Page 45 of Dawn of Hope

All the hope drains from my body, and the helpless feeling of failure creeps back in. There must be something I am missing.

I wipe my hands on my cloak and glance over the water again. The fountain isn’t flowing, and by the state of it, hasn’t for some time.

Edmond mentioned in the story that no cases have been recordedfor quite some time. Maybe that is it. Maybe the magic in the fountain has dried up with it.

In the picture, the fountain flowed freely, splashing into the pool that now sits in front of me. It is no longer that magical, beautiful fountain.

My head falls back as I feel the tears well in my eyes.

Despite telling Edmond that having hope was illogical, I did exactly that. I had hope. I hoped that after all of my hard work trying to find a cure for my mother, that this would be my answer. Deep down, I hoped I would find Dawnlin, find the potion, save my mother, and save me.

I fell for it.

I fell for exactly what I judged the other hopeful believers of the story for doing.

And now I would get to watch her go.

The hope made the pain so much worse.

Tears flow down my cheeks, and there is no use trying to stop them anymore. My body is wracked with sobs as I pull my knees up onto the ledge.

There are so many emotions behind these tears, I just let go. Everything from a lifetime of invisibility, and loneliness, made worse by the events of the last few weeks, bubbles to the surface as I sit here alone, this fountain reminding me of the death of my hopes.

I grab my shirt in a fist, trying to combat the tightness in my chest as the memories pop into my mind.

The pain of walking into the empty throne room.

My father saying I wasn’t ready.

His face as he orders me never to leave the castle.

Edmond finally telling me my mother never woke after childbirth.

Fear, anger, hurt, disappointment, expectation.

Loss.

Years and years of emotions pent up behind these tears burst forth and I cannot stop them. My breaths are ragged, and I gasp for air between sobs. I slide off the side of the fountain and kneel next to it,folding my body over the edge and resting my hands on the cold stone, trying to suck in air.

It feels as if my entire world is crashing down around me.

All because I had hope.

More than the sadness, I am angry, and not just at my father or my situation. I am angry with myself. I am the one responsible for having hope, and now I have to deal with it.

I need to pull it together. I have no choice now but to head back to the castle, and I don’t need to startle Brynne by looking like an absolute mess when I get there.

I climb back up on the bench and lean over, trying to glimpse my reflection in the water. I barely recognize myself. My eyes are swollen and red, and the makeup Tila’s ladies had so expertly applied is streaked down my cheeks.

I inhale a shuddering breath as another wave of tears and sobs hit me quickly. They fall hard and fast, dropping into the water below me as I swipe a hand roughly across my nose.

Suddenly, something in the water catches my eye and I stop crying instantly.

I grasp the edges and peer down where my tears had broken the surface. Golden ripples grow from each drop, disturbing the dark surface of the water, and I suck in a gasp.

Tears.

That’s it. How didn’t I figure that out? My mind quickly goes back to the pictures of the story, where I had seen the fountain in the background. The focus of that picture was the little boy in the story, and he wascrying.