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Alex Bailey stood in front of the mirror and sighed. Her hair was darker than it'd been a year ago, less of a strawberry blonde, more of an auburn. Her face was never really chubby, never plump and cute like Conner's had been in their youth. But it had a nice shape, her features were full and her lips were red, but now... Her face was hollow.
Her jawline was sharper than it had ever been, and there was a sharp cut on the side of her mouth that she didn't even know was there until two days after the battle. All of her friends, everyone around her, they were so happy, so glad to have her back. There was a celebration, once all of the citizens and rulers had returned to their kingdoms. She tried her best to be joyful too, after all, the heroes saved the day, and the villain had been defeated.
But this time, the villain was her.
She'd been under a spell, and on some level she knew that, but still, everything was different now. Now she was deeply aware that she had the capacity to commit those acts. Even though using magic to hurt people wasn't her choice, it didn't mean that she couldn't. In fact, if she wanted to, she could do it again. She could fly down from her room at the fairy kingdom, pull thorns from the blackest depths of her soul and lay waste to her home. She could walk downstairs, dragging her heels and leaving a trail of ash, as she burned her life to the ground. She could disintegrate the weapons of every soldier in every kingdom in the entire land of stories, and then she could travel to the otherworld in a blast of lightning and fire, and do the same there.
She didn't take over her home world when she was under the command of the witches, but that was just because she her humanity was given back to her by her brother. What would happen if Conner was gone? Or Arthur, or, she thought with a pain in her chest, her mom?
Rook was dead. When he died, it was her fault. A brave sacrifice was what they called it.
His sacrifice, her murder.
When everyone got back to the Charming Kingdom, his father was inconsolable. He had to watch as his fallen son was raised on a pillar, forever young.
In the gardens of the Fairy Kingdom, a tall stone copy of Rook stood smiling, with hair frozen over his eyes. He was made into a statue for saving the great Fairy Godmother. Alex felt angry. She didn't know why, but she did, every time she looked at it. Every time she looked at that lifeless version of Rook, at herself in the mirror, or at Conner, Red, Arthur...
Everyone she loved reminded her of everything she'd lost.
Rook was dead, the cute boy with the floppy hair and the goofy grin, who watched her in reverence, with light in his eyes. The boy who broke her heart was gone, and with him went some version of her.
Alex was tired. Breathing felt like drowning, air sharp as ice.
She was where she belonged, but she felt like she was trapped in the Otherworld. Like Dorothy before her life gained color.
She wasn't okay.