Chapter Text
She cut herself while slicing up an orange for teatime.
That was usually normal, Marya didn’t consider herself the most graceful swam out of the herd, and her reasoning was that as long as she didnt get any blood on the fruit, it’d be fine. Even if Ana-Maria got squeamish and refused to even touch the uncontaminated parts, all Marya had to do was lie and say that it hadn’t happened, even with a bandaged finger.
It was a week or so after the dread attack, and everyone was still a bit frazzled from the entire ordeal. Maybe thats why she saw that. Instead of the usual blood, when Marya went to wipe her finger, all she found was…dirt. Dust. Grime. Had she accidentally touched something that was dirty before cutting? Nothing in their tiny ‘kitchen’ (Really just a repurposed closet that held herbs, tea, and the occasional shriveled fruit) was particularly dirty…Simona always made sure of it, and Marya herself attested to having to deep clean it at least once or twice a month.
She had washed her hands too, ever since Madame Rossetti made all of them learn about ‘germ theory’ she had made sure to do it.
But- besides the point, that was besides the point. Confused, she took a closer glance at the cut, she really might need glasses since all she did was squint, poking and probing at the cut. Strangely, whenever she pressed it, blood did not come out.
Dust did.
Was her eyesight really that terrible? Had she gone colorblind and could no longer the color red? Why did it feel..crumbly?
”Elana?”, she nervously called out. She wondered, offhandedly, if this was a side effect of the new magic coursing through her body. Was she seeing things? Was this truly mountain maddness? After all, the only ones who had dust in their veins were…no, she shouldn’t think like that.
“Elana!”, she yelled out, hearing a pattering of footsteps in the background. The talking in the sitting room stopped.
“Elana, something’s wrong.”, her wobbly voice said, as she held out her finger, “You see it too, right?”
Right?
Was she going mad?