CONTENT WARNING: This story contains depiction and discussion of self-harm and the loss of a family member. I have done my best to address these topics with the sensitivity and care due to them, though I recognize they may be triggering for some. If these topics are difficult for you to read, you might want to skip this one. Any relevant story information is listed in Mina's bio.
Mina narrows her eyes at the pen across the room and focuses her mind. She remembers what Fin said once, about what it feels like to awaken the magic inside him: like waves at the edge of consciousness. It’s just a matter of allowing the waves to break. She pictures those waves lapping across her mind, and wills the pen to… Do something. Move? Float? Write?
What am I doing?
Mina sighs and leans back against her bed again, her expression of concentration quickly slipping into a scowl.
“Careful, or you’ll burst a blood vessel.”
Mina’s spine goes rigid and she looks at the door to her room with wide eyes. Fin leans against the doorway, his eyebrow raised in a mixture of amusement and confusion.
“That’s… Not how blood vessels work,” Mina says.
“It is, I saw it happen once,” Fin says, picking at the wood of the door frame nonchalantly. “This one boy focused so hard that blood started dripping out of his eyes. They carried him away to the doctor, and I never saw him again.”
Mina’s mouth drops open in shock. Then Fin’s eyes flick to her, and a hint of a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. Mina scowls at him.
“You’re lying,” she says.
Fin smiles and pulls away from the doorway. He picks up the pen on her desk and twirls it around in his fingers.
“What are you doing, anyway?” he asks. “Trying to do homework from the other side of the room?”
“No, I… No.”
Mina can’t help the defensiveness bleeding through her tone. Fin lies so easily. When Mina tries to lie, it’s like all of her thoughts fly straight out the window. Fin stops spinning the pen and looks at her expectantly.
“I was…” Mina glances away, her hands instinctively reaching for her long, dark hair, twining the white pieces in with the black. The rest of the words come out as a mumble.
“...I was trying to see if I have magic…”
Fin stares at her silently, and Mina meets his eyes, trying to read the expression there. It’s like staring at a brick wall. He gives her nothing.
He thinks she’s an idiot. He’s disappointed in her. He’s thinking she should get back to her homework. He’s-
“That’s not how magic works,” he says simply, placing the pen back on the desk.
Mina flops back on her bed and buries her face in a pillow.
“I know,” she mumbles through the fabric.
When Fin doesn’t respond, she lifts her face from the pillow slightly, gazing at how the tiny threads of fabric weave together so perfectly.
“I just… I thought maybe I could feel it if it was there. Even if I don’t have any demigod injections. Couldn’t you feel your magic? Before you got your tattoo?”
Fin taps his fingers on the desk.
“In a way,” he says. “But I already knew I was a child of Logos. You can’t rely on arbitrary feelings for these things, Mina. It’s too easy to trick your mind into seeing something that isn’t there.”
Something that isn’t there… Mina lets those last words sink in. Magic that isn’t there. A life for her that isn’t there. A strand of her white hair slips down in front of her face, and she examines the way it reflects the sunlight. She refuses to believe it’s just her imagination. She knows there’s something special about her. Mina looks back at her brother again.
“But if you didn’t already know you were a demigod…” she says.
“Mina…”
Fin’s voice is suddenly sharp, saying her name like a warning. She hesitates for a moment. Then she says it.
“I think I’m a demigod too.”
She spits out the words with an unexpected venom. How long had they been languishing inside her? Since Fin’s adoption? That was seven years ago. Has she really been thinking about this for that long?
Fin’s face remains unchanged at her words, blank and unreadable. But Mina thinks she sees cracks starting to form in her brother’s mask revealing some kind of emotion shining through, though she can’t tell what.
“And why do you think that?” he asks.
“Look at me, Fin!” Mina sits up straight and yanks on her hair. She always hated her hair. The mis-matched color was the source of teasing by the other kids in House Logos for years. “Do I look fully human to you?”
The cracks in Fin’s mask seal over, and he gives her an easy smile.
“You look fully like my idiot little sister.”
“I’m serious.”
Fin’s smile fades, leaving wisps of sadness behind.
“I know,” he says softly.
Mina stands up from her bed and paces in front of the mirror. Her unnaturally blue eyes stare back at her. None of her makes sense unless she’s a demigod. She couldn’t say why, but for some reason she wants Fin to believe her more than anything. His opinion shouldn’t matter so much to her, but it does. If he doesn’t believe her… Then maybe she really is just crazy. Mina sighs.
“You should ask father if you can take the demigod tests,” Fin says.
Mina blinks in surprise. She whips her head to look at Fin again, relief crashing over her.
“You believe me?”
Fin searches her eyes carefully for a moment.
“I believe the tests will give you the answers you seek,” he says slowly.
Fin has a way of making words say exactly what someone wants to hear without actually saying anything at all. Mina knows this, but he gives her hope all the same. A grin spreads across her face.
“That’s good enough for me,” she says.
Mina bounces on her heels.
“In fact… I think I’ll go ask him right now.”
Fin looks surprised.
“I’ll come with you-”
Mina shakes her head. She’s seventeen. She can’t always rely on Fin to solve her problems.
“I can handle it,” she says. “I think I have a pretty good case.”
Fin frowns.
“It’s about the implications of what you’re saying to him, Mina…”
Mina steps out the door, hopes high.
“It’ll be fine,” she says.
Fin waits outside the door to their father’s study, hearing their lowered voices inside. He knows Mina wouldn’t want him listening in on this conversation, but… He leans against the wall close to the door, but not quite on it. It’s surprisingly sound proof. Fin rolls his eyes in irritation. Of all the times he’s successfully eavesdropped on people, and this is the time it doesn’t work out for him? He supposes he could grab a glass from the kitchen, but that might be difficult to explain away if one of them opens the door suddenly.
And then the voices raise.
“You would dare…?!”
Father’s voice.
“It’s not that I’m not grateful-”
“MINA!”
And the two of them suddenly fall silent. Fin leans in closer, trying to make out his father’s next words, but his voice is in too low a register. Mina’s is a little easier to make out.
“I- I wasn’t trying to say that mother was unfaithful to you…”
“But that is what you’re saying, isn’t it?”
“No! I just-”
As their voices lower again, Fin sighs. He’d tried to warn her about that. If he was in there, he could have smoothed over that part of the conversation. But maybe they wouldn’t have listened to him. He’d never had the chance to meet Mina’s mother. She’d passed away years before his adoption. Any arguments he could make about the nature of her character would have fallen on deaf ears.
Fin had seen a single painting of the woman, hidden in their father’s office. She was almost never spoken of in the Enfield house. And yet, from what he remembers, Mina looks quite a bit like her and almost nothing like their father. Mina’s idea that she could be a demigod isn’t completely far-fetched in that respect… But it means the godly parent would be male. It means Mina’s mother would have lied to their father. And it means besmirching the name of the woman he loved.
Fin shouldn’t have suggested talking to him. He understands Mina's side, but this could only ever have gone one way. He takes a hesitant step back from the door just as he hears Mina’s voice again.
“You don’t understand! I need to know!”
“I don’t understand? You’re throwing around baseless accusations because of a feeling, and I’m unreasonable? I have been patient with you for many years, Mina. I never forced you to become heir of our family because I know you were never suited to it, because you were far too busy with your head in the clouds to accept that kind of responsibility-”
“And I don’t want that, Fin makes a better heir than I ever would anyway, and not just because of his magic!”
“I wasn’t finished.”
Mina falls silent.
“I never forced you to marry. I never had any expectations for you that I didn’t think you could achieve. But that you would try to separate yourself from me by claiming godly blood, that you would spit on your mother’s name… You are my daughter, Mina, and you are not a demigod.”
Whatever Mina says next is too quiet to hear. Suddenly, their father throws open the door, glaring down at Mina.
“Get out,” he says.
Mina stands frozen in the doorway, her small frame dwarfed by the size of it. Then she whips around, dashing away tears, and pushes past Fin. A moment passes, and he hears a door slam from somewhere behind him. Fin meets his father’s eyes and sees only disappointment looking back at him. Fin can tell what he’s thinking.
She only believes this because of you. You put this in her head.
Fin’s eyes travel to the ground again, ashamed, because he knows it’s true. Then his father closes the door, and Fin’s left standing in the hallway, alone with his own thoughts.
Months later, Fin quietly closes the front door of the house as he steps inside, trying to prevent the sunlight from leaking inside. The curtains are all drawn. Everyone’s asleep. His steps sway, and his vision blurs in and out of focus.
Probably should have stopped shy of that last drink, he thinks.
The lamp he bumps into agrees as it topples toward the floor. Fin desperately tries to grab it, but while his magic allows his mind to stay sharp under the influence of alcohol, it does no favors for his coordination. The lamp shatters on the ground, scattering delicate pieces of blue glass everywhere.
Shit.
Fin freezes in the entryway, expecting someone, probably his father, to come and yell at him for being out so late. But the only thing he hears is a sudden clatter coming from Mina’s room. He glances down at the glass for a moment, which sparkles pleasantly in the low light.
I’ll clean it in the morning…
The glass shards crunch under his shoes as he moves towards Mina’s room. She really shouldn’t be awake at this hour. Neither should he. Damn idiots, the both of them.
Fin’s surprised to find Mina’s door already open a crack. Spares him from having to turn the doorknob, thank Sol. He pushes the door open the rest of the way.
“Mina? Why are you-”
Mina’s standing on her bed. She turns to him, eyes wide in panic. Then she yanks the curtains over her bed closed, depriving the room of sunlight and temporarily blinding Fin as his eyes try to readjust to the darkness. He didn’t have a chance to get a look at her room. Mina jumps off the bed and hustles Fin out the door again. He stumbles as she spins him around.
“You’re drunk, aren’t you?” she says, lowering her voice so as not to wake their father.
Fin scowls.
“I’m a demigod. I don’t get drunk.”
“Bullshit.”
“I could still beat you in an argument.”
“I’m sure you could,” Mina says grimly, pushing past him.
She pauses when she sees the broken lamp on the floor, then pouts.
“Aw, I liked that lamp.”
“I always hated that lamp.”
“And it seems the feeling was mutual,” she says with a snort.
Then Mina crouches down and starts cleaning up the glass. Fin sways for a moment, then crouches down with her.
“I was going to clean it in the morning,” he says.
Mina doesn’t look up, focusing on collecting the glass in her hand.
“Father would see it before you got to it,” she says.
“So? I’m an adult, I can go out drinking if I want.”
“He’d say you were being ‘irresponsible.’”
Mina spits out the last word with as much mockery as she can muster. She hadn’t held a conversation with their father since she’d brought up her theory of being a demigod. Fin had never seen her hold a grudge against someone like this. Every word she says about him now is pure venom. It’s strange to see this side of her. It’s petty, and childish, and… wrong. That’s not the sister he knows.
Fin looks down at her hands and notices something strange. As Mina reaches for another piece of glass, he intercepts her and grabs her hand instead.
“Hey, what are you-”
Fin pulls her hand closer to him and examines it.
“There’s blood around your nail beds.”
Mina yanks her hand away, her expression guarded.
“I’m holding glass. I probably cut myself by accident.”
“Mina. I’m drunk, not stupid.”
“I thought you said you couldn’t get drunk?”
She’s trying to change the subject. Gods, she’s a terrible liar. Fin stands up and moves past Mina, ignoring her protests. He steps into her room and looks around. Though his eyes still have trouble focusing, they’ve at least adjusted to the light now. Nothing seems too unusual, he’s not sure what she was so scared of him seeing- wait. There’s a book lying open on her desk. She usually keeps it tidy. Fin picks up the book and examines the pages she had open. It’s some kind of grid with her own writing scribbled all over it, but it hurts his head trying to read it at the moment. Something about chemistry?
“Fin, stop okay? Let’s- Let’s just go to sleep,” Mina says, trying to direct him away from the desk.
Fin shrugs her off and closes the book to see the cover.
“Of Demigods and their Blood Metal,” he reads.
“It’s just homework,” Mina says quickly.
Fin turns back to the page she had open and squints. Ah. It’s the periodic table of elements. Her scribbled notes are talking about which gods are associated with which metal. Though one note catches his eye: Maybe this one? Don’t know where to find platinum.
No. She can’t possibly be that stupid.
Fin drops the book back onto the desk with a thump, then wrenches open the drawer. Whatever had been on top of the desk earlier had been haphazardly dumped inside in her panic. He begins to rummage through the mess, pulling out whatever seems important and dumping it back on top of the desk.
Mina takes a defensive step back.
“Fin, I swear, it’s not what you think,” she says.
Fin grabs the final object of note from the drawer and slams it onto the desk: a thin surgical knife, still wet with blood. Her blood. He stares at it, unsure of what he’s feeling right now. Anger? Shock? Disappointment? … Fear. The alcohol only inflames his emotions. He takes a breath and reaches to his magic to force the emotions down. His eyes glow gold for a brief moment as he lets the rationality take over his mind completely. He feels nothing.
“Show me,” he says.
“I- I don’t know…”
“Show. Me.”
Mina stares at him, eyes swimming with guilt and shame. Then she hesitantly rolls up her left sleeve all the way to her shoulder. Fin takes her arm and peers at it closely. A bandage had clumsily been wrapped around her upper arm, and it only takes a little tug for it to unravel completely. Her “experiments” are still bleeding; ugly, crooked cuts with a piece of metal lodged in the wound. Two of them, so far. Fin grabs the tweezers from her desk and rips out the first metal shard.
Mina gasps. She reaches her other hand up to stop him, but he slaps it away. Then he rips out the second shard. Fin glances around her desk again. At least she had the presence of mind to use disinfectant. He grabs the bottle and dumps it freely on the wounds. As he begins bandaging her up again, his voice comes out flat and cold, a side effect of this particular ability of his.
“What metals did you use?”
“C-copper. And steel.”
“People have died performing demigod tests on themselves, Mina.”
His sister chews on her lip and looks away, refusing to meet his cold eyes. She says nothing.
After he finishes wrapping her wound, he starts collecting her contraband, scooping everything into the trash. There were all kinds of metals here, each one meticulously labeled with their elemental symbol. How long had she been planning this? Collecting the metals? Had she done this before?
The little bit of magic he used begins to slip away, and the emotions come crashing back into Fin’s head with a fury. It gives him a headache.
Fin snatches up the book, about to throw it in the trash as well, but Mina pulls it out of his hands; easy enough for her, with him in his inebriated state.
“You’re not throwing out my research,” she says, her voice shaking.
Fin glares at her.
“Your research? Is that what you call it?”
“Yes.”
“You sound insane, Mina. You realize that, right?”
Mina looks like he just slapped her. He goes to pull the book out of her hands.
“Going down this path is going to get you killed,” he says, yanking on it.
Mina pulls the book back, tears brimming in her eyes.
“All I want are answers, Fin. And no one will give me any.”
“So you try to do it on your own?”
“What else am I supposed to do?!” Mina’s voice pitches higher with desperation. She’s going to wake their father, if she hasn’t already. He would be much less understanding than Fin.
Fin falls silent as Mina regains her composure. He releases his grip on the book and sighs. Mina pulls the book closer to herself, cradling it like it’s her most valuable treasure.
“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” he says.
“No,” she whispers.
Fin shakes his head.
“You’re an idiot,” he mutters.
Mina glances down at the book, but doesn’t answer.
“Listen,” Fin says, “Some day, I’m going to be head of the Enfield family. When that happens… I’ll make sure you can take the demigod tests. The real ones, with an actual doctor.”
Mina looks at him cautiously, but there’s a flicker of hope in her eyes.
“You mean that?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Not about that, anyway, he thinks to himself.
“But in exchange, you have to promise me something,” Fin adds.
Mina watches him expectantly, her grip on the book loosening slightly.
“You’re going to stop this… ‘Research,’ and put that brain of yours to better use. Keep your book. But if I catch you hurting yourself again, the deal is off.”
Mina huffs out a little laugh.
“Better use? What’s that supposed to mean?”
Fin glances at the various metal shards in the trash, their little labels scattered.
“You have a knack for this stuff.”
“Medicine?”
“Gods no. A toddler could have wrapped your arm better. I mean for chemistry. Science in general, really. How much do you know about forensics?”
“Isn’t that an experimental science?”
Fin gives her a side-eye.
“Well, since you seem so fond of experiments…”
Mina glances at her arm guiltily.
“Point taken,” she says softly. “I’ll… Look into it.”
Fin lifts up the trash and starts moving toward her bedroom door with it, but he sways again. Still drunk, apparently. He’d half hoped it was starting to wear off faster because of his magic use. No such luck. He leans against the door for a moment.
“Please don’t tell father about any of this,” Mina says.
Fin scoffs.
“Clean up that lamp in the entryway for me, and you have a deal.”
Mina nods sharply.
“Done.”
Two years later, Mina examines the pale, jagged scars on her upper arm in the mirror. The only other person who’d seen them is Fin. Even her father…
Mina’s breath catches. She pulls on a black jacket over her matching dress, shielding the scars from view once more. She puts the golden clip from her mother into her short hair, keeping the black strands out of her face while leaving the white.
She remembers years ago, when she was little, her father jokingly called her a skunk when her mother tried tying back the white hair. When Mina started crying, he apologized for hours. Her mother was furious. Mina smiles distantly at the memory.
Mina looks at her eyes in the reflection. No makeup today. It wouldn’t last long anyway.
Mina breathes in the smell of freshly-turned earth and sickly-sweet flowers as she stares down at her father’s grave. After the funeral, it’s adorned with all kinds of frivolous trinkets, the sort of thing he would have said he hated, but secretly appreciated when he thought no one was looking.
Without a word, she kneels down in front of his grave and starts shifting some of the flowers to the one right next to it; her mother’s. They both deserve the gifts.
Mina’s hands start shaking, and she clenches them into fists.
They both deserved better than me.
Mina can feel the hot tears on her face, and an ugly sob escapes her. Beside her, Fin rests a hand on her shoulder.
“The last thing I said to him…” Mina can’t finish the sentence.
Fin crouches down next to her and pulls her into a tight hug. They stay like that for some time, sitting at her parents’ feet.
“Do… Do you think he knew that I loved him?” Mina chokes out.
Fin takes a moment to respond. He sounds exhausted from his own grief.
“He knew, Mina. I know he did.”
Six months later, Mina paces in front of the door of her father’s- of Fin’s study. She hasn’t been in that room in almost three years. Mina isn’t the type to believe in ghosts, but she can’t deny that this area of the house holds a certain presence for her. She thought those feelings would have gone once Fin moved his items in, but the sense remains.
Mina stops her pacing and steels herself. She’s already made up her mind on this. No turning back now. She takes a deep breath and pushes open the door. Fin looks up. Surrounded by papers, ledgers, and empty glasses, he looks truly miserable. But his expression shifts when he sees her, as though grateful for any kind of distraction.
“Eesh, I wouldn’t want to be you right now,” Mina says, gesturing to the mess on his desk.
“I don’t want to be me right now either,” Fin mutters. He picks up a nearby glass and raises it to his lips, then frowns at it when he realizes it’s already empty. “Being an heir is terrible, I don’t know why anyone wants this.”
“Blah blah blah, something about power and prestige… Oh, and money,” Mina adds.
Fin snorts.
“If you find any coins in the couch cushions that I haven’t accounted for, let me know,” he says dryly.
Mina frowns.
“What do you mean?”
Fin looks at the desk, crumples a piece of paper, and tosses it in the trash with a frown.
“Nothing. Just a joke.”
“Your jokes aren’t very funny anymore,” Mina comments.
“I know, I’m truly awful now. It must be all that power and prestige.”
Mina laughs, and Fin cracks a smile.
“Have you applied to work for House Cassis yet?” Fin asks, changing the subject.
Mina pauses and glances at the floor. Then she pulls up a chair in front of his desk and takes a seat across from him.
“That’s… actually what I wanted to talk about.”
“Oh.”
Fin doesn’t even try to mask his disappointment.
“I’m still planning to apply,” Mina clarifies, “I just… Thought I should do something else first.”
“Something else?”
Mina nods and takes a breath.
“The demigod tests,” she says.
Fin freezes, then looks at her cautiously.
“You… Still think you’re a demi?”
Mina feels her resolve wither like one of the sad plants on Fin’s windowsill.
“I still think it’s a possibility… And if I am, that would change my application to House Cassis. I could even be accepted into one of their special units.”
Fin taps his fingers on the desk and purses his lips.
“Are you sure? After Father’s passing… I suppose I thought you’d given up on that.”
Mina stares hard at the desk. This was the part of the conversation she didn’t want to have. The part she’d argued with herself about for months. She tells him the same thing she told herself.
“Me being a demigod doesn’t change how I feel about my parents. Blood or not.”
She expects more of an argument from him, but Fin says nothing at all. As the silence stretches on, she shifts in her seat. She didn’t want to do this, but…
“You promised me, Fin.”
They stare at each other.
“And you upheld your end of the deal?” he asks.
“I did.”
Fin watches her silently for another moment, then he rubs a hand over his face and sighs.
“Alright…”
Mina’s heart lifts. Finally. Answers. Then Fin laughs, glancing off to the side.
“If you do happen to be a demi, you could take over as head of the family instead of me,” he says.
Mina puts her hands out defensively.
“Gods no, you can keep that, thank you very much. Sounds boring as hell.”
Fin snorts.
“Damn. Thought I had you there.”
Mina grins.
“What, and make your life easier? I’m the little sister Fin, making your life hard is what I do.”
Fin shakes his head.
“You’ll be the death of me, I’m sure.”
Mina leans forward, feeling hopeful and excited for the first time in months.
“When do we leave?” she asks.
“Give it a week.”
“What? Why so long?”
Fin drops his head to the desk and mumbles: “Because I’d like to be sober for that.”
“You’re… Not planning to be sober for a week?”
“No. Don’t ask.”
Mina shakes her head. Still, she’d waited nine years for this. One more week isn’t going to kill her.
As Fin and Mina step out of the carriage and approach the testing center, Mina feels anxiety travel along her nerves like electricity, making her fingers twitch. She enters the building in a daze, and Fin tries saying something to her, maybe another one of his terrible jokes, but she doesn’t hear it. Mina looks at him blankly, and he frowns.
“Never mind, I’ll handle this part,” he says under his breath.
Then he speaks to the receptionist. Oh. That’s what he was asking. Mina stands in the center of the reception area and looks around, but it’s like her eyes see nothing. The sunlight pouring in from the windows behind her warms her back, so she closes her eyes and focuses on that sensation instead. Slowly, the strange feeling in her fingertips fades, and her breathing steadies.
I’m just getting answers. It’ll be fine.
“Ms. Enfield? He’s ready for you.”
Mina opens her eyes and steps toward the door the receptionist holds open. She hesitates when she hears Fin start to follow, and looks at him in confusion.
“I’m going in there with you,” he says.
Mina opens her mouth to say something, but Fin cuts in.
“You’re not convincing me otherwise. The last time I let you do something like this alone…” He trails off and glances away.
For once, his face is an open book. Guilt, and fear, and vulnerability, things she’d never seen in her brother before. Or that he’d never let her see. He’s referring to when she spoke to their father about all of this the first time. She never realized he felt guilty for that. Mina gives him a small nod, and they both enter the testing room together.
As the door closes behind them, whatever sense of ease the sunlight gave her dissolves in the darkness. There are no windows in this room, only the hazy light of a few gas lamps. In the four corners of the room, there are broken, electric lights. Scorch marks radiate from each of them. The doctor, in his white coat, looks up from the instruments he’s assembling at the counter and gives Mina a smile.
“Ah, you must be Mina Enfield!”
Mina gives him a tentative smile back.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s me.”
The doctor gestures to a lone chair in the center of the room.
“Please, have a seat!”
Mina hesitantly approaches the chair, taking note of the leather straps on it, clearly meant to bind the hands. She slowly takes a seat, resting her hands in her lap. The doctor moves his tray of instruments closer to her on a cart, and then his eyes flick to Fin.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “we don’t typically allow other people in the room during the procedure. I’ll have to ask you to wait outside. For your own safety, you understand.”
Fin, who was wandering around the room and taking inventory of their surroundings, suddenly stops and looks at the doctor. His eyes glow gold for a moment, and his voice comes out cool:
“No, I’m staying.”
The doctor’s eyes glaze over, and his shoulders slump. Then he blinks and returns to normal.
“Right,” the doctor says. “You’re staying. Of course.”
Mina watches Fin for a moment, then sighs quietly.
“Thank you…” she says.
Fin nods, then turns his gaze back to the doctor. He doesn’t trust him either. But perhaps they’re both on edge because of the room. The low light, the broken lamps, the medical instruments… Both of their minds are years away. The only difference is that this time, Fin’s sober. Mina’s eyes linger on the surgical knife, and her hands twitch, remembering the weight of it. She forces herself to look away, rubbing her upper arm as though she can wipe the scars away.
The doctor drags over a chair for himself and sits in front of Mina, pulling out a diagram that he displays for her. It’s a familiar one: the entire godly pantheon. Every child growing up in Auroris was required to memorize it as part of their standard education. Mina was one of the few that actually did.
“If we can rule out some of the pantheon, we can speed this up,” the doctor says. “Anything you might know about your suspected godly parent?”
Mina looks down at her hands.
“I’m… Not sure,” she says. “It’s just a hunch.”
The doctor frowns.
“Would they be male or female?”
Mina looks at Fin, but he’s distracting himself by examining the broken lights on the wall. She shifts uncomfortably in the chair.
“Likely male,” she says finally.
The doctor nods and scribbles something on the diagram.
“Well, that rules out half the pantheon at least. Anything else?”
“Start with Logos,” Mina says.
Off to the side, Fin freezes. She never told him that she suspected she was born of the same god he was. But it was always what made the most sense. What little Fin had told her about his own magic… It seems right to her. And, well… She likes the idea that the two of them might actually be blood-related. They have the same black hair, even if Fin wasn’t cursed with a white streak.
It makes sense, she confirms to herself.
The doctor nods and puts the diagram aside. He grabs a small bottle of liquid from the counter and swirls it around for a moment. Then he hands the bottle to Mina.
“Drink this, please,” he says.
“What is it?”
The doctor goes to fetch something else from the counter, and addresses her over his shoulder.
“A sedative. You shouldn’t pass out, but you’ll feel drowsy.”
Mina drinks it. It’s bitter on her tongue, and then numbing. Otherwise, she doesn’t feel any different. Then the doctor comes back over and hands her something. Mina resists the urge to laugh.
“A bucket?” she says, turning it in her hands.
“For nausea,” the doctor explains, dead serious.
“Oh. Wonderful.”
Fin paces around them, watching the doctor return to the counter again through narrowed eyes.
“I thought there were potions to help with that,” Fin comments.
The doctor shuffles some items around on the counter, assembling the necessary metals for the test.
“Yes,” he says, “but some of these blood metals interact poorly with certain potions.”
He lifts up one of the delicate, metal shards with tweezers and examines it critically.
“Without being able to rule them out, the only potion I can use to ensure her comfort is the sedative, unfortunately,” he finishes, placing the shard on a second tray with several others.
The doctor’s explanation aligns with what Mina had already taught herself about blood metal, but Fin doesn’t seem so convinced. Before he can protest, Mina speaks up:
“Please ignore my brother. You seem like you know what you’re doing.”
The doctor quirks a rueful smile as he lays down the tray of metal shards beside the one with the instruments, and sits in the chair before her.
“I appreciate that, Ms. Enfield. Now, where would you like me to perform the tests? It will likely scar.”
Mina hesitates, her eyes drifting to the surgical knife again. Then she rolls up her left sleeve and taps her upper arm. Something shifts in the doctor’s eyes when he sees the pre-existing scars there. Sympathy, maybe? But he doesn’t comment on them, simply nodding in acknowledgment. Mina’s surprised when he moves to apply the leather straps to her hands.
“Is that really necessary?” she asks.
The doctor cinches the first strap tight.
“Some react… Poorly to the procedure,” he explains. “If you do happen to be a demigod, sometimes the tests awaken highly volatile magic.”
Then he tightens the second strap around her other wrist.
“The restraints are for your safety as much as mine,” he adds.
Mina flexes her fingers, trying to ignore the fear she feels crawling around in her throat.
“I suppose that makes sense,” she says. “But you couldn't have tried to, I don’t know, make it look less like a torture chamber in here?” She nods to the dim gas lamps.
The doctor glances at the lamps with a hint of irritation.
“I did have better lights,” he says, gesturing to one of the broken ones in the corner of the room. “But a child of Fulgur accidentally blew the fuses.”
Fin peers closer at one of the broken lights, tracing a hand along the scorch marks. It’s hard to tell from here, but Mina thought she saw the faintest glimmer of gold in his eyes. Maybe it was just the light.
“Blew more than just the fuses, I think,” Fin says, his voice almost distant.
The doctor shrugs.
“As I said. Volatile magic.”
Then the doctor turns back to Mina.
“Are you ready?”
Ready? She’d been waiting for this for half her life. She couldn’t possibly be more ready. And yet… Why is she so afraid?
Because you might be wrong.
It’s the first time she’s allowed herself to admit that. All this time, and doubt was something that she never entertained before. It was easy to be confident when her father told her she wasn’t a demi. Easy to claim he was wrong. Easy to ignore the doubt on Fin’s face whenever she brought it up. And… easy to ignore the voice in her head that secretly agreed with him. But now, with her hands bound and her scars bared, the voice won’t shut up.
You were wrong. You’re not a demigod. You have no magic, and all of this was a selfish waste of time.
Selfish.
Waste.
Mina sighs, pushing the thoughts away again. Then she looks at the doctor with a smile.
“I’m ready.”
It feels strange to Fin, being in this room. It reminds him of his own demigod procedure, years ago. Although, that had been in the Moon Level with a suspicious doctor who couldn’t have cared less how well he responded to activating his magic for the first time. But they only had to stick him with one kind of metal. Mina’s arm has started to look like a pin cushion, and if the look on her face is anything to go by, she feels like one too.
Fin watches as the doctor carefully slips yet another type of metal under Mina’s skin and checks her eyes for any kind of reaction. Nothing. Another one crossed off the list. Mina looks at the doctor through half-lidded eyes as the sedative seems to be doing some kind of work, but her face is pale, and a sudden shudder wracks her body. The doctor doesn’t seem to notice as he takes more notes, but Fin does.
“Mina…”
Mina blinks slowly and gives Fin a tight smile. Her voice is oddly quiet when she speaks.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
Mina looks like she wants to respond, but suddenly dips her head in the bucket and empties what little is still left in her stomach. Fin winces. He’d heard about blood sickness: what happens when someone introduces too much metal into their blood, demigod or not, but he’d never witnessed it personally before. It’s hard to simply stand and watch his little sister go through it. It’s even harder knowing that he’s the one that brought her here in the first place. Fin glances away, not wanting her to see the doubt writhing behind his eyes. He’d used some magic to hide his emotions from her earlier, but she’s bound to catch on if he does it again. He distracts himself by addressing the doctor instead.
“How many are left?”
The doctor carefully removes the previous metal shard from Mina’s arm and turns back to his tray of instruments. He lifts up a small syringe filled with liquid silver, and regards it thoughtfully.
“Just the one. Usually, I save Dilucos for last. His blood metal is… unkind to those who aren’t his children.”
Fin paces closer. Dilucos?
“You mean mercury.”
“Ah, you know your blood metals. House Logos, was it?”
“You can’t give her mercury.”
Mina weakly lifts her head. Her voice is a tremor, but the words cut through Fin like a knife.
“Do it…”
The doctor looks at Fin apologetically and begins preparing for the injection. Fin feels that writhing doubt beginning to unfurl into something else as any residue of his earlier magic evaporates. This is madness. He grabs the doctor’s arm, who startles at the sudden motion. Fin’s barely able to keep the anger out of his voice.
“Look at her. If you give her that, you’ll kill her.”
The doctor glances at Mina. Normally, she would be furious at Fin for his interference. That’s fine. Better that she be angry than dead.
The doctor half-heartedly shrugs.
“This is a common test. It will feel unpleasant, true, but the dosage is carefully measured. It’s rare for it to do any real damage.”
Fin grits his teeth, and his words come out more clipped than he intends.
“And how many of your patients have already been tested for half the pantheon?”
The doctor hesitates. Perhaps he has some moral fiber after all. And here Fin thought he was just in it for the generous compensation. Then the doctor opens his mouth again.
“With all due respect, Lord Enfield, I have to default to the patient’s preference on this matter, not yours. If she requests the test, I have to respect that.”
Fin releases the doctor’s arm, and a disbelieving smile pulls at his lips. Mina watches him with a dawning horror on her face. Fin closes his eyes and takes a long breath.
“Then let me rephrase it for you, doctor…”
Mina’s breath catches in her throat.
“Fin, please don’t-”
Fin opens his eyes and they’re already glowing. He feels the cool rationality of his magic wash over him as he speaks.
“You’re not giving her the mercury. You’re not doing any more tests.”
That familiar, glazed expression suddenly drops on the doctor’s face. He simply nods and begins packing up his materials. Fin stares hard at the floor as the glow in his eyes fades, along with the rush he always feels when he uses his magic. He doesn’t want to see the look on Mina’s face, but he can’t deny the utter betrayal in her voice.
“Fin… You promised me.”
Fin kneels down and starts undoing her restraints, still avoiding her gaze. Mina’s voice cracks.
“What if I was a child of Dilucos? Now I’ll never know-”
Fin looks up, meeting her eyes. He tries to ignore the tears he finds brimming there, and instead reaches to the coldest part of himself. Because this is what she actually needs right now, not more metal swimming in her veins.
“You already know, Mina. You’ve always known, you just didn’t want to accept it.”
He watches something deep inside her crack, but he says it anyway. He always says it anyway…
“You’re not a demigod. You never were.”
And he watches that fragile thing inside her, something he’d seen her hold so delicately since childhood, shatter into a million pieces.
Fin climbs into the carriage and shuts the door, glancing at Mina. Now cocooned in a blanket, she still looks pale and her body is shaking. But she’s looking out the carriage window now, so he can’t tell if the shakes are from her fever, or if she’s crying. Fin feels like he should say something, like he can repair the damage he caused, but the words don’t come. Instead, he leans against the window on his side and looks out, resting his temple against the cool glass. The streets of the Sun Level pass by the window, but it all fades to a hazy blur as his mind drifts.
He isn’t the bad guy here, he knows that. But that doesn’t stop him from feeling like he is. He’d hurt her, but sometimes the truth hurts, and in this case, the truth is necessary. There’s nothing to apologize for, he was just keeping her safe, pure and simple.
The silence that stretches between them is suddenly broken when Mina sniffs and wipes at her eyes. Fin glances at her again, hoping she’ll say something, but she continues to stare out the window mutely.
Fin was used to existing in a world of black and white, one that he carefully crafted for himself. That was one of the founding principles of House Logos, and the reason why black and white were included in their house colors. Because reason is meant to be black and white: right and wrong, truth and lies, loss and gain. Two sides of a coin, both sides useful in their own way. Sometimes he forgets that Mina doesn’t have to operate in the same black and white world that he does, that she’s free to navigate the gray, the parts of the world that are emotional and irrational. It’s why she never really fit in with House Logos, despite being born into it. Fin might have told her the truth, but he can’t really comprehend what kind of gray mire she’s stuck in right now, trying to process.
Fin sighs and looks out the window again. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever understand that. He doesn’t know if he wants to.
“Why do you want to be a demi so badly anyway?”
He realizes after the fact that the words might have come out harsher than he intended. Too late now. He doesn’t expect her to respond, so he’s surprised when he hears her pull in a breath. Then silence follows, and he settles against the window again, accepting the fact that the ride home is going to be a long and quiet one. And, likely, the next several months, if her interactions with their father are anything to go by. But then she speaks, her voice soft but clear.
“I wanted to be like you.”
Fin’s stomach drops at the words. And then he can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it. Like him? Mina curls further in on herself, and his smile fades.
“Oh, gods. You’re serious.”
Mina doesn’t reply. Gods. He’s such an asshole. Fin rubs a hand over his face and shakes his head.
“Mina, you don’t want to be like me. Trust me.”
I’m the worst. You have no idea.
Why on earth would she look up to him?
Simple. Because she doesn’t actually know you.
She doesn’t know half the things he’s done, what his magic has brought upon him, the people he’s hurt, the lives he’s ruined. And she never will know those things, because she is the one person he never wants to add to that list. And knowing the things he had done, the things he’s still doing would break her. No. He can’t tell her anything.
Fin drops his hand and stares at his palms. They had been calloused once, back when he lived in the Moon Level. Not anymore.
“Auroris doesn’t need more people like me, Mina. It needs people like you.”
Mina shifts to look better out the window.
“People without magic, you mean,” she says.
“I mean people who still have a heart. And a brain. Do you know how rare that combo is these days?”
Mina softly exhales a laugh at that. Then she turns and looks at Fin. Her eyes are still bright from crying, but the tears on her face are dry now.
“But imagine what I could do with magic,” she says.
A dark cloud rolls over Fin’s face at that.
“Magic… Isn’t what you think it is, Mina.”
Confusion sparks in her eyes. And curiosity. It’s the curiosity that scares him, but he always feels that way with Mina.
“What do you mean?” she asks.
There’s so much innocence in the question, Fin reacts to it like touching a hot stove. He never talks about his magic with Mina anymore. Talking about it was what made her think she was a demigod in the first place. It also treads dangerously close to the secrets he keeps from her, and once he gives her something to latch onto, he knows she’ll uncover everything eventually. She’s too clever for her own good sometimes. Funny, people used to say that about him. Maybe they’re more alike than she realizes. The difference is that she’s still young, and she has a chance to make better choices than he has. To be a better person than he is. He’ll have to tread carefully here. He looks out the window so his face doesn’t betray anything.
“When a demigod first unlocks their magic, they have two choices: keep it to themselves or use it openly. If you keep it to yourself, you’re safe and secure, but you’ll be walking on eggshells the rest of your life, hoping that no one discovers what you’re capable of. If you use it openly, your magic… Is no longer your own.”
Mina watches Fin with rapt attention, absorbing everything he says like a sponge. If he stops there, she’ll just ask more questions he doesn’t want to answer. So he continues.
“There are people in Auroris who crave that kind of power, if not to possess it themselves, then to be the ones that wield it. When you openly use your magic, those people will eventually find you, no matter your intentions. And the stronger you are, the more they covet you. But it isn’t you they want, because to them, you cease to be a person. You’re just a tool, to be used as they see fit.”
Fin smooths his face before turning back to look at Mina.
“To have magic is to lose your freedom, Mina. And there is much more good you can do with that than with magic.”
He can see her turning over his words in her mind like those puzzle boxes he always gave her when she was little. Evaluating. She tilts her head.
“You really think I’d make any kind of difference in Auroris, just as I am?” she says.
Fin sighs and leans back in his seat. He stares up at the roof of the carriage.
“You're the smartest person I know. If anyone can change this city, it’s you. I’ve always thought that,” he says.
Mina looks down, her face somber, as it’s often been in the last few years. It’s an expression that doesn’t suit her.
“Thank you, Fin.”
“For what?”
“For always being the one to believe in me.”
Fin laughs.
“I’m the big brother, Mina. Believing in you is what I do.”
They sink back into silence, this time a more comfortable one. After a moment, Mina cracks a smile.
“I’m the smartest person you know?”
“Mmm.”
“Smarter than you?”
Fin shoots her a glare and sees that mischievous grin on her face that he hadn’t realized he’d missed. He gives her a hard flick on the forehead.
“Don’t push it.”
Mina snickers, and Fin hides his smile. Now that’s his sister.
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