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her forehead onto her knees, Cordelia wrapped her arms around her head and wondered what she had done to deserve such punishment. She thought things couldn’t get much worse when a searing pain erupted in her left shoulder blade. She reached an arm behind her back and scratched it as best she could but this was different than before, the pain wouldn’t ease, if anything it was getting worse. She poked and prodded the area with her finger tips, tearing the lace of her dress and breaking her skin. Her nostrils flared at the scent of fresh blood seeping from her open wound and the pain turned her stomach but she couldn’t leave it. Cordelia probed further and then she felt it, the very thing she’d been dreading. She grasped the tip between her fingers and pulled. The pain was excruciating but she wanted it out. She tugged and tugged until at last the feather came free. She placed it on a rock beside her and there in the moonlight lay a soft white feather stained red.

Cordelia waited until she was sure everyone in town was sleeping and then she walked, barefoot to church. She didn’t know where else to turn. The church yard had always seemed eerie to Cordelia, even in daylight. Night time was worse, far worse. Tree branches swayed wildly in the wind, creaking like wooden pirate ships. That haunting sound sent goose bumps racing across her body. The church stood in darkness, surrounded by the dead. The only sign of sentient life was the crow perched on the porch roof above the door, and the flickering flame from a hurricane lamp hanging below danced in its beady eyes. With frayed nerves, Cordelia turned the handle of the large wooden door and its hinges creaked as she pushed it open. Though sparse, the candles inside the church were lit. Cordelia breathed a sigh of relief and the door clunked shut behind her. Water dripped from her dress onto the floor. Her eyes scanned the church; there was no one there. Alone, she walked the aisle and knelt at the altar. She bowed her head, placed her hands together and closed her eyes as she recited the Hail Mary. Cordelia wept and prayed at the altar for hours until she eventually fell asleep.

The early morning sunlight streaming through the narrow windows woke Cordelia from her sleep. Something hard was pressing into her cheek. She slowly sat up in a disoriented daze, wondering where she was and wiped her face with the palm of her hand, brushing aquamarine gemstones to the floor. Then she remembered. She tentatively raised her hands to her head and gasped with relief. Her hair had grown back. One of her prayers had been answered. Running her fingers through her hair, she could tell it was shorter than before, only reaching her shoulders now. She pulled strands of hair in front of her face to get a good look at it but instead of the silver grey that she was used to, her hair was golden like the sun. Just as a young bird loses its first feathers, Cordelia was transforming into her adult self.

“How can this be?” she whispered.

She looked at her watch, it wasn’t even five thirty. The town would be sleeping for a good while yet. Cordelia gathered the gemstones from the altar, shoved them into her pocket and hurried to the mirror pool.

Cordelia glanced at her surroundings, checking that she was alone, then she edged forward and peered into the water. There was no reflection. Cordelia stepped down onto a lower ledge but still there was no reflection. Cordelia felt her chest tighten. Something wasn’t right. Mist crept over the rocks as it always did, encasing her in a cocoon, but something was different this time. Cordelia’s heart almost stopped when across the pool she saw a pair of large, golden eyes watching her.

“Who’s there?” she called.

“What is it you want to see, Cordelia?”

“Who are you?” asked Cordelia sternly. “Show yourself.”

A dark shape moved forward. Cordelia could feel her heart beating ten to the dozen but refused to show her fear. Out of the mist stepped a black, sleek horse with a long, wild flowing mane. It’s golden eyes stared menacingly at Cordelia.

“I asked you a question,” said the horse. “What do you want to see?”

“I want to see myself,” said Cordelia.

“That’s your trouble,” said the horse. “Always thinking of yourself.”

“Who are you?” asked Cordelia.

“It doesn’t matter who I am. Who are you? You don’t know, do you? How can you ask others of themselves when you do not know yourself?” The horse looked into the mirror pool. “What do you see?”

Cordelia looked into the water to see Flynn and Breck at the tavern. “They look miserable.”

“You caused their sadness,” said the horse. “You inflicted pain on those you love the most.”

“Why are you doing this?” asked Cordelia.

“I didn’t do this, you did.”

Just as quietly as it arrived, the horse turned and walked away. Cordelia used her powers to disperse the mist but it took longer than it should thanks to the wound on her shoulder. She didn’t see where the horse went. By the time the mist had cleared, all that was there were the rocks leading out to sea. Cordelia peered into the pool again and there in the water was her reflection staring back at her. She looked just the same but her hair was shorter, sleeker and blonde. Cordelia kneeled on the rocks and leaned forward to get a closer look. She stared at herself wide-eyed, tugging and stroking her hair. She didn’t know if she liked it or not. She was more concerned with why it had changed. She didn’t want anyone to see it, not yet but she would need to be quick if she was going to get back to her chamber without being seen.

It was almost six thirty when Cordelia returned to the lighthouse.

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