Point of View: Seraphyne
The first time I knew my life was a lie, it was not because something broke. It was because of a bee.
It was a tiny gold thing. It was small and weak. It looked so desperate. It stayed right against the glass. Its wings moved so fast they were just a blur. It looked like it was trying to rub itself out of the world.
For a long time, I thought I was seeing things. Nothing in the Haven ever fought. Nothing ever struggled. Nothing wanted anything more than what they were given. But this bee wanted out. I could not stop looking at it.
I sat there for a very long time. My book of poems stayed open on my lap, but I did not read it. My tea was sitting next to me. It was cold. I did not touch it. The air smelled like flowers. It always smelled like that at four o'clock. It was sweet and easy to predict. It felt like it was choking me.
Everything here was always perfect. It was too perfect. For the first time, I felt how wrong that perfection was.
Tink.
The noise was very quiet. It should have gone away. But it stayed.
Tink.
The bee hit the glass again. My chest felt tight. It felt like something I could not see was wrapping around my lungs and squeezing them slow. I moved closer. My fingers touched the smooth glass. It was cool. It had no marks. It had no end. There were no cracks. There was no way to get through it.
"Go on," I said. My voice was just a tiny breath. "Try again."
I thought if the bee could get away, maybe I could too.
Tink.
That sound broke something inside me. It was not loud. It was not mean. It was just quiet. It felt like a string snapping.
Then the world glitched. It did not shake. It did not fall apart. It just stopped.
The bee stopped in the air. It was in the middle of flying. It was in the middle of its fight. Its wings froze. It did not fall down. It did not move at all. it was just stuck there. It was still and silent. It was wrong.
My heart beat hard against my ribs.
"No," I breathed.
I stood up fast. My chair made a loud noise on the floor. The sound was too sharp for this place. This place usually swallowed all noise.
"Father?"
I knew he would not answer. He was never there when things went wrong. I looked at the gardens outside the glass. My heart was thumping in my ears. The sun was in the sky. It was in the same spot it was this morning. It was in the same spot it was yesterday. It was in the same spot it always was. It never moved. It never changed.
I looked at it hard this time. I did not just accept it like I was taught to do. I felt something new. I felt suspicious.
Then I saw it. The sun did not shimmer. It did not burn. It was not alive. It looked like someone painted it there. It was flat. It was dead. It looked like a picture a child would draw.
My stomach felt sick.
"It is happening again," I whispered.
Old memories came back. I did not want them. I remembered the rain that fell in perfectly straight lines. It never made the ground wet. I remembered my teacher saying the same thing over and over. Her voice sounded like a broken toy until I touched her arm. I remembered the birds flying in the exact same way at the same time. They looked like they were following a script.
Every time I saw these things, Father would smile. Every time I asked a question, he told me to forget it.
"You are tired, Seraphyne."
"You are thinking too much."
"Drink your tea."
I always did what he said. When I woke up, everything was smooth. Everything was perfect. I forgot everything.
But not today. Today, I remembered.
I put my hand flat on the glass right next to the frozen bee. That was when I felt it. It was a vibration. It was not warm. it was not life. It was something else. It felt like a machine. It was a low hum. I felt it in my bones and in my chest. It felt like a heart made of metal. It was cold and faked.
"What are you?"
"Seraphyne."
I froze. I knew that voice. It was smooth and controlled. I did not have to turn around. I knew it was Azrath. My father. He was the man who gave me everything. He was the man who took everything away.
I turned slow. I kept my hand on the glass to feel something real. He stood in the door. The light around him did not come from anywhere. His clothes had silver threads that caught the light. He looked perfect. He looked just like everything else here.
"Father," I said. My voice was quiet and sharp. "The bee stopped. Everything stopped."
He walked to me. He made no sound when he stepped. Nothing here made noise unless it was supposed to. He did not look at the bee. He looked at me. He looked soft, but it felt different now. It felt heavy. It felt like a cage that looked like love.
"The wall is being made stronger, my sun-drop," he said. He moved a piece of hair from my face. "It is not safe outside. We must keep you safe."
Safe. He always used that word.
I looked back at the bee. It was still frozen against the glass.
"Is it safe to be like that?" I asked. "Is it alive if it can just be stopped?"
He did not say anything. So I kept talking.
"I want to feel something real. Not this fake perfection. I want wind that does not smell like flowers. I want rain that makes the ground wet. I want to see what is out there."
The light in the room got dark. The gold color turned into an ugly purple. My father felt heavy. His shadow grew across the floor until it touched my feet.
"There is nothing out there," he said. His voice was cold. It was final. "There is only ruin. I made this world to protect you."
Protect. Control. It was the same thing.
"You will stay here until the tea comes," he said. "Do not test me."
Then he left. He locked the door. The sound was loud. I was alone. I was alone with the fake sun and the truth.
Something inside me was broken. Or maybe it was finally awake.
I walked to my table. My hands were shaking. I was not scared. I was determined. I did not look at my gold tools or my perfumes. I went to the secret drawer. I made it myself. I did it bit by bit, day by day. It was my secret.
I pulled it open. There it was. The Shard. It was dark and heavy. It was real. It was the only real thing I ever touched. I held it tight. The weight made me feel strong.
I turned back to the glass. The humming sound was louder now. It felt like the world was telling me to stop.
"I am not drinking your tea today, Father," I whispered.
I looked at myself in the glass. I looked perfect and obedient. But my eyes were different. They were alive. They were dangerous.
"I am not forgetting anymore."
I lifted the Shard. I did not aim at the bee. I aimed at the center. I aimed at the heart of the lie. I aimed at the fake sun in the dead sky.
I chose this for myself. I screamed. It was a scream that broke the silence and the lie.
I drove the Shard into the glass.