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Starlight: Part 3 – Chapter 27

The next day the only thing I could think about was ways to open that stupid journal of Blake’s. All because of that stupid conversation I’d kept tabs on.


Why had I even been listening to it? And then Emanuel just had to say that he was miserable. Whatever.


I was finally having a few Jenna-free days, so we spent them beside the pool.


My mind was going crazy as I pretended to tan on one of the long deck chairs that were stationed next to Lucille’s pool.


I should never have investigated what the book was about after Lucille talked to me about forgiving and forgetting.


The worst part was that I couldn’t even bring it with me to the pool, as Sammy would know it was her brothers.


Why do I even want to read it?


The day crept past slowly, and after dinner I said goodnight to everyone, that I was tired and needed my sleep.


“Elena, we need to speak about your birthday.”


“Later,” I told Becky.


“Queen Margerite’s event coordinator needs to know.”


“Just as long as it’s not on the actual day. That day I want to spend with my loved ones.”


I slouched up the stairs. I hated my birthday. I couldn’t believe I was almost nineteen.


I opened my door, locked it behind me then rushed over to my side stand and took out Blake’s journal.


This was so wrong, but I couldn’t live like this anymore. I would just never tell him the truth. I’d lie and say I had no idea what was written inside it when I returned it to him.


I tried all the spells I could think of.


None of them worked.


What would work? My mind was crazy with wanting to know what he’d written in it and then sealed it off with something that nobody could open but him.


And then I got it. The man had told me last night, his abilities.


What ability does Blake own that no other dragon has?


His pink fire.


I hesitated a little, knowing we could do it, and praying he was in his dragon form. After all, it was called the Dragon League.


Still, a bit of pain might just make me feel better, and the best part was, I wouldn’t be there if he was withering in pain.


It could make him end up on my balcony, but then I could lie and tell him he was dreaming.


Screw it, I would only tell him that I was practicing. I closed my eyes and wished for the pink kiss.


My palm lit up faster than I thought.


Blake must be in his dragon form, and I stroked it gently over the book.


It jumped open and my heart was beating like crazy when I saw the first page.


The journal of Blake Leaf. The Rubicon.


I stared dumbly at the handwriting and grabbed my notes.


I read the first page of my notes and looked at the first page of Blake’s journal.


It was the same handwriting. Emanuel had never written any of these notes. It had been Blake.


Anger rushed through me.


Emanuel would always choose his side no matter what an ass Blake was.


I took a deep breath and pushed the thought that it was Blake who had helped me with this campaign to the back of my head.


I read his name again and I rolled my eyes at that last statement. Everyone knew that he was the Rubicon, he didn’t need to write it down. He was so egotistic.


I turned the page and realized immediately what this was.


It wasn’t a journal; it was filled with his poems. I kept turning the pages without reading them, came to the last one and then it stopped. It was just pages and pages of nothing. Pages that still needed to be filled with poems.


I went back to the beginning and start reading it.


Darkness coiled up deep inside

The monster inside no longer under the bed

He’s always lived inside my head

Screaming and aching to be set free

The temptation so strong won’t let me be

A hope so light appear to shine

A bond so promising but yet not mine

Good and evil both I know

Which is friend and which is foe?


He must have been really fighting with his evil side. I read another.


Daylight descend into night,

The beast inside always fight.

Raging hate appear to shine,

Untold anger always mine.

Helpless stranger at wits’ end

Blood on my hands I couldn’t prevent.

Unexpected thrill stained by red

Soulless eyes, dark dirt bed.

Inside laughter fills my core.

My darkest demons consuming roar.


The hair on my skin crawled. Did he kill someone? And love it?


The next poem was even worse.


He spoke about killing again, another innocent and how the beast inside him rejoiced; he wanted more. The good inside him tried to reason, and I knew it was his human form battling with his dragon form.


He wrote there below, never again. No matter how hard it was to resist, he couldn’t take another life again.


Still it didn’t stop, he had poem after poem of how dark he was. How insane and deranged he was. He even wrote a poem about Tabitha, calling her his snow queen.


It angered me.


I came upon a poem that was so dark, speaking about loins and fresh kills. It was another human, how old I didn’t know, and I closed the book and chucked it into the drawer again.


He was so evil. So dark – a psychopath – and I had to be the one with whom he dented.


I used to feel safe with Blake, but now I was really scared and just wanted to stay as far away as possible from him.


I struggled to sleep, and couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d read.


I prayed I wouldn’t dream about it, otherwise the idiot was going to know what I’d been reading.


The next day, I tried to get his poems out of my head, but I couldn’t.


Those poor people.


This was what he’d meant, that day on the mountain when he’d told me he was scared about me discovering all the shit he’d done and wanting nothing to do with him. It was this shit, him having a ball killing people.


How on earth had I fallen for him? It was because of the package in which he came.


He was really good at showing me kindness, but it wasn’t real. He was evil, and I should never have claimed him.


“Earth to Elena,” Becky finally said and I stopped thinking about everything.


I smiled at her as I put a fork of cold scrambled eggs into my mouth. Everyone was finished eating except me.


“What’s your answer?”


“Sorry?” I asked, not having heard her question.


“Okay, spit it out. What’s up? First you went to bed like super early, locking your room. Now you are somewhere on cloud nine.”


“How do you know I locked my room?”


“Mom wanted to take you a cup of cocoa, and the door was locked.”


“I just wanted some privacy.” I shook my head. “Can I please be excused?” I asked Lucille and she looked at my plate with worry lines around her eyes. “You’ve hardly touched your food.”


“I’m not hungry. Sorry about last night.”


“It’s okay, go.” She smiled as I got up and left.


The journal haunted me the entire morning. I tried to draw, tried to not think about it. I even paced in my room, and when I couldn’t do it anymore I took his journal out again and used my pink kiss to open it.


I paged to the last poem I’d read and didn’t even finish it.


The next one, well it was a bit different. Really different.


Darkest days, dreary night

Seems all I do is fight

Endless days, against the world

Only darkness inside can behold

A feeling strong awakens me

The descendant’s here, it cannot be

Hopes light ignites inside me

The rider is here to set me free

Soon to be a powerful dent

All my deeds would make amend

Dreary nights would no longer be

Until I saw the he is a she…


This was from the night I came to Dragonia Academy, or he’d written it the next day when he’d realized who I was and why my presence had woken him. I read a few after; they were poems about confusion, and he’d lied to me about not wondering how they’d gotten me out. He’d asked that question so many times, over and over, and it frustrated him as I could see the ink dented hard into the paper.


There were other notes written between. A number of a red head, and Phil. He kept writing in codes. Like what the hell was FC. He needed it a lot too, and Phil was connected to it and another guy. Shit, what if FC was it some type of drug? Did he do drugs?


Gosh, he was so messed up. How didn’t I know this?


I gasped at the next page. He used Irene and love in one sentence. My skin crawled. Had he and Irene? My mind went back to my first year in Dragonia Academy. He always went to see her, so many times. The night the dragons attacked us, he left with her that night. Never in a million years had I thought they were actually seeing each other. What about Tabitha? Had he even loved her at all? was she just a cover-up or something.


That information hit me harder than I thought, and I was disgusted with both of them. Irene and Blake – she was like three hundred years old. Ewe. Then again, Emanuel was three hundred years old too and I almost…I couldn’t think about it.


I felt sick and needed to put the journal down.


Blake was right. I so didn’t want anything to do with whoever the hell he was.


I knew absolutely nothing about this asshole.


In the afternoon, I picked up his journal after I went through all the things I’d gotten from him.


He really hadn’t loved Tabitha as much as I’d thought if he’d had an affair with the Viden.


She could lose her job over this.


I didn’t even want to think about it.


The next was another poem.


I am power and

I am might

I am flame and fury

I have no need for man nor beast

I am judge and jury


Dark-winged thoughts

Spurn her allure

My malaise resisting cure

I strive against her summoning light

Seeking the comforting cloak

of night

Black velvet cognition

shrouds the call of her flame

Repels that in her

Which sings my name

The tides of my essence

Feel her pull

A fight between ocean

and shore

Alone I am unconquerable

But could there be

something more?

I am power and

I am might

An instrument of pain

I shall bow to no one

And none shall call me tame


oh! that light

and oh! that warmth

and oh! that silent song

Could there be

Between our worlds

A place where

we belong?


Something totally unexpected happened as I read this one. Tears filled my eyes. He’d tried to resist me, made it seem so easy too, but it wasn’t. He’d doubted it daily. Fought against it constantly. His words were so addictive, and although his dark side scared the living crap out of me, I couldn’t stop reading his stupid journal.


I closed the book after I read two more poems and thought about them for a long, long time.


I’d thought keeping him from his darkness was hard, it wasn’t, he’d succumbed to it on numerous times. It was giving in to the light that was difficult.


The next day I promised myself I would appear normal again and went to Longbottoms with Becky and Sammy.


We stayed there the entire day, and talked about my upcoming birthday. Still, Blake’s journal and what he’d done haunted me.


How could I have fallen for him? Even if that one poem was stuck in my head.


I knew my dragon was a poet, Professor Pheizer had told me that, and she had even been on to him at that stage. Had she read his journal like she had mine, or had he given her another journal? A pretend one that didn’t have all the secrets this one did?


“So, Queen Margerite says that they are going to throw you a party before your big day and bring out the cake at twelve,” Becky explained.


“At night?”


“It is your birthday. It’s her condition if you don’t want a huge extravaganza on your day.”


“Fine,” I conceded.


“It will be held at the same place we held the dragons’ function. I like that place. It will be perfect.”


“It’s going to be boring.”


“Why boring? I’m there.”


“You’ve not been yourself lately.”


“Well, I have my reasons.”


“Have you gotten through to him yet?”


“Nope.” She sulked.


“I’m sure they are somewhere where there is no signal.”


I remembered what Emanuel told me. If Blake was miserable, George would be too.


“Okay, what else?”


“She said no fancy dresses.”


“Finally!” I yelled manically.


Becky and Sammy laughed then Sammy got up. “Need to meet Dean at the coffee shop. See you girls later.”


“Bye,” I said while Becky sulked some more.


I smiled. I wanted to tell her so badly about Blake’s journal, but didn’t. She would just want to read it too then all his secrets would come out.


I still couldn’t believe he’d had a thing for Irene. It explained a lot, like why he’d always spoke so highly of her.


“So what do you want to do on your birthday?”


“I don’t know. Maybe just spend it at Longbottoms.”




“What? I like Longbottoms.”


“I know you do. You own half the place.”


I laughed. It wasn’t half, but it was pretty close.


We left around four, and I couldn’t wait to read the journal again. I had to sit through a spa day with the girls, and when nine o’clock finally came, I said goodnight and went to my room.


I closed my door and locked it again.


I opened Blake’s journal and carried on where I’d stopped the day before.


I could more or less make sense of where he was in his life now.


Most of them were about me, about him resisting me as his rider. He’d mentioned it so many times, and he’d put voice to the feelings he’d had after a while. Blake had even written a poem about saving me that time. He’d thought his one chance was gone, how it made him feel, and then when he’d realized I would live, he’d kicked himself in the butt again.


Why had he saved me?


Then there was this one. It was when he came back from that beating, it was about Paul.


Betrayal and Consequences was what he’d called it.


A dark pleasure so grand

comes when they fall into my plan.

I wickedly lie, smile, and deceive

not a word of truth from me leaves.

I see a stranger roam the halls

gain their trust and more they fall.

Evil laughter echoes within

my Dark Side is pleased with the chaos and din.

My one true friend that remains,

as clouds of disaster starts to rain,

Leaves on a dangerous quest…

and until he wins, will not rest.

He wants to find a way to ‘save the world’,

tame the dark, and have the light unfurl.

I know the truth, I know ‘the way’.

I keep quiet. I don’t want to be saved.

I revel in the knowledge that I’m succeeding,

then the stranger makes his move and I’m reeling.

At first I feel glee, no one will catch on to my plan,

but she’s in danger…no, I won’t save the woman.

From within a spark bursts forth, I must go.

She might die, I really don’t know.

Silence. The world is still.

My friend is dead…the greatest man I knew.

I’m at the funeral, my girlfriend’s bruised.

If I were good I wouldn’t hurt those I claim to love,

If I’d been honest life right now wouldn’t be so tough.

If I had been honest, if I’d been good,

my friend would be alive…I know he would.

‘She’ would’ve conquered me…the one true heir.

I’m not good, but is this fate fair?

With her new form, fire and wings,

is she really the future queen?

No matter what, I betrayed my greatest friend.

I’m confused, I need his advice, but because I exist, he’s dead


Tears rolled down my cheeks and I chucked his book away from me. He’d really known all of this, even though he’d told me he hadn’t. It still hurt knowing that Lucian died because Blake had been so dishonest. He was right to fear what would happen when I found out about all the shit he had done.


He’d tried harder after that, I knew he had, even though he didn’t want to help me, not before I changed into Cara, but he was selfish and only thought about himself.


I didn’t care anymore if it was a Rubicon thing, he was an idiot.


Lucian and Brian were dead, while he knew the truth. He wanted to kill me too. How could anyone love someone if they wanted him or her dead at a stage?


I didn’t read any more of his poems after that one. I told myself I wouldn’t.


I would free him after we freed Etan, and then I hoped he would just disappear and I would never see him again.


He was scaring me so much.


My birthday party was in a few days, and I had another interview with some host who tried her best to talk about what had happened to me, but I just shook my head.


Jenna didn’t like it that much, as she really liked this host and said I might have just killed this campaign by not cooperating. She had the numbers in views and blah, blah, blah.


Then she and Becky quarreled.


I was so over it.


Besides, I’d told Kevin he could get the exclusive and really didn’t care about this one. She was so fake, just wanted the numbers and whatnot.


That night I had the urge to read more of Blake’s poems. Why I couldn’t just leave his journal alone was beyond me.


I opened his book again and paged past until I found the last poem I’d read.


Hope is gone

she’s not the heir.

So why is it

that I care?

She’s a Rubicon

ah, I see.

She’s meant to kill

and defeat me.

I train her

and peace calms my soul

She’s kind and incredible

I come to know.

She wins my heart,

but I won’t tell.

The darkness whispers

we can’t be together, though I fell.

I tell her the mission

she’s to kill me and save the land.

She’s mad and angry

she says…she loves me. Am I in quicksand?

We’re not for each other,

I must let her see.

I say hateful words

that I don’t mean.

I’ve damaged her spirit, the one I’ve come to adore,

darkness swallows me whole, I know no more.


And then he’d written this…


His words were speaking to my soul. No wonder his music was so good. He was truly a poet, described things in ways I would never understand, but this, this made sense. All of them did. I knew he’d lied but reading the words of what had truly happened while he’d trained me that time, made me furious again. He’d fallen for me then, but because of me turning into Cara, throwing everyone and himself off, he didn’t trust it. And because of the darkness he’d slipped into, he didn’t feel anything when he woke after that.


So what if I was a Rubicon? I had kept him from turning dark. Even though it wouldn’t have lasted, but it should’ve given him hope, and he still ran away from it like usual.


I huffed as I realized he was one of the most complicated creatures I’d ever met. He was like layers of good and evil all mixed into one, just like an onion that was starting to rot.


How can someone trust that, really trust all of it?


It scared me still that he was like this, but I’d found my new addiction – his poems.


Whether they were dark or not, it was addictive.


Never Breath was a poem too, and so was Forever Last. Both great hits in Paegeia. They’d reached number one on the charts. It was a pity that the rest of the world wouldn’t hear The Shifters. Stupid band name.


I read a few more; it changed drastically as the last one was one he’d written after he’d stepped over the edge, and they had to sedate him. They were all dark again.


They weren’t kind either. It was before he came back, why he was so mean.


Darkness roams, controlling me

There’s a love that cannot be

Truth has come, opening all

It won’t last, I’ve lost my soul

Freedom be mine, rider no more

Human girl, pathetic door

Veil of darkness covers me

I don’t want to can’t you see?

Evil, darkness, I’ve embraced

Forever mine, loneliness laced


He’d truly hated me. He’d never wanted this. I closed the book and put it back into the drawer, wondering again why he had kissed me then.


I grunted. I was staring to rhyme myself from reading poems upon poems, and I wasn’t even a poet. Yet, he’d told me why he’d kissed me. It was so Blake. He hadn’t fallen for me; he just couldn’t hear my thoughts anymore. Had he even been speaking the truth up on that mountain that day?


I didn’t know. All I knew was that I should never have trusted anything he said. This – this was who he was. These were the words of his soul, his dragon’s soul. It came from his heart. His dragon’s heart. This, I should trust this.


I should never have read his journal again, and I hoped and prayed it would stay that way. I grunted and made myself fall asleep.


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