everything had gone bad so fast that sybill hadn’t even had a moment to process a passing thought. her vision of the attack --though she didn’t remember the vision itself, she had been told of its contents-- had no time to function as a warning before it had actually occurred. and then everything just... happened. the castle was swept over by the aurors and sybill was taken in to be questioned due to the reputation of her family and the rumors that she was a seer just as cassandra had been. it felt like hours had passed in that room with the aurors and being questioned about the same things but in different ways as though that would make her change her answers. and when she was let go, she finally got a hold of a letter from her cousin reporting the death of her youngest cousin.
people needed her to be happy, she told herself. with something as big as this, people would need her to be their shoulder to cry on or the ear to listen to their sorrows or their pains or how shocked they were by all that had happened. they would need her to be the light that she usually was. but despite how many smiles she threw at people who were looking at her while she passed by them in the hall, the smiles were unable to reach her eyes, producing something hollow and fake that even she couldn’t fathom being comforting.
the concept of time seemed to become nonexistent from the moment she travelled from the room where she’d been questioned to her lifting her legs up and sitting on the ledge of the astronomy tower. she’d discarded her shoes somewhere after she’d reached the top of the tower, though she couldn’t remember when or how she’d done it. her perception of time always seemed to flutter away whenever she had a vision, though she’d also been told that grief and sorrow could have the same consequences.
