Mini Brain Dumps

Hello everyone! As per usual, there will be typos and awkward sentences, but regardless I am excited to share the next chapter with you all.

If you’re new and haven’t read the beginning yet, you can find it here: The Darkest Depths Beginning

Haven’t read the second chapter yet. No worries, you can find it here: The Darkest Depths Previous Chapter

Grab a coffee, or a hot chocolate if you’re not a coffee drinker like me, and settle into your reading nooks. Maybe grab a cat and have them snuggle on your lap while you read. I hope you enjoy!

Trigger Warning: This novel contains references to sexual assault and mental health disorders. Reader discretion is advised.

Chapter 3:

he Sunfire Festival transformed Marielle into a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. Lanterns were strung between trees that swayed gently in the evening breeze. The air was alive with the aroma of sizzling meats and freshly baked pastries, drawing a symphony of growling stomachs from the crowd. Musicians stationed at intervals filled the warm evening air with lively tunes.

Quentin navigated through the bustling Town Square, where vibrant banners fluttered overhead, casting playful shadows on the cobblestone streets below. His steps quickened as he approached the heart of the festival. Lucy, radiant in a flowing sundress, stood amid a group of children, her laughter blending with theirs as they danced to the music. Her eyes sparked with joy as she stared down at the children twirling around her.

He watched her for a moment, captivated by her energy and grace. Quentin couldn’t help but smile as he approached. The children glanced at him shyly before retreating to the sidelines, whispering, and giggling as they stole glances between Quentin and Lucy.

He crouched down so that he was at their eye level. “Is it alright if I ask Lucy to dance?”

The children looked between Quentin and Lucy before nodding their heads vigorously.

Straightening up, Quentin turned to Lucy and bowed deeply. “Care for a dance?” he extended his hand.

The corner of Lucy’s mouth tipped up at the corners. She curtsied theatrically. “Why thank you, kind sir.”

He took her hand gently, leading her into the middle of the street where others were bouncing and swaying to the music. Quentin nodded to James Hobb, one of his classmates, before making a show of spinning Lucy around before he pulled her closely towards him. They were so close he could smell the sweet scent of Lucy, like basil and bergamot. A small part of him wanted to bury his face in her hair, breathe her in but he settled for a smile instead.

Together, they danced—spinning strategically to avoid bumping into the other couples as they moved across the makeshift dancefloor. Quentin leaned in closer, his voice barely above the music. “Do you remember the first time we danced like this?”

“It was at my cousin’s wedding,” she replied, the lights reflecting in her light eyes. “You stepped on my toes more times than I can count.”

A warmth spread through Quentin’s chest. “I was nervous,” he spun her gracefully under his arm as the music swelled around them. “I wanted to impress you so badly.”

Lucy flashed him a crooked grin. “I think my foot still has a scar from where you crushed it.”

Quentin pulled back slightly. “It is not my fault that you somehow ended up crashing into that table.”

Lucy crinkled her nose. “Um… yes it was. You literally spun me into it!”

“That’s not how I remember it.”

“You might not remember it that way, but that’s how it happened. I distinctly remember you saying ‘watch this’ before you spun me so many times, I thought I was going to throw up. At least I took you down with me.”

Quentin grimaced at the memory. “My back hurt for ages after that, and Mom literally made me carry over a dozen bucketfuls of water from the well the next day. She swears the cistern had to be filled, but she one hundred percent did it on purpose. As if hurting myself wasn’t punishment enough.”

“I guess I was lucky,” she responded, resting her head against his shoulder. He could feel her breath on his cheek. “I was only in a cast for two weeks.”

He pulled her closer, relishing in the feel of her warm body flush against him. “You’re right. You had it a lot worse than me.”

With a final twirl, the music faded, and they found their bodies pressed together tightly. For a moment, they simply stood there, catching their breath. With a tender smile, Quentin brushed a stray lock of hair from Lucy’s face. A pink flush crept up her cheeks as she stepped out of his touch, straightening her dress.

“Not bad for someone with two left feet,” she said.

Quentin laughed. “Who are you talking about, me or you?” Her jaw dropped open and she lightly punched him in the shoulder.

He rubbed the spot where she had hit him, barely able to contain the smile that twitched at his lips. “That was rude.”

“You started it,” she replied.

He laughed again as he draped his arm casually over Lucy’s shoulder, guiding her away from the bustling crowd and towards a quieter corner. The soft glow of the lanterns cast a warm, inviting light on their path as they walked side by side. A gentle breeze cooled their flushed skin, carrying with it the smell of blooming flowers and distant bonfires.

As they reached a secluded bench nestled beneath the shade of a towering oak tree, Quentin couldn’t resist the urge to sit and bask in the serenity of the night. He gestured for Lucy to join him, a warm smile playing on his lips as she settled beside him, their shoulders brushing.

“There’s something about the Sunfire Festival,” Quentin sighed, closing his eyes as he breathed in the crisp night air. “Something about it makes everything seem so… alive.”

Lucy leaned back against the bench. “It’s nights like these that make me love Marielle,” she remarked. “It’s the little things that truly make life worth living.”

Quentin felt a pang in his chest.

As much as he loved Marielle—its quiet comfort and the warmth of its people—he knew that this was not the place he wanted to be forever. But as he caught the reflection of lantern light in her eyes, and saw the beautiful smile that lit up her face, he decided it was best to keep his thoughts to himself. Instead, he offered her a gentle squeeze of his hand.

Together, they sat beneath the starlit sky, their fingers intertwined.

“I wonder where we’ll be in a few years…”

He felt a flutter in his chest. Maybe she wanted to leave to. Maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about choosing. It would make things a hell of a lot easier if that was the case.

“Do you want to leave?” he felt the words slip out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Lucy hesitated, her fingers tightening slightly around his. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I know that there is more than this little corner of the world, but the other part of me doesn’t really care. I love Marielle… the quiet life where we can stop and smell the roses. It’s beautiful. Not like the hustle and bustle of St. Marlo’s where there are thieves and pickpockets. But the quiet isn’t for everyone.”

He heard her unspoken words.

“But what if… everything changes?” he asked.

Lucy’s brow furrowed slightly. “I guess we’d have to figure it out when the time comes,” she murmured. “But right now, we’re here. And this night is so beautiful.”

Quentin offered a small smile, but a hollow pit had formed deep inside him.

“Yes, it is.”

Lucy shifted slightly, just enough that her shoulder no longer touched his.

They sat together, the sounds of the festival gradually fading into the background. The distant laughter and music seemed far away, but the silence between them wasn’t as comfortable as it had been moments ago. Quentin tightened his grip on her hand, as if afraid that letting go might send them spinning in different directions. There was a brief pause before the comforting squeeze of her hand in return.

What would it be like to leave Marielle?

The thought had crossed his mind a thousand times, but tonight it felt real. Too real. He imagined the days without the sound of her laughter, the way she leaned against him when they walked… The open waters promised adventure, but at what cost?

Could I leave her behind?

Could I live with myself if I did?

Quentin looked at her again, her profile soft in the glow of the lanterns, and something inside him twisted painfully.

The future beyond Marielle stretched out before him like the vast, uncharted sea—but without Lucy by his side, it felt cold, empty. And yet, staying here, with the sea so close, felt like a cage closing in around him.

He glanced toward the horizon, the dark waters merging with the sky in the distance. The pull was stronger than ever, but for the first time, he wondered if following it would break something he could never fix.

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