The Foundry | Part One | Chapter Six
the next chapter of my forthcoming novel
The Foundry
by Daphne Garrido
Part One | Thrice Bled Heart
Part Two | Rebuilt; Refound; Reclaimed
Part Three | Dominion
Chapter Six
It wasn’t the first time Echo had accepted this role with Alan — lying beside him in far more than restful companionship, aware he was bound in committed relationship to another — allowing herself to become the other woman.
It had only been once before, in that way, and she’d held him to sleep afterwards then, just as she was now.
Alan was a very attractive man, and one who’d been used up because of it. People had cast many false expectations onto Alan throughout his life, and that shadow of fear would still prove quite visible to Echo. Especially because of how she could tell — it was that fear of who she was, the form she’d come in, and what people might think of him if they knew he loved her, which had led him to choosing Priscilla.
Something in it reflected a truth about himself he’d stowed inside which had never seen the light of day. Whatever force of fear he’d given into, making himself less than he was, still effected his choices. She’d pretend not to know it was his family.
No matter how far he’d gotten from them in his time. He never lost hope to find their approval. While perhaps not the noblest starting point, it’s why he’d first come to The Foundry. Although, it hadn’t taken long to realize he would be doing this for himself alone. Orator Coriseau wasn’t lying about the parts of you which died here.
Alan’s ways of movement and expressing passion would feel most synchronous to Echo. A woman of longing, most of her life spent alone, wanting nothing more than to experience powerful closeness, there was a part of her which had definitely done it for the sex — because that was excellent. Yet, the aftermath is what she’d really wanted. This was the only part which mattered to her in the end; feeling him melt into her arms, as he’d allow her to wrap him up, and place her hands over his heart.
There were many who’d consider themselves healers. People would make careers by offering their touch to others as means for positive transmutation. Regardless of the reality behind the matter, or the fact she’d been trained in those arts herself, nor her disagreement with some of the ideas which came along with their teachings, Echo found a simple truth had become most apparent; touch was healing in itself.
When you held someone with intention, focused on how much you loved them, how brightly you could see their light within, and you asked the powers you believed in to make you into a channel for some force of good to reach them through your body, it worked.
Echo found she was pretty excellent at it too; she’d lots of practice on herself.
She often laid with her palms upon her heart, making those same prayers, asking to be blessed with release from any afflictions she may have come to bear within her body, heart, or mind.
Yet, when around someone like Alan, who’d need it so badly; to be seen as their brightest light inside. That brought something out of Echo. Especially, and unfortunately, with those who also drew out a sexual energy she could offer to the mix. This divine place, with a most unique human, would birth sensations which were simply irresistible to her. She’d find purpose in it.
Her ability to affect this power was felt as a right to use for the good of anyone who’d accept it. While focus of breath, a quiet mind, and peace about her body played greatest roles in its flow, she’d found one thing made it burn all the brighter — when she really loved the hell out of someone.
While she’d always feel it quite plainly, no matter who received what came from her hands, the sensations were different with people like Alan. These few were the only ones who could gave it right back, and stronger than she’d ever feel elsewhere. Her channel to whatever healing energy came through would open wider in their presence. She’d find herself whole, wanting nothing more than to stay in that feeling forever.
Echo had over-estimated the ability within her to respect her own highest long-term good when faced with such an opportunity.
Feeling a weight of guilt from the betrayal she’d just perpetrated upon Cameron and herself. Intentionally forgetting to care about Priscilla at all, knowing the woman treated Alan quite poorly, finding that empowered an enormous indifference to what their own feelings might be, Echo realized she’d made a mistake.
She only wanted to hold the boy, deep down, but never had she been shown another way to get there. Nor had she met someone who shared the touch, and could resist her urgings to take it beyond that of healing embrace into a place of more ecstatic release. It was always her who first crossed the line first.
As Alan drifted off, Echo feeling the beat of his heart in her hands, she’d discovered her mind already planning when she’d wake him in the night, to usher him off before morning. She needn’t cause ripples. Still, Echo would confess this to Cameron. It was the only right thing to do.
Dreading what would come, saddened by her actions, Echo managed to find forgiveness for herself. There was nothing she needed more than this. So, she’d squeezed Alan extra tight, understanding there’d be a needed barrier between them going forward — one she’d enforce herself to protect from another relapse into this madness — already sad for the loss of his friendship, which would have meant more to her than anything except holding him like this.
Echo inhaled the deepest breath, taking in the smell of his hair.
She’d learned not to tell people, because it weirded most everyone out, but that would always be the biggest thing for Echo; the way people smelled. A scent would stick with her, she’d catch them in the air, they’d take her back places she’d wish to forget. Returning to those few she’d found who didn’t repel her, the ones which wouldn’t ever smell foul, who’d never felt like anything but home; like family.
Holding him there was a gift. In the moment itself, despite regret inherent to the situation, and dread of what future challenges it was surely creating, she realized it was a mistake she’d make all over again.
Echo woke up feeling conflicted. She’d been most healed in her body from the night spent with Alan, but her heart was aching. Making way to the cafeteria had been painful, seeing such lightness in Cameron from what they’d shared between the two of them.
As she’d shown her the way into the main throughfare, walking those hallways she’d longed to see once again, sensing the excitement all around, was when Echo realized how much she’d fucked up.
Things had been going exceptionally well; Cameron was the best. There was no reason that should have happened, it was a situation she could have controlled. She’d chosen not to.
Echo saw Cameron’s hand reach out from the corner of her eye. They’d laid it upon her shoulder, and she’d started to cry.
‘Fuck’ was all she’d been thinking. She knew right then, as the tears began to well, that she’d be confiding the truth to her new friend most immediately, and that it was going to be a very difficult thing for them to hear, perhaps, an even harder one to tell.
“What is it?” Cameron asked, more gentle concern in her tone than Echo had ever heard from another.
She began shaking her head, a reaction of the body, tearing up more and more — praying that something might help see this back to a place of hopefulness — finding Cameron more beautiful than she ever had before.
“I made a really big mistake,” was how she’d started.
She hadn’t been too obvious, but as Echo picked out the restaurant where she’d use her credits, there was a great deal of effort she’d made to scan the crowd of the dining hall.
The fact she hadn’t not found Rory Tyrell present was both a relief and a burden.
She wanted to get that over with; seeing them, trying to make things right. Still, it wasn’t surprising to find them unavailable. Rory wasn’t always what you would call a people person, outside of those certain circumstances which would bring their biggest heart out for all to see.
There were a handful of times Echo had spent with Rory, and she was one of those unique people; the few who could give it back, who’d the power in their own touch to make Echo feel healed in return. It had always been the strongest with her.
She hated Echo for loving her, but more than that, for how they’d handled it. That way Echo couldn’t stop herself from speaking her heart, and how she’d done it against their explicit demands — their firmest set boundary.
Echo felt most foolish in retrospect. Never would she pretend that was something herself capable of doing again, especially with someone like Rory.
She’d chosen an omelet, a small one. Her appetite wasn’t flourishing after that conversation with Cameron. Still, she needed to eat before the coming session. This was a big one; it would be her chance to make an impression on the others of her class, along with any seniors who might be taking part.
Finding her way back to the table they’d picked out, Echo sat down across from the booth-seat they’d chosen for themself, and felt most grateful for her chosen. Cameron was eating some kind of yogurt thing that looked dreadful to Echo.
They had listened without much reaction when she told of what happened. It was the strangest thing to feel heard without being rushed to do so in a limited window, allowed to say it all, nothing to be ignored or misconstrued.
It surely hadn’t felt good. Cameron would remember what happened, trust would be more slowly earned. Things wouldn’t be just the same as they would’ve. Yet, there was a hope. Echo had earned some faith through her honesty.
“We hadn’t even really started yet,” is what they’d said, after telling the truth of their disappointment.
Echo was most impressed with the way they didn’t hold back on speaking of how they felt, and still didn’t understand why they were being so kind. She saw it as a very strange time and way to be falling in love with someone new. Especially while her heart refused to release any other she’d discovered inside it before. There was never to be any removing of people from that wicked chamber who weren’t most false to begin with.
When Echo loved someone it was for good. It stuck, no matter how either might protest. She’d never give up on hope for more quality time spent by their side or ultimately wish anything but the best for those people.
The way relationships went often brought a lot of hurt out of her, riling up the mind, drawing actions most unfitting to her nature in response. Letting people go was the most difficult thing Echo could ever do. Her biggest fear was being alone in the end. She’d always wanted that to happen for herself in someone else’s arms.
No matter what came to pass between her and another whom she’d fallen for, beneath it all, once she’d find a way to cry to the bottom of it, she was theirs forever. It made things hard to love this way, for those few who’d draw it out of her. Especially when they’d be so clearly not meant for her, nor want her the same at all.
Trying not to burst into a burbling mess in front of her peers at the sight of this wonderful woman accepting of all of who she was, Echo had chosen to look down the length of the dining hall. Of all the places her eyes could’ve landed, all the couples who could have been sitting in that place, it had been Alan and Priscilla.
He was staring right towards her too, past that woman lost in her personal terminal, and he looked how she’d felt just a moment earlier; like he was falling in love.
Raising a hand from beside his drink, a little wave of his fingers passed so quickly, then he’d winked. Alan had been grinning like a boy the whole time. Echo couldn’t help but feel him in her heart, it was so sweet.
Echo waved back from her seat so far from his, then returned to her meal, and the place where her focus more rightfully belonged, trying her best not to think about how badly, if she’d the chance, she would want to hop right back into bed and hold him some more.
