the oracle.

“The future is always in motion, like a great river dragging us all to our inevitable ends. There are some who can raise themselves above the surface to see what awaits us, looking into a future both unclear and terrifying. These oracles are blessed with the sight…and cursed by what they see.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“The tarp? So not treating him well then. This is duck neglect. I’m filling a report with Quaknonymous tip line. The other end table looks great though,” Connor teases gently, letting his hand gently run through her hair. As much as he liked the duck, it really had been nothing more than a joke. And the shirt he bought after to match also was. Even if he did plan to wear it next time they went out drinking just to fuck with her.

The next part catches him off guard. He’d been expecting some tears - it was why the rest of his bag had boxes of tissues stuffed inside of it. He just hadn’t gotten to the part where he took them out. Her words are both a knife and a balm. Someone had said he was going to leave her, probably Chloe’s dad by what he’d gathered, and that was the most fucking offensive thing he had heard in his entire life.

“I won’t ever leave you, Chloe. You’ve got a wolf’s loyalty now. That counts for a hell of a lot. We aren’t too easy to get rid of.” Connor places another quick kiss on the top of her head before she quickly departs form his embrace and shuffles off to get the wine opener.

Bottles pop open with little hesitation and he pours them each a glass. If the bottles aren’t gone by the end of the night, he’ll assume he’s a shitty friend who isn’t letting her do this right.

“Ah yes, fermented grapes, nature’s cure all. Certainly my favorite of the panaceas. Ice cream is in the fridge but I figured we’d at least wait until you were a little more tipsy. I have tissues though. Should you need them.” It’s more of a reminder that she doesn’t have to be strong for this than anything. If the tissues don’t get used that’s fine, but they’re there in case she needs them. Just like he always is.

~

“Do it, please, get him out of my house,” Chloe returns, though there’s a twinge of humor to her tone. As much as she hates the duck, and she does hate it, she knows Connor can take a joke just as well as he can make one, anyway.

Before he had shown up, Chloe might have believed someone when they said he would leave. Things were always hard here, but her situation was unique and unusually cruel at times. She had been abandoned on more than one occasion over her power, and not once could she bring herself to blame others for it. Despite the fact that it was never her choice to see what was written in the stars already, she knew how bad it could hurt someone to know the truth. Who was she to judge if they also wanted rid of the reminder of that demise: Her. 

But, Connor was different. He had dropped everything to come over here, and had her wrapped up in the best hug, promising that he was here for the long haul. And, Chloe believed him, too, which was the other hard part. He had never given her a reason to think otherwise, anyways. No one had ever been so quick to come to her aid at the drop of a hat. “I know you won’t. Thank you.”

They switch gears long enough for Chloe to regain some control over her emotions at least for as long as it takes to gather what they need for wine. She’s not all that knowledgeable on wine, but it’s a comfort in it’s own way, practically injecting her veins with a bit of extra calm.

She motions for him to join her in the living room, curling into the corner of the couch like she’s sixteen again, recovering from the blow of losing the only person she cared about. “I’ve never felt this shitty after a conversation with my Dad. I mean, he pulls this shit once in a while, but it’s easy to brush it off. But, Guide and Cicerone, it feels so real now. He’s just so pissed at me for this when he’s the one keeping secrets.”

Name: Chloe Li Age: 26 Species: Human (Clairvoyant) Circle: Power Known Relationships: Connor Talbot II (Best Friend), Thaddeus James (Circle Leader), Karlha Whitlock (Formerly Indebted to), Lilith Gaumond (Close friend/date for the evening + avoid end of the world gang), Cameron Kiskadden, Kel Trebond, Elias Hart, Matthew Coleman-Reyes, Sebastian Harker (avoid the end of the world gang), Esmeray Talbot (ex-girlfriend/friend/bound to)

What's your name?

“Is— what is this, procedural? Whatever, sorry, I know. You ask, I answer.” It’s not like either her or Nora love this situation. She clears her throat and starts again, “Chloe Li.” 

How do you know Tabitha Spencer?

”I don’t really know her,” Chloe says simply. “I know her Brother, Bash, better than I know her. But, I’ve never heard a bad word uttered about her, either. It’s always been ‘wow, what a nice kid’ or things like that.” And, maybe there was a bit of bias in that idea. She had been there that night, she had been watching everything with an Eagle’s eye, and more so, she knew the power of gut feeling. Whatever happened that night was not on Tabitha.

How do you know Jose Alves Cruz?

Chloe shrugs, pushing herself back in her seat as her head falls back over the back of the chair before coming back to a seated position. “Another one of those Underground Namesakes. He’s the Mayor, but everyone knows that. I know he’s Jo’s Dad. I know he dodges Security, and he’s a tried to true politician for better or worse. Likely worse, if you ask me, but I guess that’s just an opinion.” She leans forward then. “I also know I saw him that night right before the fireworks off looking far too uneasy for someone watching a bunch of speeches about how great the Underground can be.”

How do you know Hollis Fiala?

“This is all on the record, right?” Better not to berate a Circle Leader for a court made up of the very same people. Whether Hollis had any say over the thing or not, Chloe didn’t need another enemy. “They’re the Circle Leader for the Wild. Related to Cerese, descendant of the High Court in the Fae realm— take your pick of the titles they tote and then some. I know they took an iron bullet to the shoulder that night at the party. That’s about as much interaction as I’m willing to have with them at this point, though.”

Did you see the shot happen/what happened that night from your perspective?

“I didn’t see the shot go off,” Chloe explains, “Shit happened fast— Can I curse during this? Whatever. I remember hearing two shots, and given that I was there due to seeing a vision that there would be a possible attempt on Karlha Whitlock’s life that night? I admit that my attention went to her first. By the time I realized it wasn’t her that had been shot at, everything was over, and the crowd started panicking. For the record, I couldn’t tell you what happened in my vision for that shot to go from Karlha to Hollis, but clearly something changed, because that Washerwoman craft we had with us that night told us clearly there was someone there who meant to harm Karlha. That much I can say as a fact.”

When did you get the invitation for the party/know you were going to work it?

“Whenever the mail decided to drop it off. It’s more of a courtesy, though, being in the Power Circle. You know you’re going to that party before the invitation comes, might as well forget about making other New Years plans if you want to stay in some sort of decent standing with the rest of the Circle. I’ve known I was going since New Years last year.” She shifts, almost nervously. “It was a little different this year, though, I’ll admit. That vision I mentioned earlier? The one about Karlha? I had reason to believe that attempt would take place at the party. And, so, I got some people together, and we decided we were going to put a stop to that. We had medical supplies, counter protective measures in place, and crafts in an effort to help us sniff out the danger before it came to any shots being fired. Clearly, we were not that lucky, but at least Karlha is alive.” Hollis, too, though Chloe was still debating if that was a relief or a shame. 

Did you go with someone?

“Depends on how you mean. If you were to ask anyone there, Lilith Gaumond was my date. But, really, I was there with a few people. Lilith, Cam, Kel, Elias, Matthew, and Bash. We were all there with the same goal in mind: Keep Karlha alive. Like I said, it doesn’t make sense how that switched. Up until a couple hours before midnight, it still seemed like someone was out for Karlha, and she’s very much fine, thank Guide and Cicerone for that. I’m just going to keep harping on that one, because it makes exactly zero fucking— sorry —zero sense, seeing as Tibby is a part of Karlha’s pack. Why the fuck would she go into that party with the plan to hurt Karlha and pivot to shoot Hollis instead?”

Do you own a gun/have you ever owned a gun?

“No, never owned one. I’ve never really felt the need. Maybe I’m overly confident in how well I can defend myself with bear mace and my fists, but it wasn’t something that ever crossed my mind as a necessity.” Recent events had slowly amended that thought, but she had a machete and a few knives now. She still didn’t feel the need to wield such a lethal weapon. “I’ve shot BBs during Summer Camp as a kid, and most recently a Dart Gun to deal with a situation. But that’s the most involvement I’ve had with firearms at this point.” She takes a deep breath, and shakes her head. "Does that even matter? This place is so fucked up. I’m telling you, I know Tibby wouldn’t just do this. I don’t even know the kid, and I can tell you that. She has no reason to shoot Hollis, no motivation, no personal gain— If people could open their eyes for ten seconds, they might see just how weird this entire thing is, too.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Connor is nothing if not talented at a cheer up. It started off when he was still a kid and his grandfather had left Lilith a broken, shattered mess of a person. Those half cooked eggs had warmed her heart and even if he was older now and could make eggs better, he figured Chloe needed something a little different. The conversation with her parents hadn’t gone half as well as he had hoped they would and she was upset. As her court appointed dumbass best friend, this was his job.

So he goes to the liquor store, picking up two different kinds of red wine: the leftovers of the Rudolph Red Blend and the Comet and Cupid Cabernet. They were offered on the cheap and he figured the reindeer bottles would at least do something to make her laugh. He’s got his old college messenger bag thrown over his shoulder and inside are tissues as well as two cartons of ice cream.

“Don’t even stress about it, Delphi. You call and I come.” Connor leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead before stepping inside her apartment. “Where’s my duck son? Have you been treating him well?”

The bag gets set down on the nearest surface along with the wines before he pulls out the ice cream and puts it in her freezer. He’s here enough that it doesn’t feel too weird messing around with her things to get what he brought situated. Once it’s all in it’s place, he reaches out, pulling her into a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “For what it’s worth. I know that isn’t a lot. Whatever you need tonight, you’ve got me for. Whether it’s to cry or scream or throw or drink. And should you get too drunk I will help you tomorrow with your hangover.”

~

Connor comes in like his usual whirlwind self, and it seems to breathe life back into the apartment in an instant. The usual kiss is placed at her hairline as he flits around her apartment, depositing bottles of wine on the counter and tubs of ice cream into the freezer, Chloe following behind him like a sulking shadow. But, Connor won’t let it stand for long. “Your duck son is under a tarp where he belongs,” She mutters.

He’s always been the best at taking care of her. Even before they had solidly declared their friendship. He’d know when to not ask questions and drag her out for a night of fun. And, he knew when she needed his invisible support, to give up a prized possession to her. And, now, he’s dropped everything to bring her wine and ice cream when things turned sour with her family, no questions asked. 

There are days she wonders what she ever did in this life to deserve a friend like Connor. She’d never be permitted to wonder that out loud, but it crosses her mind all the same.

She’s brought into a hug in the safety and silence of the kitchen, and she feels a fresh wave of emotion threaten to swallow her as she buries herself against Connor. But she pushes it down enough to choke out a few words. “I’m just glad you’re here.” If nothing else, at least this proves her Dad wrong. Connor is here. He’s always here, no matter when, why, or where. 

“He’s wrong about that, my Dad. You wouldn’t leave.” It’s mumbled against his shirt, Chloe relying on Connor’s wolf ears to pick it up. 

With that, she sniffles and pulls back, wiping her face dry again. The walls shoot back up, vulnerability quick to be tucked away as Chloe reaches towards the drawer where she keeps her wine opener. “Wine time, if you ask me. I’m too sober to handle this much emotion at once.”

It was meant to be a joyous thing, learning about her past and her family. It was supposed to be something Chloe could celebrate, recovering the long lost journal of her great great grandmother. The book sat on her coffee table in the middle of the room, taunting her after that phone call with her Father. Ruì had lost her sanity in this place. She had to move across the Country when it all became too much for her to handle. And, when the going got tough, Samuel— her equivalent to Chloe’s Connor —told her to leave, and never reached out again as far as Chloe knew. 

You have friends until you tell one of them they’re dying and they leave you behind

Her Father’s voice plays on repeat in her head as she stares at the worn cover of the book in front of her waiting for Connor. She spun the bracelet around her wrist, as she mulled over his words wondering what it would take for Connor to react the same way to her. How many more bombs could she drop until something snapped and her Dad was right? 

How much of that was her own insecurities trying to pray on the one friendship she could count on? 

A knock at the door rips Chloe’s attention from her own introspection, much to her relief, and she wipes unshed tears from her eyes as she beelines for the front door. 

Li Ruì’s Journal, as found in the Talbot Archives. A selection of entries that feel pertinent to Chloe as she reads through them alongside Lilith, trying to make sense of where this family history comes from.

For years, Li family Seers have been tasked with keeping Journals of their time as the family Seer. Li Ruì has been a mystery for many years as her journal mysteriously went “missing” after the family’s cross country move from Las Vegas to New England. Some stories had been brought down from generation to generation, but all seemed to stop before they reached Chloe. She’s none the wiser to any connection the Midnight Underground or how her family ties into the world she felt as if she had blindly stumbled into. 

“You’re telling me.” Nora shook her head, remembering the year that could have easily been a decade when she was racing to figure out how to outrun a family curse. It has been over ten years since then and yet it felt like a lifetime ago. In a sense, it was.

She followed Chloe to the roof and looked out over the horizon. It was a beautiful view, with colors blending together in the sky. The rest of the space wasn’t nearly as impressive, but she was willing to ignore it all in an attempt to play nice. And besides, it reminded her of simpler times of sneaking around with her cousins to sneak into the community center or on top of the school buildings.

“Yeah it’s pretty good.” She sat in the other chair and started to pour the alcohol into the glasses. “Has this always been up here or is this a quarantine addition?” Though looking at it, it was easy to imagine Cam coming up here after some long day doing whatever it was that Cam did.

Nora handed Chloe a glass. “Well. To helping us forget about the hell we’re in at least for a night.”

~

It was grungy at best, and Chloe knew it, but she found a charm in the dingy and broken down. Maybe it was spending so many years on the road, trying to get her head oh straight during her near lonesome of cross country travel. Old motels, dinky roadside stops, and small towns off the beaten up routes through the midwest had given her an odd appreciation for the rundown and mundane. 

“It’s been here. Well, at least it’s been here since I came up the first time. And that was before lockdown, so I can only infer it’s been a while.” The age on the chairs, and the cigarette butts that littered the makeshift ashtray had given that away. “Cam likes it up here, apparently, he was the one to show it to me. Was right to say it’s the best view on the lot, too.”

She clicks her glass against Nora’s, “I’ll drink to that,” She takes a sip of the drink, letting it burn her nose on the way down as she settles back into the chair again. 

“It’s a hell of a thing to drink with someone who can actually metabolize their alcohol and get drunk with me,” Chloe muses, “Connor usually has to pregame with some Werewolf liquor.”

『  ☢  』

It’s undeniable that this realm is a beautiful, the festivities even more so— from all she had heard these lands were endless, fractured in two but no less vast. Lili doesn’t think an expedition across the realm would be such a bad thing, curiosity had never relinquished its hold on her, dangerous as it was, and she’d compiler her findings in one more journal to add to the archives. Henry might enjoy hearing about such things and some sylph had boasted about their in-house apothecary. If only this wasn’t more than a show of…well, she didn’t know what exactly, maybe a show of hubris, avarice…a few of those things were fitting for the heir. 

As it was, there were more pressing matters. Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum were annoying her grandchildren, Lili had stuck herself to the same far wall of the dance hall and she’d tensed her jaw so tightly, she was starting to think the night would end with a chipped molar. There was no enjoying this Faerie holiday, not while they sat trapped inside a beautifully furnished snow globe, traipsing around like some random Faerie wouldn’t decide to steal their names or feed them some non-Fae-enslaving finger food. The possibilities were endless.

So was the night and that itself was really testing the bounds of her patience. From what she knew of this realm, time passed differently but there was additional magic blanketing the space; she could feel it. 

“Knowing Hollis, this itself is a part of their Orator parade— forget cupcakes with their face on them, when you can give the little people a taste of your grandiose. Might sway people to know they come from greatness, even if that very thing might’ve been skipping these past few generations.” You could never trust these royal types to do anything without an ulterior motive. “That better be a little Fae souvenir then. Here’s hoping you get to keep the pearls.” It was the least the heir could do for all of those they tried crushing beneath their thumb, and what are a few pearls when you’ll be inheriting the entirety of a Seelie court? “I’m not even sure, if I’m being totally honest. Seems like it’s more of a formality than anything, the lucky Faerie’s supposed to say yes…it’s not so much a real question.”

~

The whole election for Orator felt like a farce in some regard. She’d have to ask Connor if he knew anymore of it than she did, but it felt so stupid that there was even a proper election at all, giving some false illusion of choice. Assuming that one didn’t get a debt called in for their vote, they were expected to vote for their Circle leader, not across party lines, and to do so with a smile. Meanwhile, Chloe watched the rat race this entire thing was, knowing that more than a few of these leaders were corrupted in their own ways, and the ones she didn’t know about were probably corrupted in others. Frankly, she didn’t want to vote for anyone, but at least Thaddeus didn’t scare her outright. 

As long as she didn’t have to vote for Hollis or Damian, Chloe would be more than pleased with the whoever else got the Orator seat. Karlha or Thaddeus would be fine choices in her book, even if they didn’t make such extravagant shows of their power as Hollis clearly was. Anyone who fell for their act was a bigger idiot than Chloe anticipated. 

Worse was watching the way the family paraded around the room, noses in the air as they played with everyone else like chess pieces in a game no one else agreed to playing.

“This whole thing is so stupid, I can’t believe anyone would fall for that.” If they were truly so royal and special, what business did they have running for Orator? Sure, it was customary maybe with having all four circles have someone run, but there were plenty of Tainted, Imps, and more through the Underground, all o which Chloe would sooner vote for than Hollis. “With my luck, the pearls are probably enchanted with something if they leave Hollis’ possession or something. They don’t strike me as very charitable.”

『  ☢  』

The moment felt familiar, if not inverted. Two siblings tucked away inside her father’s study late into the night, one ear to the door and eyes devouring decades, centuries and more of their family history. Lost to them if Lilith had heeded her father’s warnings. Lost to whatever family remained after her father passed; lost to the family she had now. And in that way, those journals were as much part of the archives as everything else, an echo of a lineage, an echo of a magic bestowed by their very own Goddess; one that had evaporated from her being. 

Levi had it now, for ‘safekeeping’ as she’d began saying some years ago— it was about time she paid him a visit again, tend to the overgrowth surrounding his grave. 

“Makes sense it ended up here then. A lot of what I have here are ‘lost’ things, myths, journals and tomes and whatever else has no business existing or went missing from circulation. Double Great Grandma might’ve left it here or serendipity really had a hand in this one.” And that itself wasn’t as farfetched as one would expect. Stranger things had happened in the Midnight Underground, and stranger things would continue to happen so long as they existed. 

“So much for not having roots here,” Lili says, scribbling away some cursory notes as she updates her inventory— the first ‘loss’ in her archives, though she wouldn’t deem it as such, these belonged to Chloe, “means you just found your way back home. Trés poetic, if you ask me.” Even more than, it was a curious thing considering all Chloe had mentioned before, but what family like these didn’t have their fair share of secrets and skeletons in the fridge?

Closing the book after, she fully turns to Chloe, “might be more in there that’s news to you…honestly, I was gonna offer to fuck off to some corner of the Renaissance section but if you’re offering me a play by play then I’m stuck in this seat.”

~

Means you just found your way back home. 

The ghost of a smile traces Chloe’s lips hearing that. It went without saying that she didn’t feel like she belonged anywhere until she landed here. She had insisted on that fact to her parents, her Dad shutting it down every time, fluctuating between reminding her how far from home she was and how dangerous or unsustainable it was to live in the City or be a part of her club as she called it.

Peeling her eyes from the pages again, she looks to Lilith. “I am, I’d like you to stay, too. Not just for the family secrets.” Though, she was sure those were a bonus in the matter.

Eyes falling back onto the pages, Chloe continues to read, skimming certain parts about her day, who she was going steady with— Ruì had been a Teacher, apparently. Chloe couldn’t begin to imagine such a career for herself. Finally her eyes landed on a familiar name. Cicerone. 

Cicerone appeared to me today. It was unexpected, I never thought I would see her with my own undeserving eyes. However, she insisted that our family have been good to her. That we were destined for great things. Insisted she wanted me to have that power, even. I didn’t know what to say, but I very well couldn’t say no! 

She placed a hand over mine, and swore to me that my family would be powerful seers again. Revered like we were before we left for America. I know she’ll make good on her word. 

Chloe’s jaw set as she read it again and again, knowing perfectly well the answers to her questions lied further into the book, but she couldn’t help but harp on the same thought over and over again. Why did she leave? Cicerone had promised her what Chloe’s own Grandmother had been working so hard to achieve: The power that had belonged to her family long ago. There had to be something that made her want to walk away from all of that. Something that had never been disclosed to Chloe.

“Sor— or, uh. Cicerone. She visited Ruì? Promised to make her family powerful and revered.”

Chloe doesn’t feel the need to disclose why that sounds so odd to her. Lilith knows, anyway. She had grown up around almost exclusively Unaware people in a small town in Maine. Virtually untrained and uncontrolled in her skills. Far from powerful. Even farther from revered, at least in the same sense as the likes of a Talbot or Devlin.

With the chilly social atmosphere beginning to get under Nora’s skin, she found herelf glancing at Chloe. Did she have a similar hatred towards the royal siblings that Nora have? She’s seen the way her and Connor got into their own brand of mundane chaos, but even she likely wouldn’t be okay with the various ways Nora intended to end their lives. But then again, she has been in the Underground long enough that maybe their morals were more aligned than she expected

“I don’t know if I’d say that. Have you seen how he dresses? His eye for art is debatable… He is a great gift giver though. I’ll give him that.” Words she was determined to never allow Connor to hear from her lips, even if he begged her to. She couldn’t let him get that big of a head.

“I have a few more chips I think. It wouldn’t benefit Hollis to have me dead… if only so she could use me for Esme later.” There were layers to that of course, ones she had no intention of telling anyone, let alone Chloe. “The death wish may be small, but I think it might be growing with every passing moment.”

Nora nodded, giving her a small smile. “The company is very much welcome. Please. I don’t know if I can actually keep myself from my deeper impulses if someone doesn’t remind me how stupid they are.” Perhaps that was why Esme and her got into so much trouble. Neither one really did know how to say no to the other.

Determined to keep herself distracted, she gave Chloe her full attention, quietly noting how her dress accented her tattoos beautifully. Nora rarely spent much time with others in her circle, let alone Oracles, but there was a soft hum to Chloe that was infectious. It wasn’t as vibrant as Esme’s rhythm, but there was a beauty to this song too. “So did Connor make you promise to be on your best behavior or Esme?”

~

Had Chloe been able to go back in time and tell her younger self how gray their morals would become the longer they spent fighting for their life, and the lives of the people she loved, while in the Underground, she would be disgusted. Walking around with a weapon her hip when she could. The calculated skills to take someone down if needed being trained into her muscle memory by a Hunter, the ice that ran through her veins any time she caught sight of Hollis or another enemy she had made in the city over the years. It’s something she’d never believe until now. Living that very life. Feeling those feelings. It should scare her more than it does.

“I swear, he’s gotta just be overly committed to the bit or something, he can’t really like these stupid shirts.” She glances back over her shoulder in Connor’s direction, “And then he whips out a suit like that, and helps me pick out this dress, and I have to wonder why we haven’t burned the rest of his closet yet.”

Chloe blows a breath past her lips, the beads hanging around her mouth clicking against each other gently as she contemplates Nora’s words. It raises questions in her mind, but while friendly, she would seldom consider herself friends with Nora. It would be a waste of air to ask.

“Good, this conversation is the only thing keeping me from going over there an attempting to break their arm.” She wouldn’t be successful, Hollis was Fae after all, but she’d be damned if she didn’t try. Well, she’d be damned if she did, but that's besides the point. Nora was the saving grace she needed.

Chloe dares to draw her eyes from Connor to give Nora her attention. If she was going to allow her to be the grounding source that kept her from fighting with Fae royalty, she may as well let the Wizard hold her full attention. Not that it was much of a challenge when she looked as good as she did. Especially dolled up for the likes of Poelanran. “Connor. He said he’d kick me back through the veil faster than I could open my mouth if I did anything stupid. Guess they have no qualms with kidnapping Seers, and he worries. And, my guess is Esme asked you to hold your tongue?”

There was an energy running through Chloe that she couldn’t place with an emotion. It thrummed under her skin like a current, begging for release in a mixture of tears and screams as she stared down at a burgundy bound journal, pages aged, spine creased from where it had been opened pushed back hundreds of times over the years her Great Great Grandmother had held onto it. Li Ruì. Ruì had been her name, it had escaped Chloe for years. Her script in paling black ink on the inside cover, dated with her birthdate, but her death date was missing. Makes sense seeing as it landed here and not with Chloe. 

tentative fingers thumbed the pages gently as she observed the book before her. Years had been spent wondering about the unanswered questions of the shift in her family’s lineage. Why the east coast? Why the secrecy and uncertainty in recent years? What changed? Hopefully what lied within these pages would answer all her questions. 

Her eyes moved from the book to meet Lilith, and she beamed, though the hint of nerves could be seen in her hands as she drummed her fingers gently against the leatherbound cover. “Li Ruì, double Great Grandma. This is her journal. She’s basically a mystery. She even was to her own children and grandchildren. No one knew what happened to her journal, she always told people she had lost it even though everyone knew she was lying.” 

Gingerly, she pulls back the cover, and starts to thumb through the pages with intent, skimming through her younger years. Their time traveling through California in her teen years, until they hit Northern Nevada as she turned Twenty. And then— 

“Holy shit. My family settled in Vegas. in 1905,” Her brow creased as she reread it over and over again: We moved to Las Vegas today. The town has something special about it, I can feel it in my finger tips. 

The magic of the Fae realm wasn’t something so easily replicated— in all truth, any tempts to do so had failed; the first itself was a bastardized version of Neussyriel and all that came after was so far removed from the source, that all Faerie Folk who left their realm felt homesickness throughout. Esmeray herself would never be without that feeling, but she likes to think she’s found magic in these little mundane things.

Sam had called her a magpie before; one of those little creatures that collected baubles and trinkets and the like. It was a habit she’d picked up once she started crossing the veil some time ago. She’d wander around this realm for short moments at a time, collecting stories, first kisses, heirlooms and all other things ( like that Fabergé Egg she kept on the bathroom sink )…but there was wonder in the smaller, inconsequential things. 

A lover’s note left behind in a gazebo, the bottled cries of a man’s catharsis, an old doll gifted to her by a runaway. And now this kaleidoscope. Looking through the viewfinder left her mesmerized. Esmeway was certain the bursts of color could enchant any mortal, but she was lucky to have eyes that saw so much more, “these are of the sensationalities…”

It was one other thing she’d cherish for all the time she had left in her; another piece to tether her as the tides shifted throughout her eternities. A memento once she’d lost someone so important to her— but she didn’t want to dwell on something like that now. Instead she’d focus on the beautiful colors bursting in her line of sight.

Esme sets it down after a moment, the smile on her face bright and the look in her eyes is wonderstruck, “Chloe I am in the lovings of these…in the beautifulnesses. In the honesties, yes?”

~

It’s so silent for a moment, Chloe holding her breath, waiting for a reaction. It feels like a silly and mundane gift, but nothing will live up in comparison to what Esme had done for her. Hopefully, though, it brings some sort of joy to the Faerie’s life. 

Chloe had found Esme had been fascinated with objects unique to their realm when they were together. Chloe hadn’t kept much what with being on the road for so long, but what she did keep tended to be small, personal objects little enough to store in a box in her closet. She often found herself explaining each one to Esme in detail. Chloe just imagined that another small item like that for her own collection would be fitting. 

With all the damage she had done to their relationship, what with lashing out and holding grudges, Chloe thought it was only right to try and repair some of that strife with something more heartfelt than the average throwaway gift. The grin that crosses her face when Esme seems to like it is nothing short of beaming.

“Good, I’m glad. It just seemed like you, I don’t know. I’m glad I was right.”

Nora couldn’t help but laugh. “You know sometimes I forget that the wedding was literally three days ago. Why has the last 72 hours felt as if it’s been a fucking year.” The past few weeks felt as if it was a year. Who had Nora upset to place so much strife in her life in such short of a time frame?

It had never been actual hate when it came to Chloe–she couldn’t find enough reason to ever hate her outright. But there was always a weirdness between the two and the why to it was unclear. Nora rarely needed a reason to dislike another human, but she was of Power as well. And maybe that was it. She may have power but, from her understand, Chloe never did appreciate it the way she should. What Nora would give to have that same view of the world around her. Even beyond that, she was friends with Connor which was its own special type of flag.

“Yeah, the roof sounds good. Count me in.” Anything to ensure that she wouldn’t have to hear Connor and Esme. Those were feelings she was still not 100% ready to unpack.

With a flick of her wrist, the alcohol hovered safely behind her and followed after her as she started to walk outside. She glanced back towards Chloe. “Is there a ladder up there or do you have a secret talent for parkour?” Of course Nora could teleport them both up there, but magic when she got drunk enough was a little hit or miss.

~

“Traumatic bullshit has a way of warping the perception of time,” Chloe muses casually. Though not verbatim, it was a phrase the school counselor had dropped on her after her friend died all those years ago. It had stuck with her in a weird way as something Chloe once resented, but now felt entirely too accurate.

There’s a surprised laugh at the accusation as Chloe makes a joke of flexing her arms. “I mean, I never skip an arm day, but I’m not about to hoist myself onto a roof without a struggle. There’s a roof access, Cam has a whole set up on the roof, it’s the best view on the whole lot.”

Chloe thought so at least. Especially now, with how much time she had spent on its grounds. She had seen a vast majority of the places she could access, and by far the roof was the best. It wasn’t much of a challenge to get up there either, likely by design. Two webbed lounge chairs, foldable, but rusted from weather sat on top of the roof, discarded cigarette butts, some new, some old, sat scattered amongst the tiles. The sun was falling behind the horizon slowly, bathing the landscape in some impressive orange and gold. 

“Told you. Best view,” Chloe reiterates, tossing herself down in one of the two chairs. She motions to the other for Nora.

The last spell she had been casting (summoning a wall of fire, a strong and reliable way to mess up a party) fell harmlessly from her palm, the smell of smoke lingering in the air around her. What happened when a fae was set on fire? Was today the day to find out?

It was a comfort having Chloe close–words Nora thought would never come to pass. With so many fae mulling about, eyeing her and her stupid mask with an unhidden curiosity, finding someone else who was just as pissed off as she was felt like a blessing. She wondered if Chloe had the same odd feeling about this place that she did, given that she was one of the few who traveled to the Otherrealm to save Esme’s life. That was really only two months ago wasn’t it?

“They deserve to get their wings cut.” Plus some, if Nora had her way. “Connor wants to put it in a shadow box and give it to Es. What a romantic.”

Her gaze returned to Esme and Corliss and her hand began to numb as magic built up in her hand once again. Chloe’s question stopped her from tossing a bolt of electricity towards the man’s face and Nora forced the magic to land harmlessly to the ground. “Oh you know, debating whether the punishment for murdering the heir and their brother in front of everyone is worth the knowledge of knowing they will finally be out of our hair for good. So a normal Monday really.”

Nora moved around so her back was to the dance floor and finally looked at Chloe. Despite any odd tension that they usually had, Nora could never deny that she was stunning. “Yeah, I hate it too. I think I’m going to snap at any second honestly.”

~

The smell of smoke reaches Chloe’s nose, and she bites her tongue from commenting on it. Mostly because she knows Nora’s smart enough not to cause a scene like that at this shit show... probably. Well, at the very least, she can hope that the two of them can keep each other at bay, because watching either royal sibling glide around the room with her friend’s in tow makes Chloe want to jump one right then and there. Nora’s the only thing that’s really radiating any sort of grounding effect. 

Chloe remembered how tantalizing this realm was when she visited the first time. How she felt attracted to every shining object and plant in her vicinity, but Connor’s vice grip, and the moon pressed against her wrist were tethering her to reality. It was different this time, being welcomed in. She felt more like a zoo animal than welcomed by some unseen force. The only constant was the bracelet, pressed against her skin, reminding her of the importance of staying safe and sane in a place like this. 

Besides, Connor was out of bargaining chips. Anyone caught in the Otherrealm now was as good as dead in that regard.

She snorts a little too loud at the knowledge of Connor’s plans for Hollis, drawing a couple of extra eyes as Chloe quiets herself. “His interior decorating skills are impressive, I’d love to see it.”

Sucking her teeth, Chloe tilts her head to the side as if really weighing the pros and cons. “Well, Connor’s out of bargaining chips for prisoner release. And, I imagine that they haven’t moved past eye for an eye type punishment, seeing as we also haven’t on our side of the veil. Guess it just depends on how big of a death wish you have.”

“If I hadn’t promised to be on my best behavior,” Chloe sighed. She had promised to do it, though she didn’t promise to be happy about doing it. “At least we can seeth in the corner together, huh? If my company is welcome.”

『  ☢  』

Besides the typical and all too ridiculous machinations of Lilith’s mind, the event itself was a nice distraction— in all the ways that pretty gilded things could be. Everyone in the ballroom was dressed to impress, the Fae themselves dressed in their gossamer fineries and Lili wondered, for just a sliver of a moment, if someone like her could belong someplace like this. The knot in her hindbrain would tempt her to try, but those more pragmatic parts of the archivist said otherwise. 

Lili was a sentimental old hag, and she wouldn’t want to leave any of the people she held near and dear. People like Chloe and the rest.

Just the same, they should have kept to one another. The Faerie Folk were beautiful in the same way oleanders were, but poisonous all the same. Even Esmeray, who, for all of her beauty and elegance, was a force to be reckoned with. There was so much they didn’t know, so much to be learned and as she collected more texts and tomes, it was obvious that those of her realm held no true knowledge of these worlds. The Verum Illud barely scratched the surface.

And there her thoughts went again, operating on a hundred monitors at once, running on fumes and somehow surviving. Somehow she’s still surviving. 

Fuck it if she didn’t wanna test the waters and rip this mask off so she can drink a bit of this plum wine— the Fae equivalent, at least. “For someone leading an entire Circle, they’ve got a lot of free time on their hands for plotting and party planning. But yeah, it is almost as pretty as the wearer. You think those are real pearls, at least?” It was only fair after all. “Give it a minute…I hear someone’s getting proposed to tonight. Wonder who it is.”

~

Chloe hummed, eyeing up the faerie in question who was all but unrelentlessly trained on Connor. Frankly, if Chloe had to choose, she’d take out Hollis in a heartbeat. Maybe even over Damian if the scenario presented itself as such. But, it won’t happen tonight. Mostly because Connor, Lili, and Esme would sooner toss her into the next realm than cause another scene in the Fae court. 

It’s a shame seeing as she had made a hell of an impression on them the last time. Maybe they would have all enjoyed a reprise of the deranged and broken seer. 

But, Chloe would keep to herself and her kind. She may be a welcome guest in this realm, but she’s no more than a piece of performance art for the people of this realm. Like a wind up toy to be coiled and sent off the edge of the table, forgotten as soon as they were bored of the modicum of entertainment. Her lifeline, even now as extended as it was, was a small blip on the course of all their lives. She had no doubts she was an expendable plaything in their eyes. 

It was better to stick to her people, anyway. They’d keep her sane and grounded, something she would not manage to do herself.

“Too much. You think they’d be trying to campaign or something. They don’t exactly have public opinion on their side.” But that was neither here nor there. Chloe reaches up to touch one of the pearls on her mask, and scoffs. “I’d like to say they’re fake, but knowing Hollis? They’re very real, I’m sure. They wouldn’t skimp, even on our lowly selves.” It was a show, that was clear, but a show of power and status. No room for false stones here. Chloe’s eyebrow raises beneath her mask at that, doing a quick skim of the crowd. “Really? Do the Fae even, like, do proposals like that? I kind of figured it was super old Baroque era marriages around here or something.” Dowry and all.

Of all the things to get nostalgic over, these rags - Cam brushed at their frayed edges, oddly glad to see them. Cut from blankets he’d watched Sorcha knit together, that he’d untangled the wool for, once upon a time. Used and re-used, like everything else around here, until there was nothing left to put back to work. They’d have enough in them for tonight. Folding those into another bag, he filled it out with silver polish, soap, and so on. Still listening, and keenly, too; who better to learn something on Oracles from, but one of their own? And Chloe seemed happy to share. 

Her voice carried in the quiet of the kitchen, talking of being touched by a god, her family of seers, third eyes, ancient birthrights; the hum of the fridge and the squeak of the cupboards were the only interruption, as they worked. To have the Cicerone’s hand reach out and offer some Sight, setting sparks in her skull… damn. Had to be the closest thing to true divine intervention he’d ever heard of. And for thirteen hundred years - well over - of prophecies, and pain. More than the migraines, he’d bet. Knowing the future… the future as Chloe seemed to see it, full of gruesome shit more often than not, would be a kind of hurting all its own. With a heart like hers. 

Cam winced, then whistled, low. Imagining it, as much as he could. There was awe to his tone, sincerely, when he spoke again. “Hell of an inheritance, headache and all. So it was your grandma, teaching you? All that history, all your Power?” Not her mother, so - no girls, on the Li side, in that generation? And used to - it’d been a while, since her and that Oracle grandmother talked? Or… no, didn’t need Chloe stuck on sadder thoughts, with what they were about to try. “Hard to beat a grandma lesson,” Cam settled on, as he joined her in the pantry, rifling behind the door. “That’s where I learned most of what I know. Not all,” he added, because you didn’t slight your parents’ ghosts in their own damn house. “But plenty. It’s all legacy, right? Even the little things. The things that seem little.” So seemingly small. Like the scraps of knowledge muttered mid-deer hunt or across the garden beds, or the way Sorcha fixed his grip on the hammer, her forge-reddened face crinkled into a scolding grin. Brooms and dustpans in hand, Cam tipped his chin and looked to that bracelet Chloe had on; the little moon gleamed, even between these dim shelves. “Like - Connor gave you that, yeah?” 

~

“Grandma, yeah. The girl chromosomes skipped a generation. I think it’s a stupid tradition not to let boys have the power. Unless Cicerone herself tells me otherwise, I don’t really care if I have a girl or boy.” Hell, if she lived long enough to create another generation of Seers at this point. “She never got to finish. I was on my own for a lot of my more pivotal years of Seership,” She admits, focusing harder on the food on the pantry as she tries not to let the weight of all of that sit too heavy on her shoulders.

Losing her Grandmother was high on a list of the most difficult things about Chloe’s life. She was the one that wanted to see the tradition of Oracles continue through the family line. She was the one willing to impart wisdom and tradition. And, Chloe had learned a lot in the twelve years she was granted with the best woman she had ever known. But no time with someone she loved would ever feel like enough. Not when she knew how fleeting time was. Chloe cleared her throat, softly, willing the emotion out of her voice to address Cam’s next question instead.

But, she hums in appreciation for Cam’s observation as she moves on to the next cabinet. It makes her wish she could bring of the more traditional things Chloe was used to offering Cicerone. Dragon’s Beard Candy, Lilies, other sweet smelling and tasting things that they had been offering her for those thousands of years. She only stops when Cam points out the bracelet on her wrist, and she pokes her head out from around the cabinets, blinking in a moment of surprise that he had even caught it, let alone how he knew it was from Connor. 

“Yeah,” She finds her voice again to answer, a fond smile crossing her face at the memory. “Yeah, he gave it to me a couple weeks ago. He told me it was for a Wolf’s courage.” And, it worked. Though, it was through no help of magic. Rather, it was the physical reminder that there was someone in her corner who loved and supported her unconditionally. Chloe can’t recall the last time she had that. Every time she touches it or looks to it in a crisis, it’s a reminder that she’s living for more than herself. Her best friend was the connection on the other end of this bracelet. What choice did she have but to persevere? If only so he would not be as alone as she once felt.