inside

“okay you lost me after the phone and the tv,” little boxes that make noise? an alarm clock?  did people still use those? chuckling he took a seat next to her. “ that’s because this generation raised their kids on technology. don’t beat yourself up about it.  it didn’t take long to surmise that she was from old times. times with horse buggies and duels or something. did that mean she was a vampier? no, most vampires liked to blend. even the hoity-toity ones vernacular changed with the times to a degree.  “ what were you good at?  you know before you came here?”

“they are rectangular.” melania explained, portioning her hands the size of a radio. “and very loud--- and when they speak you could feel the vibrations, it’s all quite odd. they tell me it’s not MAGIC but it still feels...” magical. compared to the world she had inhabited as a child everything in this one was new and strange and different. they called it technology but melania couldn’t understand, not when magic felt more accurate. “serving.” her tone was quiet in the admission. “it was all i’d ever been taught. mending clothes and wounds, caretaking.... “ it wasn’t a very full toolset. “i’d like to learn more if the opportunity arises.” 

     benji was accustomed to hearing the unbridled thoughts of others, out loud and inside his own head. at this point he believed there was not a single thing a person could say or think that would shock him. perhaps that had been the basis for his empathy. ‘ to be fair, little kids are like sponges, soaking up new information insanely fast, things are usually easier to learn as a child. ’ he quips with the hope it might alleviate something for the other. ‘ there are a lot of really good resources out there to learn technology if it’s not something you’re familiar with. tutorials for a ton of stuff too. ’

Most often than not Miriam would just stay in her lane – actually no that was a lie. The brunette always managed to get herself involved in things that didn’t even concern her. She was too curious for her own good, that was probably why she ended up in the career that she did. So as she heard the woman ramble about children and their ability to know the world better than well her – she found herself a bit perplexed. “That makes two of us – cause I did not follow anything you just said. Are we talking about technology or something deeper here?”

“ are you alright ? ” similar patients like this used to turn up frequently at the hospital. nine times out of ten, their ramblings of nonsense usually booked them a one way ticket to the psych ward and stephen never heard of them again. erratic behavior was more common amongst adults than it was in children — and the latter had been more his area of expertise. the accident left him wanting to forget much of his old identity but at times like this, it couldn’t be helped. although, she did seem to be a lot more troubled than she did crazy, and her helpless state reminded him a lot of himself when he had first been returned to his physical form. “ being unable to keep up with technology is a lot more common than you might think. i wouldn’t feel so bad about it. ”

“It’s VEXING.” Melania spoke, there was great sorrow to her voice. “So many-- no, all, it is all who know better then I. The blocks that beep, the pictures that move, the little boxes that make noise so loud. Even children know this world well. Babes tall as my knees understand what I do not.” She breathed, trying to keep her calm despite the emotion that swirled within. The shame that came from being unable to learn. “I’ve never felt like such a simpleton.” 

there  are  parts  of  her  soul  that  wish  to  give  absolution,  the  reassure  her  friend  that  all  was  forgiven.  and  in  a  way  it  was.  melania  had  long  since  paid  for  her  betrayal;  qetsiyah  forced  herself  to  remove  all  thoughts  of  the  woman  from  her  mind.  letting  her  anger  fill  her  up,  make  her  hunger  for  the  blood  of  those  who  had  wronged  her.  why  fuss  over  melania  when  she  was  already  dead.  her  death  swift  sending  her  to  the  peace  she  no  doubt  had  earned.  while  she  would  remain  alone,  even  with  creating  the  other  side  qetsiyah  refused  to  stay  there.  instead,  her  broken  spirit  straddled  the  in-between.  neither  heaven  nor  hell  would  suit  her.  there  her  powers  were  not  impeded.  there  she  could  plan  and  she  did  plan  on  all  the  way  she  would  make  him  suffer.  but  in  those  quite  moments.  when  the  worlds  would  grow  silent  and  she  allowed  the  pitch  to  swallow  her  whole.

she  saw  her  face. she  hated  that  face  and  yet  she  didn’t.

it  was  was  a  heartbreak  her  humanity  clung  too.  tempting  her  towards  the  light.  she  will  be  there,  you  can  see  her  again.  go  to  her.

but  she  could  not,  she  would  not.

her  heart  was  set  on  revenge,  it  was  owed  to  her  but    all  that  time  alone  in  the  darkness  that  desire  shifted.  would  she  be  happy  to  watch  silas  and  his  love  suffer.  she  would,  but  she  found  a  better  cause  one  that  now  as  she  thought  about  it  ;  was  melania  doing.  what  little  light  what  little  bit  of  goodness  that  she  might  have  left  she  kept  in  the  hopes  of  proving  her  and  silas  wrong.

that  she  was  worthy  of  being  loved  …  and  she  was.

she  could  only  hazard  a  guess  as  to  why  her  voice  was  only  recently  restored.  the  elders  were  so  pretentious.  "have  you  done  something  to  me  to  apologize  for?    i  was  only  making  an  observation.“  she  mused.  tessa  slowly  began  to  circle  the  other.  that  night  replaying  in  her  mind.  the  satisfaction  she  felt  in  the  instant  she  pulled  out  her  heart.  and  the  sorrow  that  surprisingly  overwhelmed  her  as  tears  fell.  she  looked  just  as  she  remembered,  meek  and  quiet.  how  she  had  longed  to  make  the  other  smile.  to  hear  even  the  softest  of  laughter  from  her.  had  had  never  seen  her  as  less  then.  she  was  simply  melania  but  even  that  simple  friendship  she  had  mistaken.  and  the  knowledge  of  this  sat  bitterly  on  her  tongue.

“oh  melania  please  ,  you  would  take  a  simple  comment  and  make  it  this  grand  gesture.”  she  huffed,  standing  behind  her  now,  she  leaned  close  just  a  bit,  “  you  needed  try  so  hard  i  told  you  i  wasn’t  going  to  hurt  you.  “  her  voice  smooth  and  tepid  as  she  continued  her  circling  .  she  didn’t  want  her  gratitude,  she  didn’t  need  her  sympathy  and  she  didn’t  she  wish  to  see  what  she  could  only  identify  as  remorse.  it  was  her  question  the  set  her  back  a  bit.  for  because  of  who  she  was  she  was  genuinely  curious  and  qytsiyah  would  have  anticipated    to  be  accusatory.  maybe  it  was  in  only  melania  fashion.  “  you  betrayed  me  then,  and  in  my  anger  i  killed  you.  “  she  let  out  a  sigh  giving  a  shake  of  her  head,  letting  a  little  bit  of  her  walls  lower  …  for  her  only.  “  killing  you  once  was  enough  i  have  no  desire  to  do  it  a  second  time.  nor  have  you  done  anything  to  insure  such  a  punishment.“

.

she had never been someone important. she was a servant, her mother’s second daughter of another unknown man. a secondary servant, a secondary friend, and yet. to a very small few, she had been important. to three. only three. the three that were entangled in history’s making. melania herself was only a place in the background among them. larger then life, full of strength and power and yet then there was her. how did someone so tiny stand among giants? how in the world did she manage to find a way into their hearts? amara, her sister, an angel in heart and soul. silas, a man of magic beyond what your dreams could wild and her brother in all but blood. then there was qetsiyah. the heart she doubted. not for it to be, but for melania to have been in it at all. qetsiyah’s heart had been big, and wild, and wonderful. if silas was a giant then qetsiyah was a deity sent from the gods themselves. melania didn’t deserve to be in her heart, not after she had a hand in breaking it. selfishly she wanted to be there anyway, it was those same feelings that led her into hell. 

freudenfreude. even if the woman did more then take her heart, even if she had burned the soul out of melania, all that remained of her would take solace in seeing the world be kind to qetsiyah. such ideals would breed sorrow to silas and amara if melania would to share them, which is why she didn’t. even as she longed for qetsiyah’s smile. selfish to the bitter end, melania knew it would remain of her and there was little she capable of stopping when it came to those emotions. she loved qetsiyah far too much to want anything but happiness for her, even if it’s production involved melania’s ruin. 

she didn’t understand if this was a game. if it was melania’s own misfortunate to claim her own crimes to the victim of them. perhaps this was another circle of hell, more elusive and cruel then the rest. giving her a chance at her dreams before pulling them away cruelly. melania swallowed, insecurity bleeding into every part of her. she was afraid of the life she wanted a second chance at. she was afraid of telling lies. she was afraid of qetsiyah. she was afraid of how much she missed her. how much she wanted her, even now. the burn to ask for forgiveness even knowing she’d make the same cruel choices again, it was something she couldn’t ask for. melania could see it behind her eyes, falling into hell once again, and this moment would be played like a broken record. all she didn’t do , all she did, all the right decisions she was incapable of making and how she managed to wound the woman she loved ever again. 

“i have a great deal to apologize for.” the words felt like a lie. not in the fact that melanina had done wrong, that was true as the sky was blue and the grass was green. rather, her true apology of any sort was one she couldn’t make even when she knew she should. for all she regretted qetsiyah’s pain her love for silas and amara remained. there was no world in which melanina could betray them, and so she betrayed qetsiyah instead. and she was forever eternally sorry for the pain she caused, and for the fact it would happen again. qetsiyah circled her, like a predator did prey, and for all melania’s heart beat in her chest like a hammer she would not run. if she need die once more she’d rather qetsiyah’s deserving hand then a stranger. there was no one else melanina rather be consumed by, even if it resulted in her demise. 

she didn’t move a muscle, even with qetsiyah behind her. instead, for the first time, melania felt the opposite impulse. the urge to run ceased and instead the familiar urge to FALL regained it’d balance. qetsiyah so close--- had they ever stood so close? chills danced upon her skin, desire flushed in her veins, and in her circles qetsiyah stood before her once again. stone turned to flesh and melania stepped forward to leave little distance between the two woman. “i did betray you.” she affirmed, the words felt useless. “i hurt you.” and somehow, as twisted as melania knew the emotion was, somehow that felt worse. like the betray and the pain qetsiyah endured were separate entities, and melania had only suffered for the single one. “there is no apology in the skies to the seas to the terrain below and beyond that will ever change that-” her voice stumbled, emotion swelling, guilt churning. “-that i made you suffer.” the woman she loved beyond the very stars themselves in spite of all the world telling her differently. to melania’s great surprise she found she meant the words, that she could say it truly. the eternal shame she felt for hurting qetsiyah and her great sorrow for being the cause, it was true. 

now here it was. qetsiyah speaking the words that melania hadn’t done more to make her suffer. was it more selfish to deny qetsiyah the truth or burden her with it? melania had denied qetsiyah the truth once, and it had cost the woman greatly. it wasn’t a choice melania was certain of, but there was little that she was. in these confusing times, a new world that wasn’t hell, and even the land before when she lived the first time. she had never been certain, she made choices anyway. this was no different. “that is... incorrect.” the words felt wrong to say, to tell qetsiyah she was wrong. it felt much like she was tying her own noose. “there is something you don’t know qetsiyah.” melania wondered if amara would silence her if she were here, she was almost certain silas would. they would try and protect her. though if it were from qetsiyah or her own words, melania was once again--- uncertain. “you know of my betrayal but you’re unaware of that... “ a choke in her throat and yet melania prospered. “there was also love.” she inhaled sharply, wetness growing in her eyes and melania didn’t know if it was out of fear or for relief of releasing a truth long buried. “i love you.” not past tense, not even when she had been in hell and tried to release the feelings. she’d been unable. “and i hurt you.” hurting a friend was already a terrible crime but hurting someone you LOVE? it was eternally worse. it was the reminder to melania that she deserved to be damned to hell. 

The way that she clung to him would have broken his heart if he wasn’t quite so jaded and twisted. Despite the fact that he resented Cade a bit less than some of his fellow darklighters, that didn’t mean that Hell had been a picnic for Silas. He was haunted by the things that he had experienced just like anyone else. There were resentments there as well, to be sure. He had spent centuries stuck in the tomb that Qetsiyah had fashioned for him, as far from Amara as she could possibly get him and then as soon as he was returned to his full power as a Traveler, death finally came knocking in the form of his shadow self. In fairness, Silas was fairly certain that even if Stefan hadn’t dealt that final blow, he would have followed Amara soon after into the cold grips of death one way or another. They were fated to be together, even in death, and no power could keep them apart forever. He had deserved to go to Hell once the other side collapsed. Silas could admit that, he even embraced it in an odd sense. The woman in front of him, however, had no business there. Even now, with the ability to take life literally at her fingertips, she refused to deal a killing blow in order to protect herself. That quality both endeared him to her and frustrated him to no end. He sighs at her refusal to use the death touch, closing his eyes to keep from saying something rash. Melania was gentle, soft, and he wouldn’t be the person to take that quality from her. “Mel, I understand your hesitation but this is what we were put here to do. If we don’t listen, Cade is going to pull you back. You don’t want that, I know you don’t.” The follow up suggestion makes a tiny smile tug at his lips and he nods. “Sure. As long as you promise to actually use it.” 

The mention of Cade had fear flash evidently in her eyes. There was a twist in her chest at the thought of him, that cruel smile, the way he knew--- he KNEW all her secrets, all her turmoil's and his ability of malice despite them. He was the least human man Melania had ever met and she had met plenty of wicked men during her humanity. Cade however branded her mind like a burn seared into her very bones. He had clipped the wings on her back by force, a darklighter they were called, and it was both freedom and a curse. Success bought reprieve but failure dragged you further into the depths of hell and Melania shook at the very prospect. Her mouth clamped together in a hard line, she felt a tightness to her bones, and acceptance borne anew within. She’d suffered for being selfish before, and she would again. She needed to savior what time remained. Even if the cost was crude, even if it gave Cade more ammunition to torture her with, Melanina couldn’t waste what time remained with her family. She refused. “When he gave us his... mission. The words ran through my head but I didn’t...” She felt stupid admitting it. That she failed to grasp what was supposed to be so simple. “I won’t go back. Even if I-” A stutter, doubt that came with not wanting to take a life and choosing your own over it anyway. “-- there is nothing I won’t do to remain here.” Even if the cost was the very humanity she covetted

─────     →

          Heat immediately emerged against her cheeks, resulting in a light blush as her sister complimented her newfound looks. Admittedly, Amara had never been an insecure woman, not before all of this, but there was a sense of it when she had resurfaced, particularly when she was faced with the reality that Silas was also back. Fear that he preferred her old face, and in turn would reject her new identity. Alas, that did not occur. Thankfully so. “Sister, you are too kind.” Her rapid response, as she grinned from ear to ear, eyes locking onto that of the familiar face before her, one that still brought her such comfort and ease. A soul from her home, her own time. “It was a mix of both, admittedly. The Elder’s had requested my presence, and in turn, were willing to offer me my own identity. To start afresh.” And it was something she was entirely thankful for. For, if she was to return, it was under her own circumstances to some extent, leading her down a new path, that would not tie her to her doppelgangers, and the life that was attached to such a title. “My only stipulation, that I carry some resemblance to mother.” And, they had accepted her terms. “Do you see it?” It was hard for her to, in all honesty. But, that was mainly because she was still growing accustomed to the reflection staring back at her in the mirror, feeling like a stranger in her own body. A difficult sensation for anyone to adjust to. “I’ve yet to. I believe it’s just going to take time,” she began, before biting at her bottom lip, a shrug of her shoulders following, “to realise this is me now.” The new Amara.

She loved her sister’s new smile. Melania had also loved her old one too, of course, but the truth bared itself to the fact that no matter which face she wore Amara’s smile would also make Melania smile too. It was one of the many reasons she accepted her and Silas’s romance (affair, technically, her traitorous mind supplied) so readily. It made a smile bloom upon Amara’s face like nothing Melania had ever known before in her life. Her sister’s happiness brought to life was a gift she wouldn’t turn her back on, and eventually that gift evolved into gaining a brother in Silas as well. For all the turmoil in the results, there were a great many things Melania valued that she wouldn’t trade for the world. This moment may have been one of them. “The elders, they are your...” What was the correct word in this century? It wasn’t Masters like the days in which they came from. Now, what was it? “... bosses?” Melania landed on with uncertainty it was the correct phrase to use in this situation. “How long have you been anew?” It was an innocent question but a fairly heavy one. Melania couldn’t blind herself to her sister’s comfortability in this new century’s customs and traditions, she had to imagine Amara had been returned for far longer then Melania herself. At least long enough to adjust. A smile stitched on Melania’s features at the admission, the resemblance hadn’t been lost on her but she was all too happy to hear it was done with purpose. “You carry her in you,” She spoke. “As do I.” A hand over her heart, as it was where their mother would always remain. A brave woman who had taught them well as she could in their time. Melania felt warmth seeing her resemblance in the new face that Amara wore. “I believe she would have enjoyed this new time.” She was a strong woman, and though it wasn’t welcomed in their past, her own power wasn’t lost on Melania. Raising two young girls with different fathers, a low station, and still a smile on her face. She admired their mother, and always would. “Sister you could wear a donkey’s face and you’d look the same to me.” A moment’s pause and a hasty add. “That was not an insult. Rather,” She grinned, reaching to her sister’s cheek with affection. “You are not defined by the face you wear, but what it is in your soul. It is that same brightness that led you to become what you are.” A whitelighter. An angel. “Silas always said you had the face of an angel, he neglected to mention as well, that you had the heart of one too. Though I’m certain he knew it all the same.” 

slender  fingers  grazed  the  display  of  flowers  at  the  stall,  a  hint  of  a  smile  on  her  face.  she  had  always  loved  the  sight  of  flowers.  her  gardens,  when  she  was  still  human  had  been  her  most  cherished  thing.  letting  her  magic  delve  into  the  earth.  gently  coxing  the  flowers  and  vegetation  to  bloom.  she  had  liked  seeing  it,  when  it  was  the  two  of  them  qetsiyah  for  got  the  twinge  of  pain  in  her  chest  in  his  absence.  it  was  a  shame  that  her  garden  had  been  tainted  by  her  blood,  as  she  ripped  her  heart  from  her  chest.  absently  she  placed  a  hand  over  her  heart,  rubbing  at  the  spot  as  if  she  something  was  tugging  at  it.  she  ignored  it,  paying  for  a  the  boutiques  that  she  wanted.  offering  a  coy  smile  to  the  woman  behind  the  stall.  long  and  lingering  before  finally  turning  down  the  row  at  the  street  market.

she  wondered  what  she  would  do  if  she  ever  ran  into  silas.  if  she  would  throw  magic  at  him,  gouge  out  his  eyes.  slit  that  pretty  throat  of  his.  or  amara,  would  she  scream,  make  silas  watch  as  she  drained  the  life    force  from  her.  she  had  thought  of  these  situation  and  outcomes.  some  civil  but  all  ending  in  violence.  but  never  had  she  thought  she  would  be  standing  in  front  of  …  her.

it  was  funny,  in  retrospect  her  betrayal    had  hurt  the  most.  she  believed  that  it  was  because  deep  down.  she  knew  that,  silas  never  loved  her.  she  had  been  foolish  enough  to  fall  for  his  flowery  words  and  purple  pros  like  a  love  sick  idiot.  but  melania  had  been  a  friend.  someone  she  trusted  and  yet  another  person  that  didn’t  pick  her  first.  rolling  her  shoulders  back  she  kept  her  look  neutral.  hips  swayed  in  the  dress  the  caressed  her  curves  .  this  century  fashion  was  starting  to  grow  on  her.    she  was  only  a  foot  away  as  before  she  stopped.  “  how  is  it  that  even  here  you  speak  so  quietly?”  she  mused  taking  note  and  taking  pity  at  the  nervousness  the  other  showed.  sighing  she  relaxed  slightly.  “  hello  melania,  you  can  relax  i’m  not  planing  on  hurting  you.”

.

once upon a time, in a land far away and a time even farther, qetsiyah had been her stars. so beautiful, aglow in the sky, entirely out of reach. the closest to them melania knew, was closing her eyes and picturing them close to her hands, to her heart. eternally reaching, never to touch, always beautiful and bright among the darkness. but stars burned, and so did qetsiyah. burn beautifully and, eventually, that flame raged. melania didn’t fault her for it. no one was responsible for her time in hell’s abyss but her own self and her own choices. qetsiyah may have ripped out her heart, but melania had been the one to give it to her. a choice she should have regretted, a choice she was a fool not to regret. the same sin that turned her towards hell itself and all the suffering it ensured. yet regret for many things haunted her, those same feelings were not one. she couldn’t. she touched the fire, and though it torched her it had also been warm. a warmth that melania had never known. a warmth which she would gladly burn for. 

in this moment melania wondered if melting from the heat of qetsiyah’s gaze would be a better reckoning then having her given heart torn out once again. there was no happy ending to their lives only violence that bred violence until rivers of blood flooded the land. melania knew this yet her feet wouldn’t carry her away, her heart was too heavy at the sight. the want she still felt, the conflict of emotions that left a storm in her chest. it was both fear and longing that kept her still and made her want to run. longing to live, fear for her life, fear of her, longing for her. 

her quiet had loomed over melania her entire life. she needed to be quiet for the sake of her safety, because someone of her lower class wasn’t allowed to be loud or the consequences would damn her. she had been damned anyway, and yet even now in a world where she was allowed to be loud it was quiet she remained. it was something ingrained into her, and melania struggled to fight. fighting was never something she was suitable for. fighting her instincts, for her own welfare or even her own feelings. she was someone weak. and even if they had born in those more accepting time, melania knew she would never be strong enough for qetsiyah. she wasn’t capable of it. “my voice has only been restored of recent,” in hell her throat had been raw from screaming. there was no true excuse but melania surmised that had to do. “my apologizes.” for so so much, but in this moment melania stuck to the basics and simplicities. “i don’t believe i’m capable.” she always had chills with qetsiyah in the room, focus set on her. it was only after her death those chills changed into something different. “but i do appreciate the sentiment.” because she couldn’t help her manners even in these different times she held onto them, melania didn’t know if it was for better or worse. “do forgive me for asking,” qetsiyah wouldn’t, she shouldn’t, but the speech pattern was another trait ingrained into melania. “you said you wouldn’t hurt me but... why?” her knowledge may have been seldom on qetsiyah’s long revenge, but she knew enough to know her resolve to allow melania freedom from death was suspect to the woman she knew. the woman she loved. 

“I’m fine. It’ll heal.” A fight among wolves, something that was bound to happen with the abundance of wolves in town, two of those very packs being rivals. Carter wasn’t sure if the wolf that decided to terrorize some of his pack members was a crescent, from a different pack or a lone wolf. But he didn’t care. Not when fists started swinging on his people. Carter wasted no time in intervening, he was protective to a fault and like hell was he going to let some unknown wolf terrorize his pack. He had the upper hand in the fight with the years of training on his side, the opposing wolf was only able to land one hit, shredding flesh from his shoulder. Blood poured in ribbons, but it didn’t hurt. He’s been through far worse. He could have delivered the fatal hit, but he was sure a war among wolves wasn’t something Kadir would appreciate. He also wasn’t someone that showed mercy. So currently, the opposing wolf was tied up, knocked out, beaten, bloody and torn waiting for his alpha to make the call on what happened with him. “Here, just hand me that will you?” He nods to the rag that was out of his reach. @sanguishqsstarters​

It was not a place Melania had the right to be. By a stranger's side, trying her earnest to help them. Even so it was a place she felt drawn, in her day’s as a human the first time she had often helped the wounded. She had became accustomed to it. Melania had often been the one drawn upon to help men for her lack of distraction. They had taken it as capability on her part,  not realizing it was simply disinterest for what they offered. The situation was ripe with violence, the smell of blood loomed in the air like a stench Melania knew all too well. “Yes.” She spoke, her tone quiet as she handed him the rag but didn’t assume to treat him. He still looked shaken from the encounter and she knew better then to startle a man shaken by violence. Instead, she took closer inspection to the wounded man tied to the pole. “I don’t wish to untie him,” Because it felt her due to mention that to begin with. She knew better then to assume without inspecting all criteria in the situation. “But I’d like to look at his wounds if that is acceptable?” He obviously made the choice to spare his life, but Melania was uncertain if that meant a long death for the other man or something kinder. She hoped it was the latter and not the former. 

There were two people on this planet that he would never allow harm to come to if he could help it, and Melania was one of them. Seeing some rogue mutant — a bastardized version of him — try to sink their fangs into the neck of the woman that he considered his little sister was enough to make him go completely berserk. There had been no consideration for who might be watching or what the consequences would be for his actions, he just knew that he had to help her. “You’re okay, you’re fine,” he whispered, his thumb softly wiping the blood from her cheek. His arms wrapped tightly around her, one hand tangled into her dark hair, gently stroking the brunette locks. She was panicked, and he could only hope that his arms around her would produce a calming effect rather than instill more fear. “It was already dead,” he reminds her softly. Vampires weren’t alive, not really. They were simply reanimated in a way similar to the magic that had Silas and Melania standing near each other. He pulls away, looking down at her with a gentle affection in his eyes. “Listen to me. We are going to have to teach you how to defend yourself, alright? I can’t have you unable to fight back. Cade gave us a death touch, remember? You just have to be sure to use it.” 

In bewilderment to the magnificence of his power, often, Melania forgot just how truly powerful he was. He could shatter glass with the softest touch if he wanted, there were so many in the world who feared him but Melania would never be one of them. She wasn’t able to, not when he had sworn her protection, shown her nothing but love and acceptance. That moment she had been so utterly terrified, bearing her heart to him, the urging that their society looked down upon in horror and disgust--- and Silas had embraced her. It was a moment carved into Melania’s memory, that not even hell could demonize. For however powerful Silas was, her mind drew to Qetsiyah. She wondered if Silas had been around that day, that moment, would he have been able to stop her? Melania didn’t know if Qetsiyah had ripped out her heart before finding Silas or after, she hadn’t had a chance, but head on-- she feared Qetsiayh would have beat him. In fact, Melania was almost certain of it. So what would happen if she came back now? She held onto him tightly, perhaps too tightly Melania worried, as she trembled and held tighter with the fearful thoughts of Qetsiyah running amuck in her mind. Even now, after thousands of years in hell and brought forth to a new land, a new world, all Melania could think about was her. “I don’t....” She knew Silas wouldn’t like hearing this. Yet it needed to be spoken, because it was the truth, and the truth had never failed her before. At least not when it was to Silas. “I don’t believe I could do it.” It was a confession true and yet something that terrified her, it was her sole purpose in this new world and yet--- “I can’t take another’s life Silas.” Even if they were already dead, even if it was her who stood before Melania. “Perhaps--- may I learn defense? I could accustom to a blade?” It wasn’t instant death but it would protect her. 

“You’re beautiful.” In another conversation such words had far different connotations attached, but in this instance they were nothing but innocent and filled with utter devoted affection from one sister to another. Melania had missed this. Amara’s company beside her, the absolute assurance that no matter what occurred that was where Amara would remain, the comfortability of being able to make any mistake before her sister and simply remain loved. In this new world love came without conditions, but that hadn’t been the world in which they grew up. That world, their world, had so many--- too many. It had made Melania terrified, to be discovered in all her wrongdoings, to be judged, to be made an example of. Now here she was, in a world that didn’t judge, and yet she only remained comfortable among Amara and Silas. Now it was her own problem, not the world’s. “This new face of yours,” Melania mused, and she did a light boop to her sister’s nose. “Had it been chosen for you or by you?” They weren’t the same eyes she knew as a child but she still saw her in there, AMARA, without doubt, her sister and dearest friend. 

There was a loss of heartbeat. Melania didn’t even know if her heart still needed to beat, as a darklighter, and yet--- she was certain it skipped one the moment she laid eyes on the woman who had killed her. The woman who had stolen her heart in every sense of the word. It’d been easier to convince herself she’d been protecting Qetsiyah. That telling of Silas and Amara would only break the woman’s heart, not telling her was far kinder, lying to her face was somehow a kindness. That selfishly, she enjoyed the time she had Qetsiyah to herself while Silas and Amara had their escapades. That perhaps, once she realized her feelings weren’t returned by Silas, that perhaps Qetsiyah would see Melania as more. It’d been unrealistic of a dream. They were two woman after all, and even beyond gender they were of far different social standings. Melania was a servant and Qetsiyah was a powerful witch. Yet--- Melania couldn’t help but dream. 

Dreams that, in her time in hell, turned into nightmares. All the truths she ignored suddenly screamed in her ear, no longer whispers in the back of her mind. How unjust her feelings were, how she had truly betrayed the woman she claimed to love, how she had chosen Silas and Amara even in their cruel affair, over Qetsiyah. If she truly loved her, telling her the truth would have been what she’d done. That Melania deserved her torment in hell. Both for hurting Qetsiyah, and for loving her. It was a conflict, but one she deserved. For how could you love someone and hurt them? For someone that was not yours to love. She suffered, and Melania knew she deserved it. Yet, laying eyes on Qetsiyah again for the first time since she breathed once more. That same breath fell short. “Hello.” She said, her voice small. She wouldn’t run, even if every instinct in her body told her feet to shuffle. Melania owed Qetsiyah that much. To ignore her own cowardice and to face the woman with the truth, for the first time. 

A scream​ tore from Melania’s throat. She couldn’t forget it, her years in hell ensured as much. The moment Qetsiyah’s fingers dug into her heart, nails sharp, a perfectly furious look upon the woman’s face. A face that Melania had looked at so many times, thinking how cute her nose was, how exquisite her eyes were, how wonderful her smile was--- the face who watched her die, who killed her, who she lied to again and again--- so many selfish reasons weren’t enough to fix any of it. Nor to fix the fact that loving her at all was what landed Melania in hell, or so she had thought for so long. Hands shook her shoulders and her eyes burst open with alarm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” She cried, still lost in her nightmare, only for reality to step in. “Oh, I--- I didn’t mean to bother you. My apologizes.”

As a child, and even as an adult, Melania saw the rain and thought the sky was crying. The world was sad, so the sky cried. When it stormed, it meant a different emotion entirely. A sorrow and anger together mixed, fueled with frustration, Melania knew the feeling all too well. It was as familiar to her as the palm of her hand. So she watched the sky roar, and the thunder cry, and tried not to flinch when the lightning sprung like a whip from the sky. “Thank you,” She found herself saying. The girl was a STRANGER, but she’d been kind enough to house Melania until the storm ended. Kindness like that shouldn’t be dismissed. “You’re serving me a great kindness allowing me to take shelter here.” She forgot the block Silas had given her, and she didn’t how to use those automobiles that carried you places. “It will not be forgotten, and I will find a way to repay you in the future.” 

She was a darklighter, and often Melania forgot that it even had meaning. It intertwined with her having gone to hell, but abilities that came with it left her confused. She’d only ever been human, without any powers of her own but to watch in wonder of Silas and Qetsiyah and their artful mastery of magic. She wanted to learn, how to use whatever strength she could muster to be able to fight for herself. So that this didn’t have to happen again. A vampire, a strange new species with pointy teeth, pulling her to the side and biting into her neck--- then Silas was there and he responded. Blasting them with magic, and the vampire became a SPLAT on the pavement. If he hadn’t arrived when he did, Melania would have been the splat. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, heart pounding in her chest as Silas approached her. She couldn’t hear what he spoke, shock too imprint in her. There was blood--- the vampire’s blood on her face, her own blood running down her neck, and Silas was wiping it from her cheek-- and speaking--- god, she needed to breathe. “It’s dead.” She said finally, as if calling the vampire an it would make it any least human, like a beast who wanted to kill her and not a person making a CHOICE.