"Jack."
Sarah's voice sliced candlelit stillness, smooth and cold. She crossed her legs under her, slowly, one heel on the other knee, crimson eyes half-closed with the serenity of a predator. Kneeling beneath her, Dominic's back was straight, his head bent, his breath steady but hollow.
"What is it that you want of me, Lady Rouge?" His voice was toneless, automatic, a tool waiting for a word. One hand rested on his chest in ritual submission. "Your will is law."
Sarah tilted her head, a small smirk distorting the edge of her mouth. "I have something I'd like you to do, but I suppose context would help your little machine brain, wouldn't it?"
Dominic lifted his gaze just so far as to catch hers. "If it is needful."
She crouched forward, elbows on knees, speaking in a whisper that shook with repressed rage. "Do you believe I'm roaming about in this frail body for sport?"
His gaze darted up for a moment, then fell once more. "Was there no other vessel?"
"I was killed." The word shattered like glass. "Two centuries past, one of my own sisters—Bleu—betrayed me. She gave a gift to a mortal king. He used it to erase me from the world."
Dominic's hands clenched on his thigh, the faint rustle of leather creaking in the quiet room. "And now?
"Reborn that ruler has been." Sarah's eyes burned with greater ferocity, the red light cutting through darkness like firelight cutting through smoke. "But the sword has not shown. It's been sown in his heart. I'm going to dig it up from the deepest depths of his soul."
He nodded once. "So, what do you want me to do?"
Her smile returned—tense, clever, sadistic. "Not to kill him." She rose up, her bare feet making gentle rustling noises across the stone floor until she was standing above him. "I want you to break him."
Dominic's breathing jerked, a small pause. "Mentally?
"Yours." She knelt, tracing her fingers against his chin, lifting his face to hers. "He is still in control of his own body, with heavy trauma comes their reincarnation taking over like yours, for example."
Sarah laughed softly. "Dissociative identity disorder… it's no different from a reincarnated person taking over…. break him." She rose again, pacing to the window. Beyond it, the city glowed faintly under an amber night sky, restless and unaware.
Her tone turned cold again. "And then take everything. Memory. Certainty. Love. Until the only thing he can trust is the sound of your voice."
Dominic stayed kneeling, the air around him tense and heavy. "And when he's broken?"
"Then," she said, her reflection caught in the window's dark glass, "I'll look him in the eye, and pull the weapon from what's left of his soul."
A silence followed. The candles flickered.
Finally, Dominic rose, his face unreadable, but his voice with a small tremble. "Lady Rouge, why are you purposely not revealing his name"?
"Come on". She crossed her arms. "I'm trying to build up suspense here… It's that boy with the violet eyes".
"You're saying that he's the reincarnation of a king"?
"He has the soul of that brat in his body and that weapon is the one of the few weapons that can slay a Primordial Witch such as myself".
Dominic raised an eyebrow.
"Hmm, I have never heard of any legend that suggests that the Primordial Bleu gave such a weapon to anyone".
"People called her many names long ago, she was a water goddess and the queen of the faes".
"Fae"? Dominic's eyes slowly widened. "The stories of legends told of you Primordials as fallen angels that came onto our plane of existence to bless us and cause chaos".
"Fairies in general are fallen angels". She got closer to his face, running her finger along his jawline. "We are angels not good enough for heaven and not bad enough for hell, with that weapon, I will be able to conquer this mortal realm and bring my rule".
Dominic's cheeks flushed slightly at her sultry tone and her finger running across his face. "Of course, anything for you, Lady Rouge".
3 hours passed
The sun, an unwanted guest, pried at Audrey's eyelids, leaking persistent gold through the heavy curtains. She laid on her bed, staring up at the ceiling fan spinning, trying to anchor herself to the mundane physics of the universe.
The sheets were cool and crisp against her skin, a stark contrast to the clammy dread that had become a permanent resident beneath her ribs. One, two, three… Each count was a tiny dam against the tide of memories.
She couldn't sleep properly the whole night but she pushed herself upright, the silence of the room heavier than it had been a few days ago. An empty bed, neatly made, sat empty beside hers, a phantom presence that somehow still hummed with his unsettling calm. She didn't look at it directly.
She focused on the intricate floral pattern of the wallpaper, she stared at the space between the flowers, staring at the emptiness of the distance between the flora. No thoughts. Just a pattern.
Then she stood up. Her fingers hovered just a breath away from the shower's doorknob, trembling as if the air itself weighed against them.
Her hand dropped to the hem of her shirt. The fabric clung to her skin, reluctant, as though it too wanted her to stop. She tugged once, then froze, her breathing stopped. The motion caught halfway, revealing a glimpse of her toned pale stomach that shimmered under the dim bathroom light. The stillness stretched.
She exhaled. The shirt came off in one smooth, reluctant motion, falling to the floor with a soft whisper. Beneath it, her skin was an unfinished mess, stitched together like a broken doll, streaks of old scars, pale ridges of healed wounds. They ran across her body.
Her pants slid down next, pooling at her feet in silence. The tile was cold beneath her soles, almost comforting in its indifference. She stepped out of the circle of discarded fabric and leaned back against the wall, letting her scalp rest against the cool surface. Her nails pressed into her palm until half-moons of red appeared, small proofs that she could still feel something. Anything.
Her eyes were dark, heavy-lidded, blurring slightly as she waddled into the shower, her elbow pressing against the edge of the doorframe. A flush crept up her neck, not from embarrassment, but from the heat of her own pulse a reminder that her body still pulsed, a slight sign that it was her own body.
Audrey reached behind her back, unclasping her undergarments with practiced ease. She let it slip off her shoulders as she stepped into the shower. The curtain dragged slightly, its rings shrieking faintly against the rod. The water started slow, a hesitant drizzle before turning into a steady, hot stream that hissed as it struck the floor. She twisted the knob further until the warmth almost burned, letting the sting crawl across her skin.
The first drops hit her shoulders, rolling down the curves of her body like threads of molten glass. She tilted her head back, eyes open, watching the ceiling blur into a vague whiteness. Steam filled the air. The sound of running water swallowed everything, the silence, the thoughts, the world.
The heat burnt against her completely bare body, completely stripped away of any clothing.
"I'm so tired," she whispered, her voice drowned out by the sound of the rushing water "I just want to sleep… forever. I want to run away from everything."
She sank down slowly, her wet back sliding against the wet tile, her breath hitching as the cold wall pressed against her spine. The air grew heavy, her limbs heavier still. The contrast of heat and cold carved a strange numbness across her body, like her skin was dissolving into the water, leaving only thought behind.
Her mind began to unravel at the edges. Thoughts no longer formed sentences; they bled into one another, shapeless, wordless, tired. The water beat down in rhythmic waves, each one washing away another layer of strength, of resolve, of her.
The light above flickered once. Her eyes lifted—barely. For a second, the reflection in the chrome of the showerhead shifted. It wasn't her face. Or rather, it was her face—but something was watching through it.
Her pupils dilated, flickering between black and green, then back again. A silent pulse. A heartbeat that didn't belong to her.
She came out, her body dripping with water as a cold breeze brushed past her pale body. She walked up to the mirror, staring into the expression that wasn't even hers, black empty eyes that didn't belong.
She brushed her long blonde hair until it shone, the rhythmic pull of the bristles a dull sensation against her scalp. She chose a simple, unadorned dress, its soft fabric a comfort against the phantom ache in her collarbone where the stitches had been. Her reflection stared back: dull green eyes, a pale, unblemished face that still felt like a mask.
Breakfast was served in her room, a quiet affair with Tian, the head butler, placing a plate of fruit and toast on a small table by the window. He moved silently, his face as impassive as ever. Audrey focused on the delicate slices of apple, the way the light caught their glistening pulp. She chewed slowly, deliberately, her jaw aching.
"Master Elias sends his regards, Miss Audrey," Tian's voice was a low murmur, barely disturbing the quiet. "He hopes you are finding some comfort in your new arrangements."
Audrey's hand tightened around her fork. She swallowed, the toast suddenly dry. "Of course." Her voice was flat, careful. She didn't look at Tian, didn't want to see any flicker of knowing in his eyes. New arrangements. The phrase felt like a cage. She focused on the space between the crumbs scattered on the plate, brushing them against the edges of the plate with her fingertip. Just crumbs. Nothing more.
After breakfast, she retreated to the neglected corner of the estate's garden, away from the manicured lawns and the unsettling black roses. Here, the stone statues were clean, their faces were unsettling like they were all staring at her. She sank onto a weathered stone bench, the cool rough surface a grounding presence. The air was humid, heavy with the scent of damp earth and distant ozone from the riot at the zoo.
She closed her eyes, trying to clear her mind. The sound of a bell rang in her head, a leftover ghost of the intense mana fluctuations she'd experienced, was a constant companion. She focused on her breathing, slow, deliberate inhales and exhales, as Hoshimi had taught her. Deep breath. Push it all out.
A flicker. A memory of shattered glass, the roar of seawater, the monstrous, stitched child lunging. Her breath hitched. She opened her eyes, startled, and forced herself to look at the nearest statue. An angel, reaching its hands out towards the gates of Heaven.
Mother's grave.
Her fingers twitched. She remembered Hoshimi's voice, calm and steady, guiding her. "Imagine your soul exiting your body and breaking up into panes of glass." She took another slow breath, her eyes unfocused, staring past the chipped stone, past the wilting flowers. She felt the subtle bubbling of mana within her, a faint hum, like a distant lullaby trying to assert itself.
"Vigil Hexa."
The word whispered from her lips, soft, barely audible. A translucent hexagon shimmered into existence a few inches from her palm spinning around slowly, quivering like a disturbed insect's wing. It was small, no larger than her hand, and not perfectly formed, its edges slightly crooked. But it was there. A tiny victory.
She held it, focusing every ounce of her concentration on maintaining its form, pushing away the persistent images of Adrian's rage, of the monstrous children and of Hoshimi's violet eyes. Control. Just control. The hexagon pulsed, a fragile shield against the chaos within and without.
She practiced for an hour, creating and dissolving the hexagons, each attempt a small battle against her own swirling thoughts, each spell tugging at her soul. The effort was exhausting, but it was a welcome exhaustion, a physical weight that momentarily distracted her from the mental challenge.
After a while, Audrey walked back towards the mansion. Her shoulders slumped, but her gaze was a little steadier. She hadn't broken… yet. The thoughts had tried to creep in, a relentless current against her dam, but she had pushed them back.
She paused by the fountain, staring at her mother's grave once again. The cicadas, now emerging in full force, resumed their screaming symphony.
Audrey clutched her arms, a shiver running down her spine despite the warmth of the evening. The silence she cultivated, the routines she clung to, felt less like peace and more like a temporary truce.
"What are you doing here Audrey"? Hoshimi asked, his voice a low, even hum that somehow cut through the chirping of unseen birds. He smiled softly.
Audrey let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. "Come on, what do you think I'm doing here"? She retorted, though the bite in her voice was softer than usual. "I was taking a breather obviously, your arrival alone has given me enough stress".
He shrugged, stepping over a fallen branch. "You don't want to see my beautiful face"? He sat down beside her on the nearby bench, not too close, but close enough that he could feel the faint residual chill of mana.
"Of course not, I don't want to see your ugly mug wherever I go". She clicked her tongue as she crossed her arms.
Hoshimi glanced over, looking at the paperback in her lap. "What are you reading"?
Audrey glanced down. "Just a terribly predictable romance. Girl meets boy, boy saves girl, they live happily ever after. Utter nonsense, really." She closed the book, setting it aside.
Hoshimi picked up a smooth, grey pebble from the wall, turning it over in his fingers. "The cicadas are unusually loud today. Means rain is coming, usually." He threw the pebble into a patch of tall grass. "Or maybe they're just complaining about the heat."
Audrey chuckled softly. "They have a right to, it's hot as shit out here". She stretched her arms, enjoying the slight pull in her muscles. "It's strange, y'know? Everything that happened, this place… at least this garden feels normal".
He stared up at the statue of the angel with his hands stuck deep in his pockets, his eyes staring softly at the contours of the face.
"Do you hear that"? She whispered underneath her breath.
Hoshimi slightly tilted his head.
"The music of the angels, it's coming from the statue".
"Has everything made you become schizo"? His gaze sweeping over the wild roses that climbed a crumbling archway. "Being normal really is a subjective thing, some people have different views on this world".
"Stop spouting your philosophical bullshit". Her eyes narrowed, turning into thin slits. "You're just like Elias, finding some way to turn a conversation into a battle of philosophical ideals".
"Well I apologize". He leaned against his palm as he crossed his legs, resting his elbow on his knee. "I was forced by my mothe-well stepmother to read a lot when I was younger, I guess this is just the way I talk".
"Your stepmother? I want to know more about her, I wonder if she's as dense as you", Audrey asked, plucking a small, forgotten rose from a low-hanging branch, being careful to avoid the thorns.
"You've seen her before, she's the vice principal of Hex".
Audrey had her mouth wide open. "No wonder you managed to get within the top ten".
Hoshimi shook his head. "You really think I would do something like that? I never even knew she was the vice principal before the entrance exam, she just wanted to test me".
"Do you love her"?
"Of course". Hoshimi twiddled his thumbs. "But that doesn't mean that I don't despise her as well, I hate her the most".
"Do you know what loving someone feels like"? Her eyes widened staring straight into his eyes. "Not familial love but something more, have you ever fallen in love with someone"?
"Why're you asking me this"? He got closer to her face. "Have you fallen for me"?
"Of course not, you dickhead". She opened her palm, and a tiny, perfectly formed translucent hexagon shimmered into being, resting on her skin like a delicate snowflake. "I just want someone to care for me, someone that can hold my hands and open the door for me, I want a boyfriend".
Hoshimi's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, a rare display of surprise, as he slightly chuckled. "You think a boyfriend will help you with that"?
"Of course". She pouted as she stared at the book in her hands. "It's not like I can escape out of this wretched place anyways, I'm under house arrest". Audrey suddenly turned her focus onto Hoshimi, pushing her index against his solar plexus. "Mister, you're going to take me out on a date".