The small, waxed candle that was mounted awkwardly into the sugary viscosity of chocolate frosting flickered dimly in front of her. She held the tiny cupcake in front of her without emotion, observing the weak flame as it danced lightly along her dry breath. Her facial expression became that of a bored one. "Happy birthday to me." the arch-sorceress muttered to herself, taking in a small draw of air before releasing it with puffed cheeks, taking little effort to blow out already-dying flame. With small fingers, itching to claw at someone's throat, she plucked the candle out like a weed, and with a flick of her tongue, she took a small lick of the whipped fondant. Doing so, the frosting suddenly fell apart, like a sandcastle eroded by waves, in sugary clumps and landed noisily on the fabric of her skirt. Pandora growled angrily, throwing the stupid cupcake into the trashcan; she didn't even know why she bothered to bake something for herself today- she couldn't even boil water to save her life!

But… in all reality… she really did know the reason why she went through all that trouble just to make herself a damned cupcake. It was a small seed of knowledge planted deep within the vines of her soul, beginning to flourish at a snail's pace- that maybe her birthday, which happened to be today, is good for something, other than being an accessory to the festival in which she despises: the Night of Holies.

Yes, she was born on the Night of Holies, a day in which you would think that most children would be conceived, and not delivered into the cruel world. A day in which lovers were free to show their affection, which, ironically, she would never be able to experience. She thanked the arch-dragon when the man called Aden broke her petrifaction spell and realized that no one on the island had ever heard such a festival. Still, she died a little inside whenever some blasphemous tourists came and spread the love like a plague on that fated day.

The tradition of the Night of Holies had carried out even before she became petrified, some 400 years ago. It seemed that the kings and queens, merchants and wives, little children with a pure innocence, joined part in the spit-worthy festival. Even her own two parents, their social differences like that of a lion and a mouse, became just a tad more affectionate than before.

And it made Pandora sick. Sick to the core of her semi-magical being.

How dare they, on her birthday, celebrate such a useless, time-consuming festival? She could practically feel a pair of lovers share a rendezvous of lips as she hastily opened her presents, she could see the salty tears that flowed from some petty girl's eyes as her lover proposed, instead of seeing the sugary cake her dearest mother made. Even as the girl blew out her dripping candles, out of the corner of her hardened gaze she could see her own parents, one mortal and one not, her father proud and her mother shy, give each other a deep kiss, becoming one, that made Pandora want to gag.

To be frank, she hated the Night of Holies. It was the bane of her existence, and she detested it with every fiber of hatred and spite and pure wrath she could muster.

Her room was cold and dark, reflecting the essence of her bad mood. The only source of light came from a brew of ingredients that gave off a lazy yellow hue in its pot. Naturally, it was supposed to be bright, vivid, surreal; a spell that would make any object blinding with light when it was to be dipped into it. But, once again, Pandora had managed to somehow screw the recipe up, and it soon became a makeshift night-light.

N-not that Pandora needed one or anything.

The sorceress sighed with contempt, and turned to the clock in her room.

8:04.

Just three hours and 56 minutes left to go, and then her birthday would be officially over. Over, and so would the Night of Holies. She kept trying to convince herself that her bed was extremely comfy- 'The sheets are 100% cotton Pandora!'- But she unwillingly forced herself to get up and out of it. Pandora pulled the knob on a clothing drawer, and picked out a pair of gloves to wear. She opened the door, and, outside, she saw an array of lights decorating the flowers, plants, trees, the wedding bell. She walked a few steps, feeling the snow crunch beneath her feet. Her shallow breath fogged in front of her, she walked down the steps lackadaisically, saw more small beads of light pattern the roof and pillars of the small marketplace, like tiny stars. They coated the church too, and swirled around the large elevator shaft that hung on the edge of the cliff like stripes on a candy cane. They illuminated the starless night, and the tourists were walking around and talking to each other casually, admiring the bright orbs. Pandora smiled to herself, glad that no one dared to celebrate that dreaded holiday without her consent. Once she ruled the world, Pandora promised to herself, she would get rid of that stupid festival once and for all. And replace it with "Day of Pandora," in which everyone would give her presents and no one dared to show endearment to their lover. Yes, that sounded lovely.

Pandora smiled to herself, and watched as her floating scarf, a pashmina her mother knit and her father enchanted with magic, languidly levitate above her. She pulled on the soft, purple fabric and held it against her cheek, feeling its warmth and power emanate through each thread of yarn. Her eyes wandered across the area blankly, wondering about some recipe for a spell that could blind people, but pondered whether or not she would become blind herself when she finally finished the brew. All her thoughts instantly ceased when she saw two familiar young men coming towards her. Her scarf, its fabric wrapped around her fingers, suddenly shot up in temperature, and it almost burned Pandora's sweet fingers. The heat that blazed throughout her lovely scarf was enough to make the cloth twist and writhe above her. The sorceress suddenly remembered why her father had enchanted it. 'You have a hard time identifying your feelings, child.' He said gruffly, placing his hands over her new scarf, enchanting it, 'Now the scarf will move and bend according to your emotions. It will tell you when your sad, happy, bored, 'He grinned and gave her a wink, 'Even angry.'

That's right. She was angry.

Because the last thing she needed were two stupid boys ruining her almost semi-decent birthday.

"Hheeeyyy!" One of them shouted, most likely at her, wobbling over with a slight saunter that could only be distinguished with the heavy intoxication of alcohol. The other young man kept a worried hand on his friend's shoulder, ready to catch him if the alcohol affects had proved to be too much for him. Pandora scrunched up her nose, identifying the two almost instantly.

Aden and Joe.

On nights like this, it was no surprise that one of the oldest islanders that could still be considered a child had drunken a bit too much wine. He was much like his grandfather in that way: loud, confident, a bit ignorant and a lot intoxicated -though not as much as his grandfather always is- and that is the reason Pandora thinks he is an incompetent fool. The only hindrance that keeps her from spiting him is the irksome fact that one of Pandora's best friends (and minion, at that) Sonja, happens to think highly of him.
Aden was nice… she guessed. He was the one that broke her free from her stone form-which lasted about four centuries or so…so she kind of considered him a friend. Kind of.

Although, that didn't stop the blush from spicing her cheeks red when the two approached. Joe was now leaning on Aden, a goofy grin spread happily across his face, the surfboard he strapped on his back hung loosely behind him. "It's Pandora! What's up, pal? How's conquering the world 'n' everythin'? Goin' good?" He joked, but she did not at all find his sarcasm funny.

"In case you were wondering, Joe," she spat his name like venom, "it's going absolutely spectacular. Once my quest is complete, in fact, you'll have the great honor of becoming my personal entertainer."

Joe smiled at her, and tried to stand before he began to sway to the side and fall. Lucky for him, Aden caught the fiery redhead just in time, and the drunk laughed heartily, looping an arm around Aden's neck for support. "Sounds fun." He winked at her, and Pandora groaned.

"You are truly disgusting."

"Why'd ya say that?"

"Because you're as drunk as a dog."

The man looked at her funny. "Pssh, please. I ain't no dog! So what if I like to drink? Everyone does."

"I don't believe you are able to commit to that statement," The girl said, her patience for his annoyance growing thin, "because I, for one, certainly do not."

"Well then that just means you're the only one who's got the enormous pole up their ass. Because there's a whoooole lot of people back at the inn who are getting' a lil' tipsy. Me and Sierra had a chugging contest." His face turned sour just for a moment, "She beat me… I'll get her next time," he hiccupped, waving his closed fist in the air, his attention span negated from the booze. Pandora scrunched her eyebrows, was everyone doing the exact same thing he was doing? Even Aden's eyes looked a little foggy from liquor.

"Come to the Inn with us, Pandora." Aden spoke up, squirming under his friend's weight. He grinned at her, and she felt as if a cage of butterflies were released in her stomach. Still, Pandora stuck her chin in the air and refused.

"No thank you, my dear minion. I have better things to do than get intoxicated and vomit all night long."

The silver-haired man frowned, his eyebrows furrowing together. "That's not all we do…" Aden denied, "We talk and sing and have a good time. C'mon, Pandora. You'll love it."

"And the puking part isn't as bad as you think it is." Joe added.

"I said no, and 'no' means 'no.'" Pandora replied curtly, spinning on the ball of her heel, looping her scarf in between the crooks of her elbows. She began to walk away, thinking of how stupid and biased she could be. Why didn't she want to go? Because she was stubborn. Stubborn as a mule. Because she wouldn't let those two boys feel any pleasure at knowing they were right when the sorceress let herself enjoy the evening.

"But it's your birthday, isn't it?"

Pandora froze, so still she could hear her heart beat like a drum in her chest. She turned slowly, and Aden's eyes, she swore, almost pierced through her. They were glassy, full of frail sadness. He looked at her in a funny way, his head tilted and the thin line of his mouth softening, as if he almost…

Pitied her.

No one pities Pandora. No one. There should be nothing pity-worthy about the powerful girl. With the snap of her fingers she could break one's bones. With a flip of her hair she could suffocate her worst enemy. A simple breath, and her power could call death to whomever she wanted. But his empty stare dug deep in her soul, searching for that seed of knowledge she planted well. The soft blue gem of his irises had sent a wave of helplessness wash over her, like a tide that scatters sand away.

She had no idea why. And that scared her.

"W-well it does happen to be the day in which I was born, th-thank you for pointing out the obvious-s." Pandora tried to retort back confidently, but her voice was weak and shaky, the base of her tower beginning to crumble.

"Weeeeellll, I'd love to stay and chat, but…" Joe chimed in, tapping his chin, finding the right word to put the snooze-fest lightly, " You guys are just too uptight for me. It's like watching a…a… well, I dunno. An old married couple." He shrugged, straightening himself out, still a bit woozy. "If you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go find Sonja and have her lug me around instead. She's a lot more fun than you guys." Joe stated, waved, and began to stumble away. Pandora was hoping that her unwavering gaze would burn a hole in his surfboard. Aden laughed and nudged her a bit, to which Pandora scowled.

"Joe's a good guy. Really. He just gets a little excited whenever he drinks." Aden gave her an assuring smile, looking at Pandora thoughtfully, "Which isn't as often as you think."

"I'm sure." She retorted.

He smiled nonetheless; unaware of her slightly peeved state. "You wanna go sit down? It's kind of uncomfortable standing up." He asked, shifting his weight to the other foot and jerking his thumb towards the benches that resided some couple yards away. She looked at Aden. Now that he mentioned it, Pandora was beginning to feel the dull pain of her lower back flaring up again. She put her hand there and winced slightly, looking at the wooden benches as they seemed to beckon her.

"That would be pleasing." She agreed, and the two began to cut their way through the cold air. As they trudged through the light snow, Pandora noticed how the flakes of ice had nipped the man's nose raw, and how he shivered as he buried his face into his scarf, the crimson color of his cheeks contrasting with the icy paleness of his skin. His posture was hunched over, his hands buried in the thick arms of his jacket. She frowned, remembering that humans were weakly creatures who were easily distraught by the slightest of things- in this case this meek weather- and often never well. Being a sorceress, the cold weather only rapped and repelled against her powerful skin. Her scarf, hot as branding iron, helped also. And as the two sat down on the two benches outside, Pandora quickly poured the fabric of her scarf into his hands. His hands jerked, shocked at its unbelievable heat. He turned to Pandora curiously. "Just put it on, it's warm," she muttered, shoving the magical fabric his way. Aden held it in his fingers, observing it cautiously, before wrapping it around his arms and sighing contently.

The two sat there for a while, watching the peaceful scene without a word spoken between the two. Pandora's whole demeanor relaxed, her posture languid and unperturbed. She hadn't even noticed when Aden slipped a small white box into the folded fabric of her lap.

She noticed the foreign object, and looked at it curiously, "What is this?" Pandora asked, grabbing hold of the box, weighing it in her palms. Aden's eyes lit up, and his smile blossomed.

"Just open it." He urged. The girl stared at him inquisitively before she slowly, with fragile caution, as if building up the man's excitement, began to open the box. He must have really wanted her to open it, Pandora concluded, coming from the way his body shivered in anticipation. Or maybe he was just cold. Either one.

And when she folded the top of the box back, stripping its barriers, the sorceress saw that what lay inside was a small cupcake: white, sugar-spun frosting adorned with red sprinkles. She looked at the pastry for the longest time, feeling herself slowly disintegrate with every sprinkle her eyes encountered. Her hands began to tremble.

"It's for your birthday." The man next to her explained, scooting closer to her. She could feel his breath trail along the back of her neck. "It's not much, but I really wasn't sure what you wanted besides those super rare rune crystals. So, with the help of Sonja, I made this cupcake for you." Aden shrugged nonchalantly, but Pandora couldn't hear, no, she refused to hear him. Why is it that this man, someone she barely knows, is the only one on this goddamn planet to acknowledge her birthday? But it was also the fact that he cared about her, that he thought about her today especially. And that drove her to pitiful pain.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she turned away from Aden, refusing to let him see her in such a pathetic state. The tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped onto the ground, and she watched as they slowly changed their form and became ice, stronger and sturdier than it had been nestled against her eyelashes; like it was free to do anything it wanted after it left the vessels of her irises. Sadness did not suit Pandora well.

'Get ahold of yourself, Pandora!' She thought to herself urgently, 'Now's not the time for your "boohoo" sob story!'

Pandora conceded, and wiped her face on the sleeve of her shirt. She quickly rotated herself back facing Aden, who had been staring at her curiously.

"Uh, are you okay?"

"Yes, minion, I'm fine. Thank you for the concern, and if you'll excuse me, I will be taking my gift and leaving." She murmured, grabbing the box and yanking on the scarf that was knotted between his arms. Spinning on her heel, she began to briskly walk away before she felt someone's hand tugging on her elbow.

"Pandora, wait."

"What do you want from me, Aden?" She pleaded, jerking her arm from his grasp. Aden flinched at her sudden outburst, but his hand, held out in front of him securely, never faltered. Pandora turned around to give him the deadliest of glares, but something red, glowing brightly in contrast to the pale snow, caught her sight, and it was the only thing she could focus on at that moment.

"What… is that?"

The man stepped closer to her, his hand still stationed in front of him. His stare never left the rubies of her eyes. "Apparently, some people celebrate some festival called the "Night of Holies" today as well. And, quite frankly, I thought it was appropriate to give you something for that festival too because it's your birthday…." The silver-haired man admitted, his cheeks become as red as the rose wrapped in his fingers, "and maybe because… I kind of like you."

So many hateful words slithered in her mind, spitting and hissing within the confinements of her skull. They were caught on her tongue, gagging her, and she tried to let them abscond into the air. But instead, she whispered a quiet, "Oh."

Aden smiled at her sadly before pulling her hands toward him and placing the rose in the soft skin of her palms. Pandora gripped it tightly, feeling it pulse in her hand as if it were alive and living. It's crimson petals felt like velvet against her knuckles, and the dew that hung on the edges of it made the fragile flower look as if it were bleeding. Pandora could not keep her eyes off it; it was so… simple. Simple and beautiful.

Something full of a hard-working man's love.

She stared at it until its cherry hue bled into the snowy background, until her scarf suddenly fluttered to the ground, like a bird that got shot from the sky. Both pairs of eyes followed it.

"Uh… I think your scarf…kinda … dropped." Aden told her, confused. But he wasn't the only one; Pandora eyes strayed from the floweret, and she now watched the stationary scarf with a nonplussed, almost panicky, expression. What just happened? Pandora bent down and let her fingers rummage through the dead cloth, her breath becoming sharper. It felt cold. Ice cold.

'What about love, Papa?' little Pandora asked curiously, and the man smirked deviously. 'Love? You won't ever feel love towards someone other than your mother and I, so there's no use for you, or this scarf, knowing that.' She observed the fabric. 'So... if I felt great love towards you and Mama now, what would happen?' He looked at his daughter. 'Nothing. Your scarf would just... to put it simply... become like any other scarf. Ordinary. Normal.'

Her scarf felt normal.

Pandora let out a high-pitched squeak, cupping her hands around her mouth. The rose in her hand fell to the earth, and the realization hit her like a train going at full speed. 'No,' she thought damningly, feeling heat rise to her cheeks, her feet slowly slipping off that train track, 'There's no way. No way in hell would I ever-'

"Um, Pandora?"

She jumped, the sound of his voice was like a spark that just set fire. "Y-yes! What is it!"

He stepped towards her, placing a worried hand out. "Are you okay?" But before she had time to answer, Aden had grabbed her wrists and brought her towards him, making her drop everything, embracing her. Their faces were inches apart, and she could feel his warm breath dance on her chapped lips.

"I...I…" The smaller girl stuttered, balancing herself on her toes, reaching to his height. Aden smirked, placing his hands lightly on her waist and drawing her closer, bending slightly to meet her small stature. She placed her hand onto his shoulder for support.

"You what?" He asked playfully.

Her face flushed, and she glanced at the ground, at how close their feet were.

Now she was in the air, seeing the fast blur of the train screaming past her, the wild trees in the distance, the hard ground slowly becoming larger in her vision.

"A-according to my pashmina, I… I appear to have feelings for you."

"What kind of feelings?" He teased, and Pandora scowled, too self-conscious to say that word.

"L-l-lo-lo-"

"Love?" the man deciphered, and Pandora nodded childishly.

"So your scarf is in love with me?"

Pandora groaned. "Ugh, you stupid minion! Of course not! It seems that I am the one who loves yo-Amph!" She didn't have time to complete her statement, because Aden's lips crashed onto hers, and she, though completely surprised, immediately melted into his broad body. Their heads moved simultaneously, instinct for both of them, and they both scoot closer to each other as if to fill whatever space the two had left gapped between them. Whatever spite she had felt towards Aden suddenly evaporated, like the frost that hung in the air. Now, all she could focus on was this man and the fact that the two were both kissing, both sharing an intimate moment, one her father said that she'd never have. Pandora decided that she liked kissing. She liked this. Her hands slid around his neck and tugged him softly downwards –standing on her toes was such a pain– Pandora could feel his smile imprint on her lips. He tasted like vanilla, she decided, while the man thought that her lips left a hint of cinnamon swirling in his mouth, and he absolutely loved her taste. Aden groaned hungrily, and traced his tongue over her upper lip, wanting to explore her mouth, but she broke off their passionate kiss. They're mouths were still close, a trail of saliva connecting their lips, like a conduit for two lively, electric power sources. She smiled happily, letting her fingers curl along the base of his neck.

"Yes… I love you…" She whispered, beaming with joy.

To her surprise, the ground wasn't as hard as she thought it would be.

Aden chuckled and pressed his forehead against hers. "Ditto."

"You love yourself? How narcissistic."

He laughed louder now, "You know what I mean," He cooed before grazing his lips across her nose and onto hers once again.

Maybe… just maybe… the Night of Holies isn't that bad after all.

A/N: This is the first romantic thing I've ever written (obviously) and there's not very many ToD fics, so I thought I might as well make one :) There are little hints of Joe/Sonja because they're both amazing, and I also felt like writing about Pandora :D :D I have an idea for a multi-chapter ToD fic, but I'm still sorting things out for that one. I want to write at least ten chapters of that in order for me to post the first chapter on Fanfiction. Still on chapter three of that one, so I have a ways to go.