Guess who's back? Back again? Yep, it's me! Told you I would be updated soon, and with a chapter over forty pages long on Word! This chapter is more of a backstory about what happened between Kiara and Helena, which may shed some light on the hostility between them, and how evil Helena is. To me, she is the Sebastian of the werecat world. Hope you like this chapter! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own none of Cassandra Clare's characters, locations, plot lines, or ideas.


Chapter 15: Backstory

They were all splayed around the spacious library. Hannah sat in one of the two tall leather chairs, dressed in her usual armor and attire, attention on the tome placed in her lap. Jace sat on one of the plush couches, perpendicular to the fireplace, stroking Clary's head in his lap as she sketched the room. Magnus did the same to Alec's head as they sat on the couch parallel to his boyfriend's parabatai. Alec held the book up, reading slowly from an ancient text, full of untold history and stories that made his eyes light up in fascination, which Magnus adored. Simon and Izzy were the only ones that were not sitting on furniture. Instead, they laid on the carpet, close to each other, a book opened between them. Simon was wide-awake, reading through a book on werecat power and abilities, while Izzy following along quickly, nearly as fascinated.

All of them were silent, relaxing after a long day of training. They decided to rest after dinner, but Kiara and Alyssa headed back to the training room for a little while longer, while Max and Rafael had been put to bed around the same time, both of them nearly falling asleep on their plates during dinner. A large fire cracked and danced in the great stone hearth, casting them all in a soft orange glow. The sun had gone down nearly an hour ago, but the curtains were open, showing the shining, lively city below. Suddenly, Simon raised his head from his book, turning his attention to Hannah.

"Lady Hannah," Simon asked somewhat timidly. Hannah lifted her gaze from her book and looked towards Simon. Her gaze was patient, like a mother with a curious child.

"Yes, Simon?" her voice gentle.

"I was just wondering…What did happen between Kiara and Helena?" Simon asked excitedly. Hannah's eyes widened in shock when he asked the question. The question also caught everyone else's attention. Jace and Magnus looked up from their loves, Clary stopped sketching, Alec put his book down, and Izzy closed the book she had been reading. All of them looked between Simon and Hannah, waiting for an answer.

"What do you mean?" Hannah asked patiently, confused.

"Well, what exactly happened?" Simon asked, somewhat excitedly, like someone trying to get spoilers for the next issue of their favorite comic book. "Was it, like, Kiara took over the throne and now she wants it back but Kiara won't give it up? Was she the other queen's right hand guard, and Kiara betrayed her? Or was it like Kiara was falsely imprisoned, and she defeated the queen to earn her freedom? Something like that? Because there is obviously a deep rooted rivalry between them, and a history, if they've been hashing it out for over a century." Izzy elbowed Simon softly, and he stopped abruptly, somewhat embarrassed.

"Simon," Hannah spoke gently. "I do not believe this is my story to tell. It is Kiara's. And she will tell you her history with Helena when she is ready."

"I'm ready now," a voice said from the entrance. All of them turned or lifted their gazes, seeing the royal couple in the open doorway. Kiara was dressed in a black sports bra, loose boot cut jeans, and grey fur ankle boots, with a towel draped around her neck. Alyssa stood a bit behind her in similar attire, but she had on a grey sweatshirt that left only her hands and head visible. Based on how wet both of their hair was, it was more probable that they had just emerged a shower rather than training. Kiara made her way into the room, leading Alyssa with their interlocked fingers, seating herself on the only remaining empty seat, which was closest to and angled towards the fireplace. Slipping off her shoes, Kiara pulled her legs up to her chest, her toes sticking off the edge of the seat. Alyssa didn't say a word, just sitting on the arm rest, leaning against her wife lovingly, stroking her hair softly. The position seemed so natural, like they did this all the time. Perhaps they did. The dancing flames made both of their faces glow. Alyssa's attention zeroed in on Kiara, while her wife's eyes portrayed how old she was in the firelight. She looked tired.

"You wish to know the whole story of my rise to the throne?" Kiara asked as she gazed at all of them. The way se spoke seemed detached, and completely unnatural. Simon and Clary nodded their heads eagerly. Jace, Izzy and Alec just nodded once in reply. Magnus didn't move; he just watched his sister as she sat there. Kiara gave a small, somewhat amused smile to them, and turned her face to the large fire. The light made her eyes glow, and she rested her head against Alyssa's side, keeping her arms locked around her legs. Alyssa wasn't fazed, immediately wrapping one of her arms around Kiara's shoulder's and continues to lovingly brush her wife's damp, chocolate locks.

"Aunt Hannah," Kiara said quietly. "Will you please tell the story? I am tired, and you are such a great story teller."

"Are you certain, Kiara?" Hannah asked gently. "I know how much this story pains you. You do not have to tell them if you don't want to." Kiara kept her eyes to the fire, and gave a single nod. Alyssa turned to her and did the same, as if to indicate that it was truly alright. Hannah sighed.

"Very well," Hannah said finally. She turned her attention back to the group. "I will tell you. But be warned, this is not a happy tale. There is no set happy ending, nor is there always happy ideals."

"Just makes it more realistic," Jace said, not rudely, but intrigued. Clary was too engrossed in what Hannah was saying to nudge him. Hannah nodded her head in agreement.

"Let me tell you a tale," Hannah said in an old, ancient voice, filled with wisdom and knowledge. "This is the story of a mother and daughter. A young, broken, prison girl, and the queen of a powerful race. It is a story of their meeting, their lives together, their influence on each other, and their love for each other. And the story of what tore that bond apart."

All eyes were on Hannah, glued to her as she spoke. All eyes but Kiara's. She watched the flames dance in the hearth, relishing in the soft, comforting touch of her love as her aunt's words took her back to the painful past.


It had been centuries ago. My sister, Helena, had been queen for nearly five hundred years, leading our people to prosperity. She was a good queen, we all thought. Strong willed, smart, and always knowing what to do, she led our people with an iron fist and unbreakable focus. However, she believed that in order to succeed in a battle, you must be cold and unforgiving with your enemy, and that physical strength made you a more valuable asset to your people. This was a tactic I did not believe to be true, but she was the queen, which meant I had to follow her instruction.

One night, we received word that some of our warriors had been captured by a madman. We also learned that he had been kidnapping females, mundane or otherwise, and holding them captive, torturing them and then discarding their corpses into the nearby river. He was a Nephilim who had decided to do some experimenting with the pain effects on females. His victims were tortured, raped, beaten, and even killed, for no reason other than the man's pleasure and entertainment. Needless to say, we wasted no time tracking him down to end him.

Within the hour, we infiltrated the facility. We laid waste to the men who guarded the cells. My sister and I led the search for our people, and freed any other women that were held captive along the way. Lives were lost as we slew the captors, and they slew our fighters. Meanwhile, my sister and I focused on one goal: to take care of the mastermind behind the operation ourselves. However, the retelling of that battle is unnecessary.

Once he was dispatched of, we knew the fight was over, that he would no longer harm another woman. Helena then opened all the cells at once, and instructed our guards to help anyone who was imprisoned. Hundreds of women, young and old, were saved that day. From torture, from death, from a fate worse than hell. I requested that we sent guards or healers with them to help them recover mentally and emotionally from the trauma, but Helena wouldn't agree to it. We had come to rescue our people, nothing more. The other women saved were just a bonus, but now had to fend for themselves.

Then, as we were making our way out, something caught my attention. Helena was no longer at my side. When I turned around to see her, she stopped several feet behind me, at one of the open cell doors. She was staring into a particular cell at the end of the row. I moved back to her, and was about to ask if there was a problem, when I saw for myself.

A girl was on stone floor, her knees to her chest, arms crossed over them and her head hiding behind them. She wore dirty, tattered rags that barely covered her torso, and her skin covered in lacerations and blood. I caught a glimpse of cuffs around her wrist, chaining her hands to the wall behind her. Her feet were not covered, and her toes were beginning to turn blue. As we watched her, she did not move. At first, I believed her dead. That was until I heard her give out a small cough. Helena then entered the cell, and I followed, on guard.

Helena knelt down before the girl, and placed a gentle hand on her arm. The girl immediately slapped it away, rattling her chains, and revealed her face to us. She was a beautiful girl, with amber cat eyes and matted stringy chocolate hair. Blood, dirt, and bruises coated her face. When she looked at us, there was nothing in her eyes. They were dead to the living.

"Do not touch me," the girl spat, her voice dripping with venom and shaking slightly. I was about to reprimand her for speaking to a queen this way, but Helena silenced me.

"Fear not," she said calmly. "I am Queen Helena; this is my sister Lady Hannah. We wish to help you." The girl looked at us with those dead eyes, unbelieving.

"No you do not," she said in a toneless voice. "I am too broken to save, not worth saving. Just leave me in this cell. I belong here. Let me calcify."

"That is not an option," Helena had replied. She then cast a spell on the girl, and her eyes rolled back into her head. Her body slumped as sleep overcame her. In a flash, Helena sliced the chains open with her claws, and carefully removed them from the girl's wrists. Then, she gently lifted the sleeping girl from cold, hard floor, and turned to carry her out of the cell.

"Sister," I asked, truly perplexed, and she stopped at the entranceway. "If I may, what are you planning in regards to this child?" She turned around, looked at me for a moment. She then gazed down at the girl's sleeping form, and a small smile crossed her face. The gaze was full of something I'd never seen expressed by my sister: wonder.

"I am going to rebuild her," she told me softly, and carried her out of the facility. When we returned to Krymméno Florr, Helena brought the girl to the castle. Needless to say, it was shocking. No queen had taken a stranger into the castle willingly in over a thousand years. Despite this, Helena was known for being unconventional.

She personally saw to the girl's recovery, taking her to the queen's infirmary, meant only for the royals and her family. The girl was asleep for days, weak from sickness, injury, and starvation. She had an incredible fever, and did not wake up for weeks. During her unconsciousness, we nourished her and performed all the healing spells she required. As she recovered from the fever, her body cleansed, nourished, treated, and healed for when she awoke.

During the whole ordeal, I barely left her side, and Helena remained as often as she could, for we were interested in this girl. Every day, when Helena didn't have to attend important business, she was in the infirmary. Many times, I passed through the halls, and watched my sister stare at this girl, holding her hand gently, silent and watching. Moreover, always with a sense of worry and intrigue about her. Helena was interested in this girl for reasons unknown to me, which also made me interested in her. However, it also worried me. Helena had to have a motive when she said she wanted to "rebuild" the girl, and I pondered what she meant. However, my sister did not reveal anything further to me, too concerned over the ill child. Therefore, we waited for her to wake again.

When the girl finally woke almost two months later, it was as if it was nothing had occurred. She just opened her eyes, as dead as they had been when first encountered, and just laid there, still as the dead. Helena and I watched her as she blinked her eyes, both of us holding our breath in anticipation. The girl just laid there for a minute, and then sat up stiffly. She did not stretch as if from a long sleep, nor did she look around in wonder and confusion. All she did was sit there, her face a void of any emotion.

"This is not my cell," was all she said. Helena shook her head, looking slightly amused.

"No," Helena replied. "No, you are in my infirmary. You have been asleep for weeks."

"You should have left me to die," was all the girl replied. She then turned away from us and laid down again, facing away and kicking off the blanket draped over her. I was shocked by her lack of graciousness, and couldn't take it.

"You shall be grateful to Queen Helena," I said, angry at this child's complete lack of respect and gratitude from being saved by my sister. "She has graciously taken her time and effort to personally treat you and see to it that you fully recovered from your ordeal. If not for her actions, you would be dead. You will show her proper respect and gratitude." My reaction startled me. Usually, I was much more understanding or compassionate, much more so than my sister ever was. However, in that moment I unbridled rage overcame me. I believe Helena may have cast a spell over me, but that is not important.

The girl just laid there for another minute. Then, she sat up again and turned to me. Her eyes were still dead, no emotion reached them, but she scowled as if she were angry.

"I am not thankful, as I did not want to live," was what she responded. Then she turned away, laid down her head as before. What she said truly shocked me. However, Helena seemed unfazed.

"What is your name child?" Helena asked, somewhat demanding rather than gentle. The girl remained unmoving.

"I have none," she replied. Helena did not question her about this further, but did not cease her questions.

"How long were you incarcerated?" she asked the child with the same tone.

"I estimate fifty years, at minimum. At least, that is what he said the last time he came to see me. I lost count some time ago, but I would estimate his time was accurate to the truth," the child replied. My sister nodded in understanding.

"It must have been quite an ordeal," Helena said quietly. I remember thinking, suspiciously, that there was a hint of pride or admiration in her tone. "A young, inexperienced, and naïve warlock as yourself chained and tortured for half a century. Tell me, how did you survive as long as you did?"

"I suppose he took pleasure keeping me pinned to the cliff edge of death," the girl replied with a humorless, dead smile that matched her eyes. "He would beat me to the brink of death, starve me, and emotionally devastate me for hours on end, and then stop, keeping me alive for another day. Most of his victims lasted about a year at best. Any other type of creature was killed off. But for some reason, he just loved to keep me around."

We asked her more questions after, but she did not answer. She remained silent, flat on her back, her eyes on the ceiling above. Her reactions and outbursts perplexed me. Most girls would cry at the torture they were put through; some may have even been driven out of their minds. This girl, however, her eyes did not water once. If anything, she seemed more defiant and hardheaded than sad or pained. It was truly astounding to me and to my sister as well.

That night, when she was asleep, I asked my sister what she would do. The sudden surge of anger having past, I was fully concerned for the girl and her wellbeing, wanting to assist her as much as possible, though remain cautious. Helena just said that she would take care of everything that was necessary. Soon, the child would be one of us. The way she spoke, it worried me, but I was far too concerned with the girl to ponder it.

The next day, when the girl awoke, I fed her, apologizing for my outburst the previous day, to which she did not reply. Then, Helena had the tailors come. She told them she wanted them to make the girl a whole closet of clothes, and to clean her up. This shocked me, as Helena had never done anything like this for anyone before, but Helena just waved off my questions in favor for the stylist's ideas and comments. They took her measurements, began designing, and soon after the girl was taken to the springs to be cleaned, groomed, and pampered. Still, she did not smile once. She remained as she had been the entire time. Emotionless. Dead inside.

"Why are you doing this?" I remember she asked my sister before entering the private baths. "What do you want from me?" I turned to my sister, wanting to know the same thing. However, Helena just smiled what I knew was a falsely compassionate smile, and urged the girl into the healing room.

This pampering continued for weeks. Every day, Helena gave the girl material valuables. Dresses, artworks, jewelry, books, weapons, medicines, inestimable amounts of expensive items. In the meantime, she didn't spend as much time with her, always consulting with the tailors, or interior designers, or her royal duties. Therefore, I spent the majority of my time with the girl, watching over her as she slept, bringing her meals and eating with her so she was not alone, making sure she took the medicine the healers had recommended. During this time, I began to feel an emotional attachment to the unnamed child, but she still didn't say a word. It was not until the fourth week after she had first awoken that she finally began to open up more.

"I like purple," she said one day. I had been sitting at her bedside, reading a book while Helena had been talking to a designer about bedding for a spare room in the castle. It was going to be her room. Helena, the designer and I all turned in shock to the girl, who was still laying there, staring at the ceiling.

"Purple what, dear?" the designer asked. I remember she had a thick German accent.

"Comforter," the girl responded, not looking in our direction. However, I remember her voice tinged with an emotion I could not make out. Perhaps it was amusement. Or wistfulness. I am still not sure.

"I want a purple comforter, please." Needless to say, we were all shocked. Not only did the girl speak about something without being asked, but she had even used manners rather than biting replies or sarcasm. Helena and the designer were overjoyed, and so was I.

"Of course," Helena replied happily. That was the end of it to them. They went back to discussing the furniture and colors of her room, but my focus remained on her. I smiled kindly, happy that she opened up about something. However, it seemed to make her uncomfortable, as I noticed there was a tinge of pink in her cheeks and she averted my gaze for the rest of the evening.

When her room was finished the next day, the girl moved there. Moreover, every day after all my appointments and duties were finished, I would go to the girl's room, and talk to her. It was a grueling process, one that Helena believed I should cease after a few days. Nevertheless, I was patient, and for days I calmly spoke to the girl. Helena would watch, and as I learned more and more about the girl, I began to care for her, though not as I suspected my sister seemed to.

A month after we settled her in her room, the girl finally left it voluntarily, joining us for breakfast in the hall. She looked nervous as she sat at the table, with a buffet of food placed before her, servants catering to her needs, and trying to use the utensils properly. I found this incredibly amusing, in a good way, though Helena did not seem to notice it. I did demonstrate how to use the utensils for her, subtly, so she wouldn't be as embarrassed and ask for help. It worked, and I was rewarded with a tiny, thankful smile that sent my heart soaring with joy.

Once we were finished eating, she accompanied my sister and I to the training grounds. Since we had no engagements until later that evening, Helena decided to train together. The girl came along, not wanting to be left alone in such a cavernous building, and I could not blame her. It does get rather lonely when you are alone in a foreign land.

Helena and I both drew weapons. I myself had my double bladed axe, while my sister wielded her famous double swords. As we fought, I kept glancing at the young warlock. Her cat eyes were alive as she sat there, excited and amazed as she watched us. I believe glancing at her so frequently was how my sister was able to defeat me so easily. When our fight was finished, I heard the girl clapping and cheering. It was the most emotion she had displayed since her rescue.

"That was astounding! Magnificent!" she exclaimed. "Would you teach me to do that? To fight as you do?" Both my sister and I became shocked at this request. It was most random and quite unorthodox.

"Would you not rather learn magic?" I asked, worried about her sudden burst of enthusiasm. "You are a warlock. It is rare that you would like to learn any subject other than magic unless it was related to magic."

"I want to fight!" she replied vehemently, her face set and fists balled. "I am a warlock, and I do want to learn more about magic and how to utilize it, but I also want to be able to fight! To defend myself without magic if it is not necessary! Most people say that because I am a woman, I should not know how to fight. Well, you two are women. I want to fight like you can! And know what you know! I want to be strong, smart, and powerful, so someone like that man can never hurt me again! Please teach me!"

My sister and I were both silent as she spoke. We stared at her, this little broken warlock girl that we had nursed back to health, who was asking us to teach her what we knew, because she wanted to be stronger. Myself, I didn't want her to start training. I wasn't against the prospect of having a pupil or that a woman shouldn't fight, that would make me a hypocrite, but the way her eyes flashed, the anger, the lust for revenge that was tainting her eyes, it worried me. If the decision had been up to me, I would have had her heal mentally and emotionally before beginning to physically train. I turned to Helena, knowing it was her decision to make, as she was the one who brought her into the kingdom. She remained silent for some time, just staring at Kiara. The girl, in turn, stared back, her gaze defiant and set, stubborn.

"Very well," Helena finally answered, a wicked amusement just barely tainting her voice. "Starting tomorrow, we will begin teaching you all we know. From magic, to history, to combat, and language, you will learn all we know and more." The warlock smiled widely, looking over to me excitedly, jumping up and down. I smiled back, but inside I was worried for events to come.

That night, we all were in the library together, and I finally asked the girl again for her name. It had been dark, winter, and the fire had been roaring. All three of us were sitting on the couch, Helena reading through important documents while I read along with the girl, and assisted her when she had trouble with certain words. Gently, I placed my hand over the page, obscuring her vision of the words and causing her to look up at me.

"What is your name, child?" I asked her gently. She looked up at me, her eyes confused.

"I have said before in the infirmary, Lady Hannah," she said softly, glancing back at the book in her lap. "I no longer have a name. Or, I did, until I was taken."

"Do you wish for the same name? The one that you were before your ordeal in the cage?" Helena asked curiously, still foraging through her papers. The child shrugged her shoulders, unsure, attention still on the book in her lap.

"I am not the same as before, but I liked my name." I could see that she was trying to change the subject, but I wasn't going to allow it this time. Gently but quickly, I reached over and plucked the book off of the girl's lap, while Helena placed her papers aside to take her hands.

"What was your name, my child?" Helena asked, holding the girl's hand softly. The girl looked up at Helena, her eyes confused. However, my sister just looked at her, her eyes unnaturally, purely warm. This shocked me, as my sister was not one to feel emotions that displayed warmth and care, but it was there and evident to me. The girl relaxed into her side.

"Kiara," the girl replied. Helena and I both nodded in approval.

"It is a very pretty name," I said kindly. "And it describes you perfectly." The girl's eyebrows raised high on her forehead.

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"Kiara has a number of meanings in a number of languages," Helena explained. "In Italian, pronounced Chiara, the name means 'bright'. You seem to have a bright personality buried under all that suffering." The girl looked down, a small, shy smile playing upon her lips. It made my heart melt.

"In Irish," I continued in Helena's stead, "it is pronounced Ciara, which means 'dark-haired'." The girl giggled a bit at that, playing with the strands of her hair as it dangled in front of her face.

"And then there is the Indian definition of that name," Helena said quietly.

"What does it mean there?" the girl asked curiously. Helena and I both smiled at each other.

"It means 'God's gracious gift'," I replied. She looked perplexed at this.

"I'm not special," the girl responded. "I am a demon's bastard. The truest definition. How can I be a gift of God if I am damned?" Helena seemed to lose interest a bit at this point, and turned back to her work briefly, so I decided to continue.

"No one with a soul is damned until they make themselves damned," I told the girl quietly, placing a gentle arm around her. "Any Downworlder has a chance at salvation, as long as their soul is good. That includes you."

"But why should I take a name of who I used to be?" the girl asked, confused and somewhat sad. "Kiara was who I used to be. She was happy, energetic, childish, naïve about the cruelty of the world…I'm not that girl anymore."

"You have just grown," Helena said, not looking up from her papers but sounding genuine in her response. "You have not changed, really. How you think has changed, but you are still that person."

The young warlock seemed to ponder this. She cast her eyes to her feet, which she kicked out as she thought. For a few minutes, all of us sat in silence, my sister reading through her papers, though glancing at the girl out of the corner of her eyes, while I watched the girl carefully as she pondered. Then, her head snapped up, her eyes set.

"Then I guess that settles it," the girl said suddenly, standing up and turning to face us proudly. "I am Kiara. That is my name, and that is my identity. And I shall live to have a good soul and be strong." Helena and I smiled at that. Then, we took her to her room, for it was late.

As she curled up in her covers, each of us placed a kiss on her head. I began to leave the room, but Helena remained by Kiara's bedside longer. I waited at the door, as I usually did.

"Helena," I heard Kiara's voice say quietly.

"Yes, child?" my sister asked quietly, stroking Kiara's head softly.

"You remind me of my mom," Kiara said, slurring as sleep overtook her. Helena seemed to tense a bit when she said that. She was turned away, and I could not see her face.

"Then if you desire, I shall be your new mother," Helena said softly, her voice tender. "And you shall be my daughter." I saw Kiara smile happily as she drifted to sleep. Quietly, I heard her say one last thing to Helena before sleep overtook her.

"I love you, mom," she said in a whisper. Then, her breathing became even, deep, slow breaths that signified she was asleep. Helena remained sitting there for another few minutes, until I finally strolled forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at me, and I saw her eyes were glistening, something that never happened.

"Is something the matter?" I asked, speaking to her as my sister rather than the queen. She gave me a small smile, one full of strange love and tenderness that was foreign on her face.

"I never thought I would have a child," Helena said, and I nodded in understanding. As Queen, Helena vowed to never marry, and therefore, never have children, for they would interfere with her work as queen. I had promised to do this with her, as I did not want my sister to be alone in her struggle and loneliness. But now…now a dream of hers finally came true. She had a daughter.

"You shall be a wonderful mother to her, Helena," I told her. She stood from her chair, and, placing one last gentle kiss on Kiara's forehead. Then, she and I walked out of the room together, as sisters rather than the queen and her right guard.

The next morning, Kiara was up bright and early, excitedly shoving food into her mouth at the buffet table. As my sister and I ate our fill, she sat impatiently, asking after every bite if we were finished. After ten more minutes of this, we decided to finish. When we gave her the answer she wanted to hear, she literally squealed in joy and dragged us to the training room. The strength of her grip shocked me. I suppose it was from the adrenaline that resulted due to her excitement. Soon we made our way into the training room. Helena took over from then.

"Step onto the mat," she told Kiara, who obliged excitedly. I was worried, recognizing the fierce calculating gaze in my sister's eyes. Helena then snapped her fingers, summoning boxes of weapons ranging from small throwing stars to huge double hand swords.

"Choose a weapon," Helena ordered. Kiara excitedly looked through the boxes before choosing a pair of duel swords. The moment Kiara selected them and Helena put the boxes away, Kiara was attacked. In a matter of moments, Kiara was pinned to the ground, her swords now in Helena's hands, one pressed to her throat and the other with the tip set on her heart. Kiara looked up at Helena in fear, and I nearly drew my weapons to protect her.

"That is how easily an opponent can take advantage of you," Helena said harshly, all kindness and affection from the previous night gone. All of that was replaced by fierce brutality and cold viciousness. I could see Kiara shaking in true fear as Helena continued to keep her pinned. My heart screamed to go over and comfort the girl, but I knew that this was necessary if she wanted to learn to fight.

"If you want to learn to fight, you must be prepared to die at any moment, because you can die at any moment," she continued. "We shall mold your body into a weapon, one that can survive any attack, ordeal, and carry out any objective. That is a warrior. A living weapon that can survive anything, and will fight until there is nothing left in them."

"Helena," I remember I muttered quietly, wishing she didn't speak so harshly to the girl just yet. However, Kiara just began to struggle against my sister, gripping the blades with her bare hands and using all of her strength, pushed it off her neck. Her palms and fingers were marred and bloody, but she looked on with pride, ignoring the pain. Helena looked down at Kiara with pride as well. There was something sinister mixed in with it, though, but I ignored it. It was then that Helena got off Kiara, and the other girl stood up immediately. Helena then dropped Kiara's sword between them, the hilt facing Kiara. Kiara then picked up her fallen sword, and charged Helena again. That was the first day of her training.

Weeks past, and Kiara continued to work on her training and education. Except now, whenever she spoke to Helena, she called her mother, which Helena did not protest. She treated Kiara as a daughter, teaching, correcting, and pestering more than any person did. I could see that Kiara loved her most, and not that I minded. I, on the other hand, became known as Aunt Hannah. Rather than worry often, I spoiled Kiara, bringing her new books on magic and new weapons for her to train. Helena often reprimanded me for this, saying a daughter must not be spoiled in order to keep her in line, but I always gave her gifts.

During those years, Kiara also opened up further about her past. She told us of her mother, Anastasia, and how much she loved Kiara. She told stories of her first adventures around the world, in search of her brother. Her adventures often excited her, causing her eyes to blaze in excitement as she spoke. Helena and I smiled as she spoke so happily, acting out certain parts of her favorite memories, causing us to laugh.

"Kiara," Helena said one day. Kiara ceased her story-telling at the moment, where she was acting out slaying a demon using a pillow and her quill as her weapon.

"Yes mother?" Kiara asked curiously. "Is something the matter? Am I in trouble?"

"Nothing that we know of has caused you to be in trouble," Helena said, eyeing Kiara for signs of worry or secrecy; there was none. "Please, sit."

Kiara moved between Helena and myself on the couch. Helena gently placed an arm around Kiara's shoulders, and Kiara responded by leaning towards Helena's embrace. I, on the other hand, took Kiara's other hand, stroking the back of it with my thumb comfortingly. I did not know what Helena was going to ask, but she looked somewhat weary, or worrisome about something, and I would be there for Kiara if it was something sad. The fire blazed, and the sound of the fire was only sound heard.

"What is it, mother?" Kiara asked quietly. Helena remained silent for a moment longer, staring at the fire. Then, she took a deep breath, and turned back towards us. She looked at Kiara intently.

"What happened to your brother?" she asked. Kiara's eyes darkened. Whenever she told her stories of finding her brother, she never said anything about actually finding him. She avoided the topic, as if trying to forget it. However, today, to our surprise, it was different.

"He was the one who gave me to that man," Kiara said angrily. "After I found him, he hated me. Always hiding me or trying to make me go away. Therefore, one day I decided to take a job, to show him I wasn't worthless. I was successful, but on my way home, I was kidnapped. After some time, that man said my brother had paid him handsomely to get rid of me. He said I was referred to as a pest."

My eyes widened at the story. Anger had boiled in my system, and I wanted to hunt down that horrible demon spawn and teach him a lesson. Helena, however, looked unfazed by the story, with an unreadable expression.

"Is that why you want to be strong?" she asked. "Because you want to take your revenge on him?"

"No," Kiara responded immediately, to our shock. "I don't want to take my revenge on him. I never want to see him again, dead or alive. Let him think I am dead. I do not need him anyways. He is dead to me now." Helena seemed to approve of this way of thinking. I, on the other hand, was not so accepting, but kept it to myself.

"There is something else we must talk about, Kiara," Helena said. "You can no longer continue training—"

"WHAT?!" Kiara exclaimed, jumping off the couch, her feline eyes slit in anger. "Why not?"

"Let me finish," Helena said, more forcefully than necessary in my opinion. Kiara silenced and stilled immediately. "You cannot continue training with us, for we have taught you all that we can without revealing our people's secrets. The only way for you to continue your training is if you join us."

"Very well," was Kiara's immediate answer. "I'll be a werecat. What do I have to do, pass a series of trials?"

"Are you sure?" I asked, anxious about how quickly she agreed. "Being a werecat is no easy feat. You will not be able to leave the city unless there is dire need of it. For eternity, you shall live in the shadows, invisible to the world, unknown to any, no one will know of your deeds. Are you sure you want that?"

"As long as I have my mom and my Aunt Hannah I'll be fine," Kiara responded with a smile.

The next day, we held Kiara's Turning ceremony. In front of the kingdom, Kiara drank the blood of our queen, which accepted hers. She transformed for the first time in the eyes of the people, who welcomed her in celebration. I remember, as I looked her with that black stripped skin, tail and claws, I had never felt happier or more proud in my life. My sister, however, had this strange look on her face, which remained for years to come.

For the next thirty years, Kiara continued to train daily, and we taught her everything we knew. Since the first day she was turned, she was a prodigy. Fast reflexes, graceful cat-like agility, no pun intended, incredible adaptation skills. I'll never forget, on her first day of training after her ceremony, she literally blasted apart her training dummy in one punch. It took us a while to calm her down and get her strength under control, but she learned fast.

She was also taught everything we could teach her. Her thirst for knowledge was unquenchable; she was voracious for knowledge of any kind. Many times, I found her in the library in the early hours of the morning, combing through ancient lost texts or language books. Magic was one of her favorite subjects to learn. Every time she mastered a new spell, her eyes would light up with joy and pride. In fact, she kept a journal on the spells she mastered, another for the ones she was working on, and a third for ones that she still wanted to learn. Actually, she had a journal series like that for every subject she learned. Still does. However, that's beside the point.

Then, after those thirty years, Kiara was appointed to the elite guard of Krymméno Florr. She was the youngest werecat in history and the fastest to rise to the high guard. The entire kingdom celebrated gloriously. She had earned quite the reputation since her Turning ceremony all those years ago. With her strength, kindness towards other, and devotion to protecting her people, she had earned the title "Humble Goddess."

That night after her celebratory dinner, Helena's true nature was revealed to Kiara. Helena's sadistic, cruel, psychotic ideals and morals, for what they truly were. She finally cast off the mask that she had worn for so long for her people, revealing her true self to Kiara. I remember the exact moment when her heart broke upon gazing upon who my sister truly was.

"Where are we going, mother?" she had asked moments earlier, as Helena and I led her through the deepest, darkest parts of the castle.

"Somewhere only the High Guards are permitted to go," Helena responded. I remember Helena gave me a pointed glare, forcing me to remain silent. I felt my insides turn in apprehension and guilt as Helena made the wall before us vanish. It was at that moment, gazing into the new room, that Kiara's world crumbled.

For decades, before she discovered Kiara, Helena had been conducting illegal experiments on our people. She stole infants from hospitals and homes, making it appear as though they died in the hospital or due to some sort of demon attack. Then, she became bored with just infants, moving on to adults, adolescents, and elderly. Then she took it a step further, stealing Downworlders, Shadowhunters, and mundanes from the world and conducting experiments on them. She kept all of it a secret, and made me swear to never tell. I only learned about the experiments a year before Kiara did. I wanted to stop Helena every day since I learned of her activities, but each time I thought of it I remembered the vow I made the day that my sister became queen. It was to never question or betray her. I could not bring myself to harm my elder sister, so I lived with the guilt for years. I regretted it every day, and I'll never forget how Kiara looked when Helena revealed herself.

The girl looked as though she was going to be sick and have a panic attack simultaneously. As she walked through the dozens, nearly hundreds of cages my sister had, she grew more and more horrified. I remember she knelt down to peer into one particular cage, one that held a small boy, who was scarred all over his body, all flesh and bones, and had long claws protruding from the nails on his fingers and toes. Kiara gently reaching in, but the boy backed away as if she meant to strike him. The look on Kiara's face, the horror, sadness and anger was unlike anything I had ever seen. Without a word to Helena or me, she ran out of the room. Neither of us saw or heard from her until the next day.

It wasn't until after Kiara ran away and came back later that day that I began to feel something was amiss with her. She was much more reclusive, shutting herself in her room except to train and for meals. Often times she would not look at either Helena or myself, but when she did it was fast, and with eyes full of pain, confusion, and anger. Helena only attempted to speak with her once, telling Kiara that since she was now member of the High Guard, she was sworn to secrecy, and that to tell anyone meant punishment by death, even to her own daughter. She said these things with no empathy, no concern, no sense of warning or urgency. She spoke to Kiara as a drill sergeant would in the army, with firm, terrifying authority that you never wanted to cross. Kiara remained silent, not even acknowledging what her adoptive mother had said. I, on the other hand, tried to speak with her on multiple occasions, but each time was a failure, as she would finish what she was doing quickly and excuse herself to her room.

One night, about a week later, I was going to get a midnight snack when I saw light coming from Kiara's cracked door. When I looked inside, I was shocked by what I saw.

Kiara's bed and the floor around it was littered in papers, maps, open books, floorings and calculations. The room's inhabitant was sitting on her pillows, dressed in battle gear, writing down something at light speed, before tearing it up and blasting it with magic fire. Then, she grabbed one of the hundreds of books lying around and began paging through.

It took me a few moments to regain my composure. That was when I finally made my presence known, clearing my throat loudly. Kiara didn't even look up.

"I knew you were there," she said as she tore through another book at lightning speed. "You weren't exactly subtle."

"What's all this?" I asked her, carefully making my way to her bed, trying not to step on the books and research.

"I'm going to take out that prison," Kiara said, her eyes blazing with anger and determination. "What Helena is doing is wrong. More than wrong, it's sadistic. It's as bad as what I went through those centuries back, maybe worse. It has to stop. I'm not going to sit back and let her do this to innocent children and Downworlders who have nothing to do with us. She may be queen, and my mother, but that doesn't justify her actions."

"Kiara," I spoke softly. "You wish to take on the queen and an entire kingdom on your own? Even with your strength and skill, you can't beat those odds."

"I don't plan to do it alone," she replied, grabbing a pile of papers from the floor and leafing through them, scattering them in all directions. "I'm going to tell the people what the truth is. I'm going to get their help, because they need to know what Helena is doing to them. She's lying and killing their children, keeping them in her control by using fear, oppression, and lies rather than true loyalty, honesty, and care. That's not how a queen should earn the respect of her people. It needs to be earned, not stolen."

"Most may not follow you, Kiara," I explained carefully, not wanting to rouse her anger further. "They respect Helena; she has been queen for centuries. You can't expect that trust to vanish instantaneously." Kiara finally placed down her papers and looked at me. Her face was set, certain and unmoving. Gold-green cat eyes blazed with fire, but there were also tears swimming in them.

"When I first asked you to train me, I said I wanted to be strong," Kiara replied, her voice shaking a bit as she held back tears. "I want to be strong so I can protect those I love, those who are weaker than me, so they don't have to suffer the atrocities that I did. I'll be damned, well more damned, if I allow myself to hide in the shadows and not try to stop this."

Then, she turned back to her research, mapping out key locations and routes. I watched her, mentally debating what to do. However, I knew my answer before I even asked Kiara what she was doing. Going over her plans, I spotted something.

"If you enter there you'll end up at a dead end," I said, pointing to an area circled on her map. For the rest of the night, she and I plotted and planned out every single scenario and route to break out the kids and destroy the lab.

The next day, I went with Kiara into the queendom, unsure of what she was planning. To my surprise, she had already begun organizing secret meetings and rallies to spread word of Helena's true nature. And to my further surprise, far more people came to the meetings than I thought would. And they believed her.

"Demons haven't come into this land for hundreds of years, how would they be able to kill your children?" Kiara asked them one day. She was speaking to a crowd of nearly five hundred people. "Helena has been stealing your children and families for her own experimentations! I have the proof!"

At that moment, she would pull out documents she swiped from Helena's lab, or project images of the cages for all to see. With each secret rally, our numbers grew, until nearly half of the nation sided with us. Then, we prepared to attack. It took us nearly another month of preparations, but soon we were ready, and we attacked.

Kiara led the raid, opening Portals in the castle for our soldiers to get through. Hundreds of warriors took on the High Guard ranks that Helena ordered to attack, while the rest of us made our way to the hidden room and freed the imprisoned. When all of them were freed, Kiara broke away from the rest of the group, ordering them to get to safety. I refused to leave, and followed Kiara. I still did not know about the rest of her plan.

"What are you doing?" I asked her, pushing my way through the not destroyed halls, trying to catch up to her.

"I am going to make sure Helena will never do this again," she answered back, mercilessly cutting down two High Guards who attempted to kill her. "She can't be allowed to do this again. Ever."

"You mean to kill her, don't you?" I asked quietly. Kiara finally stopped, her posture stiffened terribly, and her breath hitched. She stood there frozen in shock, and the rest of the world seemed to freeze as well.

"Yes," she answered in a quiet, tiny voice. It was then that she turned to face me. Her eyes were filled with tears and her lip trembled as she attempted to keep a straight face. The weapons in her hands trembled, and her knees shook. Blood, dirt, and scratches covered her face, and her armor was in tatters. In the middle of that destruction and chaos, I finally saw the scared, broken girl Helena and I rescued centuries earlier. Before I could stop myself, I took her into my arms and held her close.

"Let me fight her," I begged, my own voice trembling and tears in my own eyes. "I should have done it when I first learned about what she was doing. If you fight here, she will kill you."

"No, Hannah," she said back, her own voice trembling. "I am going to do this."

"What will that prove?" I asked, desperate to dissuade her. "She taught you everything you know. She knows everything you do, and more."

"Hannah," she interrupted me. "I asked her to train with the hopes that I would become strong enough to stop evil people like the man who captured me. Helena is the type of person I swore to destroy. If I don't do this, I will never forgive myself."

I knew there was no point in arguing with her. She was too stubborn. So instead, I waved my hand, making a small glass bottle appear in my hand. Inside, a glowing silver mixture bubbled and sloshed around. I then gave it to her.

"To give you a chance," I said. She did not say anything, just took the bottle and chugged it down. Then, we ran to the throne room.

We arrived to see Helena leisurely seated on her throne, gazing out the window in boredom.

"So, you show your face, daughter," she said, her voice colder than the Arctic Sea. "I assume you are here to kill me?"

"You are correct," Kiara said, raising her fans. "I challenge you for your crown."

"I refuse," Helena said. "You know that this is pointless. I could easily kill you. You are much more useful to me alive than dead."

"I don't care," Kiara replied, anger filling the room. "I refuse to allow you to continue what you are doing! You're no better than the man who kidnapped me!"

"I am much better than he was," Helena argued. "That man did what he did because he was insane. I am doing what I am doing in order to advance our race."

"By kidnapping and murdering children?" Kiara screamed, her voice shaking the chamber.

"Survival of the fittest," Helena responded nonchalantly.

"If that is how you view your people, then you shouldn't have the crown," Kiara said, before charging Helena. However, before she could get to her, she ran into something, stopping her dead.

"Take down your wards!" Kiara demanded, banging her fists on the invisible walls. "Fight me! I challenge you for the crown!"

"And what happens if you win?" Helena asked, looking amused.

"You die, and I take over the werecats," Kiara said. "I'll be a better queen than you ever were!"

"You sound like a child," Helena said. "Come now, daughter, how could you break your mother's heart this way?"

"You are NOT my mother!" Kiara screamed, this time, shaking the room more than ever before. Suddenly, a force of magic surged forth, smashing through the wards, blasting Helena from her throne. I was forced back, and shielded my eyes from the falling debris. When the shaking ceased, I looked back to Kiara in shock and awe.

Every werecat has a transformation technique specific to themselves. Some can alter certain parts of their body, others can transform into large cats at will. Then there are the special few who attain the highest gift the angel Michael bestowed upon our first queen, Veronica. A select few in history have mastered it, and at the time, Helena was the only one in the land who had the gift. We call it the Angelic Demon form. Odd name, but we could not think of anything else to call it.

The form of which I speak combines the magic of the heavens and hell to strengthen the warrior. The feline attributes we acquire are enhanced beyong anything ever seen. Claws are made of metal rather than natural material. The fangs that appear coats in a poisonous venom that will melt stone. Stripes form on the epidermis, covering the body much like Shadowhunter runes. A symbol of the angel's power. Even the armor you wear alters itself, made to be stronger by the magic combining. Your senses are enhanced dramatically, your speed increased to impossible standards, and your strength becomes unparalleled. It is the ultimate battle form.

And Kiara had just activated it for the first time.

A moment later, Helena leapt out from behind the ruble, her own form activated, and clashed her claws against Kiara's fans. Her fangs were inches from Kiara's face. Her face was marred by a look of sinister delight, combined with bloodlust, anger, and monstrous cruelty.

"Very well, daughter," she said mockingly.

I cannot describe to you what the battle was like, it was something you had to see for yourself. I remained out of it, too stunned and petrified to intervene. If I had, I am sure I would have been slaughtered immediately. But it went on for eternity, until finally, Kiara stood above a beaten Helena. Both of them were bloody, bleeding, and battered, breathing hard and struggling to retain their forms.

I forgot to mention something earlier. There is a reason as to why the Angelic Demon form is so rare. The power is unparalleled, but it comes with a price. The combination of heavenly and demonic magic within the person results in enormous strain on the warrior. It is not only physical strain, but mental and emotional. The demonic and heavenly magic fight for dominance, altering the warriors emotions and thoughts as they fight for control. The longer one remains in the form, the more conflicted and painful it is. And being Kiara's first time in the form, I could see the conflicting emotions and thoughts rushing across her face, along with the immense pain she was in. Even so, I could do nothing but watch.

Kiara stood above Helena, her dagger inches from my sister's throat. Helena looked up at her so called daughter, pure hatred in her eyes.

"Do it," she ordered. "Kill me. Isn't that what you came here to do?"

Kiara jerked her arm down, but stopped centimeters from Helena's Adam's Apple. Her hair covered her eyes, and her hand shook. Then, suddenly, she stood up, and tossed her dagger aside. The stripes on her arms receded, her hair became tamed, and her claws retracted.

"No, I will not," Kiara said. "I owe you my life. I have never repaid that debt. Sparing your life will fulfill it."

"So you are letting me go?"

"Helena," Kiara began in a regal tone that I had never heard before. "For your betrayal to your people and your queendom, you are hereby exiled from our kind. You may never set foot in Krymméno Floor, or any werecat lands, for the rest of your days. Any contacts you know of the werecats shall be notified that you are no longer welcome to their services. If you are seen by any cat or any ally of our kind, you shall be slayed on sight. This is my one act of mercy. Leave this city at once."

Helena glared at Kiara, her eyes dancing with cruel amusement and anger. Slowly, she stood to her feet, and gave the new queen a mocking bow. She then turned and limped towards the doorway. However, before she walked through, she turned back to Kiara, her gaze cruel.

"I shall return, my precious daughter." She spat the name like it was acid. "And when I do, I shall not show you mercy. You and all you love shall suffer." Then, she disappeared.

As the now dethroned queen walked away, despite all the atrocities she had done, I saw tears in our new queen's eyes. Nevertheless, despite her tears, Kiara stood tall, and ascended the stairs, sitting on the throne with elegance and grace. All I thought as I looked at her, beaten and ratty from combat, was that a queen who weeps for their enemies is a queen who could save our people from destruction. I have believed that ever since.


All eyes were still glued to Lady Hannah as she finished her story. No one was even breathing, the only sound as her voice quieted was the fireplace. For a few minutes, everyone remained silent, in shock at the story or form trying to process what they had just heard. Finally, Jace let out a low whistle.

"Wow," he said. "And I thought we had it tough."

"How did you guys come back from that?" Izzy asked in awe. "I mean, there must have been so much damage?"

"Oh, it was hard at first," Lady Hannah replied. "Many left to join Helena. Most, I suspect, did it out of fear, although a number of them did believe what she was doing was right. Those who remained were elders and newer members, so basically no one suitable for an army. But Kiara didn't dwell on it."

"What did you guys do? I mean, half the kingdom was destroyed. There must have been a lot of homeless."

"Kiara's first decree was to open the palace doors to the people of the kingdom, any and all that needed help," Hannah replied. "In no generation has our queen allowed anyone less than nobles or guards into the palace. They ended up staying in the palace for years."

"Why did you decide to stay with Kiara instead of Helena?" Simon asked, causing all eyes to turn to him in dumbfounded shock. "I mean, I know Helena was basically evil, but she was also your sister and you said you swore an oath of loyalty to her. You don't seem like the type of person who would break an oath like that except for a really good reason. What made you so sure that Kiara would be a better ruler than Helena? That she wouldn't turn into her?"

Lady Hannah cast her eyes to Kiara, as if trying to convey the correct answer to Simon's question. The rest, at the moment, were stilled glued to Lady Hannah. All eyes but Kiara's. She remained in the same position the entire time, arms wrapped around her knees, staring into the bright flames of the fire. Even now, she looked like a portrait come to life. Alyssa was still at her side, but had squeezed onto the seat, one arm wrapped lovingly and protectively around her lover.

"Because as she struggled to remain upright in the throne room, clothes tattered and skin bleeding, she stood tall with strength, dignity, and grace. I looked at this girl, who was once so broken she wished for death, and knew she was no longer that broken child. She had grown into a strong woman. As she first sat on the throne, I thought to myself, this one cries for her enemies, this one cries over the suffering of those she has never met, this woman is a leader. She is the one I will gladly follow. She is the one that I will gladly call my queen."

All eyes turned to Kiara, turning to look at her. She still sat there, curled up in her chair, except now she had her eyes closed and her breathing was deep and even, fast asleep. Alyssa had slipped out of the chair and was sitting on the ground at her feet, staring up at her wife with tired eyes that were slowly being covered by heavy eyelids. And all of them thought, that no matter the cost, they were going to help this girl free her people.


Phew! That was a long one! What did you guys think? Let me know. The next chapter is all finished as well, including a bonus section. I'll publish those in a few hours. Literally. A few hours. Please comment and tell me what you think!

Love KiaraBaneTMI