Ana retreated to a reclusive life despite her youth for several reasons.

One of which stared her in the face, stark black words on white paper, marked up with red in her tiny script. Unreasonable demands, too obvious loopholes, criminally rude attempts to undersell their company's resources and worth—this wasn't even one of the worst contracts that passed through her hands. Except, they'd have to consort to work with them due to old connections at the Tokudaiji's Clan Elders insistence. Her maternal family's business made her loathe the idea of interacting with other people.

She capped her fountain pen and sighed. Even the soft jazz playing downstairs, Kol's choice, couldn't soothe her nerves.

Regardless of her close friends and broad range of acquaintances from her worldly travel, Ana believed, wholeheartedly, that she suited the life of a hermit in the mountains.

She never thought she'd prefer her work as an emissary over anything but she was starting to see the appeal of ghosts. Her paternal family's businesses never inspired anything close to this amount of exasperation.

Her phone rang, vibrating on the mahogany wood desk. She winced and glanced at the flashing screen—Tetsuo Tokudaiji. Her favourite and least favourite maternal cousin; it truly depended on the day and his behaviour. There were three outcomes of answering a call from him; a headache, laughter, or complete disbelief while being torn between the first two options. If she didn't answer, however…

Ana sighed and took her chances.

"Tetsuo," she said as she picked up the phone, immediately switching to Japanese. "Why are you calling? Don't give me more work or problems."

"How rude. Can't I just call?"

"No. Every single one of your calls gives me a headache."

"I wanted to know if you're coming home for the new year," he said. "Grandfather wants to see you."

"You're going to have to fight the gods about this one. They won't stop sending souls my way."

"Is that so?" he asked calmly. "It isn't because you're holding grudges?"

Ana paused, imagining the faux-neutral look on his face—one so alike and unlike her own. Their family often called them the two sides of the same coin but she disagreed. He was a true lion-hearted Tokudaiji, through and through; from his looks, demeanour, and talents. Bold, brave, and disgustingly moral. The Clan Elders favoured him as clan hair despite his blatant rejection of their values. He was the best and worst of them, all at once.

"Not this lecture again," she said. "And if I am?"

"You should learn forgiveness at some point in your life."

"Bold advice coming from someone unscathed," she said. "Worry more about yourself and keep the monk rhetoric there too."

He paused and sighed. "Sorry. What are you doing? How are you doing?"

"Doing the work of three people and I've been sent a soul. I don't even have time to visit restaurants to review them or blog."

"I guess the gods disagreed with your idea of taking a break," he mused. "Though, you've been getting significantly less than when you lived here."

"That's because they overelied on me there. Anyway, I have to finish translating communications with a Korean client and a French contract for Uncle Kiyoshi and there's negotiations."

"Good luck with that," Tetsuo said dryly. "I have to perform blessings and traverse a mountain."

"You're doing well? What about Auntie and Uncle? I know grandfather is doing well and Satoshi sent me three hundred photos of the ultrasound."

"My parents think I'll die single even though I'm in my early twenties," he groaned. "They're looking into arranged marriages."

"They're jealous that Uncle Kentaro has a grandchild on the way."

"What does that even have to do with me? They can adopt another child if they want a baby in the house. Gods know I can't take care of one right now."

"Well, that's what you get for having parents."

He paused. "Those jokes will never be funny."

"Then why are you smiling?"

He hung up before she could get another word in edgewise. Ana leaned back and laughed under her breath. She hoped she gave him as many headaches as he's given her.

"And what's so funny, darling?" Kol asked, pretending to lean against the closed door he phased through.

"Baby of the family things," she said after a pause, the English words rolling off her tongue. "Anyway, I'm finished with this. I'll just drop it off with my uncle's secretary and I have the potion recipe here. We'll confirm the extent of my powers here then go shopping in either Flushing or Chinatown in Manhattan.

"Does distance from your homeland affect the strength of your magic?" he asked curiously. "Some witches from New Orleans have the same affliction. They're reliant on borrowed strength and a pool of power that aids them."

"Nothing like that," she said. "I take into account the environment and natural interference. You can modify all rituals. It's similar to walking against the wind, it's simply easier to walk with it." She sighed and stretched. "This would be much easier on the west coast."

Kol leaned over her shoulder to read the document sitting on her desk. His brow furrowed and he scoffed, clearly uninterested in such measly human matters. "Now, why is that, darling?"

"More sources of information, more contacts. A much bigger Asian population that I'm familiar with." She stood up and headed downstairs. "Let's take a walk."

"The speed in which you walk pains me, darling," he said. "You couldn't have grown more throughout your youth?"

She blinked up at him. "When I resurrect you, I'll curse you to bump your head every time you pass through a door."

"You wound me," he proclaimed.

"The doors will. Not me."

The faint sun of high noon peeked out from a swathe of grey. A dim light, growing and fading all at once. Kol watched Ana with a rapt eye. She nestled deeper into her black turtleneck and puffy beige jacket. The humans of New York City continued to pass her by, not a single one casting a glance at her even if she crossed their paths while weaving through the crowds.

It was almost like a magic-induced reaction, one that surrounded her.

He had experienced the filthy subways, almost reminiscent of the English streets before the modern era, as they entered the heart of Manhattan. If he had been alive, Kol would have simply plucked Ana up and ran her across the water or Brooklyn Bridge or chauffeured her wherever she wished. He didn't understand how she could withstand any of it and had voiced such concerns.

"I've been through worse," Ana had said.

Any attempts to whittle an explanation out of her were adeptly avoided throughout their journey from her uncle's place of work and Lower Manhattan.

Now, he watched as she paused in the middle of the pavement, looking around at the crimson red and faded cadmium yellow buildings littered with green accents. The brick laid buildings were solid and crowded. Chinese characters splashed over the fabric awnings of businesses casting shadows over the sidewalk and doors. Large vertical neon signs mounted to the buildings covered nearly every inch of space overhead. Some offered translations, most did not.

People crowded the walkways, uncomfortably so, and yet, Ana had never looked more at peace as she traversed through the Chinatown quarter of Lower Manhattan. Kol followed her to a side street, barely large enough to fit two cars in width. She ducked into a modern tea shop, something about bubbles. He looked around at the abominably adorable decor crammed into the small space.

This place could not offer what they're looking for.

And it was suspiciously empty.

There was a young girl, Rebekah's physical age, manning the counter. She looked innocent enough with her features hidden by a layer of bangs and round gold glasses.

Ana leaned against the counter and knocked against it twice. "I'll have an eight-pointed jasmine tea for Tao."

The girl straightened, startled—as if she hadn't even heard Ana enter. Her wide brown eyes slipped over Kol's guide. "Of course, ma'am."

She opened the tiny door separating the little kitchen from the rest of the tea shop. Ana passed by into the back and opened the black swinging door that led to another door. She pressed her hand against the slab of splintering wood and everything glowed a faint pink. The door opened to reveal a stairwell.

"Where are we headed?"

"Somewhere secret," she said.

If the girl hadn't acknowledged Ana's presence, he truly would've thought she was a mere spectre from the afterlife. She moved up the stairs like a shadow, soft footed and soundless. Blending into the dimly lit scenery as if she had walked through this place a thousand times before.

He shivered as he followed her up the stairs. A vast sea of layered voices rose up from the ground floor, chanting and echoing. Surrounding them entirely like an iron-fist. Eyes followed him like an angry hive of wasps, hot on his trail. The air iced against his skin.

And he couldn't breathe.

"Ana," he said, alarmed. He attempted to grab her even as his hands passed through her body. "We need to leave."

She stopped and turned to him. The black ocean waves of her hair framed her pale, unreadable face. Under the sickly lights, her tea-brown eyes looked obsidian. Her rosy-red lips dulled, pallid. The edges of her softened and she almost blurred. Everything else in the stairwell remained crystal clear as she became more obscure.

"Those are the eyes of the gods," she said. "They're watching."

Was this what it always felt like to her as an emissary? Did she feel the full brunt of this gasping panic it inspired in him? If so, he couldn't help but pity her; couldn't help but understand the acrid bitterness that infiltrated her voice—but not her face, never her face—the other day.

She continued up the stairs calmly, her black hair trailing behind her like a pennant of dread.

The air continued to suffocate him and he almost absconded until they reached the top floor. They stood before a carnelian-stained door, a faded gold Chinese character etched into the grain. A colourful mirror swung from a hook.

And it felt like he could breathe again.

"We're here," Ana said quietly.

It was a secret temple hidden deep within a corner of Chinatown, one deeply connected to her paternal family. They concealed themselves often throughout the years behind many businesses; the newest one was a bubble tea shop owned by a lovely woman who curated the menu herself. Ana placed her hand on the red door and waited.

A spark singed her hand as the magic on the other side recognised her. The hinges groaned as they swung open to reveal a wafting floral-sweet smoke, sticky and fragrant, underlined by the scent of ashes. Everyone within the temple stopped in their motions, eyes turning to her as she stepped through the threshold.

She looked around; she doubted they had a visitor in the last year.

Arnaud was the last one in New York, eight months ago, but he often deferred the supernatural responsibilities to the rest of them. He was the heir to an equally important empire, after all.

Greying light pierced through the ruby curtains over the window but the rest of the main room remained lit by the golden flame of candles, reflecting the garnet hue of the room. The main altar was carved out of fragrant rosewood and displayed a variety of incense holders, plates of fruit, candleholders, and gilded idols. It filled the centre as the monks and aids prayed around it.

A man with a strong jawline, fine moustache, and hard eyes remained at the head and led them in prayer. He wore a modest indigo robe and his sharp features remained clear as he kept his hair pulled back into a bun.

"Apologies for interrupting your prayer," Ana said. "You may continue."

"Who are we to make a divine emissary wait?" The man leading the prayer said. "Princess Anastasia Lau. Welcome to the Temple of the Sun. We are honoured by your visit."

"Priest Yeung Luk," she greeted. "Members of the Temple of the Sun."

Yeung Luk bowed. The monks and aides stood and followed his lead. "A pleasure to serve your family once more, Princess Anastasia."

She returned the bow with a slight dip at the waist. "Please refrain from using the title. I am no Princess."

"Ah, still filled with such modesty," Yeung Luk said as he dismissed his monks and aides to return to prayer with a wave of his hand. "The gods have chosen well."

"You'd be the first to think that."

He laughed lightly, honey-brown eyes shining in the dark room. Kol remained behind her, warily looking around. The gods' interference had truly unnerved him on their way up.

Yeung Luk sobered and looked behind her. "I can sense a soul following you, Miss Anastasia."

Her lips twitched at the familiar name and the indulgent tones it was often said in.

"A charge from the gods," she explained. "I'm here for information. Has your magic changed after leaving Asia for foreign soil?"

"No, not at all." He shook his head and thoughtfully glanced over her. "But, I am not blessed the same way as you."

"Nothing can ever be simple, can it?" She sighed. "I hoped you'd have all the answers like you did when I was a child."

"Considering the stories Thomas has told me, you have surpassed my capabilities long ago. I can no longer provide answers that you seek. I have nothing but assurance or confidence in your abilities."

Priest Yeung Luk had interacted with the Laus in his youth, and her uncles' youths, when he took residence in Taiwan, hunting demons and the remnants of earthly revelations. Her uncle Thomas, Arnaud's father, would've enjoyed spinning tall tales to tell anyone willing to listen to him. He did the same when it came to Arnaud's exploits in business.

"He's exaggerated, I'm sure," she said idly. "I'll perform a ritual to ascertain any possible changes. May you provide an aide and a warded room?"

"Of course," he said. "I will be your aid."

"Testing me?"

"I do wish to see the improvements you've made," he confessed. "My first true pupil."

"I was five," she said dryly.

"And a prodigy."

"That's debatable." Anastasia turned to Kol who had finally drifted back to her side. "Are you ready?"

He brightened; he truly loved magic. When she revived him, she'd attempt to find a magical discipline he could dedicate himself to. She understood that vampirism killed certain magical abilities but she knew quite a few "vampires" capable of… certain talents. They'd have to be lured out of their hiding places, of course.

Yeung Luk guided them through two side corridors until they reached a small room, emptied of all worldly materials outside of a small altar and incense holder. Ana knelt at the altar while the priest remained at the door.

She stared at the incense holder and Kol sat down beside her.

"What do we need?"

"Nothing," she said softly.

Her vision clouded over and a faint mist rose from the ground.

Kol's gaze flickered around but she ignored him.

The incense holder centred itself without prompting and the incense ashes flattened with a flick of her finger. She could hear a dull chanting ripple through the thin barrier between the worlds. A nebulous but unbreakable film. Ana set her hand on the table and a magic circle carved into the wood, fiery sparks appearing in its wake. The chanting grew louder, a hand pierced through her from behind, and she could feel the tendrils of magic wrapping around her.

She lifted her hand from the table.

Everything faded away and her vision returned to her.

"My powers are unaffected," she told Kol.

He frowned at her, brows furrowed. "Ana…"

Priest Yeung Luk stepped away from the door he protected. "Your powers have multiplied throughout the years but your control is unparalleled. I have never felt that much power contained into a single room without destroying it immediately."

"Yeah," she said faintly. "My tasks required it."

Yeung Luk and Kol watched her, different but the same; worried, as if a stranger inhabited her body. Her hands trembled—she hadn't done something similar in years. She had not reached out to the other plane no matter how many times the gods contacted her through the years. The distance between them remained steady and vast but the moment it sensed her return, it had pressed, reaching out insistently to meet her again…

She dusted herself off and smiled tremulously at her old mentor. "Thank you, again."

His eyes lingered on her, a hidden sorrow. "You have changed, my child."

"We all do," she said. "No one lives in this life and remains the same."

"No," he agreed. "We do not, but one as young as you… should not suffer so. It is a deep injustice I had not realised until I set my eyes upon this. Do your uncles and aunts know of this?"

"I was made an emissary," she told him. "But I chose the path of least suffering, regardless. Don't worry too much about me."

"Ah, but the previous generation will always worry. It is the damaged world we have handed to you. We cannot help but think it is our doing."

"That's life," she repeated.

That's life, that's life, that's life. If she repeated herself enough, maybe she'd accept it, too.

Kol took up what he deemed his spot at the kitchen island.

He watched Ana wade through her new task with all the grace of ocean water lapping at a beach shore. The faint curls in her hair bounced with each movement as she had pulled it up to reveal the creamy stretch of her neck and throat. Kol couldn't name a single vampire he knew that could deny themselves the possibility of such an indulgence.

She wore a soft floral apron tied around her tiny frame. Unlike her demeanour at the temple, she remained at ease and comfortable. Almost adorably so.

One would think the novelty of observing her would wane after a whole day but he doubted he'd ever tire of his little hard-won discoveries.

For someone who claimed to know so few people in the city, she blended into it without hesitation. Her movements through Chinatown suggested confidence, her demeanour easygoing, and her language remained soft—terribly sweet. Like she was with that monk. He hadn't understood a word spoken between her and those she interacted with as she hunted for the potion ingredients earlier but he had lived for a thousand years. He could read people from more than words alone, bodies too often telling more truths than mouths ever would. Whenever she stepped into a store, she engaged with the shopkeeper immediately. She inspired a slow relaxation and a quiet delight, through their shared mother tongues, conversing ever so politely and thoughtfully. She always overpaid in cash and accepted no change.

"What are you doing now?"

"Sacrificing my pho pot for this concoction." She winced at the thought but she hadn't wanted to buy another pot when she wasn't living in New York. "We brew dragon well tea for fourteen days, topping it off with blessed water everyday. We'll need to harvest fresh peony petals at the end of the week."

"If I remember correctly, it isn't peony season," he said.

"Greenhouses. This is an expensive potion," she said. "Grounded ginseng today, dragon blood incense ashes tomorrow, agarwood oil for two days, rosewood powder with the peony petals on the seventh, and a secret ingredient for the last three."

Kol noted each ingredient. "And what do they do?"

"They're all ingredients important to longevity and life," she said. "It was created in the rural mountains of Guangxi."

"Where are we getting the blessed water?"

"I'm blessing it."

Kol watched her fill the giant stock pot with water before she set it onto the gas top stove. He hid a smile as she stepped onto a stepstool to hover over the pot. It dropped when she slapped herself. It was a light smack but alarming, nonetheless.

"What are you doing?" he asked, reaching out as if he could stop her.

"Divine emissary tears can bless things," she explained as her eyes watered. Her nose reddened slightly as tears dripped down her chin. "It's easier than rituals."

She patted her face dry and set aside the stool. Her eyes remained slightly red along with her nose. A small red patch from where she hit her own face marred her smooth skin. He frowned and reached out to trace the edges of red.

"You shouldn't have done that," he said.

"It's too late," she said. "We're doing it for the next fourteen days. It needs to be blessed on the spot."

Kol understood it was required if he wished to return to the living.

For some unfeasible reason, he couldn't stand the idea of her getting hurt. She was a delicate little creature that deserved only softness.

Ana watched the water come to a boil as she dumped the tea leaves in.

This was an assassination to all good teas but this wasn't meant for consumption. She mourned the death of the brew, regardless. Her phone vibrated on the counter and she blew out a sigh.

Jasmine Yeung flashed across the screen.

She snatched the phone up and immediately answered it.

"Don't tell me you need rescuing," she said. Cantonese always left her mouth in a rapid fire, the language most comfortable in her mouth despite living in Japan throughout most of her life. It was a musical language in its own right. "You promised that I'd never have to do anything like beat a Ugandan blood diamond businessman in poker for your release ever again."

"I'm fine!" Jasmine whined. "I just wanted to say hi. Koji left me alone for a mission."

"Hi," she deadpanned and smiled slightly.

She could already imagine the pout of the other girl's pretty face softened by a pink flush. The bold features and undeniable beauty and constant change in expression. Jasmine had always let her emotions run free across her face.

"You're no fun, you know? I'm your best friend. You should be nicer to me because I just wanted to ask when you're coming back so we can have a girl's day."

She glanced at Kol before humming. "There's been delays. You know how family business goes."

"I can't believe you're still helping them out when the Clan Elders still run the show. You know I'd gouge their eyes out with my nails if you ask."

"That's why I don't ask," she murmured and stirred the pot. "Anyway, it's my uncle who asked. Not the Clan Elders."

"It's still benefiting those vile, detestable, black-hearted—"

"I appreciate that you own a thesaurus but you don't need to waste your breath. Anyway, brunch and mimosas when I get back?"

"No, no, no. It has to be a baking day."

"You just say that because you want me to bake for you."

"I'll be helpful! I'll bring you bubble tea," Jasmine said. She always spoke as if Ana could perceive her expressions over the phone. A puppy-dog begging was what she imagined now. "Actually, why don't we make it a whole day and do both? Midnight baking like old times."

"We only baked at that time after a night of clubbing and drinking."

"We can do that too."

"We are too old to get that drunk and we don't have Koji around," she winced. "I've dedicated myself to the boring life."

"Ugh," Jasmine scoffed.

"What happened to the new boyfriend? You can't pretend he's one of the girls for a day or two?"

"He was no fun," she said.

"...you need to stop dating absolutely insane men who lock you up in their villa so you can recalibrate your sense of fun."

"Don't call me out like that," Jasmine said. "I'm young and living my life. It's the time to make mistakes! Anyway, I met him on my own mission. He seemed hot, fun, and helpful."

"I hated him on sight," Ana said.

"You only met him after I said he kidnapped me."

"I would've hated him regardless. I can't believe you didn't notice the sacrifices."

"Well, I have a date tonight. I just wanted to make sure you remembered to call me when you come back so I can make sure you live your life and have fun."

"Good luck. You'll probably hypnotise him into giving you nine million dollars of real estate before the end of the night," Ana said. "...love you."

"Love you too," Jasmine chirped before she hung up.

"Who was that?" Kol snuck in behind her. "You're terribly popular today, darling."

"My best friend," she told him. "I always answer quickly in case she needs to be saved."

"Saved?" He raised a brow. "From what?"

"Her bad decisions."

He laughed. "Perhaps, darling, you should change your name to Saint Ana. I'm quite sure someone would award you with it after saving so many lives."

"Do you think it would come with a break?" she wondered. "I want paid time off."

"Oh, that'll be impossible," he crooned. "You're too integral. They'd work you to the bone."

"Thanks. I hate it."

He grinned and floated back into the parlour. Another animated movie played on the television screen, something Kol had complained about rather half-heartedly.

A hint of a smile crossed her lips; all remnants of souls guided stayed with their guides in some way. She never expected she'd be glad that Kol would live instead of pass on into true peace. Ana wouldn't have to keep the simple memory of him enjoying children's animated films and his favourite meal as a constant reminder.

Regardless, the newest recipe going up onto her blog would be lobster bisque, dirty rice, and a decadent cheesecake. She still had a life outside of the supernatural even if it had temporarily fallen back, neglected due to her duty.

check out my tumblr delicateseraphs! i'll be posting excerpts (chapter 4 and 5), answering any questions, and i've also created a character page for anastasia if you wished to learn more about her.

anyway, i just wanted to make sure you understood our main character a little more... so let's do it through a meme.

she's a ten but will ignore you for any cat in the room. she's an eight but will feed you and make fun of you at the same time. she's a ten but knows nothing about wine, absolutely classless in the matter.