A/N: Sorry the latest update took so long. I'm going through a bit of writer's block.
D.L.D
~~~~~Witch~~~~~
"Excuse me," Elizabeth's face filled with a light blush, her voice becoming timid as she approached yet another busy vendor. She brandished a paper with a neatly scrawled name upon it. "But can you tell me where this inn is?"
"Sorry, but I'm not too sure," The vendor smiled sheepishly, eyeing the black cat perched upon her shoulder. Minx bristled at the stare. "Try the next town over."
"Oh ok, thanks..." The young woman smiled shakily, sighing as her body felt as if it would deflate.
Once again, she had met someone of no help. Everyone so far had said to try the next town, to try and ask someone else. One look at Elizabeth and even the loudest and most rowdiest of people had become quiet and shaken within her presence. Many of them eyed the black cat upon her shoulder, staring at it warily; others had stared at her, her neck, and quivered when she looked them in the eye.
Peculiar, really. Were people really so distrusting in bigger settlements because of how often they were attacked? Or was it that they were just skeptical of travelers? Or was it because she was a mysterious, pretty woman?
Elizabeth truly didn't know. All she knew was that people were avoiding her like a plague, many of them telling her to leave town and to try the next one over. But Elizabeth already knew that she was in the right place, her mother having written the instructions down very clearly. The only unclear instruction was the location of the inn, her mother never being one to note directions to locations. She only ever used names.
"Do you know where- " Elizabeth cut herself off as a couple just walked past her, fast, avoiding eye contact. Their whispers were not unheard by her ears, low and paranoid, as they eyed the black cat on her shoulder and the odd colour of her hair.
"Do you think it's a witch?"
"Probably. The demon race and their servants are rife as of late."
Flooding red, Elizabeth's face betrayed the torrent of emotions racing beneath her skin. Frustration, outrage and helplessness all merged into one as she glanced at Minx and tried to withhold the tears she'd been wanting to release all afternoon. They bloomed under her skin as she approached yet another vendor and hoped that they would give her a real answer for once.
But she needed to retain her grip. She needed to appear cool and calm if she ever wanted to pass as the average human traveler. If she grew distressed, upset, then people would suspect her even more. They would guess that she really wasn't human.
Closing her eyes, Elizabeth squeezed her palms into fists and allowed herself to breathe. Instantly, she felt her face cooling down and her emotions returning to their normal ratio. Even the small dots of darkness that appeared had faded, leaving burning patches of skin behind.
Biting into her lip, the hybrid recited her usual mantra: 'I will not cry. I will not cry.'
After calming down, Elizabeth fixed her gaze upon the only vendor left. Right at the end of the vast and bustling road was a small stall dealing goods made of twisting metals and jewels. Each piece caught the rays of the afternoon sunlight, refracting small beams and rainbows onto the cobbled path and timber-framed walls. Occasionally, a brightly shaded gemstone would attract attention, the beautiful stone and its enchanting light contrasting the metallic sheen of the plain gold, silver and bronze.
However the owner of this particular stall was young and plain, having a face that suggested he was around Elizabeth's age - newly matured. If anything he looked like someone who inherited the craft, the stall, and did not take a personal interest in it.
That was a good sign: everyone else had been a superstitious older person. Someone aware of stereotypes and old legends.
"Excuse me," Elizabeth breathed, allowing her heart to cool and her darkness to still. Unconsciously, her hand rested over her purse, eyeing some of the metal creations. She was ready to bribe. "But do you know where the inn is?"
Once again, Elizabeth held up the parchment her mother had given her. On it was the name of a supposed inn in this town, Elizabeth's guide waiting for her there. Surely, she was extremely late. In fact, midday had past rather swiftly, the past hour ticking away like the rapid buzz of flies' wings.
There was only so long a person could wait for - especially for something as important as Elizabeth's quest - and therefore she had to hurry. If she did not get to the inn soon, then she would fail her quest before it even began. She would fail her task without even completing step one.
Once again, burning stabs at her eyes, urging her to cry, but Elizabeth holds it back. She will not got upset over something so trivial. Not today.
"No, it's not here!" A woman walking past yelled, toting a washing basket. Her dark hair was tightly coiled, matching with the tightly drawn corset she wore. "Try the next town over!"
Just as quickly as she interjected, the woman waddled away with her child, roughly yanking them along by the arm. The poor child's yelps of protest could be heard from the other end of the street, turning heads from all directions.
"That was odd..." Elizabeth frowned a little, trying once more to question the vendor. "But really, if you can- "
"Witch!" A middle-aged man runs up the stall, slamming his hands on the counter. Startling her, he forces Elizabeth to step backwards, wobbling due to Minx's extra weight. Forcefully, he invades her personal space, the stale scent of his breath wafting over her. "Stay back!"
"Witch?" Elizabeth frowned once more, staring at the man and then glancing down at Minx. Two golden eyes stared back, matching her glossy black fur. Definitively, they blinked.
Oh... Witch. They thought that Elizabeth was a witch. All because of Minx and her fur as dark as night. How funny!
"Oh no, this is just a stray!" Elizabeth laughs, gesturing to the animal upon her shoulder. Easily she strokes the feline's head, making sure to scratch her behind the ears. A fish biscuit is given in reward. "You see- "
"Tell it to someone gullible!" The man spat, slamming his hands on the counter once more. He narrows his eyes at the vendor. "If I were you, young man, I would not believe this harpy for a second. She'll steal your soul."
Storming away, the man then goes around to spread the news of the arrival of a witch. Some people react with horror, gasping and turning to look at Elizabeth before scurrying away; others smiled and waved at her, looking awestruck; and the select few, the younger population, just shrugged and got on with their day. They were the only ones who didn't really care. Elizabeth felt glad that the town was generously comprised of younger people. Unlike older generations, they were less skeptical of everything.
"You were looking for the inn?" The vendor raised a brow, looking rather annoyed. Eyes sparkling, he peered at Elizabeth, curiosity being the main feeling within him.
"Yes, I was," Elizabeth nods, clearing her throat a little. She lowers her voice, hoping to keep unwanted eavesdroppers and skeptics out. "Do you know where it is?"
Thudding in her chest, her heart races with excitement. Automatically, it causes her to grin without reason. It appears that she is one step closer to finding her independence, to completing her life purpose, and with that thought in mind nothing could dampen her mood.
"Just right up ahead, past the florist's," The vendor grinned, also lowering his voice. He then pointed to her neck, chuckling a little. "Although, just a tip, you might want to hide that mark on your neck."
"What mark?" Elizabeth blinked, her hands suddenly flying to her neck. Instantly, they felt the cool patch of darkness that had formed across it, prominent and distinct. It seems there was a gap in her guard.
Frowning, Elizabeth thanked the vendor once more and headed towards the building littered with pretty carnations and bouquets. Sweet, floral scents invade the young woman's nose, contrasting the constant knotting of her guts as she pondered on the predicament of her darkness.
Never before had Elizabeth encountered any problems with concealing her darkness. When she was growing up, concealing her other half had been effortless, easy. Sure, it bloomed sometimes, often taunting her and causing her spine to stiffen, but it never popped up unannounced. Never.
'I warned you,' Hissing in her ears, the darkness dances up her fingertips. 'You'll figure out the truth.'
'What truth?' Elizabeth questioned, narrowing her gaze as she clenched her fists. 'What truth is there to learn?'
Heavy chuckling fills her ears, rich and dark like a luxurious red wine, 'You'll see. You'll see...'
Grimacing, Elizabeth watched as the darkness retreated from her fingertips, revealing the pale, porcelain flesh beneath. However, not all of it left. No, oddly not all of her darkness retreated. Elizabeth had expected it to leave, to disappear as it always did, but the mark remained on her neck: searing, hot and fresh.
On instinct, her heart pound within her chest, racing with panic. This was not normal. Her darkness being so influential, so powerful, was not normal. Not at all.
Air expelled from Elizabeth's lungs. This was wrong. Very wrong.
Shaking, Elizabeth's hands clenched and unclenched before her, the female watching and waiting for them to suddenly sprout mass patches of seething darkness. Once. Twice. Three times. Nothing happened.
"Meow," As if sensing Elizabeth's distress, Minx rubbed her head against the female's neck. Languidly, she curled her tail around it, providing a warmth that contrasted with the unnatural coolness of the darkness.
At the contact, Elizabeth's eyes widened as her heartbeat slowed and her mind began to still. Everything snapped back to where it was, her dark, banished thoughts locking back into their forbidden box. She was now back on the street, the scent of flowers invading her nose and the whispers of the townspeople catching her ears.
Witch. Demon.
Biting her lip, Elizabeth's brows furrowed as she reached up to pet Minx once more. She should ignore it all: the people, her mind, her darkness. They didn't matter.
"Thank you," Elizabeth whispers softly, gently, glancing at the feline.
Gracefully, the cat's nose twitched in response. It was almost as if the feline was comforting her - reaching out to her - and Elizabeth felt her heart softening at the thought. Minx blinked once more, her tail brushing against the lobe of Elizabeth's ear: 'Don't worry about it'.
But even with the reassurance, the soft sensation of Minx's fur against her neck, Elizabeth couldn't help but worry. She couldn't help but worry about what else might happen, about what other problems she would encounter.
After all, it seemed that her darkness was right: she would never be rid of it.
~~~~~Witch~~~~~
As the vendor had said, the inn wasn't too far from the florist's. At first, the road insisted to keep the pungent scent of soft flora and herbs in the air. Gentle daisy and potent hydrangeas forcefully invaded the street, their aroma's calming at first but soon becoming overwhelming the longer they lingered.
Thankfully, the scent died down once Elizabeth had passed a couple of almost-identical buildings. Each one was modeled after cottages: small, simplistic, subtle. Stone patterning was replaced with light timber foundations and the heavy roofs of the previous structures had been swapped for light slate and thatching.
In all, despite being much larger than the cottages Elizabeth had seen in her lifetime, the hybrid could see the similarities to her village, note the inspiration. If anything, it was like being at home, like being back at the village.
But obviously, Elizabeth would not allow her mind to dwell on her home. Not now. She had to focus on completing her mission.
Following the gradually widening road, Elizabeth continued to travel further and further away from the grandeur of the town's centre. Once cobbled and well-maintained roads dulled into patted dirt roads with wild grass and flowers lining the sides; towering buildings shrunk into smaller and less significant and magnificent shows of grandeur; even the amount of people died down, only the odd person passing from time to time.
Yet, the sudden deterioration of the town was not what stunned Elizabeth. No, that wasn't what stunned her; it was how quickly it had happened, how quickly the circle of buildings had replaced the wide streets and bustling marketplace.
True to the vendor's word, the inn was just a hop, skip and a jump away from the flora-encroached building known as the florist's. It stood in a closed-off compound of buildings, hidden within the rural obscurity of the area.
Furthest to the right was a mid-sized building, boasting a hand-painted sign and baskets out front laden with shining apples and soft peaches. A group milled about the building, filling empty baskets with items and casually striking conversation with a man upon a cart.
Directly across from this first building was a thin thicket of trees and wild grass. Following that direction, the unpaved path hinted towards a stable or perhaps an even more remote location. As if confirming that idea, a mess of tracks and footprints littered the dirt. There was even a uniformed worker waiting obediently by the path.
Then finally, in the centre, stood the inn - Elizabeth's first destination.
Unlike the other building, the inn was built with size and scale in mind. White walls built up to at least two stories, lined with square slabs of light grey stone. Evenly spread along the walls were glittering glass windows, some of them small and latticed, but most being large and revealing the common rooms within. Dark grey tiles slated the roof, betraying the grandeur of the place and a few iron railings were fixed around the higher up windows and the roof - along with a single balcony.
For its location, the inn was rather grand and large, perhaps appealing to customers as a remote getaway, and Elizabeth could see why some may choose to go there. If she had a guess, this place was rather high-profile and was likely the old home of some posh lord or lady. It was too big, too luxurious, to suggest any other origin.
But then again, the world is always full of surprises.
Unusual for the time of day, loud cheering was erupting from the building, accompanied by the occasional thud. Mis-sung lyrics were ringing in the air, spiked with the light and bubbly tunes of drunkenness and headiness. There was also the occasional outcry from a woman, her voice rough and sharp as she threatened to kick people out.
"Is this really the right place?" Elizabeth frowned, studying the paper once more. There was no mistaking it: the name on the paper matched the gilded name on the sign out front.
Peering inside, Elizabeth spotted a scene that could only make her think of the beginnings of all those stories she'd been told. By the dozen, groups of oddly dressed people and weapon-bearing knights swarmed around tables, their faces giddy and merry with the lightness of warmth and good booze. Beside them lay glittering treasures, shimmering jewels and strings of opulent pearls making Elizabeth's mind spiral with endless strings of theories.
Heavily powdered and painted young women sashayed between the tables, proudly boasting trays of food and drink as they gracefully flitted above their customers' rabble. Spotting their uniform, a bright blush formed on Elizabeth's face as she imagined how it would feel to be so skimpily dressed. Surely, it would be difficult to maneuver in such a short skirt and tightly drawn corset.
Yet, the uniform also intrigued her, empowered her. It made Elizabeth think of how confident one would have to be to wear something so garish, so daring. Would people laugh? Do they care if people laugh?
Elizabeth could not truly say.
Following the ruckus within the building, Elizabeth frowned as she focused on the coquettish women littered between the rowdy men. One caught Elizabeth's gaze, her thickly eyelashed eyes blinking subtly before she frowned in return and continued on her way.
Immediately, Elizabeth peered up at Minx. Automatically, the cat peered back, already sensing what was surely about to follow.
"You'll have to stay low, Minx," Elizabeth whispered, allowing the cat to scamper down her arm and rest upon a barrel. Carefully, she set a few fish biscuits before the feline. "I'll be back soon."
Reluctantly, the female then left the feline and pushed open the front door. Immediately, she was greeted with the rowdiness of the rooms beyond.
"Name?" A man spoke, not even even bothering to peer up from his book, raising a brow. Sat upon his nose was a pair of glasses, matching with his rather formal attire of a shirt and waistcoat.
He appeared young, but not extremely young either. If Elizabeth had a guess, she'd say he was in his thirties, perhaps even late twenties, the lack of creases upon his forehead suggesting early age.
Nothing about him specifically stuck out, but Elizabeth did notice the strange mark upon his cheek.
"Elizabeth," The female uttered sheepishly, biting into her bottom lip. "My mother sent me here, so I'm not sure what she put me under."
"Ah, so you must be Lady Elizabeth!" The man looked up from his book, his glasses sliding down the tip of his nose. A pair of dark eyes pinned themselves to her, contrasting the calm demeanor of the man. "Your father wasn't lying when he revealed you looked just like your mother."
Sourness fills Elizabeth tongue, a terrible sensation settling into her stomach at those words: 'just like your mother.' She wasn't meant to be like her mother: perfect, ethereal and beautiful. Compared to her mother, Elizabeth was imperfect, clumsy and abysmal. To her, it was crime to compare herself to her mother.
But she would not let this demon know that. Not now.
"Let's agree to disagree," Elizabeth smiles sheepishly, anxiously toying with her hair. Already, she could feel sweat beading on her skin, prompting for her darkness to pop up and calm her down. To drown and black her conscience out. But that couldn't happen now. Not in this town that already suspects her of being a witch.
"Very well," The man hums, removing his glasses and neatly tucking them within his breast pocket. He regards her with a steeled, controlled look, his dark eyes unwavering. He holds out a hand, prompting her to shake it. "I want to informally welcome you home, Lady Elizabeth. Your family has been waiting for the day you would return."
Return? Elizabeth frowned, off put by this sudden welcome. She had never expected to be welcomed by her demon side, especially since she had been raised as a goddess by the leader of goddesses, but somehow she was. Somehow, her family wanted to welcome her back.
"Why?" Elizabeth's brows furrowed as she shook the man's hand. "Why couldn't you wait to say it?"
"Because your family is busy," A woman, who Elizabeth recognises as the girl from before, joins them. Her skimpy uniform was replaced with a simple dress, her powdered face also removed of all makeup. She grimaces at Elizabeth. "If anything, they have been affected the most by your birth and it has caused your father to fall into insanity."
"Jezebel..." The man shoots a warning glare towards the woman. "Stay out of it."
"Why not, Klaus?" The woman pouts, flicking her jet black hair over her shoulder. Her dark eyes critically study Elizabeth. "She deserves to know what she's done."
"Was it her or her mother who did that?" The man, Klaus, snaps, his calm voice raising as if challenging the rabble in the neighbouring rooms. Stiffening, his jaw tenses as he arches his brow, daring the woman to retort.
Jezebel falls silent, glowering at Klaus as she huffs and folds her arms across her chest. Klaus stares back in return, his knuckles straining against the spine of his book. Elizabeth is left in the middle, stunned and confused by the sudden battle between these two demons.
The tension is palpable, evident, as it hangs thick and heavy in the air. Elizabeth knows she is the cause of it, this discord, and she wishes more than anything that she could change it. She wishes more than anything that she could understand just what was going on.
But sadly, she couldn't. She couldn't know what happened to her demon family after her birth, just as much as she couldn't know what she did at the time. Everything from back then was a mixture of blurs and blanks, her few memories of the time being distorted like lost dreams.
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth speaks into the silence, her soft voice breaking it. She tries her best to seem remorseful, clasping her hands in a silent prayer to her mother. "I'm sorry for causing the mess that was left after my birth."
Both demons break out of their stare down at her apology, one bristling further and the other gaining a softened and remorseful expression.
"Don't apologise," Klaus sighs, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head. He captures her eyes once more, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "It's not your fault."
"Yes, it's her mother's," Jezebel mutters, clenching her fists. Her thickly lashed eyes connect with Elizabeth's, glowing with a hidden fury. "She probably taught the witch to say that as well."
Something unknown flickers within Klaus's features, the calm demon suddenly standing up from his seat and pushing his chair aside. Planting his hands on his desk, the demon then glared at Jezebel, pointing at her.
"That's it!" Klaus orders, his voice rising to a deafening boom. The mark on his cheek glows violet. "Out!"
"But-" Shock immediately clouds Jezebel's face, the female's jaw limp as she blinks at the man.
"Out!"
Dark eyes flicker to Elizabeth and immediately she feels the creeping shiver of a finger tracing her spine. Reacting to the adrenaline in her system, her darkness begins to bloom on her skin. It didn't like the way Jezebel was looking at it.
"Fine!" Jezebel hisses, anger brewing on her features. Darkness snakes around her palms as she storms out of the room, her boots clomping against the stone floor. In a matter of seconds, she's slamming the door and stomping her way along the path outside.
Still pounding in her chest, Elizabeth's heart refuses to calm after seeing the look upon Jezebel's face. If anything, it beats faster in her absence, fueling the darkness that spreads up her legs and curls up her arms.
"I apologise for Jezebel," Klaus sighs once more, his hand running through his hair again. Deep creases form beneath his eyes, betraying his weary state. "She's in a pretty bad mood today, so you'll have to excuse her."
"O-of course," Elizabeth nods, thickly swallowing the lump within her throat. Attempting to calm down, she takes another deep breath. "C-can you tell me more about my family? A-about why they might be upset?
"I'm not supposed to divulge that information for now," Klaus smiles apologetically, his dark eyes creasing behind his glasses. "However, your father wanted you to know that he wanted you just as much as your mother did. It was your mother who refused to share."
"And my father?" Elizabeth presses, biting into her lower lip. Her heart is still racing, but with an entirely different reason tied into it. "Is he waiting for me?"
At her words, Klaus' expression grows dark and grim, his lips setting into a firm line. He takes his time closing his book, marking the page with a bookmark and carefully stacking it onto the small pile of other books.
"He is no longer...living," Klaus stares at her with saddened eyes, fiddling with his waistcoat and the items upon his desk. He refuses to meet her eyes directly.
"No longer...living?" Elizabeth blinks, the colour draining from her cheeks. Her heart stops; she had not expected to hear that. "H-how did he die?"
"He was killed," Klaus speaks calmly, measured, carefully polishing his glasses. He examines the lenses with a critical eye. "For treason. He sent you to your mother in an attempt to save you."
Silence fills the air for a moment. Klaus simply occupies himself with the items on his desk, avoiding the subject as much as possible.
Elizabeth breathes in deeply and scolds herself for feeling grief towards someone she did not know. She should not feel bad, should not feel guilty nor miserable, due to this news. She barely knew her father and from the sound of it, she was the cause of his death.
She should not feel grief; she should not feel melancholy.
She should feel guilty.
"Can I still go to the Demon Realm?" Elizabeth whispers, timidly breaking the silence. Instinctively, she bites into her lower lip, her hands twisting together. "I know I was born there, but I do have goddess blood within me. Would that remove my right to access?"
Gratefully, Klaus' features brighten, his expression seeming to thank Elizabeth for changing the subject. Rather obviously, it was something that pained him much more than it ever would Elizabeth.
"You can access it as easily as any demon alive," The demon grins, hopping up from his station at the desk. Effortlessly, he leads her towards the raucous room next door, raising his voice to combat the rabble. "Although, you would need some practice."
"But if I can easily access it, why do I need a guide?" Elizabeth questioned, her confusion visibly evident.
"Because we're taking you to the General himself," Klaus informs, his features darkening a little. He guides her past the room filled with boisterous men and eccentric women and pauses outside the door to a room further down the hall. "To his and the king's knowledge you are the daughter of one of your father's mistresses. You're returning to what is rightfully your home."
"I see," Elizabeth nods, humming. She raises a brow. "So when do I meet this General?"
"Tomorrow."
