A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long! My writer's block made getting the first part of this chapter written a royal pain - then I totally forgot to post this up on fanfic too. So this chapter is extra, extra late. But hopefully the quality is up to standard.

Till next time,

D.L.D


~~~~~Violet-Flames~~~~~

"Minx!" Reaching forwards, Elizabeth unlatches the window and places a small plate on the sill. Fresh air gushes into the room, cold and crisp, flapping the fine fabric of the curtains. It wafts the salty scent of fish around the area, attracting its intended target.

Not long after Elizabeth's call, the hybrid observes the feline journeying toward the room, sniffing out the few pieces of fish laid out for her. Each floor was passed with graceful tact and leaps, the creature swiftly snapping up the fish and prancing up to Elizabeth via the open window.

"I'm glad you're not mad at me," Elizabeth finds herself sighing, collapsing onto the mattress of the bed. Effortlessly, it bent and morphed to cradle her shape, soft and comforting. "Today has been so hectic..."

Truthfully, Elizabeth hadn't intended to spend so long away from Minx, but duty bade that she follow Klaus around and learn all she could while she still can. That meant she spent much of the afternoon learning about the unexplored half of her heritage. Well, as much as she could under the facade of normality.

But after being shown about by the inn by Klaus and settling into her room, Elizabeth had decided immediately to check upon Minx. The feline was her companion after all, albeit a weird one. Plus...she had to admit a teensy-tiny mistake she made.

"Now, I apologise in advance Minx but..." Elizabeth sighed, running a hand through her hair. Her skin flushed, warm blood pushing and pulsing beneath its surface.

For once her darkness was boiling excitedly under the surface, instead of remaining dormant. All day, at announced times, it would flicker onto her skin before rapidly dissipating, as if the air was making it evaporate. The whole thing confused her. Perplexed her. Her darkness had never been so...excited. This situation was only making it worse.

But rather anticlimactically, Minx only cocked her head in response, already feasting away on her fish. However as Elizabeth babbled on and on about the day's events, the feline grew more skeptical of the true intentions of this chat. Soon, she was staring at Elizabeth, her golden eyes narrowed with scrutiny, and the fish remaining ignored.

At the look of intense concentration Minx gave her, Elizabeth immediately reddened further - caught like a child with their hand within a cookie jar. She knew there was no point in hiding the truth from the cat. There was no point in lying.

She just didn't want to face the consequences. That's all.

"I may have also lost your biscuits..." Elizabeth smiles sheepishly, a small nervous chuckle escaping her lips. Warily, she watches as Minx's eyes widen in surprise. "However...I did replace them, right?"

Silence fills the room, Minx promptly stalking towards the window and stroppily eating her fish from there. A low growl emanated from her corner. Even if the cat couldn't talk, it was obvious she was mad - annoyed - at Elizabeth for losing the biscuits. Those delicious, fish biscuits...

However, that only made Elizabeth feel worse. It made the dread build up within her even worse, her stomach knotting into impossible twists. Dread led to her darkness hissing and bubbling further, sprouting more vigourously on her skin.

'Silly mistake. Silly mistake,' Deep and chiding, her darkness never failed to sound completely condescending. It made a shiver creep up Elizabeth's spine. 'Always making silly mistakes.'

'Oh shush,' Elizabeth frowns a little, trying to brush away the small sting of the blow her other half had delivered. 'You don't know anything about mistakes.'

'Sure...' Oh, she could sense the eye roll. The lip of down-turned disgust and distaste. 'I don't know about mistakes, but you sure do.'

"Even you're mad at me..." Elizabeth huffs, addressing both Minx and her darkness. Staring at the ceiling, she tries not to focus on the jittery darkness continually patching and fading on her skin. "How can anger help me infiltrate the elite of the demon race, if I can't even please a cat?"

No answer. Naturally there is no answer. Elizabeth's darkness had shrunk into nothingness once more and Minx had fallen silent, her ears stood to attention as she peered at the door. Then, as if on cue, a prompt knock interrupted the conversation - or rather thinking aloud session - causing Elizabeth to bolt upright; Minx had already scampered into hiding.

"Um - come in!" Elizabeth calls, trying to hide the pure surprise and shock within her voice. It fails terribly, the tips of her ears burning with heat as her insides squirm with pressure.

As promptly as the knock had been, the door swings opens and reveals the stiff form of Jezebel. Darkness marks her face, highlighting her porcelain complexion and matching her darkened eyes and hair. By her side, both of her fists are clenched - tightened - as if she were about to explode at any given second.

"Klaus said I should apologise," Jezebel walks in, just as gruff as she had been earlier on. Her lips move in an unnatural fashion, stiff and mechanical. "So sorry."

"Um...thank you," Elizabeth's first instinct is confusion, bemusement. Her next is to accept the apology, as her mother would advise her to. They both join together in a confused and sheepish grin, her own darkness resurfacing with her nerves.

"I also wanted to tell you that I don't hate you personally," Jezebel continues, her voice becoming ever-more strained. Uneasily, her fists shook, betraying her intense willpower. "So don't take anything I say to heart. If anything ignore me when I'm angry, like Klaus does. It's the best way to deal with it."

"Ok..." Confusion. Pure confusion. However, Jezebel seems to accept Elizabeth's confusion as understanding, nodding a little as she hums.

She adds, "We're leaving early tomorrow, so I suggest you get some rest."

"Thank you, Jezebel," Elizabeth calls out, unknowing of why she did it. Despite her intense perplexity, genuinely, a warm smile sits on her features. "For apologising."

The demon pauses. For a moment, Jezebel is frozen and all of the tension rolls from her body. Her fists become slack, her grimace lightens to a neutral purse and her eyes widen just a little. Even the darkness on her skin pauses, shrinks minutely, waiting for its owner to act.

Head-first, Jezebel turns to Elizabeth and blinks. Quickly. So fast, it could seen as a blur.

"Don't mention it," She mumbled, swiftly closing the door behind her in record time. It doesn't even make a sound.

'Now that was weird...' Elizabeth sighs, flopping back to stare at the ceiling. She smiles. 'But at least it's a good kind of weird.'


~~~~~Violet-Flames~~~~~

Something is amiss. Elizabeth can feel it, sense it, in the way her fingers bend before her. Never before had her joints felt so restricted; never before had she felt as if she were wearing a second skin; never before had she worn such delicate white gloves.

Compared to what she normally wore, the gloves felt way too gaudy, over the top to be hers. Elizabeth was the sort of woman to like simple and yet pretty clothes, the sort that weren't too restricting but also were also decent. Practical.

So to find herself here, wherever here was, wearing elbow gloves, did not feel right. It felt just as wrong as the teetering heels she felt placed upon her feet. It felt just as wrong as the flowing gown she felt restricting her legs.

"Where am I?" The words leave her lips in a muted bubble, floating into the air as vapourless clouds. Her blue eyes watch as they fade into a misty fog, dissipating into the gloom like a distant vision.

As if sensing her question, light suddenly enters the gloom, forming in a single flickering flame. Oddly, it glows blue, an ethereal, light and enchanting blue, much like Hades' own flames, and quickly bends and morphs to twist into a soft yellow light.

As soon as it does, a million other flames follow, small and yellow and warm, as if summoned by a single smokey breath of a dragon.

Continuing to sprout, the amber flames danced and waved in a particular direction, beckoning for the confused hybrid to follow. Further along, they spiraled downwards, mimicking the twists and turns of a pathway, a staircase, their small glows prancing from left to right.

A shiver races down Elizabeth's spine. Her mother had always told her to never follow mysterious lights. Magic could be residing with them - danger could be residing with them. Nothing good ever came from following the unknown.

More flames appeared, much more insistent than the past ones, their lights casting bright spheres onto the walls surrounding them. Thanks to their illumination, Elizabeth could make out the familiar crest of some sort of important family; she just couldn't remember which.

Curiosity filling her veins, Elizabeth stretched a gloved hand to touch the wall. Cold immediately crept up her arm, light and shivery, as she felt the familiar bumps of brick and stone. To the side she could make out the smooth surface of metal: iron.

She was within a building. A rather grand building.

But why?

'Follow the light,' Her darkness sings into her ears. For once it is calm, silken. 'Follow it.'

Obeying her darkness' wishes, Elizabeth nodded and picked up the vast, flowing skirts of her gown. They felt odd in her hands, slippery and soft, and her mind couldn't help but wonder just how she had ended up wearing it. She could not recall slipping it on. She didn't even remember owning such a garment.

Where had it come from?

Was it for here?

As Elizabeth stumbled down the gloomy, empty passage, more lights began to sprout. They raced ahead of the hybrid, disappearing into the murky fog beyond, and continued to spiral downward. Along the way they marked out thin slits - windows - and paused to show her the glossy frames of portraits.

One particular piece was of herself, her baby blue eyes reflecting brightly in the candle-like light. Settled in the midst of her silver hair was a tiara, the twisting silver intertwined with shining opal and milky pearl. The new gloves were pulled onto her arms and oddly matched with the pure white gown adorning her body. In her hands was a sword and beside her was someone she could not recall. Someone she could not name. All she could recognise was the wild tufts of his blonde hair.

Peculiar.

'I wonder where this leads,' Elizabeth mused, trying to make out the outlines and shapes of other objects she passed. Many of them were straight and angular, their corners and sides evident even in the heavy darkness. But the lights would not waver to reveal them.

Soon, the gloom dies down to reveal a brighter glow cutting through. At first it is a few stray dregs of light that stretch like the tiny fingers of a newborn, but eventually it swells and floods, blinding Elizabeth as she stepped through a doorway.

Immediately, she notices the difference, the grandeur hidden behind the gloom. Once flickering flames grew into the ambient glow of a chandelier, clear crystal refracting beams onto every possible surface. Polished marble flooring, formidable pillars sectioning off the sides of the room and of course golden gilt splashed onto the already patterned crown moulding. All of it, everything was something Elizabeth was not used to. It was all something she'd grown up without.

And yet, she felt like she had once been here, had once run along the polished floors and dodged between the pillars when running away from her caretakers.

In another life, perhaps she had. But in this life, she did not remember doing so.

"She is here!" A voice calls out, loud and gracious and eloquent. Elizabeth is tempted to say it is her mother's, it sounds so much like her, but she thinks otherwise. Her mother was not one to indulge in the fancies of a place like this.

Uncertainly, Elizabeth pauses in the doorway, biting her lip as she peers at the room beyond. It was a wide space, vast and empty and hollow, and yet it was filled with crowds of faces that Elizabeth felt were alien and yet distantly similar. All of them draped in finery and jewels, their eyes glued to the grander entrance towards the other end of the room.

Elizabeth also glances that way and spots someone almost her exact double standing at the top of a staircase. Unlike Elizabeth, she smirks confidently and waves, gracefully making her way down the staircase with an air the hybrid herself could never learn. Heck, she wore the gloves and dress way better than she ever could.

"What is this?" Once more her voice leaves in muted bubbles, trailing like smoke only to evaporate into thin mist. Apart from her darkness, no-one hears her - all their attention is captured in the hold of the elegant princess.

Well, that was what Elizabeth had thought until a single face turned at the sound of her questioned. As soon as she spotted it, she froze, pinned to the spot at the overwhelming sense of déjà vu that swept over her.

The sweep of his blonde hair, the set of his dark eyes - it was the person from the portrait - the blonde. But why would he be the only one to hear her? Out of every person here, why was he the only one who noticed her presence?

"I've been meaning to give you this," He gives her a smile she shouldn't trust, effortlessly passing her a box.

"Um...thank you," Elizabeth manages to blurt out, her voice fading to a bashful squeak. She was never gifted with grace - not like this other version of her. Surely, the tips of her ears must be burning. She can feel the warm pinkness of her face already. Most certainly,

Carefully, Elizabeth unties the ribbon and lifts the lid from the box. Red paper covers whatever object is inside, the colour deep and rich and ominous. She feels her heartbeat creep into her throat. She knows this colour. She knows this box.

Firmly pressing her lips together, the hybrid slowly unfurls the paper. It crinkles with each touch, bending with some sort of unforeseen weight. Each crinkle makes her nerves jump beneath her skin. She doesn't want to open the box. She doesn't want to see what's inside.

As soon as the crinkly paper is gone, a terrible stench invades her nose. Metallic. Strong. Her stomach swims with bile, ready to empty itself.

Dread forming in the pit of her stomach, Elizabeth peers into the box. She meets the dull-eyed gaze of two glassy blue eyes. Her own blue eyes.

"Happy birthday."

The box drops from her hands.

She screams.


~~~~~Violet-Flames~~~~~

Elizabeth jerks up from her sleep, her chest heaving with every breath she takes. Sweat rolls from her skin, attempting to cool her down, but it ultimately fails as her heart continues to slam against her rib cage.

Constantly, her eyes dart around the room, shifting from place to place. They long to locate something familiar, something other than the foreign objects of this room, but end up fixing on the sheeny window beside her. The rain-specked window beside her. It reminded her of the pungent scent of blood.

Gagging, Elizabeth swallows the bile climbing up her throat. Thunder rolls ominously in the background, low and distinct. Like always, her mother was watching, making sure she was doing as told.

Breathing in deeply, Elizabeth holds a hand to her chest. Beneath it, her heart was racing at a million beats per second. If she wanted to calm down, she needed to slow it down. She needed to find peace within the thunder like she did the day she left. She closes her eyes.

Never before had a nightmare been so terrifying to her. Usually, they would be the sort where she could face the fear, know that it is not real, but tonight's had been different. Tonight's vision had been much more terrifying than all of her other dreams combined together.

Unlike previous nightmares, tonight's was so real, so lifelike, that Elizabeth had to scream. She had to panic. Just the sight of those eyes, those empty, whitened, glassy eyes, made her insides squirm with a panic she didn't know she had. They made her brain and body shut down in way they never had before.

When Elizabeth had dropped the box, it was simply a reflex action - an instinct - and she knew it was expected. She knew that the blonde had wanted her to scream. But why? And who exactly is he? She keeps seeing his face everywhere.

Gently, a furry head nuzzles Elizabeth's skin. She jumps. A low growl in heard in response, a pair of amber eyes narrowing at the hybrid. The cat did not appreciate being shoved out of the way.

"Sorry, Minx..." Elizabeth sighs, gingerly petting the disturbed feline's head. She lets the soft fur glide under her fingers, the motion soothing her a tiny bit. "I forgot."

Huffing, the creature planted herself on Elizabeth's lap, offering herself up for comfort duty. It wasn't like anyone else was going to listen. Klaus was probably asleep and Jezebel was too grumpy and bitter to ever be good at nightmare advice. That meant it was all up to Minx to pull the weight of the team and soothe Elizabeth's obvious jittery nerves.

"It just felt so real..." Elizabeth sniffs a little, suppressing the urge to shiver. Her body ignores her and shivers anyway. For once her darkness refuses to appear, forcing her to feel the brunt of her emotions. "The darkness, the box - all of it felt so real."

Breaking the room's stillness, a heavy hand knocks upon the door. Instantly, Elizabeth's spine stands straight and her hand freezes within Minx's fur. Minx herself was tense, her back preparing to arch and a hiss brewing in the back of her throat. Who could possibly be knocking at this time?

For a few minutes, the pair both sat there, staring at the door, awaiting what would happen next. It wasn't long before more heavy knocking filled the air, this time more urgent and irate.

"Elizabeth?" Jezebel's voice cuts through the silence, sharp and crisp and prompt. She sounds annoyed, agitated, her heavy knocking not helping the situation at all. "I heard you screaming, so I know you're awake."

Swallowing thickly, Elizabeth continues to silently play with Minx's fur. Hopefully, Jezebel would just grow tired of knocking and will eventually walk away. She didn't seem like the type to care if someone was upset, just the sort to check and then leave it alone when given no response.

So Elizabeth was stunned with the door handle jiggled, the knob turning from being used from the other side; Jezebel was actually coming in to check on her.

"I'm coming in," The demon warned, slowly opening the door to the room. A thin slither of light leaks into the room, emanating from the single flame of a solitary candle. It casts a violet glow onto the cotton of her nightgown, making it appear to be darker than it really was.

At Jezebel's interruption, Elizabeth peers up from Minx and watches as the more ill-tempered female strolled towards her bed. Rather impatiently, she flopped down onto the edge of the bed and flicked her midnight hair from her dark eyes. For a moment, she stares at the candle, watching its swaying flame, before turning to face the tense cat within Elizabeth's lap.

"Is that yours?" Jezebel asks, raising a brow. She studies the feline, her dark eyes staring right back at Minx's as she tilts her head. "It's...cute."

Elizabeth still remains silent, her hand frozen within Minx's fur. She can feel the ridges of the animal's spine beneath her flesh, but she doesn't bother to calm her down. She can't. Her head is still thinking about the box, the head and the blue eyes that stared at her. The same eyes many told her were pretty.

Lurching forwards, Elizabeth nearly empties the contents of her stomach onto the floor. What stops her is Jezebel, the female's hand coming to rest on Elizabeth's shoulder. At her touch, Elizabeth's darkness immediately wraps around her skin, sucking away the nauseous feeling within her brain.

Heat flooding her face, Elizabeth gently brushes Jezebel's hand away and sits back up. Promptly, Minx climbs off her lap and retreats towards the corner to gain a better vantage spot of Jezebel. Her amber eyes are still narrowed.

"I heard you scream..." Jezebel sighs, staring ahead at the gloomy wall. Her own face wears a tiny blush, her free hand twisting in her hair. "You wanna...talk about it?"

If Elizabeth had a guess, she'd say that Jezebel was searching for the right thing to say - some sort of thing to comfort Elizabeth with. Of course, it appeared out of character for her - a person who was so tough and angry and explosive - to try and offer Elizabeth comfort. People like Jezebel were the sort you wouldn't think would know how to be nice let alone comfort or apologise.

Yet she did apologise to Elizabeth decently - well semi-decently. Perhaps she should give the poor girl a chance.

"I had a nightmare..." Elizabeth breathes, falling to lie on her back. Even now, with Jezebel present and the candle flickering through the gloom, she could imagine the box and its dreadful surprise. She could feel a scream erupting from her lips. "I saw my head. In a box."

Instantly, Jezebel grows tense, her spine straightening beneath her nightgown. The candle in her hold freezes a little - pausing - and Elizabeth now notices how it is not like the usual flame. It was more lively, bright. Like hellblaze.

Crackling replaces the silence of the room, the flame slowly moving from left to right once more. It sways in a simple dance, never straying from its predicted pattern, and doesn't grow and swell like Elizabeth had expected it to. She was always told that within the right environment hellblaze could grow larger much faster than she could blink. But right now, it was as harmless as a normal flame.

Entrapped, Elizabeth stares at the flame while Jezebel thinks. She wants to find out exactly how this hellblaze works. She wants to know why she, a half-demon, cannot use it. Was it because she was never trained? Or was it because her demon blood was too diluted?

"Did someone give the box to you?" Jezebel asks slowly, carefully, watching Elizabeth's reaction. The female's eyes do not stray from the flame.

"Yes, but I didn't recognise them," Elizabeth frowns, biting into her lip. Her fingers itch to touch the flame, to feel if it would burn like a normal fire, but her inhibitions hold her back. "I didn't...know them from before."

"Hmmm," Jezebel hums, getting up from the bed and taking the violet flame with her. It forces Elizabeth to snap her gaze towards the demon, her darkness and brain upset with the lost opportunity to know more about hellblaze. "Try not to think too much about it."

"I won't," Elizabeth nods, humming. Once again, she has the urge to ask Jezebel to teach her, show her, the ways of her demon side. She wants to know how actual demons utilize and show their heritage compared to a half-breed like her.

But once again, like before, Elizabeth keeps her mouth shut and ignores the darkness snaking up her limbs as Jezebel pauses at the door.

"Also, next time, try not to scream," Jezebel smirks, an even more gloomy darkness entering her eyes, warning and foreboding. "Next time I won't be so forgiving about it."

The door then slams shut and Elizabeth is left alone in the gloom and the darkness, the darkness and the gloom, thinking about violet flames and wild blonde hair. Wild blonde hair and violet flames.