"Welshem oo huh whirr hm morrhn," a voice filtered in. "Rrr, Rrra? Caher. Hhh, Shitbird." Raelle nodded her head at the name. "At least you heard that."

"Bellweather," she grumbled in response, a short chuckle escaping her dry lips. "Where am I?" Collar opened her eyes, her body aching all over from her injury. "What happened?"

"You got a knife in the heart," Abigail explained, "Nasty injury… but fucking courageous of you to go back to save that kid."

"Now's not the time to get sentimental," she joked, getting help as she sat up. "Thank you for saving me. Where's our little ray of sunshine?"

"She's still stuck as one of Alder's biddies, but they're trying to replace her, last I heard. You know, I'm glad you're alive, we thought we lost you. You stopped breathing when we left, and it took all of Alder's Biddies to keep you alive until you were at base camp."

"I'm glad I'm not that disposable."

"You're irreplaceable, Raelle," she tried to convince her.

"How long have I been out?"

"About a week, they weren't sure you'd ever wake up-"

"But you stayed, thank you."

"And Scylla," she noted, "Cute brand you have."

Raelle glanced down at her palm, seeing a new S carve into her hand. A flood of overwhelming sorrow tore at her heartstrings, the pain making her dizzy. It ate away at her, the memory of condemning her being the final memory they shared. Tears filled her eyes and an incessant beeping from her monitor filled the room. Abi slid in beside her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders, trying to do what their other sister would do. She rushed her hands through her hair, holding her as the sobering minutes passed. Raelle brushed the tears from her eyes and pulled out of her embrace, the door suddenly opening.

"She's awake, how are you feeling, Private Collar?" a doctor inquired.

"I've felt better."

"Could I get a moment alone with your friend, I just need to perform some cognitive tests," she told Abigail.

"Wait, can she stay?"

"Of course, if that's what you wish." She stood by the other side of the hospital cot and set her clipboard down to begin.

Raelle felt weak, the light from the doctor's pen dizzied her, her strength seemed shot, even her reflexes were slightly off. It wasn't until she was asked to stand that she felt useless after almost vomiting from the sudden vertical change. Even though the medical woman explained to her that she lost massive amounts of blood, nothing could take away how utterly frail she felt, only exacerbated when she learned about the circular scar carved over her heart.

"I will inform General Alder that you have woken up. I know she's been thinking about how to reward you and restate your duties now that the mission has been accomplished," the doctor stated with a smile. She gathered her belongings and left the room.

"Talking about reassignments," Abigail began, "I was assigned to become a Blaster here. I'm the first Bellweather in three generations to attend Fort Salem!"

"Where has your family been accepted to in the past?" Raelle inquired.

"Kyteler. I hope we all stay here, I really don't know how I'd get by without you all," she admitted.

"Well, I'm not sure we'll have any classes together unless Tall and I become Blasters, too." Raelle leaned against the wall, tilting her head back to look at the water-stained ceiling. "Thank you for saving me. I was such an asshole when we first met and I apologize for that."

"I was told that the rebellious cadets make the most courageous soldiers, and that couldn't be truer with you. I hope this isn't overstepping any boundaries, but from what you've said about your mom, it seems that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

Raelle smirked at her statement, wondering herself how well Petra and her mom knew each other. "Thank you, Abi."

"I'm gonna go to the caf, do you want any real food?"

"Yeah, surprise me!" Raelle smiled, waiting until the door closed to reflect on her thoughts.

She looked up at the mirror by the door, slowly standing up and grabbing a cart at the end of her bed to hobble over to it. Raelle mulled overlooking at herself, finally pulling down her gown to get a better look at her injury. From the reflection in the glass, there was deep uneven tissue that didn't look like it would fully heal. All soldiers had scars, but Raelle couldn't even look at herself. She endangered her unit by leaving the helicopter, her impulsive words caused them all to fall behind their peers and damage Abigail's name, preventing her mother from moving up and possibly increasing the issues in the military. Raelle felt the incessant itching in her palm, finally looking down at the S her love had given her. It was all too much to bear, the guilt of condemning her friends and love to possibly deadly fates. Being accepted into Fort Salem meant that Abigail would be assigned to special operations, increasing her chances of death at the hands of the Camarilla. Tally was stuck as a mindless minion to Alder, and Scylla was alone in prison, possibly scared out of her mind. She may have been Spree, but she wasn't like those other war criminals and traitors. Her heart began to ache again, her head pulsing and her limbs feeling heavy before she made her way back to bed.

"Another attack by the Terrorist group known as the Camarilla has shaken the United States. In Kansas City, of the Cession, twelve more Witches have been killed. With a new group on the rise and the Spree no longer attacking, one wonders if there is a possible ceasefire for these senseless acts of…"

Scylla listened to the report from the ratty couch that faced the fireplace. The radio was always on when they attacked as if her sisters wanted to revel in their actions, but with the Camarilla's return, meetings were held over the droning journalists. Scylla looked at the charred bricks, index finger drawing the swirling letter in her palm while she repeated the incantation. She had wished she taught the work to Raelle before everything fell apart, now more than ever as she felt an emptiness from the other side, a coldness as if she was no longer connecting to it. She had failed her mission, but the thought of such a powerful woman beating out purebred witches warmed her heart.

"Come here, Ramshorn," Willa called to her from her office on the second landing. Scylla instantly got up, joining their leader and her generals. "MacNamara has informed me that your cover was completely blown, so we dug up an old alias for you. What do you think, can you handle a new assignment?"

"Yes ma'am," Scylla quickly affirmed, "What is my assignment?"

Their leader pulled out an envelope, presenting it to her, "Euryale Kiran, civilian from Missoula, Montana. You'll have to visit Williamson for a bit of a change. Everyone is dismissed, save for you," she directed to Scylla. "I will need you to research our next attack. I'm looking for response times from the military, foot traffic, and any security details we might run into. You'll be working under General Murare."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Depends, what's it about?"

"Raelle and Edwin."

"Close the door," she commanded. "What did you think when you found out Raelle wasn't fully a witch?"

Scylla followed her orders and stood before her. "... I was already in love with her when she told me about her dad. Why would you lead the front against civilians if you married one?"

Willa pondered for a moment, deciding how trustworthy this witch was. "I do believe we're better than those civilians. We can manipulate minds, heal one another, and speak to the dead. I also know that the witches Alder has bred are far weaker than herself and I believe she knows that. She lives on life forces, not power. If she truly cared about making fearsome soldiers, she would have told our witches to engage with civilians, too."

"Wait, are you talking about-"

"Inbreeding, yes. Raelle is as strong as she is because she isn't bogged down by imperfections. I knew from the moment she was born that she would be practically invincible." Willa glanced down at her coffee, a smirk appearing on her lips, "I'm sure you're aware of her power."

"She took out a room of cadets with her Christo-Pagan work," Scylla recalled being told. "Aren't you afraid one of your attacks might kill Edwin, though?"

"That's why I moved us to the Cession. It's the sanctuary between the civilian world and witches."

"Why attack civilians instead of the military?"

"We needed to provoke them. Full attacks against our own would be regressive, they would fail to make the point that groups like the Camarilla persisted past the Accord. Witches live their lives being tracked by these bigots whether or not they know they're special. We needed to force Alder to break free from that Civilian President."

"Wouldn't that make civilians hate us more?"

"Yes, it would, but the Camarilla must be weeded out."

"Why-"

"Look, Scylla, you had one job, to bring back my daughter, and I am finding it in the goodness of my heart to give you another chance to do something for us until the Military stops looking for you. Go find Williamson and give her the green slip in your envelope, then review your new identity."

"Yes, ma'am," she quickly nodded. "May I step outside, for some air, I feel… a little sick," she sighed, holding a hand over her heart.

"Don't take too long," Collar agreed.

Scylla took the envelope and walked downstairs, a hand still clenched over her heart when a sharp pain tore through her chest, like bad heartburn or the feeling after sprinting a mile. She clung onto the door frame as the feeling escalated to the point where it seemed her heart might explode. Spots formed in her vision until as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped, the only thing left being the remaining aching in her chest. She grabbed her cup of coffee and walked out of the Spree's hideout, the gate closing behind her as she wandered the city.

"I expected a bit more out of you, Ramshorn," a slithering voice berated.

Scylla whipped around on her heels, shoving the envelope in her back pocket as she came face to face with Anacostia. She cooled her temper, halting the biting questions on her tongue. "I have nowhere else to go, what do you expect?" She smirked a tad at the taught silence between them, avoiding Quartermaine's dark sharp eyes. "How's Raelle doing, kicking ass in College, I assume?"

"I doubt it, her unit was deployed last night."

Her heart suddenly sank, hand back over her aching chest. "They're fine, right? Are they after the Spree?"

"No, our ancient enemy has returned." Scylla's chest began to ache again, her stomach churned at the possible reason behind her sudden pain. "She is being led by the General herself."

"We are disposable to her," she spat. "I have a feeling Raelle is in great danger, I know she's in danger; hurt or…" Scylla couldn't even verbalize the possibility. "What are you doing here?"

"If the Camarilla are attacking us again, we need your help to bring them down for good. I need you to figure out what the Spree wants and their next moves. We cannot persist in these senseless acts of violence when we have a far greater threat looming in the near future."

"Is there any way I could see Raelle again?"

"Is that what you want?"

"More than anything in the world," she mindlessly confirmed.

"Give me what I want and I will find a way to get you two reconnected, I'll let you know when I've seen enough to repay you."

"How the hell did you get a picture?" Raelle chuckled, looking at a photo of them after the Pageant.

Abigail roared with laughter, flicking the polaroid of her friend asleep on the ride back. "Dude, you were passed the fuck out." She reached into Collar's duffle, searching through the bottom to pull out a combat charm Tally had made. It was an off blue ribbon pleated and formed in a circle with some black thread, a bead sewn to the middle. "Oh, my goddess."

"Yeah, I feel bad that I didn't wear it."

"It probably lost its charm when Garrett… yeah."

"Yeah," she agreed.

The door opened again, so Abigail began to replace her belongings back in the bag. She instantly stood at attention at the sight of General Alder and her Biddies filing into the room, forming a semi-circle around them. Tally stood behind the others, respectfully watching her old unit.

"At ease," the ancient general nodded. "Fellthorn told me you woke up, Private Collar. You did a great thing, saving the Tarim boy. So, I thought it would be important for you to know that next semester, we plan to keep you here in Salem to join our Special Operations Medical Institute for further training, of course, that is if you have recovered in time."

"Thank you, General," Raelle begrudgingly nodded.

"Private Craven," she addressed the now greyed soldier, "we will leave you five minutes to speak with your unit."

"Thank you, ma'am," she respectfully bowed, watching from the corner of her eye as they left the room. Once alone, she rushed to Raelle's side, tightly embracing her old sisters. "Oh my goddess, I thought you were- but when they said you weren't, I was praying you would wake up, then Fellthorn told us and I could barely contain my- you're alive!"

"I missed you, Tal," Collar tried to comfort her

"How is it as a biddie?" Abigail inquired.

"Well, we do everything together. It's fun. You know, most of those women are only at most five years older than us?"

"My god, she really sucks the life out of them," Raelle muttered under her breath. "Do you know when you'll be normal again?"

"No, but I know that I'm not anywhere near as skilled as them. Even the works Alder knows, I just can't seem to perform yet?"

"Have you been getting private lessons?"

"Well, no, but I can… nevermind."

"No, what is it?"

"I can see her memories," she whispered, the door instantly swinging open.

"Craven, your time's up," they heard Alder bark.

"Yes, ma'am! I'm sorry, I miss you guys!" Tally quickly added on her way out.

~10 Months Later~

"Eighty-three dead in less than a year," Quartermaine informed Scylla over coffee. "I expected more to be done."

"It's a slow process, but we agreed upon a ceasefire."

"That's not enough. Look, I appreciate your information, but with no help from your people, I can't give you what you want until we have a conversation with one of your superiors."

"Only if you promise to leave them be."

"I can't promise that."

Scylla took her cup and rose to her feet, pulling her hair over her shoulder, "Then we're done here. A safe meeting is all I ask. Goodbye until then."

"You really don't have the upper hand, Ramshorn. I know where the home base is."

"But I highly doubt you are willing to threaten your next home." Eliciting the wanted response from her, Scylla smirks, "I know more than you think I do, Quartermaine."

"Collar still asks about you."

Scylla felt her heart drop, and her head went fuzzy. She turned back around, both hands wrapped around the paper cup. "How is she?"

"She has a unit she's of her own now, I guess Bellweather was a greater influence than I had originally thought."

"I know I shouldn't ask, but… has she found someone else?"

Anacostia cocked her head to the side. "I wouldn't know, I can only say how she's fairing from an academic perspective."

Ramshorn placed a few bills on the table and left for a long stroll around the city before returning to the base of operations. She sat in the cramped back yard, the hustle and bustle of the house's occupants, and the pedestrians on the sidewalk filled the otherwise peaceful midmorning air. She hated the monotonous life she was leading now. Bootleg classes more bent on teaching their history than works and recon missions filled her hours, but while she was leagues ahead of her instructors, Scylla remained on thin ice with their generals. She sat at the small picnic table, tracing the S into her palm as usual. She pined after her love, hope slowly leaving her thoughts as the days lingered since they last reconnected. With all of her heart, she couldn't explain Raelle's siren-like draw, why every time she thought of the young soldier she felt so elated, even with the possibility that she had moved on.

"Ramshorn."

Scylla placed her hands flat against the table at the sound of Willa's voice. "Yes, ma'am?"

General Collar sat across from her, turning her hand over to study the lightly embedded S. "How is my daughter doing?"

"She's leading a unit. I was told she's performing quite well and may go on to graduate in the top ten soldiers if she continues this."

Willa nodded, a small grin appearing over her naturally impartial features. She recomposed herself, folding her hands on the table to begin her proposal. "Ramshorn, would you be capable of bringing Raelle to our side? I would want you to keep a close eye on her for when she next leaves the fort."

"Of course, ma'am, er yes, ma'am."

"Good. I can get you some intel from our current contact on the inside, but it will be solely up to you to bring her here. I am relying on you to tell me everything you know, any hiccups or intel you pick up from her. You are going to report straight to me, no longer General Murare."

"Yes, ma'am," she nodded, keeping an eye on Willa until she disappeared behind the sliding door.

Scylla bit the inside of her cheek and continued to draw her initial into her hand, tracing the curve over and over again with all of her heart.

A breath between classes and on her way to the helipad to prepare for a mock drop, Raelle caught up with her old unit. Tally and Abigail waited patiently by their barracks with a sandwich for her. Collar took it from her hands, unwrapping the cling wrap while Tally updated them on her class.

"Oh my gosh, Lieutenant General Richester is on my ass."

"I feel like all of our instructors are like that. I'm always pulled up for examples," Raelle muttered through her lunch. "I miss being allowed to screw up, not gonna lie."

"Ditto," their High Atlantic amie admitted.

"Richester wants me to lead not only my unit, which isn't my job but to be a teacher's aide. I have no idea what I'm doing? I feel like sometimes I have it and other times I'm just missing the mark."

Raelle finished off the meager food and tossed the balled-up plastic wrap in a bin. "Shit, at least Wick lets me screw up and follow her lead."

"I just need a break, I miss the Pageant."

"Me, too, but with all of this Camarilla shit," Abigail piped in, "I don't blame Alder for canceling our participation. I feel like things haven't been this bad with Civilians since the Accord."

Raelle got sucked into her thoughts, her partner's mark itching under her glove, as they meandered down the main road. Their ball of energy rushed to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

"I miss training with you guys. It was fun at first, but now I fear we're going to get in deeper than we can even fathom."

"Poetic way of saying we're fucked, Tal." Her eyes wandered the greenbelt where they had all danced almost a year prior, not a care in the world with no ancient enemy at their throats. She felt like an idiot, though, for not connecting Porter's death to Scylla being Spree. "Would you guys want to go to Beltane this year?"

"If they still hold it," Bellweather noted.

"They're not going to cancel that, too? We need Beltane to release tension, especially now."

"Honestly, I don't think I'll be going, though."

"What? I thought you of all people would want to join in?" Collar chuckled, prodding her friend in the side. "Come on, join us, Abigail, join us," she creepily droned.

The bell tolled for their next class, to the High Atlantic's relief, "Thank goddess, go to your emergency drop, shitbird."

"Bye guys," Raelle cackled, jogging to the helipad.

Out by in the flatlands on the lonely trail, she called out to her unit sister, Josephine, an American-Indonesian private three years older than her. Leviolet turned around, talking with her usual swagger backward, only slowing down slightly. Her scourge lazily wrapped against her leg.

"Welcome to the plains, Cession," she chuckled, spinning around with her arms outstretched. "You ready to fly?"

"Always," she grinned, getting pulled into a side hug. "Frickin' stoner."

"Hey, sometimes Salva just doesn't do it for me."

"Better weed than Salva," she muttered. "Hey, have you seen Lauri, today?"

"No, but I know she's somewhere."

"Here!" they heard a voice breathlessly echo. "I'm here."

Graeae sprinted up to them, stumbling to a walk to stay in stride with her sisters. Her black hair was pulled back into a loose bun, which she quickly put up again. Raelle fixed her sisters' uniforms, making sure they were presentable to their instructor. They found their way to the open field where a helicopter was packed for an emergency airlift, Colonel Wick was intently talking to the pilot in her drop uniform. Raelle stood at attention with her unit as they waited to be acknowledged. The Colonel approached them with a dreaded brown box in her hands.

"Today you will be practicing a drop with the Camarilla's current silencer seed. Use your Salva and scourge wisely. Get in and get out as quickly as you can to recover the wounded before they need work. Gear up, ladies,"

Raelle let her unit on first and geared up, checking their satchels before giving their pilot the go-ahead. She then sat down with her team, messing with the tin to her Salva. She knew her unit well. Josephine needed to meditate, Laurielle had to pray, and Raelle needed to look at her military issued Salva tin. It wasn't really hers though, it was Scylla's. After she went missing, Collar broke into her room and took the altoid looking tin from her footlocker along with a few other objects. She closed her eyes, feeling the S scar under her glove, it gave her a sense of relief to have her in constant contact.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted the light switch from red to green. She placed her hands on her sister's shoulders, placing the Salva patch on her neck and leading the drop. She plummeted to the earth, landing by the dummy and looking around while the silencer seed echoed in the valley.

"Jo, set up the board, Grae check her vitals," she commanded. Raelle jumped into action with Josephine and rolled the dummy onto the board, standing on it. "We're set!" she called through the headset and they were lifted off the ground.

While her unit sisters cranked them up, a painful shot hit Collar in the arm, looking down at the white powder. She dropped her head back in annoyance, waiting until they were safely in the chopper before brushing it off. Wick sat in the co-pilot's spot, marking down their grade. She climbed through and sat down next to their unit leader.

"Perfect time, Private Collar, under a minute and currently the record. I'm taking points off for the wound, though. It should take two soldiers to strap up the wounded and one to defend them. Your final score is 40 out of 50"

"Thank you, ma'am," she nodded.

In a hushed tone, she asked, "Hey, Collar, where's your head at? You're usually a bit quicker on the mark."

"I apologize that I seem off, I'll be sure to defend my unit while they work."

Wick furrowed her brows and went back to the cockpit, leaving the unit alone. Raelle massaged her palm, then held it to her lips, resting until they landed. The unit removed their gear then made their way back to the fort.

"So, how did we do?" Josephine asked.

"40, but I should have defended you two while you worked. She said though, that we had the fastest time, so I believe we'll finish very well for the real test. How did you guys feel?"

"I'm glad you fixed my knot, the rope slipped and the board would have failed," she admitted.

"I honestly feel weird doing it on a dummy still, I want to perform it under real circumstances," Graeae added.

"That's a lot of pressure," Raelle corrected her. "I think we did a great job, we'll regroup after and have a little celebration, how does that sound?"

"I got the kush if any of you want to dip into it?"

"Okay," Laurielle chuckled.

"Awesome, come over to my room then!"

Raelle shook her head and continued down the road to the Shipton Barracks, departing to their various floors, Collar being the last on the fourth floor in an all too familiar room. Once her get-away during basic, the dorm was now a reminder of the love she lost to Alder and her goons. Memories still flashed of her first night with Scylla. She went over the moments, wondering why she was so keen on seeing her specifically. Raelle dressed down to her casual dress, a ratty black shirt with rolled-up sleeves and her colorless tactical pants. She approached the mirror and began to fix her cornrows, unbraiding them, and threading her hands through the strained strands.

A fog appeared over the mirror. Her name was scrawled in capital letters into the steam. Raelle wiped her hand across it to erase the letters, but another fresh layer of steam appeared and her name was redrawn onto it. She backed away from the glass, waiting for the mist to disappear, soon slipping back behind the door to join her old unit for supper. She massaged her forehead, thinning it to be some sort of bizarre fever dream or hallucination from the Salva. Raelle tossed her black tactical gloves on her bed and jogged down to the mess hall where her old unit was currently sitting, an open spot next to them.

"Thank goddess you're here, I have some bad news," Tally morbidly began. "Beltane's probably going to be canceled."

"Wait, I thought it was just going to be off base this year?" Abigail inquired. "Who said it was canceled?"

"General Clary told me in [class]-"

"Something was written on my mirror," Raelle interrupted.

"Nothing about what happened in basic, that was so long ago."

"No, nothing like that. Tally, you said that when you saw Scylla at the wedding, she was talking to a balloon in a mirror and it wrote on the mirror."

"Yes, do you think Scylla's mirror was a portal?"

"I don't know maybe… I'm just tired."

"Rae, you need to report it to your superior, to Wick."

"Yeah, I will, I'm gonna go to bed," she nodded.

"You didn't eat anything."

Abigail took the foil-wrapped subway, pushing it into her sister's hands. "Hey, you have to be careful, but if you need anything, we're here for you. We need to stick together, no matter what, okay?"

"Of course, I never forget," she smiled. "I'm gonna take down the mirror and report it. Thanks," Collar finished with a simple cheer with her food before heading back to her dorm.

Her heart pounded in her chest, it was a connection to the Spree, maybe they could get her in contact with Scylla again, or better yet, break her out. A week in that high-security prison was dangerous, ten months, and Raelle was just glad that the S in her palm kept appearing, but with the possibility to seek out help from her former leaders, maybe Collar could broker a deal with them.

With the door tightly locked, she stood before the mirror, hands outstretched while she jimmied it from its position on the wall. The mist appeared again which shocked her enough to drop the mirror, the glass shattering in its frame. One would think the army would have durable metal mirrors rather than these ratchet reflections.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered.

A message was still being scrawled across the shards, so Raelle bent down and began to carefully arrange the fractured pieces until the words were in order, a small smear of blood across the reflection.

"I hope you're still… oh my god," she choked out. Raelle covered her mouth, hand on the sarcastic phrase before tears began to stream down her face, "Yeah, I'm still sexy weird. Scylla?"

'The 1 & only'

"Oh my god," Collar sobbed, a giddy laugh between gasps of air. "Are you safe?"

'Yes,' they responded after a minute.

"I'm so sorry for what I said," she fervently apologized. "I love you, I still do. I don't know why I said the things I said-"

'It's ok, I understand.'

"I never stopped thinking about you, Scyl," Raelle dabbed the tears from her eyes then smiled at her partner's response.

'Have you been kicking ass in class?'

"Yeah, my unit's doing well, despite the circumstances."

'Camarilla?'

"Mmhm, but I know everything will work itself out."

'I have 3 min. left do you have another mirror?'

"I can get something."

'Good, I can teach this to you.'

"God, I was so scared you were hurt or worse, but when I saw your mark… sometimes it was the only thing getting me through the day. After I got injured, I thought I'd be better off dead, but… I love you."

'I love you, too.'

Raelle picked up the pieces, scrounging around for a box to hide the mirror. Once all tucked away, she pulled her gloves on and made her way to Leviolet's room.

Searching through her belongings, Raelle finally happened upon a small mirror on a stand. She went to the box of glass and arranged the pieces once more, awaiting Scylla's next message. It took a few more minutes, but as the second supper bell rang through the fort, words finally appeared in the mirror. Raelle kneeled over it with a bright smile.

"Hey, Scyl."

'Hey, did you find a mirror?'

"Yup, so how do I do this?"

'Stacc. Sd. 13 & Sd. 15. Draw ?.'

"Okay."

Raelle cleared her throat and began to rapidly switch between the two seed sounds, watching the mirror warp and bend to her voice until it seemed to melt and Scylla appeared on the other side. She couldn't believe her eyes. With long titian hair pulled back in a tucked french braid, the young dodger seemed to lose her composure and tear up at the sight of her love.

"I'm not gonna lie, I forgot how beautiful you were," she admitted with a slightly ashamed smile.

"You have red hair, how'd that happen?"

"A long and boring story, but I'm so glad to see you again."

A startling knock broke their reunion, Raelle hid the mirror under her bed and opened the door, saluting Colonel Wick who stood across the threshold.

"Private Collar, I heard you discovered Spree contraband."

"Oh, yes," she nodded, going to her closet to retrieve the shattered mirror. "I accidentally broke it and didn't know what to do with it."

The instructor nodded, taking the box of glass, "Thank you, Private. You should go eat something before it's all gone, I heard they're serving a specialty tonight."

"Oh, okay." She followed her teacher out of her room and down to the first landing.

"I must say that I am quite proud of how far you've come. When I initially met you, I had only heard of your powers, but you have proven yourself to be a more than capable witch and competent leader. One day you may become a general alongside the great Sarah Alder. You're truly a natural first responder. You have a bright future ahead of you if you stay the course. Have you figured out what's got you in your funk?"

"It's just… I'm still dealing with the loss of my mother and a dear loved one."

"I suggest you use that loss next unit as you will be paired with a Necro unit to learn how to deal with major injuries."

"I'll figure out how to fix it," she agreed, tearing away to join the other witches in the cafeteria. She found her spot by Tally and Abigail, instantly earning an arm slap from Craven. "Ow, why?"

"Why are you so late, I have more news about Beltane."

"News or rumors?"

"We're having Beltane on Pageant ground this year, so we get to leave! You know what that means!"

"You can have sex for the first time in a year?"

"Shut up… and yes, Biddies don't get to have fun. We can dress up for the occasion! So, I have some magazines we can choose our outfits from. Bring over your best clothes and we'll make the decision."

"Does this mean we're going to be matching?"

"Yeah!"

"As long as I don't have to wear a dress or skirt."

"We should wear High Atlantic fashion, umbacos are all the rage... like, Xhosa dresses?" Abigail suggested.

"Oh, eh, I don't know, sounds a bit boring," Tally shrugged off. "Okay, scarf down your food and meet in my dorm in fifteen."

They finished off their meals, Raelle going to her room and ripping out her suit from the previous Beltane along with a few dress shirts. She raced to the second floor to Craven's place, the door instantly opening.

"You Know everything, don't you?"

"Funny pun," she responded, sticking her tongue out. Once inside, Tally awkwardly phrased, "Hey, if you go to Beltane, do you think you'll find another partner?"

She hadn't thought about the slim chance, but it gave her pause before confirming, "I don't think so. I know Scylla was troubled, but I could never love another person nearly as much as I loved her. I'll just have fun, hopefully Byron'll be there, I haven't seen him in a hot second."

"Yo," Abigail greeted with an armful of dresses. "I got the goods, what did you bring?"

Their High Atlantic Princess tutted their clothes and displayed her outfits for them both to look upon. Tally pulled out a knee-length blue-grey Xhosan style dress with black and white lines. It garnered a simple design, but when worn, hugged her chest and waist before elegantly flaring out over her hips. They continued to search through the catalogs, pointing at various dresses, going through the mini-committee until they all agreed upon a modern dark muted blue dress that had long lace sleeves and a collar that came up around her neck. Finally, the unit went through the blazer section, finding civilian suits decorated with gold and silver decals over pastel bases. Raelle flipped through the section, really not wanting to spend any money until an ornate sports suit caught her eye. Zigzagged in gold, the muted blue suit was marked down from $219.99 to $150 and even less with a military discount.

"Ooh, I love it!" Tally exclaimed. "I can put the orders in and hopefully we'll get them soon!"

"I frickin' hope so, these are fucking sexy," Bellweather agreed.

"So, if you don't wanna see me dancin with somebody," the witches chanted at the back of the bus, definitely annoying their driver. Raelle played with the lapel of her suit, swinging her hips standing on her seat while Tally steadied her. Abigail joined her at the bridge, singing, "Aren't you the guy who tried to hurt me with the word 'goodbye'? Though it took some time to survive you. I'm better on the other side!" On the side, Josephine was passing around her edibles, looking up at her unit leader while Laurielle danced in her seat. They collectively squealed at the next song that came up.

"Wake up in the mornin' feelin' like P Diddy grab my glasses, I'm out the door, I'm 'bout to hit the city. Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of jack 'cause when I leave for the night I ain't coming back!"

To the driver's delight, they finally arrived at the Pageant grounds in time for the song to end. The excited witches filed off of the bus, Raelle and her sisters being last. Abigail kept the speaker on while they waited.

They danced their way to the entrance, where she sarcastically remarked, "I like girls, can I still take sausage?"

Abigail pinched the bridge of her nose at her words, responding, "Sa-sa-sa-sa-sausage."

"This is gonna be the best Beltane ever!" Tally giggled.

They split ways before the festivities. Being older, the witches got sloppy seconds from their sisters in basic. Some of the boys seemed completely wiped out while most others gave their subjects their full attention. As if drawn together by some other force, she felt a cold glass prod her in the back, turning to Byron who towered over her with a watermelon daiquiri. She accepted his offering and immediately hugged him.

"My beard!"

"My… My beard!"

"I'm so glad you're here! How have you been?"

"Great, better now that I found another person with my taste," he joked, taking a sip of his drink. "So this time I take it I won't have to push you to dance?"

"You might have to catch up with me," Raelle smirked as Tansey took her spot to officially announce Beltane for Fort Salem's students. She quickly finished off her drink and dragged Byron to the dance floor for the Reel. "Mm, come on!"

"I'm not finished!" he chortled, tossing the remainder of his cocktail back, kicking off his shoes as the pagan music began.

The pulsing drums and mystical woodwinds struck a chord within the young witches' primal urges. They all let go, and danced, switching partners in controlled chaos. Raelle released her grip on Byron's hand, then found Josephine in the mess and had a turn with her, her vibrant gunne sax dress fluttering with every twist and leap. The bagpipes formed a tidal wave of energy, every breath they took in line with his own while the drums encouraged their hearts to run rampant on the dance floor. A young man in scarlet took her waist, spinning her around and dipping her, his hand traveling up her chest and neck before releasing her to find another partner. She caught another witch in red, letting her grind up on her for a quick second, then taking her hand to spin her into Abigail's arms.

The music's once elegant melody took on a darker tone when the bass drummer took over, a moment for everyone to regain their senses and find another partner. The bass increased in tempo and intensity letting the anticipation build-up for their next partner. A hand crept across her hips in the soothing seconds. Instinct overpowered her senses, leaning into the stranger's grasp and whirling around, captivated by a set of mesmerizing blue eyes. Raelle instantly backed away from the trick. 'The hallucination,' she thought, and out of the mystical draw of the dance floor. She must have taken too much from Josephine's stash to be seeing Scylla before her.

A bell tolled from the stage as the band struck up with a jolly tone again, this time a cornett leading them. Raelle found herself getting dragged back out of the fray and to the center where her gloves were torn from her hands and tossed aside to finally make contact with the mirage. The bagpipes blared again to signal another tonal change, and thus a new partner. Raelle clung onto her, tugging her in by her hips to kiss her. Electricity tore through her core when their lips connected, but she soon released her hold only to be whisked away by another witch in yellow. Raelle kept searching the crowd, catching a glimpse of wild red hair through the openings. Raelle tore through the crowd to find her again. Crushed and shoved by her peers, she dove through small openings, wide eyes searching across the dance floor for her familiar features. A vice grip wrapped around her lapel and twirled her around, making her slip and land flat on her ass.

Raelle looked up again into those intense irises she had fallen for a year prior. Breathless, she gazed upon her partner's valiant pose, her short black dress swaying with the breeze under the afternoon sun. She quickly scrambled to her feet, attacking Scylla with another passionate kiss. Ramshorn stumbled back, taking a moment to draw her into the dark forest, away from the prying eyes of the military.

Collar gasped for air once again from the relentless assault of pecks and kisses against a dense tree in the oak grove. She felt pleasantly overwhelmed by her presence, trying to entrap her lips anytime she pulled away. Her heart pounded in her chest, blood pulsing through her body enough to stave off the cool weather.

Raelle finally relented and wrapped her arms around her waist then tucked her forehead against her neck, inhaling the slightly floral scent that sent a wave of relief through her buzzing head. Once she found her footing, she loosened her grip to regard Scylla's new look in the dark.

"Good God," she whispered as her partner attacked her once more with a series of breathtaking kisses.

Scylla wrapped her hands around her hips digging her fingers into her pelvis as she shoved her against the oak again. With deft fingers, she flicked open her partner's blazer and reached underneath to feel her delicate pale skin in her palm. Her heart fluttered with excitement at how putty Collar became in her hands with soft sighs against her lips at her actions. With her free hand, Scylla tugged open her black military issued tactical belt, struggling with the buckle until she loosened it enough to unbutton and unzip her trousers.

"Fuck," she chuckled in frustration.

Dipping beneath her suit pants, a nervous ball wadded up in Scylla's stomach at the instant contact with her partner's wet briefs. Fingers drenched even through the layer of clothing, she tracked them through her slick center, circling around her clit before rushing back through the grool.

The young soldier gripped tightly onto her shoulder, letting her girlfriend tip her head back against the tree for access to her neck. Soft nips and kisses against her neck intensified her arousal and once Scylla slipped her hand underneath her briefs, Raelle felt embarrassingly close to finishing. She groaned softly into the night air, her pounding heart making it harder to stand.

Ramshorn couldn't fend off the overwhelming power her partner exuded as every increasingly sensitive groan made the air between them electric. Her fingers slipped over Raelle's clit, rolling around the bundle of nerves still slick with grool. Collar gritted her teeth, her eyes squeezing shut at her teasing motion, a sharp flood of arousal overtaking her emotions when her partner pushed against her harder. She broke their kiss to tip her head back against the tree, her breath becoming steam in the chilled air around them.

Irrepressible passion boiled over into her orgasm, making her fingers dig deep into Scylla's shoulder blades and neck. Through pursed lips, the young witch let out a long low groan, her hips rolling against her hand, even though she was still sensitive.

Raelle relaxed against the tree, sliding down the rough bark. She looked up at her girlfriend and watched her kneel before her. Reaching out, the months of composure finally gave way to the mixed sorrow and relief she felt at seeing her. Tears cascaded down her cheeks and dropped to her bare chest. Scylla wrapped her arms around her, her own emotions getting to her, too. She chuckled through the tears and buried her face in her girlfriend's pale blonde hair, her floral perfume only slightly tainted by their sweaty Reel. They clung onto one another, shaking sobs and huffs cycled through their dwindling moments together.

Ramshorn finally pulled away, still holding her hands to soothe her as she explained, "It's confusing, but please believe me when I say that I was released by one of Alder's right hands. I've been the liaison between the Spree and one of your own."

"You're back with the Spree?"

"I'm trying to get my people to join Alder against the Camarilla," she mindlessly noted, occupied by Raelle's longer than usual fingernails. Her eyes drifted up to the scar over her heart and gently brushed her fingers over the uneven tissue."Did they do this to you?" Raelle pulled her hand away. Scylla pursed her lips through worried eyes, "They'll pay for what they did."

"Don't say that, don't say that. I'm tired of revenge, it festers and kills innocent people," she whispered.

"Don't you feel any bit of anger because of it?"

"Of course, but if we focus on revenge, we only fuel the Camarilla's anger," Raelle explained. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

Scylla respectfully nodded in response and brushed her lips against her scar before kissing her. Her partner responded in kind and unzipped her dress, letting it fall from her shoulders. In a controlled manifestation of passion, Collar bit her lip, pulling away when the dodger tried to nip her back. She stood up, hand held out for her partner to take, then pressed her against the tree. Raelle sank to her knees to tug the dress and spanx over her hips, letting them collect around her ankles.

She pushed herself back up, gawking at her pale skin under the moonlight as she recalled every freckle she kissed or traced in curious boredom after class. Her shimmering birthmark at the back of her neck that trickled sparse freckles across her scapula to her shoulders, stomach, then thighs. Raelle rubbed soothing circles over her witch mark and kissed her again. She missed these tender moments between them, cooling off in a moment of clarity before delving back into their intimacy.

"You're so beautiful," she murmured against her lips.

Collar kicked her feet further apart and sank to her knees. She glanced up at Scylla, carefully regarding her apprehensive glance. Her heart pounded in her chest with every inch closer to her, letting her hands glide up her thighs then track around her hips to relieve her nerves. Raelle firmly held onto the back of her legs and scooted close enough to wrap her mouth around her core.

The young Fixer sucked and rolled her tongue over her clit, glancing up when Scylla threaded her hand through her pale blonde hair. She pulled her girlfriend's leg over her shoulder and went deeper, evoking light moans from her. Raelle kept her balance with a firm hand gripping the bark and another keeping Scylla up as her knees began to lock up in anticipation.

"Rae," she gasped into the night, no request trailing after it.

Collar rubbed her hand up Scylla's spine, feeling the heaving gasps that reverberated through her body. A sudden bolt of energy charged through her as she heard her partner's lustful urgings over the ecstatic moans that wove and echoed in the dark forest.

Scylla ground against her tongue, the itching pleasure peeling away any sentiment of fear she harbored from their sudden rencontre. She reached down and clasped her hand over her partner's vice grip on her leg. Her heart pounded like a drum beneath her ribs, sucking in air through her teeth. Seething moans vibrated through her lips until she finally came, squeezing Raelle's hand as she tried to regain her balance.

"I love you," Collar admitted with chaste pecks against her thigh. She stood up again, leaning back against her again, pulling away at the warning toll of bells. "No," she choked out. "I don't want to lose you again." Raelle pulled Scylla into a vice embrace.

Ramshorn crossed her arms across her chest and tucked her head into the crook of her neck. "You don't have to, Rae."

"What do you mean?"

"... Come with me. Join the Spree and be free."

"No, I can't abandon my unit," she instantly answered. "But stay in contact with me, please. Keep trying for peace so I can see you again before I graduate." Raelle passionately kissed her again until the second tolling of the bell, commanding them to get dressed. "God, I love you more than I can even describe."

"Please, come with me then."

"I can't, Scyl."

"Okay," she whispered through a dashed tone. She dug through her dress pockets and pulled out a wooden combat charm, pinning it to her blazer. Scylla whispered a protective work over it. "Just promise me you'll come out on the other side. Go, Rae."

Collar looked down at the charm over her heart and kissed her again, unwilling to release her. With tears in her eyes, Scylla pushed her away and disappeared past the glades.