The visions in Lia's window flickered at the start, presenting a challenge as she tried to harness them. This set of memories was different than any of the others that had been shown before them. The fawn concentrated on channeling her powers, hoping to sharpen the noises in the darkness as best as she could. The sound of people talking could be heard as she filtered through the chain. In the abyss, the tone of one of the people resembled Cassandra.
She could hear parts of the conversation, but, whenever a particular name appeared to be spoken, the voices became muffled and distorted; virtually inaudible. The brunette turned her head to Lia, hoping she could provide an answer. "Why are they sounding like that?"
She squinted her brow and closed her eyes, breathing slowly. "I'm trying to dig deeper but…something is not right. Even though I was able to recover the last shred of these memories, it seems as if that part specifically has been wiped."
'Wiped?'
"What do you mean?" Cassandra asked.
"I mean that it is beyond my reach, no matter how hard I try. It is gone. I've…never seen anything like this before. Pieces of the chain appear to be deliberately removed. The precision is unnatural."
Cassandra felt her chest tear apart on the inside, knowing just what part of the memory had been erased from all existence. "Whoever they are; they sound like they are trying to talk to me. Is it…my name?"
Lia sighed with a breath of dread. "I believe so…"
I don't like any of this…
The fawn's fingers curled as her powers condensed, funneling the visions further into the window. The black void opened into a show of colors, and the first glimpse into the past could be seen. Cassandra swallowed her nerves as soon as she saw it.
She had to be ready – even though she had no clue what awaited her.
Village – November 4th, 1954
The young woman threw the door wide open as she stormed out of the tiny structure that she and her family called 'home.' Anger swelled in her heart, quelled slightly only by the sharp breeze of the cold air from the outside world. It stifled her nerves just enough to not scream. She had already had enough of arguing and now – she just wanted to escape.
She hoped that the presence of the other villagers would have deterred her mother from following along. But, as soon as her shoes touched the hard dirt, she could already hear the woman right behind her.
"Where are you going to go?" Her mother asked as her worried eyebrows pressed together.
"Anywhere but here!" Her daughter answered as she turned around. The two were squared off yet again. She was embarrassed to be seen doing this, wondering what the other villagers must have thought of her. It was not the first time they had witnessed this family fighting, but her feelings about it never changed. They only added to her aggravation in the end.
"Please, just come back inside," her mother begged with her hands. The argument that had just occurred had left the woman visibly upset. All she wanted was to have her daughter not be angry with her, but such an outcome did not look to be possible. "We can talk about this, please."
"No!" She waved her arms across her chest, glaring at her furiously. "I'm done! It's the same old conversation over and over!"
"…., please!" Her mother began to cry, having realized that their argument had spiraled past the point of no return. It stung her heart to see her child display such animosity as if the foundations of their relationship were no more.
Her father emerged from behind his wife. His dark hair contrasted with his short, greying beard. His wrinkled cheeks and stubbled neck were the signs of a man who spent his life working; adjusted to the harsh realities of this world. He was a strong fellow for his age, but the sight of his infuriated daughter brought an unnatural sadness to his eyes. He had seen her angry before, but today's fight was different – for all of them.
He spoke with a low but nurturing voice, hoping that it would persuade her to come back with them, "Look, just take a breath and relax, …., okay? Everything is going to be alright."
Her mother's eyes pushed a set of tears down her rounded cheeks as she listened to her husband pleading with their child. Using the end of the basmele that was wrapped around her head, she dried the tears as quickly as she could, but another set came out and took their place. It was a heartbreaking afternoon, and the scornful words of her daughter stayed fresh in her mind.
She did not want to believe them, but they had been spoken with so much fire. Part of her feared that it was the way she truly felt about her.
The young lady shook her head, ignoring her father's attempt to end this. "I'm not going back in with you two! Argh!" She clenched her fists and raised them to her chest. She wanted to explode at them again, but the presence of her neighbors and friends kept her at bay. Her parents could see just how much rage was inside her body at that moment.
Even her father, who was no stranger to conflict with others, winced at her display.
She huffed a loud breath, pressing her lips before flashing her teeth. "I'm not going to make a mockery of myself for everyone to see. But, if you are going to continue chasing me, I will put that choice aside. I've already told you two how I feel, now leave me alone!"
Her father stepped closer. He was an imposing man of above-average height and in the past, she had often turned away from him because of that very fact. It was not born out of fear of being struck, but by the impression that he was always against her. His stature matched her perception.
He spoke with a gentle voice, hoping she would re-think her course of action, "I'm not going to force you to stay, but can you please tell us where you are going to go?"
"That's none of your business…"
Her mother took a breath and lifted her soft hands to wipe her eyes. "My sweet, it is cold outside. We don't want to see you get sick."
"I'll be fine," she groaned, ready to turn away. At this point, she had had her fill of her parent's words. She wanted to run off, as far away from them as possible. The fury inside her chest was ready to erupt from her mouth, and she knew it was only a matter of time before it slipped out of her control.
"No, you won't," her mother said as she turned back into the house. Her daughter would have screamed right there and then, but seeing the woman leave pulled her from the ledge.
Her father glanced at his wife as she paced further into their tiny living room. The place was cluttered with their stocked-up supplies in preparation for the dreadful winter that was bound to happen. As she shifted through some of the boxes, he turned his head at the brunette, watching her stand there in her white dress.
It was the same dress he had purchased for her several years ago for her birthday. Money was always tight, and what little funds they did have went straight to necessities. Yet, that didn't stop him from wanting to see her beautiful smile light up on her special day. Even though she did not know it, he also received a gift.
The tears in her eyes and the grateful hug she gave him in return were one of his fondest memories as a father. Now, to see that same dress being worn while she degraded him hurt him deeply. He wanted to shed a tear, but he knew his daughter's heart was fragile.
"Please tell me where it is that you are off to," he begged her. "It is going to be dark later and you know that there is danger out there."
She rolled her eyes, making him feel like his words held no meaning. "There is danger everywhere, father. I am not going to let that keep me confined all my life. If the world is so bad, why did you have me? I am serious, think about that. What is the point of bringing someone into this life if everything about it is just so terrible? Maybe becoming parents was a bad idea."
Before he could answer, his wife popped out around the edge of the door with a wool coat in hand, holding it up to her daughter. "Please, take this." She gestured toward the garment with desperate eyes. "I would feel much better if –"
She snatched the coat out from her mother's hand in a mean swipe, immediately throwing it on the dirt once it cleared her hand. The middle-aged woman jolted back with a yelp as soon as it happened, but her shocked stare quickly went from the tossed clothing to the brunette, whose reaction was not over.
Her daughter stomped on the coat, eyes wide and brow pressed as she roared at the woman who had raised her, "I'd be much better if I was anywhere else! Argh! Just…stop! I am tired of all this!" She pointed her finger straight at her mother's face. "Your pathetic acts of 'kindness' don't change a damn thing! You cause me nothing but stress every single day. I do not want to hear it anymore! I just want to be away from you!"
The broken woman's voice cracked as more tears fell from her pink eyes, "But…I'm your mother…"
"And you couldn't be anyone else's? Why did it have to be me?!" She snapped back at her.
Her mother did not say another word, barely able to breathe. She covered her face at that very moment, wailing as she pushed past her husband and back into the house. The sound of her sorrows would still be heard in the furthest room, where she retreated to her bed to let out all the pain that had just been born.
Her old man glanced at her with parted lips. He had never looked so shocked in all his life. All he could do was shake his head slowly while keeping his eyes on hers. "Where did all this anger come from? What happened to our little girl?"
She kicked the coat across the dampened soil, smearing the side of it into a heavy brown. He did not even look down at it, and in return, she stared back at him. "Oh, I'm glad you finally asked. Why don't you spend the rest of the day figuring it out?"
She huffed one more time before she turned around and walked off toward the village square. If her father had any more words to say to her, she did not hear them. All she could concentrate on was putting as much distance between herself and that shanty little place they lived in. Her mind was clouded by contempt, which tunneled her vision, blurring everything and everyone around her.
The rush of blood propelled by aggravation warmed her skin, along with the fast pace of her strut. The brisk lashings of the air current against her thin gown would not prevail now. She was not dumb. She knew she should have at least taken the coat before she ran off.
But, that would mean she gave in – and that was the one thing that she couldn't do.
The young woman walked until she found herself at the center of the village, next to the Maiden of War statue that proudly stood at its center. She glanced momentarily at the large castle that overshadowed the entire settlement, briefly matching the stone warrior, who also faced the fortress. The towering structure had always been there; home to Lord Dimitrescu.
The ruler had only been in the village for a few years, as far as she knew. None of the villagers ever questioned Mother Miranda's decisions – at least in public. To place someone who wasn't born in the village, regardless of birthright, in a position of such importance seemed strange, but as far as she was concerned; it didn't matter. It was not her decision to make and that was that.
The only thing she cared about was the happenings in her own home – not the village itself.
Her eyes raised to gaze at the cloudy skies, wondering when the sun would ever come back through. This season of autumn had been harsher than normal, and she assumed that another rough winter was on the horizon. The orange and red leaves of the season dulled under the gloomy heavens, staining even the most vibrant of seasons with a somber glow.
She wished for sunnier days to lift her spirits. She could not understand how some of her neighbors kept their sanity in a place like this. People were happier during the warmer months, but that didn't put an end to their troubles. Not many questioned why it was forbidden to venture off. Even she herself didn't seem to be able to desire to leave at times, even when her emotions fought to escalate the concerns.
Maybe, she thought, it was the fight that she had just had with her parents that allowed her to think of such things right now. There had been many arguments in the last couple of weeks, some of which got in the way of normal routines. One argument had caused her family to miss out on one of Mother Miranda's distributions of medication, which aimed to prevent future diseases. The rest of her neighbors had gotten their injections, but she and her family missed out this time.
It seemed selfish in hindsight, but she had frequently told them to go on without her. She would rather stay inside and away from her folks. To her dismay, they were so determined to stay with her that they too missed out on it. Part of her was so upset at the time, that she almost hoped she would get sick and possibly pass away.
It was an extreme outcome, but not one unnatural for a person who was so wound up in their worst thoughts. They were suffocating her, and she needed space. Hopefully, she would find it here.
At this square. At this statue.
She sighed into her hands, trying to warm them up as the heat evaporated from her fingertips. Her long, wavy brunette hair flowed back and forth as she shook her head. She knew she should have grabbed some gloves along the way. Her gown covered most of her body, but her neck and collar were chilled by the open air. She wished she had grabbed something to tie around herself at the very least.
As much as she hated to admit it – her mother was right about the temperature.
Whatever, she thought, it did not matter. She'd rather freeze right now than be in that house.
"What are you doing outside like this?" The sound of a familiar voice called out to her from across the square. She glanced up, searching past some of the villagers to find the source of the feminine tone. Sure enough, her friend Olivia was already making her way to her before she could respond.
With another sigh and a flick of her hair, the brunette stood beside the statue with her arms crossed and her shoulders raised. Her eyes floated along the ground in an almost sheepish manner, knowing that her friend was about to press her for the truth.
"Hey, …., talk to me," Olivia said with genuine care in her stare. "You look upset. What happened?" The girl was always so well-aware of how she was. There was never any success in trying to hide it. Years of friendship had proven that time and time again.
The young lady kept her bare hands tucked under her armpits, hoping the isolation from the wind would be enough to warm them. She briefly shut her eyes, casting a soft half-smile at her friend that only lasted for so long. "Yes, I'm…no, I'm not okay," she confessed, withdrawing her arms to run her hands down her nose. "My parents and I had another fight. This one was bad."
Olivia's inquisitive glare dropped to a saddened slump. She had hoped that things would have gotten better for her friend, but sadly, it seemed as if those days were so far away. She did not say anything at first. The response instead came in the form of her removing her own coat to hand to her.
The woman refused, waving it away with a low voice, "Don't. That's yours."
"You look so cold." Olivia grew anxious, still holding the frock out for her to take. "I can see it on your skin."
"I'll be alright, I can deal with it. I don't want you to suffer. Please, put it back on."
With hesitation, Olivia threw the coat back on her body, knowing that she would stay warm, but her friend would not. "At least come back with me to my house. We have a small fire going. I can make you something to eat while you rest."
"I just…" She looked up at the sky again. "I need some time outside. Just for right now, please."
Olivia nodded and joined her by her side, understanding that this is what her friend wanted. She hoped that she would change her mind soon, but until then, she needed to be there for her. "Okay, but, if you're not going back home, promise me that you'll at least stay with me."
"I promise," she finally smiled.
"Good." Olivia moved closer, hoping that the heat that radiated off her body would help to some degree. The two ladies held their place beside the statue, watching the rest of the villagers as they went about their day. Some were moving wheelbarrows full of crops or dirt. Others were working on repairs, and some were doing construction. A group of children could be heard running around, and a few young men were seen tending to the livestock.
Everyone looked like they were having a normal day. That was when she got to thinking; was this a normal day for her?
She had been fighting with her parents so frequently that nowadays, it seemed like it was a daily task. She hated to imagine that was what things had regressed to, but with no resolution in sight, it seemed like it was destined to be the norm. She rested her back against the statue, only to pull away once the searing cold of the stone tried to suck the heat out of her through her thin garments.
Olivia moved closer, now standing right against her. The woman did not protest. The source of warmth was comforting. She gravitated toward it, leaving not a single gap between their arms. It was wonderful to have a friend like her, the brunette thought.
"So…" Olivia asked as she played with her golden-brown hair. "What happened? What started it?"
The brunette shrugged her shoulder. "Same thing as always, I guess. Mother keeps complaining about this and that, telling me what I must do when I go out. She is always over my shoulder, as if I don't know how to do anything. She treats me like a child! Ugh!" She was about to tense up, but Olivia's hand on her shoulder caught her attention.
"My mother does the same thing for me," she reminded her.
"I know, but you have a big family. You have brothers and sisters. All my parents have is me now."
Olivia's eyes fell. "Look, …., I have said this before, and I'll say it again: you can't blame them for holding on to the only daughter that they have left. If my parents lost any of their children, they would be devastated, and they wouldn't want to see the same thing happen to the ones they still have."
"You told me that a million times, Olivia…"
"So, what is going on then? It isn't just that, is it?"
She groaned, mostly to herself. Her eyes shifted to the young, soft-faced girl who stood an inch or two shorter than her. Even while she was a bit younger, the girl was like an older sister to her. She can't simply shut her away. There needed to be honesty between them.
"I'm just tired of being reminded about what happened. My mother cannot let it go, and she keeps bringing me into it. Father keeps to himself more than anything, and he doesn't talk to me as much. I can see the difference, but when he does try and talk, it is always about her."
She kicked the statue with the back of her heel. A sharp breath coughed from her mouth, forming a short-lived cloud in front of her face. Olivia could already hear her voice cracking.
"I…" She stopped as soon as her throat choked up, only to try again, but as she did, her tone spiraled down as she began to cry. "I miss her so much. She was my little sister and I lost that too. Sometimes, as bad as it sounds, I just want to forget. It's been two years, and it still feels like the day after it happened. Mother is always crying. Father can't bring himself to move any of her things. I tried doing it myself, but I never follow through with it. I just drop everything and leave the room."
She covered her nose and mouth, letting the tears trail down her pink knuckles. "It's like she is still living with us and at any moment, she is going to walk through that door. I sometimes go into our room and expect that she is going to be right there, knitting some clothes, or working on some craft. Every time I try shutting it out, my parents are there to remind me that I'm their last child. I'm the one last thing that they can't afford to lose. I just want to put all the pain away, stuff it in a drawer and lock it. But, then they come and dump everything out of that drawer and right back into my hands. None of them get it."
She tilted her head toward the sky, fighting to pull the next fill of her lungs in. Whimpers trickled out her mouth before she turned her tearful eyes toward her friend. "My sister and I fought right before she ran out of the house. She made me so angry, and I said some awful things to her. My parents don't understand how guilty I feel because I caused –"
"Stop." Olivia hugged her tight, her mouth pressed against the brunette's ear, whispering into her soul, "Stop thinking like that, ….. None of what happened was your fault. Families fight, it happens. But, the pain you feel is the love you had for her. You can't run away from it because you can't let go of love."
"I just want to deal with it my way," she said, almost as if she was pleading with her friend to allow her to not take the harder path.
"Everyone deals with things their own way, but no one who loves someone would let them suffer," Olivia said as she caressed her back. "Your parents may not be making it easy for you, but it is not easy for them, either. They lost a daughter. Have any of you really sat down and talked about what happened?"
"Barely. Father either stays silent, or mother gets too emotional. I get overwhelmed and walk away. We tried to in the beginning, but nothing happened. Now, it's just the same thing again and again. I can't bring myself to handle the bulk of it because I'm going to have to re-live it."
"You're re-living it every day, don't you see?"
The brunette's breathing paused for a second or two as the gravity of those words took hold. They couldn't have been more truthful. Whether or not she finally addressed it with her parents, the remorse for her sister's passing would always be there. She was so afraid of facing it that she allowed the damage to multiply beyond her control. She so desperately wished it could disappear, but it could never go away.
It would always be the shadow of the love she and her sibling shared.
Nothing could fill it because nothing could replace her.
Her friend pulled away, just enough to look her in her eyes. "Go back home to your family. Have that conversation. It's going to be the hardest thing that you've ever done, but you have to face it. You can't live a lifetime running from what you are afraid of. It will always be following you and when you finally give up – it catches up to you. That's when you realize it was always right behind you the whole time."
She did not remove her hand from her face, fearful that her friend would see her in such a vulnerable position. She wanted to seem strong like she always was, but with everything that had been said to her, she could hardly keep up the act. Olivia gently took her by the wrist, slowly prying her hand away. All that she could see behind it were the shuddering lips of a broken woman.
"You're the strongest woman that I've ever known, and you're only going to get stronger."
She smiled, wrapping her arms around Olivia's back. "Thanks." She hugged her, resting her head alongside her neck. They stay locked for a couple of seconds before she pulled away. "I don't like the person I'm becoming. Something must change. I can't live like this forever."
"You don't have to do it alone. I can go with you if you need."
"I appreciate it, but, I'll do it by myself. I need to learn how to deal with these things."
Her friend looked somewhat disappointed, but a symbol of reassurance crossed her mind, which took away any dismay to be had. "As long as you promise that you will, I'll be happy. You know how much promises mean to me."
A faint laugh suddenly whispered out from under the brunette's breath. "How could I forget?"
The girl leaned in, playfully narrowing her eyes at her. "So, what will it be, then?"
"I promise," she with a smile.
"Good," Olivia smiled back.
"I'm thankful to have a friend such as you."
"Me as well."
The brunette's eyes stayed locked on hers. Lost in the moment, her cold hand lifted to cup Olivia's cheek. Something about it made her want to touch it. With a friendly grin, her friend turned her head away. "Your hand is freezing," she laughed.
It was enough to break her out of her train of thought. "Oh, sorry about that! I guess I really should have gotten some gloves."
"You probably should have," Olivia said. "But, you'll be warmer once you get home. Do you want me to at least walk you back home?"
"Sure. But…I think I'll take another minute or two out here before I go back. I want to enjoy some fresh air for now, and I'm sure my family could use some time to settle down. I can start thinking about what I will say to them when we get there."
"Then please, at least wear my coat for now."
She declined the offer again, "You hold onto it. I'll be alright for now."
Olivia sighed before she gave a small nod. "Always so stubborn, aren't you, ….?"
With a tiny grin, the brunette tilted her head at her. "And you love me, do you not?"
"Of course I do!" She hugged her one, final time. "You're my best friend! I have to put up with all your stubbornness, but it's worth it."
The brunette felt herself get lost in the moment yet again. She wanted the hug to last longer, but before she could soak in the embrace, Olivia's arms broke free and she gestured toward the direction of her home.
"I'm going to grab you a coat while you sit out here. Whether you go home or not, it is cold. I don't want to see you get sick."
"Fine," she said. "I'll be here when you return. Thanks again."
"Anytime! I'll be right back!" Olivia shouted as she hurried off to her home. Watching her as she went away, the young woman could not take her eyes off her. All that she could think about right now was the moment they just had when they were together. Something about her friend's honey-brown eyes and short, but rounded lips stole her mind.
She had thoughts about them before, but she never contemplated doing anything about it. It was only when their faces were inches apart did the image of them truly come into play. She lost herself for a second or two, not even realizing where her hand had gone.
Standing there by herself, with nothing but the shivering air surrounding her, she thought about what it would be like if her friend had the same feelings as well. Olivia had been a perfect friend to her, and she did not want to risk anything about their friendship, but the strange thoughts she had would not go away. Part of her figured that it would be best to put them all away, just like the memories of her sister. However, in the end, she knew forgetting those things was impossible.
She could only hope that if she ever found the strength to delve deeper into those thoughts, the result would be worth the fight. If she could only –
"You look cold," a confidant said from the side. She turned around immediately, seeing the tall, blonde prophet standing right beside her. The woman's sharp smile gleamed as she fixated her eyes on her.
"Mother Miranda?" The brunette suddenly realized she had yet to render a proper greeting. Just as she knelt, the woman commanded her to her feet.
"Rise. Your devotion is already known. Please, come with me. As I said, you look cold."
"Thank you, Mother Miranda, but my friend is already on her way back with a coat for me. Also, I plan to go back home to see my parents, so I will not be outside much longer."
Despite her argument, Miranda's smile did not subside. The priestess stepped closer to the villager, placing her hands upon her shoulders. The ornate jewelry that adorned her fingers tapped against the brunette's bones, signifying the authority that she carried. There was a stream of nervousness that flooded the young lady's body, as no one in their right mind would ever go against any of Miranda's orders.
She did not want to be the first.
Through her mask, Miranda's eyes could be seen glaring at her with purpose. "I tend to my flock, dear child. As a faithful shepherd, I cannot allow any of the lambs to suffer. As the Black God watches over me, so shall I watch over you. How can I prove my devotion to it if I cannot prove my devotion to you? Now, please, come with me. Your friend will understand."
She nodded, trusting the woman that had taken care of the village since before she was born. "Yes, Mother Miranda."
She had never been inside the walls of Castle Dimitrescu before. The sheer magnitude of the entire building was greater than anything else she had ever witnessed. The vast hallways and wide-open rooms and the quality of them were leaps and bounds above those of any of the village homes. She understood nobility, having been told that there was a hierarchy of people in this world, and that commanded a higher quality of living.
Still – there was a part of her that questioned why one person needed this massive castle when everyone else lived in squalor.
Bloodlines aside, she could not find a reason why besides Mother Miranda's wishes.
Ever since they entered, Miranda had remained quiet. The woman merely walked ahead, expecting the one behind her to follow along through the hallways and corridors. The brunette occasionally asked about the various fixtures around the castle, from the many pieces of furniture in the rooms to some of the portraits that hung on the walls. All the prophet would do was either not respond or merely inform her that she did not have a concern.
Mother Miranda was not the most sociable person. While the woman often preached in front of the entire village and dealt with many of its people at once, she often would not spend much time with them individually. The brunette could not even recall the last time she witnessed her walking around the village grounds. She was an often-unseen force that only appeared when needed, though her influence was great.
Those qualities brought up a small question as to whether Miranda was as transparent with the villagers as she said she was. That question, however, soon faded as soon as Lady Dimitrescu appeared out of the door on the other end of the second-floor hallway.
Standing a little over six feet tall, Lord Dimitrescu wore her signature white gown and sported a wide, black-brimmed hat at equaled the width of her shoulders. As soon as she laid eyes on the woman behind Mother Miranda, her face lit up.
"Ah!" She exclaimed. "Just the girl I wanted to see!"
The young woman had no idea why Lord Dimitrescu would have been so ecstatic about her presence. She had never interacted with the ruler of the castle before. Alcina often stayed inside when matters with Mother Miranda were not at hand. Whenever she did venture out, her encounters with the villagers were less than kind.
She was very vocal about not wanting to converse with them. The way the middle-aged woman's pale face grimaced at the sight of the dirtied workers spoke well of how she viewed them. Sure, she was from nobility, and noble people had no business with manual labor, but that kind of face could not be forgotten. It was almost as if she was displeased that Miranda had her be there at all. Her respect for the prophet was great, and there was never any question about that.
But, for a prophet who said that she "loved every one of the Black God's children," Miranda had picked someone who seemed without love in her heart to oversee them.
The brunette bowed her head. "Good afternoon, Lord Dimitrescu."
"Good afternoon," she replied, eyes turning to Miranda, who approached her just a few feet away from the door where Alcina had emerged from.
"Dimitrescu, see this girl to your care. I will return shortly."
Lord Dimitrescu nodded without hesitation. "Yes, Mother Miranda."
The prophet began to step away, walking past the brunette who was left face-to-face with the lady of the castle. Nervousness crept up inside her chest. She did not know how long she was going to be here and worried that her family would not be informed within a reasonable time. The last thing she wanted was to have her mother and father panicking about her.
She turned around to speak to Mother Miranda, but as soon as she did, the woman was gone. There was not a single trace of her to be seen in the long hallway. It would have been impossible for her to disappear so quickly, which left the brunette scouring every inch of the area with her eyes before the voice of the village lord brought her back around.
"Come in, child."
"Yes, Lord Dimitrescu." She entered without resistance, but she would be lying to herself if she thought she wasn't scared. Nothing had been explained to her, and even though she trusted Mother Miranda, she did not trust Lord Dimitrescu too much. Part of her wished that she had left with Olivia to go back home. If she had, then maybe Mother Miranda would not have encountered her in time.
It was a big what-if, and such possibilities were useless as she was here now. There was no point in dwelling on what could have happened.
Upon entering the room, she was immediately met with the sight of two other women from the village: a blonde and a redhead. Both ladies glanced at her in unison before looking at each other. There were no words to be said, but the redhead seemed to carry a hint of nervousness too. The blonde, on the other hand, appeared more composed and confident about being there.
The brunette kept her mouth shut as she was led to the two other women. Alcina pointed to a spot on the ground, next to the blonde's right. As soon as she stood there, the village lord took her place in front of them, looking at each woman as if she were inspecting them. The trio remained silent, watching as the woman squinted her eyes, seemingly looking for anything that was wrong with them.
"I must admit I was worried that I was too confident in the beginning, but now, I feel you all are the perfect ones."
The brunette raised her brow, unsure of what she meant by that. She wanted to open her mouth and ask what was going on, but the fear that was growing inside her heart kept her tongue at bay. She did not want to change the situation into something that it did not have to be. If she trusted Miranda, then she could hopefully trust Dimitrescu, right?
Only, she was starting to not trust Mother Miranda. Something about the woman was off, and despite the way everyone in the village was so devoted to her, there was a part of the brunette that sounded the alarm inside. She always held her reservations about the lives they lived. Something about the absolute control the prophet held over the region was scary. She could not resign herself to feeling comfortable when people would occasionally disappear without much concern from the priestess.
It made her remember how distraught her parents had acted when her sister's body was found discarded in the reservoir. While it came off as a tragic accident, the anguish they felt after her loss was tremendous. They were never the same after that, but Miranda carried on, just like she did after all the others.
Mother Miranda told the villagers how much she loved them, again and again, but unlike her parents, she never flinched after something terrible happened to them.
The brunette began to wonder why nobody asked questions. She always pondered the circumstances of her sister's death, knowing the girl was not an avid swimmer. Most of all, the stories of a monster in the reservoir should have kept her away. Even the fishermen that frequented the area were not without concern every time they hopped on their boats. Why would she have disappeared during the middle of the day one summer to go over there?
The questions suddenly started to bubble in her head and the two other women could see that something wasn't sitting right with her. The redhead peered over, brows raised and eyes narrow. Caution littered her mind as she stared at the brunette. The blonde began to turn her eyes to the girl on her left but decided to keep them straight on Lord Dimitrescu in respect.
With a small voice, the redhead turned to address the lord, "Lord Dimitrescu, what is it that you desire?"
Somewhat surprised at the redhead's sudden question, Alcina's initially stiff posture soon reverted to a softer pose. She paced around the room slowly, not taking her eyes off any of the women. "My desires in this world are subjective, dear child. One could look at this castle my ancestors built and say that I have everything in the world."
The brunette finally spoke, "Do you?"
Alcina stopped in her place, glaring at her with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Hmm, I'd disagree. It is not a question of whether or not I have enough."
It was a strange response that was shrouded in riddles. A common folk such as herself would not dare press the matter any further, but she picked up on the subtly of the lord's statement. She did not go into detail, but it was as if she herself believed the question had been answered in its entirety.
The blonde at the center of the trio remained quiet, unwilling to partake in any of the questionings of the lord's motives. The brunette glanced at her one more time before her eyes fell on the redhead who returned the same gesture. The youngest woman breathed a long breath before cupping her hands and speaking to Lord Dimitrescu once more.
"My boyfriend might get concerned about me if I am gone for too long. Is it possible that I can –"
Alcina quickly cut her off with a harsh tone, "What? A boyfriend? Have you laid with him?"
"What?" The redhead asked, confused.
Alcina seemed unnaturally irritated at the drop of a hat. "Your boyfriend; have you and him shared intimacy together? Are you a virgin?"
The redhead, the youngest of the trio, was growing incredibly anxious. "No! I mean, yes! I –"
"Explain!" Alcina shouted, causing all three of the women to jolt. The redhead vigorously began to shake, fearful that she was now in danger.
"I have never shared my body with him! He has asked but I declined every single time. I wish to wait until marriage!"
Alcina sighed and shook her head. "Ugh…men…"
The interaction was nothing short of concerning, and the brunette began to wonder why virginity was such a big concern for Lord Dimitrescu in regard to them. Mother Miranda had forbidden the villagers from sleeping with one another before marriage, but that did not mean the rules were always followed by the younger crowd. Such matters were often dealt with by their parents, and that begged the question as to why Alcina had been so concerned.
She thought about her own virginity, which she too had kept all these years. Why did it matter?
"That relationship you have with that man is over," Alcina stated, much to the redhead's confusion and alarm. The lady of the castle glared at the other two women with the same fierce look. "What about you? Have any of you ladies allowed a man to desecrate your bodies?"
The blonde immediately responded, "No, Lord Dimitrescu."
The brunette took a breath before shaking her head in a short radius. "No, Lord Dimitrescu."
"Hmm…are you sure?"
The brunette's heart tightened when she realized that the woman's eyes were not firmly affixed to her. She had never had sex before, so why was she being singled out? "Yes, Lord Dimitrescu. I have never laid with a man, or anyone for that matter."
Alcina's eyes trickled down to the woman's legs. "Lift up your gown so that I may see."
"What?" A response she wished she had not said.
"Did you just question me?" Alcina's teeth flashed. In an instant, the woman had become engulfed in a vicious rage. "I will not be questioned in my own castle! How dare you?! Do as I say, when I say it!"
The redhead looked just as scared as the brunette did. She cradled her arms together, the only way to contain her fears. "What are we here for?"
The blonde was quick to step in and try to calm her down. "Shh…it's okay. We must trust in what Mother Miranda and her lords want from us."
The redhead glanced over at the brunette as soon as she was told that. Her eyes then snapped to an angry Alcina. She had heard the same things as the other women did throughout the years. They were always reminded how much the village lords cared about them, and how their orders were to be followed. But, that did nothing to stop the natural urge to flee from danger.
And the sense of danger was growing higher by the second.
Alcina raised her arm at the other women. "Quiet! No more talking!" Suddenly, her nails extended from her fingers in a display of sword-like talons. The sharp tips pierced the air with a metallic ring, causing all the women's eyes to grow wide. The blonde held her place, but the redhead had now grown too afraid.
"Please," the youngest girl cried out. "I don't want to be here!"
Alcina could see the lack of control that she held over two of them and decided that she needed to quell such ambitions. She stepped forward, approaching the redhead. The girl quickly turned away to run but Alcina's claws swiped down by her left side. It was not an attempt to kill her, but to corral her from reaching the exit. The redhead jumped with a sharp yelp as soon as she saw the talons cut appear within inches of her. She stumbled on her foot before losing all her balance. An attempt was made to catch herself on the ground, but before she could, a hard force struck her on the corner of her head. After that – it was lights out.
The blonde shuddered as soon as she heard the commotion, knowing that something terrible had just taken place. Nevertheless, she maintained her stance, loyal to everything that she had known. She wouldn't dare cross Lord Dimitrescu, and that wasn't going to change now.
The brunette, on the other hand, watched in horror as the redhead twitched on the floor; a small trickle of blood coming out from where her head had struck the dresser on her way down. She wasn't dead, but she wasn't in good condition. The girl needed medical treatment, but from the look on Alcina's face, it seemed as if she was a broken toy – rather than an injured human being.
She retracted her claws at once and balled her fists, snapping her head in the brunette's direction. "Argh! Look what you've done! This is your fault!"
Fear took hold. She knew that this was not a safe place to be. She had to run.
Speeding away, the brunette made a break for the exit, bursting out into the hall as fast as she could. The furious growls of the village lord could be heard from behind her, shouting for her to return at once. The young woman could not look back. The only thing she could do was focus on the best way to get out of this castle. She did not know the layout one bit, but the entrance had to be close by, she thought.
Time was fluid with no discernable pattern. The seconds either went by in a blink, or they stretched on for hours. There was no way to mark just how long she had been running, but by the time she rounded the corner of the hall, her heart rate became just the same.
Mother Miranda stood before her; the woman's face was adorned with a sadistic expression of amusement. "Where are you going, little one?"
"Mother Miranda, please, help me!"
"No." Her voice was firm before elevating into a somewhat joyous tone. "It is your turn to help me."
The brunette slowly paced backward, fearful of what was going to happen to her. "What do you mean? Please, let me out of here."
"Hmm…do you not have faith in me, my child?"
The woman's frantic eyes shifted all around, even at the windows. For a second, she contemplated jumping out so she could be spared whatever fate lay ahead of her. Hesitation was what got her, as while death sounded preferable, everything that she held onto near and dear in this world could not be tossed away. It all seemed so futile now, but for once, she had faith that there was something out there for her.
It was a faith that came too late, as that moment of reflection cost the woman her freedom. Before she knew it, Mother Miranda had suddenly disappeared and shifted behind her. With a firm grab of the arm, the brunette was thrown onto the ground and subsequently dragged back to the room that she had just escaped from. Kicking and screaming for her life, she fought until the very end. Her voice echoed throughout the empty hall, where no one would help her.
"No! Let me go! Please! I don't want to go back in there!"
Ignoring the villager's pleas for mercy, Miranda's voice remained casual as ever when she addressed Alcina, who had emerged from the room where everything had transpired, "I can only hope that they are more faithful going forward. Something tells me she is not the only one in that settlement who would act like this."
Alcina peered down at the woman being brought to her. Her attention went back to the redhead who was still lying on the floor unconscious, and to the blonde who stood without objection, despite the distress in her eyes. It brought along an uncertain future, as she began to worry about what it meant for her plans going forward.
Miranda picked up on the expression. "Dimitrescu, understand that this is a gift. Gifts are not to be bargained for."
Alcina nodded. "Yes, Mother Miranda. I'm only hoping that everything goes according to plan."
"Do you doubt me?"
"Never."
"Good. Remember why you have this castle. Remember why you are about to receive what you have asked me for. Faith and trust are what will bring us to salvation." Miranda then looked down to lock eyes with the young woman below her, whose face froze with terror at the sinister eyes that stared through the bird mask. "I expect you will teach these ladies well."
A cloud of black overtook her. The cawing of crows was the last sound that she heard. She did not register the needle. She was not sure what exactly took place in that crucial second. It all happened too quickly. All she was sure of was that her body lost all its strength in a near instant. Her vision faded to black and her consciousness lasted a couple of seconds after. Those were the last things she would remember of the world – and the life – that she once knew.
All three women had been sedated and prepped for surgery. Alcina stood by as Miranda prepared the three cadou jars, awaiting the next step in the process. The sides of their heads had been shaven by the prophet, albeit crudely. Dimitrescu wanted to preserve their hair, but Miranda had informed her previously that the cadou had to go into the brain.
The parasite could not burrow too deeply into a subject's body. Once it was set, it often held its place and attached to whatever it could grab ahold of. As such, the placement of the cadou was crucial, especially when they were created with such special qualities. Alcina had requested the back of the skull to be opened, but there was no workaround.
It had to be the left or right front – no objections.
Anything else, and the three girls would likely die, or transform into another failed specimen.
She had to trust Miranda's word. After all the scouting, no other girls in the village called to her like these three. The way the looked and spoke reminded Alcina of herself during her earlier years. She also wanted ladies who embodied the highest standards of beauty. While Miranda had no concern for their appearance, she respected Alcina's requests. Now, the three most beautiful young women in the entire village were hers.
A ruined head of hair was a small price to pay.
Miranda set the redhead down on Alcina's bed as she opened the cadou jar. The brunette and blonde, still unconscious, were seated on a set of chairs on the other side of the room. The girl's heads had been tattooed, as Alcina stated that she wanted them to be marked with the symbol of a rose, blossoming into a new life.
She also wanted them to all be unified, carrying the same mark. The mark of ownership.
Miranda had cleaned up the blood from the redhead's injury and took notice of a soft spot on her skull. "I'm starting with her first. I would not be surprised if that fall has any lasting effects on her. Often, subjects with prior injuries tended to not fare so well, one way or another."
Alcina gritted her teeth as she glanced at the brunette who had inspired such chaos. She wanted to slit her throat for having introduced such detriment to what should have been a straightforward procedure after months of planning. The experiment was still worth a shot, and the lord took comfort in the fact that the soul of the woman she had dealt with an hour ago would be gone soon.
"If anything goes wrong, at least I'll still have two daughters," she replied.
"The sooner we start, the better. Brain injuries only get worse as time is allowed to pass. I'm confident we can stem the damage right here." She hovered her hand over the redhead's temple, feeling for the best position to start. Miranda had dissected enough bodies in her day to have the best impression of where the parasite would go.
Alcina turned her thoughts to the cadou. "Mother Miranda, I just wanted to double-check that these cadou have been imprinted according to plan."
Miranda did not spare Alcina much of a glance as she traced her forefinger along the redhead's skull. "You said you wanted them to be as obedient as possible, correct?"
"Yes, Mother Miranda. I want them to obey my every command, as any daughter should do for their mother."
"I've taken care of that, already, my child."
Alcina grew a little more anxious. "I also wanted to make sure that they will never question their new lives or any indication of this. I want them to have their own personalities, but I don't want them putting their minds toward why –"
"Cognition control procedures have been applied," Miranda stopped her, growing somewhat annoyed. "Dimitrescu, I've ensured none of these women will remember anything about their lives before this day. They will respect you. They will obey you. They will not think about anything else but you. Their loyalty lies with you and your house. You have nothing to fear."
With a breath of relief, Alcina bowed as she nodded. "Thank you so much for your patience with me, Mother Miranda. Forgive me. I have always wanted daughters."
Miranda paused as she stared down at the woman below her, peeking at the other two nearby. She knew all too well the need to love and protect a child. It was the only reason why she was able to sympathize with Alcina in this matter. While it paved the way for her to try new things with the cadou in the hopes of discovering a suitable vessel to bring back Eva, she found some interest in making Alcina happy. It was a rare gesture of kindness, though not one without a counterweight of greed.
If anyone of these girls proved to be the perfect vessel for Eva, Alcina would be history.
"All is forgiven, my child. Now, let us begin…"
Miranda placed her finger on the spot she needed, and with the impalement of a blade, she carved a small opening into the redhead's temple. Before much blood could drain out from the opening, the cadou was already in her hand and being brought over to the wound.
Alcina was quick to snap a photo, capturing a moment from time, just as each of those women had been captured from their lives. The photo would be placed inside a journal that would never be shown to them. A book of sin kept away in a drawer.
A drawer that resided in a castle of lies – as did the very same women who would soon call it home.
Eventually, the brunette was brought onto that bed to take her place amongst the rest. Her vision was still black, but her consciousness had remained in her sedated state. She still drew breath. Her heart still beat inside her chest. Her body had been numbed by the injection, and that numbness saved her from the pain of the forceful incision.
She would not feel the metal boring into her bone and brain, nor would she feel the cadou's tendrils reaching inside. The pressure placed against the walls of her skull as its large body squeezed through the small opening in her temple could not awaken her. She would stay out, even as it fused to her brain.
The numbness would last – until feeling greater than numbness took over.
A feeling beyond all feelings.
A feeling of no feelings.
Death.
The following days would be nothing but observation for Alcina and Miranda as the three women lay out on the bed. The small twitches and movements they were capable of in the beginning would quickly cease. The first fly to come out would spring from the blonde's mouth, signaling the start of the next process. It wasn't long before the flies multiplied in numbers and consumed their flesh down to the very last cell.
It was only then that the form of a human would be replaced by the flies entirely, which then began to reform into an image of that very same body. Each insect had consumed the DNA of the cadou's host, and as a hive, they each knew their place to reassemble.
It would be an unusual week in a castle that had seen death over and over again. Now, it had witnessed a rebirth.
As for the rest of the village, life carried on mostly as normal. The weather had grown slightly colder, and the signs of an impending winter had drawn closer. Snow would be covering the ground soon, and that meant venturing outside the village was only more dangerous. Lots of predators were known to prowl the forests, and nobody wanted to risk death. When three women failed to come home that night, people took notice, but to them, they felt it was anything but suspicious.
Young women hung out together, they thought.
Young women sometimes did reckless things, they were told.
Reckless things in a place such as this were fraught with consequences, they believed.
Unfortunately, for the families of the missing women, the initial cause for alarm died down after such explanations were suggested. As the preaching of the prophet continued, the only thing most of the villagers could think about were the times that lay ahead. They needed to band together to get through the winter.
Mother Miranda mentioned that she needed them to focus. The loss of a few paled against the loss of many, according to her.
Time went on, which meant the population of the village would eventually change. Some did not make it to an older age, for one reason or another. Others withered away as the inescapable hands of time came to collect their dues.
For a while, anyone walking past the Maiden of War statue stood a good chance of seeing a young woman with golden-brown hair standing at its base. She would wait there for an hour or two, sometimes more. In her hands was the coat that she had brought for her friend who said she would be there when she got back.
The friend she never saw again.
For a while…and then time went on…
Locwitary
Lia lowered her hand as the memory window faded away. The air was thick with a heavy truth, ready to suffocate anyone who breathed it in. Milo stood still with an expressionless face, as he was too shocked to even think about where he could begin.
The fawn, on the other hand, had released a set of tears during the viewing of Cassandra's true past. Those tears only fell further down her cheeks as she looked down at the broken woman those images had left in their wake.
"Cassandra…I…"
The brunette's quivering hands were nearly uncontrollable. Through a series of rattling breaths, she fought to get the words out through her teeth, "That is…not…my name…"
Lia's eyes fell as she sadly had to agree, though, she did not know how else to approach this. Cassandra looked like she was about to erupt, and rightfully so. The biggest concern, however, is whether or not she would be able to recover from such an act. "I'm here for you. We are all here for you."
She would not budge. The woman was still on the brink of a total mental collapse. She rocked back and forth, thoughts swarming through her mind. She wanted to reach into her skull and tear the damned parasite out from its roots. She wanted to throw it on the floor and stomp into oblivion.
She wanted to remove every fragment of the lie that Alcina had brought upon her.
"She lied to me. She lied to us all."
Milo was about to reach over to her, but Lia's eyes caught him before his hand could make contact. She looked at him, silently trying to tell him that it was best to not overwhelm her. The fawn took a breath and tried to find the best approach. She had never dealt with a reality such as this.
She never thought anything like it would have been possible.
Lia knelt beside her, though Cassandra would only look straight at the ground. The woman was breathing so heavily that she could barely speak. The fawn tried to run through all the options she had at her disposal, but nothing was guaranteed. She could heal physical wounds, but she couldn't influence thoughts or emotions.
"I need you to breathe," she said. The hyperventilating did not slow down. The more Cassandra thought about what happened to her, the more unstable she became.
"She took me…from my family." Cassandra continued to push tears through her compressed eyelids, squeezing them out one after another without fail. The woman's knuckles flashed to a hot white as she clenched her fists under her nose. She was about to break and everyone in the room knew it. "She…stole me."
Lia cleared her throat, debating on which words in her mind would be the best ones to say. In her softest, most comforting voice, she fought to rescue her from the tsunami of sorrow, "Listen to me: you are going to get through all of this, okay?"
Cassandra was so fixated on everything she had seen. It was like Lia's words were merely dust in the wind. "She made me…" Her repeated rocking picked up in speed. Her fists fell to her side, revealing her rageful teeth. "…into this!"
She stood up from the chair, faster than Lia or Milo could have ever expected. The fawn reared back as soon as it happened, watching as Cassandra picked up the chair with a loud scream that filled the massive room. Milo tried to stop her, but he wasn't quick enough. Her lungs pushed her pain out as she threw the chair where the window to her past had been. The piece of wooden furniture broke as soon as it struck the ground.
She wanted to curse Alcina's name and renounce all the love that she had ever had for her. She could wish her and Miranda's deaths were as painful as possible, hoping that Ethan Winters had spared them no violence during their battles. She could shout until her voice died, igniting every ounce of suffering that she had ever felt, giving each hateful thought the spotlight that they so desperately craved.
She wanted to do it all – but all she could do was cry.
Cassandra lost her stance, falling onto her knees and covering her face. She wailed into her palms, casting the sorrowful howls of a woman who had been shattered into a million pieces. There was no room for her anger. She had lived a lifetime with it.
A lifetime that was crafted for her as a person she was never meant to be.
It was the weakness that she felt in the aftermath of it all that took control. She cried for the family that she could not remember, knowing the way she had left them. The broken hearts that she would never mend, left with the impression that they were never good enough. She felt robbed of all the memories that she could have held on to. There had to have been brighter days, but she would never know them.
All of those were permanently scrubbed from her soul.
She would never know her real name. The only chance to reclaim a fragment of a past identity was forever lost. The name that she had lived under throughout all these decades was a lie, given to her by the very same woman who had stolen her. She had known Alcina as an extraordinarily cruel woman, but that kind of fate was the cruelest act of them all.
Now, she understood why the questions about their scars never came up. Why none of them ever wondered why they were born as adults. Why at a single command, they would be standing front and center before Alcina, ready to obey her every word.
They had been programmed to.
They were not daughters to the woman, as much as she likened them to be. They were pets.
She finally understood her desire to escape from that castle for a few hours and enjoy the outside world. Parts of her old personality were still there. She needed the fresh air to clear her mind. She hated the feeling of being confined. The overbearing eyes of others angered her. She had a hard time dealing with her problems, choosing to isolate herself instead. When she couldn't – she'd react with a harsh tongue, causing damage that she would later regret.
All those attributes carried over in death.
They were the only parts of her that remained.
She remembered how often Alcina had scolded her as if she was wrong when she was nothing more than a captive with nowhere to go. Trapped with the woman whose selfish choices caused her to live that life.
No, she thought. She was not just Alcina's pet.
She was her prisoner.
Her fists slammed against the stone floor. She buried her head between her arms, feeling Lia's wrapping around her. The sound of the fawn's voice is blurry beneath her own cries. There was no fighting back against the efforts, only more tears. She felt so weak. Every breath carried a sobbing scream that personified how victimized she felt. So torn and so violated.
She did not know how long it went on. She could not process time. The only thing that managed to break through the fog was the warm flash of Lia's hand when it cradled the top of her head. The fawn suddenly let out a loud grunt before a blue glow emanated from around her opposite hand.
Cassandra could tell that something else was happening, but what?
She opened her soddened eyes to see Lia directing her other arm to an open space. The powers that flowed through her veins barreled toward her fingers, channeling another window in front of them. Milo looked on from the side, unsure of what is about to be shown.
Even Lia's face was filled with uncertainty, but whatever she had felt, it had to be shared. The fawn grimaced as she peeked at Cassandra. "Something is there…it feels different."
The window's black void bloomed into an array of colors, before settling on what appeared to be the viewpoint of the very same woman who had taken Cassandra from her old life. The memories that Lia had touched were sparse, but there was no doubt that they were Alcina's. The collage of images spanned her final moments in Castle Dimitrescu, where she chased Ethan through the halls, turning into a vile creature and battling him on the top of the tower, and crashing to the floor below.
The memories played out as her vision crystallized and faded away, shattering apart as she died in her world.
Then – the unimaginable happened.
Lia's powers continued to funnel at the window, and the fawn's face was riddled with perplexment. She herself could not understand what was happening.
Milo stepped in, "What is it, Lia?"
"There's…something after…"
Cassandra's breathing finally slowed down. She turned around to face the window, watching it with every ounce of her attention.
What? What does she mean "there's more"?
The window had fallen into a deep black as soon as Alcina died, but then inexplicably, it began to turn into color again. The darkness inside gradually shifted into particles of light, bringing forth the scene of an assembling environment.
A grassy field. The same one Cassandra had arrived in.
Why…why am I seeing that?
She stopped moving, watching as the flickering view of Locwitary through what could only be Alcina's eyes was shown. The memories, while likely recent, barely showed much – but it was enough.
Alcina's bare arms could be seen from her perspective, pushing her body up from the ground; claws still in full swing. What happened next was a brief stumble before the window weaved into darkness. Another shot appeared, showing her swiping her right hand at something that was out of view. No sound could be heard, but whatever she was swiping at, she seemed to have missed. The fallen lord's gaze suddenly jolted toward the sky, capturing a glimpse of the Specter Moons veiled behind an array of clouds.
It cut to black again, flicking at a few flashes of the grass below her. It was the last memory that Lia can channel before she withdrew her energy. The window closed and Cassandra sat there with a still face. Her eyes were wider than ever and her mouth parted halfway.
She could not believe it.
Milo approached Lia, looking as nervous as ever. There was no doubt that the presence of such a monstrous woman in their realm startled him to no end. He appeared to be shaken up during the montage of everything Ethan seemed to have faced. The revelation of who Alcina truly was and what she did to Cassandra and the other two whom she victimized had not sat well with him.
The fawn shared the same sentiment, but the mere presence of Alcina brought concerns that stemmed far beyond what that monster's capabilities were. "Why couldn't I sense her?" Lia audibly muttered to herself.
Milo turned his head to where the window had been and looked back at Lia. "How recent are those memories?"
She shrugged her shoulders in the most unsure manner. This was something above even her knowledge. "I…I don't know. I could not sense them when I dug through Cassandra's mind. I…they must be recent."
Cassandra gulped as their words blurred around her. All she could think about was how the woman who had robbed her of everything she ever had was now finally in the same realm as her. She cared not for the science of it. She could only sort through what she would say – or do – once she encountered her.
Milo and Lia continued to converse, getting louder before the fawn shushed him and brought her fingers to her forehead. "Wait!" She yelled. "I'm searching for any signal that her arrival could have sent. The break must be there…" She paced around, all while Cassandra remained unchanged. Lia concentrated as hard as she could, pushing her mind to its limitations as she dug for a trace of Alcina's arrival.
It took a few dozen seconds before she stopped in her tracks, withdrawing her hands and rushing back to Milo. "I felt something! It is faint but it must be her!"
Cassandra jumped up from the ground and took Lia by the arms. "Take me to her," she demanded.
"Cassandra, I –"
"Take me to her!"
Lia lifted her hands and placed them atop the brunette's forearms, trying to calm her down as she lowered them. "We don't know what is going on. She still has those claws. If she can do anything else that we have witnessed her do, we will die. Do you understand?"
Cassandra remained defiant as ever. It was a flash of her old personality that would never take 'no' for an answer. "I do not care! Take me to her!"
It sent a spark of aggravation through Lia's chest, though she did not want to argue. The fawn tried to remember that the woman before her had just had her entire life uplifted, learning that everything she had ever known was a lie. The magnitude of grief and despair she had to have felt must have been immeasurable. She wanted her to remain rational, but that was a tall order. At the very least, she did not want Cassandra to let her emotions take the wheel and make a horrible decision.
Forgoing her desires for stability and bracing for the inevitable, Lia stood her ground. If this conversation regressed into a terrible fight, she would have to do her best to control herself. There was no benefit to battling Cassandra with anger. "I am not going to risk you or myself getting hurt. The answer is no. I am doing this for your benefit. Give us time to –"
Cassandra wrapped her arms around Lia, halting everything that the fawn was about to say. With her mouth beside the woman's ear, the brunette dropped every hint of rage in her voice, "Then we leave the moment she tries anything. Please…I need to speak with her." A small crack indicated that she was ready to start crying again. "Just let me try, Lia, please. I need to be free of this."
Rolling her lips and lowering her eyes, Lia brought her hand up to Cassandra's shoulder. She sighed a slow breath, sensing how desperate she was. Understanding the need for answers, Lia hugged her back.
"Okay. We will go."
NOTES:
Well, the wait is finally over and I hope it was worth it!
I was originally going to make this a small series of flashbacks in the previous chapter, but I felt it deserved its own segment. I've had it in my head ever since I first thought this story up, as I wanted to show how victimized these women were. I feel the biggest allure of the Dimitrescu daughters is that they are not who they once were, and we will never find out their true pasts.
Cassandra has always pushed people away, living a life of regret in the wake of it. Now, she has learned the terrible truth of her life. Everything is hitting her at once, but she has changed enough to fight her nature. She must think straight and keep a level head. She'll need it for the next chapter.
Alcina is in Locwitary and Cassandra wants answers. Will she get them?
Expect the unexpected when that chapter comes out on the 15th.
Follow this story on Archive of Our Own to check out the artwork created for this chapter!
Been considering what other fan-fictions for Village, or RE in general, I could create in the future. Fun Fact: I had plans for a Donna-centric story involving self-discovery and confronting her own tragedies. It would have been a psychological horror/thriller titled "Fragmented Flowers."
While this series will be a trilogy involving each individual Dimitrescu sibling, I'm curious about what you guys think. I have plans for an additional story outside the continuity of Fragmented, but the ideas just keep coming.
On that note: if you haven't played the RE4 remake, I highly recommend it! Solid across the board in my eyes.
Hope you all have been happy and safe since the last update. Time really goes by so fast, but getting to meet you all since this started has been awesome! I sincerely hope any future works continue to draw you in because you've made it all amazing on my end. I can't thank you enough! Until then, see you around! 😊