In the heart of an enchanting forest, bathed in the dappled sunlight filtering through the emerald canopy, lay Liliana.
Even dead to the world around her, she was beautiful.
Her molten copper locks spread around her face like a fan. Her pale skin was an unusually darker shade. It seemed to have been kissed by the sun, casting a warm, amber glow upon her delicate features. Faint freckles were beginning to form on her nose and cheeks.
Her closed eyes were fringed with long, dark lashes, a few shades darker than her hair. Her face was serene, graced with an epitome of tranquility, as if the very forest around her had woven its serenity into her very being.
For what was probably the first time in a very, very long time, her face was unguarded and she looked vulnerable.
Her lips were no longer the bright red she had painted them to be, but a softer, natural pink. They were slightly parted, moving in time with each gentle beat of her chest.
Her gown blended into the forest's palette of greens and browns and the fabric cradled her form like a second skin, accentuating her slender, graceful figure.
And then, she jerked upright with a gasp.
Liliana's fingers dug into the soft ground beneath her as she took giant heaving breaths, sucking air into her chest so forcefully, she thought she might die.
She forced her eyes shut as soon as they had opened, allowing herself to adjust to the bright glow beyond her lids. She waited for her breathing to calm down, to slow from its erratic spurts, and then opened her eyes again, lifting her hands to block out as much of the sun's light as she possibly could.
She should not have possessed the ability to do any of this. What felt like a moment ago, she had been unable to breathe or move or feel anything other than trapped. She had been inanimate, powerless.
But she wasn't anymore.
A cool breeze ruffled with her hair, lifting the waves slightly from her face, pressing against her skin, as though to remind her that this was real and she was alive.
Liliana was where she had been right before, well, something happened. She had no idea what that something was, only that it was the reason she had been trapped for what felt like centuries and no time at all simultaneously. She also knew that she was going to brutally murder whoever or whatever had dared do that to her.
She attempted to shift to her feet, but all she succeeded in doing was falling back onto the ground. Her heartbeat was fine, good, and strong, but her limbs felt like that sugary dessert she absolutely adored, all air and light filling but no solid substance.
She wasn't able to move and, of course, the easiest method for her to regain her energy, required quite a bit of movement. On her partner's part at least, if not hers.
Still, she forced herself to her knees and crawled, although she would die before admitting she had ever willingly been in that position, to a stream flowing by.
Her reflection was quite clear in the rushing water, and what she saw made her want to cry.
Liliana didn't consider herself to be vain - or more accurately, extremely vain - but, by the gods, she looked utterly hideous.
Her face was laden with dirt and her hair might as well have been a part of the forest for the amount of twigs and leaves and flowers it had picked up. Her skin was no longer its creamy, brilliant white but a dull beige, sunburn, that had already begun peeling off. And, gods, she had freckles!
None of that would do at all.
She bit back a frustrated yell and began scrubbing her face and arms as best as she could with the stream water while taking all the bits of ground out of her hair. At least she didn't smell.
When she was done, the sun had just begun to set, casting an orange glow around her, and she finally had enough energy to get to her feet, albeit she stumbled while doing so.
All she had to do was get home and she could feed and take a day-long nap and the longest and most expensive bath known to humankind.
Her knees threatened to buckle, unused to being used but Liliana simply refused to fall.
She brushed off the dust from her gown and forced her legs forward one, by one, grabbing onto trees for support as she walked.
It had probably been years since she had last walked, although considering she wasn't actually part of the forest, she hadn't been in the same place all that time.
The surroundings around her had changed, and the forest she loved and knew as well as the back of her hand, looked unfamiliar. It was a strange feeling and she didn't like it. Not one bit.
But still, she made her way home, guessing which turns to take and when to walk straight. She had always been good at guessing directions.
When Liliana reached the, at last, familiar crossroads with the same sign that had been there for decades and would be there for decades more, she realized she couldn't take the two lefts and a right it would require for her to be in front of her house again. Not yet, at least.
She was still weak and if she fell asleep, she feared she would never wake up, Fate or not.
So she limped down an old street and approached a four-story house made of clay-red bricks and onyx columns. She knew immediately that it belonged to a Fate.
She pushed open a set of polished doors and stepped inside the gambling den, full of dealers who smiled like tigers and players eager as cubs.
People were laughing and clapping and rolling dice on tables with whoops and hollers. It was a blur of gaming chips, and fizzing drinks, discarded cravats, and clacking wheels of misfortune and chance. When someone won, confetti made of diamonds and hearts and clubs and spades rained down on everyone.
But the room was alive, and the vibrant energy of it was enough to bring a little smile to her face and the faintest color on her cheeks.
She took a seat at the bar and didn't order anything, simply waiting for what she knew was to come. It always did.
Not even thirty beats had passed since she sat down, before a stranger appeared before her, all brazen boldness and sheer confidence as he ordered a drink on her behalf.
Liliana had to bite back a smile.
She may have been a complete mess, without any of her usual accessories, and in a dress from another time, if what the few women in the place had been wearing was any clue, but she was still gorgeous.
She eyed the man before nodding to herself. He was attractive, certainly, with a slightly hooked nose and dark hair and eyes. He was young but not too much so that he wouldn't know what he was doing if she let him take her to bed.
And it wasn't as though both of them had any doubts about where this was going. But the man clearly expected a shy, demure girl who laughed at all his jokes and to whom he could show all the pleasures of the world. Much like the dark demon he likened himself to.
So she smiled and bit her lip and attempted a weak refusal when he invited her up to his bed. She 'oohed' and 'aahed' and gasped at all the right times, drinking in his lust for her as she felt herself get stronger until she was back to the strength she had before.
And, when they were done, he pretended to be hopelessly in love with her and promised to talk to her non-existent father about a proposal that neither of them wanted.
She left, grinning, her steps no longer tilted, but smooth and strong, as though she were floating on the pavement.
The streets to her house were abandoned, and though it was not unusual at this hour - or at least it had not been - something felt wrong.
Her house was dark. And there were no sounds coming from inside. And Agatha was never silent.
Liliana wasn't like other Fates. She was not a Fate, although most everyone assumed her to be. She was immortal but was not of this world - she was a succubus, a seductress, a temptress, a witch, a harlot, a whore.
She could love as easily and freely as she wanted which she assumed was linked to her magic - she seduced others but she could be seduced as well. But love did not make her vulnerable. On the contrary, she became more powerful, able to use more of her magic and go longer between feeds.
Throughout her short immortal lifespan, she had been in love several times, the most recent for a few fleeting years before they both decided they were better off friends. But that kind of love never vanished, it festered and lingered and grew, for the both of them, and while there had been nothing romantic between them again, Liliana had invited Agatha to continue living with her and they had spent the next few years in complete bliss and harmony.
Until-
Until-
She frowned.
She still couldn't remember the events leading up to her capture which would make revenge that much harder but she had more important things to do right now.
She had to fall at Agatha's feet and grovel for disappearing for the short lick of time she had been gone. And then, she'd buy her the finest jewels and press her feet and plant daisies - Agatha's favorite flower - into every surface of her garden.
"Agatha?" She called, letting herself into the garden surrounding her house before knocking once and then twice on the cherub at the door.
There was silence.
Liliana pressed her hand against the door and it gave easily, creaking as it flew open.
Agatha would have never let the door get into such a poor state where even a child could break in.
She stepped over the threshold and immediately her eyes began watering and she coughed into the dusty handkerchief she pulled out of the pockets of her dress.
It smelled like death and rot and must.
She started shaking as she walked further into the hallway. Not because of the cold, although it was cold enough for snow to fall and her dress didn't have any straps. No, it was fear because she knew what she would find and wanted desperately, more than anything in the world for her to not find it.
But despite all her hopes and fears, nothing could have prepared her for the sight of Agatha's skeleton, leaning against her chair at the dinner table.
The crystal bowl they used for Liliana's favorite sweets was in the center, with ants and god knows what other insects still crawling in and out.
A book was open right in front of Agatha - although it wasn't really Agatha anymore - as though she had merely been waiting for her to come back home and had prepared dinner for them.
As though, even as the years passed by, she had still hoped Liliana would come back home.
It was too much.
Liliana stumbled away, out of the house, and into the ruined garden she had spent almost every day caring for, and promptly threw up.