"She has to go....yes, she has to. Beseech Mariah, she must cast her spell on her, make my baby bound to humanity, until I've breathed my last. Her power is too much for the rest of us- whatever is coming isn't good-" I can hear the vague conversation, I can feel the desperation in the voice that is speaking.

"But her powers- her powers are what we need now to save-"

"Her purpose is something different, Calla, don't you get it?!" the first, male voice shouts. "She'll just be a fardel at the moment. Her powers- the ones the Cursed has blessed her with," his voice drops a notch and he sighs. "They're hard to rein in, almost impossible to control. Don't you get why even we aren't allowed to be with her? She's dangerous-"

"But she's our baby, Aragorn-"

"I know," he whispers, "I know. I can't afford to lose either of you- this is what will be the best for us, Calla, my beloved-"

Beloved child.

What?

How mighty our powers shall be.

I wake up with a jolt, my eyes widening, my heart thrumming too hard for me to feel humanly. My breath is uneven and I'm gasping slightly. My eyes flit towards the surroundings once I've managed to calm myself down a bit. My brain stutters for a moment and I take in more light that I should- every part of me goes on a pause as my thoughts catch up.

The eerie stillness of my surroundings creeps me out- not a word. The entire room is dark and black- the only source of light being the silver chandelier on the ceiling, as if a cluster of stars clothed by the cool night. The quietude is a fine tailor as my thoughts and anticipations are the silken thread. Not even the ticking of the clock makes a sound- it's all so soundless that I'm afraid I'm alone.

In the next few moments, my fear of being alone is no more as there is a gentle rap on the door. My eyes waiver towards the door- a symbol of agelessness, however vintage and old-fashioned. The room is quite huge and heightened, it makes sense that the doors should be heavy, considering all the fine woodwork.

I stare at the face of the woman who comes in.

The people in here sure had a weird obsession with black. It was beautiful, yet indefinitely intriguing. Her hair was the finest shade of black, silky and pinned to her head in a neat updo, the pearls in her barrette contrasting sharply against her dark hair, like sugar sprinkles in a bowl of darkness.

"Queen," she says meekly, her tone like the finishing to the silk of my thoughts, and she bows. "A bath has been arranged for you, if your highness will."

"Fine," I can't help whispering, testing if my voice is still intact. It is. My hands instinctively find my throat again, brushing against it as I gulp, getting out of the bed, pushing the silky black covers to the side, my hands feeling the satin under my hands. She stays with her head bent and her hands folded in the front curtly. As I cautiously step onto the floor, I am surprised the coldness of the floor doesn't make me flinch. I suddenly remember the moderately warm floors of our home.

She leads me into a bathroom- the ceilings and floors still black as fuck and the only sources of light being the white crystal chandelier on the top- like stars in the blackness of night. The bathtubs are grey- I'm relieved to see some other kind of color than black or white.

The water is like crystals, washing me over, leaving me shining- my pale skin the most contrasting thing with the black- even more than the chandeliers. I gaze at my fingers once again.

Nothing.

The water is like a thousand, transparent pearls and I feel every drop, every touch of the water even if I'm dressed, yet, I fail to relish it. My mind is chock full of thoughts, yet I can't stomach the awkwardly homely feelings- as if I never belonged to- to my-

I can't bring myself to call it my home. Viviane, my- my father Matthew and my mother, Miriam. Will they be noticing my absence, after all? Matthew and Miriam have always been quite uncaring about what I've done. They've focused on Viviane- I've never been important because I was the wayward one, not behaving like the lady they wanted me to, not going out with the village head's son because he wanted me to.

I find it difficult to remember anything else from back then- just the vivid reminiscence of the last day- Viviane, her worthless fling, her submissive eyes, the door, the knob turning to ash, the vase destroyed- the black, red and gold rays, the woman, and then, just a very bizarre dream.

I grasp the edges of the sink because the jolt to my head that follows is so strong. My hands are shivering violently and I'm gasping for breath. What is this feeling? Like a wildfire in the pits of my stomach, like hot fuel burning me- a sudden overpowering thirst for destruction, a feeling that can't quite be explained in words so simple.

My eyes flit blankly to the mirror, yet I'm not sure if my brain is processing the reflections right- or maybe, it just is- it's the things that are happening are crazier than-- oh, fuck.

I'm staring back at me for a moment, until, until the corner of my lips lift in a vicious smile, my eyes glinting with the most murderous expression I've encountered. The little hairs on the back of my neck stand up with the electricity, and I can't tear my eyes away from the figure in the glass, as if I want to, but she's holding me in.

The figure slowly, oh-so-slowly burns, and melts away and simultaneously merges and blends until it's another woman altogether. She's incredibly gorgeous to be human- or even one of these creatures either- she's just something different- her aura extending around me, and the atmosphere suddenly pressing me into myself, the air becoming denser and thick enough to cut with a dagger-

A dagger.

I remember the one I always insert on the left side, under the waistband of my pants.

"Don't think of it."

My heart skips a beat when I realize it's just me, and the rough, feminine whisper is from the woman in the mirror- only, it's not me. I suck in large bouts of air as if there isn't enough- there really isn't.

"My child," her words are just a mere whisper yet they bounce off the walls and i realize it's not just my ears that are processing it- her voice seeps into every single of the pores on my skin, through every strand of my hair, through every thread in the fabric of my clothes. The overbearing figure and the devilish tone is making me shudder violently, and then there is the unfamiliar burn- it's not just my stomach now, it's everywhere.

"Together, together we shall reign upon the world."

I am unable to comprehend the meaning of what she's speaking- I'm a prisoner to her gaze. Her blood red hair flows in an aggressive mane around her shoulders, a crown of leaves entangled in her hair. Her face is magical, but that's not what is so crazy compared to one special thing.

Her eyes.

What's fanatical about them- it isn't the red solitaire of jewel shade of red.

It's like the devil's ink- the rich red of human blood- scratch that- it's several grades deeper than human blood. It's slick, as if it'll flow downways like blood any moment. It's the rich red color of cherries when they're covered with dew. I feel myself being dragged into her eyes, and everything around me is blurring. I want a distraction- something to remind me of the reality, yet she effortlessly tugs at my brain and I feel myself turning to nothingness, just a witness to her tactics. I tug at the noose she has around my neck, but there isn't one- yet her overbearing hold doesn't budge.

"You'll give me your body and soul, girl," she demands.

I whisper in denial, but I can't find my voice.

I feel the pressure closing in on me, and I'll be squeezed to a worthless mass of flesh and blood, a worthless substance unless I do something, yet I'm overpowered by the urge to give in even if i know the consequences. I advance, to do nothing.

The pressure is choking me.

I feel breathless.

It's taking over my mind- the urge to give in into her words. I can no longer make any sense of what she's saying- but it's drawing me, I feel my decisions amounting to zero importance.

I begin to crack.

I wait for myself to break down and give away, but the next moment, I realize it's the mirror that is cracking, not me.

I look down the second I feel the hold on my mind loosen, and my eyes drift to my bloody hands. I've broken the sink, and the chunks of white marble have pricked my feet, my hands and feet are bleeding, but not quite. What haunts me isn't just her eyes anymore- it's the color of her eyes that is oozing out of me- rich red.

As I look back into the remnants of the mirror that hang onto the wall, I visualize something that has me bound in a vicious thrall. Thick crimson, a dark red unlike anything I've seen before retreats into the black in my pupils from my orbs, the veins in the whites of my eyes glowing brighter than ever. It has me bound, however I try to shake the feeling off, I feel haunted, watched.

The feeling of exhaustion takes over my body and the last thing I know is my legs turning to jelly and my body gently falling on the tiles , my arm providing as a gentle rest for my head and the few broken pieces of glass that have fallen off the mirror in front of my eyes.

Damn.

A/N:-

That took me three days! I had to keep thinking in the back of my mind, yet I don't feel all that much satisfied with the outcome. Could've been better, right?

Who is the woman that Arwen is seeing? Any guesses? Not me, anyways. Or mayhaps, I must know something, after all. No spoilers here, anyways. The spoilers are just meant for the monke Nayasha_Jena who can't seem to stop bothering my angelic ass. (snorts in sarcasm)

QOTD- Pasta or Pizza? I can't choose! Wby?

Also, I'm reading Demigods Academy by Elisa S. Amore and Kiera Legend at the moment! The book is enthralling, interesting and full of supernatural secrets! You must try it out! I'm on the fifth book right now!

Tell me what you thought of this chapter! It was incredibly tiring to keep working on it. 

Vote, comment, share and follow! My Instagram ID is-  writingspree_322007 !

Yours magically,
Disha😍👊