"Audeste, no!" Lenesa cried, lurching towards the gate. She couldn't let what had happened all those years ago repeat itself – and in her panic, she forgot everything else. She didn't notice how the crowds fell away from her like butter parting under the cut of a hot knife, or hear someone else cry out her name.

But Nua noticed.

"Murderer!" Nua screamed, echoing Audeste's cry as she threw out her hands, fingers bent like claws.

Figures and shapes sprouted from the ground at the Turned witch's command, gathering like shadows until they darkened and solidified into an army of faceless, cloaked figures.

With a cackle, Nua spun and dissolved into the mirage, as just one of the many of her creations, and both the witch hunters and the mob drew back, weapons and pitchforks at the ready.

Lenesa, meanwhile, was still pleading with Audeste.

"You must go," she begged through the gate, though her cousin's expression remained blank and unfeeling except for a touch of anger at her brow. "Please. I can't let it happen again."

"Your solutions to prevent history repeating itself and mine are quite different," Audeste replied, her voice like a thin sheet of ice across a pond – cold, brittle, and dangerous. "There is nothing we have in common now – nothing you can do or say to dissuade me."

"But there's something I believe I can do about it," another voice spoke up, and both witches looked up to find Kivirra Rosewood standing a few steps away, flanked by an entire procession of witches and wisps.

"Kivirra," Lenesa breathed, and was met with a concerned look from the witch.

"You're walking a thin line, Lenesa," Kivirra said. "You need to rest and rethink your actions. Let us do the fighting – don't get involved anymore."

The inky trails winding across Lenesa's skin told her that she should listen to Kivirra, but shadows whispered through her thoughts, urging her to take notice of the witch hunters surrounding them, and of the pain and deaths the townspeople had caused, and how Lenesa had already retaliated in kind at the river gate. It was too late to turn back now.

She took a step back, shaking her head. "I can't."

Kivirra's expression hardened, but she didn't seem surprised. "Be careful, then."

The moment was broken by the crunch of a footstep behind Lenesa. The townspeople's shock had worn off, it seemed, and the witch hunters were moving into action.

Lenesa started at the noise, but Audeste was faster. Though separated by the gate, her eyes fastened on the figure behind her cousin, the lilac of her irises sparking with light.

"You will not move a muscle," Audeste said, her voice dripping with a haunting chill. "Not a single one."

Lenesa whirled around to face her would-be attacker, a mixture of relief and horror on her face as the man collapsed to the ground, unable to breath.

"Audeste, you can let him go now," she whispered, though she remained at the gate, her hand still on one of the wooden bars. The man was ashen, his eyes filled with the screams he was unable to voice. "Audeste?"

She couldn't bring herself to intervene, but then, no one else was helping either. Either intimidated by Nua's illusions encircling them, or terrified at the witches' sudden appearance and Audeste's frightening display of magic, they merely stood at a distance, shuffling and muttering to each other in mounting horror.

The shadows in Lenesa's mind grew stronger and more frenzied, whipping through her mind with a greater intensity.

He deserved this – they all do – look what they've done – all your efforts wasted – what's one more death – get rid of them all – he's a hunter anyway...

But her magic ached within her, crying out at the unnecessary pain of another.

Help him!

"That's enough!"

Kivirra's voice cut through the chaos, and with a zap of raw magic, the witch burst open the gate. She and her witches filed in, though Audeste remained on the other side, staring unblinkingly at the man on the ground until a witch stepped between them.

The man sat up with a gasp, his chest heaving as he sucked in fresh air.

"We did not come here to fight you!" Kivirra called out to the townspeople. "We never wanted to. We will not deny that harm has come to you because of our kind –" at this, the mutters of the crowd grew louder – "but you cannot deny that you have also been the instigators to our own pain and suffering. There is healing that needs to be done, and that can only happen if we can forgive and trust each other. We do not want any more bloodshed!"

"She's lying," Decliteur called out, his response almost instinctive in countering the witch's. At his voice, the eyes of the crowd immediately jumped from Kivirra to the leader of the witch hunters. "You saw what that creature did to one of our own. She almost killed him!"

The man in question, still sitting on the ground, fainted. No one moved to help him.

"I'm not lying," Kivirra replied steadily. "Your man moved to attack one of us first. It was defense – and while we could have killed him in retaliation, we didn't."

"That one wanted to!" one of the other witch hunters objected, pointing to Audeste. "And if you're so intent on peace, why don't you get rid of those?" He gestured at the mirage of cloaked figures surrounding the crowd.

"Nua," Lenesa whispered. But she couldn't bring herself to say anything further. The witch was justified for her actions, wasn't she? They had killed her faun and taunted her, among so many other countless atrocities. Who was Lenesa to tell her to back down?

"We each have a choice to make, just like each of you," came Kivirra's reply, as cool as a glacial spring. "My choice is reconciliation. What is yours?"

Like a creeping frost, silence settled on the crowd as Kivirra's words sank in, its presence brittle and cold despite the summer heat. For a long while, no one spoke. No one moved.

Then, a soft scuff of shoes against cobblestone started the thaw. Lenesa felt a shock as the bookkeeper stepped apart from the group and towards the witches.

"I'm willing to give it a try," he said.

Then another figure moved. Theiden.

"As am I."

Was it her imagination, or had he briefly looked her way? Did he even recognize her, now that she was half-monster?

More people were coming forward now, despite the continued presence of Nua's intimidating mirages and Audeste's blank stare.

"Something has to change," one said.

"We can't keep living this way," said another.

"I just want to be safe."

"I'm tired of all the fighting."

"Surely we must be able to come to some sort of an agreement."

The hum of voices continued to grow as the townsfolk debated with one another.

"That's enough!" Decliteur's voice cut through the justifications like a thunderclap.

Some of the more timid onlookers let out sounds of surprise and fell back.

"You've fallen for the lies they spin too easily," Decliteur continued. "It's no wonder that we aren't all dead already. They're just playing with us, like a cat before its meal. But all the more reason to wipe them out, once and for all."

In a single, fluid move, Decliteur snatched a crossbow from one of the other witch hunters standing near him, and fired into Kivirra's group.

Chaos erupted.

Decliteur's attack had found a target, based on the cry that rent the air, but who it was exactly was impossible to tell, as bodies surged and retreated at the eruption of the fight. The townspeople who had stood up in support of reconciling with the witches clashed with those who opposed, and the witches faced off against the witch hunters themselves.

"Spinning lies?" Lenesa heard Audeste hiss. "He should look at the size of the web he's created." With that, she launched herself into the fray, turning away those who would challenge her with a single glare, and whether by intimidation or persuasion, they clashed with someone else instead.

Nua's shadow mirages, meanwhile, were swarming and terrorizing anyone they got near, enveloping townspeople indiscriminately. Lenesa could barely make out the panicked faces as they swung at phantom hands and imaginary daggers, never knowing when one of them could turn out to be real, wielded by the witch who puppeteered them.

Lenesa stood still, welded in place by the two warring sides of her heart, taking both delight in the violence and grieving at the eruption of so much pain. It wasn't until a witch hunter approached her, leveling his crossbow at her chest, that Lenesa finally found it within her to move.

"Lenesa, no!"

The cry sounded distantly like Theiden's, but Lenesa's focus was on her opponent as she ducked to the side and lunged at him, ripping the crossbow from his hands with a gust of wind and slamming him backwards into the ground.

She was above him in an instant, pulling the man's own knife from his belt and leveling it at his throat, where it grazed against the artery there with each heaving breath he took. As the battle raged around them, Lenesa hesitated, fascinated by the small trickle of blood winding its way down the man's skin.

It would be so easy to kill him. A single push of the hand up, and the blade would slide in, silencing him forever in a freeing spray of crimson. She would be able to feel his struggles grow weaker, hear his last breaths as gurgled gasps, and relish in the way death dulled his gaze.

It would be.

So.

Easy.

Lenesa pulled back with a frustrated cry, raising the dagger and bringing it down with the force of all the frustrations and pain that had built up in her heart for so long.

For Ralios.

For Audeste.

For Mona.

For Nua.

For herself.

The knife buried into the soil a finger's breadth away from the man's ear. Lenesa stayed hunched over it, her grip tightening on the hilt and the neckline of the man's shirt as she briefly entertained the thought of her fingers around his neck instead.

But that wasn't her. It couldn't be.

Lenesa fell back, stumbling to stand and back away as the witch hunter continued to stare at her from his place on the ground in shock. Perhaps he would rise and return to the fight, even try to attack her again. Or he could turn away instead, deciding his life was more valuable than the outcome of this battle. She didn't care. But there was a small part of her – at least for the moment – that still recoiled at all the violence, and such intentional killing that would change her forever.

Should I stop trying to fight it?

Something flickered at the corner of her vision, and Lenesa turned to look beyond the gate. Somewhere in the woods, beneath the shadows of the trees, there was a flicker of light blue before it disappeared again in the darkness.

Lenesa took a step forward, but a cry from the fighting had her turning around instinctively. Kivirra stumbled back, struck in the shoulder by one of two sword-wielding men. Beyond her, Audeste was facing off against Decliteur, who never brought his gaze higher than her shoulders as he fended off her attacks, well-aware of the danger in the Turned witch's eyes.

Lenesa's eyes wandered to the left as she caught a glimpse of a familiar, well-worn brown jacket. Theiden was facing off against another witch hunter, this one without a crossbow, at least. But her attention was soon distracted as a glimmer of Nua's mirage caught her eye, sneaking up on the one man who in her entire life had never looked at her with hate or scorn.

"Nua!" Lenesa shouted, her voice ringing off the walls around them like the echoes of a storm as she strode towards the focus of her rage. "You may think these villagers are all the same, but I know them far better, and you will not touch him!"

Clouds gathered overhead at Lenesa's words, flickering with electricity as they obscured the moon. Some people took note of Lenesa's anger and stepped out of her way, while others continued to fight, oblivious as the witch stalked past them.

Nua's mirages raised their faceless heads and watched Lenesa's approach. The bookkeeper only spared a glance at his daughter but otherwise remained as he was, facing off against the figures with a shovel borrowed from someone else in the melee who perhaps no longer needed it.

"Stop it, Nua," Lenesa said, quieter but more firmly than her earlier outburst once she was standing beside her father. The shadows writhed and itched beneath her skin at the confrontation.

"They're all the same, sweet sister," Nua's mirages echoed around them as one. "I don't see any difference."

"You do, and you know it," Lenesa bit back. "I know as well as you what it feels like. How the shadows encourage you to shed more blood. But it hurts every time you do. Your magic wasn't made for this.

Nua paused only a moment before responding. "But yours was."

Lenesa blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Lenesa, don't—" her father said as she took a step forward, challenging the faceless mirages. But the response came again.

"You're right," Nua said. "My magic wasn't made for this. I'm a dreamer – the figures I create were meant to tell stories and offer protection. What can I do with them in this fight but to deceive and wait for the right moment to strike?"

Something moved within the mirages, like a shadow behind a veil, and then the mirage witch stepped out from her creations, the edges of their forms where they touched her curling like smoke.

"But you," Nua continued, her cloudy eyes illuminated with an eager shine, "the power that you have is beyond anything I could dream up and bring to life."

"What do you mean?"

"Lenesa..." her father warned again. Nua shot a brief, irritated look his way, but the expression was dulled by the milky film over her eyes that had formed by her Turning.

Nua focused back on Lenesa and stretched out a hand. "Let me show you."

As though in a dream, Lenesa found herself reaching back, ignoring the pleas from the bookkeeper at her side.

Her hand gripped Nua's, and they were suddenly enveloped by the mirages and plunged into darkness.

~~~

A/N: Something I've had in drafts for a while, and finally got around to editing and posting for anyone still reading.