I don't know when Daniel began guiding me back to the house or when the clouds overhead turned to night. There were a lot of streets that passed by in a blur, people who only nodded at us with kind, warm eyes and blessings.

None of these people had their own personalities, their own thoughts and feelings.

Lights threaten my eyes through the windows of small buildings. Dan looks at the lamps and overhead lanterns with a jaded reverence. The kind of appreciation you see with someone whose peered up many times ages ago and can't find the beauty anymore, yet the meaning remains the same.

An older tavern makes Daniel freeze in his tracks, gripping my forearm tightly and yanking me almost against his chest.

"What can you sense about this place?" he asks quietly.

I continue to space out, thinking about the nightmare that surrounds me. This city, the people, the eyes on my back and head. Lindon's gone. Though I cannot die there are many other frightening things, horrific things that could be done.

A small, old bar doesn't even begin to compare.

"Ira, what do you feel?"

My mouth is dry. Atoms bounce on my skin an electric waves, pinches that ripple down my spine and make my hair stand on end. The feeling evolves into an awful tearing at my skin and I snap out of the stupor I've floated around in.

Energy. Mana.

A fortress built of it in the heart of the city, but not divine energy.

"Iridian..."

"It's not divine, so what is it...?" I murmur to myself, blinking into reality.

He doesn't say anything, looking around for other people.

I roll my shoulders a little and pull my back up straight. The presence of a true being isn't just energy, it's confidence. Power. A lack of fear that's woven into the very core.

Taking a few steps further, the grasp on my arm isn't softening. "Daniel, I need you to let go of me."

"What are you doing?"

I roll my eyes, slipping out of his hold and crossing my arms. "I'm going to figure out the answers to your questions, alright?"

"Don't go inside."

I feel my jaw click with irritation but I ignore it.

"Do you not know who I am?"

He pauses for a moment, considering this. It's not about the information, but a fight over the concern and fear he has. The constant panic that something is going to threaten my wellbeing. Perhaps admirable or even cute in some lights, the interfering had become more than a nuisance.

Dan doesn't say anything else, his eyes hardening slightly as he pivots away and gestures at me to go.

Much better, I muse.

The entity didn't matter to me.

While there would be anxiety in my chest from facing any sibling alone, I don't allow such a regard for lower creatures.

The scent is familiar.

Almost painstakingly so.

The foggy haze I keep snapping out of pools into my vision again for a second. The minutes of clarity are enough. I follow cobblestone up to a wooden door and grip an iron handle.

A flash of Mana pounds into my chest.

Clear vision returns and I inhale like a drug uplifting and relaxing me.

I forget this feeling so often now.

Pushing my way inside, I look at the candlelit glow and rustic themes of the room with a small smile. The farther inside I step down, the more I recognize the mythical energy permeating through the air.

Witches.

The weaknesses of Witches don't come about from a simple apocalypse, they aren't affected by the chaos and destruction with fire and water.

Daniel's energy flares when the door slams behind me.

I feel him let go of the restraint on his concern when I'm out of sight, but the effort is appreciated.

A pair of women are scrubbing the bartop after the evening rush, likely preparing for a late night endeavor. My eyes immediately drift to the silver lining through their scalps.

"How's your evening going?" a silvery voice chimes from behind me.

I smile and feel the tension leave my body. "Better now," I nod. "Yours?"

"It's hard to be in a Mana Desolate town, isn't it?" The blonde purrs, crossing in front of me and gesturing to a booth.

"I'm more of a bar type girl, if that's okay?" I ask, stepping over to the stools.

She agrees silently.

"Does anyone here know whats going on with the Mana in this town?"

A thin bartender shifts over with a glass and a couple different liquors. "It depends on who's asking."

"Someone who wants to destroy the cause," I answer. "Someone who has heard a few rumors and is curious about the truth from the lies."

A wicked smirk crosses her lips. She reaches a hand out to me, dark blue nails glinting in the light. "Tamsin."

"Ira."

She chuckles a little bit. "Iridian. We know who you are here."

I shrug. Leaning forward on the polished oak, I stare at one of the smudges she'd missed. "Ira is more personal."

Tamsin pours a drink and slides it over to me. "Just don't call me Tammie."

"Of course," I say. "You don't abbreviate a Witches name. Especially not a Silverend's."

Across from me, Tamsin Silverend stood tall in the colorful atmosphere. Her black hair, lengthy down to her thighs and yet perfectly maneuvered behind her back. Within this coven, length symbolized status. The older, more powerful women within the council wore their hair to the floor.

Tamsin's neared her calves, showing distant royalty.

"I always appreciate someone of equal measure and respect, there is no time wasted on formalities."

Another Witch comes from the back room, brunette, with thicker curves and a softer face. "Another God?" She asks, eyeing me. "I thought we were done with this."

"Locasta," the hostess snaps. "Behave yourself."

"Why should I? They are the ones who destroyed everything."

Every single enchanted candle in the room dims. My fingers knead into themselves, attempting to soothe the rage before something dangerous comes about. With a deep breath, smoke is exhaled from my nose as the flames come back.

Tamsin and the distant hostess are horribly uncomfortable, but calm. Yet, Locasta is stiff as a board, eyes wide with fear. My eyes fixate on her hair length and the silver nearly lacking in the roots and ends.

"You're young, so I'll forgive you. But if you've been alive for the last century you'll surely know a little more than that."

The silence is thick before Tamsin sighs, giving me a small look of confusion. "You're awfully calm for that comment..."

"I respect your hierarchy and your rules," I reply softly. "It is the Coven's decision and thereby the council's decision what happens. You may or may not punish her, but I respect what is and is not my place, unlike my brother."

I shoot Locasta one last look.

Instead of replying, she finds busy work around the dining room.

"You have a lot of respect, Goddess of Death."

Silverware falls to the floor behind us. I knew what the Hostess was doing but the impact surprises me slightly.

"We know you are not in the wrong here, Iridian. But you must be careful. Without your partner, you are at a significant disadvantage."

"So I've been warned..."

Tamsin looks away from the young Witch across the bar. "You know there are reasons I cannot give you my full blessing. We do have a code as you know and the company you keep is... unfortunate. But it is a blessing that this is not Silverend territory, as such I tell you this. Your brother has roots so much deeper than I can even fathom with the farthest stretches of my abilities. There are dungeons beneath his strange castle of glass and dozens of children trained for this moment. He knew you'd come. He's been waiting for the day. Alone, without your Soul Counterpart you are too weak, too malleable. Do not start what you cannot finish."

My chest contracts and I resist the urge to rub my tired features.

"Thank you, Tamsin."

She allows a small smile that fades fast as she nods. "As your Ally, I pray his reign to end and his heart to explode, but as her enemy I want her burned in hell."

"She's why I'm alive."

"She's an abomination."

"But is that her fault or her mothers?" I shoot back. I take a deep breath and shake my head. "Excuse me."

The Hostesses eyes are firm but calm. "You've have a long day, Iridian. No one can fault you for that. There is a plan to lure you to him, to Karma. Be mindful of who you exchange with."

I finish my drink and stand from the bar. "Please be careful, yourselves."

Tamsin takes the glass and puts it in the sink. "Of course."

I take the chance to part kindly, heading for the door and grabbing the handle with a taut composure.

One last time, I hear Tamsin take a deep breath, suppressing thousands of emotions I'm sure. "Ira."

"Yes?"

"How is she?" It's the softest whisper I'd ever expected, the sweetest concern seeping through.

"Meika Silverend is everything you made her out to be. A legend," I murmur.

A tired, sarcastic Legend...

Merry Not Christmas! Lol.

I promised an update and an update you shall have! I'm getting so excited, I spent all day writing and I'm just falling in love with this story all over again. I hope you guys are are excited because things are about to get extra heated. 

New update coming soon, let's try to get to 8k before 2020 XD

I love you all... More than you'll ever know. Have a good day!