Meika's Perspective

The darkness is only as powerful as you believe it to be.

Within every century there is a war. Whether it be one within yourself or a cause worth fighting for, decisions need to be made and battles are hard-fought.

I've never seen winners and losers.

Only death and triumph.

Eventually, someone is exhausted and broken beyond repair, shards of defeat slowly ripping them apart from the inside out whether emotional or physical. The worst being the mental destruction, the loss of all comprehension between right and wrong.

My darkness is collapsing before my very eyes.

Her mind is broken.

The unhinging process has begun.

A star spattered dusk consumes the now-empty town in a cloak of violets and muted blues. Enveloping the taller buildings and casting upon the remaining civilians a greying shadow, the world turns off every night slowly, like a city blinking from life to sleep.

The boy bid me to find the tavern.

I pitted him against his siblings.

And from sun high on I watched in the void of the streets, waiting for my own opportunities. Perhaps he expected it to be over with quickly, thought we would be meeting up only hours after separation.

If only.

My eyes lower onto the small pub, a dimly lit warmth echoing out from the window sills. No radiating light, just candles that flicker inside. For the last hour, no one has come in or left.

One soul's flame dances around in there, humming soft words to me of power and tranquility. Alone, I only see the fluttering of a lengthy skirt sweep across the hardwood in circles, curling up when the young witch ceases and spins toward a new direction. Dust swirls around at the end of a broom, much more beautifully than any ordinary being.

She dances to her own tune, in her own world, completely disengaged from the chaos surrounding her small shelter.

I still cannot believe Iridian came in here, knowing every ounce of our history and every single custom as if she were raised in it herself.

Tugging some of my stuck cloak off of the clingy bricks around me, I step forward. Momentarily illuminated by street light only to slip down to a cellar window and peer in through the bars.

A much younger witch is snoring with a scroll draped over her face.

The brunette appears to be in a deepening state of surrender to that parchment, a smirk lifting my lips momentarily.

Squeezing through the bars and popping the window open, I lift my hand momentarily. An orb appears and I drop, allowing the spell to swallow any and all sound filling or exuding the room. The window rights itself, clicking back into place and I find myself making brisk strides to get away from the young, drowsy witchling.

Keeping the small sun pulsating in my hand, blues and greens lashing outwards to eat the clicks of my boots on the stairs, I find the old architecture fitting and somehow not.

Everything is stone.

From the walls to the flooring, only differed by wooden stairs.

Polished and fresh though, strong enough still not to creak.

My eyes are open for traps, scanning every inch of each room until I find myself on the cusp of the main bar.

The woman is the only sound, sweeping and humming in her circles, lifting and moving furniture.

My fingers graze over the handle, corresponding with a gentle hiccup in her tune. The pause lasts long enough for me to flinch and pull out my blades. She proceeds again, mindlessly cleaning her shop.

I grip the handle and thumb down the hatch, allowing myself to slip in soundlessly before finding a place against the wall and letting the spell fall away.

Observing as she freezes facing the wall, I mind her lengthy hair coiling with silver and brushing inwards against the back of her knees. Two thin braids are pulled from either side of her face, only to weave together in the back.

Her skirt is a commoner's brown, with a high waisted, wide black belt, covering her white blouse.

"I should've expected this sooner or later," she mumbles, taking a deep breath and lowering her chin angled to look at me. "How silly of me to think you'd always respect the banishment."

My lips turn down ever so slightly. "Had circumstances not changed, I very well might have listened to it until the last breath I took. You could be dealing with a rather naive, uncultured boy who posed himself disrespectfully. To that end, I would consider yourself lucky."

"Ah, yes, the puppy whom we caught standing outside when your dear friend came inside our bar that evening. Very protective of her, he is."

I shrug, finding my way to the bartop and leaning against it. "He is her nephew, just as you are my niece, Tamsin."

Tamsin turns to address me with her full attention, amusement swirling in her eyes, though her face does not let on. "A distant one at that, but surely irrelevant to the game he's been playing all these years."

"He seeks penance in her, seeks redemption from his sins."

She nods and pulls a stool off of the table to her left, sitting down on it slowly. "Indeed. But would Iridian favor him so if she knew?"

"That is their path to walk, not mine. But I need your help..." My voice dies in my throat ever so slightly. "She's stuck in that hell of a mansion... Some massively fucked up Purgatory he made to torture her, and I must go in there and take her to Lindon. Or she will die. And he will die. And this world will collapse. There is no spell, no demon, no creature strong enough to save earth from the catastrophic downfall of their demise."

"I see she did not heed my warning," Tamsin allows, her face contorting in thought.

"You'll get pleasure out of what I'm asking of you anyway..." I say, looking at the floor. "Sicco Resia is the only way I know to keep her alive at this point."

Tamsin frowns fully now, wordlessly standing again and immediately stepping behind her counter. She begins pulling out various things, ingredients of different sorts, and then lifting her gaze to me. Each time she shakes her head and resumes, building a neat table of equipment before us.

"That was a speech, fortunately for you, it won't take much convincing. I do not wish to live in this world without them and without a council, I do what I please."

The ice in my blood is swallowed by fire. "What do you mean there is no council?"

Tamsin meets my gaze steadily, eyes warm compared to the inherent stiffness controlling her frame. A silver glint flashes in those irises. Deciding, calculating if she can trust me. Analyzing every possible outcome.

"What I am willing to tell you does not leave these walls, do you understand?"

All I can do is nod.

"The Coven has fragmented. Acting in two major parties, the Council decided to help Kiel in his disastrous attempt to dismantle the boundaries humans had created and made a world where there no longer needed to be any hiding. An entire faction of the Silverend Coven would not stand for this. We were allowed to choose our wills according to our laws until such a time summoned. Though, I feel like you gathered as much from your time on the African Coast, Silverend Heir."

My mind spins, processing out every piece of information, and putting the last few puzzle pieces into place.

"Forming your own small Coven in Tanzania didn't go unnoticed, though perhaps the Council also did not care. You possessed no threat and demonstrated no ill intent, but there were always eyes and ears pointed in your direction. Tell me Meika, who is leading in your wake? Who is in charge while you are away?"

Ice flows through my veins again, swallowing the panic and frustration but also soothing the tension beneath. A growl threatens to rumble in my throat, forcing me to swallow back the lashing in hopes to deter threats.

"Your precious Goddess was Unconscious, allowing you to sneak back into her heart without question. She did not once ask you where you had been or what your plans were. Iridian is so completely unhinged that you were able to plant yourself right back at her side without once telling her the truth."

A sharp pointing of my fangs slices into my lips, fighting every attempt to bite away the snarl growing. "That is none of your business, Tamsin."

"But isn't it? For someone, I view as a leader, for someone destined to rule and reclaim her throne. You've been planning, calculating. Searching. Do you know what else I know, Silverend Heir? They are in that glorious castle. After years of mental imprisoning, Kiel captured and broke Shai'Rune."

My hand lashes out, throwing my knife towards the wall and punching the table as it hits.

"So much respect for the law, even after all these moons. I plan to help you, Meika. It has been written and carved by any and all the elders who choose to listen. We know you are to rise, but many will resist."

Without asking, Tamsin takes my wrist in her hands and says nothing more as she carves into my flesh. I hiss in pain but let my eyes fall blank and vacant on the wall.

She knows.

She knows everything.

"Nothing leaves these walls?" I ask, my blood sizzling with purple light at the bottom of her glass vials.

Tamsin nods. "That is my price."

"Then it is mine, as well."

A wicked grin lines her lips, Tamsin then slices into her own flesh and allows silver and blue blood to pour into a vial of her own. Silently she brews the small potion over a candle-like brazier.

"What are you doing?" I snap, glaring from her to the vial.

She rolls her eyes and raises a brow at me. Sharp perfect features gracing me into a strange, caring game. "I am protecting you both. This war is only beginning, and you do not have many allies."

I go to argue, interrupted by the bickering of two faint voices coming towards the entrance.

Tamsin hurries, whispering incantations into the potion and stirring in a few powders and herbs I'd only seen growing up in the main house. Ingredients only used when someone of royal blood was life-threateningly unwell.

"Be careful what you use your blood for, Tamsin."

"Hush," she mutters, stirring more fiercely than before in an attempt to beat the coming girls. "Things in this world are not the same, Witchling."

I scoff but chuckle deep inside my chest.

Tamsin takes a clean vial and mixes everything together, dropping an enchanted rose petal inside and plugging a cork into the top of it.

"I want to see the world burn in silver fire, a better world..."

The voices get louder, someone's hand grabbing the doorknob.

I brace myself as she slams the glass in my hand and gestures toward the door. "Now go, don't get c-"

The two women enter the building, freezing when they get a look at us.

In one swift movement, I disappear in a dark mist of black flames, clutching the bottle tightly in my hands.

I will free Iridian.

I will take back my crown.

And I will help restore balance to this wasteland. 

*Laughs evilly*

Good afternoon My Lovely Destroyers! 

I know, I know. I'm supposed to be updating my NaNo project, but I got this fantastic inspiration that just poured out of me and suddenly everything just clicked. I loved writing this chapter!

How did you guys enjoy Meika?

We will be returning to Iridian after this, so I'm very happy to show every side of these characters. Don't spoil the book too much though lol. 

Don't forget to vote and comment if you enjoyed! Happy reading!