Lydia had always felt connected to death, somehow. But it wasn't until it was too late that she realized being a banshee didn't only mean that you warn of death.

"I'm the gate," She muttered again, looking to her shaking hands as the pack's faces were stricken with confusion. The bound beta was still grinning furiously at her. Stiles was in front of her, hands grabbing her cheeks to bring her eyes to his.

"Lydia, what do you mean you're the gate? What is this insane guy saying?" He questioned, eyes searching her worriedly. She panted as she looked up to him, a sickening metallic smell radiating from her mouth.

"He's right, He's right. I'm being used as a-a gate between the worlds." Lydia felt the hole in her chest swell again, but kept the heaves at bay. "Akeldama... Akeldama, he's coming. They're going to use me to bring him back, just like they used my grandmother," The beta laughed wickedly at the sound of his masters name.

"Akeldama is arising," The werewolf hissed, causing a growl from Scott.

"Well, he's not taking Lydia." The alpha said lowly, earning a nod from Stiles.

"He won't have too," The beta chuckled, turning to Stiles with a wicked grin. "You've already lost your grip on your precious banshee, she'll bring shame to her bloodline, to Aelval." Lydia's breath halted, and a small whisper escaped her lips.

"Aelval..." She trailed, eyes rolling back in her head as she collapsed into Stiles' arms.

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Her eyes opened slowly to land on a low, weathered door with a large metal handle. Surrounding the door was the black void she had grown familiar with, yet it still gave her an eerie feeling in her gut. She stepped forward, steadily but slowly, until her cold fingers outstretched to the handle. It's hinges creaked open before her hand could even reach the door.

Lydia crept inside, peering around what looked like a mediaeval living quarters, large rafters extending into the roof and dim iron candelabras hanging from the wooden beams above.

"Momma," A small girls voice, tinged with a Irish accent, echoed through the cottage, causing Lydia to turn towards the sound. In the far corner of the room, a woman, paled and sickly lay in a rickety old bed. The young girl perched beside her, a pained look on her face and a reddened nose. The woman's gaunt cheeks flexed as she reached out a hand to the girl, folding the fingers around her strawberry colored locks.

"Do not fear, my dear Ealga." The woman spoke, with the same Irish accent. Though her outstretched hand shivered with cold, the daughter relaxed into her mother's warm touch. "You are going to be the last banshee, child. You will possess my power, and carry it through you." The woman extended a shaking hand to the stone walls beside her, hands closing over a single stone and ripping it from its socket, causing the wind to seep through the hole it left behind.

The woman pulled a knife from the nearby table, delicately carving a Celtic symbol into the rock's surface. Ealga watched with wide green eyes as her mother finished, breathing jaggedly as if she had climbed a mountain. The woman sunk back into the pillows with a sigh as the knife clattered to the floor.

"Momma, please don't leave me," The girl weeped, grabbing her mother's hand with her own small one. The woman's eyes flickered to Ealga's, a glowing lilac hue overcoming the irises as she sat up straight.

"I will always be with you, my precious banshee. As long as you have my stone. The stone of Aelval," The mother, Aelval, pressed the stone into her daughters hand as it began to glow the same color as her eyes. "You must protect this stone, use the power it gives you to keep it safe. No other than a banshee can control its power." Ealga nodded, sniffling as tears rolled down her small cheeks.

"Do not fear the wolves, the demons, or the humans, my child. For you are stronger, and you are the daughter of the queen of banshees. My magic will run through your veins, just as my love for you will never leave." Aelval gave one last smile to her daughter, pressing a shivering kiss to her forehead.

The woman sat back into the bed, folding both of her hands over Ealga's hand that held the stone. A purple energy flowed from Aelval's hands into the stone, her eyes clamped shut with pain.

A scream ripped through the Queens throat, making the rafters rattle and the walls of the cottage shake. The iron candelabra dropped from the ceiling, one of its' candles licking a rug on the floor. Ealga cried as the scream came to a stop, and her mothers body became limp. She withdrew the stone and pressed it to her heart, giving her mother another gaze before she turned from the body.

A flame erupted into her face and Ealga tumbled backwards. Fire coated the inside of the cottage, and her knees quaked with fear. The stone glowed and pulsated in her hand, and the girl took a deep breath, focusing her mother's magic into the other hand. A white hot ball of purple energy flickered to life inside her tiny palm, and Ealga threw it through the flames, creating a pathway to the front door.

Her small eyes looked back to her mother for a final time, watching as the flames began to lick the edges of her dress. Ealga tore back towards the door, tears leaking from her eyes as she ran through the flames and out of the cottage, not bothering a final glance as her house caved in onto it's self.

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The image Lydia was watching warped until a completely new vision formed. Ealga stood taller, a green cloak covering her matured frame. She walked forward in a cramped medieval street, holding the glowing stone of Aelval in her hand. As Lydia neared, Ealga's hood slipped from her head and Lydia gasped at her features.

The face identical to Lydia's, down to the small freckles that dotted her face underneath her eyes, barely visible by the blood that splattered her face.

Ealga was narrowing her eyes at someone, A threatening glint in them as her voice took on a murderous tone. "You, yourself have said it. You are a demon from the pit of hell."

Her hand moved to rest on a mans chest, directly over his heart. Lydia instantly recognized the man as the one of her nightmares, Akeldama.

"But I will send you back where you belong," Ealga spat, a purple glow of magic igniting in her palm.

"HELL!" Ealga screamed, causing the windows to shatter. Bits of glass rained directly through Lydia, like she was made of air.

The image changed again until Lydia saw a wrinkled Ealga on her death bed, handing the stone Aelval to a woman with dark hair and green eyes. "My power, and the power of your grandmother, Aeval is in this stone. Protect it with your life, my dear." The aged woman smiled sadly at what Lydia presumed to be her daughter. 

"Do not fear  the demons, the wolves, or the humans. For you are a descendant of the Queen of banshee's. You will carry our power, just as you carry my love," Lydia's heart quickened at the almost identical words of the woman to her mother's final words.

The world changed once more and the girl with dark hair and green eyes lay paled on a large bed, sweat coaxing her forehead. The surrounding room was adorned with seventeenth-century ornaments, all in pale pinks and blues that Lydia instantly recognized as a French monarch's bedroom quarters.

A newborn baby girl cried as she was bundled into a blanket. The woman on the bed spoke breathlessly to a man beside her. "My beloved," Her hoarse speak was masked with a French accent. "Give our daughter the stone, when it is time. Tell her that within her blood, courses the power of Aelval and Ealga."

The man beside her pressed one last kiss to the woman's forehead, before her body lay limp.

Time flashed by Lydia's eyes as descendants of Ealga passed the stone from Banshee to Banshee, telling tales of the power Aelval held. She saw them migrate from England to America, live through World War Two, facing werewolves and other supernatural forces as the stone was passed down through her ancestry.

And finally, as the visions came to a stop, she saw a younger version of her grandmother with the stone in hand as she sat by the water at her lake house. It glowed a dim purple, and her grandmother's eyes matched the color.

Lydia's breath halted as the woman began to speak. "He is rising," She croaked, her grip tightening on the stone.

"I will not fail you, Ealga." Lydia's vision went back as she was thrown roughly back into the void.

The large set of doors was in front of her, opened as a dark silhouette contrasted with the red inside. It was Ealga, clad in her green cloak and emerald eyes glinting. It haunted Lydia to see the exact image of herself looking straight into her.

"Lydia Martin," The elder Banshee boomed. Lydia's breath quickened.

"The last Banshee of Aelva's descent." Her heart shined with pride for a moment, but soon dampened as the hole in her heart swelled with fury.

"Akeldama has haunted us for generations, but you, dear Lydia, can end it all." Ealga held her chin bravely, like she was proud of Lydia too.

"But will you be ready to say goodbye?" Her heart dropped as her ancestor repeated the same haunting words as her grandmother did.

Ealga's silhouette was replaced with Stiles' and he again was trapped behind the gate as he screamed for her, begged for her. Lydia felt herself cry as he screamed with futile hope.

"LYDIA!" He screamed, and she tried to clamp her eyes shut from the painful image of his struggle. "I CAN'T LOSE YOU!" He hit the barrier between them, anger and fear seething through him.

"LYDIAAAA!" She felt her vision go to black again, as he screamed for her until they faded to nothing.

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The Gate
[ 07 ] Ealga