amaradrakos

[amaradrakos]

Amara's eyes narrowed as she took in his response, noting the way his gaze flickered over her—still analyzing, still untangling her motives. Even now, it was clear Kiran hadn’t let go of the notion that she was after his soul.

Despite the apology, suspicion lingered. His eyes betrayed him, weighted with that constant calculation. In his mind, nothing had changed, even as he disappeared from sight.

—

There was power in a name, more than he seemed to realize. You didn’t give it lightly or hand it to the devil unless you were looking to tempt fate.

—Though Kiran didn’t seem entirely sure whether he valued his life or was courting the most painful death imaginable.

“Mr. Rabari,” Amara said as she found him in the ballroom, falling into step beside him at the edge of the dance floor just as the previous Cotillion slowed to a halt. It was no accident that her name now appeared in looping cursive on his dance card, neatly penned on the next line.

“You know,” she began, her tone smooth but pointed, “it would be considered extremely rude not to follow the conventions.” Her gaze flicked over the pairs lining up before she turned back to him, lifting a single brow in challenge.

“And you wouldn’t want to be rude, would you?”

Kiran realises his mistake quickly, noticing the sudden change in the woman's demeanour. Immediately, he's cursing himself - and his own stupidity. He leans back as her hand pulls way, allowing her some space from him, that ever analysing expression still written all over his features as he watches her, awaiting her response. He had become so used to being prey in this world, the ever spoken echoes of warning from his supernatural friends always ringing in his ears. But... perhaps he had taken it too far - his paranoia, or at least how quickly he was to express it. He would never want to offend anyone.

"I apologise." He states firmly, keeping his eyes locked to hers, despite the obvious threat that had been thrown in his direction - and the very real urge to follow her instructions and run in the opposite direction. He wasn't exactly known for his bravery, but he manages to stand his ground - at least for a second. "I shouldn't have made an assumption. About you. Or anyone here. I am a guest in your world, I sometimes forget that." Only then does he turn away, after a quick nod of his head, walking back in the direction from which he had originally came.

He stops, for just a second, as he reaches the exit back towards the main hall. With a roguish grin in Amara's direction, he briefly looks back. "It's Kiran. Kiran Ribari. If you'd ever like to incinerate me later." The grin extends for just a moment, and then he's gone.

[amaradrakos]

"Well, I'd have to be in the scientific field to collaborate." And she was going to leave it at that. He didn't need to know about her ongoing battles with modern trivialities such as revolving doors and elevators. "But that does sound interesting. I will have to pay you a visit at work."

Interesting and futile. Amara had been around to witness the creation of vampires—a species so deliciously cursed by the Gods of creation, they almost deserved to be their downfall. Yet, they wouldn't be able to outpace their nature any more than anyone else could outrun their own, no matter how much research and money they threw at it.

Though if they succeeded...

"I'm completely biased but I would say it's worth investing in, we're also happy to have collaborators." Chris answered with a grin and a shrug. He wasn't quite sure how they could work with a demon - and for once he was scared of getting in over his head, but he was sure Viv would be able to find a way. "Viv's looking into the more biological side, she'd been trying to create a blood substitute and figure out how we heal."

"Chris Elkar." He shook her hand. There was something weird and ominous about the way she referenced her past. It almost felt like he was supposed to ask about it, but if he did it would be a trap, so he settled for just introducing himself. "I'm at Ambrose Science and Innovation if you ever want to come by. We'd be happy to show you around."

[amaradrakos]

Amara's shoulders pulled upwards in the semblance of a shrug. "I was promised a banquet, weren't you? The vampires are getting their blood wine, I don't see why I should be exempt from the festivities."

They owed her. And they owed her a great deal more than this. All those years trapped in darkness, forced into cannibalism—they should consider themselves lucky she wasn't here to settle the score.

Her steps had carried her towards the elf at a leisurely but steady pace. Now stood in front of them, she leaned in close. "You're awfully chipper for someone who's only second on the menu." Her voice was bathed in humor, betraying the threat for the good-natured teasing it was. Tracing a finger along the bend of the elf's jaw, she added, "Aren't you worried I'll sink my claws into you next?"

Caia was watching the show before them for awhile. Why avert their eyes if the couple were kissing so blatantly in the middle of the hallway? It took Caia a beat to recognise that this was not just kissing. And when she stopped to send her snack away, Caia could not help returning the demon's smile with one of their own.

"Nothing in particular. But I have to hand it to you for being so blatant at a party surrounded by deities," they chuckled.

[amaradrakos]

Amusement curved at Amara's lips as her gaze flicked to the half-scorched mistletoe dropped at her feet like a petty insult. "I understand why you're angry," she drawled, her voice low and deliberate, eyes locked on Elio’s as she stepped over the branch and into his personal space. "All of these guard dogs around and yet they failed to catch a simple prank. —It makes you look like a joke."

Had they really been vain enough to believe no one would tamper with the mistletoe they’d scattered so generously throughout the manor? If it hadn’t been demons, a pair of young witches might’ve taken up the challenge. A mischievous spirit even.

"But is this any way to treat your guests? Taking your frustrations out on them?" She paused, voice softening as she tilted her head at him "On me?"

Elio’s eyes narrowed in displeasure, finally aware that a demon, or perhaps several, had been who tampered with the mistletoe at the party.

Unsurprising.

He threw one of the branches of mistletoe at Amara’s feet once they were alone. The branch was slightly singed from holy fire that Elio had cautiously obtained it by, not knowing the details of the curse placed upon it— only sensing that it was demonic magic at hand.

“Such a childish prank seems beneath even the likes of you,” he commented sourly, stepping closer. “Or am I giving you too much credit?”

[amaradrakos]

"Yes, you're a priest after all," Amara said with a faint smirk, her tone as light as the fingers that lingered at his collar. "You're supposed to lead them down a path of piety. But looking the way you do, when they get on their knees," her gaze flicked toward the pews before returning to his, "I doubt it is God they’re thinking about."

"Maybe, but yours especially," she added, her tone pointed, daring him to deny the obvious. She could practically see the words forming on his tongue, the dismissal he would offer about Astrid, and she already knew it would be nonsense. Stubborn as he was, Ursa had always had a blind spot when it came to Astrid.

When his gaze dipped to her hand, her lips curved upward again. "I am," she answered smoothly, flexing her fingers under the oversized ring. "He's the light of my life." A pause, her previously dazzling smile turning razor-thin. "If that light is a pyre."

"His name is Thomas Henderson. Twice married, thrice divorced—don't ask. He owns Henderson & Mahler. It's a tech company. Again, don’t ask me what they do, I couldn’t tell you." She glanced down at her hand, the diamond catching the dim light filtering through the stained glass. "Something lucrative, clearly."

"He's a busy man," Amara went on, her voice softening, though the faint edge of irritation remained. "I'm supposed to assure you that he would have come along, but he has a hard time stepping away from work." Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a brief moment, she looked not just irked but positively hurt by her spouse's behavior. "Especially for trivialities like planning the church ceremony I requested. He might not trust me with much, but as I’ve been told extensively, he trusts me with this."

Her steps carried her closer to Ursa, her voice dropping to something quieter, more intimate as she stopped just short of him. "I trust that he won’t live to see the day I walk down the aisle." There was no hesitation in the admission, no attempt to mask her meaning. Instead, she tilted her head, her dark eyes watching him closely. "He's at an age where his health is a little touch and go. Some days he barely makes it out of bed, but the doctors have yet to find the source of his ailments. It's tragic."

He had it coming. His legacy was built on a lifetime of exploiting others, of stepping on their throats to climb higher. He had walked away unscathed from every failed marriage and every broken home, his head held high. He treated her like an accessory, a dimwit in designer heels meant to sit pretty and smile at his side.

Men like Thomas didn’t change—not unless they stood to lose everything. And even then, it wouldn’t be remorse, only desperation. She wouldn’t give him the chance. It was already too late, and this time, he wouldn’t walk away at all.

Halloween had given Ursa a lot to think about and he had spent many of the days that followed holed up inside the church. There was always something going on there and he just needed to seem present for it even though he was mentally checked out. He really had no one to blame for the trick's played at the demon party given he knew it was coming. Astrid's wishes and words were still on his mind and as he stood by the window lost in thought, his eyes following the intricate patterns within the stained glass.

The knock snapped him out of it, his dark gaze turning towards the entrance ready to preach about patience. When he saw the culprit, he knew it wasn't worth the breath. The demon met her in the middle, stepping down from the alter to meet her. "Hello, Amara," he greeted, barely managing to stop his eyes from rolling from her teasing words.

"Is what allowed? Looking handsome?" he asked, raising his brow. He wanted to swat away her hands but waited for her fussing to be done so he could take a step back and out of her reach. "You've known Astrid long enough to know that any pretty face will turn her head." He wanted to argue that he wasn't considered part of those pretty faces but everyone had been on his case about it lately, even Astrid.

It was rare for Amara to visit, let alone visit the church so he expected she had come with a purpose. "I didn't know you were so in love," he commented, eyes widening as he glanced down at the ring on her finger. The ring looked too big for her hand, it was a ring that bought without the recepient in mind but to show off their wealth instead. "Well I am ordained to do so but it will be a real marriage if you say 'I do'," he warned. "So who is the new beau?"

[amaradrakos]

Amara's expression turned unreadable the moment his hand moved to cover hers, though her eyes never wavered from his, dissecting every word of his little speech. When the human finally fell silent, she tilted her head slightly, the movement slow and deliberate. "Are you always this charming?" she asked, her voice cutting, devoid of the warmth it held before.

She pulled her hand away sharply then, the sound of an exasperated sigh breaking the silence. Her gaze slid down the hallway as if deliberating her next move before snapping back to him.

"Go on," she murmured, her voice low but laced with menace. "Run away. Run before I decide to be exactly what you take me for and incinerate you on the spot."

Kiran observes the woman before him with obvious curiosity. The grin on her face revealed some inner mischief - and he was certain it was the less than innocent type. He was sure she was hardly human, given the subtly predatory aura that seemed to surround her. So, that left only a few options. Vampire. Demon. Perhaps a dark witch, at a push - but, unlikely. Either way, Kiran knew he should probably finding a way to discretely back out from the otherwise empty corridor - becoming suddenly aware of his very human vulnerabilities. But, he had long ago stopped caring about his own safety.

At Amara's command, Kiran's smile turns a little knowing, though he makes no effort to resist her suggestion - even if he could. He merely nods his head, turning his line of vision firmly away from the mess beside him and towards her. "Fine. Perhaps I've done them a favour anyway. It was bordering on tacky."

His gaze never leaves Amara's as she speaks, that good humoured grin remaining fixed upon his features - never wavering in its seeming boyish innocence. Though, his hand does reach up to balance gently over the top of hers where it rests on his arm. Slowly, he leans in a little towards her, with a raised brow and a knowing smirk, words hushed when he speaks again. "I don't know for sure which you want from me - my blood, or my soul." He quirks a brow, pausing for a second before speaking again, to gauge her reaction. "But, I fear you won't find either to your satisfaction. I am merely a human, and a slightly broken one at that. I am sure in a hall full of witches, deities and elves there's someone much more fitting to your taste." He tilts his head, watching her closely. "The night is only young, after all."

[amaradrakos]

Vivian Ambrose—Amara had had a face to the name for a while now, yet chance hadn’t been a spell potent enough for their paths to cross. When she spotted the vampire at Winterlight Manor, she decided to take matters into her own hands.

She rarely indulged in a gamble but this was a calculated risk. The mistletoe’s curse magic was juvenile at best, and the Underworld demon was confident in her ability to avert any negative outcome brought about by the pesky green springs.

Timing her exit to align with Vivian’s entrance, she let her gaze drift upward as the tug of the mistletoe brought her to a stop. “Oh, great,” Amara muttered under her breath, feigning surprise at the plant before her eyes flicked to Vivian, a slow smile curving her lips at the woman's remark.

“You’re not scared of a little curse, are you, Doctor?” The teasing lilt in her voice lingered, her dark gaze glinting with unspoken intent. Coincidence, after all, was such a boring excuse for opportunity.

Who: Viv x Open Where: Hallway leading to Ballroom When: VC Christmas 2024

Vivian was coming back from freshening up in the ladies' room when she realized her heel strap needed fixing. The darn thing had been giving her trouble all night and it had finally gotten to the point where Viv was fed up. The tipsy vampire leaned awkwardly against the entryway, and after finally finding her shoe among the miles of ruffles and fabric, she adjusted the strap.

The doctor stood up straight, fixing her skirt after completing her mission when something happened...what could only be described as a psychic pull. Someone who had also been walking through the entryway stopped their movements as well. She looked around in confusion before landing on the mistletoe above them. "Wait...Aren't those things cursed?" she asked with concern, her eyes finally meeting the person she was now magically trapped with.

[amaradrakos]

Amara waited for the cogs to click into place, for recognition to settle into his gaze—but neither happened. How curious. He hadn't the faintest idea what she was or what she was capable of. Out in the world it was the status quo, humans were meant to be oblivious to the sharks among them, but here at Winterlight Manor...

She had half a mind to check his wrist for the mark, but decided against it. What were the odds that another unknowing human had managed to stumble past the deities' first line of defense? Instead, she allowed her gaze to wander down the hall, an impish grin slowly spreading over her features, her words drenched in mock disbelief. "Mhm, whatever you say..."

As honorable as his intentions were, one glance at his outfit told her enough. He could spend three lifetimes saving up for it and he would still fall short. Not that any of the deities would require him to pay them back. But as it was, his morals were monopolizing his attention. Something Amara wanted for herself.

Her eyes flashed a dangerous amber as she leaned in close, the words on her tongue beyond a mere suggestion. "You won't. Let it go." It wasn't quite corruption magic, but if he harbored the faintest inclination to brush this little mishap aside, he would do just that.

His temerity was charming, she had to give him that. The faintly crooked smile too. It was a nice change of pace from her overbearing fiance and his beer belly. But men like this didn’t end up at the top of enterprises; they lacked the sharp edge it took to claw their way there.

"Oh, it's very cozy. Very quiet too," she said with a laugh, sliding her hand further up his arm as she turned to glance back at the alcove. "But I didn't come with a date." Catching his gaze once more, she dragged her teeth across her bottom lip, her tone teasing as she added with a shrug, "You can come join me if you want. There's room for one more."

Kiran watches the woman before him curiosly, raising a quizzical brow at her choice of words. Something definitely seemed to be going on beyond a hidden, drunken kiss - but Kiran wasn't exactly sure what. He keeps an eye on her a second longer, as if trying to figure out exactly what she meant. Then, he merely sighs, averting his gaze for a moment. "Well, I promise I didn't intend to stumble upon the two of you. I try my best not to make voyeurism a habit of mine." He jokes with a small smirk, though realising she may not find that amusing, he quickly adds in. "I was just getting a bit overwhelmed in the main hall. Thought I'd try to find a quiet place for a breath."

He glances back down towards the broken potterywith a visible wince, scratching the back of his head. "Yes. Well, whatever the cost. I'll figure out how to cover it. It's important to take responsibility for your own actions, I suppose." He does his best to shimmy some of the shards of pottery to one side with the edge of his shoe, hoping at least to stop anyone from accidentally treading on them.

His attention is soon caught, though, as he feels her fingers against his arm. Quickly, his line of sight flickers up from the ground to meet her gaze. His brows furrow, just a little, but he doesn't pull away - one of his usual, crooked smiles appearing in an attempt to appear indifferent. "I... I'm fine. I've just gotten out of practice with parties." He admits, though a small hint of amusement does appear in his eyes, tone slightly teasing when he speaks again. "You, however, appear right at home here. Or, at least, very comfortable in that alcove. Not all of us are so lucky to be here with a date."

[amaradrakos]

"You didn't. We were just about done," Amara returned levelly, stepping closer as her dark eyes swept over him, searching for even the slightest reaction to what he had just witnessed. "They may claim their menu caters to every taste, but I find it lacking."

She hadn’t found her very willing victim lacking. Nothing compared to a deity’s soul, even one as young as this one had been. They were remarkably resilient too--so long as one took care not to overdo it. This little bird would be good as new in no time at all.

Her gaze flicked to the shards scattered on the floor as she entered the circle of light cast by the sconce beside him. Her brows lifted, a quiet laugh humming at the back of her throat. “Oh, I sure hope so.” Even up close, he seemed perfectly human--perhaps a werewolf, if she stretched her imagination. But those were usually more irascible and less jumpy.

"But don't worry," she added, her smile kind, dark eyes dancing with light. "There is little outside our hosts' budget." Of course, some things money couldn’t buy, but it would be the height of hypocrisy for the deities to mourn trinkets from lost civilizations they’d never bothered to save. Then again, they weren't known for their integrity.

Without warning, her fingers brushed the length of his forearm, stopping just at the jut of his elbow. She inclined her head at him, a frown creasing her forehead. "Are you alright? You look a little out of it. Would you like to sit down for a moment?”

The festivities had been getting a little too much for Kiran. Stumbling, seemingly from one too many Christmas brandies, the human had needed a breather from the bright lights and the too many dancing bodies. So, he'd headed for the nearest doorway - a hand against the wall as he leaned against it, resting his head back as he took a deep breath.

He wasn't blessed with any supernatural hearing or smell, so at first he didn't notice the pair of bodies a little further down the hall. Blinking, though, he turned his head slowly toward the shadows - and took a few steps closer towards the subtle movements he saw ahead. Quickly, he notes the couple - but mostly his eyes narrow on the way one of the figures seemed to lean against the other, as if not quite with it. He's unsure if he should say something, but immediately decides against it - making a seemingly discrete turn in the opposite direction. That is, at least, until he knocks directly into an ornament at the side of the hallway, sending it shattering onto the ground beside him.

Kiran looks from the disaster he's caused and up to Amara just as she speaks - the embarassment evident across his face with the obvious flush at his cheeks. "Uh... no. No I did not. Sorry. So sorry. I really did not mean to interrupt." He speaks quickly, running a hand over the back of his neck. He cringes internally as he looks down to the shattered pieces of pottery around him. "Do you... think that's expensive?"

[amaradrakos]

She felt him stiffen beside her, tense muscles straining the already struggling seams of his jacket before he managed to relax somewhat. There you go, Amara thought, reaching across with her free hand to give his biceps a reassuring squeeze. She had known he had potential—just like his mere attendance had the potential to become a scandal.

As they passed the guard dog by the door—the same one who had scrutinized him earlier—the deity's gaze flicked down to their linked arms, only to snap away when Amara raised a single brow in challenge, daring them to question her choice of companion. She knew they couldn't touch her. Even if he didn’t belong, a human’s initiation into the supernatural world was always at an Elder’s discretion.

“You’re welcome,” she said lightly, steering him toward the ballroom as they ascended the stairs. “And yes. I can see your ankles.” Her tone turned gently chiding, her laugh bright as Christmas bells. “If you were a Victorian lady, I’d be scandalized.” She leaned in just a little, dropping her voice as her lips curved into a teasing smile and added with a wink, “And vaguely turned on."

When they reached the landing, Amara turned toward him, stepping in close. “It is what it is. The trick is to own it,” she said, releasing his hand to tug lightly at his lapel. “And lose this.” Her voice softened, her gaze skimming over his features. “It restricts your movements, which clearly makes you uncomfortable. That’s your worst giveaway.”

Her fingers drifted upward then, brushing his cheek with the lightest touch, as though gauging his reaction. “Act like you belong here, and with a face like this”—her thumb traced the edge of his jaw before she let her hand drop away entirely—“no one’s even going to notice your clothes.”

He was apparently very bad at not standing out, thank god he wasn't an actor he thought to himself mostly. It took a moment before he was able to kick his brain out the panic her words had sent him into. His panic was completely understandable for a number of reasons starting with the fact that she was in fact beautiful. Second, for the fact that she looked like the kind of woman that could destroy a man braver than him with a single look. The third and most obvious reason being that she'd caught him in a fraction of the time than he thought he would have been able to wander. "I ah..." He looked to the person she had pointed out slowly swallowed the panic down and took to trying to appear natural. He smiled and walked a little more confidently beside her, his eyes looking for the person she'd already pointed out. "Um thank you." "Did I really stick out that badly?"

[amaradrakos]

for: open (@vievecorcitystarters)

location: hallways of Winterlight Manor

Amara broke the kiss slowly, letting it linger a beat longer as the young deity’s fingers curled weakly into the fabric of her dress, their chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. Her own hands slid from their jaw to steady them as they sagged, dazed and hazy-eyed, against her.

She leaned their foreheads together for a moment, a soft, almost tender gesture belying the violence of taking part of their soul. “Run along now,” she murmured, her tone honeyed, as she brushed a smear of her lipstick from their mouth with careful precision.

Only when they stumbled away into the light of the main hall, leaving their secluded alcove behind, did the demon turn her attention elsewhere, meeting the eyes of their observer. Amara said nothing at first, letting the weight of the scene settle between them. Then she arched a brow.

“Did you need something?” she asked, voice even and composed, the corners of her lips curving just enough to betray amusement.

[amaradrakos]

Who he thought he was fooling, she had no idea. He looked like a fish out of water—so out of place that it would be a miracle if they allowed him through the doors. Then again, he wasn’t the only one. The deities’ chosen theme didn’t leave much room for interpretation, yet most of the offenses she’d seen tonight had been deliberate. A touch too modern here, an inappropriate colorway there. But neither excuse applied to the too-tight fit of his jacket or the flash of skin that appeared with every step he took. As an elder, she was supposed to point him the other way, but as a demon...

“Careful,” Amara warned in a hushed tone, leaning in close and looping her arm through the young man’s as she gestured subtly with her chin toward one of the deities ahead. “I think the cavalry might already be onto you.” Her words carried a teasing edge, but with her on his arm, even the deities wouldn’t question his presence—so long as he managed not to freak out now. “Smile and don’t forget to breathe. You've got this. Ten seconds of bravery…”

Uninvited Attendee

Where: History Museum When: Christmas Party Who: Open ( @vievecorcitystarters )

He was not supposed to be here. The costume fit barely and well it was a little awkward. He didn't know what the hell was the deal with the attire but that wasn't his priority. He'd heard threw the grape vine, the grape vine being a woman named Sana that had asked if he, Jack, was going to attend. She'd blabbed enough before he had even gotten a word in to know where the party was. He had told her he wasn't sure but if he was there he was hoping to see her and that made her giggle like some kind of school girl. He'd arrived to find the party requiring a very particular look one he'd not prepared for. So, he did what any sane person does.... breaks into the loading dock and steals a costume from a mannequin. He got the outfit on and hid his own clothing in a nook he was sure no one would find them and made his way to the crowd doing his best to try to fit in with the crowd. He was quite bad at it though...

[amaradrakos]

[amaradrakos]

Adria Arjona

[amaradrakos]

"That is true." Though even that time was trickling away as he sat with her, making no move to act. He looked tired, worn down by the mere idea of taking the next step. Amara turned her attention to the glittering water before them, granting him a moment of private reflection. "You know, sometimes, to help others, we need to help ourselves first."

His description was vague, but science and technology were not her forte. There was no need for either in the Underworld, and diving further into one field or the other would've meant nothing to her—not that she was about to admit that. "What sort of things?" A curious tilt of the head, an upwards flick of a brow. "Anything worth investing into?" It was never too early to plan the next step.

Judging by his reply, he was either fiercely loyal or had a more personal connection to Matthew than he let on. Given that he’d only recently stopped working for the demon, the latter seemed far more likely. An insight Amara decided to tuck away for later.

"I suppose you could say that, yes." She gave him a faintly wistful smile. "I'm still in the process of getting reacquainted with everything. I haven't been at liberty to go where I please for a very long time." The words lingered for only a moment before she turned toward him, extending her hand. "Amara Drakos. Pleasure to meet you."

He shrugged with a slightly guilty set to his shoulders. "Not yet, but there's still time." He glanced over to watch two people run by, wishing that he'd chosen a fairytale that was a bit more happy and clear cut, but just sat back a bit further beside Amara. "Vivian's another vampire, she's set up a research organization to combine supernatural stuff with science."

"I- I don't know, no comment." She was right about Matthew sometimes going on a self pity spiral, but Chris had thought it was more like a kind of lasting depression than anything purposeful. But he probably wasn't the right person to say that, and if Matthew heard Chris talking about him behind his back it could end badly. "I'll take your word for it. Are you new to Vievecor?" It seemed like she knew Matthew but not anyone else in the city.

[amaradrakos]

Amara nodded. For now, maybe was enough. It always took the fair and righteous a moment to realize that justice wasn’t to be found within their own ranks. “If you do decide to branch out, you should come find me.”

“Eyes like these?” An impish grin curled on her lips as she echoed the spirit’s words. “Are you calling me old?” She was joking, of course, the temptation to fish for compliments too good to pass up. Especially if the pay-off was even the faintest flicker of color in Naz’s cheeks.

“What kind? The ones who’d leave another woman at the side of the road after just one glance at you?” Amara tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. If those were the kind she had been trying to scare off, who was she hoping would seek her out? "If you were trying to hide your beauty, I'm afraid you failed. All of this?" Amara motioned at the spider's many legs. "It only enhances it. There's beauty in more than just appearances."

“I was talking about your business partner,” she clarified, slightly surprised by Naz’s quick dismissal. The spirit seemed genuine, though. “I see now I missed the mark, and for that, I apologize." Still, there had to be someone else then. Whether Naz wanted to see it or not, she had chosen a character who was destined not to end up alone. Someone whose happy ending was a husband. At least part of her, however hidden, had to be yearning for someone. And by all appearance that someone wasn't just anyone.

Taking the offered hand, Amara followed Naz to the water’s edge. Crouching, she let her fingertips ghost along the surface, sending water skippers scattering. “Together,” she said softly, though she already knew the wish would fail. When no change came—the air silent, the tall grass undisturbed—she met Naz’s eyes in silent acknowledgment. Their wish, like so many before it, remained unfulfilled.

Straightening, Amara waved her hand, magic shimmering faintly as it reshaped their surroundings. The grass parted to reveal a comfortable spot for them to sit. “See?” she murmured, a faint smile on her lips. “You only need to ask the right people.”

The princess was blunt but it did give the spirit pause. "Maybe you're right," she agreed. She had learned not to ask for much because it was better to not be disappointed. Over the years it had made the spirit independent and hard working but it also made her push people away. She didn't like relying on anyone but herself.

"I do," Naz promised. "With eyes like those, I'd believe that you hold the wisdom's of the world within them so why wouldn't I want to share stories with you?" she asked. It was a fair trade, a wish for a wish and a comfortable seat. The past few weeks had been a strain on her body and she found herself growing weary easily.

"I was hoping I'd be spooky enough to scare away those kind of men," she said with a soft laugh. Naz was starting to realise that the princess wasn't really a princess, they were just themself. No princess would flirt with a spider, even a pretty one. "My partner?" she repeated in confusion, her brow furrowing. Elliot was the closest thing she had to a partner but not in the romantic sense, at least not anymore. "I don't have a partner, it's just me," she finished lamely, shrugging her shoulders.

"Now how about we see if our wishes will work?" she asked, offering the princess her hand as she approached the pond's edge. The water shimmered with magic but the spirit couldn't help but wonder what lived under the surface. Shaking herself of the "Should we make the wish together?"

[amaradrakos]

-ˏˋ Adria Arjona (1992) ˊˎ

crédit: kidd