Harridan
II: Vegvísir

In the shower’s piping water, Kieran washed off the shampoo and the bad energy she accumulated in her short day. The fragrance of roses in her hair products were also aromatherapeutic and went with the pomegranate body scrub. The feel of her conditioner she massaged her scalp with also eased her foul mood. She cupped her soapy hands together. Black mist started to form in her palms. She balled her hands and took a deep, steady breath with her eyes closed. Kieran took another deep breath and a third before rinsing her hair. The shadows spread to her foam.

The en suite bathroom would take getting used to, along with such a contemporary bedroom. Her clothes from yesterday were cast aside on the desk chair while what was left of her wardrobe - her biker kit - was all she had to wear. The unruly curls bobbed jubilantly on the curved stairs until Kieran stepped into the kitchen. There he was - James Madigan - sipping coffee from his morning mug with a newspaper in the other hand. Already bustling around him were his housekeeping staff.

The woman - in a navy skirt and jacket, unlike the other staff in uniform - modelled towards Kieran with a tray. "Good morning, Ms. Arclight," she greeted and set the tray on the island. "I am Anna Harlin, the housekeeper. You may call me Anna, or Ms. Harlin." She gave a bright grin and removed the cloche. "Magnolia says you like your English muffin with melted white gouda and bacon. If you need any else while settling in, you may come to me because that greying fossil will be as useful as his appendix," she joked then bounced off.

"The joke is that I had my appendix removed," James replied. James scoffed his humour before looking to Kieran starring at his mug-holding hand. On the dorsal side was an ornate eight-point asterisk. "It's called the Vegvísir. In Nordic legends, it’s a magical stave used to find your way; like a runic compass," he stated, peeling back his sleeve to show it off. When looked back up, she had turned to take in the busy kitchen awkwardly. "Sleep okay, last night?"

Kieran took a bite of her sandwich and, turned her face away and wondered out the kitchen. The house itself was kept in vintage shape while all the furnishings were modern; the fireplace too had been done up. Outside, the estate had a vast driveway and was completely surrounded by trees. The upside was how much closer it was to the meadow by her grandmother's cottage.

A place the shadows that followed her always waned the most, restrained the swiftest, silenced the fastest. Before her death, Doreen had a knack for drawing Kieran out there to fight the shadows. The young woman was returned to the large house by James' shoes steadily behind her, along with his heavy sigh. Stuffing the last of her toast, she bit her lower lip.

"Look, Rie, I--"

"Kieran," she cut in, whipping her head towards him. Her sneakers on his pinewood floors stepped right passed him and out the front door.

The incredible amount greenery made the route feel more like a walk through an enchanted forest than a gated community. It wasn’t quite spring yet; the chills were still there but it was too warm to be wearing layers. The flora of New Bristol were showing that spring wasn’t far though. Kieran zoomed off down the empty street, also endlessly lined with trees and shrubs and bushes. The black Kawasaki stood out among the shades of greens and early pinks.

There wasn’t much on Main Street; only the very center of life in a town of seven thousand and something people. The police office was the most desolate of places on the stretch of road. Crime was low. Main Street was its usual buzz of activity. New Bristol was diverse and yet small enough to only need one of everything. One bank; a single fountain in the square; one general store; one cemetery; one jail; one inn; one salon that doubled as a barber; a modest hospital; among other things. The library was under the clock tower - the oldest building in town.

New Bristol High School was its usual air of post spring break despair. On the outside, at least. Blaine took the liberty to make the interior a lot more festive; setting up the excess flowers from the flower shop taped to lockers and homemade springtime and prom posters. Helmet in hand the black blur glided through the corridors to her locker that had fresh white orchids and peonies taped on the door.

A weak smile spread on her face before Kieran rummaged for her English books. "I saw that," Blaine sang behind her. Kieran set her helmet on the top shelf before turning to find the widest pair of green eyes on her. The thickly layered eyeliner only made them more bulbous. "A halfhearted lip tug that lasted longer than a millisecond? Oof, it's a personal best. Somebody call the Guiness World Records."

"Drop dead, hippie," Kieran commented.

Blaine regarded the second lip tug before giving a light laugh. It was brief and immediately drowned when she pulled Kieran into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry," she sighed. "You know if you guys need anything..." Kieran pulled away from her. "Rie, please," Blaine pleaded. "Clothes, therapy, smoke signals 'cause your new dad's a psycho." Kieran shut her locker then started for class. "What's he like?"

"Huge house, one guy. Not much to say beyond that."

"Maybe he is Batman," Blaine chuckled. Kieran wasn't amused. "Okay, okay, perimeter breach acknowledged. Next topic: our double date." Kieran gagged as they reached the top of the stairs. "You promised."

"You promised on my behalf," Kieran corrected softly.

"You and Donnie have never said two words to each other! And I have been dying to get you two to say something other than those awkward 'hey's in the halls. Think of it as prom prep; my boyfriend and my platonic soulmate on either side of me, walking, as I get my long-awaited crown. Having a proper conversation. Then, after I'm crowned, and Donnie and I are dancing-- oh, look! Scandal on the dance floor! Kieran Arclight talking to an actual human male!"

"I'll see you in history."

"Oh, no! She adhered to the dress code too," Blaine added before heading in the opposite direction.

Kieran combed her hair behind her ears then took to the next level of stairs. She slithered into English and crept to the back undetected. Ray and Mercury came beatboxing into class while Dr Eggman was paging through his copy of the prescribed reader. The way everyone just casually called Mr. Heathcoat ‘Dr Eggman’ was astounding! Principal Avery called him that; most of the parents called him that; all the students called him that; Hell, his sons - one of whom was the mayor - called him that! Mr. Heathcoat didn’t have an issue with it; he embraced his egg-shaped head. He thought it was funny.

Kieran crossed her legs uncomfortably, feeling uneasy at the thought of James' tattoo. The Picture of Dorian Grey faded from her mind while she started doodling that symbol in her notebook. The thought alone made shivers run down her spine, like it was important. It was four lines crossing each other in the middle, with different - yet similar - symmetrical symbols and patterns decorating the ends of each line.

While indulging in her lovely artwork, Kieran paid no attention to the time. As much as she didn’t want to think about it, all she could think about - once she got over the symbol - was Doreen, and the off chance she ever mentioned a symbol like that. The thought of Doreen made Kieran deflate; she was the reason the house caught fire. The events of the previous night it all replayed in Kieran's mind.

The best years of her life were spent at that cottage, just outside town. The eerie little cottage only had one bedroom with a lush' big bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed was Doreen; a shadow of her former self. In place of vibrant blonde hair and a regal glow was wrinkled milk skin and thin silver threads. A creased grin looked down at her granddaughter pretending to be asleep.

Under the covers, Kieran was sniggering to herself with her eyes firmly shut. Doreen carefully peeled back the soft pink covers to see black hair scattered like rays of the sun. Kieran pursed her lips but still spluttered out a little laugh. No older than five, Doreen had Kieran completely captivated by how in control she was of fire. Doreen's fire was exceptionally intriguing since in burned blue.

“Arclight,” Dr Eggman bellowed. Kieran turned to see his class emptying and she was still staring at the second page he read. She pursed her lips before packing up her stuff and hurrying to maths.

When the bell for lunch rang, she headed to her locker. She stuffed her books in there and pulled out her stuff for AP French. From there, Kieran meandered towards the soccer fields and sat at the bleachers with Blaine frantically typing on her phone. Kieran's huge curls were down and resting her chin on Blaine's shoulder, some of her black strands fell over the screen.

"Guess who Donnie set you up with for our double date," Blaine sang. Before Kieran could give a snarky comment, Blaine answered, "Logan Tsai." Kieran only dug into her vending machine sandwich. "You're a match made in heaven! He's the 'you' of the basketball team! And you have so much in common: taste in music; favourite pizza toppings; and he thinks DC is better than Marvel too."

"Do you recognise this symbol," Kieran deflected, opening her Math book. "I've been drawing it all day. I can't help but feel that nothing good is going to come from--"

"Vikings," Blaine cut in. Kieran shot her a quizzical furrow. "The series, Vikings. Seen it a couple of times." Kieran sighed weakly then looked down at her sandwich. "You asked."

Kieran looked down to her unassuming fingers. James' mysterious tattoo suddenly didn't seem important anymore. That un-scratchable itch persisted but not as gnawing as the weight of her reality did, in that moment. Blaine put away her phone and leaned her head against Kieran, after shooing the huge curls aside. Kieran clasped one hand in the other and breath a curt exhale.

"I'm going to tell you something." Blaine perked up at that with her huge eyes becoming more owl-shaped. "Last night, before the fire..." Blaine straightened up with her curiosity blazing in the greens of her eyes. Kieran's own dark eyes met hers as she released a soft sigh. "Magnolia told me that she had sold the cottage and... I-I had an outburst."

"She can't do that; you're already eighteen!"

"She sold it long before that."

Blaine huffed her disbelief then shook her head in dismay. Taking in the rued pout Kieran wore, her shocking pink lipstick lips parted. "Ohmygod! Did you start the fire?" Kieran reflected to her insatiable yelling making the shadows around the house stretch for the walls and rupture the sockets. "Psycho little arsonist," Blaine joked. Kieran looked at her weakly. "What? Did you?"

Kieran gave a weak shrug. "The things I said? I might as well have."

"Rie..."

Kieran held up a hand weakly, ending the conversation. "Let's leave it there."

"For now," Blaine warned. "I want the full story because I don't want you harboring this, like that thing with your father." Kieran only replied with a single nod. Blaine's sleek, straight brownish-blonde hair blew in the breeze with Kieran's. "I can't believe she sold the cottage. Is there nothing you could do?"

"No; it all depende on the wording. Because gran said that the cottage will be 'in the care of Magnolia', the law says, 'the legal guardian has the authority over such assets to handle them as they see appropriate'. Would you believe me if I told you I stayed up all night crying?"

"No," Blaine replied shamelessly. "I'd believe you if you told me, you were more bitter than an almond." Kieran ran her hands over her face. "You can admit it."

"I was seconds away from just..." she groaned her fluster. "I should've just gotten on my bike and left." Blaine nestled into her. Kieran teared up and leaned against Blaine. "Please kill me, Blaine."

"Can I kill you after prom committee? Ooh, we have to go dress shopping!" Kieran sighed. "Hey, you pinkie promised when we were eight!"

"Don't remind me."

"As your student body president, I'm dictating that you go. As your best friend, I'm begging you, please don't pick something black."

"I'll stop wearing black when they invent a darker colour."

Ahead, flagging them down, was Donnie and his ever-present baseball jacket. "You're insufferable, you know that?" Blaine kissed her cheek, leaving her lips printed in pink. "The committee has a meeting with Mr. Avery." Kieran rolled her eyes. "In case I don't see you later, don't kill anyone."

When the final bell tolled, Kieran got on her black Kawasaki and sped off into the afternoon. Instead of following her way back, Kieran resorted to a more familiar route. Detouring away from Main Street, towards the woods that surrounded the back end of New Bristol. The road led to the Welcome to New Bristol sign. Underneath it read A Town of Diversity. It was supposed to be white, but the paint had chipped off and the pink and blue paint was sun-bleached. Another sign of how amazingly unassuming the place was.

Kieran's venturing into the town's surrounding trees wasn't too long before she crossed the familiar landmark that marked the private property's domain; a yellow ribbon around a beech tree. Not far from there was a gravel slipway that led up to Doreen Arclight's home. The Kawasaki turned off and Kieran disembarked, seeing the For Sale sign planted in the ground. Seeing it for the first time made bile rise in her throat.

She slowly ran her eyes over every inch of the quaint little garden. It was a contrast to the unkempt forest around the cottage. There, nestled into a small clearing in the forest, was a tiny stone cottage, with jasmine for lattices, winding all the way up and over the thick wooden shingles. Early spring roses bloomed on either side of the little path of flat stones that led up to the quaint arched wooden door.

Away from the cottage - a short walk off the property - was a small clearing. Tall grass and wildflowers ran amok there. Kieran abandoned the tree line for the open meadow.

At the fledgling age of ten, Doreen brought Kieran out there and examined her granddaughter's reddened eyes and cheeks. Black mist-like tendrils had spread over Kieran's fingers that Doreen held. "Let it out," Doreen ordered coldly. Her granddaughter was still swooning over the viridescent ground that was speckled with pink and red and violet and white little flowers. "Let it out."

Kieran looked up to Doreen. Doreen shoved her into the meadow. Kieran laced her blackened fingers before screaming. The shadows slithered off of her. The darkness evaporated into the air with Doreen watching on unbothered. The echoing squawk began jagged before bursting into a full-on cry. The shadows of the trees swayed in a different direction; away from where the sun's trajectory led them. Kieran gasped for air before panting profusely.

She turned back to Doreen and sobbed into the old woman's ribs. "Never hold it in. Holding in your capabilities will corrupt your body and mind."

Kieran squared her shoulders, underneath her motorcycle jacket, taking in the taller grass. Inhaling deeply, Kieran balled her hands into fists. The harrowing shriek retained its echo across the trees. Tears swelled in her eyes. Kieran's shadow splattered into the ground, killing the greenery. Kieran released her inhibitions. Key eyes filled with black. The darkness tore through her and spread further out into the meadow. The gush made the trees across blow coarsely. The trees' shadows rippled and swayed.

The shadows in the meadow burst. Kieran gasped and caved onto her knees. She gave a weak sob then dried her eyes. She looked ahead at the nothingness. Kieran looked to the ground, seeing patches of the meadow dead and wilted from her prowess. The winds picked up, blowing tendrils of shadow off her clothes. Her fully black eyes took in the destruction in her wake. She walked away, hugging herself.

Returning to her bike, Kieran felt lighter albeit while sobbing to herself. In her side mirror, she caught a glimpse of her reflection. Her plump lips parted seeing the veins around her eyes black like her eyes. Trembling fingers staggered to her face, only for the black to fade away. Kieran gasped softly, seeing her face go back to normal. Her breath hitch as she back away yet she didn't look away from her reflection.

"What are we?"

Seeing her reflection remain unchanged, Kieran uneasily reached for her helmet. Without looking away from her reflection, Kieran slid on her helmet. She slid up her visor to examine her eyes a final time. Those dark brown eyes looked towards the cottage a final time. The engine revved to like before Kieran took off, leaving the partially decimated meadow and the vacant home in her rear. With her mind more abuzz than before, Kieran's ride was short-lived and she was swiftly in James Madigan's driveway.

Just looking at the expanse of Georgian house made her deflate. How Magnolia would on and on about the place's trivia when James first brought her here. It was built between 1915 and 1917. The original architecture, gardens, and landscaping are all faithfully preserved; it was inspired by early twentieth century Beaux-Arts design; and the grand library that had an equally grand piano, supposedly. As impressive at the house was, it was far too large and equally quiet for one man, even with a five-man staff.

Begrudgingly Kieran turned off her engine, hearing a car cruising up the length of the overcompensating-ly long driveway. She ignored it and headed inside in a tedious trudge inside. The lavender smacked her nostrils when she let herself in, along with garlic. The curved mahogany banister was a contrast to the few white walls throughout the first floor. The house was dead silent with her Vans' footfalls filling the quiet.

Another set of footsteps came from the garlic-heavy kitchen, followed by James and a wrinkle-heavy grin on his face. "Hey," he sang and Kieran's eyes caved in at the sight of him. Despite that, her eyes - behind her helmet - darted to his hand and his magnetic tattoo. "How was school?"

"Rie," Magnolia called, coming from the kitchen too. "H-hey." Kieran reached for her helmet then hesitated. She made for the stairs. Magnolia unfolded her arms and made Kieran face her. Is everything okay, Magnolia signed. Kieran broke away. Magnolia grabbed her and shot the tinted visor upwards. What's wrong? The sound of the leather straining from Kieran's balled fist was reply enough. "Rie..."

Kieran stepped away from them, looking over Magnolia. "Kieran," James called awkwardly. "I-I, er, um, I got you something." He reached into the kitchen can returned with a soccer ball under a blue stick-on ribbon. "Mom says you're a super star on the field. The backyard's big enough if you ever want to have the team over, or..."

A knock on the door swayed Kieran away from James and Magnolia. On the other side of the dark wooden door the black helmet came face-to-face with the familiar face of Samuel Canon, the landlord. "Hey, Night Crawler," he sang. Kieran stepped aside, feeling Magnolia cupping her shoulder. Magnolia gave a longing frown from the recoil. "Could we talk?"

James gestured to the kitchen and the plump middle-aged man followed the way across the airy foyer, illuminated by the huge crystal chandelier. Samuel's prescription conditioner was doing wonders for his hair loss. His walk was more of a penguin-like waddle on his swelled ankles under his ankle socks. The hibiscus shirt and khaki shorts were his trademark. Kieran lowered her visor, watching the adults venture to the source of the garlic.

"The insurance company is doing an investigation into the fire, but the firefighters say there's no sign of arson." Magnolia nodded weakly as James cupped her lower back. Sameul slid an envelope across the table. "Your deposit. You and Kieran are probably the best tenants I've had in a long time."

Kieran backed away, passing the soccer ball on the table with the flowers. She unnoticeably slithered up to her new room and silent closed the door with a sigh. Alone at last, she removed the helmet but found Anna stocking her wardrobe with garments on hangers and brand-new shoes on the rack. Kieran stepped into her door, catching Anna's attention from her humming. Her short brown hair whipped as she looked to Kieran.

"Oh, hello," she began without slowing in her packing. Kieran looked around the room in confusion. "Oh. James didn't tell you. Yeah, he's replacing all your clothes. By 'replacing all your clothes' I mean he gave me his card and told me to 'fill all drawers and the closet'. Overkill, right?" Kieran didn't say anything. “I didn’t know what you were into,” Anna went on. “I got a bit of everything from couture to counterculture. Mostly counterculture,” Anna added, vividly chuffed with herself.

"Th-thank you."

Anna froze and set down the black and white plaid skirt to regard Kieran. She gave a bright smile then crossed the length of the bed and tilted her head. "Maggie told me you had language delay as a tot. That's why you guys speak Sign Language?"

"Sign, not speak."

"Oh, but you know what I'm saying." Kieran only hugged her helmet tighter. Anna licked her lips before signing, I know a little too. She gave a small laugh. I'm sorry this happened to you, but I'm glad you're here. Anna's smile seemed to stretch unnaturally larger. "The house has been too quiet for too long." A single nod was the only reply. "So would you like to pack away your stuff yourself, or...?"

"I'll do it," Kieran stated.

"Okay, then I'll be out," Anna stated with a grin. "Oh, did Mr. Madigan give you the soccer ball," she ridiculed and Kieran couldn't help the scoff that escaped her. "I told him it was a bad idea. Thoughtful, but bad." Kieran smirked smally. "Let me know if there's stuff you don't like or that doesn't fit, and I'll replace it," the housekeeper concluded before sliding out the door.

Kieran rushed to her vanity, examining her face to find nothing out of the ordinary. She set the helmet on it and sighed her relief. After dropping her backpack, Kieran spent the afternoon going through her new wardrobe. Rearranging Anna's meticulous layout for more organised chaos. Brand new jeans, sweatpants, shorts, skirts, even a few sarongs. The dresses, blouses, shirts, jackets were nails hit on the head, mostly. Kieran was awed then paged through the racks of clothing. Most of which still had tags on them! The assortment of shoes! Boots, brand-new soccer cleats, sneakers, heels, even two pairs of motorcycling boots!

Despite the circumstances, Kieran was impressed with how close to her taste it was, albeit a little uncouth for a stranger to do this. She typed to Blaine, with a photo attached of her packed cupboards. Your new closet is a Pinterest aesthetic, Blaine answered. The dark magic aesthetic. She sent two laughing emojis underneath. After that, she added: Also, WTF!!! Man just restocked your lifestyle? Kieran shrugged to herself before starting to type. If your mother doesn't marry him, I will! She cleared her original reply to type up something else. Is he paying for your prom dress?

"Blaine..." Kieran breathed.

You know I'm kidding right? Stop being so serious. I felt that eye roll through my phone!! Kieran typed back: I hate that you know me this well. Blaine didn't miss a beat, if I didn't, who would? People look at you like a Microsoft update; like no! Kieran huffed. I hate you. Blaine sent hearts after that. Prom dress shopping? I got a tip from my guy at Signature that newer, BETTER stock is coming closer to prom. PS. this is why I said no to going in Jan or Feb when everyone else does. Kieran tapped her thumb on the sides of her phone. Want me to send the catalogue so you can start hating the options I pick out for you in advance, Blaine asked after her previous message.

Before Kieran could start typing, Magnolia let herself in. "Dinner's ready," she purred chipperly. "James made your favourite." The way Magnolia sang it was paired with her bouncing on her toes. "What are you doing," she jeered then grabbed her daughter's phone and started reading her conversation.

Kieran said nothing.

Maybe Logan will ask you to be his date! Magnolia looked up to her with her giddy snuffed out. "Who's Logan?" Again, Kieran said nothing. "Kieran Brielle Arclight!"

Kieran folded her arms and gave a light whip in her head to shoo her hair. "He's on the basketball team and I've hardly spoken to..."

"No! No, no, no. No boys." Shamelessly Magnolia started typing back to Blaine. "Do you have this Logan's number?" Without waiting for an answer, Magnolia was scrolling through Kieran's contacts. Kieran stood silent and awaited her mother's uneventful prying. "No boys," Magnolia hissed then handed over the phone. "Dinner, now!"

Magnolia stormed off. Hi, Magnolia, Blaine wrote back. Kieran looked above that to the previous message. No boys, Blaine. I don't date. Kieran replied back: she went through my phone again. The laughing emojis were followed with, and she wonders why you don't tell her anything. Kieran pursed her lips then concluded. We 3 are having dinner together and added vomit emojis before tucking away her phone.

Kieran looked into her mirror, to examine her eyes. The flip-top vanity that was also jam-packed with brand-new makeup, in her colour palette, and fresh brushes. There was also an array of nail polishes and nail care things too. Kieran sighed then made exeunt into the lavender perfume and down the grand staircase. Magnolia's laughter resounded off the empty house's walls, along with James' deep chuckles.

Kieran sighed then trailed into the kitchen to see them already sitting and sipping wine. Kieran slumped into seat that was already set, between either one of them. True to Magnolia's word, James went out of his way to make Kieran's favourite: risotto and lemon garlic butter salmon. Something Doreen started. An unorthodox crone who went bowfishing down by the river not too far away from her home.

It was an intriguing hobby that Kieran swooned over Doreen doing. One day, Doreen explained the few differences between bowfishing and conventional bowhunting. Just sitting on the boat, under the sun, listening to the water. Her capabilities getting out of hand, but it was fine because Doreen was there and nobody was around to get hurt. It was fun conversing with Doreen, even with her language delay. Doreen's sloppy signing and Kieran's sloppy sentences led to miscommunication but a lot of laughs too.

At the end of their little fishing spree, Doreen would cook up their catch and Kieran would help by gutting and de-boning the fish. Sometimes Doreen wouldn't cook the fish on the stove. The pan would rest on her palm and her blue fire would have the oil searing hot. Kieran would watch... fascinated... with darkness permeating off her. They would eat on the grass of the meadow to eat then watch the stars. It was a welcomed break from primary school bullies.

Now - with the same, exact dish before her that had none of the rustic or memories - Kieran was silent. Her unkempt curls fell down to her ribs, as opposed to splattering on the ground like rays of a black sun. Magnolia was still laughing while holding James' hand didn't let go of her. In contrast to Doreen and Kieran, Magnolia had straight blonde hair. Her hereditary dark eyes looked from her boyfriend to her daughter. The supporting silence was deafening.

Magnolia released a breath of defeat then sat straighter. "Look, Rie, I really am sorry about this. You know I would have probably waited several months after establishing how serious we are before getting you involved. But look at it this way; now you can..."

"Thank you for the stuff," Kieran interjected, looking to James. S~ᴇaʀᴄh the Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

The narrow in her eyes was cold enough to send a shiver down his spine. James gave a curt nod only. Magnolia looked between them. "You couldn't say that a little less backhandedly?" Kieran's eyes turned on her mother. "I give up," Magnolia breathed then slouched into her seat. She took a long swig of her wine then topped up her glass. "Why are you so upset with me?"

"You sold the cottage," Kieran answered sternly. "To get a reaction." She didn't break eye contact with Magnolia's pleading eyes. "Do expect me to say, 'thank you'?"

"You have all her money, and this was just one little house that wasn't going to be doing anything after you go to university."

"It was fully paid up, and it was mine."

"Okay," James piped up. "It's been a long past couple of hours, and we're all a little on edge still." Kieran looked back to James and caught a glimmer of the tattoos on his left hand and arched an eyebrow at him. Again, he caught her looking at the Vegvísir. "See? Kieran has the right idea. We're heading down the wrong direction, right now, so why don’t we just have dinner and get to know each other?"

Kieran reached for her fork. A soft sizzling came from the burning touch. She dropped her hand, earning James' attention. She looked down at the fork to find it as she found it. The burn on her fingers meant one thing: iron. "I'm not hungry," she spat and stood.

"Kieran, sit down." She ignored her mother and stepped away from the small dinner table that didn't go with the grandiose of the rest of the house. "Put your ass in that chair!" Her daughter didn't desist from her charted route back to the staircase. "Kieran Brielle Arclight, I am your mother!"

"In memory of when I cared," were Kieran's last words.

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