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Silky stared off into the inky black sky speckled with dozens of far-far away stars.
Her pale legs dangled off the overgrown banister dozens of feet off the ground. Resting under the armada was an overrun garden. Once a beautiful ground, now full of invasive and intimidating thorns that crawled up the castle's towering walls.
She sat, recalling last moon's ball she begrudgingly attended in light of an old friend.
It was a grand ball, organized for all the creatures of Waterdale.
Vampires,
werewolves,
centaurs,
fairies,
griffins,
mermaids,
and of course Witches.
Witches
Her mind stuck onto the alchemists. Sinking deeper into her thoughts.
At the ball, while sitting alone with a glass of mediocre A+ blood, a witch approached her.
The witch's hair was long and matted with a crown of herbs resting atop her brunette head. Her skin was a deep tan with black beauty marks speckling her body. A poofy white dress cut right above her knees with ruffles around the edges covered her dainty body flatteringly. Atop the white gown was a celadon apron with lace touches and a pocket in front holding an array of flowers and jars full of obscure liquids. Her face looked young, twenties at least. Which was odd for most common-folk, but they weren't common-folk, so she had dismissed the thought. Her eyes were green, hooded and oddly emotionless yet so telling at the same time.
She continued scanning the witch, eyes falling to her lips. A pair of white fangs barely poked out under her top lip. At the time she zoned out, not hearing a word the other girl said. All she could do was stare at this 'witch's' fangs. She couldn't fathom if this alchemist fangs were because she was a vampire or merely just a trick of the light.
Shortly after the quaint woman attempted to strike a conversation, Silky had noticed a ray of sunlight breaching through the window. With a quick apology she bolted away, not thinking twice of the woman.
But, after acquiring a constant reminder, she can't get the oddly charming girl out of her thoughts.
Silky broke free from her spiraling thoughts with a sigh.
She brushed a hand over a vine twisting its way through the balustrade and up to the handrail she sat upon. Her finger lightly tapped the end of one of its many thorns adorning the vine's lush body. It's thorn piercing her delicate finger and drawing a tad bit of blood. She lifted her hand as a bead of blood rolled down to her palm. Her coarse tongue glided up the bead's red trail, sucking the end of her finger clean with a quiet 'pop.'
Her legs swung over the vines dangerous grasp, and onto the ill-matched stone balcony's sturdy floor. Bare feet glided attentively from the cool stone, and into its attached open room.
The high intricate windows were enveloped in a deep purple satin curtain. The walls were made of an ancient black wood. Carved with ornate detailing of odd shapes consistently wrapping around the rooms walls like a chair rail, and smoothing out like a wave as it crept upward.
Silky glanced at a grey leather trunk - currently being used as a nightstand - placed beside a wall-mounted coffin. Her knees thudded against the wooden ground as she swiped her hand over the littered chest. Snapping open the latches and pushing open the creaking lid. Within the trunk was an array of junk, topped with a single seal-cracked letter. The paper was opulent, folded nicely and stamped with a round bottle shaped emblem over its folded part.
Silky's tail thudded against the floor rhythmically, as her gentle hands picked up the envelope like it would shatter at any moment. Her finger massaged the cool wax seal before folding the pre-opened paper open. Scanning the graceful writing before her with her ghastly white pupils.
" The Dear Mistress of Vineyard Palace,
I hold dear the brief exchange we had.
Alas it was just a moment to you, but
an eternity in my heart.
After your abrupt departure I knew
I must find you again.
I have gone far lengths to locate you,
and am sending this owl to bestow
this message to you.
Finding you has been no simple task.
Yet I know you're the one.
On the fifth moon of your acquisition
of my letter, I will arrive at your abode.
Please make it known I am not arriving
to harm you, but to reunite with the
one I felt as though I lost on that
faithful day.
If paranoia is struck within you let it
be known I will arrive with three soft
knocks to your main entrance.
I yearn for the time I see you again.
Much benevolence,
Tarragon of the Dark Plantation"
Silky, upon first receiving the letter, thought it was from one of the princes she meandered with briefly at the ball. Though after much thought she pieced it together to be the quaint witch who spoke with her before she left. She cursed herself for leaving the alchemist without a word.
She folded the paper back up as delicately as she had opened it. Placing it back within the trunk and shutting the latches. She stood, leaving the mess by the box and exiting the room.
Her steps became more random with each passing second, prancing through the long halls happily.
Today was the fifth moon since the owl delivered the beautiful note right to her balcony. She could hardly wait to see her guest standing on the porch eager to see her again.
Each step she took down the spiral stairs felt like a second closer to her love.
The thought made her pause, hands wrapped around the banister. Her tail ceased its wild movements almost instantly.
Love?
No, no, no that's to far. I've barely even spoken a word to her. She cursed herself internally for even thinking the word love. Her life was too long to even glance at the possibility of love.
She ran her tongue over her fangs, continuing down the stairs much slower.
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
The sound startled her to the floor. Her head darted around at the pile of clothes encircling her. With a few blinks turning from confused, to realization, to mild annoyance, she looked down at her furry silk white paws. Her long ears twitched as she abandoned her mound of clothes and paced down the hall. Her tail swished slowly as it stood straight up like a rod.
Silky's light footsteps echo through the castle's vast hallways.
The walls were a nearly pitch black to keep light out, and were adorned with purple banners and matching accent decor.
She twists her flexible torso to the left - scratching her spine against the wall's wooden beam - heading down another hallway calling off abruptly at two doors reaching just to the ceiling.
Vines and branches interpose the delicately crafted entrance in a weave-like motion. Was the knock her guest?
This thought made her tail swish noncompliantly, nearly having her topple over. She catches herself with one of her snowy paws over the wool lavender carpet snaking down the remaining hall. Continuing forward till the curtained off doors loomed over her intimidatingly.
KNOCK
KNOCK
KNOCK
It repeated
The knock!
Just what she was hoping for. Her tail flies through the air as she pounces for the iron ring pull handle four feet above her. She successfully clenched her jaw around the jagged handle, dangling the rest of her body limply against the dark wood. Her hind legs kick the neighboring door, and with a swell of power it opened. With a quiet thud she fell back to the ground. Awaiting to see her visitor.
Staring down at her is the same long haired, sun kissed witch she met at the party. Her dress is even the same as well.
The witch kneels down, extending a hand to the four legged friend blocking the entrance.
"Hello there," She smiles lightly. "Are you a pet or are you the lovely mistress I've been awaiting?" Her hand scratches the back of the cat's ear. Much to the delight of Silky.
Silky gets a good look at the witches face again. There, right under her lip as she smiles. Two small fangs protrude ever so slightly out of her mouth. She continues to stare at the visitor like an attraction. The woman just scoops her up gently with both arms, stepping into the foyer.
"Tarragon," She blurts out. "My name, is Tarragon," She finishes her thought, staring down at her furry companion.
Tarragon continues her walk down the long hallways. She marvels at the extravagant home with a sense of wonder in her sparkling green eyes. The eyes that Silky can't help but also marvel at.
Tarragon stops in her tracks. Silky was so entranced by her guest she hadn't realized they were at the bottom of the grand staircase. Tarragon picked up the clothes scattered on the wooden steps with a free hand as the pair ascended up.
Tarragon walked into one of the many vacant rooms, "I'll let you get dressed," The girl spoke softly. Placing Silky down, as well as the cat's previous clothes.
As the door closed Silky returned to her 'normal' form. Staring down at her thin pale body looming over the pile of mismatched clothing. She picked them up one by one, putting the garments on as she gathered them. She ruffled her pin-straight black hair till she thought it was good enough. Without a reflection, sprucing up can be quite challenging. After putting everything on she felt a little ashamed. Tarragon wore this beautiful dress, but all she could manage were bloomers, and a large blouse stopping above her knees.
She hesitantly opened the door. Tarragon looked just as curious as herself.
The two just stared in awkward silence for a moment. Taking in the other.
"It's good to finally see you after what felt like an eternity," Tarragon spoke with that same gentle-monotone voice. Wrapping one of her caramel hands over Silky's ghostly one.
"You as well," Silky finally mustered after staring in silence for a little too long. "I have a room," She blurted, "That we can chat in. Like a lounge." She clarified. Maintaining as little eye-contact as she could.
The pair walked through the halls - filling the silence with fiddly small talk - retracing their steps to a much smaller room.
The room was cozy. A glass chandelier hung from the high ceiling Bookshelves packed with dust covered books lined the walls, flanked by the shelves was a brick fireplace homing a weak flame. Two floral couches rested in front of the welcoming fire, as if placed there by dumb luck.
"I never have guests," Silky spoke running a thin hand over one of the couches. "It's a miracle this room even exists. I haven't been here in ages," She finished speaking, but continued to allow her ghostly eyes to wander about the room.
Tarragon in the neighboring chair. Crossing her legs as she spoke, "It's a lovely place you have here..." she paused. "Lots of vegetation."
Silky chuckled lightheartedly, "Yeah, the palace is too big for me to maintain all by myself." she seated herself as well. Leaning her head on her hand.
"I'm a gardener," The witch said, pulling handheld glass jars from her apron, offering the vampire one.
She accepted the gesture. Holding the small container in her hands and popping off the lid. "Really?" her eyes widened, "And what's this?" she swirled the vessel in her hand and took a small sniff.
Tarragon nodded, "Here, I can show you," she smiled.
Next thing Silky knew their hands were interlocked as Tarragon raced to find an exit.
Silky wasn't much help, just staring at the swirl of their clasped hands. She only ceased her ogling when the cool night air nipped at her skin and pulled her hair through the strong wind.
Tarragon pointed to the stem of a vine that had twisted its way all the way to the top of the castle's towering roof. She grabbed the small jar out of Silky's grasp. Tilting it just enough to let one droplet trickle onto its green body. Silky stared in awe as the vine shriveled up in merely seconds.
"It looks intimidating," Tarragon spoke. Returning the glass to Silky. "but it kills anything impure. Meaning it can cure illnesses and even kill invasive species like vines."
Silky didn't understand a word she said, but watching the girl talk was entrancing nonetheless.
"I'm more of a herbalist than a gardener. I use herbs in potions and such," she kept on. Walking deeper into the thick vegetation.
Without thinking, Silky grasped her hand around the other's wrist. Tarragon froze, staring back at the vampire.
Silky paused. Contemplating her words carefully.
"Are you?" she said in a hushed whisper, staring at Tarragon's fangs. "Like ya know?" She ended, flashing her fangs as indication.
Tarragon sighed, freeing herself from the others grip.
"Yes, but I'm different." she replied with a little more emotion than usual.
"Different?" Silky repeated.
"I'm only half vampire. I was born a witch, but was bitten later on in life."
"Half..." silky nodded, "I've never met anyone like you. That's so cool."
The smile Silky held was enough to make Tarragon melt, but she kept her composure and only smiled back.
The couple returned back into the castle and the quaint little room. Chatting and - after much hesitation - Silky poofed back into a pile of clothes. Hopping onto the still chatting girls lap as the white kitten she met her as.
Tarragon returned the favor, turning into a short-haired black cat, and rested curled up next to the other.
The company stayed for a day,
then a week,
a week turned into a month,
and shortly, they unofficially lived together.
Talking and gardening together in their dark world.