Chapter Text
Murky sunlight was just barely creeping over the edges of a city overlaid with fog. The air was damp, another promise of rain on the horizon as late autumn came to blanket the land with its deceptive softness. The cobblestones glittered harshly against the spectacle of the setting sun, and all began to be quiet under the weight of nighttime fast approaching.
The great iron gates of the city began to creak open as a man walked through, his attire filthy; stains from dirt and grass collecting at his knees and wrists. Within a satchel hanging at his side peaked white blooms, impeccably pristine against the muddied demeanor of his clothes. He walked carefully, but with purpose, testing the slick ground as he went along his way to one of the buildings whose candles still shone brightly against the damp air.
Hanging greenery and the smells of spice greeted the man and the lone occupant of the building as hushed words were passed between sticks weaving tart trails of delectable aromas into the air.
The encounter was short and sweet, as most things tended to be as the city fell dormant. The man waved a hand up and said goodbye, turning on his heel in a practiced sense of ease towards the farther end of town. All errands completed, he had no loose thoughts left to tail.
Except for one, a little distraction that catches the eye. Underneath the sill of a quiet home lies a bush smattered with pink flowers. The blooms are salty, as are most from the area, and yet it is a curiosity the man cannot resist. He once more bends to the earth, pulling out a little notebook from the same place his flowers lie; eagerly taking notes and sketching out this one’s particular qualities.
A knife is brandished next; different from those used to defend oneself, yet just as sharp. He takes small samples from the plant: just enough for him to study and allow it to continue living. Never take too much, nature is always watching.
Yet it is not this particular patron that is eyeing the figure down in the dirt.
The movements of the man speed up, seemingly having noticed the sun is running farther and farther past the horizon line. With the moon yet to crest over the forest beyond the city, the sky was still a mix of bleeding and sun-kissed; yet it would be unwise to tarry, so tarry he won’t.
With a glance thrown at one of the main clock towers in the area, the scrupulous man puts away his tools and prize and hurries along, careful not to trip or lose his way in between the fog.
Yet his pace suddenly comes to a halt, ears pricked up in alert.
A child’s cry was coming somewhere from between the buildings.
Loud, desolate.
Squinting, he takes but a moment to peer between the inky blackness perpetuated by the solid brick. Yet as quickly as it began, the crying had ceased, and there was no sight of someone in peril.
Worried, yet conscious of the loss of daylight, he considers it to have been the wind–hopefully nobody was in too dire need of help.
Though it is his hesitance and the kindness of his heart that gets him knocked over sharply onto the flagstones.
A gasp is ripped from him as his head knocks against the dull rocks–yet nothing is as pressing as the hand and claws that squeeze around his windpipe. The man is out of his daze in but a moment, feeling his aid to be knocked out of his grasp and his hands pushed into the hard edges of the stones beneath him. A wild thing with the strength of a bear is holding him down, and he realizes a moment too late that a vampire has gotten a hold of him.
His attempts at direct retaliation are useless in the face of a snarling, rabid thing; and the feeling of hot pain–all white and blinding and consuming–strikes his shoulder in a way that may as well have shattered the bones along with it.
The man attempts to scream, but the claws are back around his neck, cutting off his air.
Deep cuts begin to litter his body as the vampire drags him, light as anything, into the darkness he’d been so weary of before.
Yet if the creature overpowering him has the zeal of something feral, the man has the spirit of a wild, unruly hurricane.
Magic, bright and hoary began to exude from the poor soul in waves, pulsating and swelling and curdling him from something solid into something livid. His assailant let out a deep, guttural sound, smoke rising from its body as the magic burned and ravaged.
This magic was deeply entwined to the victim’s soul, and repelled what dared to touch its temple.
The sky cracks open with light, blinding the world for but a moment as monstrous thundering erupts across the city in a show of explosive might.
When the magic dissipates, all that is left is a scorching trail of blood; red and unending, for the man has retrieved his wits and, with what little strength adrenaline offers him, runs.
The world tilts, and yet he keeps going; past the city without a trace of life, past the gates meant to protect, and into the wood that surrounds them all like a ring of barbarous briars.
Where will he go? He can feel his body becoming numb and begin to revolt as it fights the creeping hand of ice that has entered his system.
Wherever he ends up, he only knows one thing for sure.
He will not become the monster that attacks those he loves.
7 days.
Just past a hundred and sixty-eight hours.
No one has seen sight of him.
White Lily continued to pace in the confines of her home, hands so deeply pressed within her arms that dark marks were left as a sign of her worry.
An entire week since Pure Vanilla had gone missing, and nobody had been able to locate him. The only trace of a disturbance anyone had found was a stain of blood near one of the east-most alleyways...but they hadn’t been able to link it to him.
Outside the walls of the city most of the Organization had been delegated for this search; to find a trace of dough, clothing, jam, anything. Yet nothing was spotted. No body found.
Lily’s heart squeezed so badly at her own inaction. Though it wasn’t as if her friends were allowing her to even help look for him. She’d been deemed too much of a risk; too ‘willing to fall off a cliff looking for him’ as Golden Cheese so helpfully explained.
They’d all told her they’d find him. They were worried too. It wasn’t fair to think they weren’t doing their best, using every resource they had, and spreading the word.
But nothing? At all?
Lily wasn’t dense, there were only so few outcomes to explain why someone had gone missing. She’d already spent an entire night sick to high heaven thinking of one of them, and she refused to revisit the thought process again.
He wasn’t gone, he was still alive.
They just hadn’t found him yet.
She just hadn’t found him yet.
Her steps may as well have worn a groove in the floor. She couldn’t just sit here and worry and worry until he magically came home. No, she didn’t care if her friends thought it too dangerous for her, she was going to find him.
She’d sat idle for long enough.
White Lily climbed from the rut of her fears and grabbed her dagger, her staff, and her coat; everything she would need to brave the night and come out of it alive. Come out not alone.
The quiet over the past few days had been deafening as she was put on a pseudo-house arrest at the behest of her friends. They insisted she try to keep calm and stay here just in case their friend showed back up.
Just in case.
She hadn’t been able to sleep for half of those nights; replaying the events of the week over and over again in her head. Noticing everything that was wrong, everything that felt off….
Including a loss of routine she’d come to find she hated.
Sending letters was the only way she and Vanilla had regularly kept in touch for so long. They were both so busy with work, so it provided little time for catching up in person. Truthfully Lily looked forward to such letters; they were always sweet smelling and had petals included within the envelope.
Pure Vanilla was always cordial and punctual with each letter he sent, and he never let one go unanswered, even if he couldn’t write much.
The first day he’d missed sending anything back, she’d figured work must be bogging him down.
The second day it went unanswered she’d been uneasy, unfocused. This hadn’t ever happened before.
She’d went to his cottage then, hoping he hadn’t locked himself inside burning the midnight oil.
There had been no response.
The house had lain empty; not even a breath of warm scent left in the air.
Lily had alerted the Organization before nightfall.
He hadn’t been seen yet.
Now she laced up her boots, counting in her head to a steady rhythm to even out her breathing. This was happening, she was doing this; she didn’t care who saw or what words they sent her way. She wasn’t coming back without him.
Once up, she gave herself a look in the mirror.
Tired, dejected, livid.
She left her home under the cover of night without so much as a whisper.
White Lily considered herself a good hunter.
She had learned from the best, though she didn’t dare think herself to be as good as Hollyberry. She supposed it was time to put all those skills to the test, though it was terribly agonizing that it had to be in this way.
She’d gone off the beaten path to the west, knowing at least this was the road less traveled. Supposedly, search parties would have looked out into the deepness of this dead forest; but she could never be too sure. With no clear way to know how Vanilla had gone missing, he very well could have taken the footpaths out of town down the trade roads.
Though Lily didn’t believe that, not for one second. Pure Vanilla had no reason to leave; none she could think of anyway. He was so absorbed in...whatever he was doing for the Organization that leaving it behind sounded like a laughable offense. Besides, he wasn’t one to abandon his duties like this.
No, there was a more sinister reason for his disappearance.
Scouring the undergrowth as she went, Lily felt a chill settle in as the night air grew colder with winter just on the horizon. There had to be a sign; if there was nothing closer to town there was surely something farther outside of it. It’d been a week since he was last seen, and supposedly that meant any clues had become stale...but she had to hold out hope. She refused to entertain the worries in the back of her head.
Though finding any kind of lead meant he made it this far along in the first place.
Unlike herself and Holly, Vanilla was not one for hunting at all. He hated harming animals, much less killing them.
Lily wasn’t sure if he could stomach killing a creature just to prolong his own life.
And so she looked for smaller signs; a fading scent, a hint of magic, petals, anything to indicate he may have passed by. Her friend may not have always been surefooted, but he tried to walk in a straight line whenever possible. However, the leaf litter here was dense, not even a hint of an animal’s passing could be seen within all these leaves. If he left footprints, they were long covered.
No sign of life, no sign of death.
A horrible limbo that made her stomach constrict into knots.
The moon began its slow crawl overhead as Lily checked, double checked, and triple checked every inch of the forest she walked through. The trees, the dirt, even the air itself was all under scrutiny. Every so often she’d hear the leaves rustle and feel her heart leap into her throat, only to find it a critter of the night; natural and curious, all smaller than her by half and paying her little to no mind.
Lily wasn’t going to call herself a paranoid cookie, but the longer she went the more she began looking over her shoulder. She’d lingered long enough outside the walls that her own scent must have permeated the area by now. Every little creature must have known she was here by this point, and potentially on her own. There might not just be mice and crickets scurrying by soon enough; and it wasn’t too unreasonable to assume her search became more frantic in turn.
Going out at night alone was foolish, she knew this.
But every second they weren’t looking for Vanilla was the longer he was lost.
He could be injured, or sick; unable to find his way back home, or worse–
No, no, we won’t think of this. He’s fine, he’ll be fine.
The crunching of dried leaves and dead grass began to distract her. Every so often she’d pause as she advanced, peering towards the denser section of trees and watching for any sort of movement. She was being loud on purpose, trying to see if anything responded to her actions, but not being able to hear another creature coming was costly.
There was a part of her that wished to call out for him, but in the quiet of this wood her voice would carry. Who knew what could be watching her already, speaking would simply put them both in unnecessary danger.
Even if she so desperately wished to hear his voice answer back.
Every step continued to echo louder and louder in Lily’s ears until it felt like her own shaky heartbeat was haunting her.
She’d been so focused on the increment of sounds she hadn’t looked where she was going, and let out a deep hiss as the tip of her foot hooked on a gnarled root.
Lily bit her lip and swallowed the dull pain, glaring down at the offending object with a look of disdain before halting.
Moonflowers, perfectly pristine if it weren’t for the dark spots that tainted them.
She descended so quickly into the dirt her chest warbled; coughing only the smallest bit as she took the delicate blossoms into her hands and turned them every which way.
A dark substance–not quite like rot–had splattered across the flowers in such an uneven pattern. It had seeped into the petals themselves and left marks much like an uneasy blot of ink upon paper. Yet these spots were not...dark like dried jam. It certainly looked like it, though.
However,
She was positively sure jam didn’t turn purple when it was exposed to the air.
This flower patch all held the same observations; white petals taking on the burden of someone’s pain.
It could be anything.
But Lily wasn’t going to take something this odd for granted.
Plucking the stem of the plant just so, White Lily stuffed one of the flowers into her coat pocket and looked further around the path of moonflowers, finding the strange substance didn’t end there. There was a trail, sparse in length and frequency, but a trail nonetheless.
And as luck would have it, the path of stains didn’t end so soon. Looking down in the undergrowth revealed some blotches that were bigger than others, and a more concave shape in the leaf litter that suggested something dallied in the area. Ever onward the grass, the rocks and even the roots of the tree systems revealed the signs of a fleeing struggle.
The knots in her stomach only grew tighter as she followed, transfixed not as much against her will as uneasily. This could still be anything, from anything, but her mind unhelpfully began to fill in the blanks for her, supplying her with the worst case scenarios for what could be at the end of the road and what or who she might find–
Lily had to stop and take in a breath, screwing her eyes shut and shaking her head. Hush, hush hush, it was fine, he was fine, everything was fine.
When she opened her eyes again, that breath got caught in her throat.
The tree beside her, an old aging oak–held deep claw marks engraved within it.
Sharp and uneven in their intensity, the grooves in the bark reached from just below her shoulder crawling downwards towards the ground; like something was falling with the movement.
Or attempted to hold up their weight.
Lily tore her eyes away and hurried forward with a new sense of urgency.
The forest continued to become more and more dead and decrepit as she stumbled within the rougher, coarser terrain. This side of the land never quite followed nature’s whims and went into full bloom when the spring season came around. A few leaves stubbornly emerged from the branches come summer; but nothing ever so substantial for one to look among the sight and label them healthy trees.
Old tales passed from cookie to cookie say a dragon descended upon this stretch of land, intending for the wood to become a nice home for it and its offspring. However, the dessert creatures of the land in those times were not so welcoming. As a show of dominance they’d slain the dragon’s young, hoping to drive away the creature from the land altogether with such a gruesome show of power.
However the dessert creatures were quite vain. They feared no dragon, simply sharing land they thought rightfully theirs. However much they outnumbered the dragon, they hadn’t quite accounted for the anger that would spawn from taking all that was precious away from it.
The dragon, heartbroken and enraged–for it had done no wrong–scorched this land and its inhabitants so terribly it never allowed for anything bountiful to take root ever again.
However, that was simply a tall tale, and not backed by much scientific evidence or study...some others within their respective fields speculated the force of life powder was at its weakest here, for plants indeed took far longer to sprout and take root than they should. The trees in particular suffered the most, though consequently it left room for the plants usually shadowed by their leaves to absorb a little more sunlight. As a result, the dead land could be seen from afar, but being inside its decay showed more flowers and grasses trying their best to grow with what little they were offered.
Many said it was like winter had engulfed this one area of the world permanently, leaving no room for anything to live comfortably. It was always a struggle for the flora...and similarly little fauna frequented the forest as a result.
It was very aptly named Dead Sugar Wood.
Lily was simply hoping against hope all she had seen would not spell out the same fate for the one she was searching for.
She had to stop and take a break.
However much she wished for her body to not have its own needs, reality didn’t quite work that way. It was getting colder, and her legs were slightly numbing. Lily had to lean against a tree and rub them, though she never took her eyes away from the dark trail for more than a few moments.
There was no telling what she was following...or if this was even from Vanilla at all.
She very well may have a search party sent out for herself come morning if she found no concrete traces of him.
The consequences for leaving past curfew...may be severe. If her friends didn’t drill a lesson into her skull then the higher ups of the Organization would.
Lily grunted softly, working a fist into the softness of her legs to drive away the dull radiating pain. She was more than ready to endure such lectures; it’s not as if she hadn’t heard them before.
But this time, there was no quashing her spirit. She would find him. Even if she had to sneak out every night, even if the trail grew cold, even if it had come to pass he had left town for whatever reason under the sun.
Until she saw him again, she wasn’t stopping until she herself was down in the Earthbread.
The huntress looked up with pallid eyes, spying the moon peeking through drifting clouds. Beyond it, the entire sky was sparkling with brilliant stars, painting the dark scene with beautiful, sweeping patterns; just bright enough to light up the night with a gentle glow. Lily could just make out a few constellations when the clouds permitted, naming them softly under her breath.
It reminded her of a gentler time, when a little boy dragged a book full of ridges and bumps to her side and read aloud all about the stars lost to him in the sky.
How he was so excited that one day, he might get to see them for himself.
Lily took in a deep breath.
Her jaw set.
She ignored the stinging pain crawling down her legs and continued forward.
The trail dipped along a more wobbly path as she followed, as if whomever left it were beginning to lose their balance. The traces of the dark stains seemed to be getting sparser...it was getting harder to see them amongst the darkness. Lily belatedly realized she should have brought her lantern to look for clues better….but perhaps that would have put her in even more danger…
She squinted down at the disturbed earth beneath her feet and tried concentrating on the uneven shapes against the leaf litter. The stain she was following seemed to veer off to the left, then the right before–
“Ack-!” Lily stumbled back from the force of something halting her advance, eyes widening as she glanced upwards to a thick black wall.
Or perhaps it was not so thick, it looked more like smoke than anything. Though smoke did not congregate so densely into a sheer wall and not expand further than its limits...this oddity appeared as if all the contents inside were confined. As far upwards as she could see did this ‘wall’ extend, and glancing aside her produced much the same observations.
She’d walked straight into it...though it hadn’t felt quite so solid…?
Lily reached out a hand towards the sweeping black gasses and pressed as deep as she could...feeling a certain amount of resistance meet her fingers; like pushing into dough.
It was so cold...yet not like the cold of the atmosphere, more simply as if she were touching metal.
Shuddering, she rubbed her hands together and backed away from the strange apparition. It was...certainly interesting, and she’d be lying if she said her curiosity wasn’t piqued, but there wasn’t any time for her to….
Lily blinked, bringing her hand back up to her face. Wait…she could have sworn she’d caught a whiff of–
Vanilla.
It wasn’t just her hand, now that she took a moment to breathe deeper, this entire area smelled so very strongly of her friend. It practically choked the air, how hadn’t she–?
There was no time for that, Lily felt as if her heart would burst. She studied the wall closer, pressing against it with all the might she contained. Was he trapped? Had something confined him here? She tried to look beyond the darkness but found nothing but swirling matter. Her brain was racing faster than she could comprehend as she continued pushing deeper into the barrier. Why wouldn’t this thing let up? It was perfectly malleable and yet she couldn’t get through!
Ok, ok. Step back, take a breath (the entire atmosphere threatened to choke up her lungs), think. No wall was completely impenetrable. This one simply seemed made of magic...she just needed to find the spell to break it.
She...admittedly knew very few, if anything Vanilla was the one who was more knowledgeable about magic than her...but he wasn’t here right now.
Taking a taller stance and another deep breath, Lily held her staff out in front of her and stared down the wall, willing the essence of the earth to find its way to her fingertips. She concentrated, thinking of the space in front of her and how she wished for it to be punctured–before channeling the energy into her staff and slamming it into the ground with a mighty flourish.
With her movements the ground began to rumble and churn. Dark tangled vines then sprouted from the dead earth and began to shoot towards the wall, pressing deeply into its surface before continuing right through it!
There was no resistance at all! She almost couldn’t believe it; and yet the clouds hadn’t dissipated. They stood ever swirling and resolute, almost mocking her with how simply the thorns had flew through it with no change to its surface whatsoever.
Lily cautiously approached the wall and attempted once more to peer through it...she reached her hand out once more and sought to feel if the thorns made any holes.
Only for her hand to slip right through.
Gentle and unassuming.
Lily stood partially in awe at how her hand had disappeared at the wrist, before shaking herself back into focus. This was not the time to be amazed! Her friend could be in peril!
Yet as she hurried and stepped through the thick wall of darkness, she found that it did more than create a barrier. The entirety of the inside of this space nearly stole her breath upon entry. She stumbled for a good moment and had to use her staff to keep herself upright as her heart leapt and stuttered within her chest.
It was as if the very air was pressing itself down on her, and it took more energy than she thought to crane her head up to look at what lay hidden within this magical field.
A house, or to be more precise, a broken down manse. It was dilapidated and multi-floored, with architecture that spoke more of a rich presence and an artist’s keen skills. It hadn’t been touched in ages no doubt...and yet she spied the rest of the dark trail looping up the stairs.
There was no mistaking it then; this had to have been his jam.
With a grip that was bordering on deadly tight, White Lily propelled herself onward through the thick fog, trying to keep her eyes focused and on the front doors to the house. Everything was starting to sway, and not just because her legs were tiring–yet she bit her tongue and trudged step by step closer to where she prayed her friend might lie; in one piece, whole, alive.
Her heart was thundering very fast in her chest, which was also tightening to a painful degree. Getting breaths inside was astronomically painful due to the deep magic and the thick cloying scent of flowers in the air.
By the time she made it up the rotten stairs her head was hurting; a dull pounding near her eyes that made it even harder to keep them open. The air–this miasma–only seemed to worsen the closer she got to its source. Trudging up by the once-grand doors, her theory was only proven correct as a cough ripped itself from her throat, followed by a painful fit of wheezing to get air safely back inside her lungs.
Yet as she stood there regaining her wits, a series of low noises began to pervade the eerie silence of the space. It sounded like something was skittering around just beyond the door, scratching incessantly at what she could only assume were floors lost to time. Her heart stammered, but she dare not call out his name yet. It wasn’t safe until she got inside.
Trying the doorknob found the old thing to nearly be rusted in place, yet a good spell of vines fixed that problem quickly. Lily thought herself to be thinking a little clearer at least if she could cast magic, soon pressing her side against the door to shove it open the rest of the way.
Before she could even cross the threshold, she heard the wet intoning of a caterwaul.
She froze just as she was covering her face with her coat; dust had risen up to meet her in dizzying quantities, leaving a faint tickle in her throat. The noises of a struggle continued somewhere in the pitch blackness of the manse, sounding more and more increasingly desperate. She swept her gaze around, spying only outlines of furniture and the decaying wood under her feet.
White Lily swallowed her nerves, moving her hand as silently as she could to the dagger at her side. She gripped the handle rather tightly as she breathed out. “Hello…? Vanilla? Are you in here?”
Her voice carried farther than she thought it would. This place certainly seemed bigger on the inside than it did outside...yet she was worried when the sound became hushed and nothing greeted her. The scent of her friend was overwhelming within this manse; there was no way it wasn’t him inside. She raised her voice and tried again, only to be met with the same creeping quiet.
Lily hadn’t moved from the threshold of the door, stance poised to defend herself if she must...yet she was starting to worry that it wasn’t Vanilla she heard scurrying around in this place.
“Hello!” She tried again, tapping her foot against the decrepit flooring to create a vibration. Perhaps her friend simply couldn’t hear her...but he could certainly feel the feedback of her searching. “Vanilla?”
It seems her shock waves had reached their intended target.
For accompanied back to her was the stuttering of something low and gravely.
“L….leaaa…” Came the sodden reply.
Lily paused, recognizing that voice as something that was not as warm as it usually was.
“Leeeaaa…!” It became louder, followed very closely by something wet hitting the floor in little bursts. Pip pip pip.
“Vanilla? Are you alright?” Lily stepped forward lightly, following where she thought she heard the voice come from. That had to have been him, even if his voice sounded so...shot. “Are you hurt? It’s just me!”
Her ears led her to the side of a tattered, dusty couch, yet before she could step beyond it a high pitched whine interrupted her advance. “Leave!”
There were more sounds of struggle in the dark; something heavy was moving, or rather stumbling away from her. The scratching came back to assault her ears, along with a clicking that got louder and more fervent the longer she stood there.
“Leeave! Leave! Leave!” Each sound came out more broken than the next, along with an increasingly sporadic noise that sounded closer to hissing than anything else.
“Leave…?” Was he trying to warn her? There didn’t seem to be any danger around. “Vanilla, what’s wrong–”
“I….I s-said leave! Get out!”
Confusion and hurt mixed into something terrible within Lily’s gut, but she bit her cheek and stepped forward regardless of these ‘threats.’ Vanilla sounded more in pain than anything else, she wasn’t going to heed words possibly tinged with blood loss.
“Why would you think I’d ever leave? We’ve all been looking for you!” Every step forward she took was met with frantic scrambling. “You had us worried sick! Tell me what’s wrong, I can’t help you if you won’t let me come close!”
There was a dull thump, as if he’d hit something dead on. The scratching came back again as his voice lowered into something resembling a sob. “No, no, no, no, no! Leave!”
“I’m not leaving!” The girl shouted back at him, stamping her staff into the coarse wood. “Stop telling me to–”
The magic she’d released in her short burst of irritation let out small green sparkles into the air, momentarily illuminating the space she’d found herself in. One lingered closer to where her friend was hiding, bathing his face in a rather deep sickly glow.
Outlining the wet, dripping fang clear as day for her to see.
And Lily froze, for an entire world she’d built up came crashing down around her in an instant.
Hidden in the dark now, the sound of hissing was much more chilling to her ears.
“Get out.” The wet growl of her friend could drown her all on its own. “Please.”
That plea snapped her eyes back into focus. Lily could feel the crushing pressure of the atmosphere squeezing her lungs again, yet it wasn’t the only factor in getting her to take in a shuddering breath.
That...that was...that was undoubtedly him. That was Vanilla, with fangs as sharp as needles.
Her mind reeled. A hand coming up towards her mouth to hide the broken noise that dared to release.
That was a nightmare come true. A dark specter before her playing with the image of her friend in a cruel mockery of life.
That was a vampire.
That was Pure Vanilla, telling her to leave.
She couldn’t make sense of it, even less of the fact she wasn’t pulling out her weapon. Lily’s feet felt rooted to the ground, stuck in more than one place as she saw the image of his face plastered in her mind’s eye.
Vanilla had been turned. He’d been bitten–somehow having escaped from a worse fate of being eaten–yet bitten all the same. The transformation process had already taken place, he was far beyond saving–
She would have to put him out of his misery. He was a threat now, not just to her but the whole city. Left unattended he’d simply grow stronger and hungrier and–
He was speaking.
Lily lowered her hand, hearing more of the drool from his mouth splatter to the floor.
Vampires never usually spoke. Their minds–whatever being bitten and transformed did changed their personalities drastically. There was no more mind to speak of. They turned into vicious, killing creatures, knowing nothing but blood and carnage and ruin. The former person was lost, and all that remained was a husk of a living being.
And yet here he was, telling her to leave.
“Vanilla….” She whispered, softer than anything in this entire world. “Is that really you?”
Lily didn’t know what she was doing, but she moved forward with little hesitancy, holding out her hand, hoping what she saw was an apparition and he’d come out the darkness to grasp it–
Yet the world was knocked out from underneath her before she could even take her next breath.
Lily felt pain explode behind her head as it banged against the floor, filling her vision with static and scattering stars. Yet nothing short of death itself could make her miss the face that was so close to her own, with a mouth that was wide and revealed sharper teeth than she’d ever seen in her entire life. The warm splatter of saliva coated her sternum and only then could she hear the roaring of her own jam in her ears.
Instinct kicked into her system as she felt her wrists being squeezed hard enough to crack bone. It sent a painful jolt of electricity down her spine as she began to push against the force holding her down. Her struggle turned more wild as the pressure tightened and hot breath coated her neck and her chest exploded trying to take in a deeper breath. He was trying to eat her!
White Lily gasped and kicked up at her friend, who was terrifyingly strong in a way she didn’t think possible. His grip was all encompassing, and she felt her mind slipping with the nauseating affects of the fog closing in around her. She kicked at his side and tried to buck him off, feeling that her heart might sooner explode at the prospect of him being her undoing–
“S-Stop moving!”
She’d hesitated in front of a predator, everything she had ever learned about vampires lost to her in an instant.
“Lily–please, stop…!”
He was going to kill her, she could have run away, and yet she’d stupidly–
“Stop struggling!” The grip on her got deathly tight. “Stop moving, please!”
Lily felt her arms banged against the ground in one harsh movement that had her crying out.
“Stop!” Vanilla yelled at her, halting all her movement with more strength than all the witches combined.
She could not move a single inch, eyes wide in the face of her doom as he took in rather deep and haggard breaths. “Stop struggling or you are dead! Just–stop!”
His voice bordered on a plea, lowering his head and clenching his mouth shut tightly. Vanilla twisted his head around wildly, as if he was resisting some invisible force, breathing sounding more like a lions than a mere man’s.
She didn’t know why she was listening to that demand, let alone entertaining it. His hands were dug so deep into her wrists she felt her own becoming numb and light as a result. Yet those words rang around her head, painting a picture she would rather not be the witness of.
Stop moving, or she was dead.
Lily didn’t know how long she lied there, headache encompassing her skull as she stared up at someone she used to know, hesitating with such a broken look to his face as he practically crushed her beneath him. She felt him trembling, his body somehow so weak and yet so full of deadly force.
It felt like a millennia before he seemed to gather himself, looking at her with eyes as tight as slits that spoke a message she read loud and clear; do not make any sudden movement.
He released her hands first; the immediate loss of pressure making her breathe in rather deeply. Then he lifted himself from her, stumbling over to the side and shuddering for a moment before slinking away into the dark. A faint glow around his eyes remained burned into her head; seeing those shapes as they got farther and farther away from her as he backed off.
It was only when he stopped moving and the rustling of fabrics faded into the quiet that Lily dared to move her body. First her arms, pulling them close to her chest, and then a haphazard motion that got her upright again. Likewise, she herself had to take a moment as the room spun; the pain in her head multiplying with her thundering heartbeat as she sat up straight. Lily didn’t take her gaze away from where he once was for a single moment, even if he had completely disappeared. She didn’t hear movement, or growls, or hissing. It was completely silent in the house.
Lily reached out for her staff; having been knocked away from her in the struggle. It was the only thing that helped her get up to her feet, as her legs refused to cooperate with her on their own. She couldn’t spy her dagger, but then again, she couldn’t see much of anything!
Get out, get out, get out. Was all she could think, holding back another series of coughs as she turned towards the door, practically limping towards the clarity of cleaner air and freedom away from–
Her heart was far too loud in her ears. Lily found the doorknob and felt its cool surface sear her hand from the drastic heat from her body.
She couldn’t make herself turn it.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw nothing but the pitch black of the empty space meet her.
This was the second time tonight she’d hesitated.
But Vanilla was nowhere to be found, wherever he went, he left no trace of him. The only sign he’d ever been here was the strong scent in the air and...
Lily looked down at her arms; wrists entirely smirched with bruises.
He’d held himself back.
This was the physical proof.
Her lip trembled, clutching her free hand close to her chest and heaving–
She couldn’t stay in here any longer, it felt like her heart were fit to burst.
White Lily threw open the door and stumbled outside with her mind barely intact. The air was no cleaner out here than it was in there. She had to get out, get outside this bubble, towards the rest of the world and the night sky and the moon and to safety.
Hands trembling something fierce, she pushed her way out of the miasma and collapsed to the cold ground in a fit of coughing and wheezing. She took in greedy gulps of air as the tension was lifted from her body and her bones and her soul. Her mind felt clearer, and she looked around at the world as if it were something new and sacred. It wasn’t even a particularly bright night out, but the moon bathing everything in soft light was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
Moments passed like that, heaving and trembling and trying not to get caught up in the whirlwind her thoughts had become–if they could even be described as such. Her mind felt as if it were on fire, barely just recovering from a lack of oxygen and a fight or flight response that strained her entire body. Everything felt so foggy, she wasn’t even sure if what she saw had even happened. If it weren’t for the discoloration of her wrists and her pounding headache, she could almost mistake what had just transpired as a horrid dream.
Even if she hadn’t hallucinated it, it still felt so unreal. Death was staring her right in the face and she’d been stupid enough to allow it to get to that point. She was a member of the Organization for witch’s sake! She had been trained for how to deal with vampires! It certainly wasn’t her first time running into one either, and yet she’d broken just about every rule that was meant to keep her alive.
You cannot get sentimental on a vampire. It is no longer a member of cookiekind. It will attack anything given half the chance. You must dispatch of one quickly and with as much of a distance between you and it as possible. Injuries can be fatal. They are faster, stronger, and more dangerous than any creature abundant in nature. One hint of jam and they will go mad.
But he let me go. A small voice in her head whispered; something that wrapped itself in moonlight and soft memories.
It matters little, you cannot trust these creatures. They are senseless and mindless.
He didn’t seem quite so mindless to her.
Lily brought her hand up to her chest, the thick sticky residue of his saliva still clotted there. It was clear, viscous; about as normal as her own and anyone else’s.
He’d held himself back from biting her.
She’d seen his fangs, poised to strike her.
And yet they didn’t.
Vampires recently turned were said to be endlessly hungry, more vicious and deadly than those that have been around for a long time. They needed food and lots of it. They were the most common kind of vampire to find being reckless and swarming their walls for a chance to satiate that hunger that drives them so.
Vanilla had been hungry, starving even, and yet he didn’t eat her.
Did he still see her as a friend…?
Had his mind not been lost?
It would have been a wise decision to leave. The cold of the night was beginning to permeate through her coat and settle deeply into her bones. Her head hurt something fierce and she still felt as if she were swimming through the air that was desperately kept within her lungs. It was late, she was weak, sluggish, and chances were she couldn’t defend herself for much longer if something saw her as an easy meal.
She began to prop herself up, holding onto her staff like a lifeline as she trudged away from the dark swirling mass of negative energy. There was nothing for her in that house, she should leave well enough alone. If he...if he had locked himself away in there for as long as he’d been missing...then he could stay. He wasn’t hurting anyone. She could go home, crawl into her bed, and pretend she had never seen him.
She’d never seen him.
She’d never come here.
She’d never gone looking for him.
She hadn’t found a broken vision of her friend struggling against something that was now of his nature.
She hadn’t witnessed him spare her life.
She hadn’t heard those pleas for her to get out and leave.
She hadn’t seen the look on his face in the dying light of her magic.
She hadn’t. She hadn’t.
White Lily stopped herself, halfway back on the beaten path towards home.
She bit her lip, feeling a tremble that threatened to tear her body apart.
It was her duty to put an end to his life, to not even leave the chance of her friends getting hurt should he breach the prison of his own making.
That was no longer him, it wasn’t him, Vanilla was dead.
He was dead.
Her grip on her staff only brought enough color back to her hands to stain them with desperation.
Vampires didn’t speak, they didn’t beg for their soon to be prey to leave. They didn’t run away from their victims, nor did they tell them to stop moving lest they end up dead.
Vampires lost their minds, their memories, their very soul to a hunger so deeply embedded within them nothing of the original person remained.
And yet.
White Lily hadn’t realized she’d turned herself around until the cloying scent of flowers bombarded her senses once again.
This place had nearly become her tomb, and yet here she was, standing before the circling mass of despair while her heart was beating loud enough for everything within a mile radius to hear.
Her friend...had recognized her. He’d called her name. He had fangs and absurd strength and hissed at her but he hadn’t bitten her. That had to count for something right?
Right. But how on earth was she ever going to try and talk to him while he was starving? If her thought process held true, he’d been holed up in here for nearly a week without food or water. He was newly turned, and needed blood to function half as well as a normal cookie.
Her friends would sooner think she’d lost her mind if she willingly gave up her own jam to satisfy him.
No, she had to find something else...an animal perhaps.
Blood was blood, no? He hated eating meat but she saw little other choice.
If she could just go hunting...use all the skills Hollyberry had taught her, she should be able to catch something sufficient for him to eat. It was far past midnight now, the moon was lower in the sky than it had been previously...perhaps some forest critter was awake. She had to hope, as by morning someone would notice her own absence and get suspicious.
White Lily stood up straighter, her mind set, and stalked off into the wood surrounding the broken down house to search for a suitable meal. She gathered materials, wove together a trap with shaky hands, and went on the lookout for any sign of recent activity. Her senses, although dulled by pain, were still quite attuned to the forest around her. There were little things scurrying about in the undergrowth, but unless she planned to be here until winter catching small morsels, she’d need something big and full of life.
She tracked the trees for what felt like hours, leaving out what little berries and flowers she found to try and lure creatures in closer. Hopefully this was more tantalizing than her own scent, which would probably repel anything should it catch a whiff of her alone. She just needed something, anything bigger than herself to drag back to her friend–
A loud rustling occurred to her left, and she snapped her eyes over towards the commotion.
A rather hefty snout appeared within her vision before the little piece of bait she’d put out.
That would be more than enough. She hoped.
Truly Lily didn’t know how she got herself into these situations; yet they started happening more often the longer she lived this life. Hauling a woodland boar half her size back to the manse was a new one on her list of ‘things people would find her crazy for’.
She could practically hear her friends scolding her now, but their ghostly voices meant little in the face of the one she needed to hear above all the rest.
A choked sigh escaped her as she dropped the creature before the bubble, leaning on her staff to keep herself upright. Oh how badly her legs hurt….she wouldn’t be walking comfortably for a long time with how the frosts had settled so deep into her bones. Not to even mention the injuries she’d sustained tonight. Vanilla would–
She paused.
...her friend would probably scold her as well. Yet the harshness to his tone would be outweighed by the over-pouring of magic he’d administer to her to heal all the aching in no time at all. He’d try and keep up a serious face, but he wasn’t meant for such things. It would soften, and he’d take her hands in his own and ask her what had happened….
A barely audible sniffle was stolen by the wind. Lily bent down and resumed her hold on the boar’s leg, steeling her resolve and trudging back through the force of miasma. It felt just as awful as it had the first time, and stole her breath again all the same. Yet she took in quick little bursts of air and kept on, willing her body to hold out for just a little more, just a little further. She could sit down once she’d fed this to him, and then they could talk, they would have all night to talk. He could talk and talk and talk and she’d never take his voice for granted ever again.
Heaving out pain and inhaling stubbornness, White Lily yanked the animal all the rest of the way up the stairs; just barely catching herself before she slammed back into the doors. Oh Witches did everything hurt.
She only allowed herself a moment to think, staring up into the hazy atmosphere with half baked thoughts of relief. She was here, she’d made it back….he was inside, just past the doors….she just had to get inside.
In the back of her mind, a thought echoed a worrying sentiment...what if he simply ate her instead? What if this was all in vain? She could barely breathe right now, perhaps she’d simply imagined his kindness in the face of death…
But no, she knew what she saw, what she felt. He was still in there, he had to be.
Deep breaths became a timer. She inhaled once, twice, three times, before using most of the energy she had left to shoulder open the doors to the manse with one final shove.
“Vanilla!” She called, ignoring how her voice was breaking in order to get air in her lungs. “Vanilla I-...I brought you something to eat..!”
The silence that met her was deafening, but Lily continued to trudge inside while dragging her prize. Wherever he had went, he’d be lured back before long. The scent of fresh blood dripping from the boar would be too enticing to ignore. It was something nice, and warm, and rich–
A thundering of commotion had her staggering, and Lily just barely let go of the creature in time to miss the darkened shape that zipped past her. She fell to the floor in quite the heap, gasping not just from the pain but the overwhelming crushing weight to her chest. There was sound all around her, noises that reverberated in her ears and rattled her bones and raised the hairs on her head. It sounded so disgustingly wrong, but far be it from her to lift her pounding head.
Against her better judgment, she let her eyes slip closed, releasing the iron grip she had on her staff and focusing all her willpower on breathing.
The entire world felt so heavy, so distant….she thought she’d understood once what it meant to have the whole world on your shoulders...no, no hyperbole could ever compare to such a deep weight within her chest.
All she could do was wheeze, cradling the pain and listening to...whatever was transpiring before her. She hoped….really hoped that he had answered her call. That he could be reasoned with...talked to...so she could...perhaps….
Think...a little clearer.
With the weight….gone?
Lily cracked open her eyes, watching dust notes swirl around her head as she breathed in and out, slowly, yet not so painfully.
The weight was being lifted...little by little, and she saw light begin to banish the darkness around her. Her attention was stolen by a large window...atop a flight of grand stairs. The moon had already far passed yet the brilliance of the night and its stars illuminated the house almost fully. Some darkness stubbornly clung to the corners, but it was just like magic had spread life back into this old home.
A little coo of wonder escaped her...before she turned towards where she’d dropped the boar.
Or rather what was left of it.
Her eyes widened, catching a gasp before it escaped as she saw a hunched over figure tearing into the creature with a ferocity that rivaled that of any wolf she’d ever observed. With the now brightened space she saw claws raking into flesh, and little flecks of blood coating the glassy eye of the boar. It was a wild, ravenous display; completely in disassociation from the once white robes of the one who tore into it.
His hair was matted and so, so dirty. The once pristine curls now slick with grime, browned and rotted at the edges. It was longer too, much longer than he normally liked it kept.
He looked completely haggard, but more than that he was small. His robes practically dwarfed his entire body, lost within something that used to fit him quite nicely.
He was turned.
And she was watching him feed with the kind of intensity that made her painfully aware of her own morality. That would have been her, she would have been his first meal in witches knows how long.
Yet, there was a small part of her that was terribly fascinated in the whole ordeal, and how masterfully he seemed to keep all that blood from spilling out onto the floor.
Though it didn’t last very long as he stopped his frantic eating, becoming still and turning, ever so slowly, in her direction.
Those eyes struck another bolt of unease right into her very core, and she couldn’t help the involuntary shudder she gave.
But he flinched at her reaction, slumping backwards and hiding his face behind his dirty hair.
“Whh...why…” He croaked out, stopping his advance before wetting his mouth and trying again. “Why did you come back…?”
The bluntness of such a question snapped Lily out of her stupor. She grabbed at her staff again and sat upwards, paying close attention to how her body language made him stiffen. “Why? What do you mean, why? I couldn’t...just leave you here.”
The silence was so loud. Vanilla stared rather strangely, as if she was the one who had just eaten an entire animal on her own. “I almost killed you….no s-..sane cookie would have come back here.”
Well that stung, just a little. Lily huffed out a short breath and gave him quite the same look. “Well I’m not dead am I? You let me go...no normal vampire would just let a meal up and go like that.”
Vanilla recoiled as if he’d been struck. Lily realized what she’d just said and tried to backpedal on her statement before he shook his head.
“You shouldn’t be here...it’s not s-safe for you.” He mumbled. He attempted to cross his arms before realizing how bloody his hands were. It only resulted in a deep tremble before digging his hands deep into his dough. “I...I could hurt you again.”
Lily wanted to tell him that wasn't true, but the bruises on her wrists told a vastly darker story. She absently rubbed them and tried to peer at his face. It was so angular...and not nearly as soft as it normally looked. He’d truly been starving this whole time.
Unfathomably hungry, yet not allowing himself to step foot outside this house; there was enough dirt and dust covering him to paint a clear picture of how he’d holed himself up in here. If he couldn’t hurt her, than he couldn’t hurt anything else….resisting the temptations of food to keep himself away from anything he could kill.
A spark of hope.
“You...you haven’t hurt another living thing since...this happened, have you?”
Her question seemed to stab him, as he doubled over into himself and further hid his face. Pure Vanilla trembled once more for a great moment before breathing out a ragged breath of air.
She took that as a no, and stood up to her full height to try and get closer to him; which was a mistake all on its own it seemed. He snapped his face towards her (not directly at her, as she belatedly realized he didn’t have his staff) and hissed.
“I’m not going to touch you!” She put her free hand up for peace. “I just wanted to see–”
“Lily.” Vanilla’s eyes–mismatched still and yet with darkness staining the colors–were so intense they may have sooner burned a hole through her. His brow furrowed and it took a moment for him to regain a little bit of composure. “I...I appreciate you….f-feeding me, but you can’t stay. I don’t want to hurt you anymore...I can’t control myself.”
He seemed perfectly capable of it. He was scared, Lily understood that, but even he had to see how letting her go was just something vampires didn’t do. They didn’t think or make rational decisions, they just ate and ate and ate.
So she, and everyone else in the entire city, had been taught.
And yet here he was, an outlier, perfectly capable of thought and remembering her wholly, insisting he couldn’t possibly be so docile.
She didn’t believe it or his cold facade for one second.
Lily tutted with her staff, the little tap tap tapping of its horned surface against the wood making his pointed ears twitch. He didn’t sound manic anymore, his pupils weren’t constricted to such a small degree, and he was acting perfectly sociable right now, aside from his insistence of uncontrollable behavior. If anything, she were the more dangerous person in the room at present.
He was doing that thing, that small irritating habit of his to brush away any concern for his person and put up a wall between himself and any care directed his way. Except here, it made her a little more exasperated when she might have given in to his avoidance before.
White Lily crossed her arms, staring down at him like he were an unruly child. “Pure Vanilla. There are people out there worried for you. I am worried about you! I’m not going to let you sit in this decrepit house and waste away when you have your full mind intact!”
“You don’t know that–”
“I do!” She stepped forward and put her foot down. “You wouldn’t be insisting I leave so hard if you were fully a vampire! You wouldn’t have told me to stop moving, or let me go when you were so close to–”
“You don’t know that!” He shouted back at her, a purely irate look crossing his features. The volume level led to his own fit of coughing; a throat that hadn’t been worked in days being overused so quickly without water. “Y-You can’t be sure I won’t do anything.”
He wheezed in the dusty air, turning his face away from her. Lily hadn’t ever seen him...well, angry before. It took so much for anything to simply irk him, a full force burst of shouting like this...that wasn’t something she thought he could just do.
“I...I don’t want you staying here. You need to go back to your home and get out of this dangerous place….it’s t-too dark outside.” His voice lowered in pitch as his hair hid his expression, drooping and practically wilted. “If you...want to talk more...you c-can...come back...later.”
Lily’s objection about being able to handle herself died in her throat. Instead that flutter of hope returned to her, and she took another small step forward. “Truly? You’ll talk to me then? I could come back tomorrow first thing to check on you!”
It was obvious that he didn’t enjoy her increasing advance, but with a half eaten animal behind him there wasn’t much room for him to run. “I-If it gets you to leave...yes. You...can come back tomorrow.”
With the anger bled out of his tone, Vanilla looked so much more tired. He curled within himself to spare her from seeing him, but she could tell he was looking in her direction; it still sent a faint unsettling chill through her body. Almost like his stare alone was enough to strike fear into the hearts of cookies….fascinating.
Lily really didn’t want to make this conversation wait...but if it was the only way to show him that he wasn’t as dangerous as he thought, she’d agree to his terms. It already seemed like she’d pushed him enough for one night anyhow...and loathe as she was to admit it, she was a few moments away from collapsing herself. The cold was never kind to her this time of year..
“Alright, fine. I’ll come back tomorrow and we can discuss this….all of it.” She made sure her own stare was felt by him, signified by his grumbling whine. “And then…”
She wanted to say everything would be ok again.
But as it stood, she wasn’t so sure of that just yet.
Though she could hold out hope.
Vanilla’s posture unfolded only an inch, seemingly interested in what left she had to say. Unfortunately, Lily couldn’t make herself lie to him. The thought of giving him false hope alone would tear her heart to shreds, and it was already a painful thing she’d distanced from herself and would need to unpack once she got home.
“...and then I can hopefully get you something else to eat. Something more substantial...it...hurts being hungry, doesn’t it?”
There was silence, and he avoided her gaze once again. Vanilla didn’t lift his head as she got herself to take a few steps around him and the boar carcass. Even if she wanted so badly to stay, to take him with her, just to know he’d be alright, she forced herself towards the door and its cold handle, trying not to think of that sound he’d made when she first stepped into here.
“Goodnight, Pure Vanilla,” She called behind her; voice a faint, trembling thing.
He didn’t answer her as she collected herself and opened the door.
It had taken her a moment to fully process everything that had happened.
No thick, cloying fog had met her on the way outside the manse, it had all up and dissipated, with only lingering magic in the air to show that it was ever there at all.
It was thanks to the air clearing that she’d been able to find his staff.
The poor thing was half wilted, and cold all the way through its petals. It had only barely opened its eye up as Lily approached, and she carefully took and cradled it next to her own.
Lily didn’t think she could cry from seeing it, in all honesty, but once she was more than a few paces away from the house her emotions welled up to meet her too fast to stamp them back down.
Her body felt so weak, little sobs wracking it made it feel worse than it already was. Her chest hurt, her legs were freezing, and the headache pounding away near her eyes only stung more as she cried out most of her moisture. Just the thought of Vanilla having been turned into that made her bleary. How could this have happened? Why him? Why the sweetest soul upon Earthbread to now be a premonition for damnation?
And yet throughout her pain she was relieved, so so relieved that he was still in one piece. He’d made it out of a vampire attack alive, and moreover, sane. He’d kept his mind, something that was the first to go when a cookie became bitten. He could speak, he could think–he remembered her….
The cold poke of a vine upon her ruddy cheek shook her from her spiraling. Vanilla’s Beholder was staring at her quite so desperately; for it too wanted to get out of the night cold and back to the safety of home.
“Yes–” Lily breathed in and stood back up straighter. “Yes, yes...we’re going home. We’re going…”
She’d be back tomorrow, of this she swore.
Trudging back along the path towards Sel Halite felt like it took all the rest of her willpower. One foot in front of the other she crept, hugging the Beholder close to her face to keep her mind on the right track. There was no time to get lost in her thoughts, she wasn’t safe until she was back inside her own house: down a weapon and feeling as weak as she was. And even then, she would have to escape the notice of the watchmen.
A rather strict curfew was set in place for their fair city; meant to keep the cookies within safe and discourage any thoughts of being out late enough for untoward creatures to hide in the darkness and strike. They had a healthy track record of nothing too grisly getting inside the giant wall that surrounded the city, but you could never account for everything. One less cookie outside when the moon was at its highest was one less potential victim to the dangers lurking beyond their walls.
And under normal circumstances, Lily respected this law. She’d done her fair share of sneaking out and rendezvousing under the moonlight as a child, and mostly had her fill. Unless something utterly fascinating and enchanting caught her attention, she became a good little worker ant and stayed inside.
She supposed her best friend’s...transformation counted as such a fascination, huh?
The sparse dirt of the outside roads eventually turned to cobble, alerting Lily to stand up straighter and stick more to the cover of the trees. The watchmen on duty hadn’t seen her leaving, though now she felt sneaking around with double the amount of staves might be a little harder. It was nearing daylight she knew...but hopefully she could circumvent needing to go through the front entrance altogether.
White Lily stuck to the side of the wall, placing a hand on its grainy surface and taking in a deep breath. Her head was going to kill her, but she’d hopefully be asleep soon. She wasn’t so depleted of energy just yet.
The watchtowers were intermittent from where she currently stood, and she made sure no sounds approached her before raising her staff and letting it stab back into the fertile earth. It began to rumble around her feet before vines sprouted about, trailing up above her head and creating a little beanstalk, one perfectly plush with trailing vines and leaves.
It was times like these she was thankful she studied nature magic. Out of all the kinds of magic still becoming unearthed within society, it was the most accepted for its uses in agriculture. Many cookies praised how easy it was to turn the Earthbread and grow more plentiful crops; it was a miracle for advancing research and moving forward with bigger harvesting yields and production!
However, nothing came without its negatives, mainly in the ways those inexperienced with magic used too much and got themselves sick. There was an entire stretch within her lifetime where cookies became ill from the over-consumption of the recently researched ‘mana’ they all held in finite amounts. Mana could be restored, but only over time and with good health and rest. Too many cookies wanted the instant success of nature magic, and none of the drawbacks. And considering the uses of other types of elemental magic could still turn up noses…
Well, Lily considered herself lucky she had a good teacher.
Dispersing the vines was just about as effortless as summoning them, and she quickly stuck to the shadows of the nearby houses once she was inside the city proper.
She just had to get home, and then everything would be all in the clear…
As her steps tried to be as light as possible upon the cobblestones, Lily could hear the unfortunate side effects of pushing her body past its natural limits; a distant thrumming in her ears and the uncomfortable feeling of her heart beating much too fast.
She knew the city got quiet at night but this was...eerily so.
The feeling of hearing her body protest was as unsettling as it was unbearable. She’d figured all that had stopped as soon as she left the miasma but...perhaps she needed this rest more than she thought. As much as the concept of sleeping peacefully was a far cry from what she considered herself capable of.
Lily sucked in a deep breath and kept herself to the shadows, not daring to peek too far out into the streets. Even with the late hour and curfew she had to be extra careful of the patrolling guardsmen; they wouldn’t hesitate to alert her superior if she was acting suspicious outside of sanctioned time for the city. Curfew was very strict, yet it could change for a select few reasons, none of which had come into play since the last time a major attack happened on their city...the last time a group of vampires had swarmed them late into the night.
Before she could even get sucked dangerously into that train of thought, she snapped her eyes upwards towards the rooftops, spying for her own that would be coming up on the horizon soon enough. Her home was one of the farther ones from the entrance to the city, but she considered the trek minimal...and thankfully so; her head didn’t feel as if it’d stop pounding even if she had a tonic to take for it. And even worse, the perpetual chill in the air was making the ache in her legs feel so much worse. She had to conserve even a little bit of energy for the coming morning; she’d swore to return to Vanilla and damn the weakness of her dough for being the thing to potentially stop her.
By the time the familiarity of her home came into view against the murky light of the streetlamps, Lily’s hands were sufficiently cold and numbing. She could barely keep a firm hold on either staff, let alone reach around for her key. Thankfully it hadn’t been lost in...the skirmish.
The hard clink of the lock only provided a minimal amount of comfort.
Lily stepped into her home with her mind buzzing something fierce; ready to fully collapse into the softness of her bed and bury her horror and sorrows….only to stop quite suddenly as she heard shifting movement coming deeper from within the house. The scent of pine assaulted her and for a good moment she had to swallow a sound of surprise. Looking around in quite the panic, she stepped forward around the corner of her entryway and slid her friend’s Beholder under the piano that stood long dormant.
Whispering a quiet sorry to the flower, Lily stood up pin straight as the footsteps grew even louder–
And heralded the arrival of Hollyberry; by far the most intimidating of her friends, with the rush of cinnamon and evergreen that she had come to know too well.
The expression upon the huntress’ face was only that of relief for one, blissful second, before morphing very quickly into something more resembling scorn.
“White Lily Cookie,” Hollyberry practically hissed out, “Where have you been?!”
The taller lady felt all of her excuses dry up within her throat and found she hadn’t the strength at present to conjure up any more.
“H-Hollyberry…! What are you–?”
“What am I?” She placed her hands on her hips rather sternly and stared at the girl, looking affronted as if she were the one caught out. “What are you doing out so late! You know when curfew is! I came over to check on you...we hadn’t seen you much today. I wanted to drop by to see if you were alright before I turned in–and I’m glad I did!”
Lily truly hoped she had pooled her expression into something that didn’t look shameful. She flexed her aching hands around in her sleeves and brought them up to her chest; still faintly wet. “Holly I swear, I wasn’t out doing anything unlawful–”
“Are those bruises….?”
Lily blanched and looked down at her wrists; apparently she hadn’t considered how stark the deep color was against her dough.
“I-...Holly it’s….I mean they are but–”
“Sit,” Her friend instructed, pointing over towards her couch. “Now.”
And, feeling much like she was too young again, Lily averted her eyes and walked past her friend with something like misery bubbling up within her chest. How was she supposed to explain herself? What could she possibly say to dissuade her friend from thinking she’d been nearly kidnapped, or worse?
In the low candlelight within her den space, Lily nursed her wrists while her friend rummaged around in her kitchen; only upping her sense of unease. When Holly returned to her side she sat a small collection of ice down on the low table in front of them, before taking Lily’s pain into her own hands.
Under a direct light source; the aftermath looked so much worse. The bruises were deep and an ugly shade of midnight, circling the entirety of her wrists and causing her dough to raise uncomfortably. Even worse, were the marks of something sharp that left indents where the points had dug so deep...and yet not punctured. Had Vanilla squeezed any harder he might have drawn jam–
Lily sucked in a sharp breath and closed her eyes, fighting off the vision of him tearing into that boar. He had resisted, he had resisted, he had resisted. She wouldn’t have...he couldn’t–
“Lily,”
She wrenched her eyes open and stared up at Holly’s face; marked with little scars and lines under her eyes and undeniable fury held within her carefully arranged expression.
“Who did this to you?”
“Holly….I...it wasn’t–”
With as gentle a grip as possible Hollyberry circled her hands around Lily’s wrists and shook her. “White Lily, who did this to you.”
The flower found her voice was failing her as her mind fought to stay aware.
“Did someone try and attack you? Was this some miscreant who tried to put their hands on you?”
Oh witches no– Lily had to shake her head wildly.
“Was there a thief? Did someone try and rob you?”
No, no, no.
Hollyberry’s relief was only barely palpable, but it didn’t last long.
“Did you go outside the walls? Did this...thing get to you out there?”
Her heart squeezed, but she nodded her head only a little. She couldn’t lie fully, if Holly truly found out…
“Oh Lily…” Her friend swore under her breath. “Something nearly got you.”
It wasn’t a question, but she wasn’t sure how she could respond anyway.
Hollyberry went down a list, seeing as Lily wasn’t going to be verbally answering. The lands outside their city were as magical and mystical as they were dangerous. Sirens wailed in the lonely waters of the deep, ogres and demons made their homes within the mountains, sly kitsunes and werewolves prowled the deeper wood and the surrounding hills, and within the vicinity of their own home…
Lily went still as the words she didn’t want to hear slipped from between her friend’s mouth.
“No,” She whispered, feeling her heart skip a beat within her aching chest. “No, I...I wasn’t attacked by any vampires.”
Holly’s face was a sorrowful thing.
“No bites, no...no claw marks, just….it wasn’t one of them.” And she moved her neck around just to plead her case. The only visible evidence on her was her wrists. All the other pain lie deeper within her body, and her soul.
Hollyberry sighed, that grip around her squeezing just a little. “Lily, something had to have done this to you. I don’t wish to make you spit it out, but you know you can trust me, right?”
That was the saddest part of all.
“I know,” A pathetic little giggle escaped her, a prelude to crying if she’d ever felt it. “I know, Holly. I would tell you anything, everything, if someone truly intended to hurt me.”
The cause of these bruises had not meant to. It was all in an effort to prevent a larger tragedy. Pure Vanilla would never use his hands to harm another. He was too sweet, too kind…
Lily hung her head low and tried to pull her arms closer back to her chest. “I am thankful for your worries, but I..I can heal these myself. It’s not...such a detriment that I cannot function. I can move, I can think, I can work.” She hissed out the last word, feeling disdain at her own failure as a friend. “I...just need to rest. I’ll be ok.”
“But Lily,” Her friend didn’t let go, not yet. “I cannot let you go on like that in good conscience. You left after curfew and came back nearly six hours later, not only with bruises but a story you will not give me. What am I supposed to think?”
“The better of me….” White Lily supplied, giving another tug on her wrists. “I...I could give you a story just...not right now. I’m tired and my head is just...too full.”
Silence stretched, and the jumble of feelings within Lily’s chest just grew tighter and more constricted. She didn’t want to lie to her friends, but she knows them. She knows Holly. If she heard a vampire–much less their friend–had nearly ripped into her a hell would be raised before sunrise. She’d march down to that old dilapidated house herself and put Vanilla out of his misery. Like she was supposed to do. Like she’d trained to do, like she’d sworn to do.
Yet her heart hurt so much just thinking of raising a weapon against the one who set her free.
That warm voice clouded with agony.
She couldn’t, she simply couldn’t.
And she couldn’t let their friends do it either.
Lily hadn’t realized she had been released from her friend’s grip before the sharp sting of ice brought her back to reality. She looked up and saw Holly’s hollow expression staring back at her, trying to form something less worrisome and failing.
“Alright Lily,” She murmured, and the lack of warmth within her voice was extremely concerning. “I will let you rest, and give you time to think about this. You shouldn’t be working….I–” She raised her hand through her braid, and the soft pink hair came loose with ease. “I will talk to our superiors...see if they can give you a few days off in peace.”
That was...more than she was expecting. Lily tried her best to make her smile as sincere as possible. “Thank you, Holly…”
“But.” A hand was raised to cut off her gratitude. “Do not think I am letting you off the hook. We will finish the conversation later, and I will know the entire story. You got that?”
This was more in line with the Holly she knew, and Lily couldn’t even be annoyed...she expected this as much. Wasn’t it so nice to have a friend who cared so much about you…?
“I understand. I promise I’ll tell you soon Holly,” Lily brought a hand up to her temple, taking a second to breathe. “I just need time…”
“Aye, I can give you that, but nothing more than a few days.” Her nod was concise and final. “And considering you are resting, I do not want to see you out of your home unless you are going to the clinic, ya hear?”
These terms were acceptable, Lily could live with a few days time to get her story straight...though resting was going to be far from the only thing she’d accomplish. “Yes Holly.”
A few more conclusive questions were asked as the nighttime grew farther and farther away from them. It was clear both women were tired, yet Holly was determined to make sure Lily was alright and in a functioning state of mind before she departed. Lily did her best to keep up, but her state of mind was only as fine as the mask she presented with. She was battered, and bruised, and her heart lay in little pieces aside her ribs. She needed time to mend herself, and sleep off the worst of the pain.
So when the candles were dimmed and she cleaned herself up into a less...broken thing, she clambered into bed and lay atop the covers with a tight little sigh.
She couldn’t think, not right now. Not about him.
Lily curled up into a small shape and held her hands as close to her chest as possible. She cradled the pieces of her heart, the pain, the loneliness, the fear, all of it. She wrapped her hands tight around it all and refused to let it go.
She had caused this.
This would be her undoing.