Chapter 24: Rightfully Returned

A thief returns what's stolen.
A clash of friends misunderstood.
Choices made, for better or worse.
Christina takes hold of what's lost.

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Day 70
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I had just finished dinner when Lena told me that she'd like it if I went to 'play in my room' for the rest of the night. I didn't complain. To be completely honest, I wasn't even sure if I was being punished or not. I suppose technically she was sending me to my room, but she didn't make it feel like I had done anything wrong. So I had to assume my guardians had some other reason for wanting me to retire upstairs for the night. Who knows, maybe one of them would come collect me at some point, there were still quite a few hours left in the day.

I went and sat on my window, looking out toward the garden below.

I felt like I should have been happier. It had only been ten days since my moment in the garden. Since then, my guardians had kept me so close that I had scarcely a moment alone. Even when I did find moments away to escape, I sadly found that Damien nowhere to be seen. He had told me he was 'closer than you think'. I hoped that was true. Immediately after he revealed that he knew exactly who I was, it had felt so wonderful. For a moment I put aside all the thoughts of taking on the Southgard name, felt a renewed love and connection with my family, and thought, maybe, I wasn't quite so alone.

My focus shifting, I wandered away from the window and started to look at the music box sitting on my dresser.

That connection sadly didn't last. As much as his words rang with pride and purpose at the time he had told me of my ancient people, I realized that now, without him, I actually knew so, so little. More than that, I wondered, if my mother and father had worked so hard to regain the trust of their people, why hadn't they ever told me? Not once had Father let me know he was making trips to Napaea Forest, not once had Mother told me that our family were the true leaders of an entire region within the kingdom. Instead, all I had were vague stories of 'ancient times', about the 'forest of our ancestors' and our 'pack'. I had no idea they were anything more than family legend. And now, as the number of days without seeing Damien grew, Lena had seemingly taken it upon herself to spend more and more time with me. At times it was overbearing, but she was growing kinder and more considerate each day. Learning my favourite books, places I liked to read, sets of clothes that I didn't hate the most. Since the political dinner, Lena had started to call me her little bird . . . I think I liked it.

As I paced, I found myself standing in front of my mirror, and began to focus on the small empty space on my chest, where my mother's necklace would have once hung.

I began thinking about my parents, Mother and Father. Damien made it out to seem like they truly cared about their people, so much so that they earned that love back in return. Yet . . . they abandoned me. They had gone who knows where, without leaving anything to protect me, not even giving me the honest truth about an entire heritage that could aid me. Lena and Rowan were here, they had shown that they wanted to protect me, even if it was in ways I didn't understand . . . 

As I wandered, I stopped to pick up my stuffed bear, Arthur, who must have fallen on the floor during one of my nightmares, and not been picked up by whoever had come in to make my bed.

Yet despite that, for all those conflicted feelings . . . Damien's grove still felt like the most beautiful place in the world, even without him. The Southgards had given me back so much that I had lost, but there was a cost. Lena and Rowan had promised to protect me, but Cynthia was also right there, yanking me back if I stepped even a single toe out of line. I was so scared of disappointing them, of feeling that remorse and that guilt, that I was starting to let so much of who I thought I was fall away. I tried so hard to be what they wanted me to be, but I had no idea where the line was, and I stumbled so often without even realizing it. Their love felt so wonderful, but their ire was decidedly worse. Honestly, I couldn't help but feel like the only time I really felt at peace was when I was alone away from them all. Those tranquil moments in the grove, when everything else grew silent, seemed to be the only time I couldn't fuck up. 

Eventually I stopped my aimless walking, letting myself fall backwards onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling, eyes drifting as if there was something there.

And even my own family aside, there was Damien . . . I thought back to the wilderness in his eyes, the love he shared for both our people and our lands. I remembered lying down with him in that soft bed of clovers and moss. All I wanted was to be near him. He didn't look at me the way all the others did, I thought of how beautiful that feeling was. I remembered each and every time his skin touched mine. 

"Boo."

Pulling me back down to earth from my train of endless thought, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

I gasped like the room was running out of air, as my entire body wrenched up and back, flinching toward the direction of the sound, which had come from my now-open window. It was none other than Hazel who sat calmly, dangling her legs from the window's ledge, enjoying every moment of my reaction. 

". . . What the fuck, Hazel!" I gasped in a rare moment of mature profanity. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" 

I could see by the smile on my friend's face that she wasn't entirely against the idea. "Nice to see you too. You're a big girl, you'll be fine." She joked. It took a fair bit of effort not to flinch at the comment.

It took me a few seconds, but I eventually started to comprehend the current situation. I looked to Hazel, then out the window, then back to Hazel. ". . . How did you even get up here?" I asked, both bewildered and amazed. 

My friend looked at me with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Oh, come on. You've seen me climb things before, babes. You really think scaling a house with this many footholds isn't the easiest thing in the world?" It was almost like she was disappointed I even questioned her abilities. But even if the expression was in jest, I couldn't help but feel my heart skip a beat in sudden, unexplained panic.

Without missing a beat, Hazel continued, now showing a wide grin that just kept growing. "You know what's also incredibly easy to scale? . . . Old event spaces turned government offices." She offered rhetorically before pulling something out from inside her jacket that made my heart stop.

I only realized the bulge from her jacket as she pulled out the item that had caused it. But as the item was revealed, for me, time slowed down. Grey fur, slightly matted from years of love yet still vibrant and soft from tender maintenance and care, white plush paws and a snow-tipped tail. Ears that still somehow perked up to a distinguished point, small glass marble eyes, one chipped from an accident over a decade ago, and a black fuzzy nose at the end of his extended snout. Perfectly huggable, he was roughly the size of my chest, more soft than firm under the weight of my embrace. 

Argus had made his way home.

I covered my mouth in awe. My legs frozen as I knelt on my bed, all I could do was look as Hazel held my childhood protector in her hands in front of me. Tears began to well in my eyes, and I was overcome with emotion that was impossible to name. I couldn't be sure this wasn't a dream, terrified that if I so much as moved everything around me would somehow vanish. If this was a dream, I needed it to be true.

But as time continued to pass in slow motion, I realized that Argus wasn't even the only thing Hazel had brought for me. Her other hand opened, and whereas before the world stood still, now it flipped completely upside down. 

Black onyx stone, carved beautifully in the form of two ravens at each other's backs, with a tiny singular ruby embedded in the space between both their wings, the dark rock outlined with brass, and hanging from a small silver chain. The same symbol that represented the heritage I had been agonizing over minutes ago. In Hazel's palm was something beyond priceless, something that was by birthright, mine.

The Revallia Pendant. Once my mother's. Lost to time.

But not lost. It was right here. 

Jumping off my windowsill, Hazel placed both items on my bed in front of me. Without even thinking, I immediately reached forward and took Argus in my hands. I pulled him as close as he could possibly be, squeezing him so hard, almost like I was worried that if I let go he might  disappear. I couldn't even properly see him, my vision blurred from the tears of joy in my eyes. Somehow choking on my own throat, I only barely managed to croak his name. I felt his soft fur against my skin. His coat, cold from the outdoor wind, slowly began to reclaim its warmth, as I shared my own.

But even with the raw emotional joy I felt from the return of my toy, I looked over to my mother's pendant in front of me. Almost as if in a trance I reached out and held the heirloom in my hand, and I quickly found that the world around me felt darker now, and full of lies. How did she have it? That was impossible. All my life that pendant had only been in two different places, around my mother's neck, or stored safely in her music box. The same music box that had been sitting on my dresser for over two months. The first day the box arrived, I checked; the pendant had been nowhere to be found. At the time I assumed that my mother must have taken it with her. Either that, or it was lost some other way. Now, as I looked back at Hazel, another option dawned on me.

I remembered the last time I saw Hazel. I had watched her from across the market square nearly a month ago. She was conspiring with criminals, proving to clearly be some kind of criminal herself. It was the same morning I had woken from the nightmare that started my vicious cycle of bedwetting. The horrifying image of Hazel dragging me down in the mud, betraying me after making me think she was there to help.

In my mind I realized exactly what had happened, and why the pendant had been missing when Lena fetched the music box. Hazel had somehow stolen it.

"You . . . you stole it." I spoke, almost as if in a trance.

Hazel seemed too locked in her own moment to notice the subtle shift in my mental state. "Yep. After you told me about Argus last time, I figured I would pay a bit of a visit to the treasurer's office. Took me a little while to plan it all out, but honestly didn't even turn out to be that hard." She boasted. I could tell she was proud of her actions. She looked at me and I could tell she saw what she wanted to see. "When I found Argus, that necklace was sitting on top of him. 'Looked important, so I thought I'd bring it too."

Something in me snapped. "No." I said, something in my voice rang sharp, like broken steel. "That wasn't with Argus when I last saw him. If you have it, you must have stolen it months ago."

Hazel finally caught on, realizing something was wrong. "Sorry?" She asked, confused. Her tone apprehensive.

"All this time I thought it was missing, but it was really you." I almost felt possessed. My voice was hollow, but unwavering. I stared into Hazel's eyes like she was a damned soul. She lied. She lied.

"The hell 'you just say to me?" Shot Hazel, one small warning away from clear outrage. "Step off."

And something snapped back. 

Everything about me melted away in a moment. The steel, the certainty, all of it vanished as suddenly I realized how much I fucked up. Guilt washed over me like a tidal wave, and shame returned to fill me whole.

"Where the hell do you get off? I went and risked my neck for you, and what? You think I somehow stole something months before I even met you? Why in hell would I do that? Who the hell do you think you are?" She spat at me in contempt.

Tears, now fresh from regret, started to pour out of me. I gripped Argus close, nearly hiding behind him, and averted my eyes from my friend's justified glare. I couldn't believe I had accused her, regardless of whether or not what I said was true. I could tell she was disappointed in me. I deserved whatever happened next.

But Hazel suddenly paused. She saw in an instant all the fight leave my body, and she blinked back in utter confusion. She went quiet and she started to study me. When she next opened her mouth, all of her own fire was gone too. 

"Chris . . . I broke in there yesterday. When I found your wolf, the necklace was sitting on top of him, both of them covered in dust. I don't know what on earth you're talking about, but nobody's touched that thing for weeks before today." She leaned over and tilted her head in worry. "Are you alright?"

As Hazel's words hit my ears, all at once the entire world pulled back and came into focus. It was like some haze had been lifted and I was only now recovering all my senses. My clinging grip on Argus loosened as suddenly I realized where I was, and what exactly I had been doing. What was wrong with me? 

"Oh my god, Hazel, I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me . . ." I rushed out, dumbfounded at how I could accuse all that of someone who was nearly my only friend.

Hazel looked over me, my sudden recovery seemingly doing nothing to ease her concern. There was a long silence between us as my guilt, both moderate in comparison to a few moments ago, and now truly justified, settled within me.

"Babes," Hazel started. "I'm worried about what these people are doing to you."

I looked at her with confusion. "What do you mean?" I asked, my mind strangely blank as I was unsure what my guardians had to do with what just happened.

Hazel had to hold back a laugh as she looked at me in disbelief. "You're terrified of them."

Something in me stirred and struggled against her words. Terrified of them? No . . . Cynthia was scary sometimes, but Lena and Rowan . . . they were nice. Lena was kind to me, I remembered all the moments where I felt like I could only be safe with her. I wasn't terrified. No, I wasn't.

"They're good to me . . ." I tried to promise my friend, though I wasn't even sure how I could convince her. 

Hazel looked away and took a deep breath in. "Babe, look at what just happened to you a second ago. And think about it, what do you think is gonna happen when they find Argus? Or when they see that necklace and know that it's not something they gave to you?"

"Pendant!" I yelled, before realizing that I needed to watch my tone. If for no other reason than I didn't want to be heard, and I no idea how thin these walls might actually be. Truthfully, I had no idea why the semantics regarding my family heirloom triggered me like this, after all, I had interchanged the two words myself countless times before. But apparently in this moment, it was suddenly important. "It's my family's pendant. It was- . . . it is an heirloom. It belonged to my mother."

Hazel paused for a moment to study me. After a few seconds she softened her tone, and raised her palms up in apology. "Pendant . . . Well, do you really think they'll let you keep either of them?" 

I looked down to my arms that held Argus in between. His soft marble eyes looking back at me with belonging. I just got him back, I couldn't even think about losing him again. Honestly it wasn't until this moment that I realized how much he meant to me. They couldn't take him away, put him back in that dark cold storage room. He hadn't done anything wrong, he didn't deserve that. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to him . . .

Hazel's voice interrupted me as I spiraled. "Gods, look at you. It's been five minutes and even I can see how much he means to you. Do you really want to hide something that you love this much? Are you okay with that?"

Something in me sank. Was I okay with it? Honestly, no. Hiding Argus couldn't have been further from what I wanted. But since when did what I want ever really matter? Hazel was worried about my guardians, but I thought about everything that they'd done for me. Taken me on as their ward to keep me out of jail. Teaching me how to be respectful to others and treat them well. Even forcing me to wear diapers was only something they did to protect me from the fact I couldn't stop wetting the bed. They didn't care about what I wanted, they were better than that. They cared about what was best for me, about teaching me the right thing to do. So I stayed quiet.

Though, in that moment of pure, peaceful silence, something stirred. 'The right thing to do . . . Why did they get to decide what that was?'

Hazel continued to study me as my pause drew on. Eventually she looked away and gave me an attempt at a smile. "Okay, we're getting up now." She said, her tone changed, gentle enough in its spontaneity, and a distinct departure from where we just were. Taking hold of my hands she pulled me from my bed, Argus barely staying within my arm's grip, and the pendant dropping onto the bed.

She pulled me over towards the still-open window, and she carefully crawled over the ledge herself to take a seat on the windowsill, her legs dangling out the opening from the second floor. She nodded over to the space next to her as she guided my hand forward. Unsure about the entire thing, I was worried. Both for myself, and that I might somehow drop Argus who was tucked tight beneath my arm. But as she gently reached out again to hold my hand, I found myself being pulled across the boundary. While initially scared of losing balance as my feet found themselves navigating blindly on the other side of my bedroom window, with my palm in her grasp, I found that I wasn't afraid. I felt steady.

With Hazel's help, I down next to her. Now fully settled, I let out a sigh of relief. Together, we looked out toward the garden in the late-afternoon sun.

"Well if you don't want to talk about the bad," My friend said, gently nudging me with her shoulder, "then tell me about the good." 

To be honest I was surprised that she thought there was any. From all the times we had talked about my life here, Hazel only ever seemed to focus on what she thought was wrong. What was 'the good', anyway? The softer moments between me and Lena? For some reason those didn't feel like the type of thing I wanted to share. Honestly, the more I thought about it, there was really only one answer.

"There's this gardener that works on the grounds . . . his name is Damien." I started, somehow already feeling lifted by just the thought of him. "He's been really kind to me. And he's built me this . . . wonderful garden." I pointed towards the grove, the tips of the hedges visible, but the rest of what was inside fully blocked from view, just like Damien promised it would be. "I love spending time there, spending time with him." I smiled as I thought back to all our simple stolen moments. "He's taught me so much about plants, shared so many legends and stories. He taught me more about my family than I thought I could even know. Where we come from, and what the Revallia family really means . . . who we as a people really are, deep in our roots." I let myself breathe. For a moment, I didn't even care about all the shame built up around my heritage. Right now, all I felt was . . . him.

Smiling, I looked over to my friend. I wanted to look at her, and see those same encouraging eyes. But as we met each other's eyes, I didn't see what I expected to see. Hazel looked at me, her eyes deeply conflicted. At first I had no idea what I said that provoked her into looking at me like she was, but then as she broke her gaze and looked away, I realized that the conflict I saw in her, it wasn't with me, it was with herself. She stared out at the horizon and I realized that this conflict was one that had left her bitter and bruised. Seeing Hazel like this, I couldn't help myself. I concentrated slowly, and built up the courage needed to ask. 

"Hazel, can you tell me about your heritage?

Somehow, even motionless, I swore I saw part of her flinch. She looked at me, her mouth agape like she wanted to say something, but was undecided as to what. It was one of the first times I had ever known Hazel to be at a loss for words. She didn't want to answer, I was sure of it. But at the same time there was something within her that equally didn't want to refuse. She studied me once more, this time I had the feeling what she was really looking for was for something within herself. Hazel looked down, shaking her head with a smile before taking a deep breath in, getting ready to continue.

"My family is . . . complicated." She said, forcing out the final word in a way that it nearly became a laugh. "Not that many generations removed from me, my family was part of one of the great houses." 

My eyes widened in surprise. I looked at my friend. The friend who lived on the street, who had invited me into her hidden hovel on the first day we met, who I had never seen wear a different jacket than the one she wore now. Her family was once nobility? And as a great house, the same rank of nobility as me? 

"What? Which house?" I blurted out, unable to contain my surprise. 

Hazel on the other hand was already shaking her head in anticipation. "It doesn't matter." She dismissed. From the tone I could tell she wasn't going to budge, so I decided that was a fight for another day, but my mind wandered towards possibilities nonetheless. There were only six great houses, after all, and she certainly wasn't related to me.

Hazel seemed to choose a spot on the horizon to keep her eyes focused on. I could tell that whatever history she was going to tell me was difficult for her, but for some reason she persisted all the same. "Obviously, we slowly fell out of the great house's linage. My grandfather belonged to the minor house of our line, but my father . . . he didn't marry to stay within the aristocracy, he married for love." The words she spoke should have implied something positive, but in her voice there wasn't any admiration for her father. She recited the story for what it was, facts of times gone by. Nothing more, nothing less. It was sad, almost.

"He married my mother, and dropped our family out of nobility entirely. He didn't much care for that life anyway. I think, at least." She stated.

It all made sense. I had heard of similar things before. Only one branch of a family kept the title surname of a great house. All the others, should they marry, would receive the lower last name associated with their family's minor house. I had come to learn from spending time with Silencians, that in Silencia family names were passed through their men, and a family's natural heir was by default the eldest son. Which completely backwards. Here in Crevicil, surnames were carried by the women, and when it came to heirs we followed the law of 'Junior Right', where so long as no younger daughter was born by the time the current youngest reached the age of twenty-five, they inherited all lands and titles from their family. Naturally, this meant that I was our family's primary heir. And with our family being a Great House, if I had married I would have kept our family's last name with me and my partner, 'Revallia'. My sister on the other hand, if she had ever married, would either have a choice to take on her spouse's last name, though that was only if she married a woman, or have the surname 'Revil' be given to her spouse, as associated with our linage's minor nobility 'House Revil'. She herself would be free to continue to be known as a full 'Revallia' for the rest of her life, but her spouse, and any children, would be known under the surname 'Revil' forever and always.

Forever, that is, unless, a son of a minor house decided to marry down further, and marry someone not of any kind nobility. From there, they would fall completely out of the aristocracy. Occasionally that son would still be allowed some status with the rest of their family, but most often they were stripped of their name and status entirely, and their spouse and children were obviously never be considered nobility in the first place.

"My father didn't care for the power of nobility. It's a shame on my mother that the same couldn't be said for her." Continued Hazel. It was then that I realized the true origin of her conflict. I could feel the disdain piercing from her eyes.

"My mother never married for love. She married because she somehow thought she could convince the other lords to legitimize their marriage and make her nobility." Hazel spoke through nearly gritted teeth. It was shocking to see her like this, so calm and collected, now barely holding back her anger. 

"That's not how any of that works . . ." I said, instinctively. "That's insane."

Hazel took the opportunity to find levity in her history and force out a laugh. "Yeah, it is." She agreed, though I had a feeling it wasn't for exactly the same reasons. "That didn't stop her from trying. She did everything she could possibly think of to try to get the nobles to legitimize us." Hazel took a deep breath out. "Of course, it only made things worse."

I saw her eyes glaze over, and I could tell her story was coming to a premature end. Her eyes shifted the tiniest bit, but were still locked miles away. "I'm glad that this Damien guy can love his heritage the way you say he does, and share that with you. But my heritage . . . only brought pain and suffering to everyone I ever loved."

Finally my friend broke her thousand-yard stare and shook herself off, casting away any emotions that remained. "I learned a while ago that I can't rely on the past to figure out who I'm meant to be. I have to find out who I am, for myself. That was the only way I could ever escape being what the people who were supposed to take care of me wanted me to be." My friend looked over at me, finally cracking a smile and reminding me of the cool, collected person I knew her to be. "And without that, I wouldn't be where I am now. Delivering a stuffed animal, stolen from one of the most guarded places in the capital . . . all so my friend who really needs it might feel just a little less alone." I looked into Hazel's eyes, and I saw a sparkle, almost like a star.

It wasn't until that moment that I fully realized the weight of what Hazel had done for me. She put herself at so much risk, all for something that would be so trivial to anyone else. If she had been caught she risked being sent to jail, or who knows, maybe worse. I couldn't remember anyone else having risked themselves like that for me. I looked at her now, and the image of her face, twisted and distorted like it was in my dream, faded away. I saw her, her scars, her discoloration, her tangled hair. But also her smile, her confidence, her kindness, her care.

As her words sank in, I leaned close. I slowly wrapped my arms around my friend and pulled her into a hug. At first she responded the same way she had the last time I had seen her. She let out a nervous laugh and tried to gently pry me off. But this time, I wasn't having it. I kept my arms wrapped around her and buried my head in her shoulder, letting her know in silence that she was just gonna have to accept this. 

After a moment of struggle, Hazel finally gave in. With a playful sigh, she wormed one arm free and reached it around the back of my head, pulling me just a little closer. The last time I had spent time with her, I had asked myself, what exactly all of this was. While I was happy then, I didn't exactly have a full answer. But now, nesting my head in the crook of her shoulder, watching the first hints of the sun going down, with that golden hour that was surely shining beautifully across her face . . . I knew. This was all it needed to be. This was enough. 

"Thank you, Hazel." I whispered clearly.

I felt the muscles in her body loosen just a tiny bit. "Don't mention it, kid." 

We sat like that, peaceful and silent for some time. But eventually Hazel had to go. Whether she grew bored, had some other appointment to keep, or just decided it was her time, my friend gave me one last squeeze before standing up on the ledge next to me.

I looked up to her. Her hair flowing in the wind across her face. "Okay, I'm off." She declared, before nodding towards my stuffed animal. "You had better take good care of Argus, okay? I'm sure he'll take good care of you."

I smiled brightly at her, clutching Argus tight towards me, giving Hazel a playful nod. She looked me over one more time. "Catcha later, rich girl." She said, before leaping down to hang off the ledge, then dropping once more onto the ground.

I watched my friend make her way off the property, her head on a swivel as she snaked towards the main road. 

Now that she was gone, I thought about how we had spent our time. It was so preciously short in the grand scheme of things, and it had been months since I saw her last. It would be who knows how long before I would see her again? Nowhere near as long, I hoped. Looking back, I was sad that I started our time together accusing her the way I did. What had come over me?

I started to realize I should probably get myself inside. If someone saw me dangling from the window, Lena would probably have a heart attack. 

Lena . . . Now that I thought about it, she was the person who told me that my mother's pendant wasn't in the music box when she fetched it for me. It never even occurred to me that the basis of my accusation toward Hazel was built on the information Lena had given me. I grabbed the ledge of the window and used it to balance myself as I shakily tried to make my way back inside. Now without Hazel's guidance, my legs shook. I felt unstable. Lena wouldn't lie to me, would she? Why? It wouldn't make any sense.

Now fully back inside, I looked back out into the garden one last time before shutting the window. I turned around now to look at the pendant, still sitting on my bed. Such a small item, yet it was tied to so much emotion. I picked it up and held it in my palm. It symbolized all my connection to my family. More than that, as Damien had recently taught me, it held with it all my connection to my people. The ravens, the wolves, the forest, Napaea. 

Yet as I clutched the stone raven carving in my hand, I thought about Hazel, and her own connection to her family. 'My heritage only ever brought pain and suffering to everyone I ever loved' she had said. There was a lot of pain when I thought of my own family too. They abandoned me, left me alone in this new and unfamiliar world. Between that and how they never even told me about our family's connection to our people, part of me was so, so angry. 

But now, holding my mother's pendant in my hands I remembered each time she had let me wear it while I was with her. Every time she had told me how one day I would be the Lady Revallia. How this very pendant, along with our family's name, would be mine. Now that it was here in front of me, I couldn't help but wonder why hadn't she taken it with her when she fled. Was it possible that she had left it on purpose, hoping I would find it? Did she maybe leave it for me?

In my mind, I saw Damien. Standing easy, smiling at me, sharing with me that connection to my family, my people, my roots. Next to him, Hazel, standing tall. She glanced at me with competence, self-assured as she beckoned me to leave behind the past and find my own path. Two people who had never ever met now went to war with each other in my mind. Each attempting to sway me closer to their point of view. 

I looked down to Argus in my arms, before walking over to the mirror to look at myself in full. Still dressed in the childish clothing Lena provided me. My ancient crimson hair spilling over my shoulders, red as blood. I lifted the pendant up around my neck, before letting it fall, It now hung gently in the center of my chest, beginning to gently rise and fall with each and every breath. Discordant in fashion in contrast to what I was wearing, yet fitting as it paired against my deep red hair. I looked back at myself in the mirror once more. There was something about me that was different now. I may not be the Lady Revallia, but I was a Raven, even if I was the last. I gripped the onyx charm close to my chest, a sharp pain spreading in my palm from grasping the stone's edge. 

I chose Damien.