» Inside Callian's Eastside mansion
A low moan echoed throughout the darkened room.
Its owner stirred—raising her head weakly as she pushed herself up from where she lay upon cold, dusty floorboards.
The girl opened her eyes slowly, blinking around at the oppressive blackness surrounding her.
Her breath hitched as a surge of panic washed over her.
She remembered. Remembered what happened.
She clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to smother the nausea suddenly flaring within her.
Her mother was… dead. Then she'd been taken.
The girl gave the impossibly dark room one more squint before breathing heavily.
Her eyes flitted about the dark void around her.
Then her head began to pound—violent and sharp. The feeling drummed against the inside of her skull—wrecking her fragile focus.
She groaned, her head falling back against the floor.
Where was she? Why was it so… cold? And why did her head hurt so much?
She rubbed her aching forehead gently, trying in vain to soothe the constant, thumping pain.
Right. The man had hit her—probably knocking her out.
She braced against the pain—gritting her teeth as she pushed herself up into a sitting position.
Slowly, she drew up her knees and began inching forward across the icy floor blindly.
Every movement she made felt sluggish—and didn't aid her already pounding head.
Still, she pressed on.
"I recommend you be still."
The low voice made her freeze.
Numb shock began to claw its way through her already frigid limbs.
The floorboards behind her creaked with a quiet activity.
She turned her head slowly, not even daring to breathe.
A pair of dull, violet eyes floated toward her through the dark—glowing just visibly enough for her to notice.
"You are not yet ready for complex movement," the voice continued, slowly crouching down to level with her.
She stared into the soft, violet eyes beside her. A hot anxiety prickled across the back of her neck—its needles of worry breaching through her cold skin.
Her breath caught as she stared into the feeble glow of his gaze. Prickling needles of anxiety spread across her skin.
She flinched, but didn't resist as his warm hand pressed against her collar and guided her back onto the ground.
"Where's my mum?" the girl croaked, her voice thick and raw.
She knew the answer.
But still—if there was any chance this was a dream… a horrible, horrible nightmare—she had to ask.
Please. Please let her be wrong.
"Dead," he replied, his voice soft. "As I am sure you still remember."
Burning tears stung her eyes.
She forced them shut—trying very, very hard not to cry.
She swallowed hard—choking down the rising lump in her throat.
"Where am I?" she asked.
"Eastside."
Her eyes flew open in alarm.
"E-Eastside?" she echoed, raising her trembling arms to hug her chest.
A bitter, pained laugh escaped her. She couldn't help herself.
"I'm-I'm going to die," she muttered—shaking in her panic. "You-You've killed us. The both of us. Humans can't survive in Eastside."
The violet eyes hovering beside her shimmered faintly.
"Normal humans," the man corrected—his words making her breath hitch.
"Your aspect is lessening the weight of the cold. You will not be harmed by it."
"You saw it…" she whispered, her voice fluctuating. "You saw my electricity."
"I did," the man confirmed. "As did the others in that street. That is why I killed them."
The reminder made her stomach twist.
She should be relieved remembering how they died. Helpless. Unaware.
They were monsters.
But she couldn't bring herself to feel eased. She couldn't bring herself to feel anything at all. Anything but despair.
Her mood plummeted again.
"Why?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Why bother helping me at all?"
A long, heavy silence followed her question.
The man's glowing gaze drifted away from her.
"Your electricity," the man answered at last. "It caught my attention."
Of course that's what it was. The only reason she was still alive.
The only reason she amounted to anything at all.
The girl shuddered.
Her mother had warned her about people like this—many, many times.
"I want to go," she blurted out, straining to return to her feet.
"Where?" the man asked—not a hint of resistance in his tone.
"Away," she replied—anxiety driving her forward.
She forced herself upright, struggling back into a sitting position.
She positively heaved from the small effort—her headache resurging in full force.
The glowing eyes beside her began to dim—slowly fading back into the blackness of her surroundings.
"You are free to leave whenever you wish," he informed her—undaunted by her desperation.
Then his eyes vanished—leaving her stranded in the lightless room.
The floorboards groaned as the man stood.
Light footsteps echoed—retreating away from her.
She turned her head to follow them.
Far to her right, a door creaked open.
"I will return to the mansion later. Rest while you can," said the man—shutting the door behind him.
Mansion?
"W-wait!" the girl called, scrambling forward across the room blindly. "Come—"
Her words caught mid-sentence as she tripped—her heart lurching in fear.
Her elbows slammed into the floor—sending a wave of searing pain ricocheting up through her freezing arms.
"Oww," she whimpered, her tears rising once more.
She slumped against the ground weakly—unable to fight the exhaustion overtaking her system.
She felt her consciousness flicker.
"Come back," she begged, her voice weakening. "Come back. I c-can't see."
No reply.
Only her own, ragged breathing was heard.
"Please come back," she pleaded, hot tears falling down her cold cheeks.
She trembled as the cold seeped deeper into her already numb flesh.
She drew up her knees shakily—blinking her tears away.
They trickled downward, sliding to pool on the ground beside her.
"I don't want to be alone."
✦ ✦ ✦
» Two days later
Callian approached the estate slowly.
He walked past its rusted iron fencing—passing through the open gate.
He did not bother with the long, winding stone path that led up to the house—instead choosing to brave the sea of gravel that surrounded it.
The ocean of loose stones crunched underfoot as he made his way toward the manor's entrance.
The girl was waiting for him there—sitting huddled atop the final stair.
She leaned against a crumbling stone bannister, exhaustion drawn across her otherwise calm face.
Callian approached—watching as the quiet crackle of gravel disturbed the girl's already fretful sleep.
As he ascended the stone steps towards her—her eyes opened.
She blinked sleepily—then started in surprise as she locked onto his glowing eyes.
She moved away from the bannister—her body quickly beginning to tremble with emotion.
"You left me," she rasped through cracked lips—her broken voice barely even a whisper.
Callian paused a step below her.
"Not for long," he replied—the lie prompting a flurry of emotion across the girl's face.
The flurry ended, very quickly, in betrayal.
The misguided sentiment haunted her pale face.
"You… left me," she said again, raw accusation overwhelming her voice.
Her hands shook.
Callian could tell she had no more tears to cry.
Not out of exhaustion or mental fatigue—but dehydration.
A brief moment of silence passed between them.
"Can you walk?" Callian then asked, his voice soft.
"No."
The girl's eyes fluttered closed. She looked exhausted.
"Then I will carry you," Callian said—crouching down to draw her into his arms.
The girl shivered as she felt his hands encircle her torso and outer thigh—raising her up into a bridal carry.
Warmth seeped into the freezing girl—the man's body heat beginning to thaw the icy coldness plaguing her.
She leaned into him—perhaps without meaning to—drawn to the only warmth she'd felt in what felt like days.
Callian carried her inside, stepping through the manor's open doors and passing over its carpeted threshold.
He moved across the foyer, slowly walking toward the grand staircase that lay at the back of the room.
"Tell me your name," Callian said, his voice measured.
The girl's fingers curled into the front of his coat.
"Zeri," she whispered, taking the barest solace in the man's presence beside her. "It's Zeri."
✦ ✦ ✦