Blood of the Mayfair: Chapter 32- Hail Rain or Sunshine

[cainspath]

Very interesting peek into Azrael's psyche. I love how the writing style reflects his thoughts. It's almost stream-of-consciousness.

I didn't realize but I'm glad that it's to your liking. Here's another serve of that, if you may. 

Yes, who is Garrett?
Garrett was my favorite character from my favorite childhood movie (Quest for Camelot).
Geralt is my favorite character from the Witcher series...
I'm all out of names close to that one though.
How does he relate to Azrael? Confused. I am confused and intrigued. I want to know more.

I'm truly sorry your game is lagging, I hate lagging games. Isla Paradiso is quite the painful place to be.

I'm sorry (sort of because it delights me that you feel that way). And I hope this chapter would someone give you a clue about it! And yes, it's quite the painful place to be. I'm trying to figure out what happened because it wasn't like this earlier. 

Again, it's hard to play with the lag. So please bear with me. I'm not comfortable with heavy amounts of text when I could have taken photos with them, so the text will only be for the photos that I can provide. Again, my apologies.

Starter
it continues, for The Cardigans

Enzalde Wintergreen has betrayed me yet again. Azrael cursed lightly. This is the last straw. His face wrinkled to sadness. How can Nana... How could she disappear at a time like this?



Azrael's an earnest waiter. He waited for Enzalde for days, but she never came. He started to worry and panic, until he saw the note on the table. He's not noticed it until today. Azrael Hawke is nearing the line of insanity. He was holding onto the last grain and he's losing it. Poor child has no idea where Enzalde is, though she left a note, loving and caring Enzalde, but never the one to explain. She almost never explains anything. He picked up the note and read it again.

Love,
I didn't wake you up. You were sleeping so beautifully.
You were having a good dream, weren't you?
I'm sorry I'm not there when you wake up,
but I can't wait to hear of your dreamland adventures when I get back!
I sent someone to be with you while I'm not there.
Be nice to him, dear.

Love you,
Enzalde

Enzalde left in the morning, when Azrael just started to have his dreams again. She knew what those dreams were and what they meant. She knew what those dreams were for and why he was having them. The timing. It was the worst possible timing. She has no choice but to leave now hoping that Azrael will not be hurt, that Azrael will continue to trust. That Azrael will still love.

He looked at the photo taken centuries ago. That was their only photo together, apparently.



This note. He was remembering something. He's been remembering a lot of things lately. I've seen these letter strokes before. Azrael's mind was a clockwork itself. He's been able to notice things that others couldn't at a glance. This is so much like that letter to "Mother." He grit his teeth. Alright, Nan. You want to play games? I'll play games. If he'd been a normal teenager he'd have celebrated. I'm a Hawke. I'm the only Hawke.

Azrael's lost it. He fails to understand. There's nothing to understand. I have nothing to understand. He fails to see the reason behind things. If she comes back and tells me all those believable lies...

Believe her.
He could hear a voice in his head.

If she still doesn't tell me what she promised, then...
She promised, he heard the voice again. It was sweet and nurturing but melancholic. It was how he imagined a mother's voice would be. My mother's voice.

Things were becoming a confusing swirl. She's hiding a lot of things from me. These things are about me and my family. Why would she do that? It can't be that... Hateful thoughts were coming to him. No, She's still Nana. His every being screams of pain from  the betrayal. If he'd been a normal teenager...

I should bathe. I need a bath. Yes. That's right. He submerged himself and stopped breathing. What would she do if she found me dead here? His body will smell and Palmira will wonder where he's gone. She'll be the first to find me. I don't want that. He got out of the bath. The idea of disappearing then and there was appealing to him.

Azrael: I'm seeing my very sanity turning its back on me.
Cai: Trust, A?
Azrael: I don't know. His voice had a hint of darkness to it. He headed outside to feel the air. He was suffocating. He needed air.
Cai: You know, all those assumptions and accusations you're harboring will really destroy whatever amount of yourself you have left. Be it your sanity, your trust, everything.
Azrael: You wouldn't understand. Nobody lied, and can lie to you. You have no idea how it feels to be betrayed.
Cai: Why do you think that? What's this about betrayal? Oh, the cynicism it inspires.
Azrael: You know. You probably even know where she is and why she's left.  You see the truth because you aren't there to be lied to.
Cai: The perks of being an imaginary friend, huh?
Azrael: Whose?
There was silence, a pause.
Azrael: So, whose?
Cai: Yours, maybe.
Azrael: You choose to lie to me, too? Alright.
Cai: No. I've always been here for you, haven't I? So has Enzalde.
Azrael: You've always been there for me? You're just a voice in my head. I can totally get you out of my system.
Cai: Didn't I say? I'm always here. Always have. Always will.
Azrael: You sound like her. So much like her. It was anger speaking.
Cai: Because we both care.
Azrael: I believe otherwise.

Azrael. Azrael turns his back to everyone.





Though the lag did make me want to tear off my hair, I was glad for the shots I took. Azrael seems to be in role.

[cainspath]

Well, I'm sitting alone thinking about it all over coffee.
And still crowdin' my space are the things you still hold against me.
You cannot save me.
Well, it's not the time to breakdown.
It's not the time to breakdown.

Breakdown
I don't know, Daughtry

That night was one of the few clear nights in Paradiso. It's been raining almost everyday, as if the whole Island was feeling Azrael's despair. But whatever the night or how beautiful it was didn't matter. It had nothing to do with what Azrael had in mind.



I'm going to unfold the secrets myself. She couldn't have brought everything with her. He looked at the photo again. He misses her and the laughs. He misses the food. He misses the late night arrivals and whimsical road trips.  Get to work, Hawke. He went to her room, not without hesitation but with a different resolve. I'll play your games, Nan. There was bitterness and mockery. Contempt. He stretched his arms. You have a lot to do. There's nothing to to but wait, but he doesn't know that.



He went upstairs like it was nothing. The innocence he promised to keep was lost. The patience he thought he'd have was gone. But the portraits were still there. This is unbelievably scary. Not. His sarcasm wasn't healthy. It reflected how distorted he had become.



He sat there for a while, staring at the two ghastly women. Why does she keep these portraits in the house. Distrubing. He stood up and looked at them once more. He thought for a while. This older woman seems familiar. Zarall. Remember Zarall. Yet he stood there still thinking, recalling. Nope. Nothing but a creepy, proud woman.



He turned his back to them and went to look for the book. Books. Who knows what's in here. And what isn't.



He was in a bad mood, as he'd been in the past days. There's nothing better than seeing you. He saw Enzalde's photo with Matty. It was on the same day Azrael thinks Matty stood up Enzalde. He still thinks that. Great. Just great. How can you still take a photo with him after waiting out in the cold? Lying saint. He bit his lip and regretted saying what he did. He changed his stance and turned to Matteo. Hello to you, Torres. I'm saving all my hatred for you. Pray that Nana gets back in time. He paused. And breathed. I'm betting your limbs her disappearance has something to do with you. What did you make her do now? You...



Matteo doesn't. Azrael's turned blind and close-minded. It wasn't only him that's become distorted; his reality has too. He was bent in destroying whatever he thinks he had to. After a good read of my history, that is. He dismissed the unworthy man from his mind and scanned through the shelf. He saw a book that might give him what he wants. Maybe. Just maybe.

Hello, unknown, freaky women. Do you mind? He was respectful, and without tact. It wasn't true that people can't change overnight. He sat like a gentleman would sit and consumed the book.



I don't have a family history to read about. This is all about... names. Thank you so much, Nan. For the hard work. For the consistency and constancy of your secrecy. It was a book of names, of all the Mayfair Witches and he doesn't realize that. Okay, useless book, it was more important than he would ever imagine, I'm going to feed you to the fire. He picked up the wrong book. The mistake can't be more obvious.

He stood up and got ready to leave Enzalde's room when he had another attack. He almost fainted.



No. I'm better than this. He is better than this. Better than any of this.

He burned the book. He was becoming less and less of what he swore he'll be to Enzalde and to himself. There's nothing here. She brought everything with her, after all. Fine. I'll wait. I'll be the most welcoming that I would ever be. He sneered and forgot what he really wanted. To find out about me. Psh. Forget it. Who needs history when we've got the present?

Despite his self-proclaimed hatred and hardened heart for Enzalde, he had been waiting. He always keeps Enzalde's letter in his pocket and read it whenever he missed her, though he wouldn't admit. Where's the promised company? It's been long, too since Enzalde's left. But nobody's come yet. Another silly lie. A question with an answer he hopes is favorable to him.

Despite his self-proclaimed hatred and hardened heart for Enzalde, Azrael would always sleep in the sofa, hoping that Enzalde would sneak into the house at night. If I catch her. He would sigh. She has a lot of explaining to do. But whether Enzalde sneaked into the house or not, he never found out. He would never. He'll be kept sleeping in his room, and for a reason.



He was a heavy sleeper. Strangers with keys to the house could get in without trouble, walk close enough and he still won't wake up. Azrael was the heaviest sleeper. The promised company turned up. And he'll have him sleep in his room.





The man was on his phone and dialed to who seems to be Enzalde. I'm here. He's sleeping soundly. There was a pause. I think the kid's been sleeping in the sofa. He's been waiting for you. It was Enzalde. Azrael would want to hear her voice, too. She'd been the mum he never had and she left.

When he saw him waiting by the door of his room the next day, he shrieked and threatened to call the police. He did look suspicious. He cleared the misunderstanding but Azrael refused to talk to him. He can keep his name to himself. He never did talk to this man. Never cooked the meals he made, even if they looked incredibly delicious and tempting. He even makes fruit parfait. He didn't like that this man hid his face and always looked at him like he was a lab rat. He always, if not always stood as close as he can to Azrael, until he gets shooed away. Seriously, a mask? A masked man doesn't make things any lighter, Nan. He wanted to laugh. He would have laughed if he was his old self.

When he didn't grovel on his remorse, he thought about school. Well, there was one thing that didn't change. He came to class and did his homework. He even signed up for the debate and sports club. At least I'd be spending two more hours in school. There's nothing at home to go back to. Except that man. He would spend time at Tony's house playing video games or watching stuff that shall not be named until a breath away from curfew. All to stay away from the house, from that man.



Azrael found this man weird, rather, creepy. He would dance to dork music; eat through his mask and by his nose. Who eats through his nose? Those are chunks for cyring out loud, not IV! Sincere outbursts that sounded like science nerd jokes, which Azrael was.





The man would run around the house, surveying whatever he thinks need surveying. He was like a bodyguard. I don't need a bodyguard. He needs his Nana.



He made calls at the back, apparently. He saw him one time.



Azrael laughed less than the number of times he invited Chase over.



And the man would give Chase "the eye." Azrael couldn't see it but he felt it. The man was weird and reserved. Azrael can't read his thoughts, whereas Chase would always have thoughts about his family and some needs. Chase, seriously. If you'd known that I could read your thoughts.



The two spent free time watching real games, playing soccer and having road trips. He got himself an older brother, and a friend who didn't stay caged in a room to play video games. But he still preferred the road trips he had with Enzalde.



Because Enzalde wasn't there, he dedicated his time to school and friends, which didn't include Palmira. He rarely talked to Palmira. But he would always write her letters which he kept in his room- letters of apology and explanation, letters of questions and doubts. He stayed away from her because she had intuition. She would ask about Nana and I can't answer her. So he stayed away, only talked to her when there was a need and refused any invitation to her house. He rarely talked to Teodor for the same reasons. Azrael was still a kid. There was still a bit of Azrael left in him.

What he became made the grandmother in his dreams sad.



What he chose to do made The Mistress sad. This wasn't what she wanted to happen when she sent him those dreams.




Wondering about the Mistress? Wasn't she the "evil woman" who had seemingly evil plans, talking to the mirror- the same mirror that Raziel was talking to in Azrael's dream? Details, dears. The details matter, but there'll be more questions and answers in the next chapters!
PS. I feel guilty for only ever building up the mystery and never giving answers. I hope to give them in the following chapters. And Azrael's sourness and laggy game are making me want to cry. I'm speeding up so I can move out. Unless the game suddenly fixes up

[Pam]

This really is a delightful story, cainspath.  Both the plot and your writing style are fantastic.  You're also putting a lot of work into the formatting and appearance of your story, which I appreciate very much.  I do have one favor to ask.  When you use a font smaller than the default for the song bits, it makes it harder to read.  Would you mind letting it stay at 10pt and perhaps just using the italics on it?

I'm going to feature this story on our Facebook page.  Good luck!

[cainspath]

This really is a delightful story, cainspath.  Both the plot and your writing style are fantastic.  You're also putting a lot of work into the formatting and appearance of your story, which I appreciate very much.  I do have one favor to ask.  When you use a font smaller than the default for the song bits, it makes it harder to read.  Would you mind letting it stay at 10pt and perhaps just using the italics on it?

I'm going to feature this story on our Facebook page.  Good luck!

OMG. When I saw your name on the Misc Stories, my heart skipped a beat; I thought I wrote something offensive. Noted! Thank you!

[Pam]

OMG. When I saw your name on the Misc Stories, my heart skipped a beat; I thought I wrote something offensive. Noted! Thank you!

See?  I'm not so scary. 

[cainspath]

See?  I'm not so scary. 

Now that's scary.  

I'm having a phase and I don't know what to call it. But it feels like it's reflecting in my writing. I don't know. It makes me feel like I'm losing myself to it.

PS. I'm not feeling rebellious.

She's a rebel
She's a saint
She's salt of the earth
And she's dangerous

She's a rebel
Vigilante
Missing link on the brink
Of destruction
...
She's a rebel,
She's a rebel,
She's a rebel,
And she's dangerous

She's a Rebel
She's more than just some rebel, Green Day

Julienne Easter is agitated. She's been promised the next Hawke bloodline but nothing's happened. Her spirit was half a century old. That's old. With all the things that's happened and lost, fifty was old. And the only time she set foot to the Hawke household was a year ago for a gift-wrapping session called by Enzalde. Another precious year lost. Wintergreen has a penchant for good cause. Julienne hated that. And Hawke was busy giving his childhood crush a disgusting pretend-friendly hug. She knew how Azrael felt towards Palmira. He was sloppy at keeping his thoughts- a total amateur. But he was a source to tap. She can deal with that; She had no choice but to play along. This is Chase's fault. I didn't come here to play house and pretend. Chase was a cousin and a Mayfair henchman. Men could never join their ranks. Men were accessories to the Mayfairs. Disposables. It didn't matter that Chase was her full-blood cousin. He didn't have much use as women had and ever will among the Mayfair ranks. But what agitated her more than anything was having Mellissa smiling at her like a freak.



No. She can never live with calling Chase "dad" or "father." The man was younger than her. It was always Chase or Easter. And she hated being referred to as that in school. She liked to call herself Mayfair but she couldn't do that here. The boy knows. He should know. In her mind, she was a Julienne Mayfair. She was a Mayfair to the core.

She complains a lot about Chase but Chase was a better evil. He was fine with doing whatever for the sake of The Order. Her pretend-mother Mellissa had less use than Chase. She was a total goody-two-shoes who has no idea of what can happen sometime from now. She liked the snob of a Siamese cat Chase bought her. She's falling in love, too. Disgusting.



Everyone was happy and busy chasing after their happiness. Except maybe Chase. He had no dreams. He was donating his organs to the hospital under the pretense of being a resident because he always grows them back. He was something The Order called a useful defect. He's useless. So far. She found no use in regenerating organs when you don't have any power or fight to lose it over. He was regenerating an organ now. It always disturbed her that he wore this face everytime. Every time.



She was done cursing the people around her. She called Chase and Mellissa to The Ceremonial Circle. It was nothing more than a modernized fire pit. Ground markings are so last centuries ago.

She was strict in enforcing her Black Clothes Only and One Seat Apart Rules. But she couldn't do anything about Mellissa's slowness.



She dares plan to eat marshmallow touched by the sacred fire of darkness. Chase wasn't any better. He was roasting marshmallows with her.



There will be no ritual happening today. She had wanted to burn her on the spot but Chase stopped her. It was something not worth being called to The Order. He made her feel better by talking behind Mellissa's back. Translation: Some few feet from her face.



Julienne delighted in all things evil and cruel. Gossiping was petty but it made her feel better.



Julienne: I have an idea. She paused to find the right words.
Chase: Go on.
Julienne: Don't butt in when I'm pausing to think.
Chase: Sorry.
Julienne: There! Again!
Chase shut his mouth. He didn't know what Julienne could do to him. He never dared stay whenever she was doing things she had to do and take care of.
Julienne: Let's call him over. You've never invited him over, have you?
Chase: I never. You never asked.
Julienne: Well, I'm asking you to invite him now.
Chase: But it's 7 a.m.
Julienne: You dare question?
Chase: I'm just saying. Chase thought.
Julienne: I heard that. Just make the call.
Chase: Alright. Okay.
Julienne: Make sure to change out of those ritual clothes first.

Ritual clothes? How long will she keep calling these gaudy and inappropriate clothes in this weather as ritual clothes? They were nothing but thick and ugly garments.

Chase did invite Azrael over.



Azrael: Hey, man. What are you up to? It was speech Azrael has only recently adapted.
Chase: Drop by.



Azrael was quick as lightning. He used whatever excuse he had to get out of the house and Chase took advantage of that.
Chase was smart. Julienne at least recognized that part of him. But not enough to be admired. It wasn't enough to get her to bend over and bow.

It was going to be a long walk to the Easter Loft. Azrael could only oversee their modern haven from their house. The situation of the house overlooked all of the houses downhill and stood above the waters that preyed some miles away from Paradiso. But there was more to it than aesthetic inspiration. He doesn't realize it. He might never.

It was just enough time to have a chat with Han.



Julienne: In a matter of a year.
There were muffling sounds. Inaudible.
Julienne: Didn't you say you'd do whatever I wanted?
A faint muffling.
Julienne: Good. It's good to know where your loyalty stands.
She had Michael Han wrapped around her wicked fingers. Easy.

Julienne was starting to get impatient. Hawke is taking long. Really long. She seems to have forgotten the poor kid had to use his limbs for transportation. His teenage years made him forget about his so-called automated broom. At least she had time to fix herself up. She was dreadfully pink and girly. Those girls, what clothes are these! Her skinny subordinates were rather very supportive of all of this. The conversation backtracked in her mind.

Subordinate 1: So. I was thinking. Don't you think Azrael's really hot?
Subordinate 2: No! What is wrong with you. That dork is out of your league, hot girl. They were raising each other's seats and licking each other's baby pink toenails.
Julie: Quit fighting over that girly nerd.
Subordinate 1: Wait! They didn't seem to hear that blunt rude remark. Didn't you say your dad and him are like, she paused and started giggling, friends? She was well-trained in nasal manipulation. It sounded like it came from the bottom of a well.
Julie: What of it?
Subordinate 1: Well. Doesn't he like, come over! The two girls got excited.
You two, are crazy. No. He doesn't come over. I don't invite weirdos to my house. That wasn't true. Mellissa was there. So was she.
The two girls started whispering like crazy and when they were done, Okay so, we were thinking!
Subordinates in chorus: What if, They seem to have practiced this in chorus, you invited Azrael Hawke to your house!
Subordinate 2: It's brilliant! I'd quit cheer-leading if he asked me out. She forgot she just called Azrael a dork.
She raised her eyebrow. Sad news, lady. Hawke is mine, is what she would have said but didn't. This pair was horribly predictable. They went on over the same thing to conclude the same thing. Right. I'm leaving. Julienne left and the next thing she knew, Mellissa allowed them in when she went to The Order and gave them permission to ransack her medieval clothes. These clothes are not to my taste. This is horrible. Too short. Too. Too. She started tearing at her hair and yelled at Mellissa and Chase all day. It was a crazy day. That happened just yesterday.

Fine. Let's see what these clothes can do. You can dress a door knob but it would still look like a door knob.



Azrael was just in time, too. Apparently, Chase wasn't there. He called him over but he wasn't here. Here was Queen Jezebel of the campus. He forgot Chase's daughter was this girl.



Julie: What are you doing here, loser? She wasn't being honest. Her spirit was old but she had always been just a teenager. And she had no idea how to deal with boys.
Azrael: Your dad called, lady. She was old-fashioned and everything but not a lady.
Julie: Psh. Chase isn't here, nerd. I'd rather you leave. She wanted him over but didn't know how to talk to him. She was nervous and giddy. She likes him. She like-likes him and she's in denial.
Azrael: As far as I know, Chase owns this house. This isn't technically yours while he's alive. Azrael invited himself in and sat uncomfortably in the couch.



It was The Order's house. Poor kid doesn't know anything, after all. She mocked him in her clouded mind.

There was tension and silence. These two didn't like each other in school and there was no way they would like each other here. For Azrael, anyway. I still can't believe how this apple went so far from the tree. He thought about Chase and Julie and wondered if Chase knew what his daughter does in school, manipulating and blackmailing teachers and students alike and still getting away with it.

Azrael: Do you ever call Chase "dad?" He doesn't want to call her Juliet like everyone in school did. He didn't want to call her Julienne. Though he did want to try calling her Jezebel just once.

Julie could hear it. She heard everything and it made her want to jump on him and turn him into a toad. He doesn't even bother doubt others' possible capacity to hear thoughts. Did Enzalde not teach anything to this kid? She was disappointed with Enzalde. She was disappointed by her sudden disappearance too. Things would have been a lot more fun if she were here, not changing the fact that she doesn't like her.

Julie: Whatever I call Chase is my business, nerd. Stay out. She likes Azrael. But Azrael will have to die eventually. No use in falling deeper for someone who'll be oiled for power.

Julie's pretend mother arrived.



Mellissa: Oh, dear. You're here Azrael. You're looking for Chase, aren't you?
Azrael: Hello, Mrs. Easter.
Mellissa: Oh no, Azrael. You can call me Jjannette. Mrs. Easter is far too formal for me. She chuckled. It was Teodor Medina all over again and it stung him. He stopped hanging out with Theo.
Jjannette? Her name wasn't Jjannette. Azrael thought only Chase was sane.
Julie sent hostile thoughts to Mellissa.
Mellissa: Oh, right. Chase isn't here, honey. He had to leave suddenly. He left just before you-
Julie:Chase isn't here and that's that. So you can leave now.
Mellissa: Where are your manners, Julienne? Julie gritted her teeth. This woman was in no place to say such things to her.
Azrael: It's alright, Jjannette. I have stuff to do, anyway. Tell Chase to ring whenever he needs to. Good day, Jjannette. He turned to Julie and looked at her. Nope, this girls' thoughts isn't worth hearing.



It hurt her but she still likes him and she's still in denial. She didn't realize that she wore a weird face as Azrael went out.



Chase didn't go anywhere. He wasn't anywhere but the house. He was backyard.

Azrael is really losing grasp of everything Enzalde taught him.

He headed out and called Tony.



Azrael: Get those games ready. His supposed best friend fell to this rank.


Julie is adorable and I "antagonized" her
Palmira will make her appearance in the next or two chapters. I'm sorry for the delay.

[LivvieLove]

Wow! I've been gone and I've missed so much! I had a re-read a few things just to make sure I got it all This story is coming along so well! I can't wait to see Palmira!

[cainspath]

Wow! I've been gone and I've missed so much! I had a re-read a few things just to make sure I got it all This story is coming along so well! I can't wait to see Palmira!

Welcome back!  Thanks. I have to say though, I was mind-wrecked because their relationship progressed weirdly. It sort of made me frustrated and lost for a while. I was partly to blame. I'll be explaining more in the chapter that follows. Or two. 

[cainspath]

I'm not sure if you noticed, but I've been spamming Jack Johnson songs. Sorry, but I'm a fan, and I'm out of songs (for this chapter anyway, rest assured I've titles for them but this one) The one I was thinking of isn't at all appropriate for this, and since I've been referencing songs I might as well do it til the end. I would love a suggestion! Actually, I demand it. 

And I'm not sure if you noticed, but I'm not exactly consistent with my writing. Sometimes I just have so much to say. 

In my face is flashing signs
Seek it out and ye shall find

Old, but I'm not that old
Young, but I'm not that bold
And I don't think the world is sold
I'm just doing what we're told

I feel something so right
By doing the wrong thing
And I feel something so wrong
By doing the right thing

Counting Stars
OneRepublic

There was a deafening silence amongst the woods. The Keeper of the Forest stopped to listen. The clouds were rumbling and roaring. Rain was coming. Pain will pour along with it.



Her light bare feet brushed against the grass as she tread her way to the Falls. It was then when the clouds cried. The skies of the Forest was lamenting the impending peril, hiding behind the darkness of the precipitation. The Keeper let the whispers of the miserable to the rain, soak her. Every drop screamed of pain and hunger. Every drop wailed. The sound of agony was tormenting, with every thud and splatter of the rain in its journey back to the welcoming earth. This realm was on the brink of destruction and she can do nothing about it. It was what caused her and the Forest pain.



She peered into the sacred water of the falls. She had been looking at a thousand souls like a thousand stars that scattered in every sky but the Forest. She looked at these souls like candles waiting to die out, every day. There were no stars in her realm; there was only suspicion and growing misery. She could bear it no longer but she was powerless. Her power is no longer as it was. She left the home that sheltered her, to go back to the earth, to return to what she has turned her back on, when she selfishly wished to be seen and loved.

She touched the water. The pain is seeping out of this realm. She was worried. She didn't think that running after a childish dream would lead to this. But it was too late, it was centuries too late. She sheds a tear, blood-stained, it was and the water washed it away, the wind caressed it dry. She was growing weak.

Some time ago, part of her died protecting what she had to.

She touched the water and closed her eyes. She let the sacred water embrace her.



That clear night in Paradiso, a thousand stars were looking down on Azrael as he slept, crouching and uncomfortable but nonetheless asleep. Even with trouble ensuing, he sleeps like a log. He sleeps like he always did.

That clear night in Paradiso, someone came over to visit. That visitor had intentions.



She was cautious. Her place in The Order was being questioned. Any wrong move for her will cause her doom, and of everything she tried so hard to protect.



It was her, the sender of dreams. The Mistress and Madame that the mirror had so wanted to flee from, had it a body to leave. Why would she go here, if she had the mirror to send?



Her footsteps were light and unwavering. She was being carried into Azrael's room. The boy's room was locked. She uttered a whisper and the wind glided through the lock.

A faint click.

There was a light creak from the hinge of the door as she walked in.



Her footsteps were silent. Lighter and more careful than a cat's.

She inched closer to touch Azrael, as if not to touch him but grab him, or something else.



What it was wouldn't be known. A sudden surge of pain ran through her.



No. Her eyes welled up. It was painful. She couldn't get close to him.

Is this all there is to it, despite her hard work? She fixed herself to leave when the Masked Man rushed in as careful but less lightly as she did.

Masked Man: Mistress! It's dangerous for you to be here! He was genuinely worried. He did not want her to be here for fear of being discovered. Discovered by Julienne, discovered by The Order.

It was going to be a conversation exchanged in silence.

Mistress: Leave. It was an order, with gentleness adorning. It was soft and adamant, but with respect.
Masked Man: Mistress, you can't be here.
Mistress: I can't stand by and watch everything fall apart.
Masked Man: But you are weaker here! There was a sense of urgency in the young man's voice.
Mistress: Please, leave me. Leave me to mourn my failures.
Masked Man: I cannot. Our family has pledged its loyalty to your bloodline.
Mistress: You have, and I wish you to leave me with this child.

She looked at Azrael. It was a gentle and yearning spell, as if she was left in a trance.



Masked Man: I cannot. Please. Please, listen to me. He was pleading and begging for her to listen.
Mistress: If the Order finds out.. She trailed off.
Masked Man: I will not let that happen. Your plans must be carried out. And Fate passed on.
Mistress: Fate. She laughed softly and bitterly. This is all about Fate and me turning my back on it, isn't it?
Masked Man: I do not wish to agree to that.
Mistress: Oh but you have to. You have no choice. Her humor was making him feel guilty. He should have seen this coming. Had he not turned a blind eye to the Mistress' stubbornness, she would have stayed where she was, watching from afar and not endangering herself. Oh, please, child. How old do you think I am?

She was older than the Order. She was the Order before it was realized.



She was the true Mayfair.

Mistress: I need air. Lead me outside.
Masked Man: Yes, Mistress.
They were night crawlers in a classier sense. They tread lightly and softly as the wind would whisper in the night. They were invisible.



As they slipped outside, she stopped to look at the stars.

Mistress: I haven't seen stars for so long.
Masked Man: They are nothing but fireballs light years from here.
Mistress: That's true. But I can never make something as magnificent as stars.
Masked Man: I do not understand what you wish to say, Mistress.
Mistress: The sky is a canvass, is it not? And everything you see- the change of skylight tides, the playfulness of the stars, the blink of the moon and the sun... Her voice faded.
Masked Man: But you have your own canvass.
Mistress: Don't be insolent, child. My canvass is nothing compared to this. The Forest has no stars. The Forest is shambling to ruins. And it's all my fault.
Masked Man: I believe otherwise. With all due respect, Mistress. I believe it was just your yearning and loneliness. You could bear no longer your being.
Mistress: Ah, but that is where the fault lies. She sighed and smiled weakly. I fell prey to worldly desires. Like these, these... She couldn't say it. She was guilty and she had done something which can never be undone. Tell me, child. Where is this shack The Order has spent thousands on? She was referring to the Easter Loft.
Masked Man: Right where you can see it, Mistress.



Mistress: Is this the reason for this? Referring to the situation of the house.
Masked Man: Yes. He stopped. There was something else he had wanted to ask about. Enzalde, she-
Mistress: Is safe. So is Quillaia.
Masked Man: Thank heavens! He was relieved. He was happy and relieved. Happy was an understatement- his joy was beyond words. He remembered his conduct and stopped.
Mistress: You are permitted to express your joy. Had I ever suppressed your feelings in any way?
Masked Man: Never. He was ashamed. Thank you, Mistress. I can never be more grateful.
Mistress: Tell me, this Julienne. The Order has kept her in the dark for so long. Kept secrets from her.
Masked Man: She is sent here to ensnare Azrael.
Mistress: Oh, but I can see the boy is well ensnared by another. Such a lovely girl.
Masked Man: Palmira Medina is something special, Mistress. Though it has not been confirmed yet.
Mistress: Wonderful, no? She smiled. She knows. But the delight of having the youngsters find out for themselves is incomparable.
Masked Man: The boy is hostile to me.
Mistress: Isn't that easier? He has become rather demeaned, if I must say it.
Masked Man: Mistress, for you to say that about -.
Mistress: Hush, now. It is nothing rude or disrespectful.

They talked some hours until daylight. Of the plans, the future, the past. Why it was all happening. What will be happening. Daylight was dangerous and she had to leave.
Mistress: Expect me, child. She whispered to the wind that stroked Azrael in the ear.

She went to the secret lake in Paradiso and bent down to touch the water.



That night in the realm, some few stars appeared.



One of her many spirit forms neighed in joy.





I wanted to write more, I've been itching actually but I might end up giving a chapter overload so I'm cutting here. Are there questions? Reactions? I will leave theories to you, but I'd like to hear it, too! 

Next update will be sometime during the weekend.

[LivvieLove]

Hmm, title for the story eh? I'll give it my best shot... Hmm.

Marry the Night - Lady Gaga.
Dark Horse - Katy Perry (not entirely a huge fan, but the song is very good, it kind of reminded me of that chapter).
The Catalyst - Linkin Park.
Counting Stars - One Republic.
Tiptoe - Imagine Dragons.

I'm into a lot of different music (but this is the most normal music I listen to - normal meaning for people my age in my area). You don't have to pick any of those particularly, they're good songs (in my opinion, of course).

Anyways, for writings, I love it. This story is getting so deep! I may be a little confused and maybe I just totally missed it, but this guy in the mask, can Azrael see him? I mean, and if so... does he care that he's there? Obviously he works for the Mayfairs, but what does that mean in this case? So many questions! A lot of them will likely be answered soon by other chapters, so I can't wait to read more!

[cainspath]

Hmm, title for the story eh? I'll give it my best shot... Hmm.

Marry the Night - Lady Gaga.
Dark Horse - Katy Perry (not entirely a huge fan, but the song is very good, it kind of reminded me of that chapter).
The Catalyst - Linkin Park.
Counting Stars - One Republic.
Tiptoe - Imagine Dragons.

I'm into a lot of different music (but this is the most normal music I listen to - normal meaning for people my age in my area). You don't have to pick any of those particularly, they're good songs (in my opinion, of course).

Anyways, for writings, I love it. This story is getting so deep! I may be a little confused and maybe I just totally missed it, but this guy in the mask, can Azrael see him? I mean, and if so... does he care that he's there? Obviously he works for the Mayfairs, but what does that mean in this case? So many questions! A lot of them will likely be answered soon by other chapters, so I can't wait to read more!

Oh no, you totally missed it!  It's in Chapter 15:
When he saw him waiting by the door of his room the next day, he shrieked and threatened to call the police. . .
I'm already assuming you have ideas to these people's identities and roles.

Kekeke. 


The Catalyst is giving me ideas, but since the chapter's about her, I'll go for Counting Stars. Thanks! 

[cainspath]

Contrary to popular belief, which I have perpetrated, Azrael has friends. I've realized how much I've focused on Azrael and his excessive emo-ness, failing to show his interactions with other Sims, so if you may, excuse the compression of the few friendships he's made. And I'm not sure about the turn out of this relationship (Palmira), but here it is; because I don't really have decent photos, please bear with me.

Also, as an explanation to my late update, I've been in an immersion this weekend and met a religious order of women founded at 1813, they reminded me so much of the Mayfairs.

[Edit] Lastly, I would like to apologize for forgetting to include this one very important detail (Palmira's "apostrophic" comment). I don't know why but I forgot, I realized when I was about to transfer the files.


Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor.
Reaching for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?
For me it happens all the time.

Need You Now
Both in its romantic and non-romantic sense, Lady Antebellum

The gentle melancholic voice haunted him for days and nights that followed, which he blatantly dismissed as the imaginary friend he cast away some time ago, but he started having doubts after a few playbacks and realized the difference in their character- the imaginary friend, or voice in his head as he'd believed was sarcastic and a wee bit annoying in its refusal to answer questions he asked. It never appeared but answered whenever called. He misses that voice and the entertainment it gave him. But no, no more. Had people known, they would call me mad and maybe drive me to a stake, the shivers it sent him. Had people known... they wouldn't have cared. Modernization had its own set of novel cruelties, enclosing man in ill-painted white rooms, gray rooms, embracing himself beneath a straitjacket because he has no choice. There were labels for everything that they couldn't identify and prove. It was sad but it was reality. A little more of insanity's claws and I'll follow. He was lost in contemplating the reality of his imaginary friend when he faintly heard the whisperer's voice. It was inaudible, but recognizable. Rats, I'm crazy. He mused and focused, bent in finding out the source of this voice. The source of this voice could be real. He sighed to the gentleness of the voice and its contrast to his imaginary friend's shrill. Zarall, Mayfairs. Witches. All of it was surreal. Nobody would believe him. Shoot, shoot. Shoot! He bit his lip. He's not crazy. Am I? Schizophrenic, in a special way? Meh, can't be. He paused, and considered the possibility. At the moment he isn't his most stable. His thoughts brought him outside for some summer air.



Nan, he dug his hand into his pocket and opened Enzalde's crumpled note. Nan, he was remembering the Sunday sunset of long ago. The conversation played in colorful tones of his imagination.

Enzalde: ...They sent a Mayfair to marry Zarall.
Azrael: What's a Mayfair, Nan?
Enzalde: It was an order of witches.
Azrael: Why is it called Mayfair?
Enzalde: In honor of the great Mayfair Witch.
Azrael: Where is she?
Enzalde: Nobody knows.

It was an order of witches. But for how long? All of those, if they happened, were some centuries ago. His dreams continued to elude him. They seem to have faded into mist the way Enzalde did. Could it be they're still...

His phone rang.

Tony: Dude, prom's in a few days.
Azrael: You called to tell me that?
Tony: I know you know, and I know you're itching to ask Palmira to go with you, but you're slow.
Azrael: Excuse me? But he didn't say that. Come on, man. What's the real reason for this annoying phone call?
Tony: I heard Harvey wanted to ask her out.
Azrael: Hamada?
Tony: Who else?

Harvey Hamada- the blue-haired boy Azrael only recently started hanging out with. He was the same Harvey Hamada that Azrael did childish and fun things with when Tony was immersed in his online games and Chase was busy regenerating his organs.



Tony: Man, you still breathing? Tony broke the silence. He was half-worried and half-amused.
Azrael: You called just for that?
Tony: Don't be a baby, man. I know you like her so bad you sketch her face on every page of your notebook.
Azrael: You what?

If Tony saw that, then who else could have? He was genuinely worried.

Tony: Stop acting like you're still in grade school. Talk to her, I'm connecting the line.
Azrael ended the call. There was no way he was going to talk to her. Not after all the times he shied away and stopped talking to her. Not after he ran away.

He paced back and forth. Paused to think, like he always does. That masked man? He couldn't ask the masked man, he might start acting funny, moreover, Azrael put the poor man on mute. Or something. The Mayfair business was flushed in the farthest corner of his swirling mind. Who do I call? Nan? But... He never did call her after she disappeared. He was hurt and everything he could have been and now he was just full of pride and unforgiving menace. He continued to pace. Stop being a girl, Hawke! He got his phone and dialed Han, the guy was a senior and graduated first, he should know more about girls. He couldn't connect. He resorted to SMS. Where are you when you're needed, Han?



A minute or two, and he was called back. Some excuse he made, but he was a friend. Michael Han was a longtime friend.

They talked comfortably, as if they never stopped talking after Michael graduated.

Michael: Just take her out, A.
Azrael: Why do I hear Tony in you?
Michael: That's the best approach to this. It's not foolproof. Nor is it genius. But it's better than nothing.

Mike's right. Why did he wait to be told again? To stall.



But there was no way he can run away now.

Palmira: A!
Azrael was not in any way delighted by the visit. He turned to greet her.



Azrael: Hey. Uhh. He dropped the call.
Palmira: What was Tony telling me? I was worried when you didn't get through! She was acting like they talked just yesterday.
Ah, the number of people I have alienated myself from, he made a mental note.
Azrael: It was nothing, you didn't have to run all the way here.



Palmira: I didn't. I brought dad's car, which is now, my car.
Azrael: I know, I've seen you drive it to school.
Palmira: Ohh, stalking me, now? She didn't wait for him to answer. Still taking the school bus?
Azrael: Sort of. He turned to his side. Well, yeah. The emptiness of it calms my mind. Palmira made a funny smile. Azrael's eyes turned to her neck. She never had this mark before she was sixteen. What was it? It bothered him but he didn't know what to ask and how to. Hey, Palmira...
Palmira: Didn't you always call me Myrrh? Why the sudden change? It wasn't sudden, they stopped talking so long ago and it was weird enough that they were talking now.
Azrael: Myrrh, don't interrupt me. They both laughed. Anyway, that thing on your neck...



Palmira: It's nothing, just a tattoo gone bad. It was almost a tattoo anyway. No. It was more than just a tattoo gone bad.
That surprised Azrael. He didn't think Palmira would be that extreme in taking measures concerning her fashion cult.
Palmira: I wasn't here for this, but you, Hawke, need a makeover. She changed the subject.
She didn't even give him a chance to make an awkward mess of himself. Palmira knew him too well. But, why was she suddenly imposing on him?
Palmira: You can drive, yeah?
Azrael: I can. I guess.
Palmira: Then let's see how much of the car you can wreck.
Azrael: Disfigure would have sounded more lady-like.
Palmira: Disfigure is subtle. Wreck is blunt.
Azrael: I forgot it was you we were talking about. They both smiled and seemed to agree with what was said.

She let Azrael walk off ahead of her to the car and thought of Enzalde, Nan, I don't think I can go on pretending I don't know anything. I'll probably endanger Azrael too, but I can't leave him alone. I can't leave him alone when he's like this, so I'm sorry for what I'm about to do. It may not be now but I might just do something. Please, please come back, he needs you as much as I do.



He's missed so much about her, but he knew- he knew who she hanged out with, what food she'd eat in the cafeteria, the kind of jokes she made. He knew what time she went to school even if they weren't in the same class. Palmira had taken interest in the arts and joined an infant club of design. She had weird taste but he can forgive that, or something. He was weirder in his crossing the line to becoming an official stalker.



They went to Barney's. When they got there, Azrael was back on his eccentric habits, which he thought he had successfully driven off along with the voice in his head.



Palmira: Come on, what are you waiting for?
Azrael: Osh, impatient girl.
Palmira: Hey, I'm not the one who's been waiting to be talked to after so long.
Azrael: In the end you still made the first move.
Palmira: Woah, woah! Nothing romantic, chap. If something's going on it's fine. I'll wait for you to tell me. First, let's get rid of those black clothes. You do know they absorb all light in the spectra? Of course, you know. But maybe you didn't realize, she paused, wanting to deliver a good punch line, it's summer, for crying out loud! Palmira was rocking, but it was weird for Azrael that she could talk to him so, normally. It was unnatural.

Remind me again why I like her? But the voice wasn't there anymore.

Palmira was excited, she dragged Azrael over to the mirror and started browsing some ideas off her mind.
Palmira: So, I'm thinking, red heels would be hot, don't you think?



Azrael: Not funny, lady.
Palmira: Oh come on, you sourpuss! You don't laugh anymore. You rarely! How did she know? Get your lazy bottom up there and let's work magic!

The thing is, after hours of deliberation and self-arguments, with Azrael standing in the mirror like a monkey, Palmira still wasn't any better than him at doing stuff like this.



Azrael couldn't hide his amusement and teased her. Palmira didn't take it lightly. Well, at least his arm and watch were intact.



Palmira: You've got issues and I'm not sticking around to deal with them. With that she marched off and left Azrael clueless. He tried to woo her but to no avail.



Palmira was Palmira, but it doesn't change the fact that she was a girl. And girls are girls, it's the ultimate rule. No questions asked. Heh. He smuggled a little smile, unconsciously remembering the things Enzalde told him.

Okay. Give her some time. It was petty, but he had fun and he missed her and her whimsical whatnots. So much like Nana. I need to wash my face.



When he was done he was shocked to see Theo standing on the doorway.

Azrael: Theo! What the-
Theo: No more Uncle, aye?
Azrael: I don't mind calling you Uncle, I just thought you don't want to hear something like that anymore.
Theo: Theo's fine too, kid.
Azrael: Why are you here? It was nothing impolite.
Theo: I was around and I saw Palmira running to the port. She forgot the keys with you, yes?
Azrael dug his pocket.
Azrael: Oh, crap.
Theo: It's fine. Once she's made her mind she won't change it. I take it you've a little fight?
A little? Making Palmira mad was the end of the world for Azrael, though he was still amused by it.
Theo: Come on, let's put an end to this nasty look of yours, don't tell people my daughter did this to you. Theo laughed his contagious laugh.



Fun was the last thing to describe the process of looking for clothes for the weather that he can still wear. Azrael was a picky Madonna, Palmira was a cowgirl- a sensitive cowgirl. It took long but he was glad they found clothes sooner.



Theo: I vote for a haircut. Theo raised his hand.
Azrael: No way! It was a rather violent outburst. I like this length, Theo.
Theo: That's the only reason? It's getting hotter and a long hair doesn't help with anything. It won't be helping you with anything.
Azrael: Yeah. I'll cut it before prom, or, yeah. I'll cut it before prom. No. Enzalde adored his mane, she even brushed it for him when he was younger.
Theo: Enzalde could have been here to help you out, kid.
Azrael: Uhh-- Nan is...
Theo: I know where Enzalde is. She's had stuff to take care of. You know how doctors are.
Azrael: Why so far from Paradiso? He thought and couldn't say it. Did the lie infect all of Paradiso? Or I was just horribly paranoid about everything. It's too late for anything.



Theo: Come on, kid, let's go to the canteen for a while and talk.
Azrael: I can't, there was hesitation in his speech, I've stuff to do, and stuff.
Theo: This is me asking you as the Uncle who wants to have a chat with his nephew.
Azrael: Sorry. It's just that there are so many things I'm confused about. Now he was being honest.
Theo: Well, there's nobody at the canteen right now.
Azrael: Sounds good, I guess.

They sat on the gaudy chairs, shoes buried in grass and sand. It was like a conversation between father and son. It was like two old friends having a catch-up chat after ages of not seeing each other. Theo tried to explain Enzalde's disappearance and it upset Azrael why he could tell Theo and not him, they'd always been together and she was so much like a mother to him. He wasn't sure if he was going to believe Theo or not, but Theo was a good friend of Enzalde's. He was still confused. He was still in distrust.



Theo: You like Palmira, don't you? Azrael choked and he choked bad. There wasn't even food but he choked anyway. Don't worry, I'm fine with that. So long as you don't do anything stupid, you two.
Azrael: I haven't even told her. Theo laughed.
Theo: Of course, I'm just saying that I know and that I'm fine with it.
Azrael: I haven't even asked her to prom yet. Now, where did that come from?
Theo: Well, why don't you ask her? For all I know you two had always been together. Well, until your last days of childhood, anyway.
Azrael bit his lip; he was feeling guilty.
Azrael: She doesn't want to talk to me, though, refusing to answer her phone too.
Theo: I'll drive you to school, kid. She went there.
Azrael: But it's Sunday.
Theo: It is. Her fashion cult is more active these past Sundays. Heh. And he never asked her why.
Azrael: Oh, they have this fashion showcase by month's end, or something.
Theo: You seem to know more than I do, Theo teased and Azrael blushed in embarrassment.
Azrael: I don't know a lot, and about many things.
Theo: That's fine, Azrael. I've been through that, and sometimes, the less you know, the better you'll be. The safer. Azrael was worried by what Theo said, it had some tone to it but he couldn't identify what. It bothered him. Well, it's already this time, Palmira could be on her way home now, so let's go.
Azrael: Thanks, Theo. Talking to Theo unloaded a lot of heaviness off his chest. He didn't have answers to any of his questions about Enzalde but it was fine, he was slowly moving on and talking to people again. He was reconnecting to them. All that was left unresolved was his problem with Enzalde. There will be a time for that, he comforted himself.

He picked a flower along the way. Whatever it was, yellow was a good color.




I'm at the back biting my elbow because I realized how much a good husband Teodor could be to Enzalde and I've been entertaining the thought of sacrificing Palmira in exhange of Theo. Dear me. I don't know what to do.

[LivvieLove]

I don't know, Palmira has such a background in this story. Theo is a good guy, but Nan hasn't even been around long enough to pursue it (at least, in the story).
Anywho, I do believe your story was very well put together (despite saying you lack decent screenshots?) and I was very immersed once again. Your story always drags me in.

[cainspath]

I don't know, Palmira has such a background in this story. Theo is a good guy, but Nan hasn't even been around long enough to pursue it (at least, in the story).
Anywho, I do believe your story was very well put together (despite saying you lack decent screenshots?) and I was very immersed once again. Your story always drags me in.

Don't worry, I'm way too deep into the story to be going back and have Enzalde marry/fall inlove with Theo, though they did get those sparks the first time. Matty tricked me into thinking he was a better match!  And it was just wishful thinking on my part. But I've been eyeing this one girl (for Azrael) for a while now, but that'll probably be just wishful thinking too. 

And thanks, it's only just I wanted better shots but couldn't find any.

[cainspath]

These are just some photos I think I'll never use in the story but wish to share, such as pseudo-updates/teasers and my whims.

The real reason for Palmira's mood and sudden/urgent leaving is actually this:

Palmira: Dang, I can smell myself so bad.



I just had to share this. I think Palmira is adorable here. 

If you notice changes in A's clothing, it's because I'm never satisfied.

A: Mike? What is he doing here? And now? What a nice car you're driving.



He'll be getting/has gotten his haircut too, guess why! 

A: You think that's funny?



Crazy kid talking to nobody. Don't you think his hands are way too delicate? And that muscle definition.

Blame the father.

Updates will be posted later today or early tomorrow.