"What happened?"
The words floated through the air, sweet and enticing, as if they were compelling Ophelia to respond. Yet, Astraea, still inexperienced as a newly turned Vampire-Witch, found herself resisting the allure of the blonde's charm.
Her charm isn't supposed to be this strong yet, Ophelia thought. Despite her ability to withstand Astraea's influence, it drained her. Her forest-green eyes locked onto the girl, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her thin lips.
"What happened?" Astraea pressed, her tone growing more assertive, radiating newfound authority. She didn't know where this confidence stemmed from, but she welcomed it, enjoying the fact that she stood her ground before a more powerful being.
Ophelia rose from her seat on a large rock and approached Astraea, brushing aside the question. "Come on, let's go inside." She noticed the defiance shimmering in Astraea's blue eyes, which now held a faint red tint around the iris—a rare sign of her transformation.
"Did anything go wrong during the ritual?" Astraea shifted her approach, realizing Ophelia had no intention of answering her first inquiry.
"No."
Astraea nodded thoughtfully, deciding to let the matter rest. Curiosity gnawed at her regarding the sympathy that clung to Ophelia, but she sensed it would reveal itself in due time.
Pushing herself up from the ground, Astraea brushed dust from her dress. "You changed my clothes," she stated more than asked, her voice tinged with confusion.
"Yes," Ophelia replied curtly.
"Why?"
With a sigh of exasperation, Ophelia snapped, "Why are you so inquisitive? It's just a change of clothing." Astraea frowned at the response, sensing that Ophelia had an underlying motive for the alteration. But she decided to set it aside for now and followed Ophelia.
Instead of leading her to her bedroom, Astraea veered toward the bathroom, eager to see her new appearance. As she caught sight of herself in the mirror, astonishment washed over her, accompanied by a gasp. Lifting her pale, slender fingers, she traced the contours of her smooth face. Her constellation-blue eyes sparkled brighter than ever, now adorned with a distinctive red ring around the iris.
Her skin glowed with an ethereal pallor, free of any blemish, while her once-pink lips had deepened to a vivid apple red. Astraea's gaze traveled down to her body, where her curves had become more pronounced. She had been beautiful before, but now she was breathtaking—radiating confidence and power. Yet, beneath that surface, she recognized her lack of mastery over these newfound traits, determined to work harder than ever to achieve her life's goals.
Stepping out of the bathroom, she headed toward David's room, eager to share her news and curious about the weight that had been troubling him recently. She knocked several times but received no response. Frustration built as she pounded her fists against the door once more, only to be met with silence. Pushing the door open, she entered, her expression puzzled.
Finding the room empty, Astraea's brow furrowed. She couldn't recall seeing him anywhere else since she had awakened. Scanning the house from the areas she was allowed to those she wasn't, she found no trace of him.
Knowing David wouldn't be in Ophelia's room, she ventured outside. After a while, she picked up a scent reminiscent of David's, and without hesitation, she followed it. As she walked further from the cabin, the falling leaves signaled winter's approach. Unbeknownst to her, she was picking up speed; within minutes, she became little more than a blur to the naked eye.
Pausing to assess her surroundings, Astraea realized she was taking too long to locate David. The scent lingered in the air, but it twisted in various directions, as if someone had deliberately scattered it to mislead her.
Hissing in annoyance, Astraea felt her fangs elongate as the red hue around her iris consumed the blue. Her environment transformed; colors shifted to shades of crimson, sharpening her vision.
As she sniffed the air, a crimson spot on a nearby tree caught her attention, tinged with David's scent. Astraea pursued the trail at human speed, still struggling to control her vampiric abilities. Upon reaching the source, her eyes and fangs reverted to their normal state. She turned to face the person whose scent had drawn her in.
Hiding behind a tree, she observed the back of a long silver-haired man, resisting the urge to pounce. She never expected to feel this way about her brother. As he turned, crystal-blue eyes sparkling with mischief, she noticed that his hair had fallen loose, cascading to his hip. He brushed it back, still focused on his conversation with Astrophel.
Astraea's heart raced, pounding against her chest like a caged animal yearning for freedom. She hoped he wouldn't notice her, but as their gazes locked, he smirked knowingly. Quickly, she spun around and pressed her back against the tree, holding her breath as she awaited their discovery. When no one approached, she glanced back, only to find him returned to his conversation.
Shifting her focus to Astrophel, she felt a swell of hatred bubbling within her, questioning whether Ophelia had hidden the fact that hatred was an emotion she could wield. Astraea sniffed the air again, convinced David was nearby despite not seeing him in the underbrush. Just as she was about to abandon her search and return to the cabin, her brother and his companions began to disperse, offering her a chance to uncover what had drawn them together.
Her stomach twisted as she stepped closer, gazing down at a bloody body sprawled on the ground, limbs severed and discarded like refuse. She watched, horrified, as someone cackled while hacking at the remains, relishing the victim's misfortune. Bloodied and broken, the body bore witness to unspeakable violence.
As she approached, the familiar scent confirmed her worst fears even before she saw the face. Astraea expected rage and disgust, but instead, an unsettling emptiness enveloped her. The desire to murder her brother loomed in her mind, leaving her to wonder if Ophelia had misled her about the dominance of attraction as an emotion.
Turning away from the gruesome sight, Astraea strolled slowly back toward the cabin, her mind swirling with reflections on her life—a series of misfortunes. She had often been told she was too naive and childish for a nineteen-year-old, yet that was how her brother had raised her. He insisted on keeping her youthful innocence, but she could feel changes shaping her speech and behavior.
Eventually, she halted, gazing up at the sky where birds soared freely—an irony that stung as she grappled with her newfound reality. Yet, despite the weight of her transformation, Astraea held no regrets. A sigh escaped her lips, and she muttered to herself, "I'm nothing more than an empty shell."