welcome to my dark side. [open]

[Salomea]

There is something about the cool quiet of the night that speaks to me. My heart thrums with the closeness of it, like the seductive promise of a forbidden lover's embrace. I can feel Niklas somewhere off to my right; Set trails me to the left, both of them reluctant to return to a Beqanna they no longer know. I have only been here once before. Perhaps twice, long ago, before the memories of my life begin ... a sharp sting in my right flank snaps me out of my wistful reverie. I pin my ears, kicking out instinctively, eliciting a low hiss at the sharp pain of over-extension. A low chuckle hums in my left ear, tainted by the barest hint of malice, drifting off as he too, floats away, closely followed by the low panting of his hellhound companion. He cannot help himself. He is a demon, after all. My strained leg throbs with every step as we make our way to the myriad of scents that mark the Field, but I refuse to show my weakness. Though neither would truly hurt me, it had otherwise been kill or be killed my whole life. There is no choice but to live up to their expectations.   When I move into the clearing, Set and Niklas are nowhere to be seen. I tilt my head, the open area dimly lit by a cloud-ensconced moon, nostrils flared against the sharp air. There mixed in the scent of rotting leaves and the ordinary is their distinctive musk. They are still here.   I edge toward the soft roar of the waterfall. I ignore the few strangers that I do pass, the promise of icy water to soothe the thirst and ache of travel a sweet siren’s song. Pausing briefly at the water’s edge, I do not notice the dark shadow that slips back into the center of the lake as the clouds part, illuminating the Field. I wait another beat to allow my eyes to adjust and then wade in up to my neck with a soft sigh. Something – two, three, four somethings – wrap themselves tightly around my legs, dragging me out toward the deep center. "NIKLAS!" I shriek angrily, struggling to hold my nose above the water’s surface. I know from experience it is hopeless to fight his shadow creatures, but I strike out nonetheless, my earlier strain forgotten. It gives a sharp tug and the water folds over my head. It burns my eyes and fills my nose as I bob to the surface again. My lungs ache and my body burns with fury when I catch sight of Set’s laughing eyes, his two-toned lips drawn back in a wide grin.   “Mother - !” I have time to yell before I am pulled under again. I close my eyes and open them again on solid ground, my legs trembling beneath me, dark sides heaving. I meet Set’s yellow gaze, mirth still evident on his handsome face. Not mine. Seething, I shake the water from my coat, no longer comforted by the cool of the night. You think you would know better by now,” he ribs, reaching out to touch my shoulder in an affectionate gesture that instantly dries me off. “You think he would have grown up by now.” I scoff at the idea even as I say it. My uncle – who, really, given his eternal youth, was more akin to an obnoxious older brother – was like a petulant child when he had no direction. A powerful, wicked child.