{1.07Â | Death Keeps Knocking on my Door | part 2}
Elara didn't see her father again until the morning. She spent the few hours left in the night on the roof of the Olde Mill, staring at the stars as her mind wrapped around their conversation.
She always knew she was dangerous. Even before she triggered her curse, her temper was quick to break, and whenever she lashed out, it typically left a trail of destruction behind her, but the destruction was usually vandalism and a few bruises. Not bodies. Cedric had essentially called himself a killer, and Elara wasn't sure how to feel about it.
The way Cedric talked about himself, talked about her; Elara figured out that he wasn't a normal werewolf. A normal werewolf wasn't given a strange title, nor were they hunted and tracked across the world.
And he was her father, the man who would've given the world to save her.
After the sun rose, she climbed down from the roof of the Mill with ease and made her way back to the school. The ringing had returned, and it grew louder the closer she was to the school.
"Elara!" a voice called out to her.
She turned her head, immediately recognizing the voice. Cedric came bounding over to her, his clothes from the night before gone and replaced with something she could've sworn she saw Alaric wear before. He wore a smile on his face, again.
"Hey, where were you?" Elara questioned. She stopped on the front steps of the school.
Cedric raised a hand, using it to push his hair out of his face. "Well, since I'm back from the dead for a brief period, I figured that I had to go talk to a friend of mine in town before I lost my chance."
"Who?"
"You may know her. Does the name Bonnie Bennett ring a bell?"
Elara paused, blinking. It did. In fact, Bennett was the first person she met when she came into town. The woman had approached Elara when she was at the Mystic Grille. She had been incredibly cryptic about who she was to Elara, but she had given the teenager a few hints.
"Yeah," Elara answered, "it does, surprisingly."
"Brilliant! Well, I had some questions for her, and now that's handled, we can talk all you want. Shall we head inside?" Cedric questioned. Elara was unsure of what he was doing, and she didn't know if the Necromancer had anything to do with it.
Elara nodded, following Cedric into the school. She still had a bunch of questions for him, but she couldn't quite figure out which one to ask. On their way in, they walked past Rafael and Cassie. The two werewolves exchanged a glance, and Elara noticed how upset Rafael seemed. She planned on asking him about it later.
"How are you adjusting to your curse?" Cedric asked.
Elara swallowed nervously. It was getting easier to talk about, but the details around Felix's death were still nearly impossible to explain.
"I'm adjusting as good as I can, I guess. After killing someone I loved dearly, my world came crashing down. The counselor and my friends have been helping me with my anger issues. The powers are easy to get used to, minus the extra ones."
"Extra ones?"
"Oh, you know," Elara shrugged. She assumed Cedric had dealt with the same ones before he died. "The potential danger sense that is the ringing in my head, the ability to read languages I shouldn't be able to, and the abnormal desire to protect the people around me."
Cedric raised his brows. "Oh, those ones. The ones that make no sense, right?"
Elara hummed as they came to a stop just outside of the library.
"If I may ask," Cedric began, speaking gently, "how did you trigger it?"
She inhaled sharply, her hands drifting together so she could twist the ring on her finger. "I'm not entirely sure, but what happened to him was my fault. His name was Felix, and he was my brother."
Cedric placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
A smile that didn't reach her eyes spread across her face. "It's okay. It's- it's in the past," she said. It didn't seem to convince him.
"I know, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, Elara. It's okay to--"
"Don't," Elara suddenly interrupted, dropping her head. "Don't. Please. I don't need advice about grieving my dead brother from my dead father."
She heard Cedric exhale quickly. He squeezed her shoulder, speaking anyways, "I know it's hard, Elara. Felix was your family, and you lost him recently. It hurts to lose the people you love, and I've come to learn that the only thing that can heal it is time. Remembering him will eventually lead not just to sadness but to happiness," he advised. Elara didn't want to hear, but she needed to. "Come on, I want to show you something." Gently, he tugged her towards the library, and Elara blinked away her tears as she followed after him.
They walked towards the shelves, going in between them. He examined them, as if looking for something in particular.
He stood on his toes, grabbing a book off of the very top shelf. When he pulled it down, Elara didn't think much of it. It looked like a lot of the other old books in the library. Hefty in weight and leather-bound.
"What is it?" Elara questioned.
"Let me show you," Cedric answered. Her brows furrowed in confusion at the sound of his voice. It was strange, almost like it was layered with another.
But she didn't have time to question it as the ringing returned, more intense than ever before, and she winced at it. Elara opened her mouth to say something, but then she noticed the color of Cedric's eyes.
Their dark blue was gone, instead his irises were a pure, ghostly white. The same white Alaric mentioned when the Necromancer possessed his puppets.
She didn't get a chance to react before the book collided with the side of her head, and her world went dark.
~-~-~
When Elara came to, she wasn't sure how long she was out. A groan left her lips as she sat up, but her hands didn't meet the smooth wood of the library floor, but the velvety cushion of Alaric's office couch.
Her father had attacked her under the control of the Necromancer. She couldn't even imagine how he felt when he came out of it. Cedric had made it very clear that he was going to use his time back on earth to help and protect his only child, but when he learned that he had hurt her, he must've rushed her to Alaric, panicking.
She jerked upwards, her eyes scanning the room. Night had fallen, again. The clinking of bottles sounded from nearby, finally revealing that Elara wasn't alone.
"Easy, Elara. Your head was hit pretty hard," Alaric warned from nearby.
Elara ignored him, climbing to her feet. She looked over towards his desk, noticing the trash bag in one of his hands and a half-empty bottle in the other. What had she missed?
"How- when did I get here?" she asked.
"Not long ago," his voice was gentle, as if he was consoling a child. "Ced brought you in here a few minutes ago. He figured out that you were attacked and wanted to bring you somewhere safe."
"He attacked me, Dr. Saltzman. The Necromancer made him."
Alaric's lips formed into a straight line. "I know. He kept control of him for a while until recently, when Cedric brought you in here."
"Where's... where's Cedric now?" she questioned, her voice coming out softer than she intended.
"Where's my dad?"
Alaric didn't need to speak. The look on his face alone answered her question. Her father-- his friend-- was gone once more.
She couldn't stop her eyes from watering as a bubble formed in her throat. She didn't want to show her vulnerability in front of her headmaster, who had lied about a lot of things regarding her family in the first place, but she couldn't help it. Her emotions had become easy to control, but this was something she couldn't hold back.
Cedric was gone, again. Dead. Vanished. The last time he saw his daughter was after he had attacked her. Her father was gone, again.
And she didn't even get to say goodbye.
Her thoughts were interrupted once more by the ringing. She grimaced, placing her hands over her ears as if it would help. It didn't.
Alaric was at her side quickly, holding her up as her knees tried to give out beneath her. A stabbing pain shot through her chest, and she felt a growl escape her lips. Her vision darkened.
Then she was outside of the office, her hands firmly holding Hope by the shoulders as tears fell down her face. Hope didn't need to tell her what was wrong, Elara felt it. She knew. Somehow, she knew.
"Malivore," she breathed out. Hope nodded, taking a shaky breath.
Cedric was gone, a part of Malivore was opened, and Elara's family was still dead.
It was too much, all of it was too much, and she couldn't contain herself anymore.
She said nothing else, wrapping her arms around the tri-brid, and pulled her into a tight hug as her tears finally fell.
~-~-~
Side by side with her roommate, Elara walked around the cemetery, one letter in hand. Some time had passed since Elara and Hope ran into each other. After some crying and quick explanations, the two eventually composed themselves. Hope began to write a letter to her dad, and she managed to convince Elara to write a letter of her own.
She decided to write two, and unlike that morning, the words hit the page quickly.
Her first letter was addressed to her dad.
Dear Dad,
Growing up, I wondered what it would've been like to have a father. I'd spend hours lying awake at night, imagining a world in which you and mom never died. It was perfect. I was happy, and we were happy.
But that's not how the world works for us. We were dealt an unlucky hand and pushed into a dangerous, insane life, but you did everything you could to make the best of it.
I don't remember the few years I had with you and mom before you died. Before you showed up, I barely remembered what you even looked like, but when I saw you, I didn't need to remember.
I'll never forget the few hours I had with my dad, with you. You showed me what it felt like to have a father. You showed me what the comfort of a parent was meant to be, and I will always remember it.
Normally, a father is supposed to give advice to the daughter, but I have some advice of my own. You shouldn't beat yourself up for something you couldn't control. It's not your fault the Necromancer controlled you. It's not your fault the witches killed you and mom. It's not your fault I have this bloodline. I don't blame you for anything.
If I did blame you for anything, I will forgive you. I always will. You're my dad. You're supposed to be perfect in my eyes, and you are.
I love you, and I always will.
Her second letter was addressed to Felix, but she didn't bring it with her to the cemetery.
When she finished writing, she had to ask Hope's help to fold it into a flower, and thankfully, Hope didn't tease her. Instead, she patiently showed her how to do it, and when their fingers brushed together or Hope grabbed her hand to adjust it, Elara felt her heart skip a beat.
Elara glanced over towards one of the gravestones, noticing Rafael and Alaric talking. Talking to them made the most sense. They were the only other people to know what it felt like to go through what she did. Rafael's girlfriend had come back to life. Alaric's wife and friend had been risen.
"Hey," Hope called gently, nudging Elara in the side with her elbow, "something on your mind?"
Elara let out a nervous laugh. "A lot is, actually. Starting with my dead father and ending with the rise of Malivore."
Hope looked down as if she was ashamed. "I'm sorry, Elara, for not being there for you-"
"Don't," Elara interrupted, her voice gentle and as soothing as she could make it, "don't blame yourself for not being there. It's okay, Hope. It's impossible to be in more than one place at a time, and it's not your responsibility to solve every problem that happens. You're so strong and could definitely save the world, but you can't do everything all at once."
"I can try," Hope insisted, stepping towards Elara. "I can always try, and I will, especially with you." A muscle in Elara's jaw twitched at that as she fought back a reaction. What kind of reaction she wasn't sure. "When I was in the Necromancer's mind, he showed me what true loneliness is like. It's dark and miserable, and it was only a glimpse of it. I have to find my own peace, and the truth is, I need you in my life to find it." Carefully, Hope placed her flower-shaped letter with several others.
Elara's mask cracked as her lips twitched into a smile.
"And whatever comes for us next, we do it together."
"Yeah," Elara breathed out, "together." She cleared her throat, restoring her confident demeanor. "We both know I hate admitting I have feelings of my own or that I need anything, but I need you to find my own peace, too," Elara admitted. She carefully placed her own flower-shaped letter next to Hope's. "So, it looks like we're still stuck with each other. As long as I'm alive, anyways. You're definitely going to outlive me, Miss Were-vamp-witch."
"Oh, my god," Hope breathed out, laughing softly. "Way to kill the mood."
Elara beamed. "It's what I'm best at."
Hope developed a small smile of her own, locking eyes with Elara, and a moment of contempt silence passed between them. Elara was unsure of who would break it first. Hell, she didn't want to know as long as the moment kept on.
Hypocritically, it was Elara who broke it. She cleared her throat, slowly taking a step back from Hope. "Well, personally, I'm glad the knife's gone. At least then, maybe things will calm down here."
"That'd be amazing, actually," Hope agreed. She opened her mouth to say something else, but she paused, noticing something on Elara. "You grabbed my bracelet, right?"
Elara nodded, reaching into her pocket. "Yeah, you told me to grab it if you forgot, and I did--" She pulled it out of her pocket, and the gem on the face of it was glowing a bright blue. "That's bad, isn't it?"
Hope took a deep breath, nodding. "It is. It means Landon's in trouble."
Just when Elara thought things were going to calm down, something else needed their attention. She was so unlucky.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me."
[a.n. surprise! double update. we're getting to the part of the fic that I'm really excited about and what basically inspired me to write it in the first place, so expect the next few parts to come quickly (hopefully).
~NYM]