It was not the smile of a girl wrongfully accused.
Not the soft, broken grin of a woman clawing her way through the ashes of another doomed life.
It was the smile of a woman reborn, ready to fight for this life.
Make hell for anyone who steps in her way…
A villain, by choice, that the people made her choose.
Silas didn't flinch. But his eyes–those cold, unreadable eyes–narrowed just slightly to see her, to see who she truly is ready to become.
And by the eyes of hers he knew a storm had been born inside her this lifetime.
Ready to be unleashed and ready to fight for her life.
The Carriage Ride
As they began to walk out of the court people started to whisper in their shadows as always.
But Moriah only gave them a wicked smile, showing everyone that they made the wrong choice, the wrong person to badmouth.
As they walk out there are even more people whispering "she should have been killed", "A murder", but she didn't even look at them, the only reaction she gave them was a laugh that stopped everyone..
She's in her own mind and Silas could see that, feel it even.
He knows it how it is to be wrongly accused of something he didn't do.
But as soon as His thoughts went further the carriage arrived and Moriah was already walking in and sitting.
As soon as Silas went in and sat down the carriage started to move and all of their worries were gone for a moment.
The city blurred as they were sitting looking through the windows, cloaked in the hush of pre-dawn and the distant toll of bells that rang for someone else's sins. Moriah sat across from Silas, her body bruised by injustice, her mind sharp with awakening.
She was no longer begging for understanding, for forgiveness, for some insurance. She was rewriting her part in this damned story.
"What happens now?" she asked, leaning her head against the window as if the world outside could give her an answer.
"You train," Silas replied. "You learn to survive.''
"Funny," she murmured. "That's what I did last time. I learned how to beg. How to kneel down for my pleading. How to smile while they whispered "murderess" like it was my name."
Silas turned his gaze to her, not looking through the window anymore asking. "And now?"
In return she lifted her chin and smiled. "Now i learn how to fight back, be the villain in their stories."
As she said that the carriage hit a bump, and for a brief moment, she swore she saw her own reflection in the glass–only it wasn't her. It was one of her past selves.
One with red lips and cold eyes, wearing a crown of thrones.
Burning cities down with a wicked smile on her face and her red eyes glowing.
She looked at herself, blinked. And it was gone.
But her resolve hardened, she was ready to fight, to show all of these damned people who she really is.
If they want her to be a villain then fine they will get a villain.
Silas Pov : The Watcher
Silas had watched her across centuries, across lives.
In this life, she was different.
Wilder. As though the thread that stitched her to sanity had frayed just enough to let something powerful through. Not madness–no, it was clarity.
Cold and precise. Purposeful.
And yet, even knowing what she might become, he couldn't stop the quiet ache in his chest when she looked at him like she knew him.
Knew him who he really was, a monster, a villain..
He had not been kind to her in the past. In one life, he arrested her. In another, he stood by as the blade fell.
This time, he had pulled her from the gallows himself.
But he didnt know why, why in this life he saved her…
He wasn't meant to interfere. And yet—
Her eyes had always made him falter, made him question his own actions, made him break his word to his father he made when he was younger…
Velcrim Manor : The Setting of Change
The ancient estate loomed like a relic from forgotten wars, its towers steeped in silence.
Moriah stared up at the building, then at him.
"You live in a fortress."
"I live in a place where no one dares whisper behind closed doors." He said looking at her.
"Perfect," she said. "I hate whispering."
inside , she was led to a room with large arched windows and a fireplace that glowed against the darkness.
A velvet chaise waited beneath a painting of a woman who bore a striking resemblance to her–but colder. More darker..
More crueler..
"Who is she?"
"One of your former selves." he answered me looking at the painting.
"Was she wicked?"
Silas hesitated. "She was brilliant. And terrifying."
Moriah smiled faintly. "Good. I want to remember how that felt." Silas looked at her eyes this time and smiled, showing his perfect smile, he doesn't show that much.
That night, Moriah stood by the window long after the embers died, watching shadows curl around the moon.
Her past lives whispered to her.
Names, faces, screams in the dark of the room behind her.
None of them friends.
None of them warned her.
They welcomed her instead…
Midnight Conversation
Hours have passed. But she still couldn't sleep.
She wandered into the library where Silas, of course, already sat, reading.
As if he never rested.
"I used to be terrified of you." she said, plucking a book off the shelf without looking at the title.
He didn't even look up just said. "And now?"
"Now i think i'm starting to understand you."
"That's more dangerous than fear."
"Is that a warning?"
"It's an invitation."
She sat beside him. The flickering candlelight casting shadows across the old scars on his knuckles.
"You've followed me through every life, haven't you?" she asked softly.
"Yes."
"Why?"
"To make sure you don't become what you're destined to."
"And what am I destined to be?"
He finally looked at her straight at her. "A queen of ruin. A goddess of ash."
She smirked thinking. "Sounds fun."
A heartbeat passed between them. Her fingers brushed the spine of the book sheheld.
"You never change, do you?" she said.
"I do," he said. "But only around you."
He said that looking at her, her freckles her lips and her eyes.
Silas Flashback
He remembered the lives where he let her die. A cruel death by the hands of a judge who judged wrongly.
She had been a healer. Innocent. gentle . and still, they had dragged her into chains, blaming her for a nobleman's sudden illness, well death..
Silas had watched her fall, again and again.
He still could hear the sound of her bones breaking every time he went to sleep…
Morning Training
The courtyard echoed with the clang of metal and the sharp inhale of effort.
Silas watched her strike at dummies and shadows with ferocity.
She wasn't skilled–not yet–but she was relentless.
"Again," he said.
She raised the sword, sweat clinging to her skin. "Say please."
"Again."
"You're lucky I like your face," she grumbled, and struck again.
He stood up and walked to her, catching her wrist mid-swing, bringing them chest to chest.
And for the first time Moriah was stunned by the action, by how close they were to each other..
"You're not taking this seriously." he said looking at her eyes and then just for a second at her lips.
He thought she wouldn't notice but she did, she always noticed little things.
"I'm trying to feel it," she whispered softly.
"Feel what?"
"The moment it all breaks. The moment I became her."
He stared into her eyes and saw it–the shadow of something ancient and violent.
"You're afraid of her."
"no ," she said. "I'm afraid I'll like her too much."
Their breath mingled. Neither moved away, just enjoyed the moment until one of them moved backwards.
She grinned at him suddenly. "You want me to become her, don't you?"
"No," he said softly, looking at her, her beautiful face, "I want you to become yourself."
Rooftop Tension
Later, beneath a bruised sky, she stood at the edge of the rooftop.
The wind tugged at her nightgown like invisible hands.
Silas appeared beside her out of nowhere scaring her a bit.
As she looked at him she said, "you always find me."
"I never stopped looking for you."
After he said that they stood in silence, the tension between them now less like a blade and more like a wire stretched to breaking.
"Why haven't you tried to stop me?" she asked. "From becoming what you fear?"
"Because this time," he said slowly, "i want to see who you are when no one else writes your story but you.''
She turns to him again.
"I could destroy everything.''
"Then let me be the first thing you don't.''
He stepped closer.
And as soon as he did her breath hitched to almost complete stop.
But as he stepped closer she didn't move away.
"I've died so many times,'' she whispered. "But i've never felt so alive."
He reached out–hesitated–then gently tucked a strand of her white hair behind her ear.
"Then live, Moriah," he said. "But live loud and how you want to no one controls you anymore."
Her laugh was soft and wild.
As he looked at her mesmerized by her.
They stood under the raising moon, the world below holding its breath.
And for the first time in countless lives, she didn't feel alone.
Beside her was someone who understood her and was as crazy as her…
As she again looked at him, he was already looking at her, at her lips and then out of nowhere he said two words.
"Ah fuck it" and kissed her.