✔𝚨 𝚸𝛐𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞 ➳ 𝚩𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝚩𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

Chapter 24

AN: So, I decided to throw some flashbacks in. Hope you guys like that! 

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The smoke rose beneath her feet and cold travelled up her spine as she walked out of the first pillar in the grand throne room where her family would most likely be present. Her whole body seemed to twitch as she walked down the long hallway, a strange group of people were standing there, but none she cared for.

Melora's body tensed and twitched as she removed the mask, groaning slightly as she felt the tenseness in her jaw and neck. This way of travelling was quite difficult and especially over such great distances.

"Melora!" Her mother's voice cut through her train of thought. Everyone in the room turned to look at her as she carelessly strode down the hall.

"Ah, hello Mother. I brought meat for the feast," Melora said with the doe hanging over her shoulders. Her eyes trailed to the group. An older man, older than her parents, was standing with two boys probably around her age by his sides. One with sharp features, thinner, and black slicked-back hair while the other was bulky and had rounder features along with long blond hair that fell freely to his shoulders.

"Why are you in that form!?" Her father immediately wanted to know.

"Aristophanes!" Melora's mother silenced, looking down upon her husband before, calmly, switching her eyes onto her youngest daughter. "Your catch is bleeding on the floor." The deer's mouth had slacked open, blood now dripping onto the ground... and her arm.

"Ah, so it is," Melora spoke and dropped the animal onto the floor.

"I thought we agreed you'd go with the light?" Her mother said while the older man watched them knowingly.

"For the battle, yes, but except for the deer, I don't see anything I have to cut open right now," Melora earnestly said, not a hint of disrespect in her voice, and her mother nodded. The boy with slicked-back hair smirked, keeping his head turned to the floor, but his eyes still found her, watching her through his eyebrows.

"Hecate? Is this her?" The older man finally spoke.

"Yes, this is my youngest daughter Melora," her mother said, and the man nodded.

This, like so much else, was not her place to speak, but she wanted nothing more than to ask who these people were and what gave them the right to look at her like that.

"And this girl truly is the best?" The older man spoke again as he put a hand on the black-haired boy's shoulder.

"She is," her mother answered, and her brothers scowled as if they would want to be in her place.

Melora had realised it rather quickly, one of these boys was the one she was supposed to marry so her mother and her little kingdom could come under the protection of the mighty Allfather.

The heat was rising in her hands, purple energy no longer smoke-like, but now, liquifying and dripping like blood onto the floor. Born to marriage and nothing else, what a wonderful life she was going to have. The blonde one seemed rather careless so-

The black-haired one then? It must be so. Her jaw tensed. Was she truly supposed to marry someone who would neither smile nor look at her?

"Melora, show Loki the grounds. Lysistrata take Thor," her mother instructed while Melora stretched her fingers and let the energy seep from her, flow freely so she would not do something she would come to regret.