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𓇢𓆸 𓆤 𖧧 𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𖧧 𓍊𓋼 𔓘
𝕋ℍ𝔼 sergeant's irritation was barely concealed as he glared at Philo. "Still chasing that bloke? How long are you gonna keep at it?" Philo's gaze was steely, unwavering. "Till I find him. And I will find him." The sergeant scoffed. "Yeah, well, you won't find him among these fine gents."
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure," Philo responded, a hint of something darker lurking beneath his words. "I think he might be closer than you realize."
The sergeant's eyes narrowed. "What are you insinuating?" Before Philo could respond, Melody's voice sliced through the tension, cold and sharp. "Jack's last victim suggested he might be one of you. A bald one, wearing a uniform, Sergeant." She turned her gaze slowly, deliberately, from the sergeant to the other men, her eyes glinting with unspoken accusations. "Some flowers have thorns," she added softly, but her words carried a dangerous edge. "If you're not careful, you might bleed." The sergeant's smirk faltered, replaced with a sneer as he turned to the men around him. "These fucking Critch. They'll say anything to get attention, won't they, lads?"
But Melody wasn't finished. She took a step closer, her voice a low challenge. "Then you won't mind showing us your arm, will you?"
The sergeant stiffened. "I don't have to show you a fucking thing." He started to walk away, but Philo and Melody were right behind him, their presence a silent threat. "You took an oath to protect the people of this city," Philo said, his tone firm.
The sergeant didn't look back as he replied, "Just like you did."
"And do you consider the fae among those people?" Melody asked, her voice cool but insistent.
The sergeant's patience snapped. "Why do you care so bloody much? What's this strange affinity you have for them?"
Philo's voice was steady, but his words carried a weight of conviction. "Because we fought beside their kind in the war. They bled and died, just like we did. And I don't like how this city's chosen to repay them for it." The sergeant stopped, turning to face Philo. "Ah, the war. I hear all sorts of things happened over there."
Philo's eyes darkened. "Oh, you heard, did you?"
The sergeant's lip curled into a sneer. "Can't blame a man for going a little heathen. No proper women around, just those beggared tinks happy to spread for a shiny burguish stiver. Easy enough, just close your eyes, think of your sweetheart back home. I heard it's like sticking your cock in a pail of greasy ferrets—or having one wriggle into you. Is that true?" The crude words hung in the air, venomous and vile. Before Philo could react, Melody's fist flew, her anger and disgust manifest in the solid punch that sent the sergeant sprawling. He barely had time to register what happened before Philo followed up, knocking him back down the moment he tried to rise.
"Stand up again, and you'll regret it," Melody warned, her voice low and deadly.
The sergeant scrambled to his feet, rage and humiliation burning in his eyes. "I'll fucking report you for this!" he shouted after them as they turned to leave.
Melody didn't even look back. "Do it!" she called over her shoulder.
Philo smirked, his voice carrying a final, chilling promise. "I can't wait to tell them where I found you." As they walked away, the sergeant's curses echoed behind them, but the siblings paid them no mind, their focus already shifting to the darkness ahead.
ଓ༉‧.⭒ֶָ֢⋆.
Later, as the night deepened, the siblings said their goodbyes. Philo escorted Melody to her small, charming house—a place that doubled as her shop. He bid her goodnight before she stepped inside, locking the door behind her.
The moment she entered, the air embraced her with the familiar, soothing scent of herbs and flowers. The entire space seemed to pulse with the life and energy of nature itself. Melody wandered through her home, her fingers brushing against the leaves of drying plants, her heart finding peace in the simplicity of the space. At the far end of the room, she slipped into her bedroom, a sanctuary of warmth and comfort.
In this cozy haven, the earthy scent of dried herbs mingled with the soft glow of candlelight, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The shelves were lined with books—volumes dedicated to the lore of herbs and ancient legends. Drawings and sketches adorned the walls, depicting intricate details of plants and fae, though one particular fae dominated most of her work.
A weathered wooden desk stood in a corner, its surface cluttered with papers and notes detailing her herbal concoctions and secrets passed down through generations. The flickering candle flames and the steady glow of a lantern bathed the room in an ethereal light, making the space feel both mystical and inviting. A bed, small but cozy, beckoned from a corner, its blankets and pillows promising warmth and rest. Through the window, moonlight spilled into the room, its silver rays mingling with the warm tones of the candlelight, creating a serene atmosphere that wrapped around Melody like a protective embrace.
With a sigh, she began to undress, slipping out of her coat, then her corset, and finally the red dress that had seen too much violence for one night. Underneath, she wore a simple cream chemise. As she stood in the soft candlelight, she turned to glance at her reflection in a mirror. Her wings, once proud and whole, now bore a heavy scar where one pair should have been. Melody's gaze softened as she regarded the scar, a symbol of both her strength and her loss. A sigh escaped her, tinged with sadness, as she reflected on the past.
Her eyes drifted to a drawing on the wall—a detailed portrait of a young, handsome fae, his features tenderly rendered with love and care. This was the fae who had stolen her heart, the one who had made her feel beautiful despite her flaws. A small smile curved her lips as she reached for the little braid in her hair, bringing the small spike to her lips and pressing a soft kiss to it. The memory of him was bittersweet, but it warmed her heart nonetheless.
After this brief moment of reflection, Melody prepared a light supper, the aromas of her meal mingling with the herbal scents that filled the room. After eating, she took a warm shower, letting the water wash away the day's tension. Finally, she slipped into a comfortable nightgown and crawled into bed, extinguishing the candles one by one until only the soft glow of moonlight remained.
The room, bathed in silvery light, felt like a cocoon of tranquility. Melody closed her eyes, her mind drifting away as she succumbed to sleep's gentle embrace, the night wrapping her in its quiet peace.
𓇢𓆸 𓆤 𖧧 𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𖧧 𓍊𓋼 𔓘
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