Love's Dark Legacy

|Azeilia

The scent of smoke filled Azeilia's small, dimly lit room, blending with the scent of incense that always burned on her cluttered desk. Posters of strange symbols, artists, and celestial bodies covered the peeling walls, giving her room a mystical, almost otherworldly feel. Her favorite bands played softly in the background, heavy with bass and haunting melodies, transporting her to a space where she could escape everything. Azeilia lay sprawled on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her mind drifting as the high took over, numbing the perpetual chaos that whirled inside her.

Her grandmother was downstairs, likely doing some chore or watching her TV. Azeilia and her grandmother had an unspoken agreement: they didn't talk about what Azeilia did up in her room, and her grandmother pretended not to notice. It had been like this ever since she moved in years ago after her father became too busy and dangerous to have her under his roof. He still visited, still called to check in, but he never asked questions.

Azeilia let out a long exhale, feeling the tension from her shoulders, closing her eyes as she let the music and smoke wrap around her like a cocoon. Her thoughts wandered to her mother. Always a distant presence, rarely ever there. The last time they'd spoken was an argument. Azeilia couldn't even remember what it was about, but it was loud and heated. Then silence. As always.

She took another drag and tried to push the thoughts away. Thinking about her mother never led anywhere good.

Suddenly, her phone buzzed on the bed beside her, and she squinted at the screen. It was James. She let it ring for a moment, debating whether to pick up. He rarely called, but when he did, he usually had something on his mind that he needed to vent about. She didn't mind listening to him; they had a mutual understanding—both a bit lost, both trying to figure things out in this messed-up world.

She hit answer and brought the phone to her ear. "What's up?" she asked, her voice lazy.

"Azeilia," James' deep voice came through the line. He sounded tired. "I just... I don't know what to do anymore."

Azeilia exhaled, already knowing where this was going. "This about Herculeana again?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line, then James sighed heavily. "Yeah, she's back."

"I heard," Azeilia said, her tone neutral. She didn't have the energy to offer any fake sympathy or judgment. James' feelings for Herculeana had been an ongoing saga that never seemed to have an end. And frankly, she didn't care much for the drama. But James? He had always been complicated, and sometimes, she had no choice but to be the ear he needed.

"It's just... It's different seeing her again," James said, his voice growing softer. "I thought I was over it, over her, but now, seeing her around... It's like everything comes rushing back."

Azeilia rolled her eyes but didn't interrupt. She could hear the weight in his voice, and though she didn't want to admit it, she felt a pang of understanding. Loving someone who wasn't good for you, she felt the same with Celia. Though that was not the case, the case was that Celia is the straightest person she knew, she couldn't risk their friendship. Someone you couldn't be with—it was something she knew all too well. "Look, James," she said finally, "you gotta let it go. Selena's moved on, and so should you."

James groaned on the other end. "You make it sound easy."

"It's not," Azeilia admitted, feeling a little more genuine. "But it's necessary."

There was a beat of silence before James finally spoke again. "Thanks, Azeilia. You're probably the only one who gets it."

"Whatever," she said with a shrug he couldn't see. She flicked the ash from her cigarette and brought it back to her lips. "Anything else?"

"No. I just needed to talk."

"Yeah, well, next time bring something more interesting. I'm running out of sympathy for your tragic love story."

James chuckled, the sound a little lighter now. "Alright, I'll try."

They exchanged a few more words before the conversation ended, and Azeilia tossed her phone aside. She stared at the ceiling again, the thoughts returning like a broken record. Herculeana, James, love—it all felt too exhausting to think about.

She sat up and reached for her stash only to find it empty. "Shit," she muttered under her breath. She'd smoked through the last of her weed without realizing it, and now the numbness was already starting to fade. Azeilia sighed and threw on her jacket, slipping her headphones over her ears before heading out.

Her father might have set her on this path, but it wasn't something he'd be proud of. He had done everything to keep his dealings with underground forces separate from his family life, but Azeilia was too observant, too clever. She'd pieced things together as a kid—back when her dad was still trying to play the role of a lawyer in the day and something far darker at night.

The city of Alvaynia buzzed with neon lights and the constant hum of technology. It was beautiful in its own strange way, but underneath that shine, there was a whole other world—a world Azeilia knew all too well. She made her way through the winding streets, keeping her head down, her hands in her pockets.

She knew where to go. Beneath the city, in the tunnels and hidden passageways, there were places most people didn't even know existed. Her father had unknowingly led her to them, and now she frequented these spaces more than she should. They were dangerous, crawling with people who wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of someone like her, but Azeilia wasn't afraid. She thrived in the shadows, in the spaces between where no one looked.

Slipping into a narrow alleyway, she approached a hidden entrance behind an old, rusted gate. She glanced around to make sure no one was watching before sliding the gate aside and ducking into the darkness below. The air grew cooler as she descended, the city's noise fading into a distant hum. This was her world now—the underground.

As Azeilia made her way deeper into the tunnels, she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of belonging. Up above, everything was too bright, too loud, too chaotic. Down here, in the dim light and cold air, she felt at home.

—-

Azeilia is def one of my fav characters. I had to give her a chapter of her own. So you'll get an idea of what she's like😊