When Ara stirred awake, she took a moment to realise she was tied up.

The second thought was that her mind was alert, but her movements were sluggish in comparison as she was placed in her decorated seatee of the Whispering Chamber, the throne covered in red silks and incense burned away on the little brass table perched at the side, the smell of lavender and something else intoxicating, stinging her nose. More candles were lined up near the altar, crackling with dim flames, a cacophony of scents that Ara highly suspected had aromatherapeutic qualities.

She didn't recall joining a pagan cult.

The second thing she noticed was the ghostly voices had subsided, none were provoking her anymore; either that or the incense and candle wax was working its magic. 

"Tsk-tsk-tsk, such a mess you made of yourself," someone from behind her seatee careened, Ara jolted and bit back a scream, as the Mother Edith emerged from the shadows; Her bony fingers took a strand of Ara's hair and caressed it gently with a comb. "Too jumpy, easily shaken..."

Ara stared down at the white cloth that bound her wrists, it wasn't uncomfortable but she wasn't fond of the fact that she was trapped. "What is this about?" she gestured at her bonds. "Release me."

Edith continued to brush her hair, the edges of the comb raking her scalp. "I would, witchling, but that's far too dangerous. We don't want you acting up again, we need your powers at bay...for now," she said. "You caused quite a scene. That is why the Corpsewitch is safe here, we know what to do when things...get out of hand,"

How long she had been out? Ara remembered vaguely of the howling calls and shrieks from the spirits, but she didn't expect the entire haunting to last that long. That could have explained why they had to tie her down, still...

"So you drugged me?" she eyed the burning incense.

"It was to calm you down,"

"Well I'm not causing any scenes now, so release me," she repeated her order.

"Hmm, I don't think you can guarantee that when our...client meets you in a bit. She wants you prepped and ready for the ritual soon, she's as desperate as a starving cat as we speak," she whispered at the last bit, slipping a bit of a laughter at the end. 

Ara narrowed her eyes, "Why would Serafia meet me now?"

Edith grinned as she tucked a strand of Ara's hair behind her ear, "She thinks she can trust you, thinks you're not one of us. I know you are one of us, witchling. She doesn't know our customs, believes in no such coven bond. You belong to us, and you know that,"

Ara shivered at that remark, "I belong to no one, I chose this myself,"

Edith cackled, "Have it your way, then. You've returned to us, that means you are part of the Witch Elm, body and soul," incoming footsteps could be heard outside the chamber. "Best not to keep her waiting," and Ara didn't even realise the cloth that bound her had been sliced apart, breaking her free until she caught a glimpse of the blade in Edith's hand, the Witch Mother tucked it into her sleeve as she went to open the door.

It swung open and in walked Serafia, her face still as stone not even sparing a glance at Edith as she came in, earning sneers from the Witch Mother as she exited the room. Now Ara was left all alone with her and the moment the door swung closed, Ara stood up, albeit wobbly. She hoped the numbness in her legs from sitting so long was hidden under her skirts. "To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you again?" she asked.

Serafia looked right back at her, maybe a bit too intensely that Ara thought she wanted to murder her with that gaze. "I came to seal our bargain,"

Ara raised an eyebrow and said nothing, gesturing for her to continue. From her bag, Serafia produced a file and offered it to Ara. She was half-expecting her to pull back and stab her, but this was the most mundane scenario she had been in. Once the file was in her hand, she could feel the outline of a pen slipped between the pages. "The assets, all the money I have, it's yours,"

Ara didn't want to look stunned, so her eyes darted across the pages of the file: Adamas, that was enough to connect the dots. It wasn't like Serafia to give this all away freely, there had to be more to this. "What's the catch?" she asked after a long pause. "You could've given this to the Witch Mother,"

Serafia swallowed, "I don't trust barrel witches,"

This time Ara did laugh, "And yet you trust me? Might I remind you, you tried to kill me and my brother,"

"I didn't know who you were," she said. "I still don't, I don't believe for a second you belong here. But I know what you are, I've seen what you can do," she continued. "And you will do what I say,"

There were still several problems at hand, Ara wasn't planning on killing Yunho either way, and she hadn't thought of how was she going to do that. The image of Yunho still trapped in the dungeons of the coven filled her heart with discomfort, and at that moment she could feel the energy of the unseen spirits acting up again, waiting to pounce. She couldn't afford to lose control now. 

"What do you need the boy dead? What could you possibly gain from that?"

"An exchange for another soul," Serafia said as her pupils shook. "I am a product of a witch and a fae, and yet with all the power I have, I cannot accomplish one thing. I cannot reclaim dead souls like a Corpsewitch could. Like you," 

The two stood their ground, eyes unwavering from each other. "Who is it that you so desperately need back from the dead?" Ara demanded. 

Serafia froze, "That is none of your concern-"

"It is if you want me to comply, I need a tether to this person. I don't know who they are, you're not giving me the bare minimum of a sign, and you expect me to perform the ritual?" When in fact, she had a feeling she knew who this person was. Still, she wanted to know just as badly. "Or is it something you are ashamed of?"

"No! I am not ashamed!" Serafia snapped, her expression furious. Once she cooled down, she held out her hand, offering it to Ara. "Why tell when I can show you?"

Doubtfully, Ara took her hand and Serafia gripped it so hard she stiffled a yelp. But there was no mistaking the feel of strings pulling at Ara, and most of all her vision of reality. She gasped as the world around her dissolved into nothing and the next second she blinked, she was no longer there in the present.

"I find humans rather interesting," Jocelyn said dreamily as she watched the mundane family sing and dance around the lake of the forest while they were on a picnic. It was one of those lazy days, where there was nothing to do and Jocelyn had decided to elope from the palace grounds of Seelie in order to meet at the edge of Faerie. She had sent Serafia a message to come meet her the day before. 

So here they were, sitting atop a yew tree branch as the human family of seven continued their little gathering on a bright spring day.

Serafia could only roll her eyes at that statement, "That's a ridiculous sentiment to make, Jocelyn. They wither and die quicker, are feeble-minded and some are even stupid enough to bargain with the fae. Humans are foolish beings," she remarked as she twirled a tendril of Jocelyn's hair with her finger, it smelled of blossoms and warm spices and all things sweet. "How on earth do you find that interesting?"

Jocelyn, as always, didn't seem to be fazed by her sharp remarks. "There's a haunting beauty within that, don't you think? With the little time they have, and yet they waste none of it not loving, and wringing things from creation. Some humans even make music, like the family down there, they sing and dance like we do at the revels,"

"If they joined our revels, they'd go mad," Serafia reminded her.

"Well yes, but still, their music is different from ours and I quite like it," she continued. "And they write ballads, and some of the most wondrous poetry," and she raised her hand to Serafia's face, it sent warmth down her spine. "Have I told you about the one about a doomed love between lovers from opposing sides? Romeo and-"

"-Juliet," Serafia answered. "Yes, you have. And you also told me how didn't quite like the ending."

Jocelyn hummed, "Only because I do not wish to see our story end like that," she said quietly.

In response, Serafia held her hand tightly. "That will not be us, my Jocelyn. We are not foolish humans, it will not end in tragedy," she knew Jocelyn had always been worried, that their relationship would be exposed. Which was why she enjoyed the human world so dearly, sweet, sweet Jocelyn with a heart of so much to give. Laying eyes upon her that fateful night at one of the revels had sealed Serafia's fate, her heart was no longer her own to possess. "Unlike humans with very limited time, we have all the time we need to spend,"

Jocelyn fiddled with a flower petal she had randomly picked up. "They even make death sound enchanting, the beauty of the sentiment that nothing lasts forever. 'Any moment might be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we are doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.'. The Iliad, by a human called Homer," she quoted word for word. 

Serafia couldn't help but admit the quote was indeed, hauntingly beautiful. "Tell me more about these humans and their poetry, perhaps one with a good ending,"

Jocelyn thought about it for a moment, "Humans have a penchant for the morbid, but I recently discovered a human poet by the name Edgar Allan Poe who wrote this beautiful poem about his lost lover," 

"Read it to me then," and quickly, she planted a kiss on Jocelyn's forehead. The latter chuckled, and it was music to Serafia's ears. "I adore it when you read to me,"

And so she listened as the other faerie recited the poem, about the damned fate of the human poet's lover, of winged seraphs and heaven, of a kingdom by the sea.

About a love that was more than love.

When Serafia's grip loosened, Ara fought hard from stumbling after the vision ended. 

Her heart was thumping and she only moments to process her thoughts. This wasn't the core memory she had expected Serafia to show her, not this level of rawness and intimacy she had for someone. The longing was almost...painful even to her. And deep inside she understood it all too well. 

But Jocelyn wasn't Yunho. Jocelyn had died, and had moved on long ago.

Serafia couldn't look at her, after showing that much vulnerability. "Now do you understand? I have shown you what you wanted,"

"This...person must be someone you love dearly," Ara answered. "But you should know there's an order to the world, Serafia, the laws of heaven and hell existed well before you or me, or even the angels and demons did. Bringing someone back to the living in one piece is impossible," she rattled off from the scriptures Edith had taught her the past few weeks. 

"You are the CORPSEWITCH!" Serafia's voice trembled. "That is your gift, and you will use it."

"I have my limitations, the person I bring back will not be the same person you once loved. And even if I do, there will be consequences-"

"I don't care about the consequences! I just want what I deserve back," 

"Then you're being selfish, she's moved on-"

"HOW WOULD YOU KNOW?" Serafia cried back, filled with rage. "You don't know her, and I gave my end of the bargain already so your job now is to do as I say."

This time Ara did shut up, for there was no mistaking the maniacal glint in Serafia's eyes. 

This was someone driven mad by grief and denial.