Whispered Kiss

The Effects of Anger

"I am afraid you cannot."

Arel Mordenheim said these words with command and intention. It didn't matter if the two people in the room were unable to hear his voice pitch or see the emotion in his face. Ave took a flabbergasted step backwards and he watched the scene unfold. Her entire posture turned dumbstruck by his presence. He couldn't be bothered by her reaction, no, those were things he got used to in his current form. Bladen Black warned him of the effect his actions could exert on Ave and he might have felt some form of guilt at first. Not anymore. After what he witnessed three days ago, the emotion extinguished. A flutter sprung to life in his heart. The promise he once made, echoed in his veins and the plan he set in motion after, began taking form.

She is the one.

Ave Vagameer, in her splendid glory was a sun kissed miracle Arel never anticipated would cross his path. After having known three Blood Witches and none capable enough of the tasks set out for them, Ave drew him instantly. Her blood was a tantalizing beacon that spoke of the power coursing through each cell.

"Bladen?" She asked with a squeak, and Arel's gaze fell on the man leaning against his desk. Arel could feel Bladen's displeasure at his presence. Arel was no fool. He did not need the blood bond between him and Bladen to speak of the man's attraction to the witch. Nevertheless, Arel could not allow unison between the two of them, not when his connection to Ave held such a strong bond. Once, he acquired what he needed of her, he would reconsider his views on their attraction. It sounded heartless, but attraction led to distraction which led to slower progress.

"Yes, Ave?" Bladen replied, his lips pulled into a thin line. Arel suspected Bladen did not anticipate his attendance or Ave's revelation to happen so soon. He sensed her mind awaken, and he wouldn't waste more time. Ave needed to understand, needed to see, needed to know about everything her destiny entailed. It always remained his soul responsibility, despite what he wanted out of everything.

"Do you see him?" Ave asked, a quivering finger pointed at Arel.

Bladen glared daggers at Arel, and he shrugged, amused. He enjoyed causing discomfort to Bladen. Even if he couldn't provide it in any other form of expressions, body language or words. The man could be quite studious and Arel enjoyed riling him. If he did not, the last two hundred and eighty years in the company of Bladen Black would be an absolute bore.

"Ave. Let me introduce you to Arel Mordenheim."

Ave's pointed finger dropped to her side, her shoulders hunching. "So, he's not just a figment of my imagination?" she asked, a strong sense of disheartenment lacing her tone.

"I'm afraid not." Bladen confirmed.

"But I met Arel Mordenheim, he wasn't- he was real." She stumbled over her words, her champagne eyebrows scrunching together.

Arel said naught, awaiting Bladen's answer. Bladen garnered the aid of one Ezekiel Adams to pose as Arel. He knew Bladen wanted to spite him, and he would never tell Bladen but the man did manage to rile his blood when he got Ezekiel to share his name. However, as time moved forward, the decision turned from foolish to not-bad. Ezekiel could uphold Bladen's affairs, keep his jaw shut tight and could understand the workings of a business. The man could also handle his presence and knew of it, thus, Arel could sit in on the interview with Ave. The fact that the open-position spread by word of mouth was a fluke. Ezekiel improvised the best he could. The plan would never allow for another to be appointed.

Bladen explained the phenomenon to Ave but she shook her head, turning her gaze toward Bladen. She still rather sought answers from Bladen than Arel.

"And when we met? For a fraction of a second, I saw another man's features in your face, Bladen. Dianna herself said she saw something similar."

At this, both Arel and Bladen frowned. Bladen opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head, and then reopened his mouth, but the connection eluded him. Arel however, cursed inward. He never thought it possible to miss details he trained himself to notice. Perhaps he grew weary and forgetful. Or his adaption to the mortal world caught him unaware. In previous visits to the mortal world, Arel was uninterested in the musings of mortals, and exited the in-between only when needed, the rest of the time he drifted in the darkness and sought spirits he could guide into the hereafter. He didn't consider the brief third-eye some mortals could possess. Nor did he ever think that his curse could be weaker in the mortal world, with blimps where it could be viewed. The connection between him and Bladen could also be to blame, interfering in the curse. Could this revelation mean the curse dwindled or could it be a fluke in the spell which cursed him? He held vast knowledge in his time, but some things were as unclear to him as any other.