The Underground

Chapter 4.3

Inside, the body was already removed from its position hanging from the ceiling. Now it lay ominously wrapped in the old tarp on the ground. Vivian stared at it for a moment, skin crawling with the sensation of being watched in her own home, before turning to the staircase that lead down to Melanie's study.

She wanted to shower and eat. Put on a fresh set of clothes and feel clean after a few days of filth, blood, and death. Instead, she dropped her bag on the wooden floor and crept down the stairs to face her mentor.

Each step downward sent a jolt of anxiety and discomfort through her. Her injuries were already in the process of healing curtesy of the witch's brew, but no amount of magic could help the fear coursing through her right then. The fear of distrust.

Vivian rounded the corner into the study, greeted by the soft candlelight Melanie was so fond of reading by. She stared at the small figure of the old woman in her old leather chair, every burning question that ached in her mind suddenly vanishing as she tried to figure out what to ask first.

"I would begin by asking 'What am I?'" Melanie advised, not granting her adopted daughter even a glance.

Vivian bit back her frustration, taking a deep breath to cool her nerves and anger alike. "I'd like to begin with, why did you lie?" she asked defiantly, folding her arms over her chest.

Melanie still didn't turn to look. "I didn't. I mislead you, but I didn't outright lie. Had you been paying proper attention and using your head, you likely would have realized."

"I asked why Kai wanted me at the bar and you said you didn't know," Vivian argued, retracing the memory in her head.

"No, I said I didn't ask. Which is true – I didn't ask who needed you at the bar, I simply assumed it would be Mr. Blackwood," the elderly woman corrected with a sigh. She took off her glasses and folded them before placing them neatly on her desk. With slow, aged movements, she turned her chair to face Vivian.

"So let's address the reason I mislead you and ask the proper question. What are you?" she continued, looking up at her daughter, apprentice, and legacy, "Vivian, you are a seer. You always had the potential to be one, but it can be hard to say for certain whether potential will come to fruition or not. Seers' abilities do not simply happen because we want them to, but because the individual has gone through significant stress, sorrow, and pain – and sometimes not even then."

Melanie paused to give Vivian room to speak, but the young woman was quiet. "You needed to feel afraid – going blind into this mission aided that. It's not by accident our line of work is so often wrought with fear and sadness. For many years I was worried I had been wrong, but I'm glad to see I wasn't. How did you find the grail?"

Vivian was silent a moment longer, mulling over her thoughts like a bad mouthful of food she didn't want to swallow. "I could smell it. It stank of rot and decay. Is that what being a seer is, smelling shit all the time?" she answered, frustration seeping into her voice by the end. Getting answers was satisfying, but not at the cost of realizing how often she was lied to for the express purpose of suffering.

Melanie's lips formed a thin smile. "Of course not, the seer's gift comes in many forms. I'm sure other aspects have affected you before, you just haven't realized they happened. Do you recall the black rabbit that lived in our yard?"

"Of course. I fed it every morning for years," Vivian answered, apprehension creeping over her.

"I never saw such a rabbit – But there was a little girl who lived here decades before us. She died rather tragically; in fact, her body is still on the property. It was her spirit you saw, in the form of that rabbit. Such is the connection seers have to the souls of people. The grail likely smelled like the rot of hundreds of thousands of souls, consumed by the artifact during the creation of vampires," Melanie explained and stood up from her chair, approaching the younger woman. She gently laid her hands on Vivian's shoulders, squeezing lightly in comfort.

"I'm sorry I've misled you for so many years, but it was essential in ensuring your gift came through properly," she murmured warmly, a proper smile now on her face, "And I'm thrilled to see you be so successful – the discovery of the Blackwood's grail is very valuable."

Vivian lingered an arms' length away from Melanie before eventually caving and sweeping the old woman into a hug. "What does this mean then? Are we going to keep looking for the artifacts used to convert humans?" she asked softly, burying her head into the robes of her second mom.

"Of course," Melanie answered sharply, her body stiffening underneath the hug, "We're finally capable of properly tracking them. We have decades of leads to explore. We must hone your gift through practice."

Tears welled in Vivian's eyes as she looked upwards, in the direction of the corpse she could feel lingering there. Its warning was carved into her mind just as it had been in the body's skin.

STOP LOOKING.

"Ok, Mel."