ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ

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Hierarchy. The idea of ranking a person, thing, or in this case – a monster, over one another. Sophia despised hierarchy, and she despised being at the top of the chain. Perched up above the other Lords, sitting at Mother Miranda's right hand. Though most times, the title Lady of the Lycans felt useless, because she had no real control of anything. Orders were given to her, and she was expected to follow them with no questions asked. Nor would she dare to order any of the others unless she was seeking punishment.

Sophia was merely a pawn in one long game of chess. They all were. One day, Mother Miranda would no longer need them. She would exhaust them and never look back. Sophia was certain of this, and she feared that the time may be approaching.

Last-minute gatherings were another thing on Sophia's long list of annoyances. Normally, they consisted of non-stop bickering between the other Lords desperately looking for Mother Miranda's attention and praise. They graveled at her feet. They kiss the floor she walks upon, and they never question her motives. They worshipped her.

They can't see through her empty promises and false words the way that Sophia can. Had they opened their eyes and realized what Miranda's intentions have been since the beginning, they wouldn't seek her approval the way they do now. Frankly, whether they do or they don't, Sophia doesn't care either way.

Power had gone to all their heads. The power that Miranda had bestowed upon all of them. The village prayed to Mother Miranda and to her five Lords. The villagers would ask for warmth during the winter, crops during the spring, and good health during sickness. Innocent people were brainwashed into believing that Mother Miranda and her Lords had good intentions for them. They would protect them and save them when it truly mattered. Their prayers would get them nothing but death.

It was The Mold. It was the root of their power and the root of Miranda's existence. It was the root of the evil that plagued this land. The Black God is what they called it. An unnatural source that infects their bodies and makes them what they are. It affects them all differently, granting them each a specific ability and besides Mother Miranda, Sophia was the strongest of them all.

She had the power of sight through another's eyes. The ability to transport herself into the body of another without them ever knowing. She can see, hear, feel, and smell everything that they can. All she needs to do is see a picture of them and their faces are permanently engrained into her mind. Sophia Finch will never forget a face for as long as she lives. She remembers all of them, even those that had died decades ago. She remembers their names, the names of their parents, and the names of their children. She knew their favorite food and their hobbies.

In her past life, almost a century ago, her family served under one of the high lords. Her father was the right hand, her mother was the head maid, her two brothers were guards, and Sophia was taught to remember.

Her beauty made her important. She once had long full brown hair that would be styled beautifully and doe eyes that could melt a stone-cold heart. She held herself with dignity and grace. She was taught political power at a young age, and it became her most valuable asset. She often travelled with her father and the high lord simply to remember. She gained information, good and bad then she would relay it to her lord. He would take advantage of that, and he would use it. He would use it well.

Mother Miranda used her for the same. Sophia were her eyes and ears. She watched over the village. She kept tabs on the villagers because her life depended on it. And when Mother Miranda commanded it, Sophia would take one of her Lycans to the village and snatch away one of those innocent people. That was her job – her role, and although she hated it, Sophia always did her job well.

Three precise knocks sounded at the door of Sophia's small shack on the hill causing her eyes to flicker out of their dazed state returning them to her normal shade of crimson. It was rare that Mother Miranda showed up to her place of rest – that told Sophia it was urgent.

She raised herself from her bed and walked to the door. She pushed it open to reveal Mother Miranda standing on the opposite side. Crow feathers protruding out from her cloak that flowed out behind her. Sophia bowed her head as her words fell from her lips, "Mother Miranda."

"You are required, Sophia," she said.

Without delay, Sophia replied, "Of course."

She removed her white cloak from its hook by the door and threw it over her shoulders, clasping the broach. She followed Miranda through the snow and down the hill, taking careful steps so she did not trip. They descended into the tunnels that ran underneath the village to Mother Miranda's chamber. A cave that she turned into a shrine for her darling Eva. No other Lord beside Sophia was allowed access to this room. There was a table and chair in the center of the room – that's where Sophia sat.

"I need you to find this woman." Mother Miranda passed Sophia a photograph that she studied heavily. She was a beautiful woman, young and happy.

Sophia pulled out the wooden chair and folded her dress underneath her as she sat down. She placed the photograph flat on the table in front of her and memorized it. Every detail of her face down to the tiniest freckle then closed her eyes making her world pitch black. She pictured the nameless woman, the curves of her cheeks, the shapes of her eyes, and her own eyes snapped open glowing red. But when she looks forward, she does not see candlelight bouncing off the cave walls. Instead, she sees sunlight pouring through a window in the reflection of a mirror. She sees the woman delicately brushing her hair and hears her humming softly to herself.

"I found her," Sophia announced.

Miranda's words came through to her like echo's as she asked, "Where is she?"

"She's in a bedroom," Sophia muttered softly.

Mother Miranda's voice grew firm – impatient, "Is she alone?"

Sophia does her best take in the new surroundings, but her sight is limited only to what her host is looking at. Mother Miranda has never been understanding of that. Sophia feels a lump form in her throat as she answers, "I'm not sure."

The woman nearly growls at her, "I do not have all day, Sophia. Is there a baby?"

Now the woman looked downward toward her shoulder, and Sophia could see nothing of the sort. She was holding back her words until the very last second and thank goodness she did. Just as she parted her lips to speak, a baby's cry reached her ears.

"Yes, there's a baby. I can hear them."

Miranda sighed as if a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. "The rumors are true..."

Sophia relaxed, her vision returning to normal. She turned to the older woman with curiosity, "What rumors?"

Miranda had her head down, and her fingers tapped along her jaw in contemplation. She didn't acknowledge Sophia's question. Instead, she lifted her head, turned on her heels and began to walk away as her voice bounced off the cavern walls, "Gather the others. We have important matters to discuss."

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