Not a light was on up or down the street. This hill had changed over the past thousand or so years. It had once been a dense forest, green and brimming with carnivorous beasts. She smirked at the memory, but it quickly faded. This location was now a neighborhood—and a mediocre one at best: Normal insolent people, living their lives like sheep. Although, she supposed that would work in her favor soon enough.

She was unseen as she walked into the backyard of one of the small homes, and ducked into the tree line of what was left of the forest—just a few trees so the homeowners would think they were still in touch with nature. She walked a quarter of a mile into the brush, until she finally reached the spot she was looking for.

She instantly felt a jolt, like she had somehow left her body—or, that is, the body of whomever she was riding at the time.

Yes. This was it. This was the spot in which she died; where her body was forgotten, left to decay and be picked apart by animals and turn to ash—all centuries before anyone in those comfortable little homes were existent or their occupants born.

She breathed in the air and the scent of the bark, having to admit that she was glad to be topside again. It had been a long while by the years of this earth, but it had been even longer in the Pit. She was determined to never go back there, and she would reclaim what was hers, starting with her true form.

She reached into her pack and placed six black candles in a circle around the tree that grew from the fertilizer of her bones. She snapped, and the candles lit themselves. Next, she placed her hand on the center of the trunk and, when she removed her palm, a sigil had been burnt into it: looking like a sideways S with two vertical lines running parallel in the middle. She then took out a knife and pressed a smooth line into her wrist, watching the crimson ooze out. She let a few drops trickle onto the dirt next to the tree.

As soon as the first drop hit the ground, the dirt inside the circle of candles began to glow gold. There was a surge, and the electricity flickered on in all the cottages of the neighborhood behind her. Her eyes faded to black as she began to chant, and the light grew more intensely, until it lit up the space around her.

Then it faded, and the light of the candles blew out on their own accord.

Again, she reached into her bag and pulled out a compact mirror, taking in a steadying breath of anticipation before turning it around on her face and taking in the sight. In place of the blonde hair of her vessel were her messy raven colored locks. Her icy blue eyes stared back at her. She let out a short, breathless laugh of excitement, relishing the warmth of the breeze on her skin.

Her eyes caught the light of the full moon, its broken reflection shimmering on the lake in the distance beyond the trees.

"Hello, dear brother," Morgana hissed. "You didn't think this was over, did you?"

The End.

Read The Slow Path: An Interlude and Part III: The Rise and Fall.

1. Into the Wild – LP
2. Us – Regina Spektor
3. Holocene – Bon Iver
4. Cosmic Love – Florence + the Machine
5. So He Won't Break – The Black Keys
6. Lonely Soul – Unkle
7. We Must Be Killers – Mikky Ekko
8. I Am the Highway – Audioslave
9. Death and All His Friends – Coldplay
10. Kids on the Run – The Tallest Man on Earth