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━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━
╭ ╮ 1899 ╰ ╯
Aurora Salvatore sat alone. The day was dark, gloomy, and miserable. Perfectly representing the storm that resided within the witch. It has been exactly thirty-five years since the last time she saw her family. The last time she felt whole. The last time she was happy.
Every single year, a sliver of herself would wither away. It would crumble apart, being long forgotten. Rory was on the brink of depression. The point where it wasn't that she wanted to die per say, it was that she was beyond tired of living. The last tangible memory remaining of her brothers was that of them laying on the ground, covered with dirt and blood, certainly seconds from death. Her very soul was so broken, she could easily slip through the cracks, falling into a void of uncontrollable emotion at unwavering strengths. But that will never be a setback for Rory. Sure, there were a few times she wanted to give up, but in the end, she just wanted her brothers. She just wanted her family back.
There's a difference between physically being alone, and mentally feeling alone. Both were present in Rory's life. Even when she would come across others, she didn't even have it in herself to stay. And she had gotten to the point that she was used to the lonely feeling in her head. It was like a second nature.
Sitting alone in a clearly of thick woods would be one of her favorite things to do. The humming of the bugs, the soft whistling of the wind, mixing with the occasional pattering of cold rain, it became one of the things that she could enjoy enough to draw her mind to a blank.
Hymns and tales were told in her past of stories that lived through a jubial entity, drawing through an endless cascade of emotions, creating a lesson or a vow throwing villains to their hierarchy of needs. Rory was the one to stand aside, and let fate take over, simply watching through the eyes of another.
Her fingers fumbled with her own, as she looked up into the night. But the moment she heard the crack of a tree branch from behind her, Rory whipped around, catching sight of another. She didn't have much time of processing before she was abruptly pushed up against a tree, a hand around her neck, and her feet a few inched above the ground.
Her hands grasped at their wrist, when it took a few moments for her eyes to unfocus. And when they did so, it was a man standing in front of her. He had veins present under his eyes, almost like scars of a life long passed lived. Fangs were bared in his teeth, and out in a threatening manner.
He was a vampire.
Thinking as quick as possible before harm came, she released one of her hands that grasped at his wrist, and with a simple flick, he was flung multiple feet away, his back hitting a tree followed by a deafening crack. Whether it was from his own back, or of the tree, Rory didn't know.
