Winter 2028

Within the back hills and forests that surrounded Viper Manor, the sounds of children playing could be heard from afar, cadencing through the wilderness. Like the rings that adorned the trees deep within that stood for how long it bore life, so too did their laughter permeate through the woods as though to serve as a testament to the fact that even in the darkest of times, there could still be happiness. Like a flicker of a flame within a dark, sealed cave, so too could happiness still stand and be seen and felt by all. It was this lesson that the witch whose emerald orbs studied the children closely, with longing, had learned hard and well after nearly a year of self-imposed misery and pain to herself and all those around her.

She had caused so much damage, so much anger, and so much pain...

From distancing herself from all her loved ones to having an affair with a former lover and then to even trying to hill herself, Viper wondered if she had any right to even think of returning to her family, much less of them welcoming her back with forgiveness and open arms. In all honesty, it hadn't been her idea to return to make amends. Yes, she wanted to return to her family more than anything, but felt she no longer belonged among them, especially after walking out on them. It was only because of her therapist's gentle, yet probing guidance that lead her to where she now stood.

Oh, how she trembled as she stood, though...

Fear coursed through her body like a maelstrom seeking revenge against it's foes. Nothing she could do would calm the quivering of the storm of terror within herself. She had wanted to return to her family for so long, dreamt of playing with her children once more, and longed to lay within her husband's loving embrace as they drifted off in slumber. But now that the opportunity to return was before her, all she could think about, all that she could imagine was them turning her away, refusing to see her.

Was it too late for her to return to her solid ground? Or was she merely wasting time?

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained..." she whispered to herself, over and over again, attempting the relaxation exercise she had learned at the Care Center she had spent the last several weeks in. "Nothing to lose, everything to gain..." 

Within her, a great battle began between her heart and body: Her body wanted to flee, wanted to fly so far away beyond all that she feared and seek refuge elsewhere, but her heart yearned above all else to return to all those it loved, especially to he who held it in within the palm of his hand...

Everything you long for May come forth as reality...

Dare I?

May I?

....Her heart won, and she stepped closer to the Manor, still moving with trepidation. 

Laughter from child and adult alike rang throughout the grounds of Viper Manor. For one of the families residing within the estate, it had been quite some time since laughter of this sort had been heard from them. It was true mirth. In times previous Sevastyan kept to the occasional quiet chuckle. Despite being genuinely amused at some of the antics of his children the wizard had not been able to find it in himself to truly laugh without a care in the world. Now, for a little while at least, it was entirely different.

The entire family, minus the one that had flown away, were all outdoors despite the frigid chill of the day. Each individual was bundled up warmly, with Stefan Althaus the possible exception. The reason for this was the snow was good for packing, and therefore prime snowball-making snow. The snowball fight going on in what could be considered the back yard of the estate consisted of Stefan, Demyan, Lara, Dracovan (Sevastyan’s brother-in-law), and little four-year-old Piper. Sevastyan wasn’t sure where ‘Draco’, Dracovan’s son, had gotten to. There were too many for him to keep track of. But Sveta didn’t seem worried, so he did not concern himself too much as of yet. The Russian wizard did not join in the snowy play despite the shouts for him to participate. Although he used the excuse of keeping Lynn company and making sure she didn’t catch cold, Sevastyan’s heart just wasn’t into much of anything. He would watch, but not play. Considering how much he loved the snow a casual observer of the scene with no knowledge of recent happenings would find this very odd of him.

Svetlana Kaminski sat at her brother’s side, holding Stefan’s daughter while the wizard helped entertain the children. She watched the goings on with a smile on her face. The witch’s hand rested upon her abdomen, which had begun to swell with her and Dracovan’s third child. Occasionally she would feel a certain stormy-gray eye on her, however whenever she looked to her brother Sevastyan made certain to turn the other way. “Vas, vot is it?” she asked gently, able to feel a sort of restlessness within her sibling.

True to form Lydia had in her grasp a clown doll. “Lynnie play?” the girl asked, holding her hands out as if to initiate a clapping game.

“Nothing...” Sevastyan shook his head at his sister’s question and went through the motion of smoothing down Lynn’s hair. Because the child in his arms wore a head covering, leaving no hair out in the open to smooth down, the action proved futile and more along the line of a nervous habit. Sveta sighed as her brother suddenly felt the urge to pull out a hip flask he carried at all times these days. How the witch wished her brother would stop drinking so frequently...

”I know something is bothering you. Please. Tell me what it is...” Sveta asked him in their mother tongue.

”It is nothing. Now please, let’s just watch this in peace!” Sevastyan retorted in kind, his tone irritated. He hoped it wasn’t to the point of upsetting Lynn. Before returning his gaze to the snowball fight the wizard glanced to his sister’s abdomen for the briefest of moments. A chuckle left his lips as Demyan nailed Stefan in the back with a rather large ball of snow. “Great vork, Demyan!” he called, trying to inflect as much joy as possible into the words.

Demyan acted as though he hadn’t heard. Stefan, on the contrary, heard and gave the other wizard a scowl and a very rude hand gesture.

Sveta sat in silence for several moments. She wasn’t exactly surprised by the snap she had received from her brother. The look Sevastyan had set upon the unborn child within her chilled the witch to the bone. What had he to be angry or jealous over? The wizard had three beautiful children, and Sveta herself had two with a third on the way. What was so wrong with that? The Russian witch feared asking her brother, but at the same time not knowing what it was that caused such a reaction was driving her mad. ”Why are you angry with me?” Sveta murmured.

”I’m not angry!” Sevastyan snapped.

“Vell, you certainly sound that vay,” replied Sveta. With her free hand she wiped away a tear she hadn’t meant to shed.

“I... I am sorry,” Sevastyan muttered. “I just have a lot on my mind.” He wondered if Sveta were to lose the baby, would she blame her husband for it? And if not what if, hypothetically speaking, she had been taking potions due to an illness that were harmful to a fetus. Would she blame him then? Was it logical even to blame the man responsible for his part in creating the child? Sevastyan assumed if anything, like Amaranth, Sveta would blame herself instead. Seeing his sister pregnant brought back all of these hurtful questions he’d asked himself over and over again, and more. Although it hadn’t necessarily been said, Sevastyan felt as though Amaranth charged him responsible for the death of what would have been their fourth child as their argument heated to the temperature of molten lava. Lowering his eyes to the little child upon his lap, Sevastyan caressed Lynn’s back and pressed a kiss to her forehead despite ending up partially kissing cloth.


Meanwhile, the snowball fight continued on. One would almost think that it was children versus adults, but that was not entirely the case. It wasn’t even boys versus girls. Instead, it was a massive free-for-all as Stefan targeted both Dracovan and Demyan, and Demyan tossed snow at Stefan, his Uncle Dracovan, and Lara. Piper went after everyone except her Daddy, though her snowball-making method was to toss handfuls of barely-molded snow in the general direction of her target.

Both Demyan and Stefan hastily crafted snowballs with the intent to gang up on one of their soon-to-be ‘victims’, but hesitated at the sight of someone approaching them and subsequently the Manor. And not just any ‘someone’... but a someone with a suspiciously familiar female form. Amaranth Viper? Demyan immediately dropped the snowball he’d been forming and ran towards the form of his mother at top speed. “Demyan, wait!” Stefan called, tossing his similarly poorly-fashioned snowball at Dracovan before trotting after the kid. For all the wizard knew, they could be impersonating Viper. He had no idea she intended to return home today. To Stefan’s irritation Demyan gave absolutely no pause.


Sveta’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion when she noticed Demyan take off. What had happened? Everything seemed normal and he did not appear hurt. It was only when she looked a ways ahead of his intended path that she saw clearly. “Vas...” she murmured, patting her brother urgently on the shoulder. The heart within her chest pounded. She wasn’t sure for what reason Amaranth returned, but hoped it was good. The witch dreaded to think of what a negative meeting would do to her poor brother’s already fragile state.

“I see, Sveta...” Sevastyan muttered in reply. A chill that had nothing to do with the crisp winter air washed over him, cold yet warm at the same time. Gray orbs gazed at the approaching form warily. What was he supposed to do? What does one do when the love of one’s life walks out on them, and then returns after several months without contact? Was he supposed to go greet her, or let her come to him? His anger for some time now had somewhat vanished, if one didn’t count the exceedingly simple measures it took to irritate him. All he had left lately was agony and despair. And vodka, of course, though he had slowed down on his alcohol consumption rate considerably.

“Vell?” asked Sveta, giving Sevastyan a semi-playful push on the shoulder. “Go see her!”

Sevastyan glanced over at his sister. “Vot about you?”

“Vot do you mean ‘vot about me’? She is your vife. I vill get my ‘hello’ in after you two have a moment,” Svetlana chastised him lightly. “Go on...” the witch urged, doing her best to hold onto Lydia and push Sevastyan off the lawn bench without overdoing things.

Awkward, wary, and yet longing to see her, Sevastyan tread through the snow toward Viper. His pace was slower than Demyan’s and Stefan’s, though with each step his heart pounded faster. Fear at the unknown purpose and outcome of this meeting gripped him in its claws of shadow. At any moment, he knew, those ‘claws’ could release him and the ground he stood on, causing him to fall once more into the bottomless abyss. There was nothing to lose in approaching the witch, having lost her completely it seemed on a faraway summer morning. But was there anything to gain?