As Remiel exited the ball to claim his horse, he would encounter another. A dark figure would be walking up from where the horses and carriages were located, on a course to intercept. The figure was walking alone, though that was not how she’d arrived. Solitude gave her stealth, and at present, Honora wanted to go unnoticed. So she’d waited until there was a lull before making her way to enter the ball, the hood of her cloak pulled low over her face.

What Honora didn’t anticipate was who she would see on the way. Her footsteps would slow as Remiel approached, though he was still about twenty feet away.

“Remiel.” Her voice would not be from her tongue but pushed into his mind as the whisper of a voice he would recognize, seemingly without a source.

Remiel froze, he'd heard the voice in his head but his still his reaction was to still look around. He remained quiet yet still he looked the new down side was he only had the one good eye which made night time harder to see.

"Honora," he whispered, unsure of why.

Honora continued forward, drifting, as if in a dream. When she reached Remiel, provided he did not stop the unknown figure, she’d reach him and bring the hood of her cloak back just far enough that her face could be seen, though still mostly in shadow. Other than that, she said nothing. Her expression was vacant, her gaze hollow. She just…observed him. Without feeling.

Remiel didn't stop this sudden figure from approaching and just enough of the hood was pulled back to show him it was Honora or maybe...he took a few steps back and then another. In truth he was afraid of Honora after their last time she had changed and not for the better, she never had issue with using her Gift against him. That was dangerous.

Still, she was his sister. So he took another step back.

"Wh-," he almost started but he stopped, "Late to be out on a stroll, where are you going?"

That small ember of life that had been sustaining her flared with new intensity. Honora’s eyes narrowed. She’d been missing. Missing for weeks, and during that time had been tormented and humiliated in ways she never thought she’d know. She’d nearly died, and had Hiram not come upon her she would have. And yet Remiel seemed to respond flippantly. Whatever Remiel had said before, whatever fights they’d had, it was the words he had just uttered that hurt the most.

“That’s all you have to say?” She intended to keep her voice level, but the hurt sharpened each syllable as she recoiled from its sting.

"Well you aren't missing, you look fine enough to be out strolling in the night," he felt his own anger rising of course he was in the wrong, "We had people out looking for you Honora and you were gone...I had said things at the farm I shouldn't have and guess what it was guilt, but then I was collared and thrown in the dungeons," he felt defensive because he had looked for her but he thought she didn't want to be found at points, who would after they were told to never come back?

"The whole time I wondered if they were still looking or if they'd just brushed it off that we were two siblings who had a fight and you were...gone." What else did she want him to say?

Honora was silent for a moment—stunned, which would be clear enough on her features as she stared at him with a partially open mouth and wide eyes. He started with a barb, an assertion that since she looked fine she must be fine. There was no inquiry to follow, no asking where she’d been. Instead, there were excuses—that’s all she heard. If she were giving Remiel the benefit of the doubt she would agree it was a dance of guilt, as he claimed. She wanted to believe he was tying himself in knots to defend having neglected his base responsibility as her brother. But in any case, he’d still failed. Honora had few certainties left in this world, but she knew this: If Remiel had gone missing, if she’d thought that there was even the slightest chance he was in danger, Honora would not have rested. She would have worn her feet to the bone searching for him.

Honora could feel his anger coming off of him in pulsing waves. Not relief, not affection: anger. She didn’t think there were any pieces of her heart left to break, but in that moment she felt one snap.

“I am sorry to hear of hardship,” Honora said slowly, controlling each word, trying to contain the trembling hurt and anger that had tied themselves together on her tongue, “As you say, I look fine enough, so I will not burden you with mine.” Honora dropped the hood around her face. There, Remiel would see a silver collar glinting around her neck, unlike the ones provided by Lorendale but a collar all the same. She'd then try to continue on her walk to the manor.

Honora would find her path blocked by quick growing trees and they would grow all around them effortlessly boxing them in. Neither of them were going to just walk away from all of this this time.

"I've seen that style of collar before," he didn't move close to Honora still keeping a safe distance from her, "When I killed Duke Alaric he had a collar like that on him, did the Sons put that on you?"

Honora saw the trees start to sprout in front of her. Whipping around, she flew into Remiel’s mind in a panic. His whole world would go black an he’d fall to the ground with the sprouts unable to reach their intended width and height. Honora would stand above Remiel, eyes fogged with white.

“I thought you said we shouldn't use our gifts on one another, brother, but if you insist...” Honora’s voice would be a whisper in the blackness which would prickle in Remiel like a dull ache. “You want to know where I’ve been?”

Her memories would toss him about in a quick barrage. Honora started with the rain. With the cracking lighting and the mud as Anslem stood over her and clicked the collar around her neck. The pain of her broken ribs as she was dragged into the cellar and tossed down the stairs. The crawling whisper of Anslem’s voice against her skin as he ripped off her hair with chunks of her scalp pulling free.

“Now, now, you should have told me you caught something for us to play with, old friend.”

The shock as Anslem skinned her leg. The rattle of the hot poker as it was pulled from the fireplace, the white-hot metal as it was pressed against her skin. The unmistakable smell of burning flesh. And then—

"Work it out of your system friend and then we'll take a break for something to drink."

The clink of Quinton’s belt as it came undone. The endless variety of unthinkable acts Quinton wrought upon her as her body and mind turned itself inside out. The taste of bile in her mouth.

“I would say she even enjoyed herself a little.”

Things picked up from there, each memory more vague and harder to decipher. Anselm kissing her cheek, Zahaela’s cackle, their blades skinning her, drawing up her thigh, the pain, the pain—

Then freedom.

The battle, the swing of the hot poker. The retrieval of Anslem’s severed finger and the finding of the ring. Fresh air filled her lungs as she stumbled through the woods. Time slipped, until they’d come to the banks of the river.

“I’ll heal you…but it will cost you.”

Hiram’s lips against hers as suffocating blood flowed into her body, giving her new life. A woman reborn. It was then that Honora would tear herself away. Remiel would be weak. Disoriented, not able to rise but able to speak.

“He’s mine,” Honora said softly, “If you try to stop me, I will kill you. You try to take me, Hiram will kill you himself.”

He still had his Gift and Oriana had Hiram had put Remiel through much worse, vines would climb from the ground to lift their manipulator to his feet, steadying him yet not letting go.

"I should have...figured," he sounded weak and tired, but he chuckled, "If Myla was here...and Elena...Hiram would be sure to follow," as much as his sister wanted to believe he was weak then she knew nothing about Remiel at all. Hiram had broke that and Oriana had solidified it, "I won't stop you...what they did...unforgivable...but I won't stop you."

Finally the vines sunk back into the ground as Remi stumbled to his horse reaching for the saddle and the creature to lean.

"Take my memories...of you...," he asked through gritted teeth, "Erase them do whatever..." he turned his head toward her, "Do the same of me in your mind."

Honora didn’t know what she expected. Perhaps anger, sadness, apology…what had she been looking for? She tried to cipher through it all as Remiel’s vine bore him gracefully to his feet. Whatever anger she’d felt before vanished as she watched Remiel lean against the horse to stand. Instead, a well of fathomless sorrow opened up inside of her. She wanted to plead. To beg for him to take it back. The words twisted around her until she felt she was being strangled by them. But then, as Remiel’s face turned to hers…a calm came over her. A realization. That too much had changed. That between them was a river too swift and deep for either of them to ford. Luna was dead. Bryce gone. And to wipe herself from his mind…perhaps it was a small mercy. Tears started to slip down Honora’s cheeks.

For a moment, she was still. Then, unless Remiel stopped her, she’d nod slowly and close the distance between them. Reaching her hand out, Honora gently caressed his cheek, tears in her eyes.

“It’s easier…if you don’t fight…” Honora said quietly through tears. She put one hand against this cheek, looking at him with love and regret all crashing together in her eyes. Unless she stopped him, Honora would kiss him gently before whispering.

“Goodbye, brother.” Unless something changed, his mind would go black again.

Remiel...for once didn't flinch away from Honora, he knew what he asked and felt the weight of what was coming, Remi watched as Honora cried and he didn't fight his own. They were on two different paths and he wouldn't get in her way. She wouldn't have done this he believed if she hadn't stepped in, Honora always knew what was right...

"I lov-," he tried to say it but he had heard when a person dies their life flashes before their eyes and suddenly he wondered if this was close? The childhood they had was torn away..the reunion...the tears...the hugs...the laughter...the death...the anger...the bitter words...the judgement...all went black.

Honora would honor his request. The pain would be unimaginable as she cleaved all memory of her existence from his mind. Honora would be a blank space, a woman that never existed. If she were referenced later, Remiel would be perplexed, be certain that they must be mistaken. And it wasn’t just Honora. Bryce too would be ripped from him, almost jealously, as if Honora wanted to keep the woman for herself. In their place, Honora would leave gaping holes, entire scenes of his life, gone. Not a shred left that might spark future recollection. In its place, there would be peace. Optimism. A desire to build something new. But it would hurt, gods it would hurt.

With a strangled cry, Honora tore her hand from him. Remiel would collapse to the ground, unconscious. She stood there for a moment, looking down at him. Devoid of all feeling, as if she'd been bled dry by the exertion. Remiel had requested that she erase her own memories...but she couldn't. Not only did she have her own memories, but Remiel's as well, twisting up into a narrative that was heartbreaking and infuriating. She understood her brother, in all his complication and beauty and tragedy...only now it was too late. Honora felt a single tear drop down her cheek. She brushed it away, and turned to make her way to the ball.

That was all that mattered now.

The next person who came to fetch their horse would find him. It would take two full days for him to wake again and several days after that to recover fully. And when he did…the name Honora would mean nothing. He had a sister once, he’d know, but she had been taken away young…and never returned.