Considering her notoriously poor luck, she really shouldn't have been surprised when Violetta caught up to her outside. Before Maizah had even had the chance to exit her ghost form, she heard Violetta speak from just behind her.

"Sterling."

Maizah jumped, a tiny yelp leaving her lips. She spun around to come face to face with none other than Olden V. Rivers just as her form filled out and she fully reentered the land of the living. Holding a hand to her breast, she simply breathed for a period of time just to make sure her heart wasn't going to beat out of her chest. Then, she gave a sheepish smile.

"I told you not to follow," Violetta said. She didn't bother explaining how she'd known. Maizah didn't bother asking, either, because she doubted there'd be a point. "Is following basic instructions really so difficult for Furoans?"

"Is having a basic personality really so difficult for Teios, or is it just you having a hard time?"

Violetta's brow twitched and Maizah couldn't help but laugh.

"If you cared about your sister at all—"

"Of course I care about my sister." Maizah's amusement was beginning to wane. Irritation was taking its place. "Don't cross rivers, Violetta."

Violetta looked absolutely baffled. It was as if she wasn't used to arguing. As if she wasn't used to even having to, and that baffled Maizah just as much. Maizah's entire life had always felt like a fight. 

"Olden Rivers," Violetta corrected. "You aren't qualified to call me by my name. You never will be."

"What if I become Oldenzier of the Furoa Omen?" Maizah asked. It was for the hell of it. She already knew the answer just behind Violetta's teeth. No matter what she did or what she accomplished, she would always be Furoan. As a Furoan, she would always be beneath the Teio Omen. Still, a part of her was surprised to hear Violetta voice it so blatantly aloud.

"Never," Violetta said again. Her voice was beginning to lose its monotony. "Your Omen is a curse upon Faetronia. A curse, no matter how spectacular, is still a curse. A curse will never live up to the standard of a blessing. That will never change."

"Violetta," Maizah said. Paused. Let the weight of the word linger in the air around them. "Not all blessings are worth having. For instance, the blessing of your birth got you a lot, didn't it? I bet you never had to worry about climbing the ranks. Olden was a title guaranteed from the second you drew your first breath, but that means it's also a title as worthless as this conversation. It means nothing."

Violetta's eyes widened and Maizah wanted to feel bad. She really did, only it was so hard when she was so incredibly angry.  

"I worked hard to get what I have," Violetta said, voice hard.

"That's a lie I'd tell myself, too, if I were you," Maizah said back. "You probably chant it in your head before you go to sleep every night, don't you? I pity you."

"I don't need your pity."

"I know. I'm being giving." Maizah's tone slipped into something sarcastic. "Isn't that worthy of praise, Violetta? Surely you can't find anything wrong with that."

Violetta took a step away from her, her eyes widened and her hands shaking at her sides. Maizah might have thought she'd stopped breathing if she couldn't see the way her chest heaved. Heavy and tense and fast. 

"Your parents should be ashamed to call you their daughter."

If everything Violetta had said before had felt like little pinches, the words that'd just left her lips felt like multiple stabs in the chest. Not only was it needlessly cruel, it was also somewhat true. They had been ashamed of Maizah just like they'd been ashamed of Kamaria and Issa. That was undeniable, and that shame had carried on until the last second before they fell into eternal slumber. 

And all just because...

Maizah shook the thought away.

"My parents are dead," she said, the words incredibly painful even out of her own lips. A different kind of self harm. 

Little bits of smoke had escaped out of her mouth with the statement which made Violetta more tense than she already was. Maizah couldn't care about that. She could only focus on turning away before she could make a terrible mistake and leaving as quickly as her trembling legs could carry her.

Ataraxia was an absolutely beautiful place, but it was also a place she didn't belong.

A drop of blood in a sea of gold.