Bonus Chapter!

Akelarre straightened her outfit before sitting down on the sofa. She waited, taking a deep breath to calm herself before opening her eyes and focusing on the Seer.

The Grimm wobbled in the air before her, uncaring that she was focused on it or that there were bugs crawling along its surface. “Connect me to Salem,” she said.

The Seer wobbled again, a faint sound escaping it for a moment. Then the orb at its top moved and the darkness within swirled. Soon she was facing a curious Salem, her image distorted on the edges but still clearly visible. “Akelarre,” Salem said with a hint of surprise. “I didn’t expect you to contact me so soon.”

Akelarre smiled. “Didn’t expect to need to so soon either.”

“Is something wrong?” Salem asked immediately.

Perhaps she was just curious, perhaps she was genuinely concerned. Either way it warmed her heart a little and gave Akelarre the push to go on. “Maybe. I’m fine, physically. So is Cinder and her friends. The house is secure as far as my Grimmsects can see, which is quite a ways. And my own friends are alright, last I talked to them.”

“So the problem lies elsewhere,” Salem said. She was on her throne, the imposing seat becoming more evident as she leaned back into it. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Is it that obvious?” Akelarre asked.

“To me it is,” Salem said.

Akelarre sighed, but her smile didn’t leave -- it only grew sadder. “Vale has been nice. So has helping Cinder. I... my memories are coming back, I think. Not quickly, not all at once, but in these little flashes of nostalgia. The docks in Vale felt like home, and talking with Roman and Neo brought back so many little things.”

“That’s wonderful,” Salem said, and she spared Akelarre a small but genuine smile. Or she did until she noticed Akelarre’s lack of response. “Or is it not so?”

“I... don’t know?” Akelarre admitted. “Some of those memories are nice. And, and I’m changing, aren’t I? I’m not as dumb as I was a few months ago.”

“I would hardly call you that,” Salem chided.

Akelarre nodded, conceding the point. “Okay, perhaps not dumb, but certainly not at my best. And that’s the problem, I think. At my best... Taylor. I was, am Taylor, and at her best Taylor was a terror, a monster. I don’t want to become that again.”

“Then don’t,” Salem said. “Do you think I have always been Salem, Queen of the Grimm?”

“What?”

Salem shook her head. “Sometimes, every few centuries when I have secured a few of the relics in the game of cups that Ozma and I play, I tire of my role as the villainess. So I stop. I have spent decades in contemplation, I have owned businesses and towns, I farmed once, though my crops never grew well. I even, on some occasions, lived amongst humanity. The faunus interested me at first, so I spent time in their communities, and I watched as every one of the major cities of this day grew from a village to the bastions they are today. During those times I was not Salem. Ozma is certainly no better. He changes himself more than some people change hats.”

“I, I don’t get it,” Akelarre said.

“Do you want to be Taylor, or do you want to be Akelarre?” Salem asked.

“I... I have good memories as Taylor. Nothing else, but some good memories. But for every good memory I have a dozen regrets, and those are the things that surface the most.”

Salem sighed, a weary, dreadful sound that told of disappointment, and shared pain. “Akelarre, Taylor, you don’t have to carry those same regrets. By the foul grace of the gods you have been born again. If there was ever a reason to abandon such things, that is certainly it. If you don’t want to be Taylor anymore, then become Akelarre in full. If you don’t want to be her anymore, then carve out a new name and path for yourself.”

“I.” Akelarre paused. She turned to look away from the Seer and wiped her eyes with a quick swipe of her thumb. “I kind of like being Akelarre,” she said in a whisper.

“And I like you being who you are, the young woman that fell into my lap and did her best to turn my world upside down. If... if you were to become someone else I would understand, I would support you even. No matter who you become, I will be here. That much I can promise.”

Akelarre felt a smile tugging at her lips, and as she let go of her restraint it turned into a grin. “Thanks.”

“You are very welcome,” Salem said.

“S-Salem,” Akelarre said after a moment’s pause. “Can I call you mom?”

Salem swallowed and her eyes widened for a moment, a flash of panic and pain then some emotion that Akelarre couldn’t pin crossed her features before the woman deflated. She stared at her through the distance. “I think I would like that, daughter.”