The place hadn't changed much. Memories flooded in, of finding Mia here, my old friend now long burned at the stake, once leader of this coven. She'd been attacked by the Brotherhood, stripped of her family magic. That act completed her destruction. After a lifetime spent with her power shut down, losing to Andre cracked her so badly she shattered. Poor Mia, who I first knew as Pain, a fitting Goth name for a witch forever tormented by the choices of her parents. I often wondered what would have become of her had she the fighting chance Ameline Benoit and I both had. Mia was lost to me, her ghost simply the dying echo of her memory inside me, something I clung to those moments I needed an extra dose of guilt to make me feel worse than I already did.