THEY say that the firstborn daughter of the Lloyd Family is a gift from the heavens, and while yes, all children are a gift from God, Marga and Raphael's daughter is quite different, because Marga had prayed and prayed for decades for even the smallest chance of a baby but Raphael is such a failure of a man that his seed cannot produce any infant for her — the doctors had said so, and Marga's parents were enraged upon that thought. Marga loves Raphael nonetheless. Raphael is a kind man, kinder than her father and her older brother, so what more will she ask of Raphael who swooped in to save her from the confines of her home to welcome her in the farm — which she had found so disgusting once upon a time when he talked about his home and eloping — he inherited from his parents' parents' parents.
So when Marga had thrown up consecutively for two whole weeks, when she felt urges to eat food she would have found horrific, when so many signs happened, she disregarded the fact that she is already forty-five, and checked. Of course, she made sure not to hope for much because surely, another heartbreak she could not handle. But she checked and she saw, and she checked again and again, until she burst into tears and ran to her husband who had been doing another of whatever he is supposed to be doing in the farm, and bawled to him, broke him the news, and the Church celebrated. Not only poor Marga and Raphael who never should have had kids in the first place but their small town, the Church, and all their dearest friends.
They had been dubious at first, of course, as the doctors told them years ago that there is little to no chance that Raphael can sire a child. There were fights and arguments but Marga has always been loyal to Raphael. And when the child came at the end of Spring, Marga felt relieved that she can finally have proof of her loyalty — their daughter looks exactly like Raphael, their beloved only daughter. She almost died delivering her daughter, insistent on doing vaginal birth instead of C-Section as the doctors had suggested. Her womb became too ruined to ever dream of another but that's okay, really. As long as she has her most precious Iscah.
And what a beautiful baby Iscah was! Blue eyes just like hers and Raphael's, brown hair just like Raphael's, and oh, oh, oh, Iscah looks so much like her husband that Marga cries in joy. She has always found Raphael handsome in a way that her parents just cannot seem to appreciate; perhaps it is due to how rugged he always seems to appear, his dirty jumpers, and his Scottish accent that is impossibly thicker than her parents' — Marga finds everything about Raphael beautiful that she cannot help but fall even harder for their daughter, so much like her father, so beautiful, their daughter is.
Their lovely miracle child.
ISCAHis another variation of the name 'Sarah' which was apparently the name of Abraham, the man who sired Isaac, who eventually became the ancestors of the Israelites. Some things happened to Abraham and Isaac before all of those Israelite happened, of course — like how God basically told Abraham to sacrifice the son he loved so much to Him just to prove his devotion. Of course, God stopped Abraham from continuing once He became sure that Abraham really was loyal to Him. Raphael named his daughter despite his insistence that he never had a good naming sense. He was about to name her Isaac because of all the Abraham and Sarah comparisons that their neighbors through and maybe that is why Iscah stuck — he had read once after all that one of the different forms of Sarah is 'Iscah', which referenced to her sister, Milcah. If they were to have another child, it definitely would be named Milcah, Raphael knows.
Raphael admits that he is a little shameful of having doubted his wife — the loyal Marga of all people! — of cheating on him and letting someone else father the child in her womb but he just couldn't help it. He was the one who fell so head-over-heels for Marga that one summer visit in his mum's hometown that he courted her relentlessly without wondering what would happen after that summer was over. So of course, it ended with Raphael and Marga eloping and getting stuck in the farm that Raphael had grown up in.
Marga hated the farm at first, as the proper lady that she is and sometimes, he notices that she still hates it here. Why she didn't just leave him especially after finding out that he can barely sire children, he can never know why. Marga says it is because that she loves him, that just being with him is enough for her and he wants to believe her really. He really does. But he is a good-for-nothing man who can barely feed them with luxurious food, cannot even wear a suit even if he tried, always smelling like dirt after rain, and has a hard time cleaning the mud under his nails. Raphael does not know how Marga fell for him but he can only thank the Lord for that. And Iscah... oh, Iscah! His little miracle.
Raphael cannot really call his daughter odd when he does not have much experience with children but Iscah is a crier. She cries and cries until she passes out, cries when she wakes up even after her diapers are changed and even if the milk bottle is shoved in her lips. She just cries and cries and cries and sometimes, Marga cries with her.
"Oh, Izzy, what's wrong?" Marga sobs. "Mummy is here."
Raphael feels useless on those days. He feels like tearing the hair out of his balding head whenever he sees Marga whimper along Iscah's deafening cries.
Are babies usually this sad? Why is Iscah always crying? Her diapers are always clean, her food is always there, and Marga's arms have already gone numb carrying her and patting her back. What more does Iscah want? Why must she be so sad all the time? Raphael just wants Iscah to smile for once, radiate the joy that he associates with children but why is Iscah like this? Always, always so sad and lonely when she does not have to be.
"Please, Iscah," Raphael tells his daughter one night, bags weighing his eyes and he is sure it must be three in the morning. He has got to sleep. He still has to get up at six in the morning for the crops and the animals but Marga can no longer handle fussing over Iscah so often. "Please don't make your Mummy cry so much. Please be happy, Iscah. We can't keep on doing this, sweetheart."
And as if she had understood him, Iscah does not cry as much as she usually does the following weeks and the following months, only cries when she soils her diapers or when she's hungry. Just like that, all the crying stops.
Raphael sometimes stares at Iscah when Marga feeds her some of her baby food, wondering what had happened for Iscah to suddenly become so calm in contrary to her angry wails every time she is awake. Had she understood him? He does not know and he thinks he does not want to know. All he can focus on is the somewhat peaceful look on Marga's face, content to be able to spend time with her daughter not only when she is crying and asleep.
And when Iscah uttered her first words, a soft 'Ma', Marga had cried in happiness. Raphael felt like crying too when Marga rushed out of their house to excitedly tell him that Iscah said her first words, ignorant of the way the edges of her dress sunk into the mud of the fields. "She spoke?"
Marga nods eagerly, holding the drowsy Iscah in her arms happily. "Yes, she did, Raphael! She did!"
Raphael resists the urge to grab them both and throw them in the air with the aging strength he has. He stops, noticing how his hands are covered in dirt but he beams at his wife and his daughter. "Oh, Iscah! When are you going to say 'Da', now?" He laughs, meeting a pair of eyes the look too much like his. "I'll be waiting, alright?"
Iscah does end up calling his 'Da' after two weeks and Raphael thinks this must be the third happiest day in his life; number one is the birth of Iscah, number two is his and Marga's makeshift marriage, and of course, this is the third.
But despite all his joy and thankfulness for being given a child when he is no doubt too old and too sterile to have one, he cannot help but wonder if all children are like this. Are all children as quiet and as brooding as his little Iscah? Are they all so sad-looking and attentive as his Iscah? Because there are more days than none when Raphael would find his daughter strange, a little too strange for their small town's liking.
Iscah Lloyd, miracle daughter of housewife Marga and farmer Raphael — staring at the ceiling and refusing to play with the dozens of toys that were gifted to her by their kind neighbors, delighted for Marga and Raphael. Miracle child Iscah Lloyd who does not babble and talk as much the other children do. Miracle child Iscah Lloyd. Iscah. His Iscah. Named after the wife of Abraham who gave birth to Isaac and the mother of the Israelite. His sweet, sweet Iscah who Raphael does not quite understand.
Strange things used to happen around his Iscah; toys breaking all of the sudden, objects appearing next to her when Raphael knows that he purposely put it away from her. Marga was terrified, of course, undoubtedly worried that there might be a ghost haunting their farm which is not that surprising. The Lloyd's Farm is an old farm, having been passed down from father to son for generations. But the strangeness stopped when Marga called their resident Priest for a blessing, sobbing in her hands while doing so.
Raphael remembers what Iscah had looked like when the Priest blessed her with a hand on her forehead. Terrified? Uncomfortable? Raphael had shaken this off because Iscah was only a toddler and she finds most things uncomfortable, anyway.
Their normalcy continues, or as far as normalcy goes.
Raphael is told by the teachers in Iscah's preschool that his child is very bright. She does not raise her hand to answer the questions — oh, she never does, Mister Lloyd! — but most, if not all, test papers given to her are finished with high marks. Miss Daisy also made sure to emphasize that the bright Iscah does not have friends. Oh, the kids tried to approach her, alright, but Iscah shifts away before things can get friendlier. "I'm really worried for her, Mister Lloyd, especially about the, you know," the topic about the Priest from years ago is underlined and Raphael gets almost angry at the woman, "of course Father Samuel most surely stopped the, uh, disturbances but I've heard some things remain, Mister Lloyd, they do."
"No, Miss Daisy, I'm sure they don't," and Raphael grabs the wide-eyed Iscah from the ground and storms away from the preschool.
Homeschooling is shortly brought up but Marga does not like the thought. They are but farmers with barely enough money to sustain their living. Iscah should learn how to make friends and not isolate herself further! Raphael does not know what to feel about that, but it is true. Money has been hard the past few days and homeschooling is not a very popular thing in their small town. This will only make Iscah the 'weirdo' even more. So Miracle Child, now Weirdo, stays in the preschool since it's either Miss Daisy or the other preschool which is too expensive for their pockets.
But, Raphael thinks as he watches his daughter walk from the front door, eyes still as blue as she was born with, skin so pale that anybody will be surprised to hear she lives in a farm with too much of a contrast from Raphael's tanned skin — I'm worried.
The following years has Iscah going home with small bruises here and there. At first, Marga is furious and she storms to the school demanding who is bullying her daughter, but the preschool, as cheap and as carefree as it is, does not tolerate bullying. There is a short investigation because there really is not much to search for. Nobody is bullying Iscah, even Iscah says so. (The kids are too scared of her, are the unspoken words.) "Maybe she's just anemic," says one of the teachers and Raphael made sure to check too but no, Iscah is physically healthy, except for her skinny frame and her pale complexion.
Raphael doubts now though. Maybe Iscah really is sickly. Maybe the doctors didn't know because they were faulty and stupid but Raphael knows there is something wrong with his daughter.
Iscah is too pale, too skinny, too slouched on the shoulders, and there is something that awfully feels like death around her that Raphael has no idea what's going on. The Church tells him that maybe it is related to the 'demonic sightings' all over their small town, that maybe Iscah was possessed, and no, this cannot be happening!
"Marga's miracle child must have attracted the attention of spirits, Raphael. Everyone was overjoyed with Iscah and you two are very religious and devout followers. It only makes sense why the Devil would target you," Father Samuel tells him comfortingly, "worry not, my friend, we will pray over your Iscah."
And that they do. Their home is littered with more bible and crucifixes than it ever had been. Father Samuel comes over every two days to check up on Iscah but nothing changes. There are still whispers about sightings of something 'black and shadowy' all over their neighborhood, Iscah continues to grow paler and paler and more sickly-looking each day, and it does not stop. It never does—
Until a pair of odd-looking people come, calling his beloved Iscah an 'Obscurial'. Raphael has never been so angry before.
JULIANDawlish has always been told that he is nothing like his braver counterpart, his older brother by a handful of years, John Dawlish, and that he should never have been an Auror in the first place. The people around him say that he is far too soft for the job and too focused on book smarts rather than the practicality that is required as an Auror. He likes to think that they only want to poke fun of him being a Ravenclaw to his brother's Gryffindor, but that does not make sense. John had better grades than him back in Hogwarts and — oh, he realizes. That is kind of embarrassing now that he thinks about it.
Gryffindors are stereotyped to be arrogant muscle-brained idiots and to say that John Dawlish the Gryffindor had better grades — Outstanding in all of his NEWTS — that his little brother, Julian Dawlish the Ravenclaw, is something that Julian shouldn't be proud of.
Julian has always been told that he does not need to be an Auror to surpass his brother. He can be something else! Like a Professor or a Potioneer since he is amazing at the subject, after all. But becoming an Auror was Julian's dream before it became John's — their mother was killed by Death Eaters and Julian was the one to have witnessed it happen, only for an Auror to save their lives at the nick of time. Julian's wanted to be an Auror ever since and John only decided to become one when Slughorn said he was quite good when it comes to Dueling, and then followed by Dumbledore, and a few more teachers, then boom, John aces all of his NEWTS and becomes the Dawlish Auror.
Which is why when reports of Obscurial sightings rang in the Auror Office, Julian volunteered to go along with Evanna Milos, grabbed the first person in the Department of Regulation and Control for Magical Creatures, and quickly Apparated to a small town in the North of Scotland. Brilliant.
"I can't believe Obscurials are still being born right now," Milos huffs to herself when she finally manages to steady herself from the abrupt Apparation. Julian is the best at it, according to many, able to Apparate more two people that one time and is rather silent in doing so as well.
Ellias Ellis, the one from the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, scowls at Milos. "Obscurials aren't born," he corrects, "it's the Obscurus. They're manifested by the Obscurials and—"
"I had Care for Magical Creatures too, thank you very much," Milos rolls her eyes, "what I'm trying to say is that the Witch Hunts are over and done with. I don't understand why Muggles can still abuse their Magical children so much that they end up as Obscurus—"
" Obscurial," Ellis grunts, "Obscurus are the parasites and Obscurials are the host. Get it right."
Julian smiles sheepishly at them, quickly attempting to ease whatever grievances they have of each other. He did hear once that Ellis and Milos had — or perhaps, still has — a rivalry going further back in their Hogwarts days as Slytherin and Gryffindor respectively. Rather cliché, if you ask Julian the Ravenclaw. "I heard this place is a really Christian one."
"Oh, of course it is! Christians! Always the prejudiced ones, aren't they!"
Milos sneers. "You're one to talk, Pureblood."
With a look of indignation and offense, Ellis whips out his wand angrily to Milos who responds with practiced ease. It is Milos, after all, who is an Auror and Julian remembers the countless of times Milos defeated him in Duels 'even as a half-blood', as Ellis puts it. "Watch your mouth, Milos."
Julian really should not have picked Ellis among the tons of members of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. There are quite many he knows will be able to avoid Milos' ire. "As I was saying, maybe the Church here is the reason why the Obscuru — ial became what it is. Ellis, what can you say?" He asks.
The older man huffs. "Well, there are three possibilities with this one; either it is below the age of ten and is so strong that the Obscurus actually manifested, which is highly unlikely, mine you, or it is in the age of ten which explains the bouts of appearances, or it is rather weak and is older. There are very little Obscurials who managed to survive after they turn ten, so little in fact, that it is never heard of. Though there is that one instance with Scamander—" Julian notices Ellis' eyes brighten at the thought of who Julian knows is the most famous Magizoologist. "—when he encountered a very powerful Obscurial in America around the age of fourteen to sixteen, it was quite vague."
"Fourteen to sixteen?!" Milos gasps in indignation. "Surely not! That's too old."
"There are no reports of Obscurials older than the one Scamander encountered so I doubt this one will be the same. You can count on the Obscurial being a child, Dawlish."
"Alright," Julian nods, "what do you suggest we do?"
Ellis scowls as if critically judging Julian of his mental capacity but chooses not to comment further. "The safest way to... subdue an Obscurial and its Obscurus, in lack of better terms, is to give them a welcoming environment and convince them that their magic is not as repulsive as their abuse might indicate."
"We're going to give it some encouraging words?" Milos questions. "If so, then why were Aurors asked to do this? Should've just sent the Mind Healers."
Looking more repulsed with each word that goes out of Milos' mouth, Ellis' scowl deepens further. "You claim to have taken Care for Magical Creatures and yet you do not know? Well, Milos, if your puny Gryffindor head cannot really remember, then let me enlighten you — "
"Ellis, please," Julian sighs in exhaustion.
"—an Obscurus is the manifestation of repressed energy. You do know that Accidental Magic is one of the most powerful forms of magic, much more powerful than some spells coming from the wand, yes? Precisely because of the fact that it is uncontrolled, undiluted, and not pacified by the wand. Imagine that Accidental Magic and repress it so much that it gets stuck in, what do those muggles call it? Ah, yes, that ball-oon. Put that repressed magic in the ball-oon and let it build up and build up. Not only is it one of the purest and rawest form of magic but it is also compressed so much and do you know what such compression and tightness results to? Explosions, Milos, explosions. So of course, you need Aurors, Milos. How else do you plan to get close to a 'ticking time bomb', as you've called me in Hogwarts, of a child?"
The redness of anger disappears in Milos' face and is instead replaced by a pitiful and sorrowful look. "And to think these Obscurials are only children," she mumbles.
Ellis mirrors her sympathies for a brief moment. "Indeed. They die far too young as well. You may think of me as prejudiced but I have nothing against those with magic and I would like to help this child discover the beauty of the Magical World." He bares his teeth. "This Muggle Word is polluting such child and driving them to ruin. Oh, if only I were a Hit-Wizard."
"That is not how Hit-Wizards work, Ellis," Julian corrects, "anyway, I doubt the investigation would be hard. The news must be widespread in the town for it to reach our ears. We must find the Obscurial immediately and, I suppose, give them the warm welcome they deserve?"
And Julian is not wrong. The investigation comes a lot faster than they expect and by the end of their third day, they manage to finally find the best suspect of an Obscurus host. From the whispers of 'Miracle Child' to 'strange things happen around the kid' — they manage to haggle the most information from the teacher who moved schools, Miss Daisy Andrews who claims to have taught a 'really strange girl' a year or two ago, said something about demonic possession and misfortune following the girl slowly but surely. Julian knows little about the muggle world but when the word 'exorcism' had escaped Miss Andrews' lips, Milos had looked ready to throw a hex towards the woman.
Milos spends the entire day furious which meant that she was no exactly on the best of shape, and as much as Ellis would have liked to berate her, he keeps his mouth shut upon Milos' explanation to what an exorcism actually is. Even Julian is scandalized. Demons are much different from Wizards and Witches, thank you very much, he thinks.
It takes a while for them to arrive at the Obscurial's home, which is apparently a farm and one of the three farms in the small town in Scotland. Milos and Ellis, from beside Julian, are already buzzing in agitation, eager to see what damage those 'filthy Muggles' — Julian can never really stop Ellis from having such prejudiced mindset, can he? — have done to the poor Magical Child. Julian even had to remind them that they cannot just go attacking random Muggles out of nowhere without a proper warrant.
And so, they arrive.
Milos is the one who knocks on their door, having softer features in comparison to Ellis' very intimidating form which they suppose is part of his Pureblood childhood while Julian is far too jittery to even attempt. "Why isn't anyone answering?" The only woman in the team hisses.
"You just knocked, Milos — "
As if having heard them, the door clicks open and all three of them freeze.
Oh, Julian thinks in pity and confusion and so many more emotions he cannot put a name on, "Hello," he greets unsurely.
It is the Obscurial that opens the door for them, eyes wide and more azure than Ellis' — looking awfully nothing like the tales of Obscurials in the textbooks that he had gone through and maybe, Ellis is right after all; that one must treat the Obscurial and the Obscurus as separate beings yet one being at the same time. Like the Christians' Holy Trinity and what a riot that will be, to compare one of the most dangerous and darkest forces to the God that their worst enemies worship.
The Obscurial (a child, he knows) looks at them in suspicion and even frowns to show this. "I don't think I've seen you before," it says with a lisp.
Julian becomes confused then and there. How is he supposed to address the Obscurial? Ellis says that at the very end, the Obscurial is a mortal like them and that they are only called Obscurial because they are the parasitic host of the Obscurus but aside from that, they are mortals like them, capable of living and dying, and that the only difference is how short their lifespan is and they have some parasite clinging to them.
How are they even supposed to address the situation to a supposed nine-year-old child, a year away from the average age of an Obscurial's death? Julian's mind becomes blank and he is supposed to be the leader of the team here! Milos seems to have noticed this because she squares her shoulders and kneels down to the child's eye level, "We're not here to hurt you. You're Isaiah, right?" She asks.
The Obscurial — the child furrows her eyebrows. "Isaiah? No. You're in the wrong house. Isaiah lives down the street," she answers.
Ellis sighs, mumbling something about Milos' idiocy. "We're not here for Isaiah. We're here for Iscah Lloyd," he clarifies and sends a glare towards the embarrassed Milos.
Julian shifts uncomfortably when the child stares at their admittedly out-of-place clothing. Milos mentioned once that all of them wizards can never manage to fit in the Muggle World with their habits and their clothes. He certainly looks different from Iscah Lloyd's sleeved, yellow sundress.
Said child blinks once, then twice before saying, "Mum told me that the Priests from Liverpool will be coming tomorrow, not today. But please, come in."
Milos looks as if she is about to say something for a moment, perhaps correct little Iscah but Ellis nudges her side aggressively and gestures to follow him inside the home. Julian feels a little guilty but he never really lied, did he? His older brother would have had corrected him and said that technically, he lied by omission but Julian is not John.
The three of them enter the house, two of them more reluctant than they like to admit. Upon being offered the couch, Julian watches the Obscurial flit through the kitchen and end up serving them tea and biscuits. It is then does Ellis speak, looking far too concerned, "You have bruises on your arms."
Iscah fiddles with her fingers warily. "Father Samuel said that demonic possessions often cause bruises you don't know the origin of — "
"You're not possessed by a demon!" Milos exclaims. "You're just Magical, darling! You're a witch!"
" Milos," Ellis hisses.
Iscah looks torn between frustration and embarrassment. Julian resists the urge to reach out to her hands as he catches her nails dig furiously against her skin in agitation and anxiety. "Witch," she deadpans, "I haven't been called that. Are you going to burn me in a stake or some—"
"Of course not!" Milos interrupts again and stands up from the couch to kneel by Iscah's knees. She reaches out to hold the child's hand reassuringly, stopping the girl from further injuring herself. "Iscah, you're not being possessed by a demon, nor are you going to be burned to a stake. You're a witch, Iscah. And so am I." She whips out her wand out of nowhere and points it to a nearby cup of tea. " Wingardium Leviosa ."
"For Merlin's sake, Milos—" Ellis groans as the tea floats. Iscah, this time, looks positively gobsmacked.
"What? How else would you have told her?" Milos growls angrily. She turns back to Iscah, sporting a gentle look. "It's okay, Iscah. You're not alone. We have a whole Wizarding Community to help you through your magic."
Iscah tears away her hands from Milos. She looks at all of them in the eye, meeting Julian's fearfully. Does Julian truly look thats scary in the eyes of Iscah? "We're not going to hurt you, Is—"
"Who are you and what are you doing in my house?"
Julian jumps and turns his head as fast as he can, whipping out his wand along with him. His guard drops the moment he sees the familiar blue eyes he had seen in Iscah Lloyd's eyes and it takes him more than a moment to realize that this man is Raphael Lloyd.
Raphael Lloyd with a loaded shotgun.
ONCEupon a time, Iscah Lloyd was not Iscah Lloyd. She was someone plainer than Iscah Lloyd, she supposes. She definitely didn't have eyes as blue as Iscah's, but her hair. Her hair was as dark as this one. Her skin might not have been as pale as Iscah's but her fingers were as bony as hers. Her nose might not have been as pointed as Iscah's but her bruises were as dark as hers. Once upon a time, Iscah Lloyd was not Iscah Lloyd. She was somebody else, someone a little happier, a little more cheerful, someone with a brighter smile, straighter teeth, smoother lyrical words, and much eager chatters. Yes. Once upon a time.
But she was not that person anymore. Iscah Lloyd is now Iscah Lloyd, miracle child of Marga and Raphael Lloyd, two devout Christians and isn't that funny? That religion keeps on following and following her endlessly but look at her now; reincarnated, once died and now reborn. She knows that isn't part of their belief. Of course, she knows. Once upon a time, she was one too. Well, on paper she was, but she never liked the idea of God anyway. She found it stunning, yes — the idea of such omnipotent being caring about what ants do and how they treat each other is flattering and comforting, made her feel wanted, but that was not how it ended.
Sometimes, it does not matter how it ends.
Like this one; Iscah Lloyd has a mother and a father, Marga and Raphael Lloyd who love no one more than they love her. She's never had a father before but she knows Raphael Lloyd is an amazing one. Raphael is always, always so patient with her and her 'demon-possessed' self.
And maybe, they are right.
Because Iscah is not Iscah, and sometimes, strange things happen to Iscah. Demonic things. Like things suddenly appearing in her hands and things moving on their own; the windows shutting when she's cold, dark stuff pouring from her when she becomes so so frustrated that she becomes so angry and she wants to pull her hair out of her head because who is she who is she what is she I want to die please I wanna — demonic things happen to Iscah and she knows there is something wrong with. She knows whatever is happening in their small town is because of her and because of her, the priests visit and the town looks away from their family.
She hates this. Raphael and Marga love her regardless of her demonic possession (MAYBE THE SOUL THAT IS IN ISCAH LLOYD IS THE DEMON AND SHE IS BEING BANISHED NOW GET AWAY FROM THIS POOR MIRACLE CHILD OF SUCH DEVOUT FOLLOWERS OF CHRISTIANITY) and all she can give them is nothing but misfortune w hy won't these black things go away go away go away make Marga and Raphael happy you demonic creature ge t away, please . Please. Please. Please. All she wants is to give Marga and Raphael the daughter that they want, the miracle child for kind and warm-hearted Marga and Raphael Lloyd who were so overjoyed at the prospect of having a child, cried themselves to sleep when they found out that there is something wrong with their little Iscah Lloyd.
How cruel of me, she thought once when she stared at the mirror and saw black hair and blue eyes, and pale skin and suffocating white teeth, to be so greedy to not spare them a normal child.
Once upon a time, Iscah Lloyd was not Iscah Lloyd. She was just a soul trapped in the body of a child who was so, so deeply loved. Until Iscah Lloyd stopped being Iscah Lloyd.
She should have known really. An Obscurial. She laughs. How could she have not known? Was she truly that foolish? Black smoke. Black ashes. Moving objects. Weird happenings. Magic. And because of her, because of this out-of-place stagnancy stuck in this childlike body of hers. Because of her, because she always, always, always makes mistakes.
Once upon a time, Iscah Lloyd damned Iscah Lloyd.
(An Obscurial. A Dark Creature. Of course. She laughs and laughs and laughs and laughs. A Demonic Possession. It isn't really that far, is it? Both a parasite and both coming from the lack of faith and wandering to the wrong side of things. So much for her namesake.)