Records I

"Records?" I asked, leaning behind Damon to whisper to Blaise.

Blaise only gave me a confused look in reply. "I've never seen it used before," he confessed softly. 

I guessed no one had invoked such a function in previous conferences. There was a thoughtful hum that echoed throughout the room; our eyes were drawn towards the oracles, who appeared with more bowls of moonwater. 

Their eyes were unseeing as they simply took their turns to pour more of the moonwater into the bowl. Magically, the bowl somehow never seemed to overflow. Once again, the surface smoothed over to reveal a series of damning memories― Damon, with his broad shoulders and strong back, casting a long shadow that threatened to swallow Darach whole. 

He was surrounded by other werewolves his age, but it was Damon who led the violence, kicking Darach who had curled himself up into a ball to protect himself from the blows. 

'Stop it! You're hurting me!' Darach screamed out in pain.