Aragon

Olive would never wear such an ugly dress was the first thought that came to Maddie's head. The dress was a plain, ankle-length white, with thin sleeves. The Olive she knew was nothing if not fashion-savvy. It couldn't be Olive, no it couldn't be. Olive would never pack her hair up in a bun, nor would she wear a circlet of bones on her head. And Aosoth had called her a strange name: Aragon. But then the stranger had Olive's white-blonde hair, her delicate tallness, her dimpled cheeks, her regal nose. The stranger in Olive's body was staring but not seeing, at Maddie, the ghost of a smile etched on her face.

"Hello, Maddie" Olive—Or Aragon—said

Maddie turned to Aosoth "What did you do to her?" she screamed "What did you do to my friend? “How could you? She was just a—she is just a girl, just an ordinary human—”

“She isn’t human,” said Aosoth, in her silky voice. “She is as much a demon as I am. You just couldn’t see it, Madeleine, because it wore the face of a friend.”

“She isn’t a mo