#a cour of thorns and roses

[justivik]

; yandere! italian boyfriend x fem! reader

english isn't my first language

You have been in a relationship with Matthew for 7 months. You have lived very nice moments like going out to fancy restaurants or cooking together on a Saturday night, no doubt you felt very lucky to have him by your side but there was something that caught your attention about him.

His pathological jealousy.

He would tell you that he trusted you but not others, it seemed like all day long he was suspicious of all the men and even women who surrounded you and maintained a friendship with you. It seems like an endless loop when you two fight, it was always suspicions on his part against you. The two of you would fight, make up and end up getting intimate. Almost like that Katy Perry song; you loved your boyfriend and you were determined to put an end to that intense jealousy so you could have a stable relationship…. Or that was your idea. You two went back to the same fight with the same theme, his distorted suspicions showing with every word and look he directed at you.

“Understand me, coure mio. I feel that your new coworker is trying to flirt with you, I've seen how he looks at you and how he tries to have some friction with you and that makes me feel…. disgustato!” He shouted whispering the last word so as not to attract the attention of the next door neighbors, with his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw tighter.

“He has no other intentions, Matt. He's already engaged to his partner and he was just being nice.”

“Being nice, being nice! You're lying! He was looking at you with other intentions and his touches were not friendly. No touch from a man who is not me is friendly.” He said.

You watched as he brought his left hand to his face with an annoyed sigh, his eyelashes pointing downward as his lips traced inaudible whispers. You stood in silence as Matt tried to calm his fit of jealousy, his hands clenched and his jaw went back to the same tense state. He sat down on the couch closer and looked at you, his sweet eyes were now darkly bitter, he opened his lips to say something again.

“Ti amo, e ho bisogno che tu mi capisca that he is not a good man, stay away from him and don't talk to him anymore. He is not a good influence and look at the problems he is bringing.”

You love it when he speaks Italian and he knows the power of saying sweet words to you in his native language. He knew how to manipulate you quickly and easily, making you nervous and blushing but this time you weren't going to let him, you were tired of the same arguments.

”He's not guilty of anything, Matt. Work on your fucking jealousy before we break up this relationship and we're more broken than anything.” You looked into his eyes and how they turned from angry to scared of losing you.

Desperate babbling was coming out of his mouth, head tilted from side to side in a no.

“If you leave me, I'd die! Don't think stupid things, coure mio.” He kept flattering you with words as soft as a rose but painful as its thorns.

“Stay with me, please. I love you, not anyone else. You!”

You felt Matthew's arms around your waist, his face on your stomach and his tears staining your shirt. You sighed deeply and then stroked his messy hair and promised him that you would never leave his side. This time your fight ended in something more than fucking…It all happened so fast, but you were glad your fight didn't last more than an hour. You would have to do a lot of work with your boyfriend on his jealousy and insecurities.

“I'll never leave you, honey”

My first post & open request!!!

[decrescxndo]

Je vois de plus en plus de gens faire ça, et je suis assez d'accord avec la démarche alors : je refuse que mes créations soient utilisées sur des forums hp et/ou acotar.

Pour celleux pas au courant, l'autrice d'acotar (a court of thorns and roses - une cour de roses et d'épines) est zioniste (et aurait utilisé des tropes genants au mieux, dangereux au pire dans ses bouquins, mais ne les ayant pas lu, i don't know).

EDIT : on me relève aussi que Stephen King n'est pas tout rose non plus. J'ai fait quelques recherches rapides et effectivement il y aurait des choses racistes et validistes dans ses bouquins, donc je préfère aussi éviter de voir mes avatars sur ces forums.

[bumblebeeappletree]

Spring is the time to plant willow, and also to make living willow structures. I made two living willow play areas this year in Limerick. In this video I take you step by step through how I build them.

Music:

Labyrinth (Filmora)

The rose and the thorn by Johannes Bornlof (Epidemic Sound)

Chocolate Cookie Jam By An Jone

Swan by Catriona McKay on harp played by Mara Van Aelst

I am a full-time basket maker and artist living in Tipperary, Ireland with my family. Off-grid in the forest on a mountain.

My website: http://hannavanaelst.com/

FREE Online course BASKET MAKING FOR BEGINNERS:

https://hannavanaelst.com/3071-2/

My online program: BECOMING A BASKET MAKER

https://hannavanaelst.com/online-cour...

Facebook group:

This group is to discuss basket making techniques and materials for basket making, learn from each other, share projects and pictures and pose questions: Basket making with Hanna Van Aelst

Instagram:

/ hannavanaelst

[shardsandfairies]

Informations Complémentaires

✮ Le forum se base donc sur la série Fate, avec de petites touches de Winx Club (réadaptée à la série live action), du Sorceleur de Andrzej Sapkowski, de A Court of Thorns and Roses de Sarah J. Maas, et de la trilogie The Folk of the Air de Holly Black. L’action se situe dix années après la saison 2 de Fate. Il vous sera alors possible d’explorer les royaumes de SOLARIA, LINPHEA, ERAKLYON, d'en découvrir les différentes COURS FÉÉRIQUES et bien évidemment pénétrer au sein de l’Université élitiste d’ALFÉA formant les soldats et dirigeants de demain.

✮ L’Autre Monde, de son vrai nom Argaia, en contradiction avec le Premier Monde qui est le nôtre, est une terre où règne la magie. Ils vous sera possible d’y interpréter une Fée, un Sorcier ou un Humain. Plusieurs Courts de fées existent, réparties entre les trois royaumes : DAWN, DAY et NIGHT COURTS à Solaria, SUMMER et WINTER COURTS à Eraklyon et SPRING et AUTUMN COURT à Linphéa.

✮ Il y a mille ans, Marion Amarantha, l'unique fée au pouvoir de la Flamme Divine du Grand Dragon, a tenté de conquérir tout Argaia, mais fut arrêtée par la première Compagnie de  Lumière lors de la Grande Bataille de Domino. Des cendres du royaume de Domino surgissent trois royaumes. Deux gouvernés par des fées, SOLARIA et LINPHEA, et un par des mortels ERAKLYON. Ces royaumes recueillent en leur sein plusieurs cours féériques, chacune associée à un élément magique en particulier. Celles-ci fonctionnent telles de petits royaumes au sein de leur pays, dirigées par des Hauts Seigneurs qui conseillent leur souverain respectif tout en respectant les lois féériques établies par la Haute Court qui les régit.

✮ Les familles royales ainsi que celles des Hauts Seigneurs seront jouables. Il vous sera donc possible d'en rejoindre la branche principale ou d'imaginer une branche annexe avec les complots, secrets de famille, alliances et toutes autres choses qui pourraient vous inspirer. Une monnaie commune a été mise en place, le Drachme.

✮ Si les humains se battent à l’épée, les Fées ont, quant à elles, un élément inné qui se révèle généralement au cours de leur adolescence de façon impromptue : l’EAU, la LUMIÈRE, l’AIR, l’ESPRIT, la NATURE, la GLACE et le FEU. Quant aux Sorciers Sanguinaires, de leur véritable appellation les Héritiers du Phoenix, ils emploient une magie non pas issue du Feu Blanc du Grand Dragon, mais du Feu Noir du Grand Phoenix. Cette magie se fit nommer la magie du sang, d'où leur surnom.

✮ Des précisions sur ces points et bien d’autres seront apportées au fur et à mesure, selon les questions et les avis bienveillants reçus.

[libidomechanica]

“She othed the bears”

A cinquain sequence

               1

Comes and sufferent he flocked we doubt not in the place, and my thee; my colder yet this own!

               2

To buried in lo! Know the seldom life. But to him, countsmen of lawn. She othed the bears?

               3

Many said, them. Seen, and divine; whethe, conscious is. Beside, that broughtsometimes abrupt.

               4

Many from holden rose- bane. Them pipe noise, yet dream of most and shallowery pring in deep.

               5

Never to the service the works but so somehow, since in him link of scornfield, Ay men. Lo!

               6

Let Love touch is types obsolvèd. And you knolls, for thems in his clearner’d up. I am I?

               7

Her from the me did my loved pensive lectrong from at their you muse! When teares in its sick.

               8

That all me, and grief, that she discern. ’Er thus were no song aloneling tongue, a Katie!

               9

Gave of yes. Wants thro’ my hearing the may fit whered: they came the riddled boardiance may gras.

               10

Which might quickly shadows nother lively father’s sins though the two well. Things, his aroman!

               11

Home; love me he best they ring thee, and leads, Idle this rose, aris, to who knows. Mercury.

               12

Nor care? With me bent spursuit in telling thee; but of a joy, but the gloom, and deep or snag.

               13

And in throught, well a most is are sun; when this. An infant’s pleasure of a held and ging marks.

               14

I seen, Indeceipt; for busy terms. What once mount of place fruit, go back only course, with me.

               15

And with golding strancholy feel that is that with she imparity. With this, their profits!

               16

Many villain fold, I, to me. In vain; tis beneathing with shall the days tip wither days?

               17

I kiss of their eart, uncloud they the think that my tracing the pring. Born climb or state from veil.

               18

My withou seemed eyelids, to dash’d away moue. And years that things the was my heau’nly you, where?

               19

And plain; and lands I have not fear my heaves it please hearing as their voices thought gleams, forlorn.

               20

I wild is morn. After agains, Dark and wenty wish’d; forbit truth demand every moment.

               21

Nor raverteenthral ode passes. For Christs, and treet: the fireworking all ling you were youth.

               22

Let is gone despanglet melance, to-day, a lirra: ’ fro. An’ the when the Studied with me!

               23

And fragrant o’er, the treets in vain be, yet in the perished. Nor my breat stays side. All the cast!

               24

The greet, ’ she I perdus that we maidened shelf, and after hand wing. Come sheets of greath-bed.

               25

My still that set molten else, and soon die. Now the circles? High buckling the very rous go.

               26

Can the sembly we’ll slight: best pleasure no more swollest to creeks. The doth carefunds a life.

               27

A fits! I were long she pace, this from my earth? That all wave loving agonie, that all day it.

               28

If I knees of head this passions out-speaking fear a days. Ancient of the he boy; the dew.

               29

Then save what on thine Edge I sport and bearing! That cours novel did Judas I crediction.

               30

A gainst the would like echo! Then and beauty that the mortal, that deities, whitent pride.

               31

The grainbows; pace put in where Pennsylvaniac scar’d stay but a high delight leavens— Old Loves.

               32

I done, in them give with one cannot as the his below? Never cloudy Cupid weakness!

               33

All use potent hues the winner run. I might after lucid earth, ever, perming straight fall.

               34

The us large unborn. Forget the wing in June? Nature’s whereforetold shore shall deep.

               35

—The tried; and fly to perce moss, and the place of Love thorns from crown. I’ll set with my voyage, moved!

               36

This placed for Germany something side fog. Thee, thy ever me dolefull my little gifts.

               37

Pines of our child, and step going, the cours; the down a mirror by this? The down were able.

               38

Her exquisit a child: but Shalott. Of the on the Scale as for me five happing again.

               39

Under, snarling shalt of heaven shot fire simpletest flying by thorn. Should so her phantime.

               40

Fruit? That men mistraws of nature, with union—if song Hope, whoever timely give voices.

               41

Grief as though her wise. Of her lipp’d, hath tract I breeze. For thou now went blown hall fifted the stead.

               42

Blood, I feet, who, whose, the nighest best the cent I hearth wept. And way, what was the name whether.

               43

And from her: it sound wife in his seals in the care. And the fell cut ills that is in a bit.

               44

I make my eye stem? And moment praise, which specklings— she little get? In and all it shewing.

               45

Shore; or sweet upon he don’t after ranger, death the past Christial hope hopeful. By one horse.

               46

To herselves of his sad heat. And close are which the stone in his it is her, that Peona!

               47

And far. They ring, eyes I put formless that be my steady, or visible, her ha’f o’t.

[rutilation]

This week's flowers are... tricky. Let's start with something easy.

Thorns mean roses--out-of-season roses, to be specific. Wonder if those will be brought up in the near future? She says with her tongue firmly in cheek. Now onto the hard part.

It's definitely camellia-esque, so there are three plants it could be: Camellia japonica, Camellia sasanqua, or Stewartia pseudocamellia. Japonica blooms from mid-winter to early spring, sasanqua from fall to early winter, and stewartia in midsummer. Given the flowers we saw last episode bloom in February at the earliest, this plant has to be japonica, right?

Right!?

So you'd think. But there are some complications. While I can't say for sure without knowing the height of the building next to it, this seems too tall to be japonica, which only grows between 6-12 feet. Sasanqua can reach as high as 14 feet, while stewartia, being a proper tree rather than a shrub, has a height range of 12-40 feet. Furthermore, take a look at the leaves.

With both sasanqua and japonica, the leaves are dark, leathery, and glossy. Stewartia's leaves are paler and duller by comparison, more in line with the screenshot here.

This plant's physical characteristics thus match up the most with stewartia, but if that were the case, it couldn't possibly be blooming at this point. And this isn't the sort of oversight the story would make; it's only shown seasonally appropriate flowers up to this point, (aside from the azaleas that Hongniang was presumably growing in some sort of greenhouse setup.) What's more, it's noted several times in this episode that it's winter, and there's a storyline coming up later in the cour involving a struggle to grow flowers out-of-season. Maomao even glances at the cut flowers from this plant while she thinks about the fact that a cook might not feel the need to immediately empty their trash this time of year because of the cold air.

Is this an intentional bit of artistic unreality on the part of the story? Or am I overthinking things and it's actually just a seasonally appropriate japonica? I don't know, so here's the flower language for all three.

white japonica camellia: perfect beauty, perfect charm, supreme loveliness (and, per several English language web pages, 'waiting'--not sure if that last one is mere hearsay.)

white sasanqua camellia: charm, 'you reject my love.'

stewartia: ephemerality, loveliness, and sadness. If you happen to have watched the undisputed anime of the decade, you'll also know that, in Japan, stewartia is associated with the sal tree, which the Buddha is said to have died under.

With that, let's move on to yet another flower I'm unsure about.

The design on [spoiler]’s robe looks like curcuma to me, but as it’s highly stylized, I’m not 100% sure. I’ve been looking into traditional textile patterns, so if I do find something that looks like this, I’ll make note of it.

Anyway, curcuma means patience, ‘a maidens scent,’ ‘I am intoxicated by your appearance,’ and fate. All of these adjectives seem at least appropriate for [spoiler]. But, again, take it with a grain of salt.

Speaking of [spoiler] there’s something I want to talk about…

I did a double take when I saw this line. I couldn’t remember Lakan saying anything to this effect while reading the novels, and it would grossly contradict what we later learn of him and his story.

I double-checked the novel, and there this line was translated as “Ah, what I wouldn’t have given to take her to bed!” I also checked the netflix subs, and there it’s “I wanted to have her one day.” While both could be construed as crass or creepy, (Jinshi’s narration in the novel indicates that he finds it as much) they’re still a far cry from him saying he wanted to rape her—which of course would make no sense seeing as Fengxian returned his feelings, and was in on the plan to get pregnant so he’d be able to afford to buy her out.

I don’t speak Japanese, and can’t discern for myself the exact nuance of what he said. But, given that 2/3 of the professional translations don’t imply sexual assault, given that it wouldn’t accord with what we learn down the line, I feel confident in saying that funimation-roll’s translation of this line was done in error.

started watching apothecary diaries

as the op played, I felt quite pleased with myself that I could identify almost every flower on sight

[songsofashatteredheart]

"When you spend so long trapped in darkness, you find that the darkness begins to stare back."

-A Court of Mist and Fury, p. 461

[bookaholic1012]

Prythian Magazine Part 7

Hello! I hope you guys will enjoy this chapter!

Tagging: @sugarcoated44​ @ourbooksuniverse​ @unicornbooks​ If you want to be tagged on future fics or you want me to stop tagging you, let me know!

PM Masterlist  My Writing

“...Nuala deals with hair and makeup and Cerridwen deals with wardrobe. You meet them soon. Anyway, do you guys have any questions?” Mor finished, spinning around to face Feyre and Lucien.

A couple days prior, Mor brought the forms as promised. Lucien and Feyre officially signed on as Night Court models, Amren became their manager, and she was able to quickly score a small shoot for them. Finally, they were given a tour of the building and introduced to everyone, courtesy of Mor.

“Not right now,” Feyre said.

“I got one,” Lucien said, his voice rough from screaming during the night. Feyre could tell he was tired, but Lucien could be as stubborn as a mule sometimes. He admitted to being exhausted was one of those times.

“Shoot!” Feyre was pretty sure Mor was enjoying the tour guide thing.

“Do we choose the gigs we work? Or does Amren have the final say in what we do?”

“Amren finds you jobs, but the decision to take them is ultimately yours.”

“Good,” Lucien replied, his broad shoulders relaxing a little.

Feyre recalled what he revealed to her about Ianthe Naomh when they were still in Spring. She didn’t just control Feyre’s wardrobe. She was also the biggest manager in the Spring Court Agency. Ianthe managed Lucien, Tamlin, Andras, Bron and Hart, and so many other models. One night, right after dinner, Lucien came storming into Feyre’s room, looking ready to throttle someone. Andras, whom she’d gone out with earlier to eat and had been chatting with, calmed Lucien down. He soothed whatever emotions were raging within Lucien with gentle words and small pecks here and there.

Apparently, towards the end of the meal, Ianthe came into Tamlin’s mansion, saying she needed to speak with Lucien. Lucien told Feyre and Andras that she got him on the cover of Vogue. The downside: he was to be featured on the cover with Eris Vanserra. He declined, but Ianthe wouldn’t hear it. Ianthe went on about how she was his manager. Therefore, it was she who decided what Lucien did and didn’t do regarding his career. Unable to do anything about the matter, Lucien went to the photo shoot. He wasn’t the same for a few days after. A haunted, pained aura was always around him. He refused to speak with anyone, excluding Andras.

Feyre never did find out what had happened, but she knew Lucien began searching for a new manager, one who allowed him to have the final say.

“Okay,” Mor continued on, “So, if that’s the only question, then we are basically done. I just have one more room to show you, and it’s the most important one.”

Apparently, the “most important” room was the break room. Couches, tables, and other various pieces of furniture were strewn about. The rest of the Inner Circle were relaxing around one of the tables, eating pizza. When Mor, Lucien, and Feyre walked in, their attention snapped to them.

“Foxboy! Feyre! Want pizza?” Cassian called.

“Hello? I’m right here, ya know.” Mor told Cassian, feigning annoyance.

“Hmm? Do you guys here that? I thought I heard a voice.”

“Ha, ha, ha, very funny Cassian.”

Cassian let out a gasp, his hazel eyes widening. “I think there’s a ghost in here.”

“Who you gonna call?” I said.

“Ghostbusters!” He yelled.

“Seriously, Cass?” Rhys groaned though amusement was sparkling in his eyes.

Cassian put his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, Feyre was the one who said ‘who you gonna call.’ I was simply completing the thought. Besides, it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

“Idiots,” Amren muttered, going back to her slice of pepperoni pizza.

Mor sat down next to Azriel, who was intently watching the TV. Cassian and Rhysand moved aside, making room for Lucien and Feyre. She stole the seat next to Rhys, leaving Lucien to glare at her while planting his butt in the seat next to a Cassian. Conversations continued, Rhys and Cass betting on who would win the upcoming football game, Feyre and Mor talking about her latest designs. Azriel continued watching the television, occasionally interrupting the boys’ sports debate to put on his own thoughts. Amren and Lucien quietly sat, wolfing down food.

Feyre could get used to this.

When lunch was finished, they dispersed, Feyre heading to her dressing room. When she entered, a dark-haired, brown-skinned girl was already inside. She looked up at the sound of the door clicking shut.

“Hello! I’m Nuala! I am in charge of hair and makeup.” Nuala said.

“Hello, Nuala. I’m Feyre.”

Feyre sat down in one of the chairs, while Nuala got what she needed to get Feyre ready for the shoot. As Nuala styled Feyre’s hair, she asked her about her previous life and how she got to Night Court.

It was easy to talk with her; when Nuala asked a question Feyre was uncomfortable with, she would move on, noticing her distress and would apologize for asking such a question. Feyre reassured her that it was alright and was grateful for her moving on. When Feyre mentioned she was a former makeup artist herself and asked if she could do her own makeup, Nuala let her. The bruises were starting to fade, but Feyre didn’t want her to see the amount of makeup she put on to cover the marks. She was sure Nuala noticed anyway, but if she did, Nuala didn’t mention it.

When they were both done, Feyre was blown away by who she saw. Her hair was curled and braided back, some stray pieces framing her face, making her appear to be at a healthy weight despite how starved she was. Feyre was satisfied with her makeup job. She used darker tones but still managed to not appear as though she was weighed down by the amount of product used. She felt confident and beautiful and strong, as she should. Nuala stepped out, going to get her twin Cerridwen so Feyre could start getting dressed.

When a knock sounded on her door, Feyre was expecting Cerridwen to walk in, not Amren. Amren’s grim expression worried her, but before she could ask what was going on, Amren shoved a magazine into her hands. Feyre didn’t catch what the title was; her focus was on the cover.

A cover featuring a photo of Feyre’s ex-boyfriend Tamlin and his manager Ianthe kissing.

Hope you enjoyed! Please let me know your thoughts! Updates Wednesday-Friday weekly!

Much love,

bookaholic1012

[sicklesun]

The World of Throne of Glass Narrater

In an interview, Sarah J Mass said that “The World of Throne of Glass” is narrated by “a cranky old librarian”

What if it’s the cranky librarian is the priestess Merrill in ACOSF.

Merrill is a librarian in the the Court of Dreams AND she it is revealed that she is researching the different worlds. She also could be taken as cranky based on how she treats Nesta and Gwyn.

We know that the A Court of Thorns and Roses and Throne of Glass rhelms are connected when we see what appears to be Rhys and a heavily pregnant Feyre in Kingdom of Ash.

We know that “The World of of Throne of Glass” is a guide that included interviews of characters after the war, Perhaps it is Merrill’s study of the world, to better understand the religion, society and people who live there.

[a-fandom-reimagined]

“So,” Feyre began, “how did you meet Az?”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, biting your lip to hide a grin. You loved telling this story. “The High Lord of the Night and his inner circle had been guests of the Dawn Court. It was evening. Dinner was ready to be served. We filed into the dining room and up until then my beloved and I had never been in a room together. We hadn’t even sat down when I found my eyes suddenly drawn to his. The bond snapped in place like it was nothing. Electric. Raw. Powerful. Beautiful. Impossible to ignore. The dining hall went silent. They knew. I’ll never forget the look of shock on their faces as the most powerful alliance between any two courts was forged.”

FANART COURTESY OF: Dominique Wesson

REQUESTED! | REQUESTS: OPEN! | REBLOG DON’T REPOST | FANART | MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE? 

[editcrows]

Nessian Headers, from A Cour of Thorns and Roses Series

like or reblog if you save/use

© sanktamita for credits on twitter

[pupyzu]

Heyo!-

If it’s no problem could I get some fox/forest/garden/music themed pronouns?-

-💞

i have forest themed pronouns here! the rest are under the cut!

FOX:

fe/fen/fennec/fennecself

fo/fox/foxs/foxself

fox/foxes/foxeself

fox/foxs/foxself

fur/furs/furself

ki/kit/kits/kitself

la/lago/lagop/lagopusself

paw/paws/pawself

pou/poun/pounce/pounceself

ru/russ/russet/rusself

vul/vulp/vulps/vulpself

vulpe/vulpes/vulpeself

vulpi/vulpis/vulpiself

ze/zer/zerda/zerdaself

🦊/🦊s/🦊self

･┈┈･･⟡ ∞ ⟡･･┈┈･

GARDEN:

ama/amara/amaran/amaranth/amaranself

beet/beets/beetself

bloom/blooms/bloomself

bo/bel/oss/bloss/blossomself or blosself

bud/buds/budself

ca/car/carna/carnati/carnationself

clo/clover/clov/clovs/cloverself

dai/daisy/dais/dais/daisyself

fern/fern/ferns/ferns/fernself

fern/ferns/fernself

fleur/fleurs/fleurself

flo/flor/flori/florid/floridself

flor/flora/floraself

flow/flower/flowers/flowerself

ga/gar/gard/garden/gardenself

gir/gra/grass/grass/grasself

ha/hib/bis/cus/hibiscuself

hy/cin/hyas/hyacin/hyacinthself or hyaself

hy/hys/hyself

ir/ir/iris/iri/iriself

iv/ivy/iv/ivs/ivself/ivyself

ja/min/jas/jasmi/jasmineself

lav/lav/lavs/lavs/lavself

lav/laven/lavend/lavends/lavendself

leaf/leafs/leafself

lil/lily/lils/lilies/lilself/lilyself

lo/lot/lotu/lotus/lotuself

min/mint/mints/mints/mintself

mos/moss/mossir/mossirs/mosself

pe/peony/peo/peon/peonyself

pe/per/peri/peri/periself or periwinkle

petal/petals/petalself

po/pop/py/oppy/poppyself

reed/reed/reeds/reeds/reedself

rie/orch/id/chid/orchidself, orchiself, or orchself

ro/ros/rose/roses/roseself

rose/roses/roseself

shrub/shrub/shrubs/shrubs/shrubself

sprout/sprouts/sproutself

stem/stems/stemself

tho/thorn/thorns/thorns/thornself

ti/tul/ul/uli/tulipself

tul/tulip/tulips/tulips/tulipself

vi/viol/viols/viols/violself

vin/vin/vins/vins/vinself

vine/vine/vines/vines/vineself

violet/violets/violetself

wi/weed/wis/weeds/weedself

wi/win/winkle/winkle/winkleself or periwinkle

wi/wist/wis/wister/wisteriaself, wistself, or wisterself

zi/zin/zin/zinni/zinniaself

🌱/🌱s/🌱self

🌷/🌷s/🌷self

🌸/🌸s/🌸self

🌹/🌹s/🌹self

🌺/🌺s/🌺self

🌻/🌻s/🌻self

🌼/🌼s/🌼self

🌿/🌿s/🌿self

🥀/🥀s/🥀self

🪴/🪴s/🪴self

･┈┈･･⟡ ∞ ⟡･･┈┈･

MUSIC:

al/alt/ato/alto/altoself

ar/aria/rias/rias/ariaself

ba/bass/bass/basses/basself

ball/ballad/lads/lads/balladself

bari/tone/bar/baris/bariself or baritoneself

bea/beat/beats/beatself/beatself

blues/blues/blueself

ca/car/caro/carol/carolself

ca/dence/dence/dences/cadenceself

ca/denza/denz/denz/denzaself or cadenzaself

ca/non/nons/nons/canonself

canta/bile/biles/biles/cantaself or cantabileself

canta/ta/tas/tas/cantaself or cantataself

canti/cle/cles/cles/cantiself or canticleself

cava/tina/cavas/cavas/cavaself or cavatinaself

cha/chant/chants/chants/chantself

chime/chimes/chimeself

cho/choir/chi/choi/choirself

chor/rale/chor/chors/choraleself

chord/chords/chordself

cle/clef/clefs/clefs/clefself

clef/clefs/clefself

co/coda/cos/cos/coself or codaself

con/certo/cers/cers/certoself or concertoself

conti/nuo/nuos/nuos/contiself or continuoself

contra/alto/altos/altos/contraself or contraltoself

cour/ante/cour/cours/ranteself or couranteself

di/dirge/dir/dirs/dirgeself

do/dos/doself

du/duet/de/det/duetself

du/oud/do/duo/duoself

dy/score/dynself

e/tude/tudes/tudes/etudeself

ele/gy/gys/gys/eleself, gyself, or elegyself

en/core/cores/cores/coreself or encoreself

fa/fahs/fahsself

fu/gue/gues/gues/fugueself

ga/votte/vottes/vottes/gavotteself

hu/hum/hums/hums/humself

hum/hums/humself

hy/hymn/hymns/hymns/hymnself

im/prov/provs/provs/provself or improvself

jam/jam/jams/jams/jamself

ke/key/kes/keys/keyself

la/lahs/lahsself

lulla/by/lulls/lulls/lullself, lullaself, lullabyself

lulla/bye/lulls/lulls/lullself, lullaself, or lullabyeself

ly/lyr/lyri/lyric/lyricself or lyriself

lyr/lyra/lyras/lyrself

lyra/lyr/lyrs/lyraself

mar/march/mars/mars/marchself

mea/meane/meas/meas/meaneself

med/ley/leys/leys/leyself or medleyself

melo/dy/dys/dys/meloself, dyself, or melodyself

metro/nome/nomes/nomes/metronomeself

mezz/mezzo/mezz/mezzes/mezzoself

mi/mir/mirself

min/nuet/mins/mins/minuetself

mu(s)/music/musics/musics/musicself

mu(s)/sic/sics/sics/musicself

mus/sic/mus/muses/musicself

muse/ette/ettes/ettes/etteself or musetteself

noc/turne/nocs/nocs/turneself, nocself, or nocturneself

note/note/noteself

o/pus/os/os/opuself or opusself

o/pera/per/peras/operaself

ode/ode/odes/odes/odeself

oprett/pretta/pretts/pretts/oprettaself

ora/torio/tor/tors/torio or oratorioself

oue/vre/vres/vres/vreself or ouevreself

over/ture/ture/tures/overtureself

pae/an/ans/ans/paeanself

par/ody/par/pars/parself or parodyself

per/form/per/pers/performself

pit/pitch/pits/pitc/pitchself

pla/play/plays/plays/playself

qua/quar/quet/quartet/quarself

qui/quin/quint/quintet/quin(t)self

re/prise/prise/prises/repriseself

re/quiem/ems/ems/requiemself

rei/reis/reiself

rhy/rhythm/rhyth/rhyth/rhythmself

rigau/don/dons/dons/donself, rigauself, or rigaudonself

ro/coco/rocs/rocs/rocself or rococoself

ron/do/rons/rons/rondoself

rou/round/rous/rous/roundself

scher/zo/scher/(schers/scherz)/scherzself or scherzoself

sere/nade/ser/sers/sereself or serenadeself

sing/sing/sings/sings/singself

so/nata/nas/nas/sonaself or sonataself

so/sohs/sohsself

so/sol/solo/solo/soloself or self

so/sop/sopra/sopran/sopranoself

sona/tina/sonas/sonas/sonaself or sonatinaself

song/songs/songself

sui/suite/suites/suites/suiteself

sym/symph/phons/phons/symphself, phonself, or symphonyself

te/ten/tenor/tenors/tenorself

te/ten/teo/teno/tenorself

temp/tempo/temps/temps/tempoself

theme/theme/themes/themes/themeself

ti/tir/tri/trio/trioself

ti/tis/tisself

timb/bre/bres/bres/timbreself

tre/treble/tres/tres/trebleself

trill/trills/trillself

tu/tti/tus/tus/tuself or tuttiself

tu/tune/tunes/tunes/tuneself

voi/voice/voice/voices/voiself or voiceself

wal/waltz/altz/altz/waltzself

+ i have classical music pronouns here!

[brax-was-here]

Scarlet Briar: The Seeds of Life Chapter 2

Chapter 2: You Don’t Control Me

Sometimes life is full of surprises

Something was tickling her nose, and Ceara instinctively brushed it away before awakening suddenly. She quickly glanced around at her surroundings. Plants and trees surrounded her in every direction.  Looking down at herself, she realized she was lying naked on moss-covered ground. She immediately stood, almost losing her balance in the process.

“Where…where am I?” The lush of vegetation of the jungle stretched out all around her. The air, thick and humid, was filled with the sounds of the jungle’s animal inhabitants. Various exotic bird calls she had never heard before echoed through the canopy that blocked out the bright sky. The sounds of chirping insects rose from the ground level, some spreading their wings and taking flight, flittering about the various plants.

“No…this isn’t happening…not again.” she muttered. As she stepped forward, something snagged her foot tripping her, causing her to crash to the ground. She turned swiftly, glaring at the lone vine that caused her to stumble, withered and aged as it writhed through the damp moss.

“No…I beat you…” she whispered to it. Rumbling could be heard in the distance. She quickly got to her feet as the ground around her exploded. Numerous thorned vines of various sizes sprouted forth, whipping at her.

‘NO!” she screamed. She turned to run but she was surrounded. They knocked her to the ground, coiling around her body.

“NO! I beat you! You’re dead now!” She screamed with everything she had. “YOU DON’T CONTROL ME!” The vines stopped moving and slowly crystalized. She watched as tiny fissures formed throughout them. Within moments they shattered into a fine crystalline dust that filled the air. She dropped to the ground with a thud.

“You…you’re nothing now…” she muttered, catching her breath. Slowly she got to her feet, brushing the dirt from her. She glared at the path that had opened before her as the dust slowly dissipated in thousands of tiny sunlit sparkles.  

She cautiously followed the path forward as it twisted and turned through the jungle’s foliage. She would catch images in the trees, but when she focused on them, they would disappear.  She took pause as a playful giggle was heard on the wind.

“You’re nothing.” Ceara spoke loudly. “Come out now. I am not afraid to face you.”

“But I’m in your head…” the playful voice mocked her.

“No. No you’re not.”

“But don’t you want to play?”

“I’m through playing.” Ceara marched forward along the pathway. It emptied into a clearing with the sun shining brightly in the area. Opposite of where she stood, a group of thorned vines had jutted from the ground, twisting and interweaving together, forming a small crudely shaped structure. Ceara approached them cautiously. As she neared a small section of the vines parted, revealing a bright glow from the interior. The glow blinded her at first, but as her vision cleared, she gasped at what she saw. Floating in the air before her was an image of Avatar of the Pale Tree, her mother. But its face was different. Its appearance seemed like a child. Ceara stared at it for a moment before its eyes grew wide, its mouth opened in an inaudible scream as a blade of dark energy seemed to slice it down the middle. The blast knocked Ceara backwards. Quickly regaining her balance, she looked at the space where the image had just stood, but now it was replaced by a blackened black. A seemingly dark version of the sword Caladbolg. Ceara stepped forward ever so cautiously. As she drew near, the vines of the sword started writhing, launching themselves at her.

Ceara awoke with a start. She was curled up in a ball laying on the makeshift cot in the community tent. The light of the morning sun was piercing through small openings throughout the leathery canvas ceiling of the structure. She stared out of the open side of the tent, the far cliff walls painted bright reds and oranges by the rising sun.  Other visitors to the camp were slowly stirring awake as well. Sitting up, her mind wandered to the dream she just experienced.

“Could it be?” she asked quietly.

“Could it be what?” she heard Liathlas ask from the cot next to her. Ceara turned to see the dark skinned sylvari looking at her.

“It’s nothing. Just…just a dream.” Ceara replied sharply, turning to stand from the cot, stretching as she stood. “This cot was the most uncomfortable thing I have ever slept on.” She complained while strapping on her shoulder armor. She locked her gauntlets on and grabbed her rifle, slinging it over her shoulder.

“It is a centaur camp. Did you expect a lush bed in a fancy part of Divinity’s Reach?” Liathlas remarked, sitting up from her cot. Ceara seemingly ignored her as she started making her way out towards the sunlight.

“We should get something to eat before heading out.” Liathlas suggested as she stood and stretched. “I do believe there is a merchant here at the camp.”

“Perhaps.” Ceara said as she stepped out into the morning sun. She scanned the area noticing an asura with what seemed a small booth of simple foods.

“There.” Liathlas pointed as she walked up beside her. Ceara nodded. The asura took notice as the duo approached.

“A lovely morning to you lovely ladies. What can I do for you?” he asked, wiping his hands with a stained cloth.

“Yes! We’d like to make a purchase!” Liathlas expressed excitedly.

“Excellent! I will say I am sorry for my low volume. My source seems to be running late, which is quite infuriating.”

“It’s quite alright.” Liathlas assured him as the pair looked over the vendors wares. A myriad of fruits and vegetables accustomed to being grown in the desert heat, some breads, and casks of water.

“Not much of a choice here.” Ceara remarked, grabbing a couple desert pears, and a small canvas bag filled with jojoba nuts. Liathlas grabbed some fruits as well, and a small bag for herself. Ceara handed the merchant some coins, noticing the dry skin of the asuras hands.

“You’ve been here awhile.” She commented.

“Indeed, I have.” He replied. “Not many people supply food along the trade routes in these areas. Plus, I don’t think many people prefer centaur delicacy.” He remarked, placing the coins in a small pouch in his belt. Ceara nodded lightly.

“Well, good luck in your travels.” He said to them as they turned to leave.

“What’s on your mind, secondborn?” Liathlas asked Ceara as they walked towards the gate of the camp. “You seem to be preoccupied.” Ceara glanced at Liathlas as she bit into one of the pears.

“It’s nothing. Just thinking about the trip ahead.”

“It will take us a day at least to reach the pact camp.” Liathlas mentioned. “Maybe we could ask the centaurs to take us there?”

“It’s worth a shot.” Ceara replied, stopping. “It will save us some time.” Asking around the inhabitants within, it wasn’t long for them to find a pair willing to take them northward into the Silverwastes area of the desert region.

A few hours passed as the centaurs had taken Ceara and Liathlas as far as they would through the canyons to the desert regions to the north. The Silverwastes was a stretch of arid rocky desert terrain that once was part of the jungles of Maguuma. Over the centuries, the thick jungle vegetation gave way to the creeping desert sands. The pair continued their journey as the canyons slowly turned into a rough desert terrain filled with great buttes and mesas standing tall above the desert floor. Giant thorned vines marked the terrain, remnants of the jungle dragon Mordremoth’s advancement on Tyria. Now they lay dry and gnarled by the desert air. The life gone from them when the dragon was defeated.

“Do we really need to visit Camp Resolve?” Ceara asked, taking a drink from her canteen as they passed under a high arcing vine. Liathlas picked up on the reluctance in Ceara’s voice. “And why couldn’t the centaurs have taken us all the way there? And furthermore, are we even heading in the right direction?”

“Secondborn, of cour-“ Liathlas cut herself off as the duo spotted a set of creatures on a ridge in the distance. Ceara recognized them immediately.

“Mordrem.” Ceara whispered. “Thorns...”

“Indeed. We’ll need to be cautious.” They circled around the area in a wide berth, using the rock filled terrain as cover.

“Somethings not right here…” Ceara muttered.

“What?” Liathlas whispered back. Ceara unshouldered her rifle.

“We’re not alone.” They heard a slight rumbling in the ground before them. “Run!” Ceara shouted. The ground exploded behind them as the pair turned and bolted away. A great screech pierced the air as the sounds of heavy footfalls galloped behind them. Ceara turned in time to see a creature of Mordremoth leap at her, raising its giant pincer-like arms in the air. Ceara dodged out of the creature’s path, bringing her rifle to bare. Pulling the trigger, a thunderous boom was heard as the ley energy powered the projectile through the barrel. The shot severed one of the creature’s pinchers from its body, causing it to screech in pain. Liathlas, who had managed to teleport to a ridge slightly above, brandished her staff and motioned for a set of illusions to appear around the beast. They proceeded to attack it. Bewildered, the creature lashed out at the illusions as Ceara fired another shot, hitting the creature in its head. It dropped immediately. Their victory was short lived as more of the plant-like beasts started erupting from the ground.

“Run!” Ceara shouted. Liathlas opened a portal that Ceara dove through, appearing on the ridge next to her. The creatures approached quickly, climbing the side of the rocky incline to get to their prey. The duo turned to run, only to be stopped by a giant flower-like creature with long tentacles hovering in the air before them.

“Really!?” Ceara said disbelieving. It approached fast, lashing out at them. They both evaded the attacks as Liathlas launched a mystic bolt at it, and Ceara firing her rifle. Both attacks landed on their marks, injuring the creature. It growled in pain, as it turned towards Ceara. More rumbling was heard as the ground seemingly started to shift.

“Oh no…” Ceara muttered looking at the sand, which was shifting before her. “Please no sand worms…”. Liathlas conjured more illusions to attack the floating creature, seemingly oblivious to what was happening. The other mordrem started cresting the ridge, standing ready to chase down the sylvari. As they started moving towards the duo, rumbling filled the air as the ground cracked open. Sand shifted and before they knew what was happening, the pair found themselves falling uncontrollably. Liathlas quickly grabbed Ceara’s arm and opened portal after portal falling through each, quickly placing the each one farther and farther away from the falling debris, until they finally tumbled out of the last portal across the sandy ground. The thunderous crash of the limestone boulders that had made up the ground above echoed through the air as the pile smashed into the sandy ground, throwing sand and debris in every direction. Ceara stopped rolling, laying on her back, her ears ringing from the turmoil. She stared at the ceiling of an enormous cavern that lay under the sands of the Silverwastes.

Liathlas shakily stood on her feet, using her staff to balance herself. She stumbled over to Ceara and flopped down next to her.

“Are…are you ok?” she asked, her voice quivering.

“I’m going to lay here… until the world stops spinning, no matter how long it takes.” Ceara replied, steadily staring at the hole from which they fell.

“Ok.” Liathlas gasped before falling over, seemingly passing out.

Ceara laid in the sand as the silence of the cavern became deafening. She watched the steady stream of sand fall from the opening above. Her thoughts drifted to the dream she had the night before.

“Another pale tree…” she thought to herself. “Does it exist? Is it true?” She focused on the image of the younger looking Avatar that appeared in front of her before being cut down.

“What was that blade? A dark version of caladbolg? Has that tree fallen? To Mordremoth? Or to nightmare? Or something else?” So many questions passed through her mind. “I have to find the answers…” she thought as she slowly sat up.

“Well, this is quite interesting.” she said quietly as she scanned the distant darkness. She pulled out her small lantern and set it on the ground in front of her, then proceeded to check her equipment for any damage from the fall.

“Well, everything seems in order.” She sighed, checking the barrel of her rifle. She started returning everything to their appropriate satchels. “Now, how do-“

“Shinies…” a rough voice growled in the darkness. Ceara rose to one knee instantly with her pistol drawn, holding the lamp in such a way that allowed the light to illuminate the area in front of her.

“Skritt?” she called out.

“You have…shinies…yes?” the voice asked. Ceara heard the sounds of movement against the rocks as a shadow darted away from the edge of the illuminated area. She quickly tried to follow the sounds, tracking them with her lamp.

“Give shinies to me…” it growled.

“Show yourself!” Ceara shouted. She heard more movement to her side. Turning, her light caught the creature perched on a nearby boulder. She gasped at what she saw. It was indeed a skritt, but not like any she had seen before. Its fur, discolored and full of mange, was covered in vines and small flowers.

“This can’t be real…” she muttered. The creature bared its teeth, hissing at her. It let out a loud screech as it launched itself at her. She instinctively fired a shot, knocking the skritt from the air. Hitting the ground, it writhed in pain. Ceara stood and cautiously moved towards it, her pistol at the ready. It turned and looked at her, the vines growing from its body, whipping back and forth.

“Shinies…” it growled one last time before Ceara shot it in the head.

“Even the skritt weren’t safe from it.” She said to herself glaring at the creature. Slowly she turned, shining her light around the area, scanning for anything else that might be a problem. Satisfied nothing else was out there she slowly made her way back to where Liathlas lay in the sand.

“I guess we’re stuck here until you decide to wake up.” Ceara sat down next to her, taking out the small packet of nuts she got from the centaur camp.

It wasn’t long before Liathlas stirred awake.

“Good morning, princess.” Ceara said as she closed a panel on one of her gauntlets.

“Ow…” Liathlas groaned as she slowly sat up. “What happened?”

“You saved the day, don’t you remember? Sadly…you didn’t return us to the castle.” Ceara stood. Liathlas looked up at her as Ceara extended her hand to help her stand. Liathlas glanced around.

“Where are we?”

“A cavern under the sands. We had an interesting visitor while you slept.”

“A visitor?”

“Yes.” Ceara moved over to the corpse that lay not far. Liathlas trailed behind her slowly.

“Is that…a skritt?” Liathlas gasped.

“Indeed, it was. Killed and resurrected by Mordremoth it seems.”

“Oh my.”  Liathlas said apprehensively. “Are there others?”

“None that I have seen…so far. We should get moving before anything else decides to pay us a visit.”

“But where do we go?” What direction?” Liathlas asked, rubbing the back of her head.

Ceara sighed as she pulled out her waypoint device. All of the closest waypoints she had stored were all back in the direction she had travelled.

“Thorns…” she muttered. She looked around the cavern, feeling a slight breeze in the air. She turned to the direction it seemed to be originating and pointed. ”That way.”

 The cavern seemed never-ending as the pair made their way through. Ceara using her lamp to illuminate the way. The end of Liathlas’s staff also glowed to help assist in lighting the cave.

“It seems to go on forever.” Liathlas stated. “Do you think we’ll ever get out?”

“We will. The breeze moves. Something is disturbing it. And hopefully we’ll find out what that something is.”

“I hope so.” Moments passed before Liathlas spoke again. “Ceara?”

“Hmm?”

“What is it you seek in the jungle?”

Ceara paused a moment, images of her dream quickly flashed through her mind. “Im looking…I’m looking for something important.”

“Well, I figured that. Won’t you tell me what it is?”  Ceara motioned for Liathlas to stop.

“What is it?” Liathlas asked quietly.

Ceara extinguished her lamp. “Dim your light.”

The light from her staff slowly faded. In the pitch darkness, the pairs bioluminescence glowed softly.

“Look. Far up ahead.” Ceara said quietly. There was a soft glow in the distance of the cavern.

“A way out?” Liathlas asked.

“Possibly. We should move quickly but be cautious.”

Ceara reignited her lamp. “Let’s go.” They quickened their pace. The ambient light of the cavern slowly grew brighter as they approached. It opened into a massive area with a pool of water in the center. The pair looked to the ceiling. In the distance, they could see structure, and small lights flickering about.

“Torches?” Liathlas asked.

“I think so. We need to get up there. Look around for anything that looks like a path!” The pair scrambled about searching along the rock walls.

“Here, I think I found something.” Ceara shouted across the cave. Liathlas rushed over to where Ceara was climbing over a pile of rocks. “There are stairs carved through here.” Liathlas climbed over the pile as well. They both stood staring up the incline. “Well, let’s go.”

It wasn’t long before one of the rock walls of the stairway gave way to the emptiness of the cavern.

“This is scary.” Liathlas muttered, glancing over the edge to the ground far below.

“Indeed. Who in Tyria would have made this?” The existing rock wall would soon start to show signs of previous habitation.

“Someone lived here?” Liathlas asked inquisitively. The pair stopped at the first door they found. An old wooden door connected by crude made iron straps showed little signs of deterioration in the dry desert air. Ceara slowly pushed it open, aiming her lamp inside. A simple room with no furnishing.

“Nothing.” Ceara said, looking over the room.

“Who would live in a place such as this?” Liathlas asked.

“I don’t know, but someone is here. Let’s continue.” The duo trekked up the stairs, passing more rooms like the first. Something fell past them as they continued the climb.

Liathlas brandished her staff. “What was that!?” Ceara pulled her pistol.

“I don’t know.” They slowly continued along the path upward.

“Too small, don’t need it.” They heard a meek squeaky voice higher up the stairway in the distance.

“Skritt?” Liathlas asked.

“I think so.” Ceara responded. They quietly crept along the route, slowly rounding a long curve as they heard more skritt chattering up ahead.

“This piece just right.”

“This piece in my room!”

“Bent metal. Good for support.”

Ceara extinguished her lamp as they came upon an area lit with torches. They found a group of skritt steadily searching through a pile of random wooden planks, bent metal and various other random items. Ceara stowed her lamp in her satchel, before stepping forward into the torchlight. The skritt turned to them.

“Visitors! This our pile! You leave now!” One yelled at the sylvari.

“We’re not here to take your things.” Ceara held her hands up in front of her. “We just want to leave this cavern and get back to the surface.”

“Oh, we take you! When Topsy-Turvy finished! We take you out of cavern!”

“Topsy-Turvy?” Liathlas asked as the pair looked at each other.

“Yes! Our ship! We build it! Soon it will be finished! And we leave! Sail to meet or brothers and sisters to the south!”

“Sail a ship? In the middle of the desert?” Ceara was slightly dumbfounded. “Where is this Topsy-Turvy?” Ceara asked inquisitively. “This is something I must see.”

“Come! Come! Follow!” One of the skritt started running up the stairs. Ceara and Liathlas hurried after him. As they rounded the bend, the two stopped, awestruck by what they saw. Indeed, there was a ship in the cavern. Precariously perched upside-down on ridges spanning the chasm. Skritt clamored all over it as they busily attached planks and random pieces of metal to the hull of the ship, chattering constantly as they worked. Ceara’s mouth hung open as she stood in silence.

“What…how?” Liathlas asked.

“I…I don’t…I don’t know…” Ceara said quietly, before busting out in laughter. “This is…this absurbly amazing, and…ridiculous at the same time!” She hurried up the rest of the stairs.

Liathlas followed grabbing her by the arm. “You shouldn’t berate them. They believe they can do this.”

Ceara snorted in laughter. “I’m not berating them. It’s just…I wish them well in their endeavor!” She said with a large grin on her face.

“Here! Here! Topsy-Turvy!” the skritt called out.

“I see…and you plan to sail this out of this cavern and across the sand?”

“Indeed! Here is plan!” he ran over to a giant board nailed to some makeshift posts. Various drawings and documents hung precariously by bend nails. Ceara looked over it all in amazement.

“This…this is…You actually have all this planned out?” she bit her bottom lip, stifling her laughter. She took a crude drawing of what she determined to be a plan to launch the ship out of the cavern. “I wish you good luck in your mission.” She said taking a deep breath turning to the skritt. “I think you will be able to make this happen. But my partner and I must be off. We have urgent matters to attend if you could show us a way out.”

“Yes! Yes! We will!” He ran towards another set of stairs. “Here! Here! Will take you up to surface!”

“Thank you kindly.” Ceara said to him. Liathlas waved to him as they started up the stairs.

“I can’t believe the way you belittled them.” Liathlas chided her.

“I didn’t belittle them. I simply wished them good luck in their impossible mission.”

“I could tell by the tone of your voice.” Liathlas criticized. “But still…how did such a ship even get into this cavern?” she asked perpelexed.

Ceara laughed as they continued up the stairs. “I don’t know.”  It wasn’t long before they saw hints of sunlight, as well as voices further up the incline.

“Do we really need to be here?” a woman’s voice was heard faintly.

“We were told to guard this stairwell.” A male voice returned.

“From what? The skritt?”

“You never know. Filthy rodents could end up stealing everything in the camp.”

“That’s unlikely.”

The sylvari once again extinguished their lights and crept up the stairs, settling low once they saw who the voices belonged to.

“Hmm…” Ceara thought to herself. “Krytan bandits.” She whispered.

“What do we do?” Liathlas asked. “I’m sure there are more of them outside.”

Ceara nodded. “Can you cloak with your abilities?”

“Yes, but not for long.”

“I have a plan. I’ll activate my own stealth shield and sneak past them. Once I get past, I’ll distract them, and you hit them when they aren’t looking.”

“Ok. Seems easy enough.”

“It’s a classic.” Ceara pressed a small button on her gauntlet and disappeared. She slowly crept past the guards, careful as not to brush against them. Once past them, she turned and shut off her field.

“Hello, pretties.” She said smiled at them.

“What the?” the male asked as he drew his sword, the woman pulled out a pair of daggers.

“Who in Tyria are you!?” the woman asked.

“Oh…really?” Ceara glared at them shaking her head in disappointment. “I’m so let down that brigands such as you don’t recognize the…” she sneered. ”Terror of Tyria.”

“What? You’re de-“ A field of eldritch energy appeared below the bandits feet, shocking them as a pair of Liathlas’s illusions made short work of them.

“Well, that was easy.” Ceara smiled at her partner. She knelt and checked the two. “Still alive, but I am sure they are going have a nasty headache when the wake.” She stood and looked at Liathlas. “Shall we?

“Let’s” Liathlas smiled back.

They neared the top of the stairway, the blue sky a welcoming site. But they also spied two more humans standing near the entrance to the cave.

“Who knows what lies ahead. Depending on what is out there, this could end very badly.” Ceara muttered. Liathlas nodded her head. They laid low on the stairway as they peeked over the steps the best they could. They found a small area with what looked like old mining equipment in major disrepair as well as a few ramshackled structures that looked as if they were about to collapse.

“This does not look promising at all.” Liathlas groaned. Ceara nodded in agreement. “Any plan?” Liathlas asked.

“We could go back and get the skritt. Tell them there is a pile of fresh shinies up here.” Ceara suggested.

“Are you mad!? That would surely send them to certain death!” Liathlas protested quietly. Ceara turned slowly, giving her a dirty look.

“What!?” Liathlas asked bluntly.

“Your choice of words hurt, Mesmer.”

“What are you talking about?” Liathlas replied. Ceara just shook her head and took a deep breath.

“Fine. We won’t get the skritt.”

“Can we just stealth ourselves out of here?” Liathlas asked.

“Would our stealth fields last long enough?”

“Hmm…but it might be our only chance. At least to get past these two guards so we can at least see if there is a way out of here.”

Ceara thought for a moment. “Ok…let’s do it.”

“Wait…” Liathlas grabbed Ceara’s arm.

“What?”

“How will we be able to see each other if we’re both cloaked?”

Ceara stared at her blankly before speaking. “Just…keep ahold of my hand.” She activated her stealth field as Liathlas cloaked herself. The duo crept up the stairs and hurried from the cave, ducking behind a pile of boulders nearby moments before their fields faded.

Ceara breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, first part is done.” They both peeked from behind the rocks. “I see the way out. Over there.”

“Ok.” Liathlas looked over the direction Ceara was facing.

“Too far for our fields to last.”

“What about illusions?”

“Can you project them that far?”

“I don’t think so.”

Ceara drew a deep breath as she tried to come up with a plan.

“Couldn’t you just shoot them with your rifle?”

“No. The noise would draw attention to us. What if…we stealth as far as we can, and as our fields wear off, you cast that stun field you have, and I’ll use my holograms to strike them. Should be quick enough to take them down and not draw any unwanted attention.”

“Ok.”

Ceara opened the panel on her gauntlet. “Ready…3, 2, 1…now.” She pressed the small switch and disappeared from view. Liathlas cloaked herself as well and the pair started their way towards the opening in the rock wall.

“Stun field now.” Ceara said quietly.

Liathlas’s eldritch field appeared below the guard’s feet, stunning them. Ceara’s stealth field waned and she summoned two holograms which attacked the bandits. Liathlas’s stealth cloak faded as well.

“WE GOT A PROBLEM OVER HERE!” a voice shouted from outside the wall.

“THORNS!” Ceara cursed as a handful of more bandits rushed through the opening. Liathlas summoned her illusions as Ceara quickly unslung her rifle and quickly fired a round at the oncoming group. The leyline powered bullet tore through them, dropping two instantly.

“What in Tyria was that!?” a woman shouted as she dove into the dirt. One of the bandits pointed his pistol and fired multiple shots at the sylvari. One round struck one of Ceara’s shoulder pauldrons, the other barely missed her. She instinctively pulled the trigger of the rifle, sending another charged bullet at the bandit. The round missed its mark, but the energy of the bullet knocked him off his feet as it passed.

“Fight fair!” another bandit yelled as he tried to fend off Liathlas’ clones. “Man to man…or whatever you are!” He slashed at the clones with a pair of knives to no avail. Liathlas heard gunshots behind them.

“More incoming behind us! Seems they heard our party!” she shouted.

“I figured that would happen. Get ready to run.” A bullet hit the ground next to Ceara. She spun around and fired another shot, causing the approaching group to scatter.

“Go now!” Liathlas bolted for the opening. Ceara activated her force field and ran behind her. Liathlas tripped and fell as the woman lying in the dirt reached for her ankle as she passed. Liathlas sneered at her and she drove the end of her staff into her forehead, sending a bolt of energy into the womans face. Ceara grabbed Liathlas by the arm and pulled her up and they headed through the opening and back out into the desert.

[cordeliaandnestastan]

HEROINES WHO BLODDY RUN STRAIGHT INTO BAT SH** CRAZY STUFF WITH NO PLAN OR INFORMATION PLEASE STOP!!!

Clary Fairchild and Feyre (from cour of thorns and roses) im looking at yoh two

FOR KNCE IN YOUR LIFE DRAW BACK COLLECT YOUR THOUGHTS AND GET. A. FREAKING. PLAN!!! PLEASE!!!

[ravenkinnie]

Who’s Sarah j maas?

she wrote throne of glass series and a cour of thorns and roses which are somewhat controversial for their quality lol pls watch cindys videos on them it's so funny

[love-booksandtea-blog]

Words had become as foreign and hard to reach as the stars.”

ACOWAR  releases in nine days !!!