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robotslenderman · 6 years ago

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Think I’ve finally nailed down Mehra’s story in between getting exiled and ending up in the Dark Brotherhood.

Post-Morag Tong, she meets Quen and helps rebuild the Thieves Guild, going through the quests and everything.

She’s pretty highly ranked in the Thieves Guild except there’s a problem... she keeps killing people on jobs. This isn’t too much of a problem at first, but other thieves are like “The hell, Mehra?” She’s supposed to be a disciplined Morag Tong-raised woman, they don’t kill people they’re not supposed to. But she keeps doing it.

(Sometimes she swears she hears Velsa or Zeira or Quen telling her to kill someone, but it becomes quickly apparent to Mehra that that's... not actually happening. They wouldn't do that and then get mad at her for it. Not all three of them at once. Surely?)

Eventually she brings too much heat on the Thieves Guild and she’s asked to leave by Zeira. It's not a hostile kicking-out - it's a sad parting, and Mehra is understanding. She's secretly paranoid the whole thing was orchestrated, but she doesn't let herself resent them and just. Leaves.

Floats around for a while. She knows the DB is probably the only place left to go, but she doesn't want to. Still, she researches them. Stalks a few DB agents she runs into. Ends up tracking down and watching the Black Hand at some kind of Black Marsh ceremony where the Shadowscales are hatched. She's hiding in a basket, watching through the gaps.

When suddenly Nevusa (my headcanon Listener) opens the basket and, without looking down, drops a book on Mehra's head. The Night Mother, she says to the rest of the Black Hand, told her to do that, and then they leave.

it's the Litany of Blood.

Mehra ends up spending the next few months fulfilling it, because... why not? She doesn't have anything better to do. Meanwhile in the Kvatch Sanctuary they're boggled that an outsider has been chosen to do the Litany, and red spectral statues are appearing but the killer hasn't been recruited yet.

Eventually each pedestal is filled, but... still no killer. The Night Mother still hasn't told Nevusa where to find this killer. In reality, Mehra moves around too quickly to be reliably tracked down, so NM is still waiting for her to settle.

(Headcanon is that the Litany is only ever completed by future Listeners. So the whole Kvatch Sanctuary is especially apprehensive and excited because there's a future Listener out there, and nobody, not even Nevusa, knows who it is.)

Eventually Mehra hears about the DB presence in Kvatch, so goes there. She still doesn't want to join, but it's not like she has any other career options.

there's no Thieves Den there, so she relocates to Anvil.

By day she poses as a beggar, using the disguise to scope out houses. By night she cleans out houses and, occasionally, kills. Sometimes she just kills - she hovers on a roof, waits, then just drops on someone on an alley and stabs them in the back.

The DB eventually get wind that there's a serial killer in Anvil. The NM still hasn't said anything to Nevusa - Mehra isn't sleeping anywhere secure, but Nevusa wonders if it's their Litany killer and puts out feelers.

Nobody ever looks at Mehra twice. She's got horrific burn scars and she pesters people for money - people avoid her, they don't stare, so nobody notices her Tong tattoos, let alone anyone who'd recognise them. Mehra thinks it's hilarious, because the second anyone spotted her tattoos they'd quickly realise she's the killer.

But nobody ever looks, so they don't. She sticks out because she's very distinct as both a Dunmer beggar and one so badly scarred, but still people ignore her.

The killer is eventually active enough that the Kvatch Sanctuary actively investigates. Nevusa is pretty sure it's the Litany killer because the method of killing is the same as the Litany victims - as Nevusa found out when she out out feelers. A single knife to the back, right in the artery beside the spine.

Kvatch Sanctuary gets excited again because their future Listener is in the area and fucking up people for the lulz.

But they can't. Fucking. Catch her. There's never any witnesses, or survivors. Nobody acting suspicious at night (by DB standards, anyway). Remains-Silent, Venom and Mirabelle are brought in to try and find suspects - nothing. Elam is stationed at the Thieves Den full time to keep an eye out for potential hit men or freelance assassins - nada.

It doesn't help that Mehra got shy when they showed up, and stopped killing for a while.

Elam does spot Mehra in the TD occasionally and points her out to Nevusa as one of the more suspicious denizens of the TD, but she doesn't like to talk to Elam and her entire face stays covered, so he doesn't yet connect her to the scarred beggar.

Eventually things get quiet enough that Terenus gives Astara permission to pull everyone out of Anvil, so she does. Clearly, the litany killer has moved on.

And the fucking killings start up again almost immediately.

Cue DB facedesking. This time they just keep Mirabelle and Elam down there.

Mirabelle is a servant listening for gossip, working at the barracks. She's to report any progress the guards make on finding the killer, and to inspect the bodies whenever she can.

Elam is to stay in the TD and just get work. In game, IIRC, not everyone uses the Black Sacrament to get the DB's attention and if I remember right Elam is the one they contact if they don't. So in my headcanon Elam spends a lot of time in Kvatch getting work the old fashioned way. Well, now he's charged with doing it in Anvil and he's not allowed to come home until the litany killer comes with him.

So Elam spends time bored out of his mind, missing home, hoping nobody is messing up the Sanctuary too much, and getting work.

The TD is, for once, grateful there's an agent of the DB hanging around because the litany killer keeps picking off *their* guys, because who else is hanging out in alleyways at 3AM?

There isn't much privacy in the TD but he still has to give out work, and the thieves and pirates and so on give Elam as much leg room as they can.

Eventually his Brothers and Sisters start complaining their targets are dead before they can get to them. Elam has Mirabelle look into it, but still lets clients think the DB did it.

Mirabelle reports back that their would-be targets are getting killed by a single knife to the back.

Nevusa's reaction upon hearing about this: "Oh, for fuck's sake."

Elam's is to break down into laughter so hard he can't breathe.

The litany killer is now actively fucking with them and stealing their kills.

and they still don't have a clue who it is

Good news: this means the litany killer comes by the Thieves Den often enough that they eavesdrop on Elam's business deals, or at least enough to know who's pissed at who and who's planning on getting the DB involved.

Elam still thinks this is the funniest thing ever, but when the fences of the TD are notified they are Not Amused and start more actively working with the DB. They want the litany killer dead. The DB decide not to disclose that they're recruiting them.

The fences and the denizens of the TD do some fund raising and ask everyone to pitch in for a DB contract. At this point they've started calling her "Litany", since the DB have spread her moniker.

Mehra contributes a huge amount because she thinks it's just as funny as Elam does. They have the exact same sense of humour.

Those who know Litany stole the DB's kills no longer bother going to Elam and just stand in the middle of the TD and yell, "Hey, Litany, kill X for me!"

which she does

Some with a sense of humour start egging Litany to steal the underwear of someone they hate and stick it on the spire of the nearby Chapel.

She does this too

Litany is suddenly as popular for their sense of humour as they're hated for killing people's buddies.

Elam is like "our future Listener is *awesome*"

Nevusa doesn't know whether to be amused or exasperated.

Astara is Not Amused.

Then a break comes - someone fresh off a ship hears about Litany, and mentions it's similar to some killings in Hew's Bane. They're practically kidnapped and taken to Elam.

They tell Elam that they're a footpad from Abah's Landing, visiting some relative or other, and that some high ranking Dunmer in the Thieves Guild got kicked out for killing too many people while on the job. Mentions that she's a former member of the Morag Tong.

which... seems to fit Litany's MO. Nevusa is aware that *somehow* the Litany of Blood ended up in Litany's hands from Black Marsh, and the killings were done so professionally even the DB can't track them down. For it to be Morag Tong sounds right.

Cue Nevusa going to Abah's Landing, personally, to visit Zeira.

Who - if reluctantly - confirms that... yup, there was a Dunmer here called Mehra Adrano, former Tong. Liked to backstab people she shouldn't. Lovely woman, just... too stabby for the guild. Very lost after her exile from the Tong. Talked openly about how she thought she was going to wind up in the Brotherhood until the Thieves Guild took her. Zeira's surprised she hasn't ended up in there yet.

"We're working on it," says Nevusa. "We're finding it difficult to track her down."

Zeira gives Nevusa a description and as much info as she can. Nevusa does some research, uncovers Mehra’s backstory as Dralsea Sadri.

Nevusa returns to Anvil, where Elam and Astara still haven't tracked her down, and gives them Mehra’s description.

Elam is like "fuck, she's that scarred redheaded Dunmer?! I give her a few coins every time I buy my lunch! I talked to her like five minutes ago!"

They grab the Shadowscales and go to confront her...

Mehra’s sitting on her pallet, notices the Dark Brotherhood's Listener, Executioner, and a bunch of Shadowscales approaching her, and is like "and it only took you lot eighteen fucking months to track me down. Oh, by the way, here's your book back, Nevusa."

And the rest is history.

#Mehra Adrano #Dark Brotherhood #Morag Tong #ESO #TES #my OCs #long post

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royal-writer · 7 years ago

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Memories 9

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend”

Phoenix is a bit nutsy-coo-coo underneath it all. Yikes(TM).

I’m going to bed now I’m exhausted.

How was she supposed to thank someone she hardly knew? What was she supposed to say? Would a simple handshake do? A thoughtfully expressed notation in her words of gratitude? Was she supposed to offer a gift of some sort? Maybe it was none of those things; perhaps a favor owed instead and then she could be on her way.

Rubbing a hand to her still sore blood-stained side, Essätha cleared her throat. The figure’s attention turned towards her strangely. Their angles and shifts were rigid and stiff with each movement. A suggestion in their posture maybe that they’d forgotten she was still there; lost in thought.

Maybe she should have left them to it.

“Thanks for what you did back there.”

The young woman mumbled something. It was impossible to make out the words. Then, she finally spun around to look directly to Essie as she leaned back.

Within her iris, colors moved. Not with the shifting light of the moon, but rather twisted into new formations of color. Much like the movement of fire; shades of red, yellow, and orange randomly stirred into new formations around the black of her pupil. It added tints to an otherwise ashen dark gray rounded face marked with various interconnecting lines. Dormant like a volcano now; no longer spewing their red-hot glow like warm coals.

“Who are you?” the woman inquired; her voice naturally rough and sounding like crackling flames.

Essätha offered a thin, weary smile.

“Just a weary traveler, passing through.”

“Hildengard recognized you.”

The recollection of the name and what had transpired caused the Yuan-ti to sour. Her mouth turned to a grimace instead at the awful reminder. Such a foul, tainted name now in her head.

“Threw you under the carriage, didn’t she?”

Essätha shot the odd stranger a look. Watching as she scratched along the side of her head where her hair was trimmed so thin it was mere peach-fuzz. Somewhere along a jagged part, the stranger had allowed her hair to grow in fiery red strands cut short but flowing. Not simply a red-head, but a genuine glowing appearance that looked like a faded version of her fiery eyes.

“What gave you that impression?” she drawled with irritation.

A flash in the woman’s eyes. Hazardous and flickering like the whispers of tendered kindles ready to ignite.

“I think we have something in common here, little bird,” the enchantress voiced harshly, stepping closer.

Flexing her jaw, Essie looked the woman up and down. That strange, baffling light began to creep beneath the criss-cross veins across her skin once more. It wasn’t nearly as intense, but she was still aglow like a dim and dying campfire.

“What do you say?” the woman rasped; wisps in her tone. “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours?”

Essätha finally laid her eyes upon the woman’s once again. She allowed the question to hang in the air as she observed the strange phenomena of her dancing gaze and the movement beneath the dark lines.

“I’m going to need to know your acquaintanceship with Hildengard, and what you want, before I jump into any partnerships,” she replied. She knew exactly nothing about this blazing bonfire of a lady; save for the fact she could seemingly manipulate flames to her desires and had helped spare her life.

A smile; cruel and crazy, stretched over the woman’s face.

“Only if you’re willing to divulge a little yourself, little bird.”

What a strange, irritating nickname. Iridescent lines marking the imaginary expression of scales moved over areas of Essätha’s skin; startling the stranger to craft a wide-eyed look and cocked eyebrow.

“You ssstart,” she hissed short and smugly, placing both hands to her hips now.

The unsettling smile that curved over the thin-lips of the gray-skinned woman was one Essie found hard to trust.

But she reminded herself to keep an open mind. After all, she owed this dame a chance to barter her cryptic deal for not roasting her and scaring off those backstabbing bitches. She could afford to listen, if nothing else.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Phoenix didn’t seem like a real name. Or maybe it was. It was hard to tell if the Fire Genasi was pulling something out of her metaphorical hat or if her parents had been that infatuated with reviving fire birds. Hell, maybe she picked it out herself to replace a long ago name she no longer found fitting. No infliction of her voice hinted if it the name was a ploy to some secret, hidden identity.

Then again, Essätha chose to go by Escurcó this time. Easy to remember, and she could still insist on being called ‘Essie’ so not to confuse herself with a mixture of vowels and syllables.

If she wanted to be called Phoenix; real name or not, that was fine. She could respect such that wish. She’d called people stranger names in stranger places.

It mattered little to her if the fire bird remembered her easy-to-forget falsified name.

After all, it was just a sham to cover up the identity of someone inside she despised.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Puffed, airy laughter flowed out of the Genasi. With it, what appeared to be blackened fumes seemed to exhaust itself physically from the flickering cracks of fire that appeared to wash over her skin. It left a scent of smoke lingering in the air around her; wisps around her ragged clothes.

“Good work today, Essie!”

An artful smile bloomed upon Essätha’s face. It fit well with her cunning, sly gaze of light beige that gleamed out towards the tumbler held out to her.

She accepted it with a retracted snort of amusement. Her hand held it out steady as Phoenix clanked their mugs together. Some of the foam sitting on top of the liquid contents to slosh over the side and spill on to the dirt below.

A few swallows in, and the Yuan-ti finally lowered her ale to speak: “Not bad for sure, but I still don’t understand how you got those two lawman to follow you.”

“Oh, that was easy,” Phoenix reported smugly. “You’d be surprised what a bit of convincing can do.”

Essie wasn’t sure she wanted to know what that meant. She’d witnessed a few rare cases of corrupt constables; even one or two she tricked herself into being weaseled out to their fellow officers. She wasn’t the worst of villainy the world had to offer. When it was easy to call them out as the fakes they were, it made room for more truth and justice in the world. So long as she could continue to outrun it when the law came for her, she could handle to meddle a bit.

Taking another swig, another, sickening realization came to her.

Maybe it wasn’t a wicked lawman. Maybe it had something to do with…

She tried to push the idea out of her mind as she nursed her drink and chewed on the dried, leathery beef strips she was handed.

A little too much heart in someone who should have learned by now it was easier to have none at all.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Pain promptly manifested itself as a crash of thunder ripped over the city. It tore through the streets and roused people from their slumber. It rolled over Essätha in a thunderwave of fury as the bard wiggled their fingers and hoarsely exclaimed a few words through their bloody lips.

She might look frail, but she was a survivor. Determined not to be bow by any means; her state steely with resolve.

When you saw the world as she did, not much had the capability of taking you down.

Although her ears were faintly ringing and much of the litter around her had been thrown back, Essie brought up her hand and hissed a few words.

The mage hand slapped over the individual’s startled mouth in a boney grip.

Her eyes tore across the scene to where Phoenix was. An illuminated beacon of embers coursing over her as the fiery woman lashed out with spitting words to a familiar face. Pale, milky white skin; yellow hair now tangled and singed, light green eyes narrowed into angry slits. They were glaring furiously; refusing to back down from the sooty figure before her.

Barking a word, Phoenix pointed her middle finger and index to the woman for a blaze to roar to life around her in a hellish inferno.

Curving her mouth up into a relieved smile as Hildengard screeched and tried to flee, Essätha darted around the gorgeous brunette bard. Her hand flicked as the mage hand rose to poke the woman in the nostrils and eye as she passed; keeping her still momentarily distracted.

An arrow soared just behind her.

Twisting around, Essie bit out a few words and hurdled a slimy ball of acid at the hidden shadow off to her left. She hardly registered the startled cry. Running through the doorframe and to the closest crate against the wall.

She leaned over to scan inside. Just what she was looking for! They’d left it right in the open.

Triumphant, Essie hauled up the wooden box with a huff. Her belongings, mixed up with items she didn’t recognize. Maybe Phoenix would know who some of this crap belonged to and they could see to it delivered appropriately to any of the other misfits wandering the streets.

The figure that had been hiding in the shadows flinched and did nothing as she passed. An unconscious body of a young man lay off to the right, bleeding lightly. The bard no where to be seen as she breathed heavily; looking around for signs of a fight; signs of her ally.

A distant tender cry somewhere deeper in the streets. Too feminine to be Phoenix.

There was only a brief second of feeling torn. Looking down at her things; looking back at the unfurled chaos behind her.

She dug a fang into her lip and sighed.

Dashing down the nearby streets where some people had begun to peek out from their windows and doors, the Yuan-ti stashed her box behind the stoop of a building. Keeping her head held high; tasting the smell of smoke in the air and screams that lead her through the alleys and past lines of houses. Her shoes eating up the stone beneath her as she came to a faltering halt, tugging a dagger from her belt as the brunette whipped around to stare at her.

The words weren’t fast enough from the young lady’s lips when the blade connected with her lower thigh. She screamed instead, allowing herself to fall to one knee.

Essie sprinted past the brunette, leaning down to tug free her weapon with an agonized cry from the lass in response.

“Phoenix!”

There was no response from the fire bird woman. She seethed with rage; her anger unmatched as a glow like a torch moved around her. A small flame in her palm that she flung furiously at her enemy.

Hildengard easily side-stepped the move, sending the flames sweeping uselessly against the ground to putter out. Quick and nimble on her feet, she rushed forward quickly; knocking her fist in an uppercut directly against Phoenix’s chin.

Flicking the blade back, Essie chucked it with a sharp exhale.

Hildengard startled as it struck her side at the handle, looking towards her.

Oh, fuck. Kraw would be so disappointed.

It gave Phoenix, however, just the opening to bash her head into Hildengard’s chin and send her sputtering and staggering back, blood streaming from her mouth.

“I got the sssstuff,” Essie drawled, gesturing with her hand. “Let’s go, Phoenix.”

“I’m not done with her-”

“Another time!”

Her insistence caused the elemental master pause. She cursed lividly, taking a few steps back to cast another ball of fire within her palm. It danced intimately; gently, before she threw it down at Hildengard’s feet to send her scuttling backwards.

All the opportunity Phoenix needed to flee.

“Where are you cowards going!” the young woman cried after them; her voice broken in pitch. “Get back here and face me!”

“She’s going… to be… coming for… us…” Phoenix panted; followed by a maniac’s laugh.

It made Essätha feel queasy. Not the threat, but the unnatural laughter that followed her home.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She couldn’t sleep. Rolled up inside of her sleeping bag, looking over to the empty one sprawled out nearby knowing well Phoenix would not be there.

Her back was to her. Staring into the snapping, popping flames of the campfire. Whispers in a harsh voice of the common tongue. Damning, terrifying words and sounds. Things that sounded more like demonic praise of worship than prayer. Horrors of noise that made Abyssal sound like a heavenly form of speech.

Swallowing her nerves, Essätha flipped over to nestle herself deeper into the roll of fabric. Her hands moving up, cradling over her ears as she tried drowning out the noise.

“I will burn our enemies to the ground, master.”

“Please stop- please stop you’re too loud- hush- hush I’m begging you-”

“Yes… all will know the taste of Fire… they will bath in the Cleanse… Oh Mighty One…”

“We will annihilate the oppresses, Oh Mighty One… Hungry be thy beast…”

“Please stop- I- I can’t see- my left eye-”

Horrified beyond belief by the strange rituals and disturbing outer commentary to an unseen force, Essie buried her face against her sheets and muffled a distressed cry.

One time asking for an explanation had been enough. The haunting words still echoing in her head; hearing the almost double-voice of fear and adoration in Phoenix’s voice. She spoke with love and hatred of her Master, who she named Vecna. How he made her strong and brave and powerful; but the way in which she spoke it was like a mystified and terrified child staring into the eyes of their worst nightmare.

Her tone suggested he was a powerful being worthy of worship. It also said he was a powerful being to be terrified of.

Essie jumped, hearing the crackling flames scorch the sky as Phoenix desperately coaxed the flames to life. Even still, her grunts, murmurs, and hisses still growling out of her lungs.

There would be little rest to be had tonight.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Phoenix. Phoenix- are you there?”

Her faint requests went unanswered.

Swearing to herself, Essätha squeeze her serpentine body through the small space with difficulty. Having no damn arms would have made this a lot fucking easier.

As she made it through to the other side of the wall, she grabbed hold of her clothes and held it against her bodice. Her frame shifted; scales melted away from her shape as she dropped in stature by a few inches. The angular lines of her snout pulled in as her tail split into legs; the disturbing feeling of bones and muscles shifting that was still a bizarre otherworldly feeling after all these years.

Then she stood there. Nude for the darkness to hug, tugging her clothes on as quickly as she could.

Her boots scuffled against the floor as she shuffled through the ominous jailhouse. Groggy figures asleep in most. In one, golden eyes reflected staring out at her for a brief second as she passed.

“Phoenix.”

No response.

Dammit, where had they put her?

As she passed by another cell further down, she spotted the half melted remains of a lock.

Reaching out, she dared to tap the bars, wincing.

Still fairly warm.

A muffled shout came from the adjacent doorway. Essätha followed it quickly, prying open the door after a quick inspection revealed it to be cracked ajar.

It was a tight room. Only two heavy doors, with no other contents. It was meant for transferring prisoners in and out of confinement so they could be checked for weapons or lock-picking devices as the guards outside of this section of the jail gave up their prisoner to those who took charge within this sector.

Phoenix fell out from the room and onto the floor before her, gasping. Her hand glossed crimson as she held it to her chest where a protruding shortblade remained plunged inside her.

The guard’s eyes snapped up to Essie’s. A surreal union of blue and brown. Covered in lacerations and burn marks, his face ragged with exhaustion. A clear indication. A clear look of surprise on his face.

He lunged before words could form on her open-mouthed state of alarm.

A dagger was pulled from her waist towards the man’s gut as he fell into it.

He convulsed against her. The whites of his eyes large as his mouth gaped.

Sometimes you had to look death in the eye.

Shuddering, Essätha let the man roll with it and slide away to hit the floor. Her grip shaking as she held her shank, now coated in his blood.

Oh gods, did he have family to go home to? Was there someone waiting for him? Did he have kids? A husband? A wife? What would his friends think when they heard of what happened? What was in store for him? This couldn’t have really been what fate would design for a person, could it?

“Escurcó.”

She jumped. The name-not-name took a moment or two longer to register than her genuine one.

Peering down at Phoenix, Essie spotted the fire bird clutching her hands up at her.

“Help-”

Her mind and body ejected from each other. Closed off from feeling, the Yuan-ti mechanically knelt down to help the young woman to her feet.

“We have to take out the blade-”

“No, we leave it in until we find someone able to heal you or a health potion,” Essie murmured in a dead voice. “Otherwise you’re going to begin bleeding out an alarming rate. Do you think you can move?”

Phoenix looked pale. Unnaturally pale, for her gray skin tone. But she nodded; with her eyes less luminous than normal and the smell of grim on her sweaty flesh.

Wrapping an arm around the Gensai’s waist, Essätha murmured a few words of encouragement as she lead the woman back down the jailhouse cells. Maybe someone here would be able to help, and in exchange, she could see to their freedom. A few tries with her hair pin and a coiled piece of wire, perhaps…

Her eyes cast down upon the limp figure of the man. His mouth still open; his eyes now blank as he lay in his own slowly increasing pool of blood.

Maybe it would be okay, after they got out of here. But right now, disconnected from reality, she felt nothing every would be.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Another night passed by, unnoticed. A glorious day, with the sun rising high and not a cloud in the sky.

Muttering to herself, Essätha commanded of her mage hand to swipe at the pile of fruit in the market stall. The skeletal hand followed the command and gesture of her dancing fingers precisely; knocking aside a well-placed middle apple to send it and many other fruits scattering across the market square.

People diverted away from the scene. Some attempted to snatch the goods while the shopkeep screamed and hobbled their rounded body over to hunch and pick up their goods. Or, tried; as their thinner assistant was not nearly as winded as they came rushing from the back to give their aid.

While most eyes of the shops hooked themselves upon the ‘unfortunate accident’, Essätha swiped some potatoes, carrots, and onions from the adjacent stall left unattended as the neighboring gentleman came wandering over to help.

Across the lane, Essie spotted Phoenix ripping off strands of dangling sausages as more shopkeeps came out in sympathy and irritation to help the overweight man. Hoping to clear the way for foot traffic to once again line this area of the small market.

Before anyone spotted the duo, they melted unnoticed into the shadows with their loot.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“What was that?”

Phoenix gave her a sideways glance.

“Nothing, Essie.”

There was a particular grating tone to her voice. Wood devouring fire; smoldering, ominous.

She cast a look to the constable walking off with the pouch of coins. Tucking it under his waistband, a flash of his greedy toothy smile before he had turned the corner and was out of sight.

A glimpse to Phoenix, clutching tightly a strange looking, gnarled stick of sorts. It was only slightly tamed of it’s shape, and adorned a single red ruby at the end of what would be considered the hilt, considering it’s shaped edges.

Essätha frowned deeply to herself. Eyeing the direction the enforcer had taken, and then eyeing Phoenix once more as she discretely tucked the wand among the folds of her clothes.

Even without knowing the in’s and out’s, she didn’t care much for the exchange. Not one bit.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Her breath hitched. Stopped in her throat; the aroma of liquor and smoke muddling together.

“Phoenix, stop-!”

Darkness. A cloud of black billowed into the sky as she cast the flames upon her palm in an outstretched hand.

The distillery went up in flames. The rush of air buffed over them all, sending Essie on her ass as she stared in horror to the rapidly increasing fireball that stretched to the sky. Ash raining down upon her hair and skin to add flecks of gray and black, with embers scorching her clothes in the dead of the night.

She could taste the burn and soot in her mouth and in her lungs. She could feel the heat burning her skin as the flames raged on and ate everything in their path.

There was no sign of Hildengard or anyone else.

Horrified screaming filled the air, and her eyes were brought to the stranger running wildly with flames eating upon their side.

Placing her palm to the ground, Essätha shoved herself up from her sore rear to run to the man. She connected with him; sending him falling to the ground as she doused his flames with her cape. Smothering him; rolling him from side to side as he cried out with agony.

The side of his face was nothing but boils and melted flesh. Blackened and charred; flaking away to reveal the raw red beneath.

Much of his clothes, similarly, was fused or burned from his right side.

“Oh gods, oh gods- oh gods please kill me!” the man choked, his eye swiveling sickeningly in his damaged socket. Clumps of what remained of his hair fell away from the side of his face as he looked up with pleading.

She was shaking.

“D-Don’t worry, sir, I’ll get you some help-”

Further screams filled the air. Frightened people in the streets; dying people inside the distillery meant to guard it for the night.

The agonized shrieks of people burning alive.

The smell of charred flesh.

Essie’s stomach pitched and rolled, looking down with horror as the man feebly groped at her chest.

“Miss, please-” Raspy, a request as he tried grabbing for her dagger.

She flung herself away from him, tearing free her cape covered with blackened ash and pieces of his flesh. Desperately searching the area, and spotting people standing outside of the gates and trying to scale them to help.

Phoenix stood still. Her frame a silhouette matching the flames. Aglow, with sinister eyes and a disturbing smile as she curled her left hand out. Her right hand holding the wand extended.

Even with her fire resistance, her left hand was burning into a steady decay.

The collapsing structure of the building began to tumble. The shape of a skeletal form trying to flee the scene stopped dead in it’s tracks and fell to the ground.

Essätha reached out to the sobbing man, trying to soothe him as gently as she could. Praying, hoping to see some sign of life. Gods, let someone else be alive; let more people make it out of this dreadful mistake.

Only howls in the night fading away answered her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She was gone, after that night.

Not a goodbye. Not a farewell.

Her name never given, never needed to be returned. Her things taken up and this life left behind.

Phoenix could only stare hauntingly at her mangled hand. Justified in her actions; having finished the war with her enemies.

A man lived to see another day. And although the recovery would be agony; months later, he would come to remember that face drenched in shadows and softened concern with the fondest memory of gratitude. A flashback he would pass on to his fiance; a reflection he would one day tell his children. A recollection about one kind stranger; one lonely maiden, saving his life the day the god’s themselves tried to bring him home.

And she had said no, and dragged him back to life.

And he didn’t even have a name to praise her by. Only a face. A changed man, living a better, more trust, more honest life.

#eci artz #Essie rw

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