#dont worry this does not lead to any kind of easy resolution or simple happy ending for Inrissa

[lilac-whump]

Nightmare's Shadow Part 5- One Good Thing

I'm on a roll and refuse to abide by a posting schedule. I post as parts get written so no promises about how long this streak will go. Heres a chapter with more whump in it!

Cw: torture, branding, shame, lady whump, fantasy whump

Previous / Masterlist

One Good Thing

Three Years Previous

Nevaeh was the only good thing that existed in the world.

Inrissa clung to the image of her smile, the memory of her soft touch, gripping it in her mind as pain radiated through her body. She closed her eyes so there was only pain and memory. The Silence emanating from the collar around her neck was impenetrable, no sound entered and no sound escaped. Even Inrissa’s own screams didn’t reach her ears. Like her screams didn’t exist. Because her pain only existed in her own mind and body.

A gauntleted fist slammed into Inrissa’s stomach, pushing all the air from her lungs and yanking her wrists against their chains. Pain. Everything was pain. This pain meant something, she knew that. They didn’t want her to close her eyes. They didn’t want to give her that escape.

Inrissa didn’t give them that satisfaction. She was used to pain. It was just a backdrop to her life, she didn’t have to give it the starring role. It didn’t have to be the most important thing. That spot was held for Nevaeh instead. Inrissa focused on the image of the human girl's long red hair, braided down her back, her freckles, her nose scrunched in a laugh. It didn’t matter if all of her kindness was confined to stolen moments amongst the oversight of Inrissa’s masters.

Even stolen breaths of joy and kindness could be treasured.

White hot pain exploded on Inrissa’s back, concentrated between her shoulder blades. A scream ripped out of her, as silent as ever, but painfully tearing at her throat and lungs. Her eyes flew open, stinging with tears. The image of Nevaeh’s face blurred against the agony.

Even in the suffocating silence, Inrissa could feel her skin sizzle and bubble under the heat she slowly recognized. It wasn’t as if this was the first time she had encountered a branding iron.

The brands on the soles of her feet had scarred over long ago, leaving the skin rough and numb. The numbness had taken years, years where walking had been agony, and the slightest irritation would send bolts of pain up her leg. At least she didn’t have to walk on her back. This brand wasn’t to keep her from running, it wasn’t to keep her docile and trainable.

So what was it for?

Inrissa blinked, trying to clear her vision. She couldn’t find the branding iron, it must still be behind her. Were they keeping it from her on purpose?

Shayla stood across from Inrissa, a smirk on the tall woman’s lips. Taunting her. Inrissa snarled at her, baring her teeth. It was futile, it would only earn her punishment, but she hated that woman. She always brought pain and mockery, drawing it out with her razorblades, tracing out scars like a twisted art form.

Branding wasn’t her usual style. What was going on?

Shayla snapped her fingers and sound rushed in around Inrissa, nearly deafening in its suddenness. Inrissa gasped and flinched, then scowled at Shayla once again.

“What…what did you..” Inrissa wanted to demand answers, she wanted to put anger behind her words, but her voice was so hoarse from screaming, and her muscles trembled from fatigue and a deep, instinctual fear of Shayla that it was all she could do to stammer out the question.

Shayla cocked a high arched eyebrow, cruel amusement glittering in her golden eyes.

“You know, I wondered if you would recognize it from feel alone,” she said, her voice dripping with toxic honey. “I guess that’s a no.”

Inrissa clenched her jaw and broke eye contact, looking away. Mostly to hide the grimace she couldn’t contain as the pain of the burn rolled through her in waves.

“Well, maybe you’ll get lucky,” Shayla said, walking close to Inrissa. “Maybe there will be someone kind enough to tell you. If you ask.”

Shayla turned and walked out of the room with that, her heels clicking on the stone floor. Inrissa watched her go, her heart frozen in her chest.

Shayla’s words sank into her like a knife. Shayla knew. They knew. They knew about Nevaeh, that she was kind to Inrissa. That there was someone who treated Inrissa like a person.

If Inrissa wanted to know what had been branded onto her back, she would have to ask the one person who gave her even a scrap of respect.

Shame curled through Inrissa like thick smoke. She wished she could curl up on the floor and bury her head in her arms, but she couldn’t move against the chains that still held her.

She understood now. Why she was being punished. Why she was branded with an unknown marking. Because her masters had realized someone was treating her with kindness. Someone had offered Inrissa a glimpse at happiness.

Naturally, she had to be reminded of what she really was. Not deserving of this kindness. Nowhere near an equal to the servant girl.

Inrissa was nothing.

—---------

Present

The city of Reklum unfolded around Inrissa as she tried to drink it all in. The buildings were almost all from chiseled stone, with a dragon motif present in almost all the decor. She supposed that was to be expected, the symbol of the Reklum Empire was a golden three headed dragon, and this was their capital city. So, they really loved dragons here.

And then there were the people. So many people. Just like the Elite Guard themselves, the people came in a dizzying array of variety. Humans, half elves, scaled dragonborns, aloof full elves, stout dwarves, tiny gnomes, and varieties Inrissa couldn’t put a name to. She scanned the crowds for anyone like her, the horns, the tail, the pupil-less mono color eyes, but found the crowds devoid of other tieflings. Her heart squeezed in her chest.

“My father will be expecting us,” Natala said, taking the lead of the group from Absalom. She caught Inrissa’s eye and nodded subtly.

“I’ll catch up with you after,” Inrissa said, slipping away from the group before anyone could object. Natala had given her one of the group's enchanted communication stones last night, so they could contact her to meet up when they were done.

It had taken them three days to travel from the Aren Glade to the expansive capital city, and Inrissa could breathe easier separating from the group. They had agreed to let her travel with and work alongside them, and Natala had offered a comforting kind of kinship to her, but Inrissa couldn’t relax as long as she was with them. Aside from the princess, none of them really trusted her. They allowed her presence as a courtesy, taking Absalom’s fathers word, but they were all waiting. All watching.

Especially Prometheus Firstforged. She bristled just at the thought, weaving through the crowds of Reklum. Her illusory appearance gave her comfort, anonymity wrapped around her like a security blanket. One thing it couldn’t hide, however, was her hatred for Prometheus and everything he had ever created.

Of course, his delicate ego couldn’t take that. He had spent the last three days making poorly guised attempts to get Inrissa to praise him or his work. Pointing out the fine craftsmanship of his weapons and armor, and the equipment he had crafted for his friends. It had taken all of her self control not to scream at him or stab him.

But the most important part of a hunt was the wait. She had to make her reveal at the correct moment. Not out on the road where there were few other people around, and where Prometheus lacked access to his forge. When she revealed herself to him, it would be with immediate access to the resources needed to remove the collar.

Once they had made their report to the Emperor, it would be a matter of hours. She could get him at his forge and finally find out who he was underneath the public mask. Would he willingly help her, or would she have to force the aid out of him? She was only marginally sure his friends had no idea about his involvement with the Society, if that were true, what would they think? Natala was her most likely ally, and she held a lot of power.

Inrissa shook her head and pulled her focus back to her surroundings. She had been crafting her strategy for weeks, another few hours wouldn’t change anything. Unless during those few hours she screwed up by not paying attention to where she was walking.

Tracking her path through the city, Inrissa tried to imagine herself living there. After all, the whole point of all of this was to, someday, just be able to live her life. Have a home where she felt safe enough to sleep deeply. Maybe even have friends. To never have to be reminded of her pain again.

The people around her looked so happy, so content. There were mothers holding children’s hands, crafters and merchants haggled over prices. The city was like a living being, and all of the people like drops of blood pumping through the massive veins. Existing. Living. Belonging. Next to them, Inrissa felt like a virus.

A flash of red hair caught Inrissa’s eye and habit pulled her gaze in a double take. She was already scolding herself- Nevaeh was dead, she had to stop looking for her around every corner- but she froze, staring at the back of the woman weaving through the crowd. She had caught only a glimpse of her face but it was the same face Inrissa saw in the mirror with her disguise. The same face she had worn since her escape, the first face that had ever shown her kindness.

Was it?

Was Inrissa just caught up in the hopefulness of the city?

Her feet pulled her forward after the woman. She had to know. She couldn’t live with herself if she walked away wondering. She picked up speed, her heart hammering against her ribs like it wanted to escape. Inrissa reached out, nearly within arms length of the other woman.

“Nevaeh?” she called out. The other woman spun and Inrissa choked on her breath.

Familiar green eyes narrowed in her direction, full of surprise, confusion, and suspicion. It was her. Alive. Right here in Reklum. How?

Before Inrissa could get any questions out, Nevaeh- it had to be her, right?- turned on her heel and darted into a side alley. Inrissa slipped in behind her, hope and terror warring in her veins.

Around another corner, Nevaeh spun to face Inrissa and drew a wicked knife. No one else was around, now. They were alone.

“Who are you?” she hissed. Her voice confirmed any doubt Inrissa might have had. “And what do you want?”

Inrissa stared at her. She wanted to ask her how she was alive, how had she gotten here, and a million other things. Elation swelled up in her chest. They had both escaped. They had both made it to the utopia that Nevaeh had first dreamed about. And against all odds they had found each other again.

Inrissa flicked her wrist and dropped the illusion. Let Nevaeh’s face fall away from her own and watched as shock and recognition washed over the face of her oldest friend.

“It’s me.”

Next