#how many pit fiends can Regill take on at once? 3 if it means protecting his kid

[silversiren1101]

For the sensory prompt, The moment when reality starts to make sense again?

You didn't specify who and so Shelyn was invited to zap me with the most explosive idea. I cannot stress that I've been thinking of this for like a week now.

TW: Blood and canon-typical violence from a child's perspective.

Everyone say hello to Jesyll.

WHAT IT MEANS TO BE BRAVE - PART 1

She can't move. Her arm and leg hurts and she's scared, but she can't move. Her father told her to stay hidden and though she usually loves trying his patience, it's the last thing she could ever do right now. She likes to see him annoyed because he hardly reacts to much anything else but right now he's on the ground and has been for too long and there's blood and she's scared.

She peeks out from the broken street-level window of the basement he'd shoved her into when the monsters had appeared around them and while she knows it's a good thing the monsters haven't moved or gotten up, she doesn't know why her father hasn't either. He's facing away where he’s lying so she can't see his face but she can see his tattered purple cloak starting to turn red and she doesn't know what to do. He'd told her to hide. He'd told her to stay quiet and not come out until he came for her but he never did. Her little mind blurs his face from the memory even though it was only just minutes ago, keeping her from seeing just how scared he had looked, for just a second, because he never looked scared ever and so she simply just can't remember it that way no matter how recent it was.

Dad didn't get scared. Not like that.

Still, she knew to listen this time because she'd messed up by grabbing that whatever it was that'd brought them here and those monsters had appeared so suddenly after. Everything was bigger than they were as gnomes and that wouldn't ever change no matter how old she got, but the monsters were bigger than even Uncle Trever and so she'd known to listen to her father just this once. She'd hid among those dusty crates, hands planted over her ears to keep out the noises of the monsters and her father fighting them, her tail curled around her in a tight hug... but it'd been quiet for too long and he hadn't come to get her afterward like he said he would.

Now, she looks out across the cobblestones level with her golden eyes, so much like his, where she's perched on a stack of crates she'd scraped herself climbing up and she doesn't know why he isn't getting up. Why? He's strong! Not as strong as Mom, she knows that, but he's a hero and can do anything. That's not his blood coming out of his armor, its the monsters’! It has to be the monsters’.

Big tears burn at her eyes like Mom’s gotten soap in them again during bath time, and her lip wobbles but she dares not make a sound. Even as she wants to call out for him, she can't, terrified that if any sound comes out more of those monsters will appear and she doesn't know what will happen then. He'd told her to stay quiet and hidden and it may be the first time she does exactly what he wants without being difficult.

All she can do is sink to her knees, quiet as a mouse despite how much she’s shaking and how badly she wants to cry out for him and her mother. Where is she? Why hasn’t she come to save them yet? She knows Mom is away, in some other city or country doing her job talking to people, but she also knows Mom can appear wherever she wants, so why hasn't she come yet? Mom is stronger than anything and she knows Mom can fix this and get them home and she can forget this happened and be back to pulling at her father's cloak and hiding his reports and quill and annoying him like she loves to do so much... Dad can call for Mom whenever he wants in his head and right then little Jesyll tries her hardest to do it too but she doesn't know how. She might not be able to make a single peep right there as she huddles against the cellar wall on that splintered crate, but in her head she's crying loudly, screaming for her mother to appear and save them both.

It's too silent and still, no matter how loudly her thoughts cry. The place they'd appeared in doesn't seem to have any people around and no one comes down into the basement wondering why she’s there or out into the street. It looks like a town, or was one, but there's no one else here and the buildings are falling apart and it's so quiet. If only she hadn't taken that whatever it was from his hands, but she'd been so curious and he wouldn't let her see it. She'd done it anyway because she liked doing the opposite of what he said and then everything had gone bright with light and it'd felt like her stomach had fallen right out of her to the floor before she'd blinked away the bright spots in her eyes to see they weren't in their castle anymore but this new place.

Then the monsters showed up. So big, with massive wings and horns and covered in fire and red skin like a lizard's... Not dragons. Something else, standing on two legs like a person but with such a mean look on their faces. Dad seemed to recognize what they are.

Was that why he'd been so scared? No! He hadn't been scared... he hadn't...

She hugs her knees tightly and wraps her tail around them, hugging herself because no one else is here to. What is she supposed to do? She's only six and she's so small. She couldn’t even drag Dad to the safety of this basement if she could work up the courage to. She could barely climb up these crates and even then she'd hurt herself doing that - tearing up her clothes and getting splinters and scrapes in her skin. Her knee is bleeding and she can see some old wood has cracked through some of her periwinkle scales and she wonders if mama will be upset about that too and her clothes and the thought only makes her more scared and upset. She’s messed up so bad this time and she can’t fix it. Her father is hurt and it’s her fault. She’s hurt and it’s her fault. Her mom and dad are strong heroes, why isn’t she too? She tries again and again to think of her hands wielding light and magic or anything she's seen her parents do but nothing happens. The helplessness and regret is so unfair and terrifying but she doesn’t have the words for it at this young age.

All she knows is that she’s messed up and she can’t do anything about it even as much as she wants to. She can only cry silent tears and hug herself on that crate too afraid to do anything else, her little fingers anxiously plucking at the feathers on her tail tip the same color as her mother's.

In reality, only a few minutes pass, but for a child who has only been around so long, time passes slowly compared to an adult. Each minute is precious and long, though in this case, her mother thinks the same as her and feels the weight of every minute passing with despair. Only when the ten minute mark hits—how long a teleportation spell takes to cast—after her and her father were brought here does she suddenly feel that popping in her ears and the feeling like a breeze around and in her, and she recognizes that telltale sign she associates with Mom coming home. She doesn't pull herself to her feet to look back out the window but she can hear it her just fine… and it makes her hug herself and curl up harder.

Mom cries out and it sounds so scared and sad and angry. There’s a heavy thud of metal against stone and then metal against metal and Jesyll can hear her mom’s voice through the broken glass of the window.

"—No! No, no, no, no, no! Wake up dear, please! Wake up! I've got potions, it's going to be okay. Please just—!”

She hears what sounds like the start of a sob but it cuts off early. Another bolt of fear cuts through her as she worries more of those monsters have appeared and will put her mother on the ground now too and she's too scared to stand up and see, because what if they hear? What if—

"Jess!" Mom calls out instead, but still she's too scared to let go of where she's hugging her knees and come out. "Jess, please! Where are you?! Jesyll! Mama's here, please come out! Please!”

Her mother says it’s okay but she hears the fear in her voice and can’t move. She’s still so scared, and hearing Mom so upset about Dad who she still hasn’t heard say anything at all reminds her that this is her fault. For the first time ever, Mom might actually be mad at something she’s done and for some reason that's what keeps her frozen still even though all she wants is to be held and to go home.

Dad doesn’t get scared, but he did this time. Mom doesn’t get upset, but she is right now.

None of it makes any sense, and Jesyll doesn’t know what to do. This is all so much. She just wants to undo what can’t be undone and she wants to open her eyes to find she’s asleep in bed or on the couch in her father’s study or the one in her mother’s music room.

She especially doesn’t know what to do as a pink glow pierces through her eyes squeezed shut, and she opens them to find she is still very much in that dusty basement but now she’s glowing with the same light that sometimes appears in her mother’s eyes when she’s doing magical things. She raises her little arms to look at the glow only to cringe as her elbow shoots a spike of pain through her and it hurts like when she fell out of that tree and fell on her arm a few months ago. A whimper escapes and she clamps her other hand over her mouth in terror because the cellar door at the top of the stairs suddenly opens and she just knows it’s another monster and it’s going to hurt her because her mom has to save dad too and she doesn’t know where she is—

“Jess!” Her mom’s voice cries out in relief. “Jess, baby!”

Footsteps thud heavily as Mom practically leaps down the stairs, and Jesyll realizes it’s not just because she’s in her armor but because dad is slung over her shoulder too. Her teary golden eyes move from the relief on her mother’s face, to the matted red patch in her father’s purple and silver hair next to it, and then to the eye.

She can’t help but press herself flat against the wall on impulse. It’s always creeped her out, the eye in the center of her mom’s magic crown. Her mother rarely makes it appear, usually only when she’s done something bad and needs to know the truth she won’t tell them. The eye in the center follows her without blinking and she’s cried from it a few times because of how creepy it is being beneath its gaze, and this time is no exception.

A little sob escapes her even as happy as she is to see her mom because she knows she’s messed up and the crown is out too so she definitely has messed up. She can see her father covered in blood and laying so limply and she knows Mom is angry at her and he is going to be so angry too and the thought of it scares her somehow more then the monsters. They don’t get mad at her, only annoyed.

But they don’t show fear or upset either, and she’s learning all too much and fast at once that that isn’t the case at all anymore.

Her mom stops as she sees her react, and her expression changes from relief to something like sadness or hurt that only makes Jesyll feel worse. Mom’s lips open slightly as she hesitates mid reach for her, but then the pink glow fades as the crown does too, taking the scary eye with it. Her mother slowly crouches and lays her father on the ground and he looks so pale which she knows is bad for their kind and she can’t help but gush another wave of tears at that. Her face hurts as it screws up from the fear and how hard she’s trying to keep the sobs at bay but suddenly there are hands there wiping at her wet scaled cheeks and pulling her in close, and she falls apart all at once sobbing loudly into her mother’s neck and crying out mama over and over again.

She tries to throw her hands around her mother’s neck only to whine in pain again and her hurt arm to fall limp. All she wanted to do was put her hands in Mom’s soft neck feathers! She cries louder, and she feels her mom tense and hears her breath hitch upon her whimpering before a fresh chorus of reassuring shooshing tries to drown out her sobbing. She holds her and presses their cheeks together, letting their scales—Mom’s opal ones and her periwinkle ones—slide against each other as Jesyll feels fingers thread into her neck feathers instead.

“Jess”, Mom starts, and she notices how strange she sounds. Her mother sounds serious in a way she’s rarely heard before, the sadness and fear completely gone now. How did she do that? More of those powers she didn’t seem to have despite being her kid. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I just had to find you. I know you don’t like it when mama brings out her crown but—”

She’s pushed away slightly so Mom can look into her eyes and there’s such a determined and brave look on her face, and she knows this is the hero people have always told her her mom is. Those violet eyes are no longer glowing bright pink but their normal color, and there’s a smear of blood on her scaled cheek that makes Jesyll wonder if there’s blood on hers, but still there’s such a feeling of ‘hero’ to her and Jesyll feels a little bit of awe. Her mom wipes away at her little eyes again and leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead like she often does and it’s like a bit of comfort transfers from her lips right down to Jesyll’s stomach. Mom hugs her with her lips still to her head before drawing away again to look eye to eye, making Jesyll feel strange—it’s the same look Mom gives to people like Uncle Yaker when they’re talking about important, adult things.

“It’s going to be okay, okay? I promise it is.” Her mom speaks to her too like she’s a big responsible adult and Jesyll doesn’t get it. She’s so scared. “Mama has to do a few more scary things to make that happen and she needs you to be brave right now. Both of us need you to be brave.”

She stares at her mom and then down at her father on the floor who is breathing so heavily and still hasn’t woken up. Be brave? Doesn’t Mom know she doesn’t have any powers like them? She can’t be a hero or brave. How can she be a hero when Dad was supposed to be one too and he’s so hurt right now!

She starts to shake her head and bites at her lip before crying again in earnest. “I can’t! I’m sorry, Mom, I can’t!”, she blubbers through another wave of ugly, wet sobs. “I’m not like you and Dad! I can’t do what you do no matter how hard I try! I tried to call for you and tried magic but nothing works! I cant! I can’t!”

Mom keeps staring at her, and she expects her to get angry and for the crown to reappear because Jesyll does want to help and do what she’s told this time but she just can’t and she’s not sure if Mom understands that. But Mom, of all things, gives her a slight smile. There’s such warmth and love in her pretty violet eyes as she wipes at her tears again and Jesyll then feels her mother’s tail, so much bigger and thicker, coil with hers where it’s hanging off the crate. It squeezes tightly and holds them together like when they’re walking someplace as other moms do with their kids’ hands, because she’s too small and Mom too big to hold her hand without hunching—something only they can do.

“Oh, Jess… of course you can be brave. You can do what we can because you’re our little girl, you just need to know the secret.”

Her chin lifts at that. There was a secret this entire time? Why hadn’t they told her! She could have helped with the monsters if she had known before! Maybe Dad wouldn’t have gotten so hurt if she could have helped him!

“What…”, she wipes at her tears with the back of her little fist and sniffles. “What’s the secret?”

Mom lets go of where she’s holding her cheeks and reaches down to the pouches around her waist. She pulls from one a vial filled with red liquid, and Jesyll recognizes it immediately as a healing potion. She’d had to take one after hurting her arm from that tree and it’d tasted awful and made her gag but it’d made the pain go away and her arm work again.

“First, I need you to take this”, her mom says as she uncorks it and offers it to her.

Jesyll’s gaze falls down to Dad and her mom reads her thoughts right then and there. “Dad is going to be fine, okay? I have more, so don’t worry. I just can’t take care of him until I know you’re okay and you’ve become brave for us.”

Her golden eyes go wide. There’s no way he is going to be fine! There’s red spreading across the floor and he would’ve woken up by now, otherwise! She starts to argue but Mom cuts her off with a sharpness in her voice that startles her.

“Don’t! Argue with me on this one, Jesyll! Not this!”

Jesyll goes stiff. Her mother has never spoken to her so sharply before. She’s never been looked at so sternly before by her either. She knows immediately, just like when her father told her to hide and stay quiet, that she has to listen.

Mom’s nostrils flare as she breathes in deeply and closes her eyes for a moment. When they open again, she looks at her with that heroic warmth again and Jesyll looks at her amazed. How does she do that?

“Please, Jess. Take this potion, for both of us. I can see your arm and knee are hurt. I can carry your father but I can’t carry you too, so I need you to be able to walk on your own.”

She needs little more convincing, and the potion bottle ends up empty on the floor shortly later as her mother carefully watches her knee and arm while the warmth spreads out from her tummy. Mom gently squeezes at both and nods in approval as Jesyll feels nothing, just like that time before. Numb. Walking will be funny but she can do it.

She nods right back at her mom, who smiles a little wider and exposes one of her sharp fangs.

“Are you sure you need to know the secret? You’re already being so brave for me right now.”

Is she? She fiddles with the hem of her shirt. She still wants to know. She needs to be strong for both Mom and Dad and if she knew the secret then she could do that whenever they needed it.

“Mama… please… I want to help.” Her voice is small and it makes her mom press her lips together and stifle that proud smile with a sad one. “But… help Dad first?”

Mom’s eyes widen, before she sighs and squeezes their tails together. “You really are my brave little girl, Jess.”

Their tails stay twined as Mom sinks to the floor, withdrawing another potion from her pouches before she pulls Dad up into her lap with a sound of metal and metal as their armor scrapes together. Jesyll can see much better now the pain on his face and the blood all over him, coming from his nose and some gashes across his cheek and it looks so painful. What had those monsters done to him? She’d never seen her father look like this before, almost always so stern, just a little softer when with her or Mom or, rarely, so rarely, mischievous when she catches him in the right mood and he turns her pranks back on her. It makes her scared to see him this way; how can she be brave when Dad was like this and he was so much stronger than she was?

Mom uncorks the potion and slowly pours it into his mouth, and Jesyll expects him to open his eyes but the only thing that happens is a low, weak sounding groan as he shifts slightly. The bloody marks on his cheek barely close. No! She knew taking her potion was a bad idea. He needed both of them and she had only gotten a little scraped up! A whining whimper escapes from her throat and her mother’s eyes snap back up and meet hers with that heroic determination.

“He will be fine, okay? I’m going to take us some place safe and he’s going to be healed, but it takes time for me to cast the spell so it’s time to be brave.”

Even with the secret she’s not sure if she can be and she feels those tears coming back hotter and stingier than before. She starts to sniffle and it’s so hard to breath and she tries to swallow down air but then Mom’s hands are on her face again and she’s shooshing her and kissing her forehead again and then there’s that pink light in her eyes and at the tips of Mom's bloodied fingers.

And she suddenly feels… calmer, as her mother finishes whispering something she doesn’t realize is a spell—and her mother meanwhile swallows down the despair of casting Greater Heroism on a child so very young and should never be in a situation where it’s necessary but what is she supposed to do? She has to be brave.

Both of them have to be.

Jesyll stops crying and looks around, feeling just… calm. She should be scared and she’s not happy so she kind of just feels nothing at all, like the potion had made her hurting arm and knee numb but not normal. It's strange. Not good. Not bad. She doesn't need to cry anymore though and her Mom squeezes her tight for a few moments longer. Only then does she notice the blood on her mother's hands and she wonders if it's all over her face too now but she doesn't ask, because Mom pulls away and looks at her with that sad smile again despite the heroic look in her eyes.

“Okay, baby. You want to know the secret to being brave? To being a hero like me and Dad?”

Jesyll nods, eyes opened wide but otherwise stays quiet aside from sniffling at the wetness uncomfortable still in her nose.

Her mom takes a deep breath, and then says with the a great seriousness as if telling the most important secret in the world: “You just wait to cry until it’s all over.”

...Jesyll doesn’t understand. How is that being brave? She thought brave heroes just didn’t cry at all, that being brave meant not getting scared or upset or sad. She must’ve made a funny face because her mom pinches her cheek and tries to smile but it looks wrong. It’s not a real smile.

“You don’t believe me? Well, every time something scary or bad happens, you ask me how I don’t get upset or cry. Right?”

She nods, because it's true. She always wonders how Mom and Dad both stay so calm when she gets hurts or something happens.

Her mom reaches up and cards some of her bright purple hair where it’s fallen into her face back behind her ears, careful with the feathers she has there where her mother doesn’t.

“I do, Jess. I do cry and get angry and sad. I just hold it in until it’s over. I make sure everyone is safe and everything is fixed, and then I cry after, usually in the bath or in my room. That’s being brave.”

Jesyll is quiet for a moment. She thinks on what her mother has just told her, still not sure if she's being told the truth.

“…It is?” She asks quietly, and her voice sounds weirdly flat because she herself feels flat too.

“It is”, her Mom reassures her. “So… can you do that for me? Be calm and help me until we’re safe and Dad is okay?”

She thinks she can, and Mom kisses her again and squeezes her tail when she nods.

“Thank you, Jess. I know you can do it. You’re our girl after all.”

That makes a funny feeling in her tummy and she finds herself smiling back somehow. Yeah, she can do this! She is their kid and they’re heroes! She can be brave! She can help!

Her mom stands then and their tails slip out of each other, which she doesn’t like but she doesn’t say anything about it now. She’ll be brave and tell her mom later that she wanted to keep them together. Instead, she quietly watches as her mom sits back down on the floor, where she takes one of Dad’s hands in hers and kisses it even though it still has armor on. Jesyll hears her whisper something but not clear enough to understand what, only that Mom looks at Dad so warmly and sadly even though he can’t see it.

“I’m going to get us out of here," Mom says a little louder then, and she realizes Mom is talking to her now before she looks her way and confirms it. “I can’t pay attention to what might be outside while I cast the spell, so I need you to keep a look out and shake me if you see anything. It’s going to take ten minutes, which feels like a long time, but it’ll be over before you know it.”

Is ten minutes a long time? She doesn't know, but she believes her mom on this one that it'll be over soon and then they'll be in a place where they can both cry together. Still, she nods frantically at her ask, because looking out a window is something she can definitely.

Jesyll quickly stands back up only to sway as her numbed knee buckles. Her mother nearly leaps up to catch her, but Jesyll throws her little hands up and rushes to proclaim: “I’m okay! I’m brave! It doesn’t hurt!”

Mom hesitates before smiling again, but the pain in her eyes doesn't escape Jesyll's notice. She notes to be even braver, because mama needs it. Her little hands grab at the edge of the window frame for support as she begins her watch, but not before asking where they’re going.

“…We’re going to visit Uncle Daeran.”