#how sloshed can Essie drink

[bigtreefest]

Let the games begin

[royal-writer]

Inktober- 15. Legend

apparently i suck at this 500 word count limit thing

-

“You’ve been awfully quiet. Everything alright?”

Essätha lifted a smile up from her mug of steaming hibiscus tea, offering a polite nod. “Mmmhm, why wouldn’t I be?”

The tiefling cocked an eyebrow before her. She uncrossed her legs to lean forward; the darkness of her lifeless looking eyes lacking any lustrous light as they bore into her. “I don’t remember a conversation in the past thirty years we’ve had that your husband’s name didn’t come up at all.”

The Illiad gentleman’s smile turned brittle. “I can’t be a good listener for once, Sol?”

Solace snickered, reaching across to pat her knee. “You’ve always been a good listener, reptile. I’m just worried is all. Everything okay between you and moneybags?”

Essie soured her expression quickly.

“I’m sorry-”

“You really are like a sister; only you could be this annoying and yet I refrain from strangling you.”

“Demon-spawn baby, I’m irresistible,” the pale red woman sang, but her smile faded fast. “… How is Amon doing?”

She opened her mouth. She closed it. Her hands shook, and the teacup in her hands rattled, nearly sloshing her beverage. Essie sat it on the nearby table instead, and sat on her hands instead.

Solace gave a slow nod. “… I can be a good listener too, Essie.”

“He’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Scales…”

“I need to go get more tea, mine’s growing cold. Would you like some more.”

Solace placed a hand on her leg as she moved to stand. “Essätha, you just got that mug. We can avoid the subject if you want, but don’t avoid me.”

The Yuan-Ti woman’s lips drew in a thin line. Her eyes moved from the hand on her leg, to Solace’s face. She kept her spine rigid and stiff.

“Were you going to check up on him?”

“No.” A lie. Her hands twisted beneath her things.

“… You can go. I’m not judging you-”

“As well you shouldn’t. If I want fresh tea, I should be allowed to get it. And if I did happen to go check up my husband, there’s nothing wrong with that, either.”

“No of course not. You love him.”

“I do.” Her lip trembled. She swallowed, and reached for her tea. “Excuse me.”

The hand removed from her thigh. As she stood and turned away, a teardrop fell into her glass.

Sol’s voice trailed after her: “He’s a legend, Ess’, just like you and the rest of your friends. He can’t forget all that. A legend never dies, after all.”

Essätha nearly dropped her drink as she left the room. Her head felt like it was spinning. She swallowed the horrified lump in her throat from her oldest friends words, and set down her tea on a nearby table. Her eyes trailed to the staircase.

Just a peek. If she was quick maybe Sol wouldn’t suspect she actually went to check on him.

A legend never dies.

She tried to tip-toe her steps as quickly as possible up the stairwell.

They didn’t ask to be legends. Legends were what you called things of the past. She didn’t ask for impossible, or unbendable, or impractical. She asked for simple things, like love, and trust, and loyalty. She didn’t want a fairytale, she just wanted him.

She made it to their bedroom in near record time, and silently turned the knob over. The hinges squeaked, reminding her they needed oiling.

Peacefully sleeping. She exhaled, seeing the comforter rise and fall with his breathing.

Slowly, she began to pull the door closed.

“Mm… Essie darling, is that you?”

She cursed herself quietly. “Yes, m’lord. I’m sorry for waking you.”

Lord Amon sat up slowly. He turned over even slower, clearly clenching his teeth in pain as he rubbed his hip. “No that’s alright, I was having trouble staying asleep anyway. The bed’s not as warm without sharing it with you.”

Her cheeks blushed pink. She glanced off to the side, trying not to fidget her hands. By the time she looked back, the nobleman was sitting up, staring adoringly over at her. He beckoned with a hand, and she followed his request without objection.

Humming with appreciation, he took hold of her twitchy little hands first. He kissed her knuckles, and let them go to beckon to her once more. She laughed, sliding a knee upon the bed and leaning closer. He took hold of her cheeks next, and she threaded her fingers through his thinning snow white hair.

“You are overwhelmingly pretty when you get all shy and flustered, my precious wife” he teased her, pressing another kiss to the tip of her nose while she laughed breathlessly.

“Do you want me to help you up, my beloved?”

“No thank dear, I haven’t slept much and am still so tired. I just wanted to have the chance to steal some of your love to help me drift off.”

“It’s not stealing if it’s already all yours.”

“Quite right darling,” he boasted confidently, kissing her softly.

She was in a brief, dizzying whirlwind of gentle lips and rough hands, caressing her face and then down her throat, down her chest, over her sides as she shivered. By the time he released her, she was thoroughly tinted red from hairline to collarbone, and he was proudly grinning while rolling himself back into the bed.

Essie took a few deep breathes, before airly murmuring, as though in a dream, “… Would you care for another blanket, m’lord Amon?”

“That would be lovely, thank you darling.”

She moved without feeling like she was moving, opening the trunk at the end of the bed to grab a quilt. With Amon nestled back beneath the duvet, she unfolded the new blanket to flick it open over him, tucking the sides in around him a little as he gazed up at her with a twinkle in his gaze.

“Sorry I can’t join you and your friend downstairs.”

Solace. Crap.

“That’s alright, you get your rest.” She smoothed out the covers delicately over him. “I’ll join you soon.”

A touch of sadness seemed to roam his features as she met his gaze. He undid her perfect tucking to wiggle an arm free, and reach out to place a hand over top her hand lightly. “Don’t feel obligated to stop enjoying the company of others for my account, Essätha.”

Her smile wavered. She laid her other hand atop his, and squeezed.

“I love spending time with you, too.”

Amon grunted. “… I just don’t want to be the source of your unhappiness-”

“I’m not unhappy.”

He studied her face. He nodded with a soft smile, but she knew him. She could read the doubt in his eyes.

“Don’t keep your friend waiting, love.”

She remained frozen in place. “M’lord-”

“It’s alright, Essie.”

It wasn’t alright.

He took his hand away to snuggle back under the covers, leaving her vacant and empty. She readjusted the blanket in silence as he curled up. She felt numb.

“Thank you.”

She kissed his cheek.

“I’ll join you in a bit, sweetheart.”

“Mm, yes. Not even a Raven Lord could keep you away from me, is that right?”

Her eyes widened. She stared down at him, his eyes already closed.

“… What about the Raven Lord?”

“Hmm?” he sluggishly responded. “Oh, ignore me, I had a foggy dream I think. Raven Lord… who would call themselves such a ridiculous name…”

Her heart plummeted. She wasn’t thinking; she was only desperate for something to make sense of. “What about Abe? Or Pen? Or Sul; or Pri, or Rava, or Adela? Have you dreamed about any of them? What about Barnabus? Does Alexis mean anything to you?”

“Who’re those… people…?”

Essätha took a deep breath to steel herself, and stepped away from the bedside. She mechanically backed away, already hearing the heavy sound of his breathing; not yet snoring. She pivoted on her heel, and made for the doorway. Her head felt like it wasn’t even attached to her body, like it was moving without thought.

She could feel the burning sting in her eyes. Her breath hitched.

Barely into their private sitting room, and she nearly ran into Solace. The tiefling’s face turned a darker red as she tried to open her mouth to explain herself.

Shutting the door behind her gently, Essie turned towards her friend. Her eyes were on her shoes.

“Es-”

She threw herself at the tiefling, a sob breaking through her pressed to the startled woman’s shoulder.

“Woah… h-hey there it’s… it’s okay. I’m so sorry... I’m here,” Sol mumbled nervously, pulling her into an embrace.

It meant nothing. Words meant nothing. She just needed something to hold to; something to ground herself to reality. There was no comfort from this cruel reality.

They were legends, passing in the night. Soon to be nothing but songs, and stories, and myths.

But she didn’t care for the epic folktale retelling of their lives passed on for generations.

She’s trade it all in a heartbeat, to have him whole again.

[royal-writer]

In vain, I have struggled.

It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.

---

It had to be well past midnight by the time the celebration wound down. In nightfall, the citizens of the small town hiccuped and swayed back to their homes. Drunk of meads, ales, and every liquor they could scrounge up from storage, they toppled over each other and grinned like madmen.

The smell of sweat and intoxicated fluids both sweet and bitter stung the air, and burned Essätha’s eyes. Or perhaps it was the smoke from the various bonfires, or the stench of some of the local delicacies (how on earth someone could find goblin gallbladders a delicacy was beyond her).

She couldn’t blame their glee, having had the efreeti terrorizing their village finally destroyed. It had been a hard battle fought; as proof of her companions scorched battlegear, but it was nice to enjoy the fruits of their labor. A drink here and there, a hearty meal to fill a growling stomach, and plenty of company and laughter. She tried not to indulge too much in their kindness and offerings, but the pies and cakes had been exceptionally scrumptious.

From the outline of the flames, she could make out Ravamora sleeping beside Pri’cha as they spoke to Sulhadur. She still had a sun-burnt complexion, but was at least resting peacefully after nearly becoming elven barbecue. Only the poof of her singed-dark hair was visible wrapped up behind the duo.

And the groups tallest and smallest talked the twilight stars away, Penimra was smooching up to the latest grateful lad who expressed his intent quite clearly with his filthy mouth. Everywhere. On everything the high-elf wore. Or, rather, where he didn’t.

She stood from her chair; unable to take another second of watching the young man suck on the warlock’s chest through the keyhole slot, to pace the lengthy shadows across the village. Between houses with lights still on and boastful laughter swept like a summer storm, Essie followed the strings of music playing idly from the distance. Other instruments began to join in to the new song. It sounded sad; almost melancholy, as the hum and slurred words of the bards and poets tried to recite a song she’d never heard about dwarves in the mountains reclaiming their home.

Her eyes spotted Amon situated among some of the townsfolk then. They appeared to be invested in good conversation, as she spotted his smile and quiet chuckle of his laughter. His hand expressed in gestures here and there and a flutter echoed beneath her breast upon the sight of his ease around these strangers. He appeared so naturally comfortable around them; and wearing relaxed attire, it was hard to look at him and see an aristocrat. It was not, however, difficult to see the noble man in him as he’d reach out, steadying a rather sloshed gentleman so he didn’t fall over in a stupor.

Essätha snorted to see Abe supporting a rather tipsy Adela as she teetered past her then, the Tiefling expressing her love for the town and its people. She fished into her pocket to pull out a few pieces of gold, and toss them over to the band as they passed.

“Can ya’ boys play an’thin’ less depressin’?” Adela tutted, waggling a finger at them as her expression soured. “This ‘suppose ta’be a paaaaa-rty.”

“I’m so sorry,” Abe coughed with embarrassment, wheeling her in a different direction. “She’s had a bit too much to drink.”

“I haven’t!” Adela declared furiously. “Someone defend me! Essa’ over yonder, don’t you think these-” a hiccup, “-fellas could play somethin’ a bit brighter?”

Humiliated to have the attention cast upon her, the Yuan-Ti gave a timid smile to the eyes cast upon her. “I- I suppose-?”

Muttering, the jeweler allowed Abe to sit her down in the nearest available chair. While he asked for some water from the nearest resident, Essie slipped around them to slide by the wandering eyes and locked-stares. The long-dormant dread that sat inside of her reignited like kindling to a match, fearing the judgment of too many upon her scaly features.

The attention was isolating. She suffocated on the hazy ghosts in her memory, scorning her appearance and what she was.

A curious sound of someone’s gasp followed her. She picked up her feet a bit more as her frayed nerves trembled.

“Essätha?”

She paused, but not at her name. Rather, the tone using it. Compelling and amazed; it varied in shades of gilded sun-shafts and floating clouds pushed by a gentle breeze.

Casting a small crooked smile over her shoulder, she gazed back at Amon as he picked his way from the crowd developed around where he’d sat to follow her into darkness.

“Headed to bed?”

“For some privacy, actually,” she acknowledged. “A spot of peace and quiet.”

His face fell. “Ah,” he murmured. Shifting his shoulders nervously as he approached, Amon stalled with the shuffle of his feet before he offered, “Would one more be too much company?”

An untamed grin pressed against her lips. “Depends on with whom you speak.”

His brow rose at her tease, and the Illiad responded with a handsome wild grin of his own. “Myself. Unless you would rather I dis-invite?”

She giggled, grateful that the darkness swallowed her. It would hide the flush of her cheeks burning in answer to his mischief. Her insides quivered restlessly from her own self-inflicted embarrassment.

“No, your company is perfectly welcome.”

Amon sighed gratefully; the sound an airy breath. Her eyes felt conflicted, unsure if it was truly the affects of the fire reflecting in his gaze making them appear so glistening and warm, or if it was just himself as the light bathed against his backside like an ethereal glow. It added to the encouraging softness of his smile as he offered a hand, which she took. Hard calluses, but a careful touch.

Darkness. The stars illuminating in his black gaze.

Gods, she could drown in his eyes.

She moved, turning to lead them away from the traffic of footsteps and noisy chatter. The first footsteps felt unsteady, still floating on a high, feeling lifted by the nobleman’s calming presence.

He remained silent. The texture of his hand moved against hers as he squeezed upon her palm, and traced his digits along hers. His wrist’s pulse touched hers, and her sweaty hands reacted with a leap of from her already racing heartbeat.

She’d sell all she had to have him touch her so fondly once more.

The music began to fade into the background. The aroma of churned soil from farmland fields filled her nostrils, and she breathed it in deeply, staring out on the outskirts of civilization. The twinkling of stars and holy sight of the universe stared back at her from its distance. Hundreds of lights. The brightest yet beside her.

Amon gave her a few moments to absorb the sound of crickets chirping and the distant cry of an owl, before he broke the spell, flexing his fingers against hers.

“Do you like it here?”

She kept her eyes fixated on the farmhouses and nearby wooded area, mulling over his question.

“I appreciate the freedom of the open air,” she relented, not sure if it was an answer to the right question. “It’s nice, just to observe sometimes. Be a passing stranger rather than the focus.”

Amon moved his boots restlessly through the dewy grass. “… Would it bother you, being someone’s focus?” he rasped in a distant, quiet voice.

She dared to turn her head to look up at him. The hues of his hair melted into the black of the sky. He appeared paler than usual, like he was afraid, as he turned his gaze to face hers as well.

He swallowed. “I apologize. I would hate for you to feel strangled by my presence.”

Quirking a small smile, Essätha shyly twirled a lock of hair back out of her face, glancing away. “Don’t worry, I don’t. Actually I feel…”

She licked her lips, moving to search his face. Intense, vulnerable, awaiting her with breathless anticipation.

“… quite liberated, when you’re around.”

The nobleman exhaled, and she breathed in. The tense feverishness in the air evaporated as their gazes tore apart

A few seconds ticked by. She leaned closer to the heat of his body.

“I don’t mind being the center of attention,” she breathed timidly. “When I’m the center of your attention.”

“That’s… good,” Amon strained. “You are the center of my attention frequently.”

“Am I?” she whispered, glancing up at him.

“Yes.”

The hoarse want didn’t go unnoticed, nor did the searing way he looked at her, scorching new burns into her. Not surface burns; blistering skin as the efreeti had done. These were different kinds of engravings. Scribbled on her soul, he traced her face with her eyes, and the flush ink of red within it.

Whose thumb started moving first? His, or hers? They both moved, drawing symbols into each others hands as their sights got lost each other.

“I think about you a lot, too,” she mumbled, and immediately regretted it. Stupid. She couldn’t make that sound any less foolish if she’d tried.

But he smiled, nonetheless. There was a glimmer of understanding in the shine of his gaze, and the creases of amusement by his eyes.

“I’m glad you’re with me,” Essie continued, hoping to salvage her image. “You make every day brighter and better than the last. I… I don’t like to think of where life could have taken me without you in it.”

“You taught me that my story matters, and that I have a voice to tell it. Being around you has given me the chance to see the world differently, and I’ve learned so much about myself and about how the world can be forgiven. You’ve given me courage. I just needed to listen to the individual, rather than judge what I’ve heard before.”

“You’ve made my life more genuine,” she expressed in a hush. “You’ve made every adventure more unbelievable. I’ve learned the impact of how a small gesture of kindness can shape someone’s beliefs. I’ve learned that not all strength is the kind people use to flex their muscles. You’ve given me a lot to think about and grow on. Your passion to put your heart into all your endeavors and surpass any goal is admirable. Your best intentions and brilliant ideas have challenged me to work harder to improve myself in the best ways.”

“And I thank you, for being there. For trying to understand, and never judging me. You accepted me with open-mindedness. You listened with a compassionate heart, and never wavered from words.”

“I’m really grateful that you’re here,” Essätha finished, feeling her throat tighten as she smiled up into his beautiful face. “I’m grateful that you stayed.”

He turned to face her fully. Taking her free hand, he smothered her fingers beneath hers as he raised them. Cradled against his chest; nestled just below his collarbone.

“I stayed for you,” he reminded her hoarsely. “I stayed because of you.”

Her heart ruptured as Amon raised her hands, gracing the back of her skin with his lips as he spoke in a thick voice: “Have you any idea, how precious you are to me? Your beautiful heart, your kind soul, your thoughtful actions- you are saintly. Divine.”

“The world should not be granted someone so gentle and sweet, yet here you are. I’ve been reminded the act of kindness and its power witnessing you. You’re a gift, and you keep on giving without fail to everyone you meet. You offer that adoring smile, a patient ear, a place of comfort to be heard and held. How could I not be inspired by such generosity? You are woman only deserving of only the best things in life; the trust and loyalty you give returned, your kindness returned tenfold.”

“I feel braver now, with you, then I’ve felt in all my life. I feel sure of direction when I had none before. I know I can speak my mind, and that even if I am clumsy or my ideas rash or filled with fault, that you will be considerate, and that you will only improve upon and build what I have to say. You haven’t turned away a single thing I’ve done or said as dismissive, but rather, showed your character in your perseverance.”

“I’ve never felt more safe with someone, then I do when I’m around you,” Amon gently admitted, tracing his lips along her fingers. “I would do anything to protect you, and your heart, in the same ways you have mine. You’ve put up such a hard fight for so long, Essätha. I’m humbled you’re willing to believe in me enough to be open. I’m honored to have witnessed your selfless mercy. I will never take you, or your goodness, for granted.”

She swallowed, but the lump in her throat did not dissolve. Wiggling her hands free, she grazed her fingers along his cheeks. His palms stroked over the back of her hands, weaving his digits along hers as she held his face.

“I’d follow you anywhere,” he choked. “Anywhere at all.”

She gave a breathless gasp. “What about Briarton?”

“What about it?”

“That is your home. You are its Lord-”

“Amelie can take my place,” Amon reminded her. It was deja vu. Similar words said a lifetime ago, when he’d been so determined to throw his life away to go to the dungeons.

“I want to be where you are. I want to go where you go. Where ever you go, wherever you want to stay, that is where I want to be, too.”

“Briarton, the Emerald Expanse, they can continue on without me,” he whispered, clutching her hands desperately. “But I can not go on without you.”

The soft hope lighting his expression melted her. Essätha urged him a little closer, beads of liquid clinging to her lashes.

“Take me with you. I can live in Briarton. I can live anywhere, as long as you’re there.”

He was close. Intermingling breathes. Only a short lean on her toes. His eyes half-closed, slightly parted lips, the stutter of his heartbeat as her hands ghosted down to grip his jerkin, and he lowered his hands to reach for her waist.

“I could settle for mistress-”

“Mistress?” Amon practically growled, pulling her closer. “I would throw out anyone who dare use the term.”

“Really?” she whispered, pressing against the outline of his chest slowly. “What would you call me, then?”

He exhaled shakily, following the curve of her back with his hands. “My darling Essätha.”

A rush of heat spilled into her face, and she glanced away. Her pulse was all-too aware how incredibly close he was. The warmth of his breath was against her temple, the curve of his smile hovering just before her. The slightest glimpse, and their lips nearly brushed. She could almost taste his joy.

“Do you hear that?”

Her ears rang beneath the sound of racing heartbeat. She shook her head.

“I enjoy this song,” Amon breathed, cradling her closer. “Would you care for a dance?”

Barely able to fill her lungs, she slid her trembling arms around his neck in wordless agreement. He pulled her closer, cradling the small of her back and beneath her shoulder blades. With a tilt of his face, his forehead rested lightly against her own.

He had the most enchantingly beautiful smile she’d ever seen.

The tune from the band drifted clearly in their direction, and as they swayed slowly from side to side, Amon pulled her closer. Plucking of strings, the brush of a drumsticks gently across a surface, ivory keys tapped with careful fingers. It was pure magic, filling space with art itself.

Investing herself in a great sigh, Essie allowed all the tension in her body to dissipate. He was warm and steady against her. Her heart clawing to the surface, catching the bouquet of flowers from the blooming garden in his own that he offered. He felt strongly of home, in his arms.

A delicate hum echoed in the nobleman’s throat, following the melody. Then, softly, he began to sing.

“Wise men say: only fools rush in. But I can't help falling in love with you.”

She gasped weakly, digging her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck for security.

“Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can’t help falling in love with you?”

She quivered. It started from the top of her head, and made her shudder all the way down to her toes.

He continued to hum, running his hands down the slope of her spine, catching her shivers and with every stroke. She dared herself to catch his eyes, and they were smoldering beneath the half-lided veils. Moonlight catching, dancing off the depths of the sea.

Amon leaned in, breathing softly against her ear, tickling her hair, “Take my hand, take my whole life too; for I can’t help falling in love with you.”

She tugged his hair by the roots gently, barely catching her breath. “M’lord Amon.” A plea. A wish. A sigh of longing, his name filled the very definition of love.

The faint impression of his mouth moved from her earlobe, skimmed her cheek, and brushed her lips.

“Promise you’ll stay,” Essätha barely murmured. “Promise me you’ll love me, for I give to you my heart, and all the love it contains for you with it.”

The shape of his smile against her lips made her heart flutter.

“I promise.”

And he sealed his vow with the a tender kiss. The most beautiful, gentle, loving, committed kiss. The kind you could never forget. For some things, simply, were just meant to be.

[royal-writer]

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.