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crystaljins · 4 years ago

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River lead me home | 07

Characters: Kim Seokjin x reader

Word count: 7.3k

Synopsis: Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Genre: Adventure, fluff, angst

Notes: Hey all! Long time no see! I’m not really sure why I took so long to post... I just felt like I put so much work into this fic that I didn’t want it to be over so easily, and I was like “after this there’s only one more chapter!!” AND THEN! I went into my WIPs folder and made a discovery! THere’s 9 parts to this fic!! So now I feel a little better.

ANyway, PLEASE let me know if you like this chapter because I definitely feel like it’s the emotional climax of the whole story. ALl the stuff that happens from this point on is just... like a really long epilogue.

Tags: @blue1928 @veeparkersstuff @nello-rie (soz it won’t tag you!)

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

You may be a guardian, but even you have your limits. Despite your best attempts to move quickly, the pain in your shoulder rapidly becomes overwhelming.

Jin, frustratingly, picks up on it far sooner than you would prefer.

“I think we need to stop for a break.” He comments. The three of you have barely been walking for an hour and at any moment the Saishta’s could be upon you, ready to take you to their queen.

Jungkook looks like he wants to protest.

“We’re so close though! It’s only a little while longer!” He points out, glancing nervously across the expansive plains. The benefit of them is that you’d spot any Saishtas from miles away, given the hulking, monstrous beasts they tend to use as their mounts.

Jungkook folds his arms. “I think it’s a bad idea to stop now. We need to get to the river and we’re sitting ducks out on the plains like this.”

Jin shoots Jungkook a withering look- this is nothing new, but the venom in Jin’s eyes surprises you. As much as he pretends to hate the tiny pixie, he doesn’t actually mean it.

Jungkook shrivels a bit but doesn’t back down. Luckily (or rather, unluckily), their stand-off is halted by your legs deciding they are no longer strong enough to hold your body up. Blood loss and extreme pain will do that, apparently.

Jin catches you as you crumble, smoothly scooping an arm around your waist and gently tugging you towards him until your weight is supported by his frame. The entire time, he does not tear his gaze from his stare-off with Jungkook. And apparently your weakness is the convincing Jungkook needs to show it’s time for a break. He glares at Jin for another couple of moments before releasing an annoyed huff.

“I’ll cast a disguising spell on you two and scout out the area for any of those annoying reptiles. Don’t move from this spot or the spell will become ineffective.” He announces through grit teeth before zooming off like an angry mosquito.

When he’s out of earshot, Jin turns his gaze to you and gently lowers you to the ground until you are seated amongst the stiff golden stems. He doesn’t release you from his carefully hold, however. Instead, he shifts until he is sitting almost nose-to-nose with you.

“That was strange of Jungkook.” You observe, in an attempt to cover your discomfort at his proximity. You wonder if Jin knows how powerful his good looks are up close. He probably does- he’s never pretended to be anything other than devastatingly handsome.

“He’s scared.” Jin answers with pursed lips. His gaze isn’t on your face, however. It’s fixed on your injured shoulder. Slowly, he raises a hand and gently rests his palm against the front of your shoulder. “You would be too if you could see how terrible you look right now.”

If you are surprised by the single tear that rolls down your face in response, it is nothing compared to Jin’s horrified reaction as he realises what he has done. Apparently, this whole being in love thing sucks.

“W-wait!” Jin protests, absolutely horrified. “I-I didn’t mean it like that-“

You quickly scrub at your face with your uninjured arm. You know, in theory, that Jin didn’t mean that you looked terrible as in that he thought you were ugly. And you know in theory that it is therefore stupid to cry over it. But for some reason, that’s where your mind had gone- reminding you like an ever present shadow just how misplaced you look next to him, how there’s nothing you can give him that he can’t find in a million other girls, and just how little he thinks of you.

You’re surprised when his hand replaces yours, far gentler than you had been as he wipes the tears from your face with a careful swipe of his thumb.

“Hey,” he calls, grabbing your chin in his hand and angling your face until you’re forced to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that you... that you...” he voice cracks and he hangs his head, dropping his hands so he can clench his fists in his lap. “It’s not fun being reminded of how close we came to losing you.” Jin finally says. He drops his hand and his shoulders slump like he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You don’t know this Jin. This terrified, uncertain man. He’s never once, in the entire time you’ve known him, shown this vulnerable, fragile side of himself. But you know you’re in trouble because you love this side of him too. The part of him that gets scared, that shows weakness, that can break. As much as you hate the fact that it is you who has made him like this, you are grateful that he trusts you enough to show himself, warts and all, and you feel something molten in your chest as you silently promise yourself that you’ll protect him. No matter what, you’ll keep him safe. Even if you’re not particularly smart or pretty or charming. You’re not the model-like, glamourous, genius girls he normally dates, and you never will be. You’re unemployed and clumsy and socially awkward and you’re selfish and childish on top of all that. But this is what you can offer him: your heart, as pathetic as she is, and the promise to protect him, no matter where he goes or ends up in life.

“I know you didn’t mean it like that. I... just... It’s stupid.” You sigh at yourself before lifting your gaze to watch him. “Are you scared?” You finally question, changing the subject as the last of your tears dry. Jin frowns, nodding slightly.

“A little.” He admits, his tone a bit dry like he’s severely understating his feelings on the matter. And you don’t know why, but something prompts you to reach forward and wrap your hand around his. Perhaps it is the slight shake he tried to hide by gripping the material of his pants so hard his knuckles go white. His hand is surprisingly much bigger than yours- you don’t know why that surprises you, but it does.

“Don’t worry.” You reassure him. “I’ll protect you.”

The corner of his lip quirks and he shoots you an oddly fond look. It’s one you’ve seen before, although not directed at you. You’ve seen him look that way when he speaks about a particularly endearing coworker, or he recalls something silly that Namjoon has done. This is the first time you’ve been on the receiving end.

“In that state?” He questions with a raised brow. You feel yourself bristle a little defensively at the slightly patronising way he is coming across.

“Are you laughing?” You press, slightly offended. “You don’t think I can?”

“No.” Jin answers, turning to you with an odd sort of expression to his face. “I know you will. That’s the problem.” And then, in spite of himself, he offers you a full-blown smile, cheerful and happy like you’ve never really seen before. You are momentarily struck speechless, mesmerised by the sight before you. “But thank you. I’m glad, that I can count on you.”

Something warm and eager blooms in your chest at his words. You cup your hands around his face and you admire the openness of his smile. How great would it be, if you could capture that smile in a picture and keep it forever? If you could preserve the way he’s looking at you right now, so that you always remember with clarity that even if he doesn’t love you, Jin can look at you like this. Like you are something precious and adored. This is the man you get to love. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, you’re still happy. You feel like this love is a happy thing.

“I’m starting to think you only wanted to rest to pull the moves on her.” Jungkook announces his presence, seeming thoroughly unimpressed. He folds his arms as the air shimmers around him, signalling the dispersion of his illusory magic. “‘Let’s go see the river, Jungkook. It’ll be fun. I’ll get over my trauma.’ If you’d told me being a third wheel was in the job description, I never would have come.” Jungkook grumbles as Jin quickly pulls away. You don’t quite catch the way his ears go red and his face seems to burn where your hands had gently cradled him, but Jungkook does, and he merely rolls his eyes at the sight. “It’s time to go.” He urges.

Jin clears his throat awkwardly, scrabbling to his feet and dusting off his trousers before extending his hand out to you.

“C’mon.” He urges, though his tone seems gruffer than before. “Jungkook’s right. The Saishtas will find us at this rate.”

You hesitate, just a moment, before gratefully accepting his hand as he tugs you to your feet.

Oddly, though you expect him to release your hand once you are standing, he does no such thing. Instead, he wraps his hand around yours and uses it to tug you along as the three of you once again set off.

“It’ll be easier for you to keep up.” Is all Jin offers as explanation for why he continues to grip onto your hand as though you’re planning to flee from him the second that he releases you. You stare in confusion for a moment, trying to puzzle out Jin’s behaviour, but he provides no further insight.

The three of you set a much more rapid pace this time, and after your brief rest, you cope much better. Jin eventually releases your hand when it becomes clear you’re gradually regaining your strength as your enhanced healing kicks in. The sun begins to draw close to the horizon and the brilliant blue above begins to deepen into a soft pink. But you realise something, as you continue your advance.

There’s no sound of a river. Over the expansive plains, the river song should carry easily on the warm, sweet breeze. And it should be in view by now, but it’s not. Instead, what you see is a dark, jagged line slicing through the plains like a gaping wound. It’s the edge of a ravine- there’s no river in sight.

“Something’s not right- “ you breathe, only for the breath to be knocked clean from your lungs as Jin throws his full body weight at you, unprompted. You roll a few times from the force of his tackle, before finally landing with his body crouched over you protectively. Your eyes widen in shock, glancing over to where you had stood moment before, only to see the end of an arrow lodged in the ground.

“See!” Jin croaks, hovering over you. “How hard was that? Tackle, don’t push, (Y/N)! If you’re gonna be saving people at least take that on board.” He scolds, in what is clearly the beginning of a Jant. (Jin rant)

“Now’s not the time, Jin!” Jungkook screeches.

“I’m just saying,” Jin cries, as he scrambles off you and yanks you to your feet by your good arm. “How hard would it have been to tackle me instead of taking an arrow to the shoulder?”

His Jant is interrupted by the dreadful sound of the Saishta hunting horn erupting from behind you. Only, this time, there is nowhere to run. Yes, you could easily outrun them, but to where? You have long left the safety of the forest where there are endless places to safely conceal yourself once you’ve outrun them. But here is only open plains, followed by a sheer cliff face. There is a bridge across the river, in the maps you’ve seen, but those maps have also told you there’s a river where there’s nothing but a deathly ravine. Still, the bridge is supposedly about a kilometre south of where you now stand, and it’s your only hope. But will you be able to run that far in this state?

The ravine hovers on the edge of your vision, out towards the west, and you can now make out the hulking forms of the Saishta mounts, as their hunting party makes its slow, arrogant prowl towards you. The mounts of Saishtas do not run- they believe that persistence will allow them to eventually capture any prey. Eventually, all targets must tire, or reach the end, and that is when the Saishta can make the kill. They seem confident that that’s the situation the three of you are in now. You could flee, but if you give away that your destination is the river (or ravine?), you’ll never be able to safely see it, for they will guard it until the end of time.

“Sssurrender!” They call, now barely a hundred metres away.

“We’ll have to fight.” You announce to your companions, who both whip their heads around to glare at you with incredulity.

“Are you crazy?” Jungkook cries.

You clench your teeth as you slip into a familiar stance, holding up your arms as you prepare to fight.

“It’s our only option.” You point out, wincing as your shoulder protests at the stance you are currently in.

Jin takes one look at you and the advancing Saishtas and then he does possibly the most unexpected thing he could have done.

He throws you over his shoulder like you are a sack of potatoes and legs it.

“This way!” Jungkook encourages, zooming southwards towards where you know the bridge is.

“Jin!” You cry in protest, but he doesn’t respond. “Jin, stop! I was going to fight them!”

“No!” Jin snaps. “You were going to die. Or at least, you were going to try to and this time I’m not letting you.”

You stop struggling, slumping against his back.

“Not again.” Jin promises. “You won’t get hurt again. ‘I won’t stop and think while you’re in danger.’” He tells you, echoing your earlier words to him. For some reason, it leaves you unable to retort. “Now if I set you down, will you run with me, or will you do something stupid?”

You purse your lips in annoyance, trying to hold yourself stable as you flop around on Jin’s shoulder. You can see the Saishta making their slow, confident prowl behind you. They won’t shoot any more arrows at this proximity- after all, their aim is to capture you, not kill.

“I’ll run.” You silently agree. Jin gives you absolutely no warning as he practically flings you back onto the ground, grabbing your hand as he tugs you on in a full-on sprint.

“We’re almost there!” Jungkook cries, zooming slightly ahead of the two of you. Ahead, the great stone structure that comprises the great bridge that can carry you to safety on the other side of the ravine. You swallow your desperate, heaving breaths, ignoring the way your weakened body protests at the exertion. If you can just get to the bridge, there’s a forest on the other side of the river. The three of you can easily conceal yourselves there, and then come back under the cover of night and investigate why there’s a ravine here instead of a river.

The ground firms beneath you as it transitions from soft, loamy soil to a firm, well cut stone path. An arrow whizzes just past your ear and bounces off the stone path- a warning shot from the pursuing hunting party.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the three of you reach the edge of the bridge. The ravine is huge, and the bridge stretches ahead of you.

And then it sounds. Another hunting horn, a sound that will probably haunt you for the remainder of your days. But this one is from the opposite side of the bridge, where you are fleeing to.

Jin’s footsteps slow alongside yours, and Jungkook’s frantic buzzing becomes a slow, confused flutter as the three of you gradually draw the same conclusion.

You’re trapped. There are Saishtas awaiting you on either side of the bridge. No matter which way you try to break through, you will have to fight through them. No wonder they were so confident they could catch you.

“We’ll have to fight.” You breathe, trying to slow your exhausted, rapid breathing. Jin is soaked with sweat and even Jungkook seems flushed with the exertion of your desperate sprint.

“We can’t.” Jin reminds you, out of breath and still gripping onto your hand so hard it hurts. “You’ll die.”

“We’ll die if they capture us too!” You point out. You can now see the Saishtas on both ends of the bridge, closing in on the three of you like a pack of hunting dogs. “I’m so sorry Jin- this is all my fault! It’s not even a river- it’s some kind of ravine! I dragged us all the way here for nothing.”

“Jin!” Jungkook calls, but you ignore him, too caught up in the realisation of what you’ve done.

“He told me nature doesn’t change but that was stupid! Of course it changes- it’s been 1000 years and I just believed like an idiot that the river would still be here.” You cry, tears flowing down your face.

“Jin!” Jungkook calls, and this time, Jin claps free his hand over your mouth to stop your desperate monologuing.

“What now?” Jin demands of the small pixie. The pixie in question bites his lip and looks from side to side at the Saishtas who watch you almost lazily across the length of the bridge. They have all the time in the world, after all- where can the three of you go except over the edge of the bridge, where you will surely meet your demise?

“‘The river loves those who take the plunge.’” Jungkook recites, gesturing out to the endless, gaping ravine behind you.

You stare in confusion, but understanding dawns in Jin’s eyes as he leans over the low stone wall and stares down at the bottomless pit. He goes white and his hand tightens on your own to the point you are wincing with pain.

“(Y/N),” Jin calls, not lifting his gaze from the ravine. “Do you trust me?”

You blink, glancing over at the Saishtas who draw closer and closer with each moment. You’re not sure why he’s asking this now of all times, but your answer still comes easily.

“With my life.” You answers solemnly. He glances at you, surprised by your words, before his gaze softens and he smiles weakly at you. Then, he releases your hand and slowly he lifts himself up onto the stone wall.

“Then take the plunge.” He tells you, holding his hand out to you.

Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s trying to do. You glance at Jungkook, who merely nods at you, and then at the Saishtas who chatter in confusion at Jin’s actions.

And finally, you look up at Jin, into the eyes of the man you love, and you know that even if it’s crazy, you really do trust him with your life.

He tugs you up onto the wall and pulls you close, cradling your head in the palm of one hand and wrapping his other arm around your waist to hold you close. It reminds you of when you had arrived in this realm. He’s always held you like this, you realise. Like you are something precious to him, something he could never bear to lose.

You lift your gaze to him and meet his eyes, filled with fear, and he smiles. The Saishtas realise what is happening right as Jin takes a step backwards, off the edge of the bridge.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the two of you plummet down into the ravine below, Jungkook in close pursuit.

The last thing you hear before the darkness swallows you up is the desperate, furious roars of the Saishtas, thwarted once more.

When you come to, it is on a slightly damp, sandy surface. Jin is still unconscious next to you, with an arm thrown protectively over your waist. As you sit up, his arm slides off you, and you move away, taking in your surroundings.

You’re on a sandy riverbank- dark, inky waves lap at the surface in what is largely a calm, but dark river.

Overhead, you can see the clear, starry sky peeking at you through the jagged crack exposed by the top of the ravine. The river before you catches small flashes of starlight, but otherwise the area is largely dark.

That is, until a torch beam lands on you and you are nearly blinded by the sudden, intense light.

“Ow!” You cry out, unable to see who is on the other side of the beam.

“Sorry!” Jungkook hastily apologises, struggling to hold up the weight of your pompompurin torch. “I was looking for something.”

You rub at your eyes, which are now streaming with tears.

“Looking for what?” You ask, when your vision is finally cleared enough to make out Jungkook’s outline in the meagre lighting. Jungkook is silent for a moment, before hoisting the torch up even though it’s larger than him and directing it at the wall.

“This.” He says, and then he turns the light on.

You don’t know what you were expecting with Jungkook’s actions, but what you find is dozens of inscriptions along the cliff wall. Some are deeply engraved, and some are mere scratches, but they all seem to have different messages.

“What... what is all this?” You question in wonder.

“Messages.” Jungkook answers. He turns to look at you, dropping the torch into your hand so that you can freely exam the numerous inscriptions. “That’s what people come to the river of stars to do. To leave a message that will last through all of time.”

You blink and turn to look at the river behind you. It just looks like a normal river, albeit at the bottom of a ravine. But there’s no glowing plants, and if you hadn’t just plummeted off the edge of a bridge, you wouldn’t even know there was a river.

“This... isn’t what I expected, when I pictured this place.” You finally say. “How did we survive that fall, Jungkook?”

When you turn to look at Jungkook, he is gazing out across the river with an almost forlorn look upon his face.

“Well, you’ve probably guessed this isn’t a normal river.” Jungkook says. “It’s actually got special magical properties- that’s how those glowing plants are able to grow here. And how you were able to survive the fall- this place is so filled with magic that amazing things can happen, like people plummeting hundreds of feet and surviving the fall, or beautiful, rare plants growing. Or rare mythical creatures being born.”

Jungkook turns to you and fans his arms out on either side of him, gesturing at the space around him.

“I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time. This river has another name, (Y/N).” He tells you. “It’s known as Gebulfen, the birthplace of the pixie. This is where I was born.”

“Where you were born?” Jin groans, sitting up and rubbing at his forehead. Jungkook’s eyes flicker over to the guardian in question.

“Is there an echo here? Why are you repeating what I just said?” He pouts. But he zooms over to Jin and lands on his outstretched knee. “Good work though. I wasn’t sure you’d work out what I meant when I told you that old saying, but you did!”

“You could have just said it outright.” Jin grumbles, hoisting himself to his feet. His gaze briefly flickers over you, assessing for injuries.

“Then the Saishtas would have worked out we were planning to jump.” Jungkook shrugged. “The only reason we had as much time as we did was because they thought we had nowhere to go.”

“I guess I can’t argue with that.” Jin grumbles, lifting his gaze to where you can just make out the outline of the great stone bridge you had plummeted from. “I guess they probably think we are dead now. Maybe it’ll be easier to get home.”

Home... that’s the next step of the journey for you. Jin’s words trigger the revelation for you- you’ve reached the end of your journey. You’ve finally made it to the River of Stars, like you’ve dreamed about for so many years. You stare in bewilderment across the smooth, dark surface of the river, taking in the soft sounds of the rushing water.

Gebulfen... the pixie birthplace. You had never heard that name before, nor had Jungkook ever chosen to share any information with you about his life in this realm.

“Are you disappointed?” The pixie in question asks, hovering close to your ear so that the rush of air from his wings tickles your ear. He flutters around to face you, before leaning in close and smiling. He hovers in the space between your eyes so that you have to go cross-eyed to focus on him. “That there’s no lights?”

“Ayla said there wouldn’t be.” Jin says, coming up to stand level with you. “I didn’t want to believe her, but it looks like-“

“Not so fast,” Jungkook hastily corrects Jin, fluttering forward to hold his tiny hands over Jin’s mouth so that he can’t talk anymore. “Ayla was incorrect. I can’t blame her, because it’s been over a thousand years since anyone has remembered the truth of this river. The lights do exist. But the plants only light up in response to a special kind of magic.”

“What magic?” You ask, unable to hold back your curiosity. You had come all this way to see the river lights, after all. Jungkook smiles, releasing Jin so that he can flutter up to you.

“I’ve always known you didn’t listen in your tutoring classes as a child because you didn’t know how I was born.” He tells you, instead of telling you what magic needs to be performed to see the lights. “Pixies are born of wishes, and they come to life at this very river. And our purpose... is to see the wish that birthed us come through.”

“What does that have to do with the river ligh-“ you protest but Jungkook cuts you off.

“Hush. I’m getting there. That’s what the plants respond to. Pixie magic.” He finishes his explanation. “Not my silly illusory spells, but real, ancient, powerful pixie magic.”

“So, to see the lights, and for (Y/N) to be able to go home, we... we have to grant whatever wish you were born to fulfill?” Jin asks, having always been a bit quicker than you to put things together. Jungkook nods, shooting two finger guns at the two of you playfully.

“Bingo!” Jungkook cries cheerfully. “You’re smarter than you look! Perhaps there’s use for you yet.”

An odd feeling fills you at Jungkook’s words, however. You’ve known the pixie for a long time. Despite his best efforts to appear constantly unbothered and joking, there’s a lot that Jungkook hides behind a smile. Like his longing to be human... his loneliness... the fact that there are hopes and dreams he’s always longed to fulfil but knows he never can. Jungkook has always hidden behind a smile and right now he’s hiding again.

“What... what are you hiding?” You ask. Jungkook looks taken aback, his eyes widening momentarily before he quickly conceals the expression.

“Shouldn’t you ask me what wish I need to grant? So that you can see the lights?” He points out. You shake your head, stepping in close, but Jungkook moves backwards, out of reach. His posture is now defensive, and you know, more certainly than ever, that Jungkook is hiding something. Why else would he not have mentioned the wish he was born to fulfil, in thirteen years of knowing you? Why is he only telling you the truth of Gebulfen now, after an entire journey travelling to see it?

“Jungkook...” you say softly, your voice barely audible above the rush of the river. He deflates at the soft, concerned tone of your voice. You hold your hands out to them, and he lands in them.

“I’ve always been really happy being with you, (Y/N).” Jungkook says, as you raise him so that he is eye level with you. He stretches out a hand and rests it against the tip of your nose. “With you, Taehyung... with your mother... even with that big oaf and his family over there. It’s been really fun. Even if I had to live in the human realm, I’ve always had friends. And I know you guys care a lot about me. So... I was never brave enough to bring up my wish. I wanted to stay with you guys, and to keep having fun. To keep learning to dance off YouTube, and to keep bringing your houseplants to life when they died... I liked stealing the cookies from your upstairs neighbour when she left the room and I liked swapping Jin’s shoes around before he left for work in the morning-“

“I knew that was you, you little twerp-“ Jin cries in outrage, but you silence him with a glare before turning your attention back to Jungkook. For some reason, he suddenly seems small and fragile in your hands in a way he never really has before.

“I knew... a part of me was always afraid that when I granted my wish, it would be goodbye.” He confesses, and for the first time in his entire life, a tear trickles down Jungkook’s face. You can only stare in bewilderment, barely processing his words.

“Goodbye?” You echo. Jungkook nods, with a teary smile.

“I don’t know what happens, to a pixie who has granted a wish. I’ve tried to research it- I’ve had Taehyung bring me back books from this realm, and I’ve studied the history. But in the entire history of this realm, of my race... there’s no mention of what happens to us after. There’s no pixie settlements or communities. There’s no monuments to our names... there’s nothing. It’s like we... it’s like we vanish.” He confesses, and the tears are coming full force. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should have granted this wish years ago but I was scared that I-“

“You might die?” You fill in for him. Jungkook hesitates for a moment before nodding.

“I don’t know.” He says. “There’s no pixie manual. I just know that I have to grant the wish and then-“

“Screw the wish!” You cry, cutting him off. Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“What?” He asks. You release him, stepping back and gazing around the ravine.

“Screw the wish.” You repeat, now searching for an echo. “Why risk your life? Why would I want you to risk your life? If you don’t know what happens if you grant the wish, then we’ll just never grant the wish and you’ll be fine-“

“(Y/N),” Jungkook calls sternly, zooming so that he’s in front of you. “I have to grant the wish.”

“Why?” You cry, and you realise there are tears sliding down your face. Jin watches the whole exchange in silence. “Why do you have to grant the risk? Why do we have to risk you vanishing? Why would you go that far over a stupid river?”

Jungkook smiles gently, reaching up one arm to wipe away the fat tears that spill down your face- it soaks the entire arm of his jacket.

“It was your father’s wish.” He tells you gently, still smiling the whole time.

You feel like the world around you freezes. Like for a moment, you heart stops beating and the world stops turning. You stare, frozen in shock, as Jungkook continues.

“He came here when you were first born. It’s a tradition for the Qu’var to journey to this river when they want to leave a message that will withstand the test of time. The river, and the unique magic that flows here, will protect it. But anyone who comes here has the river magic in them. And when those people make an earnest wish, from the bottom of their heart, then a pixie is born in this river. And your father, in his dying moments, many, many years after coming here, wished with all his heart that he could have shown you this place. That he could have shown you the message he wrote to his baby daughter. And that’s how I was born.”

“It’s not fair.” You sob, crying in full now. Jin is silent- he chooses not to step in. This isn’t about him, after all. “Why did he have to do that? Why could he have just lived and shown me himself? Why do I have to lose you too? Why can’t we just never see the message and then you can stay?”

“Because of the spell.” Jungkook reminds you. “You can’t go home until you see the dancing lights because of the charm I put on you. Do you remember?”

More tears spill down your face as you remember the spell in question. You had thought at the time, that it was Jungkook just trying to force you to get over yourself. You had believed him when he said he’d cast it so that you couldn’t chicken out of something you wanted to do. But you realise now why he cast that spell- it was so that he couldn’t chicken out. So that, no matter what, he’d grant his wish and get you to see that message.

“We’ll stay here. Jin can tell my mum what happened, and we can live out the rest of our days here!” You plead, desperate. “Then you don’t have to-“

“(Y/N).” Jungkook comes in close and presses on your cheek, until you are facing the cliff wall with all the inscriptions on it. Then he flutters over to the discarded torch, heaving it up in his arms with a huff, and holding it out to you. “It’s ok. It’s really ok. I want this. I’ve had my fun with you guys, but it’s not like I’ve really been living a proper life like this. The only people I can talk to are guardians, and they’re so scattered across the human realm. I spend my days watching YouTube videos and talking to moths and waiting for you guys to come home from work. I’ve lived this life as much as I can, but now it’s your turn. I want you to live a full and happy life, and for you to have a family and grow old in the human realm. I don’t want you to be trapped here with me so that I can live half a life for the rest of your days.”

“But,” you protest tearily. “You’re my best friend.”

“And you’re mine.” Jungkook says with a beam. “But now it’s time.”

And then he pushes your arm until the torch lands on an inscription with handwriting you thought you’d never see again.

Your father, even back then, even on stone, has always had beautiful writing, like he could have been a calligrapher if he had the time or resources. Perhaps that’s why he wanted to leave you a written message. You step forward in disbelief until you can read the inscription, the words of the man you’ve missed so much.

(Y/N),

My precious, beautiful daughter.

Your mother didn’t want me to make this journey, but she eventually gave in because she knew how important it was to me.

I wonder what kind of situation we’ll read these words together in? What kind of woman will you grow up to be? Will you be married with children when I finally take you here? That little Seokjin is only a toddler but he’s already charming all the ladies in the village- maybe you’ll marry him! Or I hear Jihye is pregnant. Perhaps her child?

But the reason I wrote this is because I want you to know that no matter what happens, or what roads we walk down in the future, that I will love you and protect you with all of my heart. You are the most beautiful and precious thing I have ever laid my eyes on, and I hope you will always know that.

I love you. I hope that one day, even if it’s without me, that you get to see these words and know, that from before you were born, I have loved you.

Please, please, whatever situation you read these words in, please be happy.

From your father.

The inscription is rough beneath your fingers as you smooth your fingers over it. It hurts to see those words, to know the moments you can never have with your father because he’s gone. And you’ll never get him back. There’s no magic spells or special river or pixie magic that can bring him back to you.

But, for the first time, you find yourself smiling. Those memories don’t have to be painful. Because you fulfilled his wish- you’re happy. As you read these words, despite everything, you are happy. You have friends and family who love you and who you treasure beyond belief. And it took you a long time to realise it, but you’re so grateful. You’ll never get your father back, and you’ll never fill the hole that he left, but you can be happy. You can move forward with a smile on your face because that’s what he wanted.

Strong fingers wrap around your outstretched hand, and you turn to find Jin reading the words alongside you.

“He was a good man.” Jin tells you softly, and you smile at him. Jin looks like he has more to say, but he is interrupted by the brilliant glow coming from behind you.

You turn around and find Jungkook hovering before you. He glows brightly amidst the darkness of the ravine, almost as brightly as the stars overhead. And slowly, the river reacts too. One by one, bursts of light in different, brilliant colours appear and race down the length of the river, like bright, shooting stars. “The dancing river”, one of its many names, suddenly makes sense, as the lights zip and glide along the surface of the water.

“You did it!” Jungkook cries, and his smile is brighter than anything you’ve ever seen. You scramble forward, but the glow intensifies, and a brilliant light wall springs up between you and Jungkook.

“No!” You cry. “Please! Don’t go, Jungkook. We still have so much to do together! Please!”

“Be happy, (Y/N).” He calls and then the light brightens until you can see nothing but pure white.

And then it goes dark. In the absence of light, you can’t see anything before you. Jungkook is gone- he’s gone. Your best friend, your constant, pesky companion, is gone.

You fall to your knees, sinking into the soft, damp sand, sobbing hysterically.

“Jungkook.” You cry, your eyes squeezed shut. “Jungkook!”

Your friendship with Jungkook has always been a funny one. You first met him in the dingy room of a motel your mother had managed to book into, those first few nights in the human realm. You hadn’t been able to sleep- the air was uncomfortable and dry and felt leeched of the warm, buzzing magic that had been your constant companion.

You’d snuck out of the room that night and wondered onto the rooftop. Even the stars are dull, in the human realm, and for some reason it had hurt to see that. You’d gazed up into the sky, tear streaming down your face when a voice had sounded beside you.

“What are you looking at?” The little voice had asked.

The rest is history. You’d attempt to swat Jungkook, thinking him to be a mosquito hybrid, one of the weird creatures of this new realm. But he hadn’t been. He was a pixie. And from there, Jungkook had never really left your side. At night, he would sleep on your pillow beside you. When you’d gotten your own room, you’d made a little doll house for him to sleep in, but he’d always slept by your side. He would come with you to school, nestled in your pocket. Some days he’d take some space, but it had reached the point where you can barely remember spending time without him.

And now… could he really be gone? How can he? What does life even look like without him? You can’t fathom it.

You don’t know how long you sit there crying hysterically for, but eventually you feel warm, strong arms wrap around you. It must be Jin, comforting you through the pain of losing your best friend. You bring your fingers up to grip at the material of his shirt.

“(Y/N)!” Jin cries in alarm. But it’s not coming from the proximity you’d expect, considering that he’s currently holding you. No, his voice is coming from somewhere behind you.

Slowly, you blink your eyes open, and the sleeves of the jacket are not the sleeves of Jin’s jacket. Nor do the arms holding you belong to him. Slowly, you trace the arms up to the shoulders, and then you meet the face of the person holding you.

It’s Jungkook. But at the same time... it’s not Jungkook. Jungkook was a tiny pixie, with iridescent wings like a dragonfly. With a tiny, round face. He was the size of your hand.

But the person who holds you is human. There are no pixie wings in sight, and he’s the same size as you- no, he’s even bigger. He rivals Jin’s size.

But the face is unmistakeably Jungkook. You’d know those round, doe eyes anywhere.

“J-Jungkook?” You question softly. He pulls away and nods, staring at his palms in confusion like he’s never seen them before. “W-what happened?”

“I... I don’t know.” He answers, running his hands over himself. He’s wearing the same clothes as before, and he looks exactly the same as he always has, just... human sized.

“I... I’m human?”

“It must be the effect of granting the spell.” Jin calls, edging closer so that he can examine Jungkook with wonder. “Maybe... maybe the reason there’s no record of any pixies after they grant the wishes... is because they stop being pixies?”

Jungkook can only stare in confusion.

“Isn’t your dearest wish to be human? To be able to talk to people and make friends and form human bonds?” Jin continues to reflect. “Maybe... maybe the outcome of a pixie granting a wish... is that they get their deepest wish granted?”

Jungkook just stares with a bewildered expression, glancing over his shoulders for wings that aren’t there. He then scrambles over to the edge of the river, staring in wonder at the human reflection that stares back, from the normal, rounded ear tips to the lack of wings.

“I’m human?” He questions. Tears fill your eyes as you realise that what Jin is saying is true.

“You’re human!” You agree. “Jungkook! You’re human!”

His whole face lights up in excitement.

“I’m human! Oh my goodness! I’m human! I can go to dance classes! I can study in college! I can get a job! I can... I can...” his expression darkens with mischief and that’s the only warning you get before he hooks an arm around your neck and gives you the most painful noogie of your life. “I can get my revenge.”

Needless to say, the aftermath of such a transformation is absolutely chaotic, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to be mad. Jungkook goes after Jin next, and as Jin flees for his life, you find yourself smiling, despite everything.

Please be happy, is what your father had pleaded, in the magic of this mystical river.

I am, dad. Is what you answer from the bottom of your heart in the magic of the river.

Because you are.

#jin x reader #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #castlebangtan #thebtswritersclub #writing

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silence-burns · 4 years ago

Text

Please Hate Me //part 41

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter

The air was crisp and buzzing with tension as you walked through the forest that was a part of the endless gardens surrounding the palace. No matter how far you ventured, the palace still rose behind your back, melted into the very core of the mountain piercing the clouds.

The river shimmered somewhere to your right as you followed Loki through the thicket.

"You okay?" he asked again, casting you a glance over his shoulder.

You just nodded, a little breathless after circling around the fallen trees and muddy holes.

The reason behind Loki's concern was getting nearer with each step. Magic was sizzling in the air, filled with energy not unlike one of a storm front's lightning about to strike. You'd passed a few bird-like creatures on your way there, but they didn't dare come close to the Rift. Double sets of wigs took them away and into safer spots. A three-eyed doe disappeared among gnarled trees, shedding starlight as it skittled off. Even the plants, usually a feral mass of color, seemed all to have withered the closer you got to the Rift. The only things left were dried, greyish branches and rotten greens of mud slipping upwards over them.

Loki stopped at the edge of a clearing and took your hand. Your breath came out in clouds against the icy cold that shouldn't have been possible on the Edge.

In the center of the clearing hovered a rip. It was a long, sharp wound that filled you with a sense of wrongness. The mud in the direct closeness to it rose as if sucked by phantom winds and entered the dark, narrow space where it sizzled and disappeared. There was nothing natural in the way it made your skin crawl, even despite the safe distance between you.

You couldn't blame anyone in the palace for wanting to stop it from spreading. Even if it meant complicating your life.

Loki must've sensed your tension. He ran a hand over your back in a soothing manner, as he often did to calm you down.

"We're far enough from it to be safe from its influence," he said.

"Are you sure it'll be enough to hide your magic?"

"I think so. Opening a portal requires a lot of energy from Bifrost, but the Rift should help us hide the evidence."

"If it opens at all," you reminded him.

"Indeed," Loki sighed, getting ready for the inevitable.

Having been almost murdered by a huge spider put both of you in an uneasy situation. No matter how you looked at it, it became obvious that your little investigation was definitely going against someone's plans.

It would be dangerous to try and point a finger at anyone without evidence. Everyone you'd met so far had a motive. Your only wonder was the ambassador's role in this tangled mess - was he working with someone, or trying to correct the balance on his own? The notes found in his study were quite clear about his interest in the value of life on the Edge. The bloodiest conflicts in its history led to centuries of peace and freedom from Rifts forming, but was such bloodshed even possible anymore, let alone worth it? Was the ambassador's death just a door to achieving it through a new war against Asgard? Or was it simply a suicide?

Loki and you spent a large part of the morning looking over the few facts in your possession, feeling like you were piecing a puzzle together without ever seeing the original picture. They had to connect somehow, and make sense through the details, but no matter how you looked at them, you still missed something vital.

Those were frustrating hours that only resulted in making your heads hurt from coming up with increasingly bizarre theories. It was a good thing then, that you never left the bed and could relax for a while. There were marks on your bodies left from the night, and it took you both a while to retrace them. It took you longer to add some new ones, in ways that still made your toes curl thinking about it. Unfortunately, as pleasant as it was, it couldn't last forever.

Which was what led you to decide to change the course of action a little bit, and play by a different set of rules. Neither Loki nor you were allowed to leave the Edge, but who would be there to blame you for it if no one ever found out? There were interesting places in the universe to pay a little visit to.

One of those places was Asgard, where Loki claimed to have hidden a handy little device he had frequently used to trace even the thinnest whispers of magic back to its original caster. It was a long shot, considering how long ago he set foot in his chambers, but unless they'd been completely trashed, his secret stash should still hold.

There were a few ways of sneaking into Asgard without notice, but Loki had to admit none of them led from the Edge.

That left you with only one choice. A choice that made Loki's skin crawl.

"Stay here," he braced through his discomfort and offered you a tight-lipped smile. "I'll see what I can do."

You watched him walk a few steps away. Loki held his chin high and shoulders square as he faced the dome of the neverending night overhead.

"Listen, Heimdall, I know it's been a while, but don't you dare pretend you haven't been lurking-..."

You leaned on a nearby boulder, carved with some intricate, needle-thin patterns. There was no reason you could come up with carving some huge boulder and then leaving it in the middle of a forest, but it was a good place to let your legs rest for a moment anyway.

Loki left his bottomless bag with you as he continued his one-sided conversation, working himself up the more words poured out of him. He wasn't the most detailed about his relation with the being operating Biforst and guarding Asgard's borders, but from the way Loki talked about him, it was clear they weren't friends. What Loki had to ask of him now was a risky favor he had little hope would succeed.

He tried it anyway, humiliating as it might make him feel.

You watched him. His conversation turned into a rather heated argument, as one sided as it was.

You looked up at the clusters of stars and galaxies passing the immeasurable expanse of the universe. Rarely had you felt so small and irrelevant.

"You know," you said quietly, "Loki's really trying. He's doing his best, despite how shitty it is here. It's unfair how everybody expects so much out of him, but don’t consider how overwhelmed he is with all that's expected of him. No wonder he tries to hide it. It's hard to live knowing you'll never be what people want you to become, and how they are willing to force and shape you into what they'd rather have. But he's trying. He really is, and even now, he just needs this thing from Asgard to let us have some evidence and finish this investigation before we get killed for trying. Loki's amazing and capable, but even he needs some help sometimes, and I think now is one of those times. I try to help him as much as I can, but it's not me he needs right now. Just… be kinder on him, okay? If you're truly listening, I mean."

You sighed, biting your lip. The wind picked up some rogue leaves and dust, and took them away from the unnatural blemish looming to your right. The Rift was suspended mid-air, as if air itself had been torn and whatever lurked underneath the surface of reality, waited for the moment when it got wide enough to pass through.

The weather on the Edge was mild usually, but you couldn't help a shudder from running down your back.

Loki cursed in a language you didn't know.

"At least we tried," he shrugged.

There was a tight smile on his face, but it couldn't hide his disappointment completely. He would think of another way out, though, he just needed some time.

Just as you were taking his bag and began to walk toward him, light enveloped both of you, and a familiar, gut-wrenching feeling threatened to bring the contents of your stomach to daylight.

There was surprise in Loki's eyes, and a thread of hope as he reached out to you and gathered you in his arms. Clinging to him would be much more pleasant if the atoms weren't ripped out of your bodies, but before you blinked, the Bifrost plucked you out. Where you'd been standing, only faintest scorch marks remained. The Rift buzzed, but there was nothing for it to feed on.

Pressing your face into Loki's chest didn't look dignified, but it helped you get through the blinding rush of universe passing you by. Your heart hammered against your chest, but Loki's arms held steady around you until all finally stopped.

Peeling yourself from him took a considerable amount of effort, but once you did, both your fear and nausea dissipated. As it had happened with the Edge, the first thing that hit you was the smell you could only describe as otherworldly. It wasn't strong, but it filled you with the certainty that you were the stranger in this place of blinding gold.

Loki and you arrived in a circular room at the end of a bridge casting rainbow reflexes under the setting sun. It was a beautiful thing, but you could only spare it a single look before a figure stepped down from the dais in the center.

The man clad in armor of gold didn't budge at your gawking. Loki might be tall, but even in his own armor, he didn't look so menacing.

"Hello, Heimdall," Loki nodded calmly, even though his arm was still on your back. "Long time no see, or at least on my side."

"Coming here was an unwise choice," the warrior's voice boomed in the small space. He sheathed the impossibly long sword with ease.

Loki put an unnerving smirk on his face. "And yet you got me through."

You could've sworn Heimdall's eyes rested on you for the briefest moment.

"So I did," was all he said, though.

That was not an answer Loki had expected. He was tense, as if readying himself to argue or fight, but there was nothing about Heimdall that would suggest the need for that. The great Gatekeeper just stood, and waited.

"We won't stay long," you promised carefully, breaking the silence.

Loki loved you for it.

"I have to retrieve something for the mission so thoughtfully commissioned to me. " He kept his chin high, not yielding a step.

Staying composed and calm was an uneasy task in front of Asgard's most vigilant guardian. Loki had changed since he was a mere child, but something from those days stayed with him in the way he had to crane his neck to look into Heimdall's face. The Asgardian didn't change at all, or so it seemed. He was still an unbreakable mountain, with golden eyes capable of seeing all and knowing all.

"I won't linger any longer than necessary," Loki added into the silence. "I know I'm not welcome."

Heimdall took in the young Prince, who had grown strong, despite how cruel life had been to him. Then he turned his all-seeing eyes to you, noting the defiance in your pose, and the tension on your face, as if you were ready to throw fists with him, had the bargaining not worked. And based on the firm grip Loki now had over your shoulder, the Prince was aware of that.

There was a hint of a smile on Heimdall's face, but it was obscured by the golden helmet and the shadows lurking beneath it.

"Then go, and be quick about it."

You cheered and quickly moved to the bridge, but Loki lingered, just a while longer.

"Why?" he asked, the frown not fully gone from his brows.

The Gatekeeper moved back to the dais, rising in the center.

"I serve Asgard, and Asgard I protect," he said. "If war is imminent, I shall spill my share of blood, but if there's a chance to stop it from ever happening, I shall take that chance."

The Guardian stood tall on the dais, as he did for as long as Loki's memory went, overlooking the portal and all the worlds it opened to. Loki bowed curtly, even though Heimdall's back was to him. The golden armor flared in the rays of the setting sun, but never before had it looked so heavy.

You waited for him at the bridge, and despite the towers of gold and glass piercing the clouds ahead, they were secondary in your eyes, following Loki's steps instead.

There was something unwinding in him, as if only then it truly occurred to him where he came back to. He knew that bridge, and the palace shining brightly in the sun heading to rest beyond the shore, and the salty waves that would swallow it in a few hours. Until the very moment his feet hit the bridge, Loki wasn't even aware of the ache deep in his bones that had finally eased.

He kissed your brow and cast a glamor over both of you. Heimdall might've been forgiving, but the guards stationed at the gates far up ahead likely weren't.

"Let's go, love," he said, leading you by the hand.

"Are you sure we won't be noticed? There's nowhere for us to hide on the bridge."

The waves crashed underneath it, and seagulls screamed overhead as you walked. The glamour made both of you look almost translucent, or at least it did in your eyes. You had no idea if it would work against others, in a world where magic was a common thing.

Loki pointed ahead, where the guards were stationed at the far end of the bridge. "They have sensors sensitive enough to mark any ounce of magic on travelers."

"Makes sense. What do we do?"

"We shed the glamour."

You blinked. The seagulls overhead shared your confusion. "Wouldn't that make us visible, though?"

Mischievous light filled his eyes. "Not if we slip on a secret little passage beneath the bridge beforehand, and only there recall all the magic around us. We wouldn't want to alert anyone, would we?"

"Oh dear, sounds like someone was a naughty little kid," you laughed.

"And look at what's become of me. It's a wonder I hadn’t been banished centuries ago."

"They are idiots for doing that now."

The sheer conviction in your voice made Loki imagine Odin hearing that from you. You wouldn't balk or juggle around, that he was sure of. And would pay to see that, even if it earned him a few more centuries of banishment.

The guards were closer now. Loki looked around for the tiny mark on the carved railing he made long ago.

"Do you trust me?" he whispered in your ear, approaching the railing. The shore was close enough to see the waves crashing down on the blackened rocks, but still not close enough to jump to it.

You looked down at the foaming chaos of the sea crashing against the pillars and stone. "I mean, I wouldn't trust you with a car, but I literally traveled worlds with you, so I guess I do?"

"That's fair," he said and jumped over the railing.

Despite yourself, you rushed to it, half expecting to see his bloodied corpse sprawled over the jagged rocks. The wicked grin on his face told you enough.

"You're an ass," you growled, quietly enough not to alert the guards posted nearby.

"You love my ass, don't lie to yourself," Loki reached out to you, urging you down.

Crawling over the railing wet from the sea mist was not the way you imagined this day to go, but the steady form of Loki waiting below made you a little less nervous as you let go of the cold metal and fell into his arms.

"Welcome back," the smug bastard dared to smirk at you as he navigated the barely noticeable path over the rocks.

You noticed the glamour disperse as you neared what would be the gates overhead. The width of the bridge hid you from the guards' eyes though. Loki skittered over the rocks, somehow finding just the right place to step on.

Despite his grip on you, you couldn't help but wince every time the cold waves crashed beneath you, the mist spraying high. The path was winding and barely noticeable. Every leap between the rocks made you tighten your arms around Loki's shoulders.

"I know you like to joke around," you managed to say with the heart in your throat, "but please don't fake-fall or something."

"As you wish."

The shore neared soon. Sand never felt so much like a blessing than when Loki finally put you down on the steady ground. The cliffs to your left hid you from the guards' outpost, but Loki didn't want to linger there any longer than necessary. The patrols rarely visited the narrow stretch of a beach, but it was not impossible.

Loki knew every stone and thorny bush on this side of Asgard. He led you up the cliffs hanging high, through a path concealed so much it looked as only the wild prey might've ever used it. You stopped only for a moment, to look over to the sea and the evening reflexes in deep shades of orange and red playing over its surface.

Loki waited for you a few feet ahead, with an expression you’d rarely seen on him.

"We'll get in through the stables," he said when you almost reached the top.

The glamour was back on you as you sprinted through the lush, green fields surrounding the plain in front of long barracks. People were rushing in and out, and no one noticed two additional sets of steps in the loose hay and sand as you snuck inside.

Most of the boxes were closed already, horses and hunting dogs readied for the night. In one or two you passed by, you could've sworn you'd seen winged creatures, but there was no way of getting close enough to them with so many people around.

Loki led you out of the stables through a courtyard, to a narrow pathway and up the steps carved in stone to a more pronounced building. The doors were open, but no guards stood the watch there. Coming closer, the smells betrayed the reason. Kitchens, even in another world, always seemed to be a place steaming with sweat, spilled food, and not enough hands to control every pot around.

Bent low, you followed Loki below the long tables, yielding under the weight of all the dishes prepared. Feet stumped around in a rush, plates landed heavily on the counters, and the absolutely divine smells made your stomach grumble. Loki must've felt the same because his hand reached out for a few freshly baked pastries at the same time as yours, pocketing them with a knowing wink.

You slipped out into a dim corridor, for the interior use of the kitchens and took the doors to a pantry full of meats and sacks of something stored by the walls.

In the far corner, Loki moved old, rotting boards to the side and revealed a small, dusty corridor hidden behind them.

"After you.” He bowed.

You looked at the webs and thought of their owners. "I'd prefer to stay in the back, if you don't mind."

He only laughed and broke the thick webs before crawling inside.

It wasn't long, and soon opened to a winding staircase full of dust and only a few slits instead of windows somewhere ahead allowing the faintest shreds of light inside.

"A long time ago, part of the kitchens was located upstairs," Loki explained when he sat down on one of the steps. "This was a shortcut used mostly by the kitchen boys who had to run around all day, but it hasn't been used for centuries. I used to hide here with whatever I managed to sneak out of the kitchens."

"And it looks like you haven't changed much since then," you observed, as you both pulled the pastries from your pockets. Even in the narrow space with little to no fresh air, they still smelled absolutely delicious.

There were crunching noises as you both devoured them in record time. You hadn’t even noticed how hungry you were until you took that first damned bite. Minutes later, only a few crumbs were left, scattered on the narrow steps below.

You caught Loki looking at a few stains of old ink that surely none of the kitchen boys had left.

"So many hours I had spent here, feeling like an outcast among my own family," he said, tracing them with fingers. "And here I am again, as mere outlaw, no closer to them than I ever was. Do you think I'm even capable of changing?"

There was no sorrow in his voice, not really. Loki had enough time to dwell over the same question over and over again that it no longer bore its initial weight. He was no closer to finding the answer, but at least it no longer hurt.

Loki didn't budge as you slipped into his lap. He only turned to look at you when your hands cupped his face.

"You are here, because you made a conscious decision to do everything in your might to prevent that pointless bloodshed and war from happening. You could have ran - look how easy it would be to just sneak out and hide in some remote location far from responsibility. Still, you chose to stay and do your best, and even if that doesn't answer your question directly, I think it's something worth keeping in mind."

Loki didn't answer. The dust in the air turned into gold as it hit the narrow rays of the setting sun. His eyes were closed as he pulled you into a slow, contemplative kiss.

He had countless memories of the hours spent on that staircase. There were books he had all but devoured, and pages he had reread until he'd had them memorized. There were tiny spells he practiced where nothing would burn or get destroyed by untrained fingers. There were cookies and cakes and sometimes even some wine hidden from all eyes.

And there was you, in this place of cold stone and times long since gone. Tasting you, Loki was reminded that no matter what the past had brought, the future was still a mystery worthy of waiting for.

"Thank you," he muttered breathlessly into your lips.

#please hate me #loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki marvel #loki laufeyson marvel #loki #loki imagine #loki mcu #loki series #loki reader insert #Loki Laufeyson #I Love Loki #loki fanfiction

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miki-snake · 4 years ago

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📖: freesias are all what you can think of, so much it feels like they’re taking your breath away and crushing your lungs ⭕️: angst, unrequited love, hanahaki disease, mentions of possible death 🔍: 5.2k+

taglist: @sugasugawarau, @drabblily, @igenll

A/N: It didn’t come out as angsty as I wanted it to be but well,,, hope you can still enjoy it and thanks to @igenll and @drabblily for giving me feedback on my work, ily two!

Hanahaki disease is a fictional disease, where flowers are growing inside of your lungs. Starting with coughing up petals and flowers until eventually the flower is blocking all of your airways and you die.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

“Alright, let’s meet up today. I gotta tell you some great news!”

You remembered his words as you sat down on the ground, blooming freesias adorning the stretched out field. The infinite blue sky was drowned in streaks of orangey-reds, like clouds dipped into the image of dusk and hung up on earth’s ceiling, leaving them open to dry. It was a picture out of a fairy tale, the scene so serene it felt like you were trapped inside a painting. You had to think about him, Terushima Yuuji, the colorful accents of the landscape reminding you of him. Freesias, his favorite kind of flowers, were holding the meaning of energy and being energetic. Just like him.

He was like the flicking neon lights on the late night streets, the lightning thundering down on the sea, the adrenaline rushing through the veins and the sunlight strays shining through the blinds of your room.

It was always fun to be around Yuuji, seeing him smile and grow into someone he could be proud of. You knew him since you changed to his middle school and up until now you two were like the sun and the moon. Inseparable and completing each other but opposites nonetheless.

He was the light that helped people to grow, the warmth of a sunny evening that would touch the hearts of the ones around him, while you were always swaying between flood and tide, shining only on the ones who couldn’t sleep at night.

Watching him was blinding you, though you couldn’t look away. He was always in the spotlight, not that it was his intention but people were naturally drawn to his outgoing personality and comedic behavior, like moths to the light. He was loud, wild and carefree but it was the silent nights you enjoyed the most.

It was just him lying in the field of freesias, while you made flower crowns out of them, placing them on his disheveled hair as he smiled up at you like he just won a prize. Sometimes he would braid your hair with the flowers inside of them, telling you how it looked good on you and that he wanted to do that more often. It was sure that when the sun goes down, the moon would grace the sky but when you looked at him like that, under the starry lights, it was like the sunlit day and the moonlit night would merge with each other, creating the impossible paradise you two found. Just like the others you were naturally drawn to him like gravity and there was no way you could turn around and leave him. So, you just kept him company until you were sure that he would leave you.

Your feelings for Yuuji ran deeper than any roots of a million years old trees, they were stronger than any natural force in the universe and they weighed heavier on you than any stone you could find on earth.

At first it was a light feeling of a crush, just like a summer breeze making you feel a little lighter when you were around him. Slowly, it turned into something you couldn’t name, it was more than a crush but surely you wouldn’t call it love just yet. It was a tingling feeling in your gut every time he looked at you and a prickling sensation on your skin where he left his touches. Though you were aware of your emotions and the way your thoughts on him shifted, you weren’t ready to approach him as more than a friend.

It was no secret that Yuuji had a great fan base of girls and occasionally boys. He was popular among young and old alike. While you waited and watched how person after person confessed their feelings to him, your inability to own up to your feelings made it harder for you to speak up. The butterflies in your stomach turned into a turmoil of clashing thoughts that crushed you into the ground, making you feel like it was getting harder to breathe.

It felt like he was moving further away and you could only stop him by screaming his name. Of course you two still talked to each other and you acted like everything was totally fine, even though it was quite the opposite of it. As hard as you tried to call out to him, every time you opened your mouth you just started to cough. Those uncontrollable attacks grew more frequent, especially when you were alone with your thoughts.

The first time you realized that something was definitely wrong was during another one of those coughing attacks and you felt how something fell out of your mouth and into your hand. Opening the fist of yours, you could see something small, something in the color of red but it wasn’t blood, it was something that looked just like a flower petal.

The thought alone was scaring you, how did that even come out of you, no chance a plant would grow inside of your body. At first though, you didn’t want to visit the doctor and chose to take normal medicine to treat your sore throat. The attacks kept coming and going but in front of others you could normally hold yourself back, sometimes you still found one or two petals falling to your feet but never once did you make a doctor’s appointment.

Until on that one particular day.

It was on the weekend, the day just started for you and you already got a phone call from the boy that was haunting your dreams and occupied your mind. He was talking about how the two of you should definitely go to the fields again and he had some exciting news for you to hear.

To be honest, you couldn’t stop the fast beating of your heart, the moment he told you that he had something to tell you. Something inside of you wanted to believe that maybe it would be a proclamation of love at your favorite spot. Of course you agreed to meet up with him and somehow it felt a little easier for you to breathe. Like those "imaginary" branches inside your lungs finally made some space for fresh air to rush in.

Arriving at the agreed time you could already see his figure standing there, hands shoved inside the pockets of the red jacket he always wore. He looked like the same Yuuji as always, he looked like your Yuuji and as he turned around you could see how his face broke out into a bright smile. Instantly a wave of contentment rushed through your body, it was nearly silly that he could make you feel like that. How just one smile, no, just the look of him made your heart beat in the rhythm of your favorite song, your lips lift up into a real smile and your skin prickled in anticipation, feeling every passing gust of wind.

It was bordering on crazy how far you fell for him and that your love was engulfing all of you that you couldn’t even move anymore. Still, you moved forward, ready to fall all over again.

Right when you reached the top he took your arm and pulled you with him, both of you falling into the sea of blooming dreams.

Landing on the ground you could hear the loud and melodic laugh of your friend, obviously enjoying the little stunt you two just performed. You turned your head to the side to catch a glimpse of his face and he took your breath away. He just laid there, eyes closed and laughter tumbling out of his mouth. He looked so genuinely happy it felt like flowers were blooming inside of your chest, the butterflies residing in your stomach flying around.

He caught his breath again and turned to also look at you. Your eyes met and you could gaze into his almond looking eyes, drowning in the comfort he radiated.

Right then and there you wished you’d had the ability to just put the time on hold. You wanted to watch him smile at you like that for the rest of your life, wishing for this moment to never die, a part of you didn't even care anymore if he loved you back. Every fiber of your body just wanted to be by his side, no matter what he thought of you. Still, you couldn’t deny the yearning inside your heart, like a flower that tried to reach out for the sunlight.

Suddenly he sat up, taking your hands into his to pull you up and looked you straight in the eyes. “Alright, I wanted to tell you something important, so could you hear me out?”, he asked you, excitement evident in his voice. Seeing him so earnest made you shudder and you couldn’t trust your voice, so you just nodded your head. “Great! Actually you’re the first person I’m telling it and yeah… wow somehow I’m nervous.”, he chuckled and the fact that he was nervous directly transferred over to you, making you feel even more jiddy. “Okay, I guess I’ll just tell you. I ehm.. I have a girlfriend! I think you might even know her, she went to the same high school…”, the rest of what he was telling you was drowned out by your roaring thoughts.

Terushima Yuuji. The Terushima Yuuji, your best friend, had a girlfriend? How did that happen? You wished you could listen to what he was saying but no matter how hard you tried to, your mind just slipped elsewhere. The news came crashing down on you, like standing underneath an ice cold waterfall. Honestly, if you’d stand underneath one in that moment, you’d want to drown in it. You fell hard and you fell all over again but you also fell into nowhere, no one ready to catch you. The part in you that hoped to hear a confession from him withered away, petal after petal falling into the pit where the shards of your heart can be found. Well, you did hear a confession, even a confession of love, just not for you.

It felt like roses were wrapped around your bleeding heart, their thorns piercing through it.

You had truly lost him to someone in the past and now there was no way for you to make him hear your voice again. It wasn’t disappointment you felt, it wasn’t anger you felt and it wasn’t sadness. It was a tight feeling in your throat, you felt like you would choke on all the emotions that went through you. You felt restricted and you lifted your hands to your chest, pressing against it to try and relieve the pain you felt.

All your pent up emotions were exploding inside of your ribcage, threatening to rise up your throat, so you only had the choice to either spit them out or to choke on them. You couldn’t hold back the cough, something blocking your throat and you desperately tried to get some air in your lungs. Fear was consuming your mind as it was getting harder and harder for you to control yourself. One of your hands clasped against your mouth because you already feared the sight of colorful petals rushing out of you. You wanted to understand what was going on but you weren’t able to grasp a coherent thought, your body shaking uncontrollably.

The feeling of two hands on your shoulders brought you back to reality and you tried to look at the person holding you. Your sight was blurry due to the tears in your eyes, the pain of barely getting enough air and the ache in your throat causing you to tear up. “Y/n, what’s happening?”, Terushima pulled you up until you were standing, or rather leaning into him.

“Please, do you need water? You have to try and tell me something.”, he panicked and moved you with him downhill. “If you don’t stop we need to get help. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”, abruptly you stood still and shook your head no. It couldn’t be that severe that you really needed to go to the hospital. It’ll probably pass soon, just like always. You wanted to tell him that but you still struggled with stopping your attack. It was never this strong before and you didn’t know why it was now all of the sudden. “Y/n it’s not getting better, I don’t care if you don’t want to go, I’m just gonna pick you up.”, he threatened you and in an instant you felt your feet being lifted off of the ground. He was holding you bridal style and ran towards his car, while you just tried to stay conscious.

I’m sorry but my friend needs help please, she’s been coughing all the time and it didn’t stop for a second!”, you could hear footsteps rushing over to you and a pair of hands guided you through the room. Terushima’s voice rang after you through the hallway, “Wait, I need to go with her!”. His voice sounded so scared and you wanted to turn around, telling him that everything will be fine but you couldn’t. Not only because your body was shaking from all the coughing but also because you knew you couldn’t bear to look at him right now. You heard how a nurse spoke up and tried to calm him down but it wasn’t that easy for you to hear. It was like cotton was pressed against your ears, muffling all the noises around you. Reaching a room, you sat down on a bed and tried to concentrate on what the doctor was talking about to the nurse. It was all in a blurr, your senses slowly shutting down.

The hand that covered your mouth started to lose the strength to stay in place and so a rush of petals came out with your coughs, sinking down and piling up in a mess of your emotions on the white floor. After that you couldn’t really remember much, your mind drifting off into a bitter sweet slumber.

Awoken from a loud beeping sound, your eyes tried to open but the bright light behind your eyelids made it nearly impossible. “Oh, so you're awake.”, a female voice rang in your ear as you turned your head to the side and forced one of your eyes to open up. A woman, probably a nurse, stood next to your bed working on the machine you were apparently plugged to. Trying to push yourself up into a sitting position you heard the nurse talk to you again. “Wait, take it easy. I’m gonna go and get the doctor, so he can explain the situation to you but I need you to stay put alright?”, she exclaimed and before you could reply in any way she turned around and rushed out of the door.

Now you remember, you were in the hospital. Looking over to the spot where the mess of flowers should be, you could see it all gone. Right, somehow your body produced flowers and they were probably the reasons why you had a hard time breathing. At least you were brought into the hospital on time before you choked to death.

Realization hit you like a road truck and you nearly fell from the bed. Terushima brought you to the hospital. He brought you here because you two met up. And you two met up because he had to tell you something important to him. He had a girlfriend.

The twing inside of you came back, the memories of his words rushed into your mind. It was so ridiculous how you got the worst attack with the hardest pain right in the moment he told you he had someone else he loved. It felt like life was looking down on you, cruelly laughing and testing how far a human heart can bend until it would snap in two.

You remembered how the pain bored deep into your bones and how moving and breathing was near impossible. Even though you should probably be concerned about your own health, the hurt of Terushima’s confession slightly overshadowed the uneasiness you felt towards the whole situation.

Terushima Yuuji had a girlfriend and it wasn’t you. His love would shine on someone else so they could bloom under his light and his warmth would bring someone else the comfort of home. He wouldn’t be your Yuuji anymore, he never was. Now, he was just Terushima a good friend of yours, well, more likely your best friend but the thought of being so close to him and not being as close as you wished to be, hurt you too much. People could call you a bad friend but you wouldn’t care because after you leave this building, you need time for yourself to heal.

The sun would go down instead of rising for you and sure, it might have been stupid of you to try and reach the sun, when you were nothing more than the moon. Not to be compared with Icarus, who flew too close to the sun and fell down into the sea in which he drowned. No, you weren’t even close enough anymore to feel the heat of the sun. It was only natural for you to not get close to him because when the sun rises the moon would go down and when it was time for the moon to shine, the sun would move to the other side.

You swam so deep in the sea of thoughts that you nearly missed the pair of footsteps passing through the door. Your eyes followed the noise and you could see the nurse from before but this time a doctor accompanied her.

They didn’t beat around the bush too much, introduced them, asked you how you were feeling and then they dropped the bomb. Apparently, you suffered from a disease called “Hanahaki”, which was a pretty rare disease and affected your respiratory system. More specifically it meant that a flower was growing inside of your lungs and it would eventually lead to the point where the plant would hinder you from breathing or even making it impossible for you to breathe. To say you were confused was an understatement. You sure weren’t working in the field of medicine but never did you hear of the Hanahaki disease. Well, they did say it was rare but it was still unbelievable. What on earth would cause a flower to grow inside of your lungs.

They showed you an x-ray of your lungs. There you could see it, the flower. And not any flower, no, it was a freesia. You’ve seen it so many times you were one hundred percent sure about it. The doctor must have seen the shocked look inside your eyes and fastly continued with his explanation. You weren’t prepared to hear about your disease but you sure as hell didn’t expect what he was telling you next. The reason behind all of this was nothing more than simply love. Unrequited love to be exact. The moment you heard those words coming out of his mouth, you felt how your heart sank into your stomach.

So, this is what you get for loving too hard. Not only a broken heart but also a deathly disease. Just great.

Moving on he told you about the options you had.

Option 1: going under surgery and getting the flower removed, which would cure you and ultimately lead to you forgetting about the feelings you had for Terushima. Still, another side-effect might be to completely forget the person you loved.

Option 2: die. Simple as that, just dying. The plant would keep growing until it blocked every way for you to breath.

After they told you everything you needed to know, they stepped out of the room, giving you some time to think things through.

If you’d go under the surgery you would be able to be alive and even get to free yourself from the pain you felt due to the unrequited love. You would forget every single ounce of love you harboured for him. Though the risk would be there for you to forget him as a person as well.

Every memory you had would be erased and he wouldn’t be your friend anymore, only a stranger. Is this what they should’ve been from the beginning? Nothing but perfect strangers? Losing him as your possible partner was hard and painful but losing him completely? That was like losing the only possibility for you to catch a glimpse of sunlight. You didn’t want to be stuck in the dark without him. Sure, there was the possibility that you wouldn’t forget him and even if you did, you wouldn’t remember it and so there would be no feelings of a loss, right?

Things could go so easy and you could just move on from the spot you were currently rooted in and though you might not remember it afterwards, you know it right now. You know what you would leave behind, all the hardships you’ve been through together and all the moments you just felt like forever wasn’t too far away. The others might call you stupid for even considering the other option but for you it was just part of loving him.

When you moved on he’d be with someone else but not completely out of reach. If you forget though, he’d be gone out of your life, at least for good. Still, you were sure that even if he’d know that you forgot him, he’d try everything in his possibilities to make you remember. But what if you don’t? Would it break him, knowing you would never remember all of your little adventures again? Would he lose trying?

It wasn’t clear if you could learn to remember again after the loss but from what the doctor’s told you, there weren’t really big chances. Maybe you two would learn to be friends again? You two became great friends once, so why not a second time? Though, it would be even more hurtful if you two wouldn’t become friends again. Could he let you go like that? Could he accept the fact that you two wouldn’t be the same as before? You knew that if he’d be the one to forget, you probably wouldn’t. Even if you’d two be friends again, who would assure you that you wouldn’t fall for this idiot again? Falling too far again and landing right back to the position you were currently in.

There was a knock on the door and as you turned your head towards it, you could see Terushima leaning against the doorframe, his body radiated exhaustion but concern was clear in his eyes. “Hey there, the nurse said I could come and visit you, as long as you would allow it.”, his voice was unusually wavering and all you wanted to do was hug him and assure him that you were okay.

He walked next to the bed and once again took one of your hands into his. “What did the doctor say? Is everything okay now?”, he asked you and the worry in his voice resulted in tears welling up in your eyes, you just couldn’t help it. Here he was, the person you loved with everything you had and also the reason behind your suffering.

How could life be so unfair? Who did you murder or hurt in your past life? How deep did you fall that it had to come this far.

The moment he saw the tears threatening to fall down your cheeks, he fell into panic. “Wh-What’s going on y/n? What did they say? I mean if you don’t want to tell me it’s fine, I can call your parents and when they arrive I can leave. Y/n I-”, you efficiently shut him up with your hand covering his mouth. It was already enough that he was so panicked, even though he didn’t know what would happen to you, you didn’t want him to leave now too.

“Don’t leave I-”, you stopped mid sentence but not because you had to cough again, but it was just too hard to tell him. You knew it would devastate him, knowing his best friend could die soon, who wouldn’t be?

“I… they told me that I was sick.”, your voice trailed off and you could see how his eyes were fixed on every word you said and so you lowered your hand back into your lap. “It’s called Hanahaki and is actually quite rare.”, your hands were balled into fists as your eyes wandered down, trying to avoid his blazing gaze. “And how sick?”, you could make out the light tremble in his voice, you knew that he was trying to control himself to not just bombard you with all of his questions. “Well, it’s called the Hanahaki disease and apparently that attacks my respiratory system, my lungs to be more exact.”, you confessed and when you didn’t hear an immediate reaction, your eyes moved up to catch his stunned expression. His eyes were wide open, mouth agape from the shock and his whole body tensed up. His face looked nearly funny to you but you knew there was nothing funny about this situation. He made a move to stand up but he instantly fell back on the bed, hands balled up into fists. He stared on the floor and you could see how he clenched his teeth, jaw locked into place.

“And how did this happen? Can it be cured?”, he asked the question you didn’t have an answer on, well technically you had but it wasn’t that easy. You wanted to tell him that it was something that is the result of normal natural occurrences and not because you loved him. You wanted to tell him that you can be cured but not with the cost of losing him. How can you look at him and tell him that you’ve made the decision to just… let it go.

You didn’t want to cut off your feelings for him, your love rooted so deep inside of your soul. Taking the flower out of your body meant taking a part of you away and denying your love. You might be free from it afterwards and wouldn’t remember what you’d lost but right now you know. You knew what you’d give up on and sure giving up on life might sound totally irresponsible and stupid as the other option but you wanted to live life without regrets.

And you didn’t regret your feelings, no, you never once did. You loved but you loved with everything you had and that was enough for you. Regretting your emotions would mean regretting all of the happy moments he gifted to you.

No, you didn’t regret, you just kept on loving.

You leaned forward until your right hand could get a hold of his chin, turning his face towards yours, so he was looking at you. When your gazes met, you swore a shard of your heart bored into your flesh. He looked so sad, so hopeless, it was hurting you. You wanted to wipe that expression off of his face and turn his lips into a grin, but you knew that whatever truth you were gonna say, it wouldn’t make him smile like he normally would.

“Yuuji, the only way would be surgery, but that might come with some complications and could result in memory loss and that’s not what I want.”, you told him in a hushed voice, trying to keep him calm, even though you knew that the words you just ushered would have the complete opposite effect. He tried to move back but you just grabbed his face with both of your hands, forcing him to look at you. “You don’t want the surgery? Y/n are you crazy?! If it’s attacking your lungs it might lead to your… to your d-”, his voice broke and not only that but you knew that you broke that boy in front of you with your words. He wasn’t even trying to hide the tears that were welling up behind his eyes but you won’t take your words back. You will stand your ground.

“I know, Yuuji. Don’t you think that I know? But I don’t want to go on if I forget you.”, his lips were pressed on each other and tears were now running down his cheeks. Your fingers wanted to wipe them away but you knew you couldn’t do it. You knew you caused it.

“Y/n I thought you were the smart one of us, why would you make such a ridiculous decision. You think that you could throw life away that easily?!”, he was mad and how mad he was but so were you. How could he say that you're doing this so easily? He talked like it didn’t break your heart to make that decision.

“Do you really think that it’s easy for me? You think that it’s fine with me to just pass away and leave all of you behind like that? Well, then you’re really the dumb one!”, you nearly screamed at him. He just stared at you, eyes wide and you could see that he was trying to understand you, he really did.

“Yuuji, it’s nothing but hurting me to make that decision but do you want to move on, knowing you’d forget everyone? I don’t want that okay? I don’t want to live a life that isn’t fully me and start to regret things. Because without you I’m not completely me, do you understand? Actually I don’t expect you to understand and I don’t expect you to accept it ‘cause I know you’re hurting too.”, your voice was wavering, pumped full with all of your raw emotions.

All of this was too much for you and a part of you wished that you could cut off your emotions but that was exactly what you didn’t want to do. You didn’t want to suppress your feelings because every single emotion was meant to be felt. There was shortcut not other way around, no, you just have to own up to them and feel them with everything you have, even if it hurts you. Denying them would be fruitless and end in more misery than happiness, you knew from experience.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to upset you and I really don’t think that you’re making your decisions carelessly. It’s just… I’m afraid you know? But I mean, you must be even more afraid than me so I have no right to judge.”, he lifted his hands so they would clasp around yours, the warmth of his hands seeping into your skin.

“No, you have all the right to. It’s not easy for the both of us, it wouldn’t be easy for anyone. I don’t want you to hold back your feelings just because you don’t want to offend me, that would be selfish.”, you shot him a slight smile, everything you could muster right now.

Right then, you two were in your own world again, when day and night collided. This time though, it wasn’t like the gentle paradise where the sun would kiss the moon goodbye. Instead the cloudless morning sky was teared down like wallpaper, the starless midnight blue shining through the holes in the light.

≿━━━━༺❀༻━━━━≾

Sitting here in the field of freesias you recalled his desperate voice in your mind.

“Wait, there has to be something that we can do right? Please y/n, I don’t want to lose you.”

“But you don’t love me.”

#terushima x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu #terushima angst #terushima oneshot #haikyuu x reader angst

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lilbabychilton · 4 years ago

Text

Two Weeks- Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid x Reader

Tags: Angst

Notes: The Reader, who lost her husband previously, comforts Spencer after he loses Maeve. (This’ll probably be part of a nearly canon universe, sooo we’ll see.)

Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since you watched helplessly as Spencer Reid got his heart broken and his entire life shattered.

You’d been at the BAU for a little over a year now, keeping your distance and never really allowing anyone to get close. You transferred there from Brooklyn SVU after your husband died. The gaping hole in your heart had never really mended instead of healing, you built walls.

Watching Spencer lose the one he loved most brought up all of your unresolved trauma. Despite your best efforts to stay away from others, you’d grown a soft spot for Spence. He never asked questions, never pushed; but whenever he could tell something was wrong, he’d show up at your desk with a coffee.

One night, after a particularly triggering case, everyone had gone home; but you remained. Staring absently at the wedding picture on your desk, ghosting your fingers over the metal frame, you began feeling the all too familiar pangs of grief tugging at your heart strings. It was as if wind was howling through the emptiness of your heart.

“Still here?” Spencer asked, leaning against your desk, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Still here.” You replied solemnly, letting out a deep sigh and prying your eyes away from the frame.

“You okay?” He asked timidly, always careful never to cross your clear boundaries.

“No.” You replied bluntly, shoving down the need to cry so far down into your gut you could feel it. The heaviness settling there like a block of concrete in the ocean.

“You want to go get pizza?” A small, sympathetic smile crept onto Spencers face. Trying to cheer you up while effectively knowing nothing about you was no easy feat. “I know a place that’s open, it’s pretty good.”

You graciously accepted, and found yourself sitting across from each other in the nearly empty restaurant. Spencer rambled on and on for hours about anything under the sun, and you didn’t stop him. His voice helped fill the emptiness, and to tell you the truth, it brought you joy. Watching him wax poetic about his interests was like watching a little ray of sunshine dance in front of you and warm the cockles of your soul.

But now that ray of light was gone; and your heart ached all the more, wondering when it would come back.

You made your way up the stairs to Spencer’s, apartment bag in hand. The hall was dimly lit and looked like it hadn’t been updated since the 70’s. Somehow it wasn’t where you pictured him living, but you pressed on.

“Hey Spence, it’s me” you called gently, knocking on the door and waiting for a response. There was no answer.

“Can you just let me know you’re alive in there?” you asked, with a sigh not at all expecting an answer. But a minute later there was a hard slap against the door and you felt your heart sink.

He clearly wasn’t going to let you in, probably in no mood for company. But you couldn’t in good conscience leave him there to be alone another day. You’d been there, you did exactly this when your husband died, and to be honest isolating just made you feel worse, numb almost.

So instead of leaving you did something you hadn’t done since you were a teenager; you picked the lock. Laughing to yourself as you pulled out the lock picking kit you bought on amazon a month ago in a wine drunk haze.

“Who knew it’d come in handy.” You thought darkly as you heard the lock click open.

You opened the door and were hit with a wave of humidity. The air was thick, the curtains were drawn, and there were books thrown all over the floor. Your mind flashed back to your house, a year ago, it looked exactly like this. And you looked exactly like Spencer, laying on the floor, greasy unkempt hair, and pajamas that probably hadn’t been changed since he ambled home that night.

“Hey Spence” you greeted gently, sitting on the floor near his head.

“How did you get in?” He asked, completely unfazed, eyes fixed on the ceiling above him.

You held the lock picking kit over his eyes and shook it a little. Spencer exhaled harshly, might have been a laugh, might have been frustration.

“I’ve never told you about my husband.” You said, playing with the shoelaces on your beat up tennis shoes. Spencer turned his head, not willing to speak but interested in what you had to say.

You never talked about your personal life. The only one that had known was Rossi, and you assumed he told the others not to ask, and you were grateful.

“He died in a fire almost two years ago,” you started, “arson to be specific.”

“I’m sorry” Spencer breathed, tears rimming his hazel eyes.

“I know,” you replied, “me too.”

“I was a Brooklyn SVU Detective and he was a firefighter. I was working a child trafficking case and I hadn’t slept in three days.” You anxiously picked at your nail, you’d never told this story to anyone but your therapist and even then it’d been a struggle. But you swallowed the lump in your throat and continued on.

“The unsub was burning location’s to cover his tracks. The last location still had kids in it. Both my husband and I were called to respond. I couldn’t do anything with a burning building, so I waited outside, watching the crowd.”

“Fuck” you muttered taking a breather and putting your head in your hands, by now Spencer had sat up and was listening to you intently with his legs crossed and his chin in his hands.

“All the kids were out, they were doing a final sweep. I watched three firefighters go in,” you took a deep breath and felt the tears welling in your eyes threatening to fall and your voice shook.

“And I watched two come out. I don’t think I’ve ever run harder in my life. By the time I got there two men were dragging my husband out of the building. He died holding my hand in the ambulance.”

Tears were streaming down your cheeks when you finished your tragic tale.

“Was that supposed to make me feel better?” Spencer asked getting up off the floor and moving to the couch, he was crying too.

“No,” you scoffed, wiping the tears off your face and following him. “What I’m saying is, I get it. And it fucking sucks.”

Spence paused for a long moment then looked at you, “it does fucking suck.”

That was probably the most inarticulate thing you’d ever heard him say, and you grabbed his hand to comfort him, “but it sucks more to do it alone, trust me.”

“When’s the last time you ate?” you asked and Spencer just shrugged.

“You have to eat.” You said catching his sad gaze.

“Not hungry.” He mumbled and you shrugged.

You stood up and walked over to your bag, pulling out a carton of lactose free ice cream and some plastic spoons.

“I survived on this after John died.” You said, walking over to Spencer and handing him the container.

“How do you know I’m lactose intolerant?” he asked with a near microscopic smirk threatening his lips.

“I mean, other than the fact that statistically it’s super likely,” you began, “I pay attention, I’m distant not dumb.”

Then you pulled out your laptop, and a set of dvd’s and set them on the coffee table. Spencer leaned forward to inspect them.

“The first season of the Doctor Who reboot?” He asked, turning the case over in his hands and scanning the images.

“I’ve got all the other seasons in this bag. Sometimes you’ve got to distract yourself.” You said, laughing inwardly at your next thought.

“When John died I binged all of the show Dexter, it was awful.” you paused, taking in your surroundings “but it was better than sitting in the dark and crying til I made myself sick.”

“How?” Spencer asked, his face scrunching up in thought, like for the first time in his life he was at a loss for words. “How do I stop myself from doing that.”

You sighed and he began to cry, you pulled him into you and stroked his hair as the sobs wracked his tiny frame.

“Force” you said simply, “you force yourself to do it. The person you love wouldn’t want you to wither away in the dark.”

“It’s so hard” he cried and you cried too, no one knew better than you did exactly how hard it was. That’s why you were here.

“Do you blame yourself?” You asked. Spencer said nothing, he only sobbed harder, clinging onto you so hard you were sure he’d leave marks.

“I did too” you said, easing yourself back and taking Spencer with you. “Rossi consulted on a case for us before my husband died. Said I had talent and should come help out at the BAU.”

You paused and thought about that moment bitterly, as you were sure you always would. It was one stupid, simple decision what would have changed your entire life for the better.

“I said no” you continued, absently playing with Spencer's hair in an attempt to sooth him. Your partner used to do that for you after John died, she’d come over every day and just play with your hair until you fell asleep.

“I liked my life in New York. John was willing to go but I was scared.” You scoffed, and Spencer turned to you.

“Do you still blame yourself?” he asked his eyes swollen from crying and sunken from lack of sleep.

“Sometimes.” You replied simply, “less often now.”

“Listen Spence, this is going to suck, and it’s going to suck for a long time. But I promise that eventually it’s bearable.”

“That’s hard to believe” he said, no tone, no emotion. You knew exactly what was happening. Sometimes in grief your body gets so tired of feeling you just stop. That’s almost worse than the sadness.

“Oh I know.” you said, “But you find people who make it easier. I’ve got my old partner in New York, she checks in on me all the time, we spend a weekend together every month. And there’s you too.”

“Me?” Reid questioned, his brows furrowed.

“Remember that night we got pizza?” you asked, and he nodded. “That was John’s birthday, we got back from a case where a woman lost her husband and fuck, Spence, I was in a rough spot.”

“I assumed as much.” Spencer said, his memory rolling back to the deeply pained look he saw on your face as he packed up his things.

“You were there, you didn’t ask any questions, didn’t try to comfort me, you were just there. And that meant a lot.” You said cracking a half smile.

“I’m sorry I broke in,” you said moving some stray strands of hair out of his eyes. “But I couldn’t stand knowing you were going through this alone. Especially not after you helped me through one of my toughest days since I started here.”

“I appreciate it,” Spencer said, sitting up.

“The ice cream is going to melt.” You said, your eyes flicking over to the poor container sweating in the heat of the apartment.

“You should probably eat it.” You said picking it up and putting it into his hands.

“Only if you eat it with me.” He replied grabbing a second plastic spoon out of the box. You smiled and accepted it.

“Only if we can watch Doctor Who, and only if you point out everything that isn’t scientifically sound.” You said and you watched a smile grow on Spencer’s face.

“Okay.” He replied and you got everything set up.

Wading through grief is heavy, it falls over you all at once and it’ll suffocate you if you let it. Sometimes you need a reprieve from it all. Something to help you feel joy again, remind you that the world is still turning. A ray of sunshine in the oppressive darkness. Spencer was one that for you, and now it was your turn to be that for him.

#Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid x Reader #criminal minds #Crimincal Minds Fan Fiction #Reid x Reader #Spencer Reid Fan Fiction

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heejinnien · 4 years ago

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k.yeosang | tomorrow

word count: 2.6k

synopsis: someone who always promises tomorrow, until there is no tomorrow anymore

genre: apocalypse au, angst

warnings: brief mention of alcohol, mild panic attack, implied major character deaths

author’s note: this fic was such a rollercoaster to write. my goal was to capture the frailty of mortality, as well as emphasize the question of what happens when we die. please keep these two things in mind as you read, and do not read if you are not ready to face them.

cross posted to ao3 here

It is a bright, sunny Tuesday afternoon, the skies' cheerful mood creating a stark contrast against the grim news being delivered to citizens across the planet.

An asteroid is heading towards the earth. Scientists have projected that it will arrive in less than twenty-four hours, and the impact it will have will be so damaging it will wipe out life as you know it.

They reassure you that it will be quick, painless even, as you and everything that you know are incinerated in the collision. In one moment you will be there, and in the next you will cease to exist.

You are curled up at home on the couch with a glass of wine, watching the announcement on television. Oddly enough, you feel a sense of peace. Your life hadn't been an easy one, to say the least, and you often felt adrift with no sense of purpose. You work a basic office job, one that is enough to pay the bills and allow you to live comfortably, but you never felt a particular sense or purpose, never had an answer for the existential question of your existence.

Unsurprisingly, you receive a phone call from your boss, informing you that you will not be needed today at work. The words ever again hang unspoken in the air, and as you bid your boss goodbye you wonder how many phone calls like that you will go through today, how many times you will say the word goodbye. Right before he hangs up, your boss pauses before wishing you a quick, painless death. You want to laugh at the morbidity of the statement, something you are sure you will be hearing over and over again.

As your screen darkens, you hesitate before quickly dialing your husband. He had left early this morning for work, and you wonder if he's heard the news. You are sure it would have been impossible for him not to, and you wonder if he will be home soon.

Your call is sent to voicemail, and you quickly redial to no avail. You set your wine glass down, standing up and moving to the window opposite you. You live in an apartment in the city so that you can be closer to your husband's work. You have always loved the city, so it was not difficult for you to agree to the move. It is times like these you are particularly grateful for the wall of glass that is one of your living room walls, providing you with a view of the city below.

You are not sure what you expect to see. Like always, the streets are packed with cars and people, and the normality of it all makes you want to laugh.

Your phone buzzes, and you quickly swipe across the device's screen.

"Yeosang?"

"Y/N," your husband's voice spills out of your phone's speakers, breathless. "I'm on my way home, are you there?"

"Yes," you affirm. "Yeosang, the asteroid — "

"I know," he interrupts. "I'll be home soon, don't do anything."

Before you can protest, he hangs up. You stare dumbly at your phone's blinking screen, signalling the end of the call. The news that Yeosang is coming home forces you into action, and you quickly rush to your room to change. You are still in your pajamas, the announcement having been broadcasted early enough in the morning that it is before you usually begin to get ready for work, so you quickly shower before throwing on your favorite shirt and jeans. You have just finished brushing your teeth when the sound of the front door opening echoes through the apartment, leading to you hurrying into the living room.

"Yeosang," you lunge towards your husband, the force of your hug causing him to stumble backwards. He returns your gesture with equal vigor, wrapping his arms around you and holding you two together for a few moments.

When you finally break apart, it is done a bit reluctantly on your part. You devour every detail of your husband's face, noticing the way his brow is slightly furrowed and the serious set of his jaw.

For a moment, you say nothing, instead simply opting to savor your husband's company. The fragile silence is broken by him, a groan breaking through the complete lack of sound. Yeosang sighs, running a hand through his hair before fixing you with a gaze so intense you nearly wither beneath it.

"Y/N, I wanted to talk to you."

You swallow nervously. "Of course, would you like something to drink first? You must be thirsty from work, and — "

As you talk, your hands flutter nervously, a motion Yeosang observes with amusement. He cuts you off with the raise of his hand, instead opting to tilt his chin in the direction of the couch. You wordlessly settle on the plush leather, drumming your fingers anxiously on your leg and watching Yeosang settle beside you with bated breath.

When he finally does speak, what he says is so unexpected you nearly fall off the couch.

"I'm sorry I haven't been there for you." Yeosang apologizes, looking everywhere but towards you. "When I heard what the scientists said, I thought about how we haven't been able to spend time lately, and I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry for that."

"It's okay, I understand," you reply quickly. "You've been busy with work."

"It's not okay," Yeosang groans. "I keep promising you that we'll do things together, and now that it's our last day — "

Yeosang cuts himself off abruptly, jaw tightening once again. You take his hand in yours, gripping it tightly. For a moment, you two sit in silence, both of you unsure what to say next. You are reminded of the fragility of your morality, the fragility of the time you have left. Your heart wavers, torn between a mixture of anger and yearning.

"I would like to make it up to you." Yeosang says, this time locking eyes with you. "I know not a lot of things are open, but I was thinking we could at least go on a date like… like we used to."

You swallow dryly, a confusing cocktail of emotions swirling inside you. For the past few months, you had seen little of your husband. He often worked late into the night and left early in the morning, and what little he was home he was usually holed away in his study. Tomorrow, was his promise. Tomorrow, we can hang out, tomorrow, I’ll be less busy.

Ultimately, you decide what your husband did or did not do in the past doesn't matter. All you have left is now, and you are determined not to spend your last few hours feeling angry or sorry for yourself.

"I would love that," you say sincerely, the earnestness in your voice causing Yeosang to smile, the emotion lighting up his entire face.

"Great."

Your afternoon is spent entirely with Yeosang, the two of you exploring the city and enjoying each other's company. Unsurprisingly, the city is deserted, and you imagine that most people are spending their last few hours at home with their loved ones. Your parents passed away a few years ago and you were never particularly outgoing, meaning that Yeosang is the only person you have. Even though you have lived here for a year, you haven't had the opportunity to visit many places, not wanting to go alone. Yeosang knows this, and you try to visit as many different places as possible. You know that Yeosang has thought of this too when you catch him staring at you throughout the day, a mixture of remorse and longing reflected in his eyes.

In the evening, you return to your apartment, heart filled with a lightness it hasn't experienced in a while. While Yeosang cooks dinner, something he insists on doing, you wander around your apartment, taking everything in one last time.

“Hey, what are you up to?”

You jump as Yeosang appears behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. He glances at the pictures on the wall in front of you before turning his head sideways so he can look at you.

“I was just taking everything in one last time,” you smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes and you hope Yeosang doesn’t notice. While you were never particularly a fan of your life, at least it is more familiar than happens next, a thought that makes you anxious. Instead of sharing this, you force your smile wider and turn, asking, “So what did you make for dinner, chef?”

He tells you about the wonderful pasta dish he’s cooked up as you follow him into the kitchen. You have no doubt that what he says is true from the presentation alone, fettuccine noodles mixed in an orange sauce and topped with shrimp and parsley greeting you.

You two eat in silence, all of your words from earlier now gone. No matter what you think about, in the end your thoughts always drift towards your impending demise.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Yeosang reaches over to your side of the table, taking your hand and squeezing it gently. He looks at you with concern, and the sheer amount of emotion in his eyes finally makes you break down.

You don’t realize that you’ve begun to cry until Yeosang reaches over and wipes a tear off of your cheek. Mortified, you quickly swipe at the remaining tears threatening to fall. You’ve never liked crying, considering it to be a useless action. Crying didn’t bring your parents back, and crying won’t save you from tomorrow.

The thought makes you cry even harder. You duck your head, ashamed. You hear the scraping of a chair, and then Yeosang’s arms are around you. He presses your head against his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt. He doesn’t seem to mind, and if anything a renewed wave of tears leads him to press you against him harder.

He waits until the tears have subsided to pull away, kneeling so that he is level with you. “It’s okay, baby,” he coos, wiping away a stray tear.

“I’m just so scared,” you admit, letting out a shaky breath.

“It’ll be okay,” Yeosang’s gaze doesn’t drift from yours, and his hand rubs against your back soothingly. “It’ll be okay.”

Embarrassed by your breakdown, you break away from Yeosang’s stare, instead choosing to look out of the apartment’s window at the inky night beyond. You aren’t quite sure when it got dark, the night signalling a monumental passage of time. Yeosang follows your look and silently stands, holding his hand out to you.

“Come with me,” he says. You take his hand hesitantly, and follow him as he leads you to the glass door set into the apartment’s back wall. He quickly unlocks the door, sliding it open and revealing your small balcony, and a light breeze blows through the open door, causing you to shiver.

Yeosang removes his jacket, wrapping it around you before you can protest. He shushes you before you can even protest, taking your hand once more and leading you out onto the balcony.

From all your time living in the apartment, you had never thought to decorate the tiny space. It is a simple eight feet by eight feet concrete platform, a wrought iron railing bordering you in the only feature, and you step out onto it, Yeosang sliding the door behind you closed as you gaze up at the inky night sky. Afterwards, Yeosang sits on the middle of the platform, ignoring the cold seeping through his jeans and tugging on your hand for you to follow.

“That’s Orion’s belt, see the three stars over there?” He points towards a cluster of stars located towards your right.

“Wow, I didn’t know that you were such a huge fan of the stars,” you laugh.

“I minored in astronomy in college,” Yeosang shrugs, but you can tell he’s mildly embarrassed by your amazement. He wraps one arm around you, and you lean against him. You aren’t sure how much time passes as you both gaze up at the stars, a comfortable silence stretching between you.

In that moment, staring up at the universe and all the stars, you feel small.

“Where do you think we go when we die?” Your voice is small as you finally give words to the thought plaguing your mind. You pull away, turning so that you can look at Yeosang clearly. He continues staring at the stars, remaining silent for so long that you wonder if you even spoke before he finally looks at you.

“I think that somewhere out there there’s a god that’s watching out for us.” He lets out a dry laugh. “Funny, isn’t it? That the god who’s supposed to be protecting you is the one who’s ending your life?”

There’s a moment of silence before Yeosang reaches out hesitantly, and his hand brushes against your cheek lightly. He scoots closer until your foreheads are pressed against one another, stroking your cheek idly with his thumb.

“Whatever happens, I’ll be there for you,” he vows, and you let out a light laugh.

“How can you promise that when you don’t know for sure what’s out there?”

“I just have this feeling,” he says, voice earnest. You fall back into silence, this time staring at one another. In the faint light provided by the moon and stars, Yeosang looks radiant, almost ethereal in his beauty.

“Tell me a story,” you finally say, pulling away and nestling yourself against his side once more, attempting to shake off the sadness that has permeated the air around you. Yeosang obliges, launching into a hilarious story about one of his coworkers that has you both laughing. You both talk the rest of the night away, exchanging stories and memories. Your heart returns to the lightness it felt from earlier, and at some point you close your eyes, the only sensation you experience the timbre of Yeosang’s voice.

You can’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing you know Yeosang is shaking you awake. You blink, attempting to orient yourself, and Yeosang points towards the eastern horizon, where light has just begun to peek out.

“Look, the sunrise.”

You watch as the sun begins its slow rise for the last time, painting the sky in vibrant shades of pink and orange. Light gleams against steel and glass, and golden rays shine like magnificent auras around each of the city’s buildings.

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper.

Together, you both remain on the balcony well after the sun has finished rising. The streets below are deserted, and the air seems still, as though it's holding its breath and waiting for something to happen. You savor the quiet and Yeosang’s presence, but even then you are aware every breath brings you closer to your last.

The moment that you have been dreading happens too soon.

As you hear the city's sirens that the scientists told you would signal the arrival of the asteroid, sudden panic rises within you. There are so many things you want to say, so many things you wish you had done.

"Hey, it's okay," Yeosang whispers, sensing your rising panic and tightening his arm around you. "Whatever happens next, I'll be there with you every step of the way."

You believe him, his words bringing you a sense of comfort in your last moments. Whatever happens to you now, wherever you go after death, you believe that he will be there with you, guiding you. You are no longer lost, purposelessly drifting through life and scared of what comes next.

"I love you," you whisper.

"I love you, Y/N,” Yeosang responds, and for a moment you think you can see tears glimmering in his eyes. Then he leans in, setting his lips gently against yours and pressing you against him.

The last thing you hear is a loud explosion, and then nothing.

#tomorrow #ateez yeosang #newskynet #destinyverse #yeosang #yeosang x reader #kang yeosang #kang yeosang x reader #fanfiction #kpop #k-pop #angst #ateez angst #apocalypse au #apocalypse #ateez apocalypse

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pyrrhesia · 3 years ago

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FF14 Write - ‘Illustrious’ (D26)

In which Ysabet Sable watches the sun set.

Severine de Belgrave rested her old bones by the fire, sinking into an armchair with a long, satisfied sigh. Not for the first time, she thanked Halone for her good health. Though perhaps she ought to thank good living. She'd seen other knights go quickly to seed, and now could hear their backs crack and knees explode from malms off. Severine's fighting days were long past, but she kept as spry as she could. Got mountain air by the lungful, didn't drink as much as she once had. After all, there felt so much to do. One of the most coveted trainers in Ishgard, a proud and feared matriarch of what was now a flourishing House, and through it all she did her best to be a good wife. Yet, here and now, she had her house all to herself. As the rain pattered off the roof overhead, she leaned back in her chair and remembered... Fearful days of fire and suffering, they had been. Yet through it all, a disparate band of misfits and outcasts followed falling stars and risen gods, bound together. Shining steel cut through the encroaching dark. She had been a hero, once.

Severine jolted awake to the sound of a rapping at her door. It was insistent, which given the rain had only intensified was only natural. Severine rose to her feet with a grunt, unbowed by age, her poise the picture of dignity, her hand lingering on the hilt of the dagger at her belt the model of prudence. Yet when she opened the door, she relaxed. Two drenched flaxen ears drooped from holes cut into a hooded cloak sodden with rain. Keen violet eyes peered out from over the top of the high-drawn mantle. "Ser Severine," she said, voice muffled. The elezen gave a smile, scant warning before closing the distance and embracing the viera in a tight hug. "It's been too long, Ysabet." When the viera was done pretending to look affronted, she trudged inside, divesting herself of her cloak. All that had changed in the years was... was... ? No. Nothing. The softly sweeping curves of her face remained unlined, the softly sweeping curves of her figure unchanged. She moved with the same grace and purpose as she always had, and not even her voice felt at all worn by the decades. She even favoured the same cool greens, not quite the shades of a forest. Ysabet had been doing well for herself, but in the distance. Her shadow had been felt, mostly because she had taken it upon herself to write and publish the exhaustive Annals of the Scions' deeds. While Ysabet used words like a Garlean general used auxiliary infantry, her concussive prose had a strangely melodic quality to it, and certainly none could doubt her authenticity or her scrupulous adherence to the truth. The last man who had tried had been confronted mid-lecture at swordpoint. Besides that, she'd just sort of... well, Severine had trusted that she'd been doing something. She wasn't the sort to sit idle. They'd never spoken especially much, back then. It was only when swords were sheathed and their task concluded that they truly began to realise, all of them, that they had achieved something truly monumental between them. That there was a shared experience nothing else in their lives could possibly match. A feeling Severine couldn't even share with her wife... "You look well," she said, diplomatically. "I always do. The alternative doesn't bear thinking about." Ysabet dug around in a satchel that clinked with promise. "You, also. Sincerely. Some of the others, I barely recognise, but you are still the spitting image of... yourself. Ah!" She pulled out a fine crystal bottle of breathtakingly expensive wine, and proffered it bottom-first in the time-honoured fashion of the amateur sommelier. "I thought we'd talk. Perhaps of old times. Perhaps of new." Severine took up the bottle, having to squint rather more than she'd like at the label. "Ah, all the way from La Noscea. It's a beautiful vintage. You did not need to bribe me to have a place by my fire, you know. But I appreciate it all the same." "I was in the area. I often am. The place still has its hooks in me, I think." She pulled something else out of the satchel, too. A notebook, slim by her standards, and a fine feather quill ensorcelled to ever be wet with ink. Some twenty years ago, Ysabet had decided she'd spilled her final inkwell on her priceless primary records. "Ishgard, not so much." "Take a seat by the fireplace." Severine gestured the way, waiting magnanimously for her guest to take the first seat as she weaved past and took a couple of wine-glasses before letting herself fall into place opposite. "Truth be told, I'd... well, I had expected you to come, sooner or later." "Ah?" Severine cracked her knuckles against her jaw, resting her head and regarding Ysabet with a knowing little smile. "Some of us do still correspond, you know. It's not been a secret you've been dropping in unannounced, of late. Asking after us, after our lives. Like you're eager to underline our entries in your little books, no?" To Severine's surprise, Ysabet looked genuinely hurt. She could be - she had been - so cold, so detached, and yet... "You make it sound so... clerkly." "I know," on some level, Severine didn't add, "it reflects you care deeply. That is what it's about, isn't it? Making certain all is accounted for, before we're... no longer able to contribute." "Am I so transparent?" Ysabet looked aside to the fire, lip curling in something like disgust. "I suppose I am something akin to a vulture, these days. You cannot be glad to see my circling." "No, I am." "You have only my word I care for you, that this is the ultimate symbol of that care. My records will outlive us both, Severine. The entire point of my writing them was to ensure the truth about us all stood, unopposed, through the centuries." Severine poured out the wine, reaching over to hand Ysabet's to her. "Rest assured, I have no intention of dying anyday soon. I'd have you stay, and we can talk without such pressures overhead." "We'll have as much time as we need, eh? Well... perhaps. Yet we are here now." Ysabet sipped her wine, but seemed far away in thought. "The last was Cwenthryth Sadler. I had been... occupied, elsewhere. By the time I arrived, I found her bound to her deathbed." Severine... vaguely remembered her. The muscular Ul'dahn who had returned to her Ala Mhigan roots in arms, but stayed true to the cause, to the end. "I knew little of her. She spoke little." Ysabet snorted. "And I once thought there was little to know. Perhaps, in a sense, there was. Certainly no shortage of women like her. Yet how many went on to slay Gods?" She sighed, considering her words carefully. "Yet, her strength - nor the strength of any of us - was not the most remarkable thing, I think." "... So you'll tell me what was?" "When it was all over, she simply set down her bow and lived peacefully." Ysabet looked back up at Severine. "The rest of her days. The finest archer I'd seen! With a voice as clear as spring-water. People would have flocked to hear her sing, but nobody could ever make her. And now, nobody ever..." Ysabet bit her lip, hard, and looked away at the fire. Something dripped onto the cover of her journal. "But she was happy?" Severine prompted. "I think so." Ysabet's voice was small. "She loved Aislona, I know. Nobody wanted anything more from her, and I am not sure she wanted anything more from the world. But... I should have liked to have seen it myself, I think. It always felt like the time would be right. And yet, it never truly came. I have to force myself to remember any urgency. The years drift by. And at first, ten, twenty years... it seemed as though I would have forever." "You will." Severine tried not to sound bitter. "Or may as well." "Hmph." Ysabet forced a brave little smile. "Not with you. It... took too long to realise, it was the world that could wait. And... I know, I know it is the most selfish of complaints. That I remain young while my companions wither and die! O, poor me! Yet it has been so hard, watching, helpless, holding a love that only grows stronger, as..." After a time, Severine hauled herself up from her seat and offered her arms around Ysabet's silently tremoring shoulders. They remained there in silence for a while, as the rain came down. Finally, Ysabet pulled herself free, swallowed hard, and leafed to a new, dry page of her journal. "Tell me, Severine. Tell me of your life."

And someday, when all lay to rest, a student would pick up a dense book - a copy set in type, passing through a dozen hands - and leaf through the pages of near-forgotten heroes until landing on one at random. Ever faithful to the true ideals of knighthood, if not the trappings of noble conduct, Ser Severine de Belgrave proved to all she was no disgrace to her family's crest...

#FFxivWrite2021 #OC: cwenthryth sadler #OC: ysabet sable #OC: severine belgrave #been melancholy lately #been consuming media lately #it all contributes #illustrious

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lillaxtrigger · 4 years ago

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Young Hope: Chapter 38

The open cloudless sky above begins to lose its orange shade as the twilight sun starts to sink down past the horizon and welcomes the stars and lunar glow of the full moon; their heavenly light gleaming upon the golden spire that towers past the sea of clouds. Along the edges of the golden warp gate are the three search nods that the angels had faced trail after trail to retrieve were tucked firmly within all three of their proper holes; the eyes and wings that make up their outer rims glancing around and flapping as they twirl in place. In the middle of the rings was a platform of glass sat in the middle of the golden top floor; Tore wondrously gazing to the rings as his cosmic mentor works on a holographic interface that protrudes out from the glass beneath their feet. When a distinct light shines down above them, the indigo angel aim’s his gaze skyward to behold the massive halo that hovers above the tower; the ring that hangs over them beginning to spin with a growing heavenly glow. The rings angelic glow slowly, but surely growing, Mall put away the holographic panel had been tinkering with and peers up to the halo above to state: “Good, the coordinates are finally set and the warp gate is pinpointing to my kind’s dimensional prison. It only be a matter of time now.” A warm smile permeates along his cheeks as he stares upwards, break his site away from the halo above and down to his blue ward before him; Tore gazing back to his cosmic mentor as Mall commends how: “I don’t think there is any way I can express my gratitude to you for aiding me in this long awaited noble endeavor. At long last, after millions of millennia, the Kybr shall return home. At long last, they shall be reunited with their own kin; and we have you to thank for it all, Tore. ... For the longest time, I only had the stars surrounding to call upon for comfort in my times of depression and isolation; to mend my sorrows with their gaseous light. Not once did I think that I would soon feel the warming welcome of another Kybr, another he could call his own kin to glide through the universe with. For that alone, I’m more than happy to have taken this journey with you.” “No prob, Mall. Bein on this whole adventure with ya made me realize what I’d been missing from my life; somebody I could really look up to help just guide me through all the stuff about life. Like a….you get what I’m saying?” “Hmm mm mm. Tore, I simply cannot wait to introduce you to the very people that you have stemmed from and behold in their majesty; to glide throughout the universe alongside our fellow kin. There’s just so much more of this reality I wish for you to view.” the cosmic angel describes, kneeling down to the blue boy’s level. “Honestly, it don’t matter to me a bit where ya wanna go; I just still wanna have ya around. There was seriously so much you taught me about myself that I didn’t even know I could do; stuff that I probably never would’ve realized my self if I didn’t go with ya. Really, if anyone’s to thank here, it’s you.” “Oh believe me, youngling; there’s still so much of yourself I can show you, so much of yourself that will surpass your human expectations. It’s my hope to one day cultivate you into a Kybr just as powerful as those in the days of yore; perhaps to even pass them. Before the cosmic Kybr could speak another word to his blue ward, the indigo angel reaches out for a warming embrace; Mall hugging the boy back in kind as Tore’s tear drip down from his face and stain his sparkling toga. “I can’t to show you all my friends and family. You’re gonna love em.”

Upon declaring this to his spacial teacher does a related thought pop into the blue boy’s mind, one that causes him to pull away from Mall’s grasp and stress how: “My fam! Oh god, its been around two weeks since I last talked to them! They must be worried outta their minds wondering where I’ve been this whole time. I know you said that using my phone might attract attention, but is it alright if I phone them up real quick and tell em I’m alright?” “Go ahead, Tore. Tell them...tell them of the wonderful news.” “Thanks Mall.” the indigo angel yips to his cosmic mentor as he strolls over towards the wayside and pulls his phone out from the depths of his pants pocket. After powering on his device, a wave of astonishment crashes upon him when first finding over dozens of notifications concerning calls that he had missed. Whoa! Holy crap! There’s seriously like 54 missed calls on here. Most of them from Mally too. Guess outta everyone, she’d be nearly on the cusp of exploding with worry. Better not keep her waiting any longer.

Without hesitation, the blue boy taps the last phone call his sister had attempted to reach through to him with; Tore putting his phone up to his ear as it starts to dial and waits as he hears the tone ring. Shortly after does he then hear the orange skater on the other end, yelping out to him: “Tore!?” “Hey, Mal. Sorry I didn’t really phone in for a while, had to turn my phone off cause I was helping-” “Oh my god, where are you!? What’s that guy you’re with doing!? Do you know what he’s about to do!?” “Whoa, easy there, Mal. Slow down a minute, w-what’s up with you?” the blue boy questions. “Tore, I need you to listen to me and answer; do you know what the Kybr were?” “Uh, Mall said they were powerful beings that could manipulate elements of the universe who shared their powers with humans and built cities to help teach em how to use em.” “Is that all he told you?” “Kind of, why? You figure out something?”

Above the very spire both the angels stand within, the tangible picture begins to come into focus within the golden halo; the outer rim of the ring surging with an otherworldly power as it starts to further twirl more rapidly. Tears begin to well underneath Mall’s very eyes as he peers deep within the transparent picture held inside the halo. Soon. Soon we shall be reunited. No more will this soul have to wander this lonely cosmo’s for eternity. We’ll be together. We’ll be home.

Among his mentor gazing up to the portal above them both, the indigo angel ventures back towards stargazing Kybr; a deep somber frown painted along his face as the light from the halo overheads casts their shadow over the blue boy’s eyes. “Mall…” Upon hearing his wards slightly meek call, Mall breaks his teary eyes away from the forming portal above and hears the boy before him request that: “Can I ask you some stuff...before Kybr come?” “Of course, Tore What do wish to know?” “Were there really no limits to what the Kybr could control in this universe?” “Indeed, there were none. The very forces of this universe were at our beck and call.” “Is that why the gods banished all of you?” “Sadly so. They couldn’t accept the control we had on what they claimed to be their dominion. But why ask of this?” The blue boy standing before the cosmic angel takes a moment to calm his shaking breath before he questions further on the matter with: “Was that the only reason?” “Pardon?” “What did Kybr do to warrant getting imprisoned?” “Tore. Let us not worry about such mysteries, not with our reunion so close.” the spacial angel attempts to thwart with.

“Mall...were the Kybr bad?” Such a question piercing the air causes every single hair along the cosmic angel to stand on end, Mall attempting to veer away from answer by uttering: “Tore, lets just drop the-” “Did they hurt people?” The blue boy’s burning hunger for these answers drive the cosmic angel to a dreading silence; one that only fuels his ward to push further. “Mall...Mall, what did they do? How many others wanted them gone? Why were they so hated?” Despite Tore’s constant push for tangible answers, this only drives further silence from the starry angel standing before him; his mentor’s refusal to answer drawing out only frustration and tears as he continues to shout: “Mall...Please just answer me already! Why won’t you say anything!? Have you just been lying to me!?”

At last can the cosmic Kybr not keep himself silent another moment longer, Mall finally responding to his angered ward outcries with: “We chose humanity to carry on the legacy, to mold this very universe accordance to their whims and to plot its very future alongside us. Tore...All that Kybr had done was to shape reality for the better and share in what we’ve created with all; even if it meant steering those who lived in this universe in a different direction. I myself couldn’t care less for what they plot to form this reality into...I simply couldn’t bare it anymore. The countless millennia of isolation and utter hopelessness I had toiled hiding from those who wanted us gone. I felt my very consciousness dull from the ever going loneliness. The life that I had felt when gliding alongside my kin, the joy I had partaken upon seeing a child of my own flourish had been left dimmed and withered to the merciless flow of time. I had resigned to such a fate. But a single spark was what had illuminated the hopeless void that had clouded my mind. Word of humanity, sparse human’s, growing to possess power those were bestowed by us once more. And lo and behold, the life within me that had hollowed had been restored upon seeing with my own vision those claims ring true; the future of the kin we had left behind. And during my journey alongside you, my boy, that very same spirit began to grow again. Bringing forth a dream I thought once impossible to achieve now on the cusp of coming true.” Midst declaring all of this, the cosmic Kybr approaches the young angel that stands before him; Mall kneeling down to his level once more to gently grasp his shoulder and begs out of him: “Tore, please, let us share this long awaited dream together. Let us welcome our kin home.” A long pause of quiet passes between the two angel’s as Mall awaits for the boy’s answer; all with nothing but the energy of the warp gate whirling through the air to fill the ambient silence.

But at long last does Tore finally bestow upon the lonesome broken man his answer as his hand balling into a quaking fist; the blue boy driving his knuckles straight into the cosmic angel’s face hard enough to send Mall careening across the top of the spire; the golden wall he slams into fracturing from the incredible blunt force. As the spacial bound Kybr starts to recover from the unexpected blow, a low groan utters out from his maw; the angel directing his site to the very boy who had struck him down. “Agh!...Wh-what the matter with y-” “You lied to me! You knew very well what the Kybr would do if they were freed; you knew they would terrorize the universe again and kept that from me! I trusted you! I fought alongside you! I looked up to you more than just a teacher; I wanted you to be like a dad, one I could actually stand alongside with. I cried when you offered me that. If you really cared that much about me, if you looked up to me like I was one of your own; you wouldn’t have kept me in the dark about something crucial, something that would’ve affected everyone I knew, what could doom everyone in this universe. I could’ve helped you. My family could’ve helped you. I bet even my friends could’ve helped you cope with being so alone and sad in this universe. You didn’t need to unleash an entire army of super beings that would destroy so many others…You didn’t need the Kybr to feel loved. But instead you chose this. Chose to try and release them. And chose to lie to my face!” Witnessing a flow of tears streak down from the boy’s enraged glare, Mall attempts to push through to him by uttering: “Tore, I didn’t-” “Shut up!...If you actually care. If you actually wanna still look at me like someone you care for,, then you’ll shut off the portal and keep the Kybr from breaking into this world.” Let utterly silent by the indigo angel’s ultimatum, the cosmic angel finally stands and hovers off the golden floor; glaring to the boy with determination and firmly declares: “No...I shall not let my kin suffer within their prison another moment longer, not with just a few more steps from opening the gates.” Knowing the Kybr’s ultimate decision left set in unbreakable stone, Tore’s entire body trembles alongside his breath; struggling to stand from the overwhelming heartbreak. But the indigo angel soon regains his composure to wipe away the river of tears from his eyes; staring on to cosmic angel that hovers before with his own branded determination and readies to face his former mentor. “Fine...But I’m not just gonna stand and let you doom the universe...To doom countless others...to doom my friends, my family, everyone I love!”

Its upon proclaiming this that Tore finally lunges forth towards his former mentor, dead set to deliver yet another betrayed fuel strike right to his face; what tears hadn’t dried at this point streaking off his cheeks as he approaches the cosmic angel. Moments as the indigo angel throws his fist straight out to the Kybr’s face, Mall holds his palm before the nearing blue boy and stopping him dead in his tracks; Tore feeling as if he had just hit an invisible solid wall. Its in that very same time that same space thrust him away with what felt like the force of a runaway semi truck, the blue boy sliding across the spires golden floor; Tore clutching the edge of the tower before he could be sent flying straight out into the sea of clouds behind him. Pulling out over the golden edge, the angel throws himself straight into the air above with a pale light gathering in his hand; Tore casts forth a beam of pale power down towards his spacial foe. Just as the ray was about to hit, the very space surrounding Mall redirects the beam to twirl around his very figure and splits apart under his command; the cosmic angel sending back the fracture pieces of pale white back towards their very sender. The blue boy delves right underneath the returning ray cluster as he swoops down towards his former master, Mall erecting a wormhole behind him to retreat from the blue boy’s diving assault.

Once sliding to a stop across the golden floor, Tore frantically peers to his surroundings for any sign of where the space manipulating angel had vanished to; failing to find even a single sign of his starry feathers anywhere in site. Midst wondering where the angel had disappeared to, Tore suddenly feels an invisible force squeeze his entire body from head to toe; almost as if the very space surrounding him was constricting the boy like a snake holding its prey. Slowly forcing his head to turn back, Tore discovers the cosmic angel emerging out from another hole with his clutched palm reaching out to the boy. With nothing but a swift swipe of his very hand, Mall commands the very space holding his pupil to fling him straight into one of the flora decorated golden walls that make up the top of the spire; some of the angel trumpets that hang from the swirls plucking off their stems and fluttering down onto the boy. Peering down does the blue boy see one of these flowers land cleanly onto the palm of his hand, a site which causes the gears in his head to start turning.

As he continues to face the young angel, Mall lets out a collection of stars from his very palm as he waves his hand through the air; every single twinkling star that the cosmic angel had conjured all thrusting themselves out to the blue boy all at once. Upon witnessing the stars incoming does Tore push himself off the wall of withered flowers and out towards the volley of glittering constellations Tore blocking them all with a single arm as he forces himself through shower of stars Powering through the barrage of twinkling bullets does Tore face the spacial Kybr once more; his fist glowing a rainbow of lively colors as he lobs it upwards towards the angel’s chin. Though Mall erects another wall of space between him and his blue ward like before, the solid space breaks apart upon the boy’s rising assault and is harshly struck right in the jaw hard enough send him skywards. Having uppercut his former mentor straight into the air, Tore rockets up after him to follow up with a hammering spike back down towards the spire floor; the glass platform Mall crashes into shattering from the impact.

While the blue angel hover back down onto the golden floor, he watches as his cosmic foe levitates right off the broken glass he bestows an applause; remarking how: “Using the life force of these flowers to power through. Excellent resourcefulness Tore. Seems I’ve trained you to use your abilities quite well. Bravo.” Despite his proud applause upon him, Tore keeps his glare locked upon the spacial angel; Mall himself ceasing his clapping to warm how: “However, if you believe that is enough to stop me. Then you are sorely mistaken.” On this very declaration does Mall then reach out to their surroundings and offers to how his own prowess with: “Allow me to show you what sort of influence the Kybr have upon this universe.” From the palms of his hands does the cosmic angel unleash an incredible bout of spacial power from his very depths; a monumental wave that bends and twists the golden spire they stand upon and until beginning to change into another location entirely.

Before the blue boy’s very eyes does he witness the golden walls of the spire transform, ditching the shimmering sheen of their swirls in place of rows and rows of faintly painted metal lockers. Peering down beneath his feet, Tore sees the glistening floor he stands upon loose its sheen as it’s morphed into slightly dirt ridden marble tile. Drifting his gaze skywards does Tore also watch as the starry night sky above is blanketed by popcorn ceiling donning flickering florescent lights. Between the lockers stood door after polished wood door, some of the cracking open to let some teens within peer out to the scene that plays out. “The Hell?” “What’s happening out there?” “Who the hell are these guys?” “Hang on. Isn’t one of them that strange blue dude with the angel wings?” Upon some of the students recognizing him does Tore himself realize where his former mentor had transported them too; this very hall being the very same hallway he walks through everyday in Townsville’s public school. “So this is my...Why did-” Right when the blue boy was about to question the cosmic angel why he had sent them here, the indigo angel puts his question on hold as he sees his former master continue to wave his hands through the air. All the kids that had peeked out from their classrooms are forced back inside before the hall that both angels stands begins to extend outwards; the end of the hall retreating into the horizon until vanishing into an infinite plane. Once commanding the space of the hall to extend endlessly, the spacial Kybr leaps back to retreat down the depths of the never ending corridor; Tore immediately pursuing after the retreating angel.

Amidst gliding away from the indigo angel, Mall turns back while continuing to retreat to unleash a salvo of stars that erupt out from the depths of his wings; Tore swatting away all the stars that streak out to him in his chase after Witnessing his spread of stars doing little to slow his blue wards feverish pursuit, Mall reaches his arms out towards the never ending rows of lockers that stretching out along the sides of the hall; their very metal stretching past their hinges and clustering together just before the boy. Left caught off guard by the unexpected blockade, the indigo angel slams straight through the barrier of cheap school grade steel and fumbles along the marble tile; but soon enough regaining himself and leaping off the floor in the middle of this blunder to resume the chase. As more and more of the lockers before him stretch out in an effort to block his way, Tore flies right over, under, and side to side every set that burst out from the walls; some dust flying out from the walls as the lockers protrude out. Upon watching the blue ward weave himself through every single set of lockers he stretches out, the cosmic angel clamps his hands together to command the lockers before him to all clamp together to form a wall of steel. A single lunging tackle is all it takes from the blue boy to bust straight through he blockade of cheap school grade steel; a couple of cobwebs flying through the air as Tore charges ahead.

Yet despite having broke straight through his former mentor’s barricade, the distance between the pair of angels continues to grow; Tore pondering of a way he can burst through the numerous lockers and close the gap. Not really any plants here to sap, though. Gotta be something here to take advantage off. Its in think of a way to draw out power that he feels something tickling his arms, the indigo angel glancing along his limbs to discover a couples of spiders and bugs scuttling along the surface of his skin. Bugs? Didn’t someone say that the school needed some sort of fumigation? Wait a sec, that’s it!

With an idea running through his blue noggin, Tore stretches both of his arms out to the endless row of lockers that sit along the side; his mind focused on all the numerous insects and arachnids that dwell within the cracks and crevices of the school walls. Come on… he concentrates on the dozens of vermin and insects that do swaths of color all seep out from their bodies, their very life gathering around the blue boy and surrounding him in coating of lively aura. Got it! “Excellent work Tore.” In hearing this come from his former mentor, Tore stares back to the gradually retreating angel; Mall further praising him on how: “Drawing out your aspect from the creatures hidden around you. But can you use such gathered power effectively?”

Its in that moment that every single locker that stands between them burst out from the wall and cluster together before the young angel in hopes of halting his pursuit; all the colorful life that the blue boy had gathered all coating his fists as he nears all the thicket of metal. With his very fists alone does Tore break through the rows of stretched steel as easily as ripping through paper; shards of the lockers metal scattering through the air as the boy breaks through every single wall that stands in his way. Seeing his pupil punch straight through the numerous barricades, Mall thrusts his palms out to the hall’s very walls and starts to pull them together; the cosmic angel warping the space itself into one blockade of solid stone and metal. With little time to stop himself from smacking straight into the twisted cluster of school brick and locker metal, Tore utilizes what energy he had gathered from his surroundings straight into the palm of his hands into a colorful orb of light; firing it all out in to the blockade in a stream of pure life. Effortlessly does the massive beam pierce straight through the thick rock and steel and striking the cosmic angel harboring behind; Mall letting out a pained grunt as his entire body is engulfed in the colorful glow.

Right then and there does the infinite hallway come to an end as Mall is sent careening straight through a set of door; the polished wood floor breaking underneath as he scrapes across the gym. From this crashing halt does every basketball player and P.E teacher suddenly stop dead in their track and gaze upon the spacial angel as he levitates himself off the middle of them floor. Following this do they then witness the blue boy break down the gym doors and land before the levitating man; a site which proves a good enough queue to go scrambling out for they realize that shit was going down. Once seeing every single coach and student all race right out through the corridor, Tore returns his site back to his former mentor; remain cautious despite Mall displaying a warm smile. “I must say, Tore. You’ve shown truly promising results thus far. But this examination is far from over.”

Upon this statement does Mall thrust his arms upwards towards the gym ceiling, the blue boy peering above and watches the support beams holding the roof up darken and morph from steel to stone. His attention is then drawn out to the walls, bleachers, and equipment that make up the gym all go through a similar transformation; some of the rock bursting into flames in the process. Its in witnessing all of this that he notices a bright orange light shinning out from the floor and peers down to discover the polished wood he stands on melting into hot molten liquid. Tore leaps right off the transforming floor as it fully forms into a lake of boiling lava and comes to find what he saw were airborne demons and drifting spirits sharing the blistering hot air. Soon enough is the site that Tore once saw as his school gym fully converted into the very depth of hell; both angel’s hovering just above a stretching lake of lava with a couple of brimstone islands decorated across the surface, all with little scales hopping out from the fiery molten depths.

Just as the indigo angel was curious why his former mentor had transformed their surroundings into this hellish lake of molten liquid, he returns his gaze to the cosmic Kybr to find Mall slowly bending his arms upwards; the lava lake they hang right over curving inwards alongside his limbs until covering the hellish skies above in a blanket of blistering hot magma. The lake that Mall had summoned forth had now been bent inward in an inverted sphere that now trapped them both in its twisted cage of molten goo and scorched brimstone; the lava within remaining suspended in the air as if the gravity itself had been twisted.

Once finished with their scorching hot cage, the cosmic angel then thrusts his palms down towards the very brimstone upsetting the lava; the piece of burning rock trembling for a moment before being uprooted from the molten goo. Raising the piece of scorching earth out from the depths of the magma lake, Mall clasps his hands together to command the rock to burst into pieces; the numerous remains of this very brimstone scatter through the air and chaotically revolve all around within the angel’s molten cage. One after the other does Tore swerve and evade all the directionless chunks of burning brimstone, navigating through the ongoing chaos as naturally as the winds traveling through a craggy canyon; the blue boy twisting about the storm of rock as he heads straight for his former mentor. Tore readies to deliver a swift spinning punch right to the spacial Kybr’s side as he closes in, the space around his former master twisting his body as he is fluidly veered right out across the angel’s side like a redirected stream of water. His assault having been thwarted, the indigo angel is but seconds away from taking a molten dive right down into the spherical wall of blistering hot goo; the blue boy stopping himself just short of the lake’s surface and makes a complete U-turn back towards the cosmic angel.

Witnessing his blue ward on the return, Mall commands the space around him to halt what burning brimstone happens to pass by and launches them all out towards the approaching indigo angel. With the barrage of fiery rocks raining down upon him, the blue boy thinks little as he simply breaks one of them to bits with just one kick; left caught off guard when bits of molten lava trapped within splatter out. Tore covers his face as the fiery hot goo splatters onto him, the blue angel continuing to swerve through the brimstone storm despite feeling the burns inflicted by the red hot lava across his body. Uncovering his face does the blue boy then see his former mentor simply direct more and more passing stones his way, the indigo angel taking little chances as he simply fires out sphere of his own power out to the approaching pieces of brimstone; with not even a single drop of the magma stowed within splashing into him. But when does his former mentor simply summon more and more burning chunks out after him, the blue boy hatches a little idea on how to use the hellish meteors against their caster and veers off along the lava prisons edges; all the pieces of burning brimstone giving chase after him as Mall himself watches closely. Soon does the cosmic angel witness the blue ward veer away from the lava side and start to near once more, Mall preparing to counter whatever sort of assault his pupil was planning. Yet at the very last moment does Tore suddenly ascend right over, his former mentor keeping his sites locked to him as the swarm of burning brimstone continues to follow. Once right hovering overhead, the blue boy quickly turns back and blasts out his own volley of pale power upon the pursing storm of hellbound rock; the magma that bursts out from within all splattering down toward his spacial foe. The lava threatening to rain down upon him, Mall keeps the descending drizzle from pouring onto him with a layer of solid space above; not a single drop able to even touch the starry angel’s very skin. Left distracted by the molten downpour, Tore takes this chance to steer right behind and rocket right towards his backside at breakneck speeds ready to strike with all his might.

Alas on the last moment does his swinging fist suddenly stop dead in the middle of the air, his knuckles just centimeters away from touching the cosmic angel’s back. Left paralyzed by the very space around him, all Tore could do was watch as his former mentor peers back into his very eyes; the last of the lava downpour dripping down behind him. “A valiant effort.” With this bit of praise however does Mall lift the blue ward up over his head while then criticizing how: “But physicality alone shall do little to aid you.” Upon declaring this, the cosmic angel thrust his palm downwards and sends Tore hurdling down towards one of the brimstone islands breaking up the lava lake; the blue crashing down and slide across the rough rock before stopping just short of the blistering hot rim. Though the blue boy attempts to stand back off the heated stone, his rise is ultimately cut short when his former master lands right onto his very chest and keeps him pinned to the hellish earth with just a single foot.

Struggling to escape underneath the spacial Kybr’s heel, the indigo angel gazes up to the lava behind him in his squirm and discovers something of note that he just now finds. Small schools of fish dressed in scales of pure bedrock leap right out from the depths of the lake, lively swimming through the lava as easily as freshwater. This only way outta this mess clear to him, the boy’s face tightens as he reaches out towards the rim; a sharp hiss sliding through the boy’s teeth before he swiftly dunks his limbs into the hellish molten goo. A sharp scream escapes from the boy maw as he keeps his arms submerged in the fiery lava, the odd and unpredictable act causing the cosmic angel’s guard to waver. Midst his agony do the pupils of his eyes start to glow a rainbow of color, Tore taking the moment to thrust his legs against Mall and kicking his former mentor off of him; bringing his arms back up to the surface as lunges after. His hands coated in a radiance of shimmering color, Tore reaches out to his fumbling foe’s head and clutches Mall’s very face; the indigo angel unleashing the life force he had somehow gathered into a point blank blast of radiant colors. The force alone was strong enough to send the spacial Kybr hurdling across lake, his body skipping across the surface like a tossed pebble until crashing right along side of a brimstone column.

While the hellish stone dust settles before him, Mall is left to ponder of the circumstances with utter: “That power. Where did-” While curiously questioning such does the angel direct his attention over to the very island he was blasted from, seeing the numerous scaly fish that had once jumped across the molten lava behind his ward now left bellying up; a proud smile stretches between his cheeks as pries himself out from the brimstone. “That’s much better.”

Whilst using what power was left to heal the numerous burns he had suffered, Tore watches as the man he once called his mentor hovers out to the very center of the lava cage and clasps his hands together; the space they both occupy once again contorting before his very eyes. The blue boy beholds the blister hot lava and brimstone that made up the environment now solidify and freeze as it starts to break apart; scorching heat of hell itself dipping into a deathly cold in a matter of just seconds. Tore starts to shiver and hovers upwards as the ground beneath him gives away, all the fiery light that shined from the lava disappearing and is replaced and coldly blue hue; the blue seeing his very breath permeate the frosty air. Within a matter of seconds does the indigo angel find himself floating within a frozen cavernous valley made up of thick icy paths, frosty slides, and arctic formations that stretch across the wide open cavern. Not this again.

Its in his shivering that Tore then peer out to the side and finds his cosmic foe floating in the middle of the freezing air, the spacial angel clasping his hands together before hammering himself straight in his very stomach; the impact causing dozens of cracks to rapidly grow along his figure. After this does Mall’s entire body break apart in a burst of glass, every single bit flying across the caverns and seeping into the icy formations that surround them. Despite this display of self destruction, the blue boy keeps his guard held high as he floats through the icy valley and prepares for whatever strange attack the cosmic Kybr has planned for him. Yet among his alert awareness does he fails to notice a faint light glimmering from the ice behind him; a reflection of his galactic foe’s figure sliding across the surface and sticks his arm right out to cast a star straight out to the blue ward. The starry blast hits the young angel’s back in a glittering explosion, sending Tore careening through frosty air. When finally stopping himself just before crashing straight into a hard icy wall, Tore peeks back to try and find what had thrown the glittering blast, but ultimately failing to find a single soul among the blue hue.

Its when seeking the culprit that he hears the strange sound of crackling ice behind him, the blue angel swiftly glancing back to discover his mentor within an icy slide behind him; Mall on the verge of tossing out another starry assault. In the nick of time does the blue boy evade his former mentor’s starry blast and chucks out his own pale energy straight out to Mall’s reflection; the icy formation he had dwell within shattering into glittering shards from the explosion. Even within the ice left into pieces, the young angel cannot find even a single sign of his former mentor among the frosty dust. While midst his confusion, Mall emerges out from the twisting icy pillar aside and rockets forth towards the blue boy; Tore himself glancing out just time to witness his former mentor on the approach. In the few seconds he had does the blue angel manage to evade the cosmic Kybr’s striking assault, his galactic foe just a few inches apart as he streaks right past. Even when having cleanly dodged the cosmic man’s surprise attack, the blue boy feels the very space behind him solidify; Tore looking over towards his former master and seeing him reach out to him with but the palm of his hand. Swinging his arm outwards does Mall cast his ward out through the icy cavern valley; Tore sent through icy paths and slides alike until crashing right into the valley’s hard ice wall.

Pulling himself straight out from the cavernous wall, the blue angel shakes off the ice stuck in his hair; his eyes widening when gazing ahead and finding the cosmic Kybr’s very image plastered across the icy formations making up the valley. He frantically looks through out all the ice paths, pillars, and slides in hopes of telling which of the many images of his former mentor be the right one as the slide across the surface like a pack of serpents; yet every single one he see’s prove completely identical to the rest. This isn’t good. Even if he comes out, there’s no way to physically touch him, not without something alive to draw power from. But what in the world could even survive in a place this blistering cold? Okay Tore, just think for a sec here. Think back to science class. The teach was going on about biology, right? Something about bacteria and micro organisms. She said that they were nearly in everything around us, even in like super extreme places like hot caves, hot springs, the depths of the ocean, even in Antartic- Its in pondering of his school teachers words that he snaps his sites over to the icy path that stretches beside him. Ice! That’s it! Upon this very revelation, the indigo angel glides down along the narrow icy path and slides the palm of his hand along its chilling cold surface; his mind focused on what microorganisms and bacteria could be dwelling underneath the frost. Its in his trip across the frosty narrow that bits of color start to slither through the solid ice and gather in the palm of his hands. When beholding all the life he had gathered from the microorganisms living within the ice, he’s left a little disappointed to find the size of a marble, one not even bigger than the palm of his hand. Huh. Guess this much is about what you’d expect from bacteria.

Venturing his site back towards the rest of the cavernous valley, the blue boy comes to find dozens upon dozens of his former master very image streak across every icy surface; each reflection moving of its own independence. Ain’t got much to work with here. Better make it count. Whilst keeping his eyes on the numerous pictures of the cosmic angel does he see them all suddenly disappear all at once; not a single trace of Mall left showing anywhere among the ice. Where...where did- In his frantic search for where the spacial Kybr could strike does he take a peek back just in time to see the cosmic angel charging out; mere moments away from ramming into him. With what life force he had gathered from the bacteria within the ice, the indigo angel coats the base of his foot its its colorful glow as he kicks out to his nearing foe; Tore kicking Mall straight into the roof of the icy cave. The very moment that the galactic angel crashes through the ceiling does the blue boy witness the icy valley he floats in crumbling like broken glass; all of their shards descending down into the deep black abyss set below.

In gliding through the void does the blue angel soon unintentionally flops down into solid ground; Tore prying himself out from the solid rock and discovers veins of bright lime green running across the rugged curving surface. Veering his sites upward does he find himself standing dead in the center of a wide crater that rival the size of several football fields. Along the surface of the crater do his pupils shrink when finding what were remains of colorful brick among the ruins; their once vibrant color having faded away from the anneals of time. This very site bubbles a powerful mix of dread and despair what was once buried within his very core; a feeling of sorrow that not only makes his very soul tremble, but makes him fall to his very knee’s. This place…

Before the boy could partake in a single moment of lament, his gaze is drawn upwards as an angelic shadow slides past his body; Tore gazing skywards to the very top of a long and towering flagpole where a torn banner holding what seemed was once a platypus. The blue boy see’s Mall perch himself at the very top end of this decrepit and ruined symbol; the galactic angel gazing down upon his wards as Tore slowly starts to rise back on his feet. “Magnificent show Tore. You’ve truly demonstrated greater promise that even the humans we had cultivated in the days of old. But this demonstration is not over yet. For now we reach the finale.” Declaring such does Mall suddenly rocket up high in the night sky, his cosmic trail overtaking the earthly stars. When hovering in the middle of the starry sky, the Kybr’s cosmic wings starts to vastly expand out; Mall blanketing the once peaceful starry sky above and transform them into the deep cosmos that reflects within his angelic wings. Swirling galaxies, leviathan sized planets, bright scorching suns, burning meteors, and billions upon billions of stars. Some of these stars gather onto the galactic angel’s back and bond together to give the angel a new starry set of wings as he descends down upon the glowing green earth; opening his eyes to face the blue angel that takes his stand against him with a determined and ready glare.

In just but a single instance does the entire length of Mall’s very figures stretch right out before the blue boy, the back of his body following after and catching right up as the cosmic angel stands before his pupil. Left caught off guard by his former mentor’s strange lunge out to him, all Tore could do to react was to leap back as he tosses out a ball of pale white out to the spacial Kybr; the retreating assault proving utterly fruitless as Tore’s blast scatters into pieces before even touching his foe. Witnessing his blue ward attempting to gain some distance, the cosmic angel reaches his arms up towards the cosmos that hangs above them both; some of the galaxies above drawn out from the reaches of space and shrinking as they near the planets surface. Though their immense size had been reduced significantly, these swirling galaxies still boasted the size of apartment complexes; the angel who had summoned them having next to no trouble hurdling them both out to his blue pupil.

Beholding these massive disk shaped celestial bodies swiftly glides right out at him, Tore up and decides to lunge out to them as they twirl his way; the light from their numerous stars glistening along his body as he squeezes right between them both. Finding his cast out celestial bodies having missed, the spacial angel thrusts his fingers out to both of the hurdling galaxies and commands them both to veer back towards the blue boy; Tore himself noticing the light from these galaxies and peering out to discover them both hurdling out to both of his side. With the pair of twin galaxies pinching out towards him, the blue angel stops dead in his track moments as they near and lets them both pass in front; their starry surfaces shining their glisten along the boy’s face as they pass through. Keeping his sites locked to the twin celestial bodies does he see them both steer themselves back out for another go at him; Tore seeing his moment when finding one of them approaching faster than the other. Just seconds before the edge of one of these celestial bodies could strike the indigo angel down, Tore clasps its very rim with nothing but his bare hands; the stars scraping against his palm as the impact drags him across the irradiated crater. Glancing past the galaxy trapped in his hands, the blue boy witnesses the other follow after the first, something that he had fully expected as he starts to lift the one he holds upwards and tosses it back to its twin; both of these galaxies colliding together and exploding in a shower of glowing stardust that lights the entire crater and the land behind.

Once the bright aftermath of the collision finally dims, Tore uncovers his eyes and glances around for any sign of his galactic foe; finding next to no sign of the spacial angel anywhere among the crater rubble. Its in that moment that he see’s the very sky itself start to glisten and aims his eye site above to find his former master hovering above; the fields of stars behind him rapidly twinkling as he points a single finger down upon the earth. From the cosmic skies above do all these thousands of stars all descend down from the very heavens akin to divine beams of light; every single one streaking down towards the blue boy in rapid fashion. The indigo angel glides across the green glowing crater as these numerous galactic rays crash down upon the earth in their attempt to strike him down; each descending star crashing down onto the earth he flies behind. Gazing back does Tore begin to see all the twinkling stars descending closer and closer as they all plummet from the skies above; some of them crashing down right behind his very feet. Aiming his sights towards his former mentor above, the blue boy watches the cosmic angel above and notices all the stars that rain down from the heavens streak right by him, as if commanding every one he summons from the depths of space to steer away from him. Doesn’t seem like he’s paying that much attention to them though. Wonder if…

Noticing this detail from his former mentor, the indigo angel peeks back and lobs out a bit of his own pale power out in a dynamic curveball; the sphere of white streaking along the surface of the crater as he ascends skywards across the cosmic sky above. Soon in its short journey through the sky does it blend in alongside the stream of descending stars and start to streak down towards the cosmic angel’s backside. Moments before the blue boy’s ball can strike the spacial angel down, Mall swiftly does a complete 180 to waft his pupils attempt of a sneak attack aside; the stars that streak past casting their light upon his disappointed glare. But in that very moment does the cosmic Kybr then feel something strike his very back, a second ball of pale light having exploded against Mall’s behind while his back was turned. All the stars from the cosmos above finally cease their torrential downpour as the angel who had commanded them himself plummets down towards the lime green crater in a smoking descent; the blue boy rocket right out towards his former master as he falls towards the earth.

Mere seconds before Tore could follow up his successful assault does his spacial foe suddenly stop in the air just before crashing into the glowing earth; Mall reaching his palm out to the approaching blue angel and halting him dead in his tracks. Before the indigo angel could even fight back against the space holding him in place, the cosmic angel casts him out from the earth and sends him skywards out to the cosmos above. Shortly after being flung skywards does Tore manage to regain his aerial balance, the blue boy peering back from whence he came to discover the scorching surface of the sun having replace the very earth he had been tossed from; its sheer light nearly blinding the boy as he hovers several feet above its blistering hot surface. Gazing away from the giant star’s fiery bright surface, the blue boy discovers the very angel that had sent him up now hovering above; the cosmic Kybr starring straight down upon his very ward despite the blinding sunlight behind him.

With nothing but a wave of the angel’s very hand does Mall push the blue boy out towards the blistering star set behind him; the gravity of the sun strengthening its pull towards what hovered around it and starts to drag the indigo angel towards its blazing hot surface. And though Tore fights back against the sun’s overwhelming gravitational pull, the incredible spacial force continues to drag him tick by tick towards his fiery doom. Among resisting this near dominant spacial force does the indigo angel see numerous flares spurt out from behind, Tore peering back to discover pillars of flame erupt out from the fiery surface and streak out towards him. While evading all the solar flares that burst from behind, all the blistering spurts send out a strong solar wind that starts to push the blue boy away; enduring the overwhelming sunny heat that bellows behind and glides him away from the surface. Watching his blue pupil begin to escape from the fiery star’s gravitational force, Mall reaches out towards the depths of the cosmo’s set behind them; the angel calling forth a shower of asteroids that all rain down towards the surface of the sun. Slithering around both the comet torrent from above and the pillars of flame that spurt out from below, Tore once again starts to be pulled towards the fiery sun; the gears in the blue boy’s head turning as he attempt to think of a way outta this mess. Midst pondering of such do his eyes manages to catch the site of one of the meteors that had been cast down towards the sun caught within a pillar of fire that spurts out from the surface; the intense force of the bursting combustion strong enough to send the asteroid flying back out to the depths of space. There it is. The ticket outta this mess.

Continuing to weave around the dozens of rising flames and falling boulders all around him, Tore keeps watch of all the rocks that plummet down towards the star set behind him; most of them disintegrates from the incredible heat as they reach the top of the simmering surface of the sun. What are ya trying to be polite now? Come on, just let one loose already! Watching among all the meteors that descend down towards the face of the sun that he see one of them plummet down towards a spot of the surface on the verge of bursting; the indigo angel chasing down the very asteroid as it plummets. Hovering from above does the spacial angel watch all this play out before him, Mall left perplexed as his blue pupil simply stands atop one of the falling comets that fall towards the gigantic star; both Tore and the rock swallowed by the sun’s intense light.

Meager moments just before the rock that the blue angel stands upon could touch down onto the fiery surface, an incredibly powerful solar flare bursts out from its very surface and erupts onto the bottom of the asteroid; the insane force of the rising flames shooting the rock and the boy who stands upon it out from the sun’s pull and through the torrent of comets. When seeing his indigo opponent rocket right out towards him, Mall redirects the path of a pair of asteroids that plummet beside him straight out to the rock his pupil rides; the spacial angel watching as the three comets collide into each other in a violent explosion of rock dust that blankets the light of the sun. Out from the asteroid dust does a lone hand emerge out from its very depths clutches tightly onto the cosmic Kybr’s very neck; the rest of the cloud scattering to reveal the very hand to belong to his unscathed blue ward. Having caught the cosmic angel in his clutches, the blue boy turns back towards the leviathan star that burns underneath them both and hurls his former mentor down towards its fiery hot surface; Tore watching as Mall hurdles towards the bright sun like a descending meteor. The bright sunlight from the star grows brighter as the cosmic angel falls closer to its very surface, the sun soon enveloping the very space they occupy within its solar warmth.

This incredibly blinding light eventually dims to show the blue boy fluttering back down within the glowing green ruins; Tore left peering along the sides of the crater for any sign of where his former mentor is. During this little look through these very ruins does the indigo angel notice a deep shadow beginning to loom over the irradiated earth, peering up to see what could cast such blanketing darkness; Tore’s left in astonishing horror when discovering what hangs above. Several thousand feet above earthly surface does he find Mall peering down upon him, a lone planet of which outclasses the very Earth itself dropping down from the depths of the cosmos behind him; its sheer size rivaling that of Neptune. The very angel that had summoned the descending planet disintegrates into stardust as its face passes through him, only leaving the earth itself right in the midst of its destructive path. Tore falls to the Earth as he watches the leviathan planet plummet; his knee’s trembling as he lands in the middle of the crater. Wha-what can I even...No...I won’t let it end like this! There’s gotta be something here, something to work with. But this crater, its all lifeless. Everything’s dead. Where on Earth can there be anything alive left around...Oh my god. That’s it!

Its in figuring out an incredible realization that the indigo angel thrusts his legs deep into the tainted soil; the blue boy punching his arms straight into the rock as the planet above grows ever closer. Just please work with me. There’s not much time left. The boys pleading thoughts pierce the craters irradiated soil and echo throughout the Earth, reaching the very essence of every living thing that dwells within and upon the planet. Bits of life from every person, every plant, every creature, every living organism starts to seep through the ground they stand or hover over; none of them even realizing the minuscule pieces of their lives were escaping from their beings. Even the energy of the planet’s core itself travels out from beneath the earth to reach out to the blue boy; every bit of life that burrowing through the earth at blinding speeds. The very sky and ground that make up the planet is glown alight as all the pieces of life gather towards the very point they had been called upon; all to gather within Tore’s very body. The crater that the boy has rooted itself in starts to let out a powerful glow as more and more power gathers within minutes.

Soon enough is the entire once dead crater proves ready to burst forth with all the life that had gather throughout the entire planet; the deathly lime green that had cursed the earth merging alongside all the color that had been collected. All at once does the collection of life spurt from the Earth in a ray of colorful light, the blue boy that had called upon it all leading it straight through the sky and to the oncoming planet above. Midst passing through the Earth’s atmosphere does color coated angel begin to feel the intense friction blister his very skin, the blue boy hissing in pain as he endures spacial entry. Can’t heal...Gotta put everything into this… His burning flight straight from his home takes him speeding towards the planet that plummets above; the indigo angel soon entering the stratosphere of the leviathan. In an instant does Tore pierces straight through the giant planets surface and continue through its rock like a bullet; tearing straight through towards its very core.

Hovering over all of this, the cosmic angel watches in awe as the colossal planet he had summoned forth, breaking apart as multiple colors fracture across its surface and exploding a burst of bright color. Peering past this glowing spurt does Mall discover a lone figure erupting out from the light at astounding speeds; Tore approaching from the planets remains with little lively color left streaking along his body. What powerful life he had left to spare, Tore cocks his arm back as far as possible while coating his very fist in the lively glow he nears his former mentor; ready to put everything he had gathered from the Earth into a single attack. The indigo angel eventually reaches his former superior and thrust what life he had left straight into his foe’s very stomach; both angels enveloped in a brilliant colorful glow stemming out from the point of impact.

Eventually does every piece of the lively glow fade away as the cosmo’s erected disappears; Tore left slowly hovering downwards as the space surrounding him is restored back into the very top of the golden spire where the feud had begun. Heavy breath pass out from his lips as he touches down onto the broken glass beneath his feet, the blue angel using what strength he had left spare to keep from collapsing onto the shards. Keeping stable enough, the boy gazes skywards up to the halo above and discover the picture of another dimension held within that’s halfway transparent. Still not too late...Just...Just need to…

Among this brief moment of respite and all the needed relief that it had given to the indigo angel is sudden shattered in but an instant when he starts to hear clapping; Tore’s pupils shrinking when peering back out to the side and discovering his former mentor alive and well, wearing a smile as he gives the boy an applause. “A magnificent performance, Tore. You’ve proven the potential to wield your aspect as as effectively as those in the days of old. Even with how much I had restrained myself, you’ve surpassed every single one of my expectation; I really couldn’t be more proud of you. You’re on your way of becoming a fully fledged Kybr.” “You’re...kidding...All that….was holding back to you!?” the indigo angel questions as he trembles. “Oh ho. Unfortunately so.” Mall confirms, commanding the space around his pupil to make him fall to his knee’s.

“Why then.. Why did you put me through all that? Why didn’t you just get it over with and finish me?” the blue boy demands to know, the angel he questions floating towards him. “I don’t want our bond to end in nothing but bitter blood; I meant it when claiming how you brought life back into my very existence, giving me the motivation and desire to continue. I am truly regretful to have kept the truth from you during their time together, afraid that it would drive you away. I couldn’t bare to be alone anymore, not in a universe that had cast our kind away. I truly did treasure the experiences I had shared with you Tore; I don’t wish for it to end like this.” In his struggle to arise from the shards of broken glass does the indigo angel peer up from the ground to witness a hand be extended down to him; Mall offering a welcoming arm as he pleads to the boy: “Please, Tore. I beg of you. Cease this hopeless struggle so that we may welcome the Kybr, our kin back to their long lost home.”

Nothing but the ambient winds are all that are heard for a couple moment before Tore finally starts to reach his hand out to the cosmic angel; Mall’s hopes beginning to rise as the boy’s as the boy’s hand nears. When just an inch away from him, Tore smacks his former mentor’s palm aside, at last responding back. “You don’t know how much I wanted something like this so badly. To have someone I could look up to in my times of need when I felt like every bit of hope was lost; somebody my dad wasn’t. I was starting to think at long last that wish was coming true. But all that wishing just led me straight to this! I can’t go down his road, Mall. There may be people you loved then trapped in there, but there are people now who love me here. If the Kybr are freed, there’s no guarantee the world I’ve come to know and love will live...If everyone in this universe will live. The existence both of us want...they can’t both be true.”

Despite the blue boy’s word of rejection leaving cosmic angel heartbroken, despite the stream of tears that flow from his eyes: he claims to him how: “I understand…” Mall aims his palm right above his blue wards head as glittering stardust starts to gather within his hand; the collecting cosmic power glistening against the boy’s face as a star forms before him. “The time I spent with you is something I will always treasure. I thank you for our time together.” As the light in the man’s hand grows its brightest, Tore shakes away what tears were left within and locks his eyes to the end; refusing to look away as he prepares for his former mentor to finish him then and there. Unyielding, to the last bit of life.

Right before the end could come upon him, Tore witnesses a gigantic pike of pure black thrust itself straight through his former mentor; the spear piercing most of the cosmic angel’s chest. A short breath escapes from Mall’s mouth as he displays a haunting mixture of shock and dreads; the stars that had gathered within the his palm dispersing as the pike within his very chest starts to withdraw from whence it came. The gravely wound the spear of black leaves behind shows the inside of the Kybr’s body reflecting the cosmo’s itself, the starry sky leaking out from the head sized hole like thick glittering blood, blood that splatters across the golden floor as Mall falls face first before his blue ward. Tore arises from the cracked glass floor as his former mentor falls face first, confusion and remorse easy to see across the boy’s eyes as he reaches down to the downed angel. “Mall?...” “Yo.” he hears a familiar voice grab his attention with.

His site drawn out towards the very edge of the spire, the indigo angel discovers the pike that had impaled his former master to withdraw to his purple brother’s side; both Roy and Mally standing atop the golden staircase as they gaze upon their blue brother in relief. “Glad to see we made it just in time.” the orange skater states. “Guys...Wha…what are you-” Tore is left to utter the blend of astonishing disbelief still fresh on display. “That shit should be obvious, ain’t it. Came all this way to see ya.” the merc obviously states with a pinch of sass, the two of them waltzing to their brother’s side. “Gotta say, Tore. You seriously wouldn’t believe the sort of sites we saw just trying to find you. Like I got some stories here that’ll make ya question what the hell we were even doing.” Mally remarks. “Seriously, it was already a pain in the ass to try and figure out where the hell ya went, you should see what sort of rowdy maniacs we had to bring along for the ride.” Roy adds. “Oh please. Like you’re in any position to judge anyone’s character without hypocrisy.” somebody from behind brings up.

Curious of who had given this very statement, the blue boy peers behind his sibs and sees a collection of five climbing over the golden steps that they had risen from ;Alex, Hank, Melvin, Vivi, and Ryan all stepping/hovering up to the top of the spire and taking in its glorious golden site. “Sweet plastic propellers, just look at all this! The blinking rings with wings, the golden swirls along the sheen, the halo spinning above. It all seriously looks like something straight out of a sci-fi novel. Don’t it make ya wanna dig straight in and figure out what sort of tech something like this could even be running on?” Hank geeks out with. “Meh, just looks pretty tacky to me.” Melvin beside him simply states.

Standing along the very rim of the spire, both Vivi and Ryan stare out into the blending site of the starry sky above and the sea of nightly clouds flowing below; the half skeleton left utterly star struck from the view alone. “Fucking sweet Jesus, look at all we be up in here! Its like the heaven went and decides to slip us a little site of the heaven underneath the skirt. We taking in the sweet shit, bitch.” “I just can’t imagine how we’re still even breathing all the way up here.” Ryan simply ponders aloud.

“I-I can’t believe all of you are even... How’d all of you even figured out where I was?” Tore questions his siblings. “Sure as hell wasn’t easy. Mal here kept following trail after trail of breadcrumbs in, out, and all around all over the fuckin place. Like we deadass found a hidden prehistoric land full of dinosaurs just trying to find ya.” “Wha! Aw, lucky. The only highlight of my trip was going down to hell.” the blue boy retorts. “Bruh, you fuckin serious?” While her bro’s continued to discuss points of their adventure, Mally’s gaze drifts over to the winged man that lies before them; the orange skater cutting through their conversation to question her blue bro if: “Uh, Tore. This guy do anything to ya to drag you with him?” The indigo angel ceases to speak for a brief moment as he gloom’s down to the remains of what he once called his spacial master; Tore taking in a deep breath before finally admitting how: “Nope. Went with him on my own?” “You’re kidding right? The hell would wanna make ya leave everyone behind after surviving a life threatening explosion just to pal around with this starry asshat ya barely know?” the purple merc questions him with. “I...I just felt...I just wanted someone with powers like mine to look up to, okay. Maybe to gimme some pointers on how all this works and what else I could do, I don’t know...What was I even thinking?…” Such a statement from their blue brothers draws out pity within their; Roy slightly shaking his head about as he peers down to the body of the cosmic angel.

“Hate to spoil this sentimental moment here, but can anyone enlighten us to what could be forming in the ring above.” “What!?” the blue angel utters, his sadness shattering into troubling alarm as he gazes skyward to the halo spinning above them all. Held within the twirling ring does the picture of the other dimension start to lose transparency, showing more and more of a solid picture depicting numerous angelic beings held within. “No!” Rushing right beside both his siblings does Tore race right to the center of the broken glass platform dwelling in the middle; the blue boy kneeling down and repeatedly slapping the palm of his hand against one of the chunks of glass. “Come on! Come on!” Despite repeatedly beating his hand against the glass, not a single sheen of light comes protruding out from its surface; the indigo angel letting out a frustrated groan before claiming aloud how: “Agh! The panel is completely broken! There’s no way to shut it off! So how else can we stop the warpgate from-...That’s it!”

Almost immediately does the blue boy race back towards his siblings side; the friends that they had gathered coming together as Tore proclaims to them how: “Guys, listen. If the control panel is down, then we don’t have much other choice then to head down in the center of this warpgate and destroy the Orphan.” “I like where this is going.” Alex remarks. “Say again?” Hank requests. “You seriously wantin us to fuck up an orphan, mate?” Vivian questions. “No, I- Th-That’s what they just call the core.” “Fucking call it the core then for god sake! Why ya gotta name it something so ominous?” Ryan blurts out. “But we didn’t find any other hall climbing up here. How the hell you expect us to find it?” Melvin asks. “Only a Kybr can use their power to open the way down into the center. But we gotta hurry; there might not be much time left.” Upon this desperate plea does Tore start to follow the others as all of them sprint out to the stairs they came up from; every single one of them stopping straight dead in their tracks when all of them hear a voice demanding that they all: “Stop!”

This very call withdraws their attention back towards the center of the spire; all of them beholding the man that Roy had struck down slowly hobbling right off the broken glass beneath his feet, despite harboring the gaping hole in his chest that continues to bleed out the cosmo’s. In between his breaths does he aim his piercing glare to them all as he claims to them how: “I refuse to let it end like this...I refuse to spend another waking moment in this world without the warming embrace of my own kind.” With this declaration cemented, an incredible wave of spacial power begins to envelope the angel’s wounded body; his once human like skin beginning to reflect countless planets, stars, and entire galaxies. “The Kybr are coming home!”

This commitment set, a monumental torrent of cosmic energy bursts out from Mall’s very being; a powerful shock wave that nearly sends everyone flying right off the spire. The earthly night sky is rend apart to reveal the depths of the cosmos underneath the blanket of stars, all while Mall’s body starts to implode in order to start metamorphosing into an entirely different being. Midst this transformation do both Roy and Mall cast forth a beam of dark purple and the yoyo gadget respectively; their desperate assault however repelled back by the incredible spacial gravity that floods out from their foe.

The angel’s drastic transformation proving to be utterly unstoppable, the boy that Mall had once called his own ward turns back over to all to his friends and family and demands that Roy: “Roy. I need you to lead everyone down into the hall and slap your hand against the inner side. You’ll open up a tunnel that leads down to the very center of the warpgate. You’ll know you found the core when you see a glowing baby floating in the middle of a bunch of spinning golden ring.” “Is that seriously why they call it the Orphan? What the f-” “Just go now! Before the portal opens!” All but the blue angel start to races straight down the golden step dash through into the hall without so much as another word; leaving Tore to face the mass of cosmic space he had once knew as his master, watching as countless wings start to sprout from the collection of cosmos. It doesn’t matter if you can’t be beaten, it doesn’t matter if you have the entirety of space under your beck and call. Just need to buy time for them all to go down and stop the warp gate from opening. If they can do all that, then it’ll be all worth it. It’ll be all worth it. It won’t matter if this is how things end.

Among his moment of preparation for what he may presume to be his final moments facing immeasurable odds, Tore then discovers both his brother and sister coming to his sides; the indigo angel demanding to know: “What are you two doing!? If the core isn’t destroyed then-” “Relax. Our pals down there got it all covered. And beside, you need more help up here than they do down there.” his orange sister informs. “Nrr! Do you know what’s even at stake here!?” “You seriously think we don’t know? We didn’t wind up following this trail of vague clues just to be told to piss off. We fought through the worst sort of shit nature could possibly hack up from every one of its holes just to find ya, and were damn well not gonna just up and leave like that.” Roy boasts out. “We started this hole journey separated, so now were gonna finish it together. You’re stuck with us weather you like it or not, and their ain’t a damn thing you can do about it.” Mally protests. “Guys…” Despite this nigh upset tone, a river of tears begin to flood out from the ducts of his eyes; Tore letting out a small snivel before crying: “Thanks. You two are the best pair of siblings anyone could ask for.” After their blue brother wipes away the tears from his eyes, he joins his purple brother and orange sister as they steel their conviction against the outer worldly foe before them; taking their stand against such immeasurable odds together.

The mass of unfiltered cosmic space finally takes its tangible form before the trio; hundreds upon hundreds of wings stretching for miles on end all swirls out from the center, their flesh made from the twinkling stars and galaxies of the universe as countless eyes all open upon from beneath its very skin. In the very center of this celestial body where the countless wings swirl from, a massive eye opens that twinkles and glows like the depths of the cosmos itself. The angel’s celestial transformation finished, Mall lets out a heavenly holy roar from the depths of their very soul; an incredible howl that shatters the very space they all dwell in. The scene of the golden tower breaks apart into thousands of pieces, the very floor they stand on crumbles away, the sky itself shatters until none of it remains; all of it swallowed by the scene of stars, planets, galaxies all floating within the depths of space. Tore, Mally, and Roy all now hover within this very cosmos with their holy foe floating before them, every single eye along the angel’s body staring down upon them all.

The first assault that the holy abomination throws out against the trio be an entire wave of numerous planetoids that all streak out from the cosmo’s held withing Mall’s very wings; all of them boasting unique shapes as they hurdle out towards the three. Seeing the storm of approaching planets close in, Tore grasps his sisters hand as both Roy and he glide out to the approaching barrage of worlds; soaring along and over the surface of not just spherical planets, but flat discs, waning crescents, leaning parallelograms, and numerous other strangely shaped polygons that careen in their direction. While holding onto her brother as he soars through the stream of small planets, Mally feels the light gravity of each beckon her to their almost smooth, polished surfaces; their gravitational pull giving the orange skater a clever little idea. “Tore!” she alerts her blue brother with. “Yeah?” “I think I know a way to close the distance. Fling me to one of those planet.” “What!? What are you even-” “Just do it!”

Despite his initial hesitation, the indigo angel flings his orange sister out towards one of the approaching disc shaped planetoids; Mally reaches out from behind to pull out her skating gear and swiftly starts to strap on her skates. The lass manages to don her skates moments before she approaches the planets surface and glides across its very face as smoothly as a knife cutting through silky smooth butter; the orange skater taking out both her hockey stick and grapple yo as she nears the end of the planetoid. Reaching the very edge does Mally leap right off the planet and out towards the next, flipping across space as she escapes the gravitational pull of the previous world and let the triangular one ahead pull her straight in. Gliding right across one of the triangle worlds sides, the orange skater sets her sites outwards towards a nearby waning crescent and leaps right off towards the moon; feeling the gravity pull against her body as she jumps between these planets. Mally glides across the inner edge of the waning moonside as naturally as a halfpipe, weaving around large worms that burrow in and out from the moon’s very rock; her sites drawn over towards a hexagram world made from crystallized tungsten and keeps her grapple yo handy when nearing the end of the crescent she skates on. Launching herself straight off the side of the moon, the orange lass drifts out towards the tungsten hexagram and cast her trusty gadget out to one of its pointed ends; the grapple yo’s string wrapping around the rugged point and letting the girl twirl around and around, constantly using the momentum to keep building speed. Upon finally unraveling her string from the point of raw tungsten, Mally flings herself out at breakneck speed; making a complete beeline straight for their celestial foe.

Closing the distance between her and the angelic horror, the orange haired girl swings her hockey stick towards the monstrous angel’s center eye; her tip of her weapons head stopping just short of Mall’s starry sclera. The orange lass is forced to a stop right before she could strike her leviathan foe, Mally struggling to push against whatever force is stopping her short of smacking the eye of the holy monster. Midst her struggles is she ultimately catapulted away from the abominations twinkling eye by an incredibly strong wave of space, one that Mally blocks with the neck of her weapon. Though she is mostly spared from the overwhelming spacial power, her precious hockey stick is scrambled to pieces under the powerful wave; Mally threatening to drift out towards the depths of the cosmo’s.

Before the young girl could drift too far out into the depths of the infinite, a streak of black and violet sweeps her away; Mally opening her eyes to find herself resting in her purple brothers arms. “Damn, took one helluva blow there, huh. Shocked your still in once piece.” he comments. “But, but my hockey stick…” she utters, peering over her brother’s shoulder. Glancing back to where his sis stares does he see what was left of her once treasured weapons; its remains threatening to drift away into the cosmos. “Hang on a sec.” the purple angel request as he casts his newfound dark arm out towards what was left of his sisters weapon. Upon nearing the scattered pieces of wood does the arm split into dozens of strands that all reach out to every single fractured splinter that once made up the hockey stick; all of its chunks cobbling together among the mass of darkness as it retreats back to its very sender. When returning to their side, Mally finds her destroyed weapon now glued back together by the very matter that makes up her brother’s arm; Roy himself handing the rebuilt hockey back into his sisters hand as he ask her how: “You remember how I get my arm to transform?” “By thought, right?” “Think of a weapon while ya hold it.” Like her brother instructs her to do, Mally starts to concentrate on a particular new weapon different to the one in her hands; the orange lass witnessing the head of her hockey stick engulf in the black matter that holds it together, stretching out into the long black blade of a great scythe. “There ya go.” “Nice.”

Its in this very moment that the stars within the cosmic angel’s center eyes start dim, Mall’s entire pupil and sclera darkening as black as coal, the rest of the eyes decorating the holy monsters wings following suit and dimming into darkness. The trio watch as their galactic foe splits themselves straight in half, both fracture pieces parting ways to unveil a tiny black dot that begins to draw in the nearby stars; the hole quickly growing to threaten to pull all of them into its void. Amidst being dragged straight into the darkness, Roy tosses his sister away from the hole’s monumental pull; the strength of the merc’s throw letting Mally escape towards a nearby planet as both he and Tore are threatened to be pulled into the black holes depths. Among gliding across the stars, the orange skater acts fast and flings her trusty grapple yo out towards her retreating blue brother; grabbing the blue boy’s attention with: “Tore!” Peering out where his orange sister floats away, the indigo angel sees the girls yoyo wrap itself all around his leg and further hears Mally demand that he: “Grab Roy!”

Without so much as another word does Tore start to race out towards their purple brother as he threatens to plunge into the void, all while their orange sis drifts off towards a nearby planet with her weapon at the ready. Upon touching down onto the planets surface, Mally digs the head of her transformed weapon straight into the worlds very soil; strands of the blade breaking off and rooting themselves into the planet. As her blue brother clutches their violet siblings arm moments as they were nearing the abyss, Mally wraps the steel string of her gadget around her very arm and keeps a tight hold of them both; fighting against the overwhelming strength of the black hole’s pull. Amidst her steadfast struggle does the steel string around her arm harshly chaff her, the incredibly tight friction cutting through her skin and causing her arm to bleed; the orange lass refusing to let go despite the overwhelming pain. For about half a minute straight does the orange girl keep her brothers from falling into the depths of the black hole, even as space around her is rend into its lifeless void; Mally’s pupil’s glowing a distinct blood red as she keeps hold of the pair of angels.

But at long last does the strength of the void finally dissolve away and its very pull fading from the space around them; Mally jerking her brothers back out towards her as the black hole finally putters out into nothingness. Rescued from their doom, Tore lets out a sharp hiss when discovering the orange girls arm left cut and torn as the blood that leaves it hovers out into the depths of space. Aw, that ain’t good. That seriously isn’t good. While unwrapping his sister gadget from his own leg leg, the blue boy notices the yoyo’s shell glowing alight; the crystal held within reflecting a glow quite similar to the life he’s pulled from other sources. Think it needs a tiny bit more juice. Clasping the shell of the gadget into the palm of his hand, the indigo angel disperses a little more of his power into the crystal with; his sisters grapple yo glowing brighter with a multitude of colors. Once beaming bright with life, Tore flings his siblings gadget back into her side as its string retracts into the shell; some of the power kept with splashing onto the girls arm as the grapple yo returns into her hand. This very power closes Mally’s bleeding wound and mends the pain throbbing across her arm; the skater herself recovering from the agonizing suffering and peering over to see her gadget to find its shell beaming with colorful light. “We got ya back, Mal.” the blue angel claims “Go ahead and beat this mofo down.” their purple brother tells her. Knowing her brothers got her back, Mally casts her colorful glowing gadget straight out to a nearby asteroid; the skater retracting the string back to fling herself out towards their holy foe.

Among gliding out towards the cosmic angel before them, the orange skater first comes across an entire cluster of solid stars and asteroids standing in her way; Mally drifting herself out towards one of these solid stars and leaping right across its crystallized surface and bouncing from star to star. Once making out of the dense star cluster does the girl then discover a planet with a ring around it similar to Saturn’s own; a big smile stretching across her face as she nears the very edge of the ring. With nothing but her own pair of skates does Mally grind right across the rings sharp edge, the sparks that result from grinding along the ring glowing a starry light as she slides right across the planets ring and leaps back out towards the spacial angel before them.

With the angel’s foes on the approach, Mall’s center eyes closes for a moment as its wings close inward; opening its pupil wide once more and flapping their wings to send out a visible pulse of cosmic radiation, a wave which reduces all that stand in its path. The threat of this radioactive wave ready to tear them all asunder, the pair of angels streak right past their orange sister and prepare to disperses the oncoming assault; the blue boy out of them shouting how: “Still got some life left in me!” Placing the palms of his hands upon his very chest, Tore draws forth colorful batch of power from the depths of his very body and unleashes it all into an intense beam of rainbows; the colorful ray cutting straight through half of the radiation. “That’s the spirit. Lets show this cosmic bastard why you shouldn’t piss us off!” Roy cheers on as he sharpen his onyx arm into the shape of a giant blade. With but a couple of swipes does the violet angel manage to slice straight through what remains of the radioactive wave; finally clearing the way and letting their sister streak right by.

With nothing else standing in the way towards the angelic horror, the orange skater starts to tie the string of her glowing grapple yo right around the neck of her dark matter infused weapon; commanding the very material to transform the hockey stick into a twinblade, one with a deadly swords protruding out from each end. With both her gadget and weapon tied together, Mally flings both of them out as she starts to twirl through the space before the holy horror; Mall themselves attempting to prevent the girls oncoming assault by stretching the space between them. In a ball of brilliant life and scorning rage, tied together by blood do the weapons streak straight through the artificially lengthened space and strike the angel straight into the center of its middle eye; pieces of the cosmic holy being breaking apart as he reels back from the overwhelming impact.

Shortly after the blow does Mall let out a holy screech that pushes back all that near; the skater that inflicted the blow sent flying back out to the depths of the cosmo’s behind her. Before she could be cast away into the endless infinite, a streak of white and blue zooms out and swipes the girl back toward their purple brothers side; Tore stopping right beside his purple brother just in time to witness their foe arise back up from the blow; its flapping wings distorting the very space it dwells within. “Didn’t like that too much, did it? Practically throwing a shit fit, tearing up space like a little tike shredding paper here.” Roy belittles. “If Mall doesn’t like this, then he sure ain’t gonna appreciate the rest of what we got to give him.” his blue brother expresses with clear vitriol in his voice.

Among venturing through the warpgate’s inner tunnels of numerous running veins and pulsing flesh, Vivi, Ryan, Melvin, Hank and Alex all finally come to the very core and behold the Orphan in all of its shinning glory; the child hovering in the middle glimmering brightly midst the rings that surround it. “Holy shit, man. You guys even consider for a sec the whole uncomfortable subtexts of this sorta bull might be; like fucking step back and think for a sec here. It’s all the theories with the final boss of Earthbound all over again about Giygas being a-” Before the young teen could finish his implicate thoughts over what they were about to do, the rest of them all immediately charge out towards the holy core all at once; Ryan himself letting out a small sigh before he runs after and proclaiming: “Sure whatev, just-...We don’t even have a plan yet!”

Hovering into the air before the shimmering holy core, Hank taps a few buttons along his armrest to unleash an entire cluster of missiles constructed from soup cans from his wheelchair compartments; a holy light beginning to glow out from the dozens of eyes that decorate the Orphans revolving rings as the missiles approach. In but a matter of seconds do all the eyes fire out a salvo of bright rays that curve through the air, perfectly striking out every single makeshift missile hank had launched out; reducing their aluminum to smoldering slag.

Among all the resulting smoke from the failed missile strike, Alex rockets upwards towards the very core of the Orphan in an attempting a beeline assault from below, transforming his arms into deadly weapons as he nears the outer rings. With the demon approaching, the outer rim starts to violently spin about as the light from its numerous eyes starts to glisten once more; the holy glow that glimmers from its pupils soon transforms into a solid shape and smacks Alex aside. Latched upon the veins hanging overhead, Vivian then tries to her luck in bombing down towards the core from below; the ring spinning in the opposite direction to swing its objects of solid light out to the skull girl and smack her aside like the demon.

Lunging out in the middle like a tried and true arrow, Melvin swipes through the ring’s solid light and reduces their glow to glittering shards that dissipate in the air; slipping by the rest of the rings and ready to strike the very core. Alas is the young man’s attempts thwarted when the Orphan lets out a Holy outcry similar to a crying infant; a wave of brilliant light that launches Melvin away.

While Hank simply hovers back to Ryan’s side, the other three roughly crash right before the two; Ryan taking in a little breath before asking the trio: “So, you guys wanna try charging out like a buncha eager jackass’s or do you wanna actually formulate a plan here?” “Fuck off!” all three of them shout.

Back up above do Tore, Mally, and Roy continue to thwart off the spacial assault thrown to them by the cosmic holy horror hovering before them; all three watching closely as the angelic being commands every star that occupies the cosmo’s around them to gather before him. Every single glistening star is collected out from the depths of space and is gathered before Mall, their numerous gaseous light collaborating together into an intensely bright and powerfully hot sun; this freshly born star’s very surface blistering hot enough to spew out flames from its very surface that all rocket towards the trio. The three split apart as the bouts of searing flames near them all, nearly avoiding being cooked alive as the purple merc among them states that: “Think it’s my turn to take a shot at this celestial asshole.”

Declaring such does the violet angel take off after the celestial entity set behind the very sun it had conjured, all while the sun’s surface continue to spew out dozens upon dozens of solar flares across its surface; both his brother and sister watching his back as he starts to move in. As some of these searing pillars of flame start to streak out towards the purple merc, his indigo brother swoops straight in with a lively power held in his hands; Tore casting out a colorful wave from the palm of his hand to disperse the approaching flare. When this beam of rainbows streaks right along his side, Roy feels something else irradiate from beneath this very wave; the violet angel peering back towards its very caster to sense that feeling coming from his very own brother. Set upon his face as clear as day could Roy see the seething anger painted across Tore’s face, showing the new found contempt he feels nowhere near being as much as what wells within the depths of his very soul; such a righteous fury making his new arm of dark black quiver.

Amidst staring out to his blue brother do numerous more flames come spewing out from the surface of the small sun; the fiery inferno’s streaking across space and towards the approaching violet angel. Just moments before these approaching fires could envelope the purple merc in their blazing fury, Roy feels a strand of steel string envelope his very hips and peers aside to see his orange sister pulling herself out towards him with freshly repaired hockey stick in hand; Mally swinging herself out before her violet brother to confront the approaching flame. Brandishing her trusty weapon does the orange skater start to rapidly twirl it out against the flames as the dark matter keeping it together widens out into giant fans, the black fan’s massive width quelling the solar flames away and reducing them to meager embers.

While his sis swings right out from his very flight path, the purple merc finds her donning a similar glare akin to their blue brothers anger; a potent rage directed towards their spacial foe. Tore looked up to this guy and in the end just wound up stabbing him in the back. And Mally here risked life and limb just to track him down and we come up to see all this shit go down. Ain’t hard to see why they’re so mad at this bastard. Sympathizing with his siblings unkempt fury, Roy feels his newfound limb begin to violently pulse upon these feeling of justified anger, the merc looking to the quivering arm as a sinister smile stretches across his cheeks.

Upon nearing the scorching sunlight, the violet angel thrusts his dark arm straight out towards the blistering bright star; the dark matter that makes up his hand growing to exponential size while its very finger start to twist and contort themselves into a recognizable shape. The cosmic angel’s sparkling pupil shrink when beholding the mass of darkness spread before him and very sun he had conjured; the mass of dark matter set before the holy being expanding into the leviathan sized head of a pitch black wolf. Mall left with only a few seconds before both them and the star they had conjured are devoured in a single bite, the sun vanishes underneath the black canines maw as the light that came from the sun is snuffed out; darkness starts to settle within the very space they all dwell.

Just meager seconds after this black void settles do pillars of pure light start to pierce straight through the head of the dark wolf and seep out into the surrounding cosmo’s; the wolf eventually exploding in a big bang as waves of galaxies flow out from the blast. From this brilliant supernova does the purple angel’s arm retract back to his side, all while he hand his siblings peering out beyond all the cosmic colors to behold the cosmic angel hovering in the center of it all; all of them noticing the numerous wings that the holy being had boasted reduced in numbers. “Doesn’t seem like this galactic jackass can take much more.” the merc claims. “We just need to get one more clean hit in and this angel will be down for the count.” the orange skater suggests. “I’m the guy that started this whole mess, seems only fitting that I go in and end it.” the blue boy offers.

Down within the inner workings of the warp gate does Ryan continue to watch his four comrades continue to fruitlessly attempt to break through the Orphan’s defenses, watching as Vivian keeps recklessly charging out, Alex’s constantly shifting and morphing weapon limbs, Melvin’s leaps and bounds along every angel he could take; and Hank trying numerous weapons and gadgets; all of it deflected, smacked aside, and pushed back by the Orphan’s might. Thrust straight into the wall of veins and flesh, the demon gazes over to the core that they assaulted to find the results of their attack having done less than little; the rings spinning along the Orphan continuing to glow as bright as the heavens. Thought the frustration beginning to build within him over this seemingly unbreakable wall, all that anger starts to subside when he eyes the skull girl pulling her severed bone arm right out from between a set of veins; Vivi jerking her arm back to finally uproot her limb and tear through the squishy flesh. From within these torn veins does a strange liquid spurt out and spill onto the floor, Alex following where the torn veins would lead to and sees this fleshy pipe stretching to the center of the chamber; it and other pipes protruding up to the Orphan right above.

Its upon this very discovery that the orange haired demon starts piecing together a plausible strategy within his black horned head, first calling Vivi’s attention with: “Hey, you withered skeletal annoyance, I need your attention for a moment!” The demon’s call proves incredibly effective at drawing the huffed half skeleton straight to him, Vivian getting all up in Alex’s face as she growl: “The hell’s yo problem, ya fuckin whole horned cock head!?” Pushing the skull girl away, Alex then points out towards the walls of the chamber and asks her: “Please direct what little span of attention you can wield and peer out to the numerous pipes and veins that decorate these walls.” Gazing out to the very veins the demon points towards, Vivi responds back with: “Yeah, pretty damn disturbing if ya ask me. The hell’s your point?” “From what I’ve been informed, you’re at least decently competent with a scythe.” “Who the hell told ya that shit!?” she blurts out. “I need you to travel along these very walls cutting these numerous veins that pump out precious juices straight into the core. Like that, we can effectively cut off our foe’s support.” “Ya got two limbs that can turn into fucking swords! The hell’s stopping you from doing it?” “Because I am in the midst of formulating a plan. One that might just give us what we need to stop our encroaching doom, and I unfortunately need all of your cooperation.” Hearing the demon’s words, Vivian peers back over to all the fleshy pipes that the walls of the core’s chamber as a blend of worry and doubt washes over her. The girl takes a moment to take in a calming breath before she claims that she’s: “Fine. On it.”

Midst racing towards the very edge of the chamber, the skull girl stretches her boney limb out into the air while focusing on the very tool that she loathes; the very same scythe that proves as a reminder of her fate. In a flash of bright lime green does the scythe of death materialize in Vivian’s hand, the skull girl clutching its neck with both hands as she approaches the numerous precious veins that lend the core its very life. While racing across the side of the chamber, Vivi flails the blade of her scythe against the numerous veins that decorate its very walls; bouts of ooze bursting out from underneath their cut flesh. While watching his skeletal ally rend apart the dozens of fleshy pipes set across the walls, Alex finds all the color that flows through these veins fade away and drain the core connected to them of precious support; the light that shines from the Orphan slowly starting to dim.

The piece of his plan falling into place, Alex peers over to the wayside and finds both Hank and Ryan in the middle of reloading their crudely made weaponry; the demon appearing to their side in a puff of smoke as Ryan questions: “The hell is Vivi doing flailing her scythe around like a mad woman? Practically gonna lose more than an arm doing that.” “Your foul tempered pal there is busy weakening the core’s support in accordance to my strategy. I’m sure whatever she loses can be firmly glued back on.” the demon answers. “Ooh, a strategy? Just what sort of plan ya got cookin up in that horned head of yours?” Hank gleefully questions. “The next step of my brilliant strategy is to halt the numerous rings from rapidly twirling about in order to gauge closer to the core. Hmm...Alas, I don’t imagine much in here that could serve to slow their rotation.” “I think I got something here that might cover that.” the wheelchair bound genius mentions while reaching down into a compartment along the side of his chair.

From the pocket of his chair does Hank pull out a couple guns crudely made from discarded plastic and splintered wood; both Alex and Ryan gazing upon these presented weapons with their own brand of “are you fucking kidding me here”, the demon among them questioning: “What manner of shoddy craftsmanship is this?” “Am I glad you asked. These babies are specifically designed in mind to fire out a special quick drying adhesive I use when constructing any aircraft’s. This stuff’s seriously strong enough to take going through a raging twister and coming out whole.” “Where did you get something that strong?” Ryan follows. “Something that me and I couple of my workshop pal’s cooked up out of old chewed up gum, tree sap, glue, rhino snot and-” “Don’t care. Just use it to keep that things rings from moving another inch.” Alex demands out of them both.

Upon this very request does Hank toss Ryan one of these specially made weapons as both of them race out towards the sides of the chamber, the chairbound genius gliding out towards the left as his parnter jumps out to the right. When along both of the glowing Orphan’s sides, the two boys pull the triggers of their crude guns for their barrels to spurt out globs of white glue straight out towards the core’s outer rings; the child hovering in the middle letting out an irritated outcry as some of the adhesive lands straight into the ring’s eyes.

Midst partaking in the truly bizarre site of both boys constantly firing out globs of glue out to the angelic monstrosity set before him, Melvin is left in a sort of strange disbelief from this site laying out before him; the young man lightly shaking his head as he mentions: “I...I don’t think anything could’ve prepared me for the sort of shit I’d see today.” “Then I sure hope you’re prepared to follow my lead in the finale.” Alex demands as he glides right by, Melvin growls over while he joins the demon’s side; both of them lunge forth towards the shinning Orphan at breakneck speeds.

Out from along the reaches of the freshly created cosmos, Tore and his siblings start racing straight out towards the cosmic angel; discussing on how they’ll deliver the final blow as Roy ask: “Both of us threw all we got at this galactic son of a bitch, how ya wanna end things bro?” “I’m just about tapped out myself here. You guys don’t mind given me a bit of a boost here, do ya?” the indigo angel asks. “Whateva ya need, man.” “Yeah, big bro. What ya need us to do.” Mally agrees. “Okay, ju-just don’t panic if it feels like your dying. I promise I’m just gonna take a little here.” “Wait, little of wha-”

Before the merc could question what exactly his blue brother was on about, Tore slaps his palms along his sibs sides; the two feeling rather woozy as the indigo angel extracts some of their life forced from the depths of their bodies. “Whoo. Holy...What the heck was that all about?” the orange skater questions, shaking off her inherent dizziness. “It’ll be the parts of you guys I need to end this.” Tore proclaims, holding both bits of life he had collected from his siblings in both hands. In a single moment does he shove essence of their very souls straight through his chest, their life force surging through his body and melding with his with his own to create a burst of raw power; a rainbow of colors surging through his entire body. “Ready to go!”

With the very life force given to him by his siblings held withing his very body, Tore zooms out towards their celestial foe with both his brother and sister by his side; Mall twisting the very space before him to hinder their assault forth and creating countless wormholes around them. Though Tore manages to evade the reach of these numerous wormholes, both of the indigo angel’s siblings unfortunately fall through a pair of portals that swallow them hole; the two of them spat out far behind their blue bro. “Ain’t gonna get us outta the game that easily!” Mally warns as both her and Roy casting forth her grapple yo and his new dark arm respectively, spearheading through the cosmo’s to reach their blue brother. When the limb and gadget both wrap themselves around the indigo angel’s legs, the two of them shoot throughout the depths of space and start to close the gap between them.

From what remained of the Kybr’s true form, Mall expels out entire galaxies from the cosmos held within his numerous fractured wings; their starry edges their very edges cutting through the very space they dwell in like a galactic saw blade. As the indigo angel weaves around the solar systems that are launches his way, his siblings latched behind him smack away their very stars as they get closer and closer to their blue bro; each galaxy breaking into nothing but stardust open being struck. With just a few moments away from collision, the cosmic angel unfurls their wings and sends forth one last leviathan galaxy out in an effort and thwart their assault once and for; Mall’s blue ward left in awe from the sheer size of the sent out solar system that hurdles his way. Just when facing the end of his final assault upon his former master, the blue boy witnesses siblings fling themselves out from behind him and towards the oncoming galaxy; both the orange skater and purple merc using the dark weapons in their hands to slice the very stars into shards and giving their brother the way forth. “All you Tore!” “Go for it!” Both his loyal brother and sister having given him a way forth towards the end, Tore speeds out towards their celestial foe as fast as he could; packing all the power he had gathered into his fist as he nears Mall’s center eye.

Within the core chamber, all of the glue that both Hank and Ryan had shot out in their pinching barrage starts to stick to the Orphans spiraling golden rings and keeps them from moving another inch; their ammunition running out before they could shoot out to the last few rings closest to the core. “I’m out.” Ryan warns. “Me too.” Hank adds. “Shit, now what?” Melvin questions. “We keep moving!” Alex orders. The demon determined to finish the final step of his strategy, both Melvin and Alex lunge forth towards the glistening child like core.

Seeing the core itself unleash a shining ray out towards them both, the young man zips out ahead and powers straight through the burning light to reach towards inner rings protecting the Orphan. Upon landing right above the core does Melvin take an iron vice grip onto the few remaining golden rings, feeling their incredible holy light burn his demonic infused hands as he keeps the halo’s from moving another inch. “Finish it!” he screams out. Requested out from his partner, the orange demon prepares to deal the ending attack to the open infant shaped core among the still halos; Alex morphing his arm into a sharp tipped pike as he nears towards the end.

Putting every single bit of power he had left to muster behind his swing, Tore thrusts his colorfully glowing fist straight through his former mentor’s center eye; Mall letting out a loud, ear piercing shriek as the life his student had gathered breaks apart his celestial body.

Once before the child shaped core of the warp gate, Alex thrusts his transformed pike limb straight through its glowing body; the core letting out a loud outcry as the darkness from the demon’s arm spreads within and fractures it to pieces.

Upon both of these finishing blows are the space around them all engulfed in a brilliant light; blinding all who behold its majestic glory as both the cosmic angel and holy child’s forms break apart. This awesome heavenly light slowly begins to fade away from view, away from this very existence only for all to dim into darkness once more.

An exhausted groan escapes him as Tore starts to open his eyes, obtaining the first lovely view of the morning sun arising out from the cloudy sea; the blue boy pushing himself right off the golden floor and stands upon his very knee’s. Peering over does he discover not just his family that had aided him in his ultimate hour of need, but all their friends as well; all of them lying along the golden spire floor unconscious; the early sunlight shinning its warming glow upon their sides. We’re back...Does that mean…? His vision peers skywards towards the golden halo hanging above them all, the picture of the other dimension held within its very rim was no more. The boy’s head droops down to the golden floor as an incredible relief washes over the indigo angel; certain this entire ordeal, the threat of the Kybr, was stopped just in time. His eyes arising from his own relieved reflection along the golden floor, a forlorn stare spread across his face as a peculiar site catches the blue boy’s attention; the blue boy finally standing on his own two feet and stumbling over towards such.

When awakening from their exhausted stupor, each one of them find themselves laying outside the spire and take in the welcoming site of the morning sky; the fresh twilight breeze all the more relaxing after the turmoil they had endured. While taking in the wonderful site along with their well earned victory, Mally suddenly feels somebody tackle her back down upon the ground; peering over her shoulder upon falling to discover her skeletal pal giving her a tight hug as she shout: “Hell yeah, bitch! That whole fucking show was insane! Still can’t believe all of us stopped shit from hitting the fan here!” “You’re telling me. I didn’t think we were gonna make it. After all the crazy stuff we all went through, It’s hard to believe we stopped all this from going off.” the orange skater admits.

During their little celebration, Hank rolls along over alongside Ryan as the wheelbound genius takes in a much more intrigued look to their surroundings and claims that: “Now that we stopped all of heavenly hell from busting loose. I wanna take a real good look at the kind of technology that makes this big old tower tick. I wonder how many gadgets and gizmo’s I could make from salvaging its parts?” “Seriously hope yer not planning on using any of the nasty shit we saw down there; cause I ain’t touching any of that stuff as long as I live. The way that all that squishy meat felt under his feet is something I might haveta blow money at just going to therapy for.”

“From the way things sound, seems like all of you did a bang ass job without us. Bravo there, kids.” Roy applauds to both Alex and Melvin, who stand before him. “Well, it was mostly thanks to my strategic prowess that the day had been won. No need to thank me.” the demon boasts aloud. “Motherfuc- So all the effort we put in to stop all that from going down wasn’t that important, that what you mouthin off over?” Melvin barks. “Please. As if that’s what I mean’t. All of the components around me were what made my vision possible...Though I doubt any of you would come up with anything half as brilliant.” Its in this last comment that the shots had been fired and horses take off, both of them going off on each other like set off C4 explosives of screaming complaints and insults; Roy shaking his head as he peers away from the two and out towards his blue brother.

Midst watching her friends talk to themselves over what all they went through, Mally see’s her purple brother venturing over to Tore’s side; the orange girl parting from her friends to join Roy in checking on him. The two witness find their blue brother kneeling down onto the golden floor, noticing a strange light emanating from the blue boy’s front. “Tore, you okay there?” his violet sibling worries. “...I’m fine.” he answers with clear melancholy, keeps his eyes to the light underneath. Peeking out from behind him do both Roy and Mally find their blue brother staring down upon a glint of light that hover’s above the palms of his hands; the sparkling glow glimmering like the very cosmo’s. “Is that who we think it is?” Mally questions. “All that’s left of him. And all that might ever be.” the indigo angel answers, rising upon his own two feet.

Continuing to gaze down to the cosmic glow left within his hands, Tore walks out towards the wayside of the golden spire; friends and family alike gazing to him as he walks towards the very edge. “Tore.” Along his very back do the boy’s wings of white protrude outwards, the indigo angel finally leaping off the very edge of the spire; all of them venturing to the edge to watch as the boy hovers down towards the sea of clouds below. “He might have to think some things through, Mal. Think we should just give him some time to himself.” his purple brother suggests.

His saddening gaze is kept upon the reminisce of his former master that now rests upon his gentle palm, Tore continues to hover down to the fluff below with the golden spire at his back; the light of Mall’s remains shinning as they passing down through the clouds. The light of the morning sun continues to arise from the cloud horizon as he slowly descends downward; its twilight glow reflecting off the edge of the shinning golden spire. Alas can its light not overshadow the bit of the cosmo’s that rests within the angel’s hand; its glow reflecting within Tore’s own eyes. Finally does he descend down through the sea of clouds, the cosmic glow in his hands shinning past the numerous clouds before he passes down through the bottom. A flock of countless tropical birds rises right past the blue boy; Tore keeping his eyes glued to the glint of his former mentor as tears start to drizzle out down towards tropical jungle down below.

Among his lamenting descent does Tore gently land down onto the jungle floor along the base of the spire, the grass beneath his feet parting as he touches down on the earth. Tore parts his palms out from beneath what remained of his once beloved mentor, letting the last bits of the cosmic angel flutter down towards the ground and disappearing into the earth. A small snivel escapes as the indigo angel wipes away the tears that flow down from his very cheeks; the blue boy gaze out to the vast jungle set before him to behold the flora and fauna alike that bask in the welcome morning sun together. It’s a new day. A fresh start. Everyone wakes up to the lives they walk. I just wished you could’ve shared in it all with me...Thanks Mall, for showing me how much its all worth. A small breath leaves his lunges before he begin to walk away from the golden Kybr spire set behind him; his wings glistening with bits of colorful glitter trailing behind as he walks forth into the unknown beyond. Along the ground he left behind does a lone plant start to sprout out from the earth; the small stalk of a flower who’s petals show the depths of the cosmos.

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Words cannot simply describe how long I've been waiting to write this whole arc out. From its strange beginning all the way up to its dynamic and bittersweet conclusion. I've seriously been planning to make something like this along the lines of 2 years, but knew I had to simply pace myself and wait for the moment to do so. That arc of one of the main characters finding a rolemodol, but having them be someone that they would have to stop in the end. To those of you that have actually stuck around this long, thank you. Thank you for taking the time to read the sort of stuff that comes out from my brain. Writing this redo these past couple years have shown me ways to improve my writing techniques for the future, and I have a bunch of amazing characters created by so many others to thank for it. Thank you for letting me mold these stories.

#lillaxtrigger #Young Hope #next generation

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you-li-ya · 4 years ago

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Happily Ever After

Pairing: BTS member x reader

Word count: 1431

Warnings: character death, murder, suicide

Summary: Writing has always been difficult for you. You loved to fantasize about stories, stories about dragons and fairies, magic and friendship and romance. For you, nothing could beat a good love story.

However, as much as you wished to write about all your dreams and wishes, you could never find the right words for it.

In which perspective should you write it?

How should you begin your story?

And how should it end? A happy ending? A tragedy?

You never really knew, but luckily, you had him. He helped you to organize your daydreams, gave you inspiration for an introduction and encouraged you to finish your stories. His love for your ideas, all the tales you tell, always animated you to keep going, to see his glowing eyes and growing smile, while reading your books.

He was your biggest motivation and no opinion was more important than his.

He couldn’t stand reading, never did. For him, it was the most boring activity one could do. He never understood how one could like it, calling it addicting. That was, until he read your stories. He saw the world with your eyes, felt fabrics with your hands. He learned to love reading books, reading your books. They were the biggest treasure in the world, right next to you. And in his opinion no one, except for him, was worthy enough to read your books. And nobody but him would recognize the value of you.

next part

Books. Everywhere were books. Stacked on the table, piled next to the bed. But they weren’t just any books. No, every single volume, every page, was written by you. He could open any of those, in his eyes, treasures and immerse into a new world, another universe, a paradise. Your fantasy, your whole mind was completely innocent, free of any filth. And your whole being was just as innocent as your mind. Once he saw you up close at a fan meeting. If he hadn’t known beforehand, he would have thought he was standing in front of an angel. You radiated such purity that he was afraid to stain you, when your fingertips touched while you took his copy of your newly written book. You gave him a smile, showing so much love in your eyes, he had to hold himself back to not whisk you away. Far away from all of the others preying eyes, who just waited to taint you, to let you wither like a beautiful flower in a field of weed. He could not allow that. No it was his mission, the purpose of his whole life, to protect you. He would be your knight in shining armor.

Covers. He loved the hardcovers the most. The printed picture of you on these had the best quality. It was easier for him to copy your face from them, print posters for his wall and small photos for his wallet, so he could always look at you.

He remembered the first time he saw your face. It was on the back of the book, you flashed a big grin for the camera, showed how excited you were to publish your first novel. Your name was printed right under your picture, so perfect sounding and melodic that he couldn’t stop himself from saying it out loud.

But right under your image was his. In your very first book and in every other one as well.

Kim Namjoon. Your editor and the very first person in every of your acknowledgments.

He loathed to see this person soil your beautiful book covers and execrated him every time he read your thanks to Kim Namjoon. Him, being your biggest support, your help in dark times? Nonsense, he was your biggest fan, he read no other book than yours. Wrote you letters, was the first to inform you what a masterpiece you created. So why wasn’t he mentioned but this excuse of a man? He truly hated Kim Namjoon.

Pages. He always imagined you would smell like the pages of an old book. You mentioned once in an interview that you loved to collect antique novels. All of your book recommendations were on your personal blog. He read every single on of them and immediately purchased the next one if you updated your list, but he could never really find the reason why you liked those books. They were boring, completely ordinary and it made him feel sick, thinking how you would believe those are better authors than you. He just hoped you wouldn’t let yourself be influenced.

He loved you for your originality. If someone was to wear the same outfit as you or to have the same hairstyle, it would always be the other person who copied you, be it a normal person or a celebrity. Everything you did was better, and while he normally hated changes, he trusted you to make the right choices, be it on your body or in your books. The only thing he could never forgive was you talking down on yourself. He would never lean back and watch how someone, not even yourself, would dim your light. He would protect you, but how?

Words. Every word that passed you lips was like a spell that enchanted him. From your soft voice in the interview videos, the emotional whisper in your public readings to the happy laugh when you announced your engagement. The man next to you, Kim Namjoon, moved his arm around your waist when the desktop of his computer went black. He saw his reflection in the cracked monitor, the mouse he previously still held in his hand, laying behind the broken screen. Did he threw it? He didn’t notice it, still to enraged about your future plans to care for the damage in front of him.

You, engaged to him? Don’t make him laugh. You were destined to be with him and not with your editor. He had already planned everything, from your wedding theme to where you would live after your honeymoon. And you, you just destroyed everything. Yes, it was your fault that he destroyed his monitor, that he began to loose his mind. You should take responsibility for your actions.

He was out of his apartment and on the street, on his way to you when a different thought crossed his mind. What if it wasn’t your decision? What if it was this man, if he was responsible for all of this? Did he blackmail you, force you to marry him? It had to be like this, you would never deceive him without a reason.

He quickened his pace, you must be scared to death, completely alone with this monster. You were so helpless without his protection, it was almost cute.

Finished. Your book was finally finished. You told him, he inspired you to write it, the male protagonist was his role. He was thrilled hearing that. All those months he had kept you in his apartment were paying off. He was distraught when you refused to talk to him, completely ignored him. The only time you broke your silence was to yell at him or to cry. He hated seeing your tears, he never really knew what to say, none of his words helped you feel better. But one day he finally found the reason for all your sadness.

His clothes were soaked in blood when he came home later then usual. His feet carried him into your room, wanting to show you his gift for you. He saw tears well up when he showed you his surprise, but after this night you never cried again. He was more than happy that he finally eliminated the cause of all of your sorrow. To celebrate this, he hanged your present over the door to the kitchen, to always remind you, there was no reason to cry anymore. He never noticed how you refused to enter the kitchen since then or how your eyes were always down casted when you left your room, just to avoid the sight of Namjoon’s head over the door frame.

To be continued. Were the last words on your manuscript. His fingers caressed the letters, before he closed the book. A prince, you wrote him as a crown prince. But, why did he hurt you so much in the story? It wasn’t like you to write such cruel books. You normally would create your own world, so why did you pick the Joseon era? What triggered your change? His feet carried him into your room, wanting to confront you about your abnormal behavior.

You laid in your bed, blood dripping down your arm, your breath shallow. Your eyelids flattered open when his shadow fell upon you. You gave him a weak smile, to tired to show or even feel your hatred towards him. He didn’t understand, why were you hurt? Pieces of the mirror laid next to your bed, splattered with your blood, both of your wrists cut open.

He knelt in front of you and held your hands, which were getting colder and colder. You wouldn’t die, you wouldn’t leave him alone. Now that you no longer hate him, both of you could start a new life, explore the world and create your own love stories. Your last breaths came only slowly, you struggled with every gasp. Your eyes opened a last time and to find his.

“I… I am so tired about- About everything that’s happening… Why… Won’t you leave me alone… For the last few minutes… H… Hoseok?”, your eyes squeezed shut when you took an especially straining breath.

The corners of his mouth curved upwards. It was the first time you called him by his name, not just some cuss or insult. Now, you truly loved him.

He kissed your forehead, covered you with your blanket and turned the lights off, before exiting your room. The slumber you fell into afterwards was for eternity, but this was okay, because he was always there to care for you. He would never leave you alone.

And here is my first fanfiction and the start of my first series as well. M biggest thanks go to Google Translator and any other translating website, I feel like this fanfic sucked all of my English skills out of me. Thank you for reading and happy birthday to our Hope.

#bts #bts kim namjoon #bts rm #kim namjoon #jung hoseok #bts jung hoseok #jhope fanfic #j-hope #bts jhope #bts j-hope #bts fanfic #bts series #bts yandere #bts yandere au #bts x reader

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enby-hawke · 4 years ago

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Summary: Leandra decides to visit her nephew Isaac in the Circle now that she's been cleared to see him, and maybe sneak away to see Malcolm if she can help it. She gets a lot more than she bargained for.

Notes:Tw for elf slur, misogynistic slurs and language, parent nastiness and fantasy capitalism Please let me know if I'm going to heavy with it.

Wordcount: 11127 lol sorry

“A binding contract?” Scholar twisted its neck as it gobbled up the rest of a canape it held in its claw-like hands. “I thought I told you I was not interested in fighting.”

“You won’t be fighting. I need your magic to help me heal, instead,” Malcolm’s legs dangled off the hard frame of his bed, staring the spirit down. It wasn’t Malcolm’s idea. He thought he was a pretty decent healer in his own right, but he found that calling upon random energies of the Fade was draining his reserves of mana much faster than his new classmates and he was constantly casting rejuvenation spells to keep up with the demand at the healer’s clinic which left his mind like a fried circuit by the time his duties ended.

Malcolm was not used to using magic for such long periods of time, and though he was still able to knit wounds together, and ease panic attacks, relying on his own strength was quickly depleting him.

It was a conundrum. Before Malcolm could be fully recognized as a Spirit Healer, he’d need well, a spirit, but most spirits still fled in sight of him, and though that was his preference, if he couldn’t find a spirit that would agree he wouldn’t be able to heal serious injuries without diving into his own life force, not something he wanted to make a practice of.

Scholar paused mid-bite, and the way his sharp teeth twisted made him look like they were frowning. “Healing is beneath me. You should ask a spirit of Faith or Compassion.”

“Are you saying you can’t?” Malcolm said in a taunting tone.

“I can,” the spirit poked at him with the canape. “My memories may be fragmented but I know I once had power greater than yours. You fumble with your magic, flinging spells with no understanding of how they are powered, but in another time I had the knowledge to shape the heavens, to unite the land and sky. You are but a fragment.”

“But aren’t you, too?” Malcolm grinned. “All washed up and scavenging for memories of tastes like a starved vulture?”

It looked like steam was coming out of the spirit’s ears, and Malcolm knew he had hit a nerve. The truth was Malcolm didn’t want to get to know any more spirits than he had already met. Scholar at least seemed uninterested in possessing his mind, even if he was very keen to poke around in it. An old annoyance was better than getting used to something new.

“Such a mouth on you,” the spirit gobbled up the canape angrily and grabbed another. “I told you I would aid you in knowledge of Zelophehad and you agreed to get me a tongue and you haven’t even done that.” The spirit shook the next canape from the platter he held. “I am not interested in being bound to one’s soul. I am a Scholar of the Fade. I seek knowledge, conduct research and experiments and impart wisdom but I do not want to be at someone’s beck and call, especially to a somniari idiotic enough to anger Zelophehad. Do not ask again.”

Malcolm pouted, “but I’m a somniari. Didn’t you say you haven’t found one in ages?”

The Scholar laughed. “I am not as impatient as you, young one. You answered one question, and you may answer a few more, but you will die soon. What happens when Zelophehad possesses you? I do not know but it might make an interesting change.”

Malcolm grumbled. He didn’t expect Scholar to say no or that he'd be so callous. “Well forget about the taste deal, then. I’ll find Zelophewad on my own.”

Scholar gasped, dropping his tray, the rest of the canapes floating down and sticking in the air as the platter clattered to the ground. “You’re going back on our deal?”

“You didn’t sign anything, so technically no deal,” Malcolm shrugged.

The spirit quivered in anger. “Mortals. You’re as deceitful as demons.” The spirit crossed its arm, it’s torso swirling at its midsection, where his body was cut off at the legs.

Malcolm glared. “You don’t understand. I have to pull my grades up and kill a demon at the same time. I don’t have a lot of options.”

“Well coercing me is not going to get you anywhere,” the spirit huffed. “I am not suited, but I know those that are. I may introduce you to them but only if you keep your promise.”

Malcolm sighed. “I guess I can work with that.”

“But I need a tongue. You promised that, too,” the spirit pointed.

“That I can’t help with. It’s not like I can get away with cutting off someone’s tongue. Also that’ll get me accused of blood magic in two seconds.”

“Then how will I understand taste?” the spirit whined.

“There are other ways,” Malcolm said. “I’ll lend you my memories,” but he put up a finger, “but first, lead me to a spirit who will help.”

Scholar looked hesitant. “I have a friend of Compassion who may agree.” The Scholar stooped over, the platter floating up as he plucked the canape’s from the air. “But I must fetch her. Your aura repels Compassion spirits.” He focused his hollowing gaze on Malcolm. “You have to ask her, not demand, and if she says no, you must respect that, and ask someone else.”

Malcolm rubbed the back of his neck feeling ragged and annoyed. “Fine, fine, just introduce me.”

Scholar snapped his fingers. “She’s very sensitive so keep those foul emotions in your head.”

Malcolm felt more irritated, but at the spike of emotion the spirit snapped again.

“No! No! The opposite of that. Think of something different, like when you’re tasting that girl’s lips.”

Malcolm’s face burned in embarrassment, wondering how many spirits were peeping into those private thoughts. He spent a lot of his idle time thinking of that night with Leandra, but he guarded that memory, not wanting the spirits to sully it.

Scholar sighed. “That is better, I guess.” Then Scholar blinked away.

Malcolm leaned into the brick wall of his bedroom. His sanctum looked a little different. For one, there was homework from his previous classes that he was catching up on, though the pile he had to go through seemed impossibly larger each day. He found the stress easier when he could text Leandra in between questions. They were slowly getting to know each other, often chatting until long after midnight. When the Fade interference allowed it, they snuck in a video call, and Malcolm had to say he was grateful he could at least see her face at least once a day.

All contact remained tame and almost chivalrous. Malcolm told himself he was being a gentleman, not a coward. Still, he couldn’t deny that he did want to know all about the woman whose dream he stumbled into. She was smart for one, and though she seemed to take herself rather seriously, she did have a sharp sense of humor and he did love making her laugh.

Malcolm also learned Leandra was not only valedictorian with honors but she happened to also be an award winning lutist, just one of the half dozen instruments she played. She was currently first chair at Sacred Heart’s Symphonique Orchestra at Kirkwall’s Opera House. Real fancy stuff. What she saw in a flunky like him, he didn’t know, but the more he learned about her the more he was in awe of how incredible she was. And he made a promise to himself to do everything in his power to deserve her.

He had a frame of the picture Leandra took on his dresser, though in his real bedroom that could never happen. It was something he added to his Sanctum the night after the Cleansing after Leandra claimed him as a House Mage.

There was nothing official yet, but Enchanter Jakoby was already preparing him for the role, teaching him the common spells requested, as well as assigning him more reading about demons and curses. Malcolm had to admit he was a little worried about who would win the bid. The thought of being in Lady De Lancet’s clutches put a pit in his gut, but on the other side of that coin was a chance to be by Leandra’s side. He couldn’t fail.

He needed a spirit that would help him and trudging around the Fadescape had turned up nothing and so Scholar seemed the logical choice, but even he refused Malcolm.

He didn’t know who else to turn to.

Scholar blinked back with a shimmery figure of a woman made of white light. She had long hair kept in a braid and heavy robes that hid her figure but her gaze was piercing as she glared at Malcolm.

“Murderer,” she spat.

Malcolm was taken aback. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from a spirit of Compassion but hard anger was not it. She had a fierce snarl and Malcolm wondered if she would attack but she kept her balled fists at her sides, shaking.

“Warping, wailing, withering. Why? I hear my friends’ last moments on your blood-soaked hands. You reek of death and destruction, you want to face the embodiment of fear with that darkness in your heart? You will only be swallowed by him. What point is there in helping you?”

Malcolm wasn’t sure what to say, but he remembered Scholar’s warning to stay calm, even though everything screamed at him that he was in danger.

The Compassion spirit flinched.

“I’ve only killed demons,” Malcolm said, “If your friends turned that’s not my fault.”

Her eyes flashed out flames. “You do not even see your hand in this? Part of me wishes to warp just to avenge them, but Zelophehad will consume you and perhaps that will be justice.”

Malcolm gaped at Scholar who was just busy finishing off his canapes. “Are you really a spirit of Compassion? How many will that monster kill mercilessly if no one stops him?”

“You have provoked him most of all. They will all die because of you. Stalking in the mists, slinking in the shadows. Zelophehad is patient and is waiting. You have put us all in danger by rousing him.”

Malcolm gaped at this news, feeling the raw fury emanating from her walls soften just a bit as she looked at him with what looked like pity.

“You are raw with pain and I see that Zelophehad has been mapping your wounds. I see his marks on you. If you were smart you would fortify these walls and never leave.”

Malcolm felt himself whirling. This wasn’t his fault, this was the demon’s and he wouldn’t accept her blame or her pity advice.

“Great,” Malcolm said sarcastically. “But I think I’ll stick with the ‘kill the demon’ plan.”

“Mortals. You can find no other path. Your blood sings of war,” Compassion spat, and took a step forward a flower blooming before her bare foot. “Life is precious. Even Zelophehad has his place in this world. Fear, as ugly as it is, is sometimes necessary.” Then the flower decayed and fell to the ground disappearing in a sliver of light.

That sounded like bullshit. “A world without fear sounds actually nice. Might be more peaceful.”

Compassion shook her head. “A man must fear fire or be careless and get burned. Fear teaches. Fear makes one wise.”

“Really?” Malcolm drawled finding the irritation crawling up his spine like a spider. The rant that had been building in him started spilling out like a rushing waterfall that he couldn’t reign in. “Because I think fear makes men stupid. I’m locked away from the whole world and if anyone finds out what I am they’ll tranquilize me, because they fear what I’m capable of. Humans lock away elves in alienages because they fear the retribution they deserve for how they treat us. Then mages are locked away even though there’s so much good we could be doing with our powers. Fear divides us, makes us enemies when we could be allies.”

“Then why did you kill my friends in fear?”

It was then Malcolm noticed that Compassion was trembling, crystals forming on her skin and icing over her balled fists. He then remembered to reign in his anger and she seemed to breathe easier, but her skin was glittering in crystal tears. “You killed Prudence, Patience, Benevolence, Temperance. Even Fortitude. So many fell because of your fear. This land was filled with life and now it lies barren and only their wisps remain thanks to you. To us you are as great a calamity as Zelophehad.”

The words echoed inside Malcolm, feeling like a rock rattling in his head. Malcolm often felt like a monster, the Chantry made sure of that. But in this moment, he felt like he really fit the word. Chantry rhetoric said spirits weren’t people, but now they had friends? Until recently, Malcolm believed the Chantry rhetoric that spirits and demons were just mindless dangerous beasts. Sure they had personality, but their minds always seemed so simple and foreign, their needs one-sided and bizarre. And slaughtering them would keep his Circle brethren safe from possession.

But he acted in fear so often were the demons actually demons? Was he a murderer like Compassion claimed? He thought he was protecting himself, but her accusations made him stop and retrace his actions in new thought.

The way Compassion was trembling looked like she was expecting him to strike out at any moment but she held her head high and defiant, her azure eyes burning brilliantly straight into him. Her pain was radiating from her like an open seeping wound, still fresh as if he had just stabbed her in the chest.

Malcolm didn’t know how to fix this.

He looked at his hands and found they were also trembling, as the choking guilt closed up his throat. He didn’t know the lives he took would be missed. Didn’t know that tears would fall because of him.

“I’m sorry…” Malcolm knew it was not enough. “I…didn’t know.” It was a lame excuse and he knew it, but he didn’t have the words.

Still, Compassion could feel the new hollowness in his gut at the news and she absorbed it looking more at peace.

Compassion closed her eyes, a crystal droplet falling from her chin. “Are you sorry enough to make amends or is that another hollow mortal word?”

Malcolm felt uneasy, not sure what she would say, but he felt shitty enough that he asked, “How?”

Compassion put a hand over her heart. “You seem intent to stop Zelophehad even at risk of death. I, too, have that common goal, but I offer another path.” Her robes started to billow slightly. “Zelophehad will thrive if you start a war against him. You must offer him peace.”

“Peace?” Malcolm snorted. “With the demon that wants to ride my head and destroy reality?”

Compassion glared, continuing. “I offer a Bond with you on three conditions.”

Malcolm perked up. That’s what he was after in the first place so he shut up to listen.

“First, you will release me when Zelophehad has been put to rest. I do not wish to be on your tether forever.”

Malcolm didn’t plan on staying a Spirit Healer forever either, so that suited him just fine. “Sure, what’s number two?”

“You must listen to whatever I say when Zelophehad strikes,” Compassion said strictly.

That was debatable, but Malcolm said, “As long as you’re making sense, sure. What’s three?”

She looked at Scholar who was busy gnawing at the bone of his ham hock. “Scholar, you must teach him, because I for one cannot stand to be around the somniari’s aura.”

Scholar dropped his shoulders. “Well, I guess we are doing the taste studies together.”

“Precisely,” Compassion nodded. “Which means it won’t be a hassle. Only call upon me when you need me.” Then Compassion blinked away without even saying goodbye.

Malcolm glared at Scholar. He really thought it was a good idea to put the two of them together? “That’s your idea of help?”

“You’re lucky she said yes,” Scholar gestured with his bone. “Everyone else said no.” Then he swallowed the bone, choking it down like a snake ingesting a mouse.

That was just his luck wasn’t it? But mission succeeded. Malcolm could tell Enchanter Jakoby he was successfully a Spirit Healer. Or at least on the way to becoming one.

It was the first Mass since Mara and Gamlen had been announced a couple, and though Leandra hoped church would be a uniting place for the family it was announced at dinner the night before that Gamlen nor Mara would be welcome to accompany them. Leandra tried to argue that this was too harsh, but her parents doubled down, insisting that Gamlen had a choice to make about what was really important to him. Gamlen said he was happy to sleep in and Mara said it would be nice to get the day off. Their shunning didn’t seem to phase either of them, which only infuriated her parents more which meant they zeroed in on Leandra more than ever, acting as if she was an idiot for defending them.

“You can’t possibly think this little fling your brother has is a good idea,” her mother was adjusting her lipstick in her compact, the foundation a few shades lighter than her own skin tone which she also applied to her hands neck and arms like a mask.

“They’ve actually been dating for two years,” Leandra said impatiently, keeping her eyes to the car window. She wouldn’t give them more fuel by saying they were currently tense. She didn’t need to give her parents more ammunition. It already felt too stifling to be trapped in the car with just her parents. Every interaction seemed to be an argument now, and she was getting tired.

Her father shook his head, his glasses reflecting against the morning sunbeams. “It’s one thing to dally. It’s another thing to make a claim. She’s a gold digger. All he needs to do is knock her up and where will our money go?”

“Mara’s not a gold digger,” Leandra snapped. “How archaic can you be?” Then she pointed with a perfectly painted nail. “She’s no one’s dalliance or property. If Gamlen and Mara get pregnant you’ll have a grandchild, another heir. That’s a blessing from the Maker and you’re twisting it into something ugly!”

Both of their parents shared a heavy sigh looking at the other, communicating their frustrations in their own silent language.

“You’re so naive, little girl,” her mother sniffed delicately. “You see a friend. But you’re just an easy paycheck. If you had no money to your name I assure you that slut would drop you and find another hog to suckle.”

Leandra’s face reddened and she bit her tongue, withholding a scream. “Senhel!” she said sharply. “Stop the car!”

They were still a stop from the Chantry but Senhel dutifully pulled out of traffic with a sharp right and pulled into a bus zone. Leandra hopped out of the car practically kicking the door away and started walking on the sidewalk, her heels clicking as she marched to the Chantry.

“Where are you going?” Her father’s voice boomed as he rolled down the window. “This conversation is not over.”

“Yes, it is, because it’s inappropriate talk for the Maker’s day,” Leandra sniped back. “And if we continue talking I’m going to say some words that Maker might not forgive me for.” She held her head high, not bothering to look at her parents as the car strolled lazily along the road to follow her.

They caught her at a stoplight where she was forced to wait at a crosswalk. Her father pushed the door open. “Leandra, stop making a scene and get in the car.”

“Who’s making a scene?” Leandra glared. “Get your priorities straight. Family is more important than reputation or money.”

Her father’s face burned as people dressed up in their Sunday best looked at the Amell’s stretch and Leandra who was busy trying to pretend that everyone wasn’t staring. Still, Leandra wouldn’t put her head in the sand. The light turned green and she went across the sidewalk, but rather than the car jetting across the street like the stretch should, it followed Leandra like an obedient dog, slowing up Mass traffic.

“Leandra, get in the car,” her mother said impatiently.

“I’m enjoying my walk,” Leandra smiled brightly, and truly the sunbeams felt rather warm on her face, so different from the biting breeze.

“Now, you’re being ridiculous,” her mother growled. “We’re going to get a traffic violation. Get in.”

“Who’s we?” Leandra quipped. “I’m a pedestrian right now.”

Soon the vehicle was trapped with the shuffle of cars choking out the way for the Chantry parking lot and giving Leandra the distance she needed. She quickened her pace, walking the rest of the block and turned into a grand staircase that carved into the hill, the grand emblazoned stained glass sun glittering in the light of the towers above. She usually found Mass a time to contemplate, reflect, but she was rather impatient to get it over with so she could see Isaac.

Carver had contacted her letting her know the paperwork was rushed through and now that Aunt Revka was in Markham visiting Robert it would be a nice surprise for Isaac. She clutched her purse, rustling with her secret goodies, wondering if the templars would find and confiscate them, but she would just bring more if that was the case.

She thought her day couldn’t get any worse when at the top of the stairs she saw Guillaume and his parents deep in conversation with the Chantry sisters between the grand arch of the bronze templar statues. She tried to sneak past them but Guillaume instantly spotted her and waved, “Mon amie!”

Leandra straightened up with a smile, reluctantly approaching Guillaume and his family. “Guillaume, good morning. I didn’t see you.”

They kissed each other on the cheeks, his lips lingering a tad too long, as he folded his hands into hers. Leandra let her hand go limp in his, not able to let go but not able to reciprocate the warmth either.

Lady De Lancet eyed her head to toe in an approving manner, her hands stretched out in greeting as she placed a fond kiss on Leandra’s cheek. “Ah, my dear girl, it’s so good to see you. Don’t tell me you wore that fetching ensemble for me.”

Leandra in fact did, even as that twisted her insides. She had been trying to courteously convince Lady De Lancet to drop the bid on Malcolm and had spent the better part of the week in soirees and luncheons bargaining for his life like it was a game. Maybe to Lady De Lancet it was a game, one she found very amusing, but for Leandra it was a match she couldn’t afford to lose.

Leandra curtsied politely in greeting allowing the lady to inspect her outfit, lilac colored, in honor of the De Lancet’s house, with a rather daring cut that skimmed the edges of modesty with how the thin fabric clung to her curves.

Lady De Lancet touched the fabric of Leandra’s arm fondly. “These sleeves are darling.”

They also had giant holes that let in the chill. She was thankful that the winters in Kirkwall were rather mild because Orlesian fashion didn’t account for cold. “You were right about that Boutique on Oak Avenue. They do have great dresses.”

“We should go together and pick up some more,” Lady De Lancet offered.

Leandra bit her tongue, not wanting to freely admit that she didn’t have the budget anymore to go splurging on vogue dresses, but before she could find a tactful way to turn her down, Guillaume said,

“Of course, it will be my treat.”

A thoughtful offer but Leandra still had to force the smile on her lips. The idea of spending more time with Guillaume or his mother was not what she had in mind. Still, she said, “that sounds lovely,” and allowed Guillaume to kiss her chastely on the cheek.

“You two are adorable,” an older sister with dusty spectacles said with a smile in her voice.

“Not too much longer until we chime that bell for you,” the younger initiate smiled.

Lord De Lancet patted Guillaume’s shoulder. “They’re all grown up now.”

“Yes,” Lady De Lancet looked like she was tearing up. “And they’re going to give me beautiful grandchildren.”

The panic coiled inside Leandra. Everything was so perfect with Malcolm and yet did any of it matter? Her whole life was structured around Guillaume. Trying to tear it apart seemed like breaking her foundation. Suddenly she was picturing tea parties with nug children all over again.

The conversation carried on without Leandra. Lady De Lancet soon was bragging to the sisters about all the changes that they were planning to make to the wedding to give it an Orlesian touch, Leandra just nodding along to confirm the details. That was part of the deal for backing out of the bid, something Leandra wasn’t sure Lady De Lancet would keep to, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep her in good humor.

Apparently Lady De Lancet was losing interest in the wedding because she felt like her culture wasn’t being represented enough and so she dangled Malcolm over Leandra, bargaining for more say of how it all should look like or maybe just to see what she could get Leandra to do. First, she just had a problem with the color scheme. Red was “too angry” and turquoise would match winter. Then they were updating the bridesmaids dresses to be from Princess Evangeline’s new fashion line. Then that led into them talking about Leandra’s dress.

Leandra had originally told Lady De Lancet that unfortunately her gown had been finalized but it didn’t stop the lady from telling the sisters in rapt glee, “We’re going to bring that old thing into the modern age, cut a little off, give it a new look,” Lady De Lancet made a snipping motion for emphasis.

Leandra’s eyes widened. Did she hear right?

“You’re going to WHAT?” Leandra’s mother stood on the steps cutting off Lady De Lancet’s conversation short.

Leandra’s shoulders tightened. Now her day couldn’t be worse.

Lady De Lancet and Leandra’s mothers met each other’s eyes like they were in a match. Her mother stepped up the steps leaving her husband behind as she picked up the hem of her modest cream dress, her complimenting cardigan as sharp as her power suits. “That dress was my mother’s and her mother’s before me down to the founding of my line. It is a priceless antique with a rich history of powerful women who wore it. You are not going to touch one thread.”

Lady De Lancet looked smugly at her mother, knowing she had her claws in deep. “Leandra has agreed that if I’m going to accept the loss of the protection of such a pristine mage from such a nasty family curse, I should get some perks, no?”

Leandra was about to say she did no such thing, but her mother beat her to it, saying, “We don’t need that knife-ear’s foul magic. We have the Maker’s protection!”

Leandra’s mouth gaped and the air sucked out of her. This was the first time she had ever heard that word come out of her mother’s mouth. With Gamlen and now her mother, it was like an ugly wake up call about the deep prejudice inbred into her family that she had been be blind to. Or maybe as she looked back on how they reacted with Mara, perhaps she chose to be blind to it.

The whole room shifted uncomfortably as if something foul was in the air. Each looked to the other unsure of what to say.

Then Leandra recovered herself when Guillaume covered his reddening face with his hand, looking uncomfortable and said, “Bethann, please. We’re in the Maker’s house.”

Her mother lifted her chin indignantly. “As if the heathens even pray to the Maker.”

“You know what,” Leandra smiled all teeth as she decided it was time to change the subject. She turned her attention, batting her eyes at Lady De Lancet, “I think it would be lovely to update the dress a little. Lady De Lancet, did you have thoughts on the design?”

“Oh, so many,” Lady De Lancet clapped her hands. “Merveilleux! I’ll send the number of my seamstress. We have binders for you to look at.”

“Amelia, absolutely not,” Leandra’s mother’s face went rigid in fury, more furious than when Gamlen had crashed his new car in a DUI and yet Leandra was still more angry over the word she had called Malcolm.

Ugly wretched shame sank Leandra’s gut into a pit. She didn’t know how to process the deep hate rooted within her family’s heart. She wasn’t sure how to get them to see Malcolm like she did. She questioned at this point if they were capable of it. Her mind started tracing over every cruel comment, every power trip, every backhanded compliment. There was all this posturing of appearances of perfection. If there was any curse on her family is that they had forgotten how to love and care for people. Her parents paid good lip service, donated their money to charities that they then wrote off in taxes, but it was all a pretty play. They had all forgotten warmth. Love even.

At the end of the day, she didn’t care about a stupid old dress or the color scheme or any of the damned details of the wedding. None of that seemed important ever since Malcolm came into her life.

Leandra had never been so disappointed in her mother or anyone. So when Lady De Lancet said,

“Bethann, relax. This is Leandra’s wedding. It should be her decision.”

It seemed natural to respond with, “That’s right. It is my decision, and I think I’m going to be open to possibilities today,” Leandra smiled, turning it to her mother and father who were both taken aback by this new tactic. “And I hope you will be more open minded in the future.”

“Leandra, how dare you-”

And then Leandra did something she never did before. She shushed her mother as if she was hushing a child having a tantrum. “This is the Maker’s House. Let’s not focus on our petty disagreements but on His Grace and Wisdom.”

“Wisely said, child,” the dusty spectacled sister adjusted her glasses with a thin smile.

Leandra smiled as her mother turned to her father in embarrassment but he seemed just as baffled. “Shall we go in?” he offered his arm to his wife, not seeming to want to take up the argument with Leandra.

Lady Amell chewed on her lip and took her husband’s arm.

“Always good to see you, Aristride,” Lord De Lancet nodded to her father cheerily.

Her father made a tight-lipped nod at the man as they passed, but that was all he mustered in greeting.

The service passed by, the time stretching on, and every second was uncomfortable. Leandra sat between Guillaume and her mother, singing the Chant, and she felt the words ring hollow in her throat.

And yet she couldn’t help but think of Mara’s words.

Yes, the Maker had sent Malcolm on her path, but she was not being honest. With her parents. With Guillaume. Maybe not even herself. She was a cheater now and Leandra never thought she'd be that. Yes, she was bound by a vow she made as a child to marry Guillaume, and yet she couldn't find it in her to resist Malcolm’s pull. She felt like the Maker had crafted his hand to fit in hers.

Or did she just want the Maker to have sent him? Was he actually the temptation she was supposed to resist? It seemed like fitting him into her life was an impossible dream. His kisses were like heaven but they left her with desires that were all too sinful. So sinful that they kept her awake and aching long into the night.

“It was Andraste’s purity that was what

Drove the Maker’s Eye

Her devotion to her husband

And to Her Duties and to her Faith

She Drew His Grace into the World

Only for Sin of Man to Drive Him back.

When all of Man is pure will we see His Return.”

All Leandra’s life she had taken that verse to heart, but that didn’t stop her mind from wandering. Didn’t stop her from remembering the feel of his tongue on hers and how it stoked a fire in her that still burned. Last night, she dreamed that she was back on the balcony of the Viscount’s Palace. Malcolm fell on top of her again and she felt his hardness form on her thigh. That hardness that sparked that aching need deep inside her. Instead of being a gentleman, he gave her that wolfish smile and stripped her like a present, his hands like electricity on her skin, careless with her wrappings until she was bare in the moonlight. His gaze left her hollow and ready to be filled by him. His lips ghosted over her mouth, his breath tickling her skin until his mouth trailed lower and lower, until he had her spread wide, his head between her legs. Those honey eyes met hers as that half-smirk lowered his mouth.

But the dream ended. She didn’t know what that felt like, where that would lead. And would it be salvation or ruin?

Her face burned as she sang, sweating under her dress even in the chill of the chapel. As she sang she found herself asking the Maker for guidance. She knew what her heart said, and yet she wasn’t sure what the right path was. Coming clean to her parents sounded so frightening. Would they threaten to disown her like Gamlen?

She wondered if loving Malcolm would mean giving up everything, and she was selfish. She wanted her parents to watch her children grow up, to be able to baptize them in this Chantry, to have family dinners and holidays. Plan month long vacations in Antiva and Rivain where they would learn about different cultures and try different cuisines and learn about the world like she did. Was it too much to ask for it all? She made the wish in her heart, even as she held the hand of the wrong man. She prayed for a way they’d all find happiness, even in the face of the odds.

Grand Enchanter Elthina stood under the Everlasting Fire, her silhouette giving the impression she was being burned like Andraste. She had her blonde hair in a braided bun, looking much like the statues of Andraste behind her. “My children, a great evil has visited us recently. It is truly a Blessing of the Maker that we all have been delivered unscathed.”

A chorus of voices called out in “By the Maker’s Will,” the relief palpable in the room.

“The Knight-Commander assures me that all is under control. Still, the Veil has grown more restless, and so we must do our part to help. All of us must confess the evils in our hearts before they become sins. Out of sin, demons rise. It is our own hubris we must save ourselves from. I invite you all to join me on a fast and pray with me for contrition. May He spare us from more evil by seeing the pureness of our own hearts.”

And there Leandra felt trapped. Lying was a sin, and yet the truth would unravel everything. Still, she wondered how long she could keep up the act around Guillaume, with every detail of the wedding reminding her that she would soon be tied to him on a timeline that was soon running out.

She knew she would make the vow with the Grand Cleric, even as she knew she would not let Malcolm go.

The closing hymns echoed through the stone as the tithing basket passed around, both Guillaime’s parents and her own matching their sizable checks to which they left open faced in the basket for all to see. Soon the hymns bounced off the stone, the echo keeping the song for a moment. The Grand Enchanter said her final blessing and then the bell rang from the tower in a deep clanging sound that echoed in the ribs. Everyone rose, a cluster of voices rising as everyone started dispersing.

“Shall we do the usual family luncheon, then?” Lady De Lancet fluffed up the new curls she added to her usually limp red hair, already forgetting the fast she had audibly promised.

“Actually, I’m going to visit with Isaac at the Circle, but do have a lovely visit without me,” Leandra feigned an apologetic tone as she gathered her purse trying not to seem like in the hurry she was. Malcolm knew she was coming. Would he manage to get away to see her?

Her father’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You got past regulations?” Her father sounded impressed which brought a scowl from her mother.

Leandra couldn’t help the secret smile on her face. “Like you said, Daddy. I always get my way.”

Guillaume and her father shared in a fond laugh which caused his mother’s scowl to deepen. She was silent, social etiquette keeping her usual claws to herself, but the way she was glaring at Leandra, she knew that she was in for it later.

But Leandra didn’t care. The worst of her day was over. She could see Isaac and hear his laugh for the first time in half a year. And she could thank meeting Malcolm for that. Surely that meant something good.

She would walk this path towards Malcolm with unsteady steps, even as she knew that all these threads would unravel one day.

Malcolm would normally sleep through Mass, but today he had several books on his lap, scratching his head as he tried to put together the puzzle he was clearly struggling with in his mind. Taylor and Charlie sat on either side of him exchanging looks as Malcolm muttered to himself and it appeared like something was distracting him, though that could have been the chorus of singing that he was opting out of.

Charlie looked over Malcolm’s head at Taylor who was trying her best to sing along to the Chant, and Taylor tried to pay attention, but she was just as puzzled. The books Malcolm were reading were advanced, alteration magic theory along with complex anatomy books. He had one page turned to a detailed diagram of a tongue and he kept flipping back through the index and glossary as he wrote notes he adamantly hid with his arm and flipped over when he wasn’t writing in it.

Everyone had noticed the change in Malcolm and though there were a lot of theories, an elaborate prank yet to be unleashed, a chance to walk outside the Circle, that the Knight-Commander threatened tranquilization, or that Carver finally had some serious dirt on him. Malcolm barely noticed the gossip as he worked through his lunches, often falling asleep on his homework. Still, by all standards, Malcolm had become a model student, minus the sarcasm and arrogance. He wasn’t shy about boasting how he graduated without trying, but no one could explain why he was. Trying.

Sure, being a House Mage was an esteemed position, and the fact that he had earned the bid of not one but two major houses was enough reason for some, but those that knew Malcolm understood that he didn’t obey or bend his will for anyone.

At least not without ulterior motives.

But as his friends looked over him they weren’t sure what those motives were.

The Chant died down and so Sister Margaret took over the sermon. It was the usual. ‘Repent thy sin for being born of sin.’ The same as last week and the week before.

“Are you finally doing it?” Charlie whispered over with a sad look.

“Hmmm?” Malcolm answered, only half paying attention.

“Escaping,” Charlie said hushedly.

“What? No!” Malcolm snorted a little too loudly, which brought an annoyed glance from Sister Margaret, but since she was used to Malcolm snoring through her sermons she quickly moved on.

Malcolm suddenly pulled out a dictionary from his backpack, flipping through for a definition. That was when Taylor leaned forward, her eyebrows raised. “Not that I would normally deter studying but can’t this wait until lunch?”

“Might be busy at lunch,” Malcolm crossed out what he was writing as he shook his head. At least he hoped to be. Carver said that it was possible for Leandra and him to have a little window together today. He didn’t know when but he was just waiting on his summons.

“Might?” Charlie repeated. Then he looked between the elves. “Oh, I get the studying now! You’re finally dating.”

Malcolm’s laugh filled the small cramped stone room that served as the chapel drawing shushes and an outraged scowl from Sister Margaret.

Taylor looked mortified to be associated with Malcolm, let alone dating him and she looked apologetically to the Sister imploring her to go on. When the sister finally did, Taylor leaned over and whispered to Charlie, “Maker preserve me, will you get that out of your head?”

That’s when Taylor looked down at Malcolm’s backpack and saw something strange peeking out between the pages of his homework. She pulled it out with wide eyes. “But maybe Malcolm’s dating someone else?”

“What?” Malcolm looked up from his work, only to notice too late what Taylor was staring at.

“What’s that?” Charlie snatched it from Taylor before Malcolm could grab it.

Malcolm wrestled Charlie for the paper, tearing the page in half, making a loud riiiiiip that echoed through the chapel. Charlie’s face paled as he held the other half in his hand. There stared half of Leandra’s face in graphite, a mole dotting under her starry eye creased in a laughing smile punctuated by dimples in her apple cheeks, her hair drawn in careful loving strokes framing her bare neck and delicate collar bones, shapely lips rendered done with care.

“You motherfucker!” Malcolm shoved Charlie angrily into his seat, scattering the books on his lap.

“Sorry, dude!” Charlie handed the other half back but the damage was already done.

“Malcolm, that’s enough!” Sister Margaret shouted paying no attention to Charlie. “If you’re going to curse in Maker’s house you are not welcome here.”

Malcolm held both halves, noticing that others were staring and he quickly crumpled it up before anyone could get a good look. He cursed himself and Taylor and Charlie. What use were friends if all they wanted to do was pry into your private life and spread all your secrets? Now his surprise gift was ruined, and his good mood with it.

He threw the ruined art piece back into his backpack with a huff gathering all his stuff and shoving it all in so it all crumpled into one wad. “That’s fine, you’re a broken record anyways.”

Malcolm stormed out of the chapel, the templars usually stationed outside strangely not there to escort him out. He was going to head to his room but Taylor and Charlie followed him, both with remorseful looks on their faces. He made his way through the hallways which were emptied since everyone was left at Mass.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” Charlie repeated.

“It’s fine, drop it,” Malcolm spat, not looking back. They descended to the stairs and back into the lower chambers, not noticing that even the halls were barren of the usual templar or two.

“Wait, wait, wait, don’t shut me out like that,” Charlie jogged up and caught Malcolm by his backpack, pulling him back. “I messed up. That’s on me. You would have won major points for that gift, I’m sure. But don’t I have a right to be mad, too?”

Malcolm turned around with a glare clenching his fist into a ball. “Why, you picking a fight?”

“No, but you can punch me if it’ll make you feel better,” Charlie offered his cheek and Malcolm found his hand unclench on it’s own.

When it was apparent Malcolm would neither leave nor punch him, Charlie shoved him and said, “Dude, who is she? She was hard to recognize with half a face but she’s a babe. You’re holding out on me.”

“I can’t tell you,” Malcolm’s eyes flicked around the halls for people listening but though he didn’t see anyone that didn’t mean someone couldn’t overhear.

“Why?”

Malcolm glared, lowering his voice to a whisper. “You told Mandy McConnells I wet the bed in 7th year and that’s why no girl will even look at me.”

Malcolm shifted his glare to Taylor who barked out a short laugh before she bit her bottom lip to contain her smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just you think that’s why? Not your ogreish personality?”

Malcolm’s nostrils flared, ignoring that point. “I’m NEVER trusting you with a secret, again.”

Charlie placed his palms together in a prayer as he pleaded to Malcolm. “It slipped out, dude. You kept doing it.”

That’s when Malcolm swung at Charlie but he ducked instinctively, a habit he had grown used to being friends with a Ferelden.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this!”

“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry! I’ve given you tons of back and foot massages and I was your personal servant for like a month. I swear I won’t tell anyone about it like no one knows about my secret diary.”

“Dude,” Malcolm snorted in disbelief, his fist full of Charlie’s robe, “you’ve read me poetry from your diary.”

“Like you should tell me who you’re dating. It’s vital bro info.”

Taylor pushed them apart putting her back to Malcolm as she placed a hand on Charlie’s chest. “In this instance, I think Malcolm’s right. You should just let it go.”

Charlie looked confused, watching Malcolm’s anxious breathing in renewed light. “What’s wrong? It’s not like you’re dating someone outside the Circle?”

Malcolm’s and Taylor’s dead silence answered the question for Charlie. He dropped his jaw. “Holy shit. You’re dating someone outside the Circle?”

Malcolm reached around Taylor and grabbed Charlie’s head and wrestled him into a headlock. “Will you not say that so fucking loud?”

Still, Charlie’s muffled ecstatic laughter could be heard from Malcolm’s death grip, the sound soothing his anger. So Charlie finally got the whiff of his secret. He hoped he had a little more time.

Malcolm dragged Charlie by the head through the hallways until they came out into the courtyard, Taylor following like this was a normal thing cause it was.

“So I can’t even know her first name?” Charlie continued the conversation. “I mean what’s the harm in that?”

“It’s too obvious once you put it together,” Taylor explained for Malcolm. “She’s not just anybody. This can get Malcolm in a lot of trouble.” She then added with a shake of her head. “You’re not hiding it very well.”

“Well I didn’t plan on people going through my private things.” Was he relieved that he at least had someone in on the secret other than Carver that could keep their mouth shut?

Malcolm found that without Charlie fighting back, this wrestle really wasn’t going anywhere, so he shoved Charlie’s head away.

Taylor walked ahead of him, her mood seeming impish with the way she stopped in front of him and started walking backwards so her dark skin reflected the sunshine like stained glass. “Tough tiddies. It’s the Circle. You’re not going to get privacy.”

As if to answer that the train of thought the real train that connected from the mainland pulled into the station, it’s gears squeaking against the rail and no sooner did they stop did a squadron of templars came rushing past the mages and towards the upper chambers in a rush. One of the templars in a helmet broke rank and stopped before them. It was hard to tell who exactly, but their armor marked them as a ranking officer.

They pointed to the three of them and with a deep voice, he said, “What are you doing in the courtyard. It’s out of bounds.”

“Sister kicked me out of Mass for saying fuck on the Maker’s day,” Malcolm said like he was commenting on the weather.

Both Taylor and Charlie exchanged uneasy tense glances, unsure what would happen.

But this templar seemed more used to Malcolm’s snark and didn’t acknowledge it other than to say, “Everything’s on lockdown. Back to the cafeteria or to your rooms.”

Lockdown? What was going on?

Taylor frowned. “Is the library on lockdown?”

But Malcolm waved his hand and said. “Wait, more importantly where’s Carver?”

Taylor flashed a violet glare. “My question is just as important.”

“Carver’s in an emergency. Library’s not restricted,” then the man marched off back towards the hallways where the upper levels reached. The only thing up there other than the Chantry hall was the restricted areas like the Harrowing Chamber.

Malcolm couldn’t help but feel something queer was happening and he feared that the terror demon made his move. He nodded to Taylor and Charlie. “Well I’m off to grab lunch before my nap. Want to join me?”

As if to answer him, the lunch bell finally rang, echoing through the courtyard.

Charlie hopped on the balls of his feet, excited at the prospect of lunch and they all headed towards the mess hall. Sunday was the chefs day off so all was served all day was things that could be made the day before which usually consisted of soup you had to warm up yourself and dry cold cut sandwiches but that was no longer a problem for the mages now that Charlie blabbed the whole taste illusion spell to the Circle.

“Dude, I almost got tacos right. Taylor helped me.”

That brought a warm smile to Taylor’s full lips. “Oh, I also tweaked the spell so it has crunch now, too. I’ll show you,” she added enthusiastically.

Charlie’s jaw dropped in awe stopping in the hall. “No joke, you are the most incredible woman to exist.”

Taylor tripped on her feet sputtering, clinging to Charlie so she wouldn’t tip over. He caught her by the waist easily pulling her small frame against his chest before she tumbled to the ground. They stood there stunned, clinging to the other awkwardly as if they weren’t sure what to do next.

Malcolm coughed which broke the spell, pushing them apart.

Taylor looked embarrassed as if she didn’t know what to do with her hands and she kept shifting positions, finally balling them up and placing them on her thighs.

Charlie scratched the back of his head looking at anywhere but Taylor. He was trying to play cool, but Malcolm could see that Charlie was now a nervous wreck, hiding his eyes under his dark bangs as if that would shield him from scrutiny.

Malcolm wondered if they would ever stop focusing on his love life and actually admit they liked each other. They seemed to have these weird moments more and more often. Projection, maybe?

“Hey, you have to pay homage to the genius. I made the spell,” Malcolm joked trying to lighten the mood.

“But Taylor’s an artist. She makes everything she touches better,” Charlie said, his voice sounding shy, the picking of his nails adding to that effect, and Malcolm couldn’t help but think how soft Charlie looked as he said that.

Taylor crossed her arms, huddling into herself as if she needed to hide. “I don’t know about that.”

Malcolm suddenly felt like there was one too many people in the room and so as the other uncomfortable party he did what any good friend would do. Tease them.

“Dude, why have you been trying to pawn Taylor off on me all these years? You’ve clearly got a thing.”

This time Charlie sputtered, Taylor watching in a careful seriousness as his eyes went wide and he backed away as if he was going to run. “I mean we’re just really good friends. Brother. Sister.”

“Sure,” Malcolm’s voice lilted. “That’s how I’d look at my sister.”

This time Charlie swung at Malcolm which Malcolm darted out of the way. “Dude. Shut up. You’re making things weird.”

Taylor said nothing, still watching Charlie, unsure if this was another joke the two of them were playing.

“Ask Taylor out and maybe I’ll tell you her name,” Malcolm challenged, making Taylor audibly choke.

“So there is a girl,” Charlie grabbed at the subject, desperate for the change. “We’re establishing that.”

Malcolm couldn’t help but laugh. The reach was so pitiful. “Dude, been established.”

”Just checking,” Charlie scratched his arm. His gaze kept flicking to Taylor who looked at him unwaveringly as he fumbled. “Just checking…”

Malcolm’s dare hung in the air unanswered.

“Well I guess if you never ask the question, you never find out,” Taylor clicked her tongue as she tucked a curl of hair back in place and then walked into the cafeteria leaving Charlie blinking dumbly.

Charlie looked at Malcolm for an explanation. “Why would she say that?”

Poor Taylor.

Malcolm slung his arm around Charlie feeling the brotherly need to help him out, even though he felt he knew as much about romance as Charlie did, but he needed to call upon Scholar somewhere safe and figure out if there was a problem that needed his attention, so he said, “When you figure it out, dude, come talk to me.”

Charlie contorted his face, looking more lost and confused and he jutted out his lip. “Aww, now you’re picking on me.”

“Well you deserve a lil’ payback for ruining my girl’s portrait,” Malcolm chuckled. Saying that aloud did make him feel lighter.

Charlie seemed to be giddy that Malcolm admitted that, too. “Can I tell people you’ve got a girl at least?”

“Dude,” Malcolm’s smile dropped back into a deadly expression. “I’ll haunt your dreams.”

Charlie’s shoulders dropped in disappointment. “Fine.”

Malcolm and Charlie broke apart and got in line for lunch.

They noticed that Taylor was several people ahead, Arth Elliot in deep conversation with her. He kept brushing his blond bangs away from his face, a flirtatious smile on his lips and for once Taylor was actually giving him the time of day.

Charlie immediately made an ugly grimace. “What’s she talking to that idiot for?”

Malcolm nudged Charlie’s shoulder with a smug smirk. “Do something about it.”

Charlie immediately balked, rubbing the back of his head. “She can talk to who she likes. It’s fine,” but then he crossed his arms sulkily. “Arth’s still a jerk and a playboy. She should be careful.”

Before Malcolm could agree, a templar on a walkie talkie walked up to them from her guard post pointing straight at Malcolm.

“Are you Hawke?”

Malcolm looked over the templar not recognizing her face. She was tanned from the sun with a scar on her right cheek that looked like it had been sliced through and her eyebrows were sharp and rigid in contrast to her bald head that had black stubble growing out. She was built like a chiseled warrior that most of the templars were demanded of, and yet Malcolm could not place her face among the recruits. She wasn’t one of Malcolm’s harassers, nor one of Carver’s friends. Was she new, or just very unremarkable?

“Am I in trouble?” Hawke cringed, knowing that was usually the reason.

“I am to escort you to the Knight-Commander immediately. Please, come with me.”

Malcolm groaned. “I mean, can I get a sandwich first?”

Malcolm expected the templar to snap at him or start dragging him by the collar, but the woman actually considered his rather reasonable request. After a moment, she nodded and said, “It would probably be best if you have your strength. Do hurry, please.”

Malcolm blinked, actually amazed. A templar that said please not once but twice. A third and it wouldn’t be an accident.

Malcolm’s smile turned smug as he left Charlie in line to cut it with the templar’s permission, and snagged a sandwich not really caring which flavor. He stuffed one in his mouth before grabbing another still chewing, deciding today he wanted to feast on lechon. He had been feeling extra famished lately and the taste of the suckling pig was extra filling and he could feel it reawakening him. By the time he had strolled back he had polished off one of the sandwiches and was savoring the next one bite by tiny bite.

He saluted Charlie with a sandwich on his way out. "Let me know when you finally grow some balls."

Charlie rolled his eyes and pretended to ignore him.

The templar silently led him to the templar quarters, the spaces tight as most templar initiates slept like apprentices, in communal bunks with absolutely no privacy. Templars, though, did not have to live in bunk beds, smelling each other’s body odor and tripping on each other’s laundry. Many templars only used the beds on shift and could carve their little slice of home somewhere in Kirkwall away from the Circle.

As they walked down the hall they passed by the highest ranking templar’s office, passing Carver to the Knight-Commander’s on the end, marked by the Chantry’s sun being pierced by a blade engraved into the door and two suits of ceremonial templar armor that decorated each side.

The templar motioned for the door unceremoniously. “Go in, please. The Commander is waiting for you.”

And with the third please that became a pattern. Malcolm remarked upon the fact he managed to walk beside another templar that wasn’t Carver and didn’t end up in handcuffs part of the way for his attitude. But she hadn’t given him any lip, so he decided to keep the goodwill going and nodded. “Thanks for the escort. And lunch.”

The templar looked surprised to be thanked. She nodded, attempting a smile too tense to not have nervousness behind it. “And thank you for not being difficult.”

Malcolm blinked as the templar reddened, as if she only just realized that could be considered rude. But Malcolm just shook his head with a chuckle as he placed his hand on the brass knob. He’d rather make templars nervous than bold. “Back at you,” he said and pulled the heavy door open.

He was expecting to see Leandra today, but he didn’t expect to see her in the Knight-Commander’s office, nor did she expect him to see her red eyed with a pile of soiled tissues upon the Knight-Commander’s desk. She stood up when she saw Malcolm, as if she wanted to rush over to him before she realized that it wasn’t only Carver there, but the the Knight-Commander and First Enchanter Elric, a short pinkish man that shared Malcolm’s fondness for napping, though his love probably stemmed from the fact that he was approaching 80. He was looking rather comfy snuggled into the arm of his chair next to the Knight-Commander, looking oddly like he needed a blanket.

“Thank the Maker you came,” Leandra crumpled up the tissue in her hand.

“I wouldn’t thank the Maker, yet,” The First Enchanter stroked his long wizardly beard. “Like I’ve told you, my lady, I’m not sure much can be done.”

“At least let him try!” Leandra’s voice was desperate and hoarse, as if she had just been yelling.

If Malcolm had known it was Leandra that needed him, he wouldn’t have dragged his feet or stopped for lunch. He quickly stepped closer into the room, Leandra like a magnet he had to pull away from with force. He didn’t know what happened but he couldn’t stand to see her like this, mascara running down her cheeks, her face a red splotchy mess. Seeing her in such pain awakened a fierceness in him he didn’t realize he had. It took everything not to fold her into his chest so he could comfort her.

So instead he bowed his head with all the respect afforded to a noblewoman and said, “If I can be of service, my lady, you need only ask. Just tell me what to do.”

The Knight Commander and the First Enchanter shared a surprised glance at the other at Malcolm’s response before the corner of the wizard’s mustache tugged into the smallest smile.

Leandra nodded, grateful tears running down her cheeks as she tore up the tissue in her hand tearing it into little pieces. “It’s Isaac. He has meltdowns...They can get ugly. He needs structure to help keep him calm, toys to soothe him and...and…” She repeated ‘and’ again and again as if she was stuck, unable to continue the next thought.

“The boy threw a tantrum when we told him today wasn’t the day his mother was coming,” the First Enchanter finished in a tired ragged tone that sounded callous and bored, “It is rather unfortunate but in the emotional distress he inflicted upon himself he fell prey to demon and is now an imminent threat to us all. We know what must happen.”

His croaking voice said the last haunting words with such finality that Leandra renewed her wailing, the sound tearing apart Malcolm’s heart.

“No,” he said and he squared his shoulders facing the Knight-Commander. “Send me into the Fade. That’s what I’m here for, right? To kill the demon?”

Both the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter seemed pleased that this was Malcolm’s response.

“Well that is true but we still need to go over...business,” the First Enchanter ruffled through a stack of papers he took from a folder he had in front of him and slid them across the desk before Leandra.

Leandra blinked through her tears as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “My nephew’s life hangs in the balance, and we’re talking price? Now?”

The First Enchanter shrugged. “It’s ugly but the Circle is not a charity. To send your chosen mage into the Fade to rescue your kin will need a vast supply of lyrium, which unfortunately there is currently a shortage of. We need to keep enough on hand to supply our templars, you know,” then the wizard placed his wrinkled hands to flip through the pages. “There is also upkeep of the mages; boarding, food, education and so that has to come from somewhere. Renting this mage’s services will help absorb some of the debt we incur.”

Leandra looked at the giant price tag at the bottom. She tried to do the calculation in her head but if she were to try to cover this herself it would wipe out almost her entire savings. She would have almost nothing left to cover Mara’s salary. “Excuse me a moment,” she bit her lip and dug through her purse for her phone, unblocking her father’s number, and called.

The dial rang twice before he answered and said, “I’m surprised to hear from you, Sweetpea. I thought we were not communicating anymore by phone.” She could hear restaurant music being played in the backgrounds, the rush of conversation and clutter muffling up his voice.

Leandra ignored the obvious attempt at an argument and said, “Father, Isaac’s been possessed and we need to make a payment of 10,000 sovereigns to send a mage into the Fade to rescue him.”

Malcolm coughed, choking on his own spit. “How many bottles of lyrium am I chugging?”

“The average mage needs to ingest about 5-8 bottles, though we don’t know your tolerance. Most of that cost is you,” the First Enchanter said flatly.

So this was how the Circle worked. Malcolm felt like it was stupid to keep good talent locked away to fester and rot, but when he could be rented like this to the highest bidder, it all seemed to be just parts of system placed there by design, not some random accident.

Malcolm fumed, he would not be anyone’s tool. “Well, knock some of those zeroes off because I need only one bottle. Right, Carver?”

Carver bugged his eyes out before he blurted out, “Yes, right.”

The First Enchanter widened his eyes impressed but seemed to take this in stride, as if this was just part of the negotiation. “We’d have to check the current marketplace value, but by our last estimates a vial of lyrium has been driven up to...”

He trailed off looking to the Knight-Commander for help who blurted out, “50 sovereigns now.”

“Which would leave you with a savings of 200 sovereigns, that is if the mage can back his claims,” the old mage adjusted his wire frame glasses.

Malcolm scoffed at the First Enchanter. The old bat knew his name because he had signed plenty of Malcolm’s detention slips. 200 sovereigns was still nothing to sneeze at, but compared to 10,000, it seemed like he had only chipped at a mountain.

Still, Malcolm remained silent as Leandra relayed all of this to her father. Then she frowned deeply as she said, “What, why? Is that really necessary?”

He could hear the man’s stern voice lecturing but the speaker obscured most of his words.

Eventually she hung her head and she walked up to Malcolm outstretching her phone with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry. My father wants to talk to you.” She looked truly scared to hand the phone over, her hands trembling.

Malcolm audibly gulped, unsure if he really wanted to take that call but finding no other choice left to him he took the phone from Leandra’s shaky hands and put it up to his ear.

“You’re not talking guff? You can save me 200 sovereigns?”

Was that really what warranted a one-to-one conversation? Still Malcolm kept his tone respectful and short, “Yes, ser.”

“And you can save my sister-in-law’s son? You guarantee it? You’re still costing me a king’s ransom.”

Malcolm felt his mouth go dry, but he promised, “I’m worth it. He will not die under my watch.”

“Good,” he grunted satisfied. “You gave your word. That means something. If you can manage this, then maybe there is a future here for you. Maybe.”

It seemed a hollow promise, from a hollower man and yet when he looked at Leandra’s tear-brimmed eyes full of hope he knew he couldn’t afford to fail.

Malcolm slapped on his usual cocksure smirk. “You can count on it.”

#malcolm/leandra #malcolm hawke #leandra amell #leandra hawke #da fanfic #da2 #my writing

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