#veiled egde

[o-no-it-all-went-wrong]

Felt cute writing this, might delete later

I played and beat Rise of the Ronin, and wanted to write up something based around my favorite plot twist of the game.

Spoilers below for Rise of the Ronin, it has death, and I will disclose I did make my Blade Twin Mizu from Blue Eye Samurai. I have zero regrets

Now some context/info on my Veiled Edge prior to the snippit!!

-My Veiled Edge (usually default all names to Em) is foreign blood, she was abandoned as an infant. She sticks out like a sore thumb with thick, curly red hair and bright, round amber eyes

-A bit self shippy, but I always saw her relationship with her Blade Twin to be romantic. Like 'wives' in a sense. When the Black Ship incident occurred, her ONLY goal was to find Mizu. Playing both sides of the oncoming political war (and everyone involved) to get to this goal

-It was only after Genzui's suicide (and Fumi's "How can you create a peaceful world through war?!") that made her open her eyes and choose to fight for the greater good, putting finding her Blade Twin on the back burner

-Both times the Blade Twins fight prior to the Omi Inn Incident, Em purely protected herself and was truly heartbroken by Mizu's betrayals. She truly wanted to believe it was brainwashing by the foreign forces that caused this and held hope that she could fix this.

-She found comfort in Ryoma's company and they subsequently formed a Veiled Vow VERY PRIOR to the Omi Inn Incident (Thankfully ya girl grinded for 10 hours and got the branch where he survives thank god)

I wrote this at like 10 in the morning when I woke up, Im sorry if its not good, its self indulgent but you gotta make self indulgent stuff to thrive man

Blood was a smell all too familiar to her. Its metallic taste and copper scent were something she grew accustomed to. There was no telling how many times it accidentally got up her nose or on her tongue what times she tried to speak after a fight. No mistake as well how many clothes she lost from the stains she couldn't get off the cloth.

But this time, the smell made her sick. Two bodies lay in the room she stormed into. One she recognized little. A member of the anti-shogunate faction, that's as much as she knew. But the other... She refused to believe it was him. Her closest friend. The person that had stuck alongside her since she escaped the Veiled Edge. Her Veiled Vow Ryoma Sakamoto, leaned against a wall, drenched in his own blood. From where she stood, she couldn't see a rise and fall of his chest or a flicker of his eyelids.

"You still need... To clean up this country..." The anti-shogunate man choked out, snapping Em from her thoughts, "You need... To live..."  His body began to slump as he used his final breath to speak, the thud that his corpse emitted seemed to echo in the Veiled Edge's ears. It was all becoming too real. Her mind was finally able to make ends of what she was seeing before her. The rocks that weighed her stomach down rose to her throat as she watched the scene unfold.

"He was a bad influence to you." No... She knew that voice. A sickening familiar voice that she never thought she would hear again. Her wet amber eyes flickered to her side, only to see her Blade Twin come forward, staring at the carnage before them. She turned her blue eyes towards Em, "But I've taken care of that."

'But I've taken care of that'. Those words burned into her mind. She did this...? Mizu? She killed him?? Her thoughts screamed and stayed silent all at once. Blood roared in her ears, her throat begged to yell. Her body and mind fought ferociously. She wanted to crumple to the ground and scream until her throat ran raw. She wanted to kneel and let her end come, so maybe if death took her now she could maybe see Ryoma's warm smile again. She wanted to unsheath her blade and destroy all her gaze fell upon.

"Murderer..." Her voice was little more than a shaky whisper as her gaze met Mizu's. She prayed that this was all a sort of sick joke. But this was far from it. It was the harsh reality that life was crueler than she would have ever imagined.

The overwhelming grief and pain turned to rage, the stones in her stomach turning to fire as she brandished her oxtail blade, "MURDERER!!" Every other time Em and Mizu clashed their blades, she never intended to hurt her Blade Twin. She only wished to defend herself; Mizu was simply brainwashed, she'd come around! This simply proved Em wrong. The counterpart she had been raised beside her whole life was gone. This was no longer the woman she came to care about. The one she would have burned down all of Japan to find safe and sound.

Only one thing would satisfy the inferno in her heart: to cut her Blade Twin down, just as she did her Veiled Vow.

[fille--de--joies]

More words please.. tell us about an epiphany or a beautiful moment burned in your soul.. a lost love, a regret, a success..

What could I tell you about her? what could I tell about her frail existence—her joys are but castles built of ashes and tears; sadness besieged her for ages, and stalked her steps til the egde of each horizon—there's no escape from these bottomless tombs; she's gone, and she hasn't written a single letter to the one who left; she's gone, and she isn't tired of her exile.

I call her name but she doesn't recognize my voice I stand in her way but she doesn't see me—she seeks a breakout from yesterday to finally pierce the veil of the sun and time.

مقتبس من القصيدة "إلى سلمى" للشاعرة فدوى طوقان

[cyberghost-scout]

"Most likely in the center of the main city of the mortals. Its a bit on holy land for them." He was not ashamed this god.

---

She sat down near the egde, not bothering them at all and letting them relax. She pulled off the veil, her ashen black hair was short save for the bangs and side bits. The femme sighed and flanced back at her loyal ones. "Nice day. Haven't seen this often, no?" She spoke, her voice was much softer when not around many mortals and gods. Save for the goddea of arts and yhe god of medicine. She turned back and enjoyed the birds and the site of cute bunnies until one of her nympths screamed.

She stand up and turned around, getting in front of her nypmths and ready to defend them... the she looked at the two idoits.

She stared at them for a good while, recongizing the color scheme of the justice god. She groaned pinching her brow.

"You two, stay!" She barked at the two. Oh she's getting answers. So much for a vaction from the sword up his aft god.

"Why did your master sent you here?"

⚔️Of gold, silver, and blood⚔️

⚜️🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹💠🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹⚜️

It was a bright sunny day, above the skies of the planet below. Bots around celebrating, playing, selling, sleeping. Any of the normal things they would do. A hard days work or spending it in parties. All depended on their status, as well as winnings. The long time war settled, with bots with red upon their frames having a glorious time. Not at all paying attention to those who have began to hurt or died. Only paying attention to their own.

Though, above and beyond the skies. To the highest point was the long times myths and legends.

Though we’re they? Because above the sunny skies was the night. The night in the other world of more important and ruling class. Not even that, the ones who controlled and shown. Those who went down in the logs and books.

Above and at the main point in the land, was the main house of Iaconus. The place where the gods and goddesses lived, created, born, found. Iaconus, the grand gathering place of where the one named Optimus lead with his brothers.

Though tonight it was the place of a party. The party to end all parties. Where a gods, goddesses, titans, and more came. That of importance. Many enjoying small talk, stories, brags, and food or drinks.

In the middle was the god of festivities and parties. Buteimus. Though Bud for short. A silly name, as he said, but one more fitting among the ones who ruled above. More around stood and partied. Though they seemed to be away from a few other gods and goddesses. The ones who were rumored to even kill such a fun party. One which eve the god himself of parties seemed wary to invite, though did so out of respect.

The ones of war and justice.

⚜️🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹💠🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹⚜️

[salexectrian-heir]

Savior of the Damned (6)

Lavellan finds Fen’Harel wounded and dying in the woods, and has to make a life altering decision.

Superstition and Fear whispered for her to run. Resentment and Anger commanded her stay, watch him suffer and die. Reason told her to send word to the Inquisition and turn him over to their jurisdiction. Mercy pleaded with her to put him out of his misery and end his life on the spot. But Intuition asked her to save him, and it was Intuition that won her over in the end.

First // Previous // AO3 Link

Chapter 6: Explanations

With bow in hand, knife in its sheath, quiver over her left shoulder and light pack over her right, she followed the small stream running along the perimeter of the woods on the outskirts of camp. She would need to follow the creek until it joined a larger river that was located just a little deeper in the forest. The plant she was scavenging for, the black lotus, usually only grew along banks of the Storm Coast, but on one her many forays into these strange woods she had come across this river in particular where a few patches of the rare lotus had somehow managed to thrive.

Anxiety had taken up an unpleasant residence in her stomach that not even the calming sounds twilight and the water babbling beside her could relieve. She felt powerless in this whole situation, felt lost. Here she was collecting a rare flower while some demonic entity hunted her, an entity who was slowly killing the Dread Wolf to get through to her and the possible solution to her problems lay written in a note.

A note she couldn’t read.

Much too proud to ask for help and too fearful to let anyone else know the extent of what was going on, Anise did what she did best. She isolated herself. It was better than ripping out her hair like she used to do as a child as she struggled to read and comprehend texts, both in common and elven, though elven was always worse. No matter how hard she stared at words, the letters kept switching around on her, moving as if by their own free will across the parchment.

A cruel joke she thought her brothers played on her, until she realized they did not have magic and therefore couldn’t enchant the parchment text. Telling her mother was the hardest thing she had ever done. She had to learn everything in a different manner than her peers, instead of reading and writing, she received lessons orally. Diagrams with images were drawn for her to help explain concepts.

Deshanna was understanding when it came to teaching her magic, most of it was accomplished through demonstration, and Anise felt like she excelled at something finally that didn’t require her to spend copious hours trying to wade her way through words and letters that wouldn’t stay still.

Healing magic was much of the same, it took precision and practice. Deshanna once told her that she could read all the tomes in the world on healing, and still know nothing. While it was good to have knowledge, it could never replace application and experience.

But this wasn’t going to help her now. She took out the crumbled parchment she had crushed in anger from within her vest, and sat down on a dry rock along the river bank and tried to calm herself enough to attempt to read it again. The effort it took was exhausting. If she had hours to decipher it, she’d be able to get most of it, but she didn’t have hours.

Three is na evlen arfitact in teh wdoos taht will slehid the doemn form eentring tihs raelm. It si laceoctd at the etrnncae to ugreundrrond tpepmle, not far form whree we fisrt met. Fnid and bnirg it to teh egde of yuor cmap and avciatte it. Let yuor mgiac gidue yuo. It wlil streenghntn the viel soirruudning your Caln, proeetctnig tehm. But wlil waeekn the veil in teh Wdoos.

Be wray.

Below his script was a messy sketch of what appeared to be a sphere with geometric blocks attached to its surface. At least he had drawn a picture and she had that to go off of. She would just bring it back—whatever it was—sneak it into camp somehow and make up an excuse that she didn’t know how to work it, or whatever he had asked her to do in the note.

She just had no idea where to find it, but she bet it was written on that paper.

She cried out as she stood, pocketing the parchment once more and tossing her bow on the bank before wading into the river. She did not have to stray too far before spotting a promising looking strip of flora. Unsheathing her knife, she began to viciously hack away at the plant life in shame, though not so carelessly as to cut the wrong parts of the plant she needed. The repetitive task of cutting and gathering allowed her to channel her frustration into something productive, giving her space to think more clearly.

She would start where she found him, that seemed like the best course of action. Whatever he was doing in the woods before she found him was probably linked to whatever he drew on the parchment, or at least related some fashion.

After she dried the bundle of black lotus she had gathered and tucked it away in her pack, she picked up her bow and set off deeper into the woods. The last dying rays of light from the set sun were swallowed up by the forest as she ventured further. She could feel the life of the forest around her, heightening her senses. Her eyes adjusted to darkness, but just to be safe, she summoned a small wisp of light to follow her. It was more of comforting presence than a necessary one, since Elves could technically see in the dark. She followed her markers she had etched into the bark of some of the larger trees that would lead her to her hunting grounds. It would be easy to find her old campsite from there.

There was dried blood in patches on the ground from where she had first encountered Fen’Ha—Solas, she corrected herself while rolling her eyes—in her wards. The remains of her fire long snuffed out lay scattered by the wind. The taste of stale magic from her protective spells lingered, metallic on her tongue.

“So Solas, you landed in my trap running from this direction,” Anise said aloud, turning to face the portion of trees that lead into the heart of the forest, “of course you were.”

Suddenly, the energy of the forest spiked, causing a surge in awareness within Anise. She could feel the forest pulling her in that direction, magnetic almost in nature. She took a few steps towards the dark looming trees, as if beckoning her further. The farther she stepped into darkness, the stronger the pull became, like a humming beneath her skin. It drew her off the barely worn path through trees that increasing got larger in size, their trunks easily spanning the width of an aravel. In the distance stood a crumbling stone archway, the spirit of the forest that was channeling her gave an insistent tug, and she followed its lead.

She lifted her hand and ran her fingers over the cool stones. They were enchanted with some kind of magic, ancient, faintly singing beneath her finger tips. Higher on the arch Anise could just barely making out an inscription. Elven, she noted, since the letters jumbling around were even more complex than usual. Through the arch were an eroded set of stairs that led to a small stone clearing. The forest obviously wanted her to go down them. Debris and fallen trees covered parts of the steps and floor, well as patches of moss had reclaimed the once beautiful dais. Stone statues of Fen’Harel in repose were strategically positioned on its perimeter.

In the center on a raised platform, stood the structure Solas had drawn on the parchment. She pulled the parchment one more time just to be sure as she approached. The sphere sat upon a cylindrical base, and had intricate geometric designs jutting from its surface. It thrummed with old magic, lying dormant beneath its smooth surface. Stuffing the now severely crinkled paper back into her vest she extended her hands out to touch it. It heated upon contact, but nothing else happened. She drew her brows down, half expecting it to spark.

“I wish I knew what do to do with this… thing,” she muttered to herself, walking around as she inspected it. She took in its surroundings, its placement in the center of the stone patio, equidistant from the statues of the wolves. It seemed almost as if their eyes were dimly glowing, following her movements as she circled the strange artifact. Fighting off the paranoia, she crossed over to the statue on her left. As she studied it, she got the vague impression it wasn’t just simply a statue. It was hiding something. There were three empty metal torches lining the base of the statue in almost pristine condition, a stark difference to the rest of the dilapidated amphitheater like patio.

If only you had more time to figure this place out.

Quelling the curiosity blooming within her, she turned and walked back to the artifact, lifting it up and settling it against her hip for a better grip. She severely hoped she wasn’t doing any harm by removing it from the circular dais, but she did not have time to take any more precautions. She walked backwards towards the archway, too nervous to not face the Wolves watching her cautiously exiting the way she came.

The sun had fully descended beneath the horizon by the time she made it, stealthily, back into Var’Haminan. Luck being in her favor that she did not run into any of the night patrols guarding the camp. Not that they would have given her any trouble, she just didn’t feel like starting a conversation revolving around pointless small talk. It would just delay her from objective and stress her out even more.

When she entered, Solas glanced over at her in surprise.

She felt the need to explain herself. “It didn’t work, I didn’t know what to do— “

“Bring it here, quickly.”

She rushed to his side and he reflexively reached out, an iridescent glow spiraling in his palm that spread over his entire hand as he touched the sphere’s surface. Anise gasped as she felt the magic surge through the artifact, causing energy to pulsate from it in electric looking wisps. She nearly dropped it when it began to emit pulse waves that she could feel penetrating her senses, radiating out across the entire room, through the walls and into the encampment and event past its borders. She held on the glowing artifact in awe.

“How did you…what did you do?” She asked, mouth slightly agape.

His lips did thing that slight smirking thing made her heart skip a beat. “Magic.”

Ugh.

She sighed loudly at his comment, “I figured. Don’t think you are entirely off the hook yet, I’m not done with you,” she warned him, scanning the room for a good place to hide the strange humming artifact.

What are you going to do with this?

“I suspect,” he groaned repositioning himself, “you have questions.”

Anise gave him a pointed stare, “You suspect.”

He chuckled, or he tried to but it turned into a grimace, “I realize this is not a subject to be amused by, at all, but I find myself amused nonetheless.”

“Trauma has varying effects on people. You seem delirious. Could be the venom in your veins though,” she said shortly, before walking off and setting the artifact in the corner of the room by the supply shelves, tossing a clean sheet from the bottom shelf over it to mask its glow—or at least a good portion of it. He fell silent at her comment. Anise chose that time to gather the materials she would need to boil the Black Lotus and turn it into an antidote. With the leftovers she could make a stronger salve.

She brought everything back to his bedside, determined to get some answers out of him while she worked to clean the plants.

“To be honest, I don’t even know where to start with you,” she finally spoke up breaking the awkward silence that had fallen over them.

“I propose a question for a question.”

“Take turns,” she asked incredulously, “I didn’t think the Dread Wolf played fair. No answering a question with another question.”

“Ah, she sees through my guise,” he countered with a labored breath, “but I can agree to those terms, if you are willing.”

“I guess I’ll play along. I’ll start,” she said, shifting her attention to his face from her cleaning, “Why?”

“Is that your favorite word, Why?”

“What did I just say, No answering questions with another question!”

“You cannot just ask ‘Why’ and expect me to know what you want me to say!”

“Yes I can, you never clarified I couldn’t.”

He exhaled sharply, “I am clarifying now, no vague questions.”

“Fine,” she said, all those questions that had been rattling around her skull suddenly rushed back, fueling her fire, “I have heard many things about you, Fen’Harel, but not enough to understand you. Why were you in the woods yesterday? Why did you betray the Inquisition, your ‘friends’? Why betray your people? Why imprison the Gods? Why do you hate this world so much you would destroy it simply to relive a dead empire? Why are we not good enough for you?”

Her outburst earned her stunned silence, his face frozen as if she had physically slapped him across the face.

What did he expect?

He swallowed before answering, “You want an explanation. It would be easier to show you.”

“Show me?”

“Yes, if I promised to show you tonight, would you allow me?”

“You mean, show me in the Fade?”

“Yes.”

Her brows scrunched as she contemplated his offer, “How will I know what you are showing me is real, and not just an illusion?”

“The Fade is shaped by memories, feelings… different perspectives, but I cannot change the facts.”

The anger within her died down to a simmer, channeling the rest of it into heating the water in the small pot she had brought over to boil the Black Lotus in. “Fine. I’m not happy about it, but Fine,” she huffed, “I will be patient and try to understand. You can show me. Your turn.” She dumped the petals into the boiling pot, nursing the brew with subtle pushes of her mana.

“You could have killed me, and yet you did not. I want to understand, why?”

Anise sat down on the edge of his cot and stared at the antidote in the making, collecting her thoughts.

“Good intentions can have devastating effects,” she said slowly, “because good people can make bad decisions…,” she looked over at him, “I’m trying to decide what type of person you are.”

“That is… very noble of you.”

“It is my duty.” She measured out the rest of the ingredients and added them to the brew.

“Then I hope you can see why I must do what I must, must make the decisions I have to make.”

“In the same fashion, I hope you can understand why I am upset with you. I like to make my own judgements after I have considered every angle. I have only heard negative things of you, Solas. I want to know the truth, which means taking your view into consideration.”

Silence fell upon them again for a moment, and only the bubbling of the antidote could be heard echoing around the empty wing.

“I… it has been a long time since I have encountered anyone with an open mind… or at least a willingness to try to understand, pardon my rudeness,” he admitted after some time.

Anise hummed a new question rising to the surface, “Are you truly immortal?”

“Immortal in the sense that my body will not decay by natural means, yes.”

“So not aging.”

“Not aging, per se. That does not mean I cannot die, as you have witnessed firsthand.”

“We’re all elves truly immortal once?”

His mouth quirked into a small smile, “I believe you just asked two questions in a row.”

Anise stuck her tongue out and began to strain the brew into vials, and one tea cup.

“Did you not think I would notice? I am not that delirious.”

“I don’t know, are you,” she teased a bit bitterly, still slightly angry with him. But just because she was angry, didn’t mean she should act on it. Her emotions were hers to process once she had more information.

“Why did you not activate the artifact and leave it outside your camp? Why bring it here?”

She accidently splashed some of the scalding liquid on her hand at his inquiry.

“Ah, fenedhis,” she spat, shaking her hand to cool the liquid. She set aside the pot and tended to her newly acquired injury, ignoring his question.

“Were my instructions not clear,” he probed after she failed to answer him.

That is one way of saying it.

“I was under a lot of pressure, and I panicked,” she retorted, releasing the small winter spell she used to treat her burn.

“That seems very much unlike you from what I’ve observed.”

She took a shaky breath. She owed nothing to him. Why should she divulge any of her secrets to him?

Because you want him to divulge your secrets to you. Trust is built on reciprocation.

What if she told the Dread Wolf she didn’t know how to read? What was the worst he could do? Write insults? Nothing she had not dealt with before. God, or no, she should not care what he thought of her, only that he respected her. Perhaps opening up a bit would encourage him to do the same. Another thought crossed her mind suddenly, that a lover would probably know these intimate details about their partner. If it somehow came out before she told him, it could weaken their cover.

She reached into her vest and retrieved the crumbled ball of parchment.

“I did panic,” she said softly, slowly unfolding the paper, “you see, I… I can’t read.”

She looked aside to read his expression, and found him concerned.

“Has no one taught you,” he questioned in disbelief.

She shook her head and let out a hollow laugh, “Many have tried.”

“I do not understand.”

“When I look at any kind of text, whether it be tome, scroll, carving, a note on parchment,” she gestured with the wrinkled piece of paper, words pouring out, “I can’t seem to get the letters to stop rearranging themselves. They swap places with each other, rapidly. I can’t figure out what the words are… they don’t stay in any kind of order for long…”

She hung her head.

You will not cry. You will not.

“I did not realize… I am sorry, I did not mean to cause you more distress.”

“How would you know?” Her vision blurred as she stared at the damn piece of unreadable paper.

“I take it that is not your next question,” he said, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“No it is not,” she closed her eyes and felt the traitorous tears slide down her cheeks.

The sudden soft touch of fingertips on her cheek startled her. He retracted his hand immediately, apology forming on his lips but no sound coming out. She reached up to wipe her face, roughly erasing the wetness from her skin and hoping the butterflies in her stomach would evaporate as well.

“What does the note say?” she asked before he was able to find his words, extending the piece of paper to him.

He read it out loud.

“There is an elven artifact in the woods that will shield the demon from entering this realm. It is located at the entrance to an underground temple, not far from where we first met. Find and bring it to the edge of your camp and activate it. Let our magic guide you. It will strengthen the veil surrounding your Clan, protecting them. But will weaken the veil in the woods. Be wary.”

“I guess my intuition served me well,” she said with another bitter laugh, “I went to my camp and started looking from there. Your turn.” She picked up the tea cup she had set aside and blew on it, steam rolling softly off the top.

He lit the parchment on fire and let it disintegrate in his palm, casting away the ashes once the embers burned out, “My turn,” he repeated, “What is your name?”

She saw only genuine curiosity in his eyes when she gazed at him.

“Anise,” she said, offering him the mug, “my name is Anise.”

Their fingers brushed as he gently took the antidote from her. She let her fingers linger longer than they should have.

“Anise,” he echoed, the cadence of his voice saying her name sending a shiver down her spine, “Thank you.”

He smiled and for the first time, she returned it.

[evangelineartemiasamos]

Broken Circles - Red Queen Time Travel AU

Based on my writing prompt: In the alternate opening of Glass Sword, Shade is a time traveller who takes Mare into the future while future!Mare stays in the past.

Find this on wattpad

Contains several veiled and less veiled King's Cage spoilers.

Mare POV

The train is supposed to arrive at its destination in one hour. So far, Shade tries to fill me in about the most basic differences and events in this "timeline". He is careful with choosing his words, but he is very thorough. Too thorough. At times, I suspect that he extravagates on details to avoid some more vital points: It has taken me several direct questions to figure out that Maven still rules a small, but sustaining and fortified area around Archeon. To my surprise, he's allied and married to a Lakelands princess. He has been fought by Cal for a long time until Cal has died eventually, a few months ago.

My heart cramps at the mention of him, but I can't allow myself to feel pity for him. He has chosen to take back his throne at all costs, so Shade explains to me. Cal has been bolstered up by his grandmother Anabel Lerolan and several other High Houses.

"They've disbanded now," Shade adds. "They've become their own warlords, like so many others. Norta is shattered by those civil wars."

Yet one house is in league with us, the Reds and the Scarlet Guard. Samos. That has to be the reason for Evangeline's presence in Scarlet Guard facilities. I stare at her at this revelation, but she doesn't reply with anything but a raised eyebrow.

Our destination is a safe house set into a mountainous area. We have to climb for another hour before we reach the house itself which is built next to a turquoise lake. I try to pry for more information about Shade's strange ability, something I can barely grasp.

"That's something for a more calm moment," he pants, evading me.

"And what about our family?"

He freezes for a second, then turns to me and grabs my shoulders. "I know this must be very difficult for you, Mare," he says. "But - several years have passed. I can't tell you everything randomly. We have to - " he stops as he notices my frown. His dissembling starts to make me angry, just like Evangeline's indifference towards me, or her amusement about my ignonarance, shown by her rolling her eyes when Shade doesn't see her.

Shade swallows. "They're alright, okay? They're with the Scarlet Guard, though Tramy has taken to more mundane tasks, and so does Gisa. Mom and Dad are in Monfort right now. So. That's enough for you?" He holds my gaze until I nod to him.

"I see."

"Are you done discussing?" Evangeline calls from the side. "I don't intend to wait in the open all day."

I glare at her until she smiles back, to my surprise. We move into the base.

I am to take residence in a small room with two beds. One of them is obviously occupied already. "Ella is currently on duty," Shade says. "You'll meet her soon. The bathrooms are that way," he adds and points in the direction. "Dinner is in half an hour. We'll talk afterwards," he concludes and leaves me alone with my thoughts.

I'm unsure if I want to lie down or keep on running. While the trek has taken some of the egde off, I still feel charged in this strange place - and time - I've stranded in. I wonder about the "other" Mare - has she friends here? And what will she do in the past? The feeling of betrayal kicks in again. I don't know the game that is played here. But I have to find out.

Eight persons have gathered in the dining room when I arrive. I'm late, and food is being served already. I see Shade setting at a table that is half-empty and I take the place next to him, with Evangeline opposite to me. She lounges on her chair, one leg propped against the table. I look around, but I don't recognize anyone else. Next to Evangeline is a blue-haired woman who grins as she notices my observations.

"I'm Ella," she says, and waves her hand. Ella, I remember, my roommate.

"I'm Mare," I answer, and she nods. She is decent enough not to make smart remarks though I guess she's well acquainted with the future me. Or yet another version of me. I grab my plate and try not to think too hard about it all, but the ideas are picking at me. I need more information.

More latecomers show up. This time, it's a little girl and an older man. The girl rushes to the seat opposite to Shade and starts talking. "You're back! And you brought Mare with you ..?" she asks, like she's taken aback, and I flinch.

Another person who knows me already.

I wonder if she goes on to introduce herself to me, but she continues to talk to my brother. "You went away without telling me!" she accuses him. "I wanted to come with you!"

He sighs.

"I'm not so little anymore, and I'm getting better with the jumping, I'll be really helpful. And Grandfather trains with -"

"Clara."

"Dad."

I raise my eyes from my food, searching for the girl's father. But she hasn't turned around, she's still glaring at Shade, and he stares back.

By the forgotten gods.

I haven't realized their striking resemblance before, going down to their golden eyes. My jaw drops as my head spins to and fro.

"Take care to keep the food in your mouth, Lightning Girl," Evangeline taunts me. I shut my mouth. She still seems bored and blasé, but a faint smile plays on her face.

"Shade...?" I ask baffled.

He takes my hand. "Yeah, this is my daughter Clara. Clara, this is Mare from September 320. She doesn't know you yet, so don't fool around with her."

Clara rolls her eyes. "Yes, Dad. Hello, Aunt Mare."

"Hi," I say, still fighting my surprise and making assumptions in my head. She can't be much younger than eight or nine, which shocks me even more. And who is her mother? No one sits on Shade's other side and I look to Evangeline again, disbelieving, yet thinking about how familiar she's been with Shade on the train ...

"Don't glare at me, Barrow," she snorts and I blink. It can't be. "Well, are you her ... ?"

She laughs coarsely. "O my, it gets better every time, Barrow. I have certainly never been that close to your brother." Good. Good.

Clara has frowned at me the whole time, her expression  strangely familiar. Shade takes my hand again, forming words in his mouth, but it's Clara who answers.

"My mother is dead, Mare. It happened six years ago."

She says it boldly, but she lowers her head soon, her fork drawing circles on her plate. "I've hoped to come with Dad to see her again, just for a moment," she explains. Our eyes meet as she continues. "You know her, don't you? Diana Farley?"

I try my best not to blink. "I do," I reply. "I'm sorry." The girl nods and Shade grabs my hand tighter. I turn to him and see the resolve in his face.

Now I know whom he wants to save by changing the past.

Commentary

Edit: I realized I forgot that freaking dog Shiner. Okay. Imagine him cuddling with Clara. I’m not really into dogs, so if you like them, you can do that better anyway :)

Ever writing a sequel would be some worldbuilding mindfuck, like all time-travel stories. But this scene wrote itself and I needed another instance to fangirl Fade, this time with my favourite AU prompt, reserved roles.

I know I walk a thin line between comedy and angst, I hope it's balanced, without too many useless details.

Mare is veeeeery wary of Evangeline because I think it makes sense. That woman has bullied her for a month and has tried to kill her just a few hours ago. We'd need another AU to stop their rivalry.

Okay, I tag everyone who reblogged the writing prompts and some more:

@lilyharvord @dewydrael @redqueenfandom @selectedredqueen @sybillsilver @tiygreen37 @the-little-lightning-queen @mikey-waysjawline @tibemareyes @marelicious @queenmareena @maudthebookeater @universegamer @clarafarleybarrow @flowercrownsandherondales @miniaturelightfun @lunardemigod @mm23219