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beskarberry · 3 years

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Into the Twilight

Solisequious, Chapter 5

(Cyborg!Ezra x F!Reader with last name) [+18]

In that short moment between the light and dark the sunless void took its opportunity greedily, enveloping you in its shadowy embrace and leaning in close enough to whisper a secret in your ears.

Look.

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Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.8k

Content warnings: Language, Ezra being a fucking dick, side character deaths, in-depth descriptions of aurelac harvesting, tragic backstory. Hurt/comfort, wound tending, lots of pining, secretive kisses. Sad ending for the CHAPTER, not for the STORY.

A/N: That last tag is important! This chapter ends on a cliffhanger so if you don't like the suspense it's ok to skip this chapter for now and wait for the last one. I don't do sad endings, I absolutely will not, promise! One more to go!

Swirling clouds of fog blanketed the forested landscape, concealing the dawnlight that peeped through the mist in spears of righteous gold, flickering elusively across the river's surface flowing below you. Steam rose from the waters as the days’ temperature steadily increased through the morning, curling into miniature cyclones in the wake of the hovering longboat. Gliding through the haze, the skiff flew over the water in silence, looking like something from a ghost story with her keel cutting through the fog and not the waves.

You and Ezra sat in the prow, his arm comfortably around your shoulders since you couldn’t hold yourself to the skiff, your own wrists tied and numb behind you. How unfortunate -ironic really- that it was under this same arm that you’d fallen so hard for his warmth, the fire of it rising with the profession of his affections, his desire for your kiss; yet now it scalded you like you were sitting next to the devil himself.

“How much further is it?”

“I’ll know it when I see it.”

“You said that an hour ago.”

It’d gone like this much of the morning, Ezra reliant on your topographical knowledge and none too pleased about it. You liked the power it gave you over him though, the way his lip scrunched and his circuits crackled. He hated not being in control.

“I’m startin’ to wonder if you actually remember the directions-”

“There!” Finally. As you rounded a bend in the river, the placid waters tumbled over the edge of a rocky waterfall, churning frothy rapids through boulders of black granite. From there it spilled into a basin framed by the mist-shrouded jungle, snaking through a colorful meadow until it disappeared into a canyon carved from the same dark rock. As the skiff coasted over the rumbling falls and the tide-like plumes of fog, the canyon revealed itself until it consumed the horizon, a labyrinthian scar of stone walls and roaring waters.

Somewhere in there, was the queen.

Ezra’s grumpy sigh could shake the heavens down if it were any stronger. “Pray tell me little bird, is that valley yonder the site of what we seek?”

“Dunno, gotta get closer.” So I can push you off the edge.

He grumbled his acceptance, waving at the helmsman to continue onward. “For your sake, I hope that it is.”

The meadow passed under your keel in a sea of color, dots of orange and vermillion swaying in an ocean of soft greenery that danced with the wake of the skiff, still wet with morning dew. Lush vegetation thinned and diminished the closer you got to the canyon’s edge, becoming a shoreline of onyx gravel that fell away entirely down the vast ravine. Water-filled corridors of streaky sediment branched and forked for miles, cracking the moon’s surface as if it had been struck by lightning.

There were dozens of them.

Ezra huffed at the sight, scrubbing his chin with his good hand in thought. “I must insist that you disclose which of these abysmal gorges are we headed for, Hawkins, because contrary to my affable nature, I am not a patient man.”

“Water.”

“You are not in any position to barg-”

“Get us something to drink, cyborg, or I’ll just let you roam that hellhole for the next decade looking for rocks.”

“Where did you learn to negotiate?” Ezra fixed you with his half-glare, scratching absently at the strip of cloth tied around his busted face. His single eye flickered from where he held you to him to something along the edge of the meadow, a smirk twisting his bushy lips. “Perhaps I’ll no longer require your assistance after all.”

He patted your arm roughly and stood, making the floating longboat wobble dangerously as he let himself out. Surprised that he just… left, you watched him, unsure if the sparks licking his brain had finally driven him mad or not. Where the meadow washed against the dark gravel, between the green and black, a red-brown smear pushed through the thin soil, unnoticeable to anyone who didn’t know what to look for.

“Kevva favors those who are relentless.” Ezra shouted back to the boat, stabbing his hands to his hips and popping his stance. “I believe we are gettin’ closer to the queen than I thought. A pawn of hers has wandered too far from her protective bosom, and so loses the gambit.” You rolled your eyes, sick of his flowery speeches, but he had his back to you and probably wouldn’t have cared anyway. He fluffed his dark olive overcoat behind him to kneel in the gritty earth, brushing some of the dirt away from his prize.

Aurelac.

Items materialized from his pockets, canisters of fluids and field trays that he arranged around himself. He turned and peered over his shoulder, flashing you that wicked grin with a -snick- of his blade, the steel flashing brightly in the midmorning sun. Turning back to his work, he stabbed the pustule and carved it like he was serving holiday dinner, the meaty sound carrying horrifically over the rushing rapids.

“Is that an aurelac?! Let me see! I promise I won’t touch it, I-I just want to get a better view!” Tillie, ever true to her professional passion, wiggled in her bindings to get a better line of sight.

“It looks like roadkill to me.” Fiona, doing better today, clacked wearily at her overly excited friend. “I hope it fucking bites him.”

“Both of you be quiet! I need to concentrate.” Ezra barked from behind the shield of his coat, drawn up over his face to keep the creature's venomous spittle from his last good eye. The ground fizzled and squeaked, gurgling with some kind of solvent that he’d poured down the hole, and when it went still, he snaked his iron arm into the meaty fissure to remove the pearl’s pouch. You were glad to be so far away from it, disgusted by the milky-white bag Ezra was tearing from the ground, slicing through the umbilical with a wet snap.

“Hoo-wee! Lookit the size of it!” He held the slimy sack up for everyone on the boat to see, making Tillie nearly vibrate with excitement as if that wet bag of goop wasn’t justification for her execution. Ezra’s long blade split the bag open and discarded it after retrieving an even nastier chunk of offal from inside. He dropped it in the little metal tray, holding it between the gloved fingers of his left hand, but his right seemed to hesitate.

He cycled through his cutlass and the jointed picks, his five-fingered hand, and at one point a butcher’s knife, his head tilting this way and that with his thoughts. The hand returned to pick at the side of his face, fidgeting with the exposed wires of his cybernetic like he was adjusting his glasses, and the victorious realization dawned on you.

He can’t fucking see.

“What’s wrong, poo-paw? Forget your bifocals?”

“Don’t distract me, damn it! I’ve got it under control.” Ezra settled for the blade, picking away at the squishy exterior with careful cuts. Slow and deliberate, he circumnavigated the ball, nearly reaching his starting point when he exploded in a storm of curses, some of which you’d never heard before. “Seven fucking hells!” he bellowed, rising from his haunches and stomping about like an angry toddler. Your snickering drew his ire, and he fixed you with that bloodthirsty glare. “You think that’s funny?! That was a damn fine gemstone that just melted!” he scuffed his pointy peg around in the sand, looking for another specimen, his face beet red with fury when he found no more.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me then.” You purred, getting as comfortable as you could in your seat. “Sucks to be you.”

“Indeed it does.” Ezra grumbled as he climbed back into the boat, shoving a slower pirate out of the way and pulling a canteen from somewhere on his person. “Drink, and let’s be on.”

“Fiona first.”

Oh that scrunchy face. Ezra was getting wicked tired of being made a fool in front of his crew, but in truth he would have you no other way than the venomous little spitfire that you were. Somewhere in that gear-addled head of his, he was still hoping you would change your mind about his offer, but for now he was going to have to continue playing the beast while you unknowingly played his beauty. Begrudgingly, he did as you asked, giving both your companions a meager sip of water before you, ripping the canteen away before you’d gotten close to your fill.

Dickhead.

The longboat glided on, sliding over the cascading rapids and into the dark walled canyon, the obsidian corridors snuffing out the sun. Cold spray plumed over the rails, slowly soaking into your clothes and forcing a shiver down your spine. As agitated as you were with him, you were somewhat thankful that Ezra’s broad arm was taking the brunt of the chill off your shoulders with the added bonus of cooling his grumpy ass down.

You guided the skiff along the rapids, giving the helmsman your most confident directions, but as the canyon narrowed and the river deepened, you were beginning to worry you may have gotten the boat lost.

Ezra was, as he had said he would, running out of patience. His fingers drummed steadily along your arm where his hand rested, picking idly at the seam of your jacket and grumbling every time the river forked. Eventually the canyon walls grew so close together that the tips of the longboat’s sail would scratch and scrape the gravelly walls, knocking dark sediment down into the howling waters until it was eventually forced to a halt.

The river, furiously lashing against the canyon for eons, had carved its way into the unyielding stone, plunging into the dark heart of the moon and well beyond where light feared to tread. Jagged outcroppings hung like waiting teeth from the cavern’s mouth, hungry for any who dare enter.

You swallowed thickly around a dry tongue, wishing you had the aurelac on hand to double check your heading, but as much as you didn’t want to venture into that abysmal hole, you knew in your heart of hearts that this was the way to go.

“Are you certain of this?” Ezra asked you in a whisper, a slight twinge of doubt added to his twang. You nodded, and, surprised that he would trust you so easily, directed the longboat as close to the cavern as it could get. Along the edges of the river ran a thin ledge where the water had once flowed higher but slower, just wide enough for carefully calculated steps. Ezra demanded a handful of crew to come with him, with the last one in charge of keeping watch over Fiona and Til. “Hawkins, you’re with me.”

“How exactly do you expect me to walk with my hands tied-”

The cyborg cut you off with a growl, hauling you roughly to your feet and practically tossing you out of the boat onto the ledge. Wet with spray, the granite was slick and dangerous, made worse by your lack of arms, but Ezra was quick to follow. “Hold still.” Gripped by your wrists, you were tugged backwards against your instinct to flee from the sound of his blade, and were suddenly surprised by the feel of him cutting through your ropes. He leaned in close, scraping the sensitive skin of your ear with his cheek, the sound of his teeth parting sending a shiver down your spine. “Do not make me regret this, starling.”

Pins and needles spiked through your fingertips when the ropes fell away, and you reflexively brought them back in front of you, rubbing at your bruised wrists. Whatever. The longboat was dismissed, floating back up to the top of the canyon with your friends, leaving you alone with Ezra and his men. As it abandoned your search party you could hear Tillie yowling up a storm, demanding to be taken along to see the fabled aurelac queen.

“Are you absolutely fucking kidding me!? I came all this way to see - don’t you tell me to calm down, Fiona! No! I’m a fucking zoologist you sons of bitches!! You don’t even have to untie me! Just let me watch!! At least take my camera!!! HAWKIIIINSS!!!”

Sorry, Til.

Ezra swallowed his doubts and cycled his wrist appliances to the flame thrower, producing a low blaze to illuminate the way into the dark. What little daylight filtered down from between the canyon walls vanished within a few steps, reducing your world to the shadow of the cyborg before you, and the dewy, fear-filled eyes and uncertain steps of the pirates that followed behind.

Firelight danced over the jagged ceiling as you made the descent, reflecting off the wet stone and fast-flowing rapids thundering mere meters from where you so carefully tread. You tried to focus on where Ezra walked, following in his peg-legged footsteps. If there was a slipperier spot, he would be the first to go.

Or, so you thought.

-crack...splish!-

“Shh!” Ezra hissed for silence, a finger in the air. The firelight danced in his dark eye as he looked for the source of the noise, his ears turned both ways down the tunnel.

….-crick… cRaCK!-

Behind you there was suddenly shouting, the tumble of boulders, the hungry splash of the water swallowing the landslide down as the path behind you collapsed. Clawed hands and gaping mouths broke the illuminated circle of the rapids before vanishing further down the void, taking the pirate’s terrified screams with them.

Rock bit into your back as you were forced against it, watching in horror as half of the designated crew were lost. You waited with ears perked, breath bated for any sound that they had made it to some kind of safety, but you were only met with the roaring of the rapids and the thundering of your heart.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

The affirmation came as a slight surprise, but when you looked down you found you weren't held to the wall by your own volition. Ezra’s strong arm had you pinned as far away from the ledge as he could get you, his eye watching for more of the path to give way. He swallowed a lump in his throat when none presented themselves, and finally met your eyes.

His expression was soft, caring, worried for a moment, a split second of the genuine charmer you had been growing your affections for. The man that snuck you sweets and seared lingering touches on your skin that followed you back to your bunk at night. A man who kissed like it was his last day alive, and loved you when he was certain that it was.

And then he was gone, the creases of his face hardening in a serious scowl, a pirate and a cutthroat once again. Releasing you from his protective grip, he grumbled something about being more careful to the remaining crew, and resumed his journey into the void.

It felt like forever that you were trudging through the dark, your feet becoming accustomed to the slick stone in a way that was more dangerous than helpful, but you made it all the way to where the river ended and split your path in two. On one fork the water dove into the rock, tumbling away towards the center of the moon for all you knew; and the other led away into a dryer cave. With no other choice to make, Ezra plowed down the waterless walkway, a sigh of relief bouncing back to you now that he had more room to walk.

His relief was short lived though, for as the tunnel continued to widen it also started to split. Narrow fissures shot off from your protective halo of torchfire, growing in size every few meters until they were full blown caverns large enough to walk through, and soon they were all that were left of your path - the wheel of fortunes’ spokes as seen from the axle.

Ezra raised his fist, halting your spelunking expedition. He quirked an eyebrow at you, his single eye fixing you with a ‘Well? Now what?’

You spun slowly, taking in each new trail and trying to remember what the map had shown, but as best you could remember it had all been surface level. The river marker, the bends in the forest, the waterfall and the meadow, lush jungle and sprawling canyons, a cavern that you’d expected to be the lair -those you remembered. But nothing like this.

You were just as in the dark as he was.

“Hawkins…” Ez growled, realizing that your double-takes were not just for the picturesque scenery. He flashed that wolfish, dangerous grin of his, a beast in his own dark den greeting prey that had so foolishly wandered through. “I’m not seein’ any aurelac. Actually, I’m not seein’ any anything, except… you. You didn’t just lead us down this hole for the fun of it, did you now?”

Maybe. “No! Not like you can see anything anyway. Give me a moment to think.”

The fire from Ezra’s blazer flared brighter with his agitation, sending shadows flying around the cave. “And why is that exactly? That my vision has been reduced to such a state?”

“Uh I don’t know, maybe because you were going to murder everyone and take over the ship? Ring any bells, metal man?” You jabbed a finger in his broad chest, storming up to him with no restraint. “Don’t make me take the other one out as well!”

He glowered down at you, his remaining eye darker than the void you were consumed by, flashing with the hellfire sputtering from his mechanical arm. “Don’t you threaten me, Hawkins!” He bellowed with a wave of fire, nearly incinerating one of the pirates in the process. “If you’ve sent us on a wild goose chase then so help me I’ll insure that you and daddy dearest meet together sooner rather than-”

The wave of his arm made the firelight sputter just a moment, a faction of a second that let the dark in closer. It’d been held back by the searing flames, but oh how it ached to reach you, to brush your skin and drag icy fingers down your spine, claim you for the inevitable abyss where it would never have to let you go. In that short moment between the light and dark the sunless void took its opportunity greedily, enveloping you in its shadowy embrace and leaning in close enough to whisper a secret in your ears.

Look.

“Ezra shut up and turn your light out.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Turn it off!”

The cyborg snarled at you, his teeth flashing in the glow, furious that he was being ordered around in front of his remaining men, but you were steadfast; and try as he might to put on a ferocious front, the way you stared him down, reduced him from a monster to nothing more than a man, made his heart ache for you.

Reluctantly he obeyed, the bright and hopeful glow of his flame winking out of existence, replaced by a void so black and barren that your soul swore it had been taken to the underworld. You blinked a moment in the abyss, reaching out unconsciously for something to ground yourself on, and found Ezra’s warm body right where you expected it to be. His hand found yours, pulling you close enough that you could feel the warmth of his chest, the slight hitch of his breath giving away his surprise at your touch.

You waited for your eyes to adjust, the darkness behind your lids seeming to hide just a bit more light than the world around you. It was a moment, a few seconds stolen in pitch black privacy, and Ezra took them greedily. You felt the heat of his breath before you felt the touch of his lips, missing your own completely to land on your cheek. Before you could turn and tell him to blow it out his ass, he recalculated and caught your lips, pressing you into a searing kiss.

And damn it straight to hell did it feel good.

The light scratch of his bristles, the plush of his lips, the faint brush of eyelashes when he closed his eye - uselessly still open. His human hand snuck to the small of your back, his hot-iron right kept safely away, but you he wanted to keep close. He inhaled with you, stole your breath for himself - the thief - savoring your shared air in the pocket dimension that had been willed into existence for the two of you alone.

This man made you so angry. He was dangerous, reckless, a literal pirate and mutininer, and yet you gladly melted into him, returning the desire for his kiss with your own. In that quickly stolen moment you felt his entire charade dissipate, writing his truth against your lips. Want and willingness, desire and desperation and something deeper. Something that he kept under tight lock and key when the eyes of others were on you, but still screamed at him from his very core, exploding from its cage in these private little moments like his heart was made of fireworks.

For him, there could be no darkness, as long as he had your light.

“Oi! I seeya lioght down tha tunnal!” One of the pirates chirped, obliterating the quiet tranquilty of your secret embrace. You both opened your eyes and saw it to be true: the faintest illumination coming from what seemed an eternity away, but it was there nonetheless.

You felt more than saw Ezra turn down to you, and heard the crack of his chapped lips splitting into a grin. “Well done, Hawkins. You may yet live to see another day.”

The light came first from the rocks themselves, sprawling swaths of lichen glowing with a soft, otherworldly light - stars twinkling in the twilight zone between the stygian darkness of the cavern and the green-grey daylight filtering from somewhere far away.

You had to shield your eyes as you stepped out of the tunnel even though the light was nowhere near as strong as the surface world, but nearly blinded you nonetheless. With your eyes partially covered, you focused on your other senses, with one in particular coming up front and center on your brain-stage.

Stinky.

Wherever you were headed into reeked of sulfur and brimstone, carrying on the cool cavern air, and if it wasn’t for the pleasant subterranean temperatures you would have sworn you were walking right into an active volcano. When your pupils were brave enough, you let your hand down from your face, blinking as you took in your new surroundings cautiously; a faint gasp escaping your lips at the sight.

“Stars above…”

From high, high above you the light of day shone through the mouth of some crater, a near-perfect circle hidden from the surface by the swaying trees, their roots dangling and dripping into the conical grotto you stood in now. Mineral-rich water trickled and fell for hundreds of feet before landing in the center of the caldera, carving a shallow basin over thousands of years and inviting growth from the surface world to thrive.

Obsidian soil crunched wetly under your boots as you walked into the sanctuary, not watching your step, your eyes too wonderstruck to look down. Thick greenery seemed to grow in piles, mossy and rich, sprawling over the bottom of the grotto and climbing up the walls, reaching for the elusive sunlight reflecting in enormous quartz crystals soaring from the hexagonal basalt walls.

All you saw was beautiful and natural, sculpted by Kevva xerself with more love and adoration than any single star, but in the center of it all something artificial desecrated this holy ground.

Were it not for its obvious straight lines and perfectly machined surfaces, the rusty, overgrown object could have been part of the scenery. It jutted up from the lush green like a middle finger to its surroundings, standing lazily on jointed legs like a drunk that should have gone home hours ago, arguing with the cosmic bartender about last call.

Pretty as it all was, the rank odour was stronger here, making you crinkle your nose. You weren’t really sure what fresh aurelac smelled like, but if it smelled anything like rotten eggs and metallic earth, then you were getting close. Ezra seemed unphased by whatever that stink was, starstruck as he took everything in. He sauntered right past you, trudging through the rivulets of water peacefully carving through the stone towards one of the more lumpy moss mounds. Here, he knelt into the soil and brushed the plush foliage away, and, after a rib-shakingly sharp inhale, he burst into laughter.

“You have got to be shittin’ me!” His baffled roar carried through the volcanic amphitheater, echoing with his own personal laugh track. He leapt up on unsteady legs and plowed towards a second lump, digging happily through the dirt with another excited holler. When he turned around to look at you his face was the picture of delight, big bright eye and an even wider smile crinkling his cheeks. “Aurelac! It’s all aurelac!!”

The remaining pirates flew past you like labradors set loose on the beach, joining their cyborg captain in celebration. A few of them surrounded Ezra to watch him extract the priceless gemstone, but a pair of deviants went right for their own mound. Before Ez could stop them they were plunging their swords into the fleshy growth, eager to get their own share of the bounty.

A meaty slice, a screeching hiss, roars of pain and agony, then silence consumed the cathedral of basalt and brimstone as the overly-ambitious treasure seekers met their deaths in the acidic spray vomited up by the ground dwelling beast.

Ezra only sighed and rolled his eye at the melted faces of his once-crew, their corpses twitching on the warm earth. “If you don’t seduce her properly then she will retaliate with ‘er most wretched defenses, as all women do. Isn’t that right, Hawkins?” He purred with a leer, grinning like a fox at your disgruntled huff. “Worry not, I am a firm believer that no love is too intimidatin’ if’n it be true.”

He settled up to the closest mound and drew his blade, tapping the hollow exterior and listening for the best entry point to carve into. As soon as he made the incision, he poured something from one of his canisters down the hole and covered his face with his coat. “Chem calms the brine, without it, a dry breach will make its claim. Preferably of limbs or life.”

“That how you lost your arm, cyborg?”

“Alas, it was not. Pay ‘tention now.” The aurelac sizzled and squelched for a bit before falling silent, bidding Ezra’s claws into the open wound to retrieve the gem sack. “Oh. Oh Kevva it’s a big one...” He strained a bit, grunting loudly as he tore the opelesent bag from the ground.

It was massive.

“I-I didn’t know they got this big…” he nearly whispered to the bag that was almost as big as his head. He went through the same procedure to remove the meat ball from the center, once again hesitating to make his cuts. “Hawkins, as much as it pains my pride, I do believe I will require assistance.”

There was no room for witty retorts or snide remarks, the object of your quest being so generously presented to you. You knelt in the loam with Ezra, “What do you need me to do?”

“That’s my starling.” He boasted softly, giving you a one-eyed wink. He fished a right-hand glove from his pocket and handed it to you. “The stone is encased in three layers. The first is the formation sack, then the blister, then the membrane. If the blister is punctured it releases carrom acid, and if that comes into contact with the gem it’ll melt and fuck the whole thing sideways. Keep her steady for me’n I’ll free her from her confines.”

Ezra held his blade with both hands, his head tilted off to the right so his bold nose wouldn’t obstruct his singular vision. Worrying his lip between his teeth, he began cutting around the ball, his knife vibrating with the same seductive frequency that had coaxed lucrative treasures from you as well. So that’s what it’s for.

“That’s it, hold it like you love it…” He rounded the ball successfully, nodding at you to pull the empty carcass away while he retrieved another canister, this one of a reddish fluid. “This is fazer, if it touches meat it’ll blow us all to Kevva’s sweet embrace faster’n a bullet to the brain. So I’ll uh, try not to spill.” He dribbled some of the rusty liquid onto the cream-colored glob, humming some indistinct shanty to himself in his excitement, and you couldn’t help but feel it too.

Slowly but surely the tissue fell away, revealing the lemon-sized gemstone and eliciting a unified collection of gasps from everyone present.

It was perfect. Clear as glass with a drop of aurellian sunshine glittering in its heart, the sparkle matching the gleam of Ezra’s eye. “Congratulations, Hawkins. You may have very well made us the richest bunch’a miscreants in the entire known sector. I knew there was a good reason to keep you kickin’.” He pocketed the stone and rose from the ground, dusting himself off and handing trays and canisters to the few crewmates that remained. “Start harvestin’, and under no circumstances may you deviate from my method, lest you plan on joinin’ your face-down friends o’er yonder.”

You waited until the pirates had eagerly dashed out of earshot, loaded down with more gear than brain cells. “You’re brave to trust them with that, Ez.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps, but my eye is givin’ me a helluva fight tryna operate this arm of mine. Need to see to it.” He reached up to fuss with the hole under his bandage, but you stopped him, your hand carefully catching his mechanical wrist.

“Do you want me to take a look at it? I still have two eyes.”

The smile on this man was the kind poets wrote about, soft and sincere and a little skeptical. “Lucky you, huh? Alright, since you’ve so benevolently offered your services, I shall accept.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” You chided, directing him to sit on a tall lump that could have been a boulder as much as another aurelac growth.

“Frequently. Can’t say I understand why though.” He joked, trying to hide his nerves as you approached him. He took his hat off for you, toying with the hole you’d put through it while it rested on his lap. When your hands came up to the bandage he almost jerked away. “You did quite a number on me, starling mine, I can’t promise it’ll look very-”

“Ez. Stop talking, for fucks sake.” Your scolding shushed him, and he sighed dejectedly at your touch. The ratty strip of cloth covering his eye socket was soaked in a multitude of fluids, none of them pleasant. “Damn it Ezra, this is going to get infected. You should’ve let me take care of it earlier.”

“Yes, ma’am…” He closed his remaining eye when the strip fell away, unwilling to see the disgust on your face he believed would be there, but what he didn’t see was your sadness instead. Sure, he’d deserved your attack, your very life and the life of your companions at stake, but his beautiful face was a mess, a delicate, priceless painting marred seemingly beyond repair.

The cybernetic eye was nowhere to be found, probably in his pocket, but the exposed connectors in the back of his empty orbit still needed attention.“Gimme your hand, I need the picks.” You demanded, shuffling closer to him so you were up between his knees. He swallowed and obliged, the jointed tools click click clicking from his mechanical arm. “I’m gonna try not to hurt you, but I can’t promise that I won’t. Just hold still, ok?”

He almost nodded before he agreed verbally, holding his breath while you used his own appendages to debride the wound, clearing chunky scabs and bits of ceramic away from the delicate machinery. Ezra watched you as you worked, torn between closing his eye in comfort and observing the spectacle that was his surprise field medic. Stars, you were so close, literally up between his legs, your breasts grazing his chest from time to time, and he couldn’t help the way his free arm ghosted up to your hip. The moment you felt his touch you scowled at him, but he was quick on the draw. “Just keepin’ ya steady, don’t want you to lose your balance and find my brain while you’re in there.”

“Uh huh, sure.” He was so full of crap, but you had a goal in your hands now, a mission, an objective, the drive to complete it narrowing your focus to your combined hands alone.

Ezra’s brow quirked a bit, studying the spark in your eyes while you fixed his broken face, his lip teased between his teeth as he spotted something familiar. “I recognize that glint… That light behind your eyes. It’s inherited, isn’t it?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I said I was good at fixing things, didn’t I?”

“Nah nah nah, not that, that. That determination. That spark. Brighter’n a supernova, that one. Was the same one I saw in your father’s eyes. You get it from him.”

“I don’t get shit from him! Don’t insult me while I’m digging through your eyehole.” You tried to continue, but now you were both angry and intrigued. “What do you know about him anyway? I didn’t get to know him, why did you?”

Though you were the one dangerously close to his retinal nerve, he was the one that had struck something sensitive. “Hawkins Jr. was a prospector. And a damn good one at that. Took me un’er ‘is wing and taught me all I know in regards to havestin’ aurelac, an odd recompense for shooting me, but it paid well.”

That caught you off guard in more ways than one, and you had to withdraw your tools from his head-hole to meet his subservient gaze. “He shot you?! Where?! Why?!”

“Here.” he said, tapping the humerus strut of his right arm. Your confused glare drew a soft chuckle from him. “I was just a greenhorn prospector, didn’t know the fringeling laws of the territory, and unfortunately I came across an orphaned digsite. Thought it was my lucky day, turns out it wasn’t as abandoned as I’d hoped it was. Took a bullet for it, but I managed to sweet-talk my way out of getting a second. We did our best with the wound but infection claimed my primary weapon, and spread to all you see missin’. Occupational hazard to be fair. Managed to make off with a good couple’a stones though, and your pa helped me pay for replacements.”

The cyborg chuckled nervously through your aghast stare. “Thick as thieves we were, following the rumors of aurelac across worlds, lookin’ for the fabled queen. Never found it, but he never gave up. One day he came upon that map’a yours, whether he stole it, bought it, or drew it himself I’ll never know, but suddenly he didn’t want my company anymore. Was gonna claim it all for himself.”

Ezra’s one eye looked away in shame, unable to meet your piercing inquisition. “The fallout was cataclysmic. Words and metal flew, and before he escaped in the drop ship that he’d spent all our coin on, I managed to get a shot off to her converters, cripping his ship the same way he had crippled me. Ironic, really, but he still got away. Guess he didn’t make it very far after all.”

“Guess not.” Your voice was steely and cold, level as a blade. You began working on his wound again, but he stopped you, wanting to meet your eyes with his own.

“I’m sorry, starling.”

“It’s fine Ez, I barely knew him.”

“No, it’s not fine. He may have been a traitor and a disreputable old scoundrel, but he was still your sire, and to you, his daughter, I truly am sorry for my contribution to his passing. No amount of aurelac is worth the price of life, but I’ll gladly part with all my share of the harvest if it brings you an ounce of solace to whatever grief you still carry, even if it's hidden under all that tenacious ferocity you wield so well. I will say though,” He paused, cupping your jaw, sliding the pad of his thumb along the edge, his touch radiating with pleasant warmth. “That sun-seekers’ glint looks so much better in your eyes than his.”

Ezra may have been a professional liar to his men, but to you, the unexpected light in his life, he told you no falsehoods. You saw it in his beautiful amberdark eye, and the smooth arch of his fine scar, the way the corners of his lips tugged all the crinkles of his weather-worn face into something soft and pliant. He really was sorry.

Probably for more things than one.

“S’ok Ez, let’s just get you patched up and we can figure it out later, yeah?” You pressed a soft kiss to his palm, a ghost of forgiveness that left his heart a little lighter. He gave you dominion over his prosthetic again, his human hand returning to it’s designated spot on your hip. To hold you steady, of course.

Doubling down on your efforts, you tweezed something nasty from his socket, so determined in your operation that the feeling of his fingertips slipping between the hem of your shirt and the top of your belt went unnoticed.

He couldn’t help it. The cyborg’s nervousness calmed at the feel of your skin under his fingers, the warmth of your body, the smoothness of it. He pressed in slightly, testing the give of your flesh, tracing the arch of your hip bone under the plush of your flank. Were he not undergoing such primitive surgery at the moment he might have let his thoughts wander to what else would give under his touch, where else you would spill between his fingers, how you would taste on his tongue...

“Ezra!” You hissed, snapping him from his thoughts. “I can feel your damn dick twitching. Knock it off before I kick you.”

His laugh was as sweet and innocent as the fresh light of dawn. “Apologies, starling mine, I can’t help my wanderin’ thoughts with you pressed so close.”

“Well stop your wandering for a hot minute, I’m almost done. Where’s your eyeball?” His warm touch left you finally to present you the cyberoptic. The moment you had it in your hand, Ezra’s own palm returned to your hip with much less discretion than before. You ignored him. Flecks of dried something-or-other flaked off when you brushed your thumb over the copper colored metal to clean it, knocking another mug chip or two off in the process. “Alright, keep still, and hold your socket open for me.”

You leaned against him to brace yourself, and he accepted you into his space even more willingly, tightening his thighs against yours and drawing his calloused hand up your back, encouraging you into his embrace. The softer metal scraped a bit against the iron of his fingers where he was holding himself open, a grimace twisting his scruffy face when the eyeball popped into place.

He sat back from you, blinking while the false eye went through it’s boot-up, the warm glow slowly returning as if day were breaking for his eyes alone. “Well, I’ll be damned! Hello, gorgeous, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

The pile of aurelac was nearly up to your knees within hours, all shapes and sizes of gemstones to be had and every one of them more perfect than the next. With his eye functional again, Ezra was making short work of every tumorous node he encountered with near-surgical precision and out-digging the others at breakneck speed. Must have had one hell of a mentor.

With him having everything under control, you opted to explore, enjoying the lushious sanctuary before it was pitted with harvesting wounds. The structure in the center drew your attention away from the natural scenery, and you moved to investigate.

The overgrowth was thicker here, lichen and moss giving way to soft, thin-bladed grasses that swayed in the gentle breeze coming down from the crater’s mouth. Water dripped on your head as you went, splashing gently into your hair and trickling down your back. How long had it been since you’d felt rain? It almost never did on Montressor, and you couldn’t help closing your eyes and tilting your head back, enraptured in the soft pitter patter of raindrops kissing your skin. Lost in your guilty pleasure, but still moving towards the pod, you failed to watch your step, tripping dangerously over something hidden that tore you from your aqueous indulgence to glare down at what had reached up to grab you.

Bones.

Human bones.

Whoever it was had been there a while, their clothing long decayed along with their flesh, leaving nothing but a wet, moss-covered skeleton and a scattering of metal fittings from their equipment. Shell-like mushrooms grew in their rib cage in place of their once-beating heart, crawling with all manner of invertebrate life that sought shelter in the absence of it.

You wondered if your father had shot them too.

More careful of your steps now, you approached the little ship, green and silver in the limelight of day, stripped in dark tracts of rust from ages under the drizzle. The thing was surprisingly small, it couldn’t have survived a space journey for more than a few days with barely enough room for two people, and honestly how it got through the atmosphere alone was a mystery. Its struts had sunk partially into the soft, damp earth, the first buds of a new aurelac cluster growing at its feet. It’d been here a while, but probably less than a decade, which didn’t help your suspicions.

You went for the circular bulkhead, the door mechanisms long since grown over, but with a grunt and some elbow grease you got the wheel to turn. It screeched its displeasure as you opened it, years-old pressure finally escaping its prison with a blast of fetid air. For such a pretty place, everything in this cave sure did fucking stink.

Inside the circular drop pod you immediately found a second corpse, though this one was in better shape than the one that’d been left to the elements. In their fleshless hand some kind of firearm pointed away from where they were slouched against the wall, their other hand clutching the hole in their sternum. They had retained most of their clothing, though the decrepit fabric wrinkled and sagged where flesh had once been, but the colorful patches were still as vivid as the day they’d been sewn on. None of them were familiar, though from their bright hues and easy-to-discern shapes you guessed they were sponsor logos, and though all of them were completely alien to you, one of them you unfortunately recognized: a fat, six legged creature wearing a spacesuit.

Something Ezra said clicked in your mind like a pistol’s hammer:

Words and metal flew.

“Anythin’ good in here, starling?” Ezra’s sweet southern drawl snapped you out of your concentration, the cyborg clambering in through the narrow door with a smile on his face. It vanished when he spotted the body. “Poor bastard, but that’s prospecting for you. Not everyone’s as fortunate as I was.” He glanced around the room a bit, taking in the state of things. “Looks better from the inside by a long shot. If I was a bettin’ man I’d say a lil’ bit of TLC would get this bird in the air again, or maybe just as far as the hole in the ceilin’. Be a shitload easier than haulin’ all that aurelac back through the tunnels.” He fixed you with that cockeyed grin, a flash of inspiration in his newly-repaired eye. “Think you could fix it?”

You shrugged, “Worth a shot I guess, though it’s nothing like anything I’ve ever seen on Montressor. There’s no sails on it.”

“That’s because it’s not from Montressor, or even Crescentia. It’s Terran.”

Terran!

The birthplace of your species and his. And your father’s and his father before him. You’d never been, most rumors said it wasn’t even there anymore, but humans - in their unending search for the edges of the cosmos - had settled on so many worlds that Terran would always live on in your hearts after it had long since been wiped from the star maps.

How strange it was - or, maybe how fitting - that nearly every interaction you’d had with your own kind had been thoroughly soaked in blood.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Leaving you to your own devices, Ezra fixed his sights on the largest of pods, a devious smile skewing his bristly lips. Though he’d harvested enough aurelac to last a thousand lifetimes, he didn’t come this far, sacrifice so much, to leave with anything less than the motherlode.

His canisters were running dry, but it was probably enough for one last harvest. The lump he set his sights on sprouted from the farthest wall, so full and heavy that it swelled pregnantly over the ground, alluding to the biggest root pearl ever grown.

He just had to have it.

Carving with rehearsed precision, Ezra had the queen ravaged within moments, locating the milky white bag deep within the pod. His hunch proved correct, albeit challenging, requiring two hands to pull the monstrosity free; the strain making him giggle like a school boy.

The aurelac squeaked and screamed with the intrusion, a sound the cyborg had long gone deaf to, so focused on his prize. Digging his peg and heel into the soft soil, he braced himself and hauled, throwing his weight backwards against the aurelac’s colossal heft. Kevva’s concubines the fucker must be bigger than a newborn bonzabeast.

Pop!

Ezra fell back on his ass when he finally pulled the gem sack free, nearly crushed under the slimy weight. Excitement kicked in, and he set to work on the extraction, ignoring the queen’s protests as he cut the umbilical line and plonked the pearl pouch into a field tray, the disgusting treasure so massive that it sagged over the edges.

Everything he’d ever worked for was right in his mismatched hands, the disgusting slosh of the meat bag like music to his ears. The wet fleshy sound and the hum of his blade, paired with his own tuneless humming and the imagined jingling of coin in his pocket was all he could hear, and all that he wanted to hear. A siren song of a man’s life’s work coming to fruition rendering him nearly deaf.

So he heard not the gurgling of the queen’s death throes.

Not the crackle as it withered and died, the open fissure of the wound curling into the gaping hole.

Not the faint grit of the volcanic soil slipping ever so slightly into the void created by the creature’s death.

And certainly not the faintest crack as the basalt column above the ancient animal succumbed to its own weight, moving barely a hairsbreadth, but even the smallest domino can topple the greatest kingdoms.

No, Ezra didn’t hear any of these things, too busy washing the last of the membrane off the gigantic geode with the remainder of his fazer fluid. Free of the mucky tissue, he stumbled to his feet and held the aurellian prize aloft, catching a stray sunbeam just as you had done when you revealed the map and oh, what a sight!

All eyes in the grotto turned to their captain and his prismatic light show, the basketball-sized chunk of aurelac washing every surface of the sanctuary in golden light, nearly bringing the cyborg to tears. Fuck, it was bea-utiful.

The glorious enchantment flared and faded with the sudden loss of the sun, and for the first time since tapping the queen, Ezra listened.

And looked up.

“Mother FUCKER!!”

A faint woosh was all that accompanied the massive quartz monolith as it fell, unbelievably bigger up close now that it was plummeting to the ground and heading straight for Ezra’s head. He practically danced out of the way, limbs flailing, white and bright of his eyes flashing as he scrambled to get to safety before the ten-ton crystal crashed into the earth and splintered into radiant shrapnel.

Ezra never moved so fast in his entire life, clutching the heavy aurelac to his chest as he ran from the sudden impact strike. The ground split and spiderwebbed like glass instead of stone, fracturing the delicate sanctuary into shards as more and more of the crystals came loose and toppled to the earth. Pirates desperately tried to get out of the way in time. Some succeeded, only to slip into the growing gorges that grew wider and wider with each cataclysmic strike.

As the walls crumbled around him, the cyborg bee-lined for the aurelac stash, shoveling as many into his pockets before a chunk of towering basalt toppled, nearly pressing him flat before he dodged it, obliterating the remains of the treasure.

All that work, for nothing.

“STAAARLING!! Get that damn engine going, we gotta go!!” Ezra plowed through the bulkhead of the pod, startling you out of your technical trance more than the earthquakes you’d been ignoring.

“I don’t think it can! I-I don’t have the tools to-”

“Tell me what you need! Right now!” Ezra flung himself to his knees next to where you were under the dash, his arm at the ready.

With his help you made split-second work of the wire harness under the dash that had been giving you a hard time, and the shuttle sparked to life not a moment too soon.

-*CRaSH!*-

A monumental quartz obelisk met the ruined ground, breaking through the obsidian as if it were made of ice, splintering the last of the grotto’s resolve. The pod listed dangerously to one side, tilting into the new hole to catch precariously between the edges, finally pulling the curtain back on what smelled so fucking bad.

Crimson flames licked greedily from the worlds’ wounds as the inactive volcano -long hidden by the scab of vegetation - was resurrected from the force of the impact, molten stone bubbling excitedly as demons do when the gates of hell are thrown open.

Sweaty with fire and fear, you threw switches and cranked knobs, hoping some divinity would take pity on you and guide you through the alien craft’s start up procedures on luck alone. Something other than the earth rumbled it’s fury under you, the propulsion jets sputtering to life after so many years in the grave.

You jammed down on the throttle, and the pod nicked clear of its wedging, but not enough to get it fully off the ground. “It’s too heavy! It’s not gonna make it!”

Ezra exploded in a storm of curses and hefted the skeleton out the bulkhead, along with whatever else wasn’t bolted down. It worked some, and the little pod strained away, still struggling under the weight of more than time.

But not enough.

If the pod didn’t clear the rising tide of lava, or the collapsing caldera, you were done for. Ezra’s circuits crackled as his brain did the math, meeting his own reflection in the crystalline surfaces of the aurelac gem that he’d suffered so much to get.

It was heavy.

But, so were you.

‘Throw her out’ said the demon on his shoulder, purring in his remaining ear. ‘She’s gonna turn you in anyway, and you’ll be swingin’ from the gallows in no time. Not like she cares about you. Not like she loves you! Or you her! You love money, you love aurelac! Gold and Glory! Finish what you started, Ezra Green! Take the aurelac and run!’

But Ezra never was a very good listener.

He went for the aurelac in his pockets first, hoping that just a slight lessening in weight would be all the push you needed to get to the skylight, but that did nothing. Pebbles, stones, geodes, and melon sized nuggets of glittering gold sailed out into the hellfire, vanishing under the molten tide.

Until all he was left with was the queen’s crown itself.

One last glance, one last demonic whisper, one last pining look between the two objects of his affections, of a lifelong love and a potential love for life.

Plunk!

The gemstone sank sluggishly into the hungry flames, and the effect on the pod was instantaneous, as if it had suddenly been loosed from its cage. “Hold on Ez!” You bellowed while you tried to steer with levers and fins instead of a wheel or rudder. The little microwave-sized window was all the visibility you had to dodge the incoming chunks of stone raining from above. Falling like a chandelier cut from a ballroom ceiling, the remaining quartz chunks sparkled as they fell, glass shards peppering hard against your steel exterior and nearly throwing you off course.

Now, where have you seen this before…

Breathe in.

You set your sights on the circle of sky above, on the cracks growing on either side like a sleepy giant’s eye slowly opening. Waking up to greet you before having you for breakfast.

Breathe out.

Rocks the size of houses crumbled from the crater, flying past your viewport as you threw your weight into the steering, spiralling the tiny pod between the sinking boulders.

Breathe in.

The caldera collapsed, the lava surged, all was red and black and glittering gold for less time than it took to fill your lungs. You snapped the steering to starboard right as the gargantuan gateway plunged towards gravity, the ship narrowly avoiding being swatted from the sky like nothing more than a pesky little insect.

Free of all that kept it contained, the volcano erupted in a pyroclast of scorn, sending flaming chunks of molten stone exploding past you, trailing phoenix feathers of fire in their wake.

Alarms flared, sirens screamed, and lights flashed their finality on the dashboard as the aft jets sputtered and died, pointing the pod towards the startled jungle and furious earth. With nothing left to lose, Ezra coiled his arms around you and your seat, hoping maybe his reinforced body would be enough to protect you from the coming crash.

But it never came.

Breathe out???

The skull-splitting shriek of metal being torn asunder stung your ears and made your teeth hurt, made worse by the sudden whiplash of the pod being pulled in the opposite direction. Suddenly growing from the thin titanium wall, the biggest harpoon you had ever seen went through one side of the little shuttle and out the other, swinging the shuttle down and under and over a mighty vessel like a pendulum as it was hauled against its inertia and dropped violently into something hard.

The Dawnbreaker, mighty and true, caught the pod with her deck, the monstrosity breaking halfway into the galley and spilling you and the cyborg from the durasteel coffin, landing in a heap in front of the quarterdeck and her captain.

“Tillie?! Fiona?!”

“Welcome aboard, landlubbers!” Tillie, wearing someone else's tricorn, hollered and saluted you from her position at the wheel, the ship’s true captain leaning against the harpoon thrower behind her - the old bird looking a little green. “You’re not gonna believe what happened to us! We were trussed up like hogs for the slaughter when Fiona here-”

“Incoming! Hard to port!!”

The Felinid cranked on the wheel just in time to miss a massive glob of superheated rock as it flew by, the volcano erupting violently behind you, demolishing the sanctuary, the tunnels, the river, the canyon and the meadow in a single quake. Volleys of stone shrapnel hailed against the Dawnbreaker’s sails, punching flaming holes in the delicate sailcloth and turning the deck into a pockmarked ruin.

“Get us out of here, Til!” You shrieked, muscle memory kicking into high gear and driving you to the lifeline hitchpost. You grabbed a rope for yourself and tied it off, then held one out for Ezra. “Ez! Get over here and-”

“CABIN GIRL!” The line in your hand was claimed by the spider in the web, enormous claws threatening to sever your hands from your body when they clamped around your wrists. You felt your blood drain when you were met with the most horrendous pair of big yellow eyes and a mouth full of saliva-slicked fangs. Mr. Skarn towered over you on many-jointed legs, forcing you backwards as he overpowered you. “Where’sss the aurelac?! Give it to me and I might let you-!”

-*BANG!*-

The monster blinked, confusion written in his heinous eyes and leaking from the fresh new hole between them. The tension on your wrists lessened and fell away as Mr. Skarn crumpled to the ground, revealing the figure behind him, firearm smoking from his wrist.

“Never did like that bug much.” Ezra drawled, blowing at the barrel before swapping his prosthetic for his jointed hand. “You alright, starling mine?”

You made to answer when the shifting of the ship stole all the air from your lungs, throwing you hard to starboard as acting-captain Tillie Doppler veered hard on the wheel to avoid the ground coming up to meet you, the moon thrashing its death throes like a drowning victim not wanting to go down alone. You hit the deck, your lifeline snapping hard around your middle, constricting the last of your breath from your lungs but keeping you lashed safely to the ship.

Ezra was not so lucky.

The roll dislodged the Terran pod free from its crater in the deck, tumbling with the pitch of the ship and taking its harpoon line with it as it rolled towards the edge. The cable whipped across the wood - a furious serpent spitting venom and fury - catching Ezra’s iron leg before the pod vanished over the side.

He had a split second to drive his claws into the deck, carving gouges in the wood as he was dragged overboard, the iron in his body the only thing keeping him from being ripped in half as the line snapped taut, leaving the cyborg dangling over the edge, held by nothing but his unyielding grip.

“Ezra!” you screamed and flew to him, digging your heels into the guardrails and pulling with all your might on his cybernetic arm - only part of him you could reach. “Give me your other hand!!”

Ezra, eyes wide with fear and pain, looked from his captured leg to the swinging pod, then up to where his arm was lodged in the Dawnbreaker’s hull, and finally to you. He couldn’t sever the line without his blade, and if the shuttle caught on the trees it would rip the Dawnbreaker from the sky, or rip him in half trying.

There could be no other way.

The fear on his face was replaced with something softer under his wind blown curls and suddenly-missing hat, the ratty tricorn succumbing to the raging storm building over the volcano. One eye a ray of sunshine, the other a sparkling pool of dark earth, met your own with all the placidity of a willing sacrifice approaching the altar.

And suddenly you’d never known as much terror as you did right now.

His scruffy lips quirked, a flash of a smile, a small, gentle laugh inappropriate for such a precarious situation, but nothing ever looked so good on him as the face he had now, his eyes laying lastly on the most beautiful visage he’d ever had the fortune of setting his gaze upon:

You.

“Shine bright, starling mine.”

In a last act of human decency, his free hand came up and dug into his armpit, unfettering his prosthetic from his body. Then he was hurtling to the ground, leaving his arm buried in the hull while the pod dragged him down to certain death, leaving the Dawnbreaker to speed off towards the stars and far away from the dying moon.

And then he was gone.

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#ezra prospect #prospect 2018 #treasure planet #pedro pascal #ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #ezra x f!reader #ezra x self insert #crossover #solisequious

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monica-tailor · 4 years

Text

Dylan had always noticed Ren. How could he not - with those gold eyes like the ornate edges of the pretty plates that the Sinclairs used for special occasions, like the gilded doorknobs he was always hesitant to touch whenever his father sent him inside to borrow something from the kitchen maids, afraid to leave a smudge; her hair a lovely shade of red only seen in fresh rose petals or sweet redcurrant preserves. He noticed her the same way he noticed how beautifully the grass glimmered in the morning, covered in dew and dawnlight, or how evenfall painted the sky with all the colors of the Sun.

*******

There were guests at the Sinclair home, once. That day, Dylan was given a thoroughly-ironed set of clothes, a watering can, and an order to make sure not a single leaf on a single plant in the house so much as thought of wilting.

He was running around the Sinclair manor unsupervised, unnoticed by the guests and hosts both, and that’s why he noticed that the two boys who came with the visitors had been hounding one of the younger maids whenever the grown-ups weren’t looking. She was shivering, the poor thing, and the boys’ twin smiles were cold and cruel, their words low but cutting at the girl like ice. Dylan’s own hands were trembling too, and not just from the weight of the watering can.

Fortunately, he was not the only one watching. A pair of eyes, glinting yellow like those of the cat that Dylan occasionally notices stalking through the garden on the prowl for mice.

Then, when another cup of freshly boiled tea ‘accidentally’ spilled right on the girl’s shoes-

“Stop that! How dare you?“

Dylan could only watch as Ren swooped down at the two boys - both older than her, both bigger than her, but they flinched all the same as she rushed at them, in her radiant dress the color of coltsfoot, eyes blazing, hair a conflagration. The adults managed to separate them, eventually, but not before Ren got a few good hits in, blooming on the boys’ faces like mottled geraniums, and earned a few on her own face, too.

Dylan didn’t let the boys leave unscathed either; an accidental spill of water here, a well-aimed splash of mud there as the guests departed and Dylan was gone with a Terribly sorry m’lords! before anyone could give chase. He caught Ren’s eye then, saw a mirthful flicker looking back, all of that incandescence aimed at him only, and in that moment Dylan understood, for a split second, why a lit flame captivates the eye even as it destroys all it touches, and why flowers turn their heads to follow the golden warmth of the Sun.

All these truths, far too big for a child’s heart to hold.

********

Too big for a child’s heart - but not for a man’s.

********

Years down the line, they see each other again.

He sees her, hair the color of heartsblood, eyes brazen and glinting with unshed tears, and as they fall into each other’s arms as surely as two blooms on one branch colliding gently in a breeze, he sees all he saw in her so long ago and more besides:

he sees how a fire can both sustain and burn -

and why grains turn a lustrous yellow and fruits a luscious red under the Sun’s balmy touch -

and why all in the world stirs to life as soon as it rises, swathing woods and fields and towering mountains in its tender embrace.

#moni writes #had to get this outta my head #even if it's a half-baked mess #look I was obsessing over how beautiful lauren is and projected it onto dylan to feel less weird about it XD

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thesongofsaturn · 4 years

Text

the arbiter’s embrace

there’s a space in the darkness of a room at night

that, in the folds, an eye looks out of

a hungry predator of most precarious dreams

that, in truth, afeared of tooth and

nail and claw comes into being, then falls away

as morning dew.

a whirlwind of fire scaling the side

of an old house, nearly lived in,

sitting in a photograph of phantasms.

and to the morning light, the scrying bird calls

and in the depth of her song, sits

an eye, unlidded, open.

the dawnlight brings the cat called frost,

her toes forlorn upon a memory,

a footprint in the grass,

and she, both killed and kept by her curiosity

is ushered away in the

sound of a collar bell, her captured cousin’s fancy,

and returns her into sleep.

and in that rest,

an eye.

the moons a butterfly

kept in a glass box of secrets with

a lock of death’s hair and a gathering of baby’s breath;

the final feast of a child’s nightmare.

and to the cold, cold chill, a mouse of daybreak

falls again into the clutches of shadow,

and its death, another eye

a gaze that dreams and is dreamed of

only lies

and in those lies

sits me

“beware of fire, woman of words”

the cowbird surely sings,

“for you are just a paper doll

held up on paper strings.”

#poem #poetry

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elernia · 4 years

Note

Of all the certain uncertainties, I am unsure whom to apologize too, it is not you or I, but still I am sorry I lost myself along my path. If only I had stayed true to myself. if only I knew the catastrophic threat. For poetry's sake, and to say it in rhyme: I'd still have you and no regrets. You remain an eternal inspiration like a twinkling star in the darkness, or sunlit dew, glistening in the dawnlight, in a glade on the grasses. Stay you, stay beautiful!

Who is this? Show yourself anon.

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traditional-with-a-twist · 6 years

Text

The Garden of Dreams

<<Previous

series masterpost: The Beast with the Beautiful Face

Dawnlight floated through the glass to kiss the dew on the leaves and scatter the colors of the garden. A breeze outside stirred the branches so quietly it left the early morning hush unbroken. The trees cast sparkling shadows over Shirayuki’s hair, suffusing it with a glow of its own.

She knelt under the blanket of shade, brushing her fingers over clusters of seeds and tugging gently to see if they came willingly to her hand before letting them shower into her basket.

Obi drifted closer, watching her slow, dreamlike movements with untiring attention.

When the mound of seeds reached the basket’s rim, he bent over her elbow to slide a new basket into place.

Shirayuki started, eyes widening as her “Oh” of surprise puffed across his face.

Obi gave her a lazy grin. “You were about to spill these, miss,” he chided, drawing the full basket away.

She blinked, withdrawing into herself. “O-oh. Thank you, Obi.” Her brow creased as she turned back to her plants.

Obi set the seeds aside and settled on the greenhouse floor just behind her. He could see her sneaking glances at him as she continued her gathering. He kept his gaze on the tense line of her shoulders.

The sound of the castle waking filtered to them through the cloud of early morning quiet, muffled into a slow song to accompany the sunrise. The sunlight brushed Shirayuki’s cheek as she stretched to reach a distant cluster.

Seeds cascaded into the basket, shiny and fat. Shirayuki sat back with a sigh of victory--then stiffened when she felt Obi brush against her.

That was enough, Obi decided, shifting his weight to pull back.

Shirayuki peeked over her shoulder at him, peering around the fall of her hair. Her eyes were soft.

Obi hesitated then let himself settle back into place. His lips curled up without his permission.

Shirayuki’s gaze fell back to the garden but her back relaxed so that her thigh touched Obi’s knee again, like a butterfly alighting on a flower.

The greenhouse door slammed open. “Shirayuki!”

“Chief Pharmacist!” Shirayuki tried to stand and stumbled over her skirts, as if she had forgotten their existence. “Ah--s-sorry, did you need--?”

Garack stopped in the doorway, gaze sweeping over the floundering princess until it met Obi’s where he was still crouched watchfully in her shadow.

Garack took a breath, as if steeling herself; then she strode forward. “Everyone in the castle has been looking for you since sunup!”

Shirayuki blinked, shaking her head slowly. “Every….one?”

Garack crossed her arms, brow furrowed as she leaned over to study Shirayuki. “The first prince will be leaving soon.”

“He...will…?” Shirayuki turned her head, gazing to the left as if she expected someone to be there.

Garack straightened, and her expression set. “Are you ready to see him off?” She cleared her throat. “Your Highness?”

Shirayuki inhaled sharply, snapping back to face her. The light nesting in her hair fled all at once, leaving her pale and shadowed. “Oh… Yes. Of course.” Her hands found her skirts and clutched them.

Obi was on his feet. “I’ll get her there, right away, Chief Pharmacist!” He gave a half salute, then put a hand to Shirayuki’s elbow.

She followed willingly in his wake as he guided her around Garack.

Obi didn’t break eye contact with Garack even as her passed her, keeping the Chief Pharmacist in his periphery view.

Her eyes met his, mouth tight. For a moment he thought that she would chase after Shirayuki.

Then the glass door closed between them.

Obi let his hand fall to Shirayuki’s back as they stepped into the noise of the morning, leaving her overturned basket behind.

#Akagami no Shirayukihime #obiyuki #The Beast with the Beautiful Face #PurePassion #after a brief hiatus #welcome back #to painful beginnings

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the-gedonelune-times · 6 years

Text

The Fear Of Losing You pt. 2

Hellooo my lovelies! Part two is officially up, I hope you all enjoy it as this miniseries is actually quite fun for me. Part three should be up within a couple of days and it will feature multiple point of views, this will include two other oc’s who have made their appearance, along with Klaus and two {maybe three other wizardess heart boys}. it’s something that sounds fun and wanted to try, so I hope you’ll stick around to read the rest! love you all! xoxoxo

Two days remain, before the big day, and Nadia is overwhelmed with a flurry of emotions. With the final exam taking place today, will she be able to pass, or will she crash and burn?

Ten minutes had passed before I finally decided to get up and get ready for classes. My movements were slow and sluggish, from getting into the shower, to getting dressed and fixing my hair, I moved around as if I was an undead zombie. I sighed after I finished making my bed, then, after grabbing my cloak, I stumbled out of the dorm.

The sound of laughing and indistinct chatter, brought me out of my mood, I had to be happy. I straightened my back and took a deep breath, a forced smile was plastered on my face. As usual Amelia was the first one to notice and she called my name, motioning me to her table at the dining hall.

"Are you doing alright?" Amelia's voice was soft as she asked, almost like she was trying to whisper some secret. "I'm as well as can be expected" my face had a smile, but my tone sounded sad. Right away Amelia knew something was wrong and excused herself and I from the table, she then grabbed my hand and dragged me along the hallway, away from the dining hall entrance.

"It's Klaus isn't it?" "It doesn't concern you Amelia" my voice sounded a little more cold than it should have been and Amelia's eyes started to glisten, like the glass of a porcelain doll, a single tear, rolled down her cheek. Silence filled the hallway and neither of us said a word for a good few moments, "Amelia....I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that, I'm just....I'm just torn right now" I sighed as I let my back slide down the wall.

Amelia joined me and I could hear a sigh escape her lips "I'm sorry too Nadia, I shouldn't have just dragged you out here. It's just that, I've been so worried about you since yesterday, it's not like you to be so sad. It worries me and makes me sad seeing you like this."

It was my turn to let out a sigh "I promise Amelia, I'll be alright, besides, it's true, I'm not supposed to be sad like this. I can't let this get me down, I need to be happy, not just for myself, but for Klaus too". Amelia flashed me a soft smile before getting up and holding her hand out for me. I gladly took hold of Amelia's hand and was pulled up. We then walked back towards the dining hall, chatting as we did. once we arrived, there was a hushed sort of silence between everyone.

Taking our seats, Amelia and I looked at each other curiously, as if one of us had the answer for what was going on at the moment. Melody made her way to our table and shifted her gaze between the both of us. "Are you alright Melody? Do you know why everyone is acting so strange now?" I wanted to know the answers and as soon as possible. The silence was getting more creepy as time passed. "Everyone could hear shouting....we thought things could have gotten out of hand." Melody answered back in her usual soft hushed tone.

I tilted my head to the side a little and looked at her "what do you mean by 'gotten out of hand exactly?", "we thought it might have gotten physical". A gasp escaped Amelia's mouth once Melody said that, "oh goodness no! I could never ever hurt Nadia". Amelia's voice boomed amongst the eerie silence. "The same goes for me, I would never hurt Amelia, she's my very best friend." I let out a sigh before continuing, "I've just had a lot on my mind, it's making so confused and stressed out."

Melody already knew what I was talking about and gently patted my back "I can't imagine what you're feeling right now....I know you have so much on your mind. But we are friends for a reason you know". Amelia immediately chimed in with a bright smile "Melody is absolutely right! We're here to support you, when you have a problem or need to talk, we'll always have time to listen." The smile on my face came naturally, I truly felt happy to know that I had people to count on. But at the same time, I felt bad that I had worried them. "Thank you both, I really appreciate it and I promise, I'll come to you guys when I feel down."

We all giggled and continued talking and soon, the whole dining hall was filled with giggles and chatter. After breakfast, I walked to the courtyard with Melody and Amelia, "hey Nadia?" "Yeah Amelia?" Amelia put a finger to her lips, as if she was searching for what to say. "Classes will be done a little earlier today, because of the exams. Are you going to spend that free time with Klaus?". "Well....I was hoping to, but he still has a few things to do before he graduates. I don't know if he'll be free today." Melody was the next to chime into the discussion "well, tomorrow is a weekday, sometime they let a few students take that day to go to the town. Maybe you could talk to the Headmaster and see if he could give you a slip, to allow you to head into town."

A squeal came out of Amelia's mouth and I jumped a little, "ohhh! You and Klaus could go and have a date in town! Oh there's a cute sweets shop in the center! I'll help you with your hair and everything!" Amelia's sparkled and shined like a star in the night sky, I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. She always seemed so happy when it came to these types of things. "If we do go on the date, I'll make sure to come to you Amelia".

Throwing her fist in the air, Amelia looked like she had won a trophy, her enthusiasm was always adorable and made me laugh at times. Apparently I wasn't the only one who thought so, because Melody, who had remained quiet for a while, began laughing, which in turn, led us all to break out into a laughing mess. We reached the middle of the courtyard and saw a good number of students, in one big circle. "This is my stop" "it is Melody?", Melody gave a soft nod and stared in silence at the ground.

"Is something wrong Melody?" "This is where my class will be having final exams...." Her voice was in her usual shy tone, but this time....there was something different. Her voice had something lingering within it....it was sadness, but I couldn't understand why. I was about to ask her, but I was best to it by Amelia. "You sound so sad Melody, is it because of finals, or something else?". Quickly using her sleeve, she rubbed her cheek, as if brushing something away. "it's just that..... it's not a professor giving us the exams, it's Nova....and she's going to be so busy during the weekend. I won't really be able to see her much until her graduation".

My heart ached for Melody, Nova was her absolute best friend, I reached my hand out, to give her a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but off in the distance, the warning bell rang. "Nadia, we have to hurry up and get to our classes, or we'll be late! I can't afford to have points being deducted because I was tardy and neither can you." Amelia was right, we both couldn't afford to lose any points, but I wanted to stay and talk to Melody more. "Melody, come meet us near the spring for lunch today, alright?", giving a soft nod, Melody ran towards the rest of her class, I sighed, hoping that she would be okay.

Amelia and I had ran to our classes, briefly saying good luck to each other, before entering the rooms. "Miss water, I see you have made my class just in time. I was afraid I would have to mark you as tardy or absent. Now take a seat and get prepared". I let out a sigh and looked around for an empty seat "if you would like, you may sit by us". Cerim gave off a soft smile and I in turn did the same, before taking a seat between him and Elias.

I let out a sigh as I sat down, if Schuyler was the one giving the exams, then I knew it would be hell for me, he was known for his strict tests. A feeling of uncertainty washed over me as I realized that I might have a little trouble with the exams. "Aperio" with a shout and a flick if his wand, professor Schuyler casted a spell, the tops of our desks glowing as potion materials appeared before our eyes. Great, just great.....potion making, another sigh escaped my lips, I wasn't exactly good at potions, but I wasn't bad at it either, the fear of failing had found its way within my mind. The seed was planted and I gulped in fear, if I failed this exam, I could be held back a year.

"Miss water!" The sound of a fist slamming on my desk, brought me out of my trance. "This is a classroom, you are here to learn, not dream! So refrain from entering whatever fantasy land you've conjured up and start your exam!." Schuyler's booming voice caused me to flinch a little, I almost knocked over one of the beakers. Looking over at the potion options, I decided to make "Solstice" a potion, when drank or placed on an object, would engulf it in a bright light, almost as bright as day. Many wizards and wizardess who loved the thrill of adventures, would use it for when exploring caves or while traveling around at night. It's a simple yet intricate potion, one that I believed would be perfect for me. As I went through the bag of ingredients that lied beside my equipment, I pulled out the things I needed. "Okay, now I need three pieces of evergreen grass, four newly blossomed sunflower petals, two drops of dawnlight dew and the pollen of a dandelion. I also need to fill up 1/3 of the beaker, with crystal spring water."

Following the directions, I filled up the beaker to the 1/3 mark, the water shimmered and shined like a crystal in sunlight. I then smashed up the dandelion, which now looked like a big blob of yellow paint, and put it into a small granite bowl. With it, I cut the evergreen grass into small pieces, throwing them into the dandelion mixture. The color itself started turning to a lighter green color, it looked like the inside of a lime. I then added the sunflower petals and then lastly, the dawnlight dew. Mixing it all together, the mixture color, was an orange hue, if done correctly, when the contents of the bowl, touch the beaker, then the color will turn to a bright golden glow. I held my breath as I poured the contents in. Although it may not have been showing on the outside, deep down, I was freaking out. As I watched the beaker, nothing was happening, my heart sank and I clenched my fist, not wanting to show my weakness, even though I wanted to just drop down and cry right there on the spot.

Schuyler was making his rounds, making marks on a clipboard, after analysing a completed exam. Inching closer and closer, I knew he would be disappointed that I couldn't even do such a simple potion....Klaus would be disappointed even more so. Just then, a bright light engulfed my beaker, shielding my eyes from the initial blast of light, I could see that it worked, a creeped on my face and it only got bigger.

“I do not know why you are smiling so stupidly for, Miss Water” a voice over to my left side caused me to jump a little in surprise. Gulping softly I took a step back, while professor Schuyler examined my project, “it seems like the potion is functional, however we shall put it to the test.” Taking the tip of his pen, he dipped it into the beaker’s contents, he then pulled out a dark handkerchief and placed it over the pen. As he did that, I could feel my heart racing and the palm of my hands get sweaty. At first nothing happened, but a moment later, a bright light emitted underneath the handkerchief. Without saying a word Schuyler scribbled down on his clipboard, then proceeded to make his way down the row.

Elias, who of course was already done with his project, placed a hand on my shoulder, before whispering. “I wouldn’t get so worked up Nadia, the potion worked, if I had to take a guess, I would say that you passed with flying colors.”. I felt my shoulders slump slightly as I tried to relax “thanks Elias” he flashed me a kind smile before mouthing “no problem”. The next half hour was a painful waiting game, I know Elias told me not to worry, but my mind told me otherwise, I had so many emotions running through me, that I couldn’t even begin to think straight.

“Aperio!” Scguyler’s voiced snapped me back to reality and I found myself staring at the floating sheet in the air, in the front of the room. “I want you all o make a single file line as you go to see your grades. Remember, failing this exam can result in you either taking summer classes, or cause you to be held back.” “Oh goodness...” I mumbled softly as I could feel a knot in my stomach, as I moved closer and closer to the grade sheet in the front of the room. Elias and Cerim had a smile on their faces, which meant they had to have passed, but why wouldn’t they? They were top students in the class.

Finally, when it was my turn, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, bracing myself for the worst. However, when I opened my eyes, I saw a 98 next to my name, my mouth opened and I squealed, while jumping up and down like a wild kangaroo. a few of the other students started laughing, including Cerim, Elias and Yukiya. “I told you that you would pass” Elias put his hand on my shoulder, as did Cerim. “Congratulations Nadia” “yeah, congrats”. I smiled gently before looking at the three of them “Thanks you guys” I sighed in relief, knowing that I had overcome one obstacle.

For the next few minutes, I spent gathering my things and talking to some of my other classmates, before walking out the door. It was finally lunch, which meant I had to find Amelia and Melody. I found Amelia, talking to a group of her friends, once she noticed me, she started motioning me over. “ Hey girl! how did you do on your finals?” “I passed Amelia!”. Amelia squealed and we embraced each other “I passed too! At first it was a little difficult, but I managed to push right on through it!”. “I’m so happy for you Amelia. Oh hey, by the way, have you seen Melody around?”

Amelia shook her head “I haven’t seen her since we parted our separate ways, to get to class. I hope she did alright” “I hope so too..” I thought back to earlier this morning and how different she was acting. I hoped and prayed that Melody passed her exams, not just for her sake, but for Nova’s as well.

Amelia and I decided to search around for her, before going to eat lunch in the courtyard, however, we found no trace of her even after almost half an hour of searching and asking people about her whereabouts. Just then, I saw a familiar face amongst a small group of people “Nova!” I shouted out, while waving to her, she saw my gesture and came running over “Nova, thank goodness...have you seen Melody around?”. Nova shook her head, a frantic look was on her face “I was just about to ask you the same thing, I can't find her anywhere. I’m getting seriously worried, it’s not like her to just disappear like this.”

Nova’s voice sounded shaky as she spoke, her worry was expressed in both her voice and on her face, I turned to face Amelia who held a look of concern as well. “Have you told any of the professor’s?” “Of course I did, hell I even asked prefect Klaus if he had seen her. He told me he’d keep an eye out and even send his familiar to go looking for her.” The three of us exchanged looks, what seemed like a minor case has turned into something much more, Melody could be in serious danger. I couldn’t just stand by and wait for someone to bring us the news. “Girls....we’re going to go and find Melody, she couldn't have gone farther than the northern woods or the spring. She’s got to be somewhere around there”

“I love the enthusiasm, Nadia, but we can’t go and search for her in the woods or spring during the day. It’s restricted anyways” Amelia proved a good point “We have to do something, I’ll be damned if Melody gets hurts, it’s bad enough that she’s out there in one of those places. But lately monsters have grown more vicious, I won’t stand here and do nothing about this!”. I placed my hand on Nova’s shoulder “Don’t worry, we are going to find her, we’ll meet at this spot tonight after it’s lights out. By that time no one will be out patrolling the area.”

Nova gave a soft nod as did Amelia, we had a plan in motion for the rest of the day and night. I didn’t want to have to lose another day, which could have been spent with my boyfriend. But I also didn’t want to lose a good friend who could now be in serious trouble. I wouldn't be able to tell any of this to Klaus either, I know he would try to stop me if he knew....which is why I decided I would keep my distance from him for the day. “Klaus...I hope you can forgive me” I muttered softly under my breath, before Amelia, Nova and I headed towards our dorms, where we could come up the details of this “rescue mission”.

#wizardess heart #klaus goldstein #oc #mc

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dunmerofskyrim · 7 years

Text

“Bastard!” Bandrys’ voice was a gurgle, gone almost shrill with rage. “That bastard! Those bastards! Fuck them with their forebears’ bones! Fuck!”

A shriek of rage echoed across the plain, pale and thin as dawnlight. The wind blew cold over stiff grass, frozen dew, the frost-mazed sheet of a poor-pitched tent.

“Think there were ever any bounties to start with?”

“I don’t care! I’ll say d’you think I fucking care? Fuck! The n’wah’s fucked us. Off with our purses and into the fucking sunrise? I swear by ash and blood, Galgas…”

Someone spat heavy. Groaned as they made to move.

“Tracks.”

“What?”

“Guar tracks. One set of hooves. The road ahead.” An expectant pause. “Looks like rain today. Be gone later.”

Footsteps tramped across the grass, creaking hoary in the cold.

“How are you so calm? How are you so calm, you bastard!”

No answer. Just the sound of spitting, and one pair of hands fumbling with cloth, rope, hide.

“Fuck the tent! Time’s losing and I’ll say I am not letting that bastard shake us! He can’t have got far and when I find him, I swear…” Another short howl of frustration, like glass heated to glowing, about to shatter and break. It cracked into another gurgle and a hawking spit, profuse and darkly wet. “Go! Let’s go already! Think he can cheat me? Think anyone can cheat me! Fuck!”

Running feet and falling boots. Their gait was clumsy, staggered. The sound rose, then faded away.

At last Simra let himself breathe. His ears rang for the strain of listening, for the briefness of his breath, the hard cold of the ground he lay on. Bellydown in the grass while someone called him a cheat — he ought to have felt every bit the snake, but instead it felt like triumph, relief. They’d taken the bait.

Sunlight broke through the weft of the cloak that covered the three of them. Noor and Tammunei slept next to Simra. Elbows and knees and sleep and fear. Every slow-taken breath scared Simra deeper into silence, afraid they’d make some sound without knowing it and throw the whole plan from its cradle. Still, they’d earnt the rest. They’d walked among the grasses and along the plains, singing together this spell. A large cloak of woven grass, thatched through with charms of concealment to last from night til after dawn. And that was no small thing.

He began to count down. All round was a vast clear flatness. Once he was out from under the cloak there was nothing but the grass to hide him — just a gamble, chancing that the brothers would not look back.

A count of two-hundred shrunk away. The hot taste of copper filled Simra’s mouth again and became thick. It was his gums again. The poison again, same as had plunged the brothers into a deep and dream-plagued sleep, and seen them wake all but bleeding themselves pale through their mouth. It had been kinder to Simra. The agent in the sugar had seen to that, fighting the worst of it off. Still his wrists and ankles ached, stiff beyond the cold. Still, he leaned his head forward and blood poured dark and slack from his lips to drain into the ground. He spat to clear it. Still the taste remained: hot copper, faint black pitch.

Another two-hundred ticked past. It was still a gamble, but the odds were changing. Wait any longer, he’d risk losing them. Noor had unharnessed the guar and horse, and clapped them off up the road ahead, to go where they would. It had set a false trail for the brothers to follow, but also left Simra, Noor, and Tammunei dismounted. The chase would be on foot. But Simra didn’t have to catch them; only keep them in sight.

At last he crawled out from under the cloak and came to a crouch. Behind him, the way he’d crawled, there was nothing to see. Just grass among grass — not invisible, but unremarkable to the barest brink of it.

The wise-ones had done their work well, he thought. What was he next to that? A kit of tinder and kindling. A hedge hung with baubles and bits of magic, and most more shiny than worthy. He’d have found a way alone, he told himself. He always would and always had before. He knew his own recourses against poison and sickness, though none were pretty or came without cost. He pictured himself, daubing runes onto his body as the poison set in; eating ash and chanting til the sickness set in to purge his body. Tammunei’s way had been easier. Folly not to take it when offered… Folly, too, not to seize time by the scruff while it was still on his side.

“Hey,” he hissed. “Hey.” Louder now. “Wake up. It’s time.”

The grass fluttered, like some sudden small wind had shook its stems. Then the sight of it twisted, creased, and split open. Noor gathered herself up from under the cloak and clambered out to crouch beside Simra.

“Stay low,” he said. “Level with the grass.” He jutted a thumb over one shoulder in explanation. Along the road to Othrenis there were still two dark shapes, long-coated, hustling clumsy towards the horizon.

Tammunei crawled to a crouch as well, bleary-eyed, only half-awake.

Cast off now, the cloak had already started to look parched and threadbare. Its edges were ragged, unravelling. As the magic faded, the spell devoured itself, fading out of effect. As with fire, so with all magic — something would always be eaten.

Simra hunkered over to where it had lain and worked through his baggage. His joints complained. His right hand ached between its knuckles, fingers stiff and awkward as he teased open the mouth of his gathersack. He’d not been fool enough to wear the scale chestpiece to lie bellydown against the damp dirt all night. He’d paid through the nose for the blighted thing after all. Now he hurried it on, over the grass-wet cold of his clothes, and picked up his spear from where it had lain all night.

“What now?” said Noor as she strung her bow once more.

“You know what now,” Simra said. “They’re bait, running off ahead. We keep them in sight and wait to see what catches.” He fastened on his belt and bookbag — his satchel with two new purses inside. “D’you hear them earlier? ‘Think there were ever any bounties to start with?’ That was good.”

“You’re smiling…” said Tammunei, shrugging into the carrying straps of their yurt.

“This bit’s about as good as it’s going to get. The rest’s all graft. It’s smile now or start thinking about running after those flatfoots.”

In truth it felt clever and heady. Like throwing fits in Windhelm’s streets so Soraya could cut a few purses. Like throwing a gambit in a game of cards and watching the table as it takes. There was a hungry pleasure in it. Denying it would take a larger lie than Simra wanted to tell himself.

“We ready?” he said. “How’re you for strength? Magicka? You’ll need it.”

Noor looked blank at him and Tammunei said nothing. Hard to say if it was pride, stubbornness, or sleep and the risen sun that had brought them back to strength.

“I’m not chancing you running dry,” Simra said. “You risk yourself, you risk us all. At least take some fucking guljana for the road.”

He shared out the pink-red slices of dried root from his bag and took one for himself. No tea this morning, and little sleep that night. He’d need to borrow what sharpness he could. After that they set off at a trot, single-file, eyes always to the road ahead. No need to outrun the brothers, Simra told himself as his forehead and neck began to prickle and his lungs grew tight and cold. Just watch them and watch the horizon.

The poison lingered, grinding thick in the joints of his hips and knees and making his feet fall awkward. But if it hung on him so heavy, how much heavier would it be on the brothers? It would slow them, he reckoned. And that was one more in a host of reasons to pace himself now.

Noor and Tammunei were the better runners over distance. Simra’s gait was long. Simra’s body wanted to rush. Cityborn, he’d made himself a sprinter even before he was full-grown. But as much as Tammunei was of the Grey Quarter too, they’d lived as Velothi for longer. Where Simra wanted to bolt the leagues down, swallowing them whole, Tammunei and Noor had a knack of chewing them over with pace and patience, and in the long of things that was faster. Simra did what he could to mimic them, but quick the sound of his breath filled his brain til it almost felt like rage.

One league, two leagues, three. Simra’s throat grew ragged with panting. The day lengthened, one hour into the next, but grew no brighter. Grey light and linen skies. Galgas had been right at dawn. It looked like rain.

Four leagues. Tammunei slowed to a halt and gave a long blink as the others stopped too. As if by unspoken command they all moved from the road and half-hid in the grass once more.

“The wind says someone’s coming.” Tammunei spoke, breathless but not broken.

The horizon stuttered to the road’s distant right. There in the south, figures showed dark above the yellow-grey grass.

“There,” said Simra, squinting to southward. “Mounted. Fucking of course they are…”

“At least we’ll be riding the rest of the way,” said Noor. “If we do this the right way.”

Simra’s fingers itched round the shaft of his spear. “Hard to say how many.”

No matter how his eyes strained they gave him no numbers. A memory surfaced, from worlds ago and years away. ‘See anything?’ ‘Fuck… I don’t have special elf eyes, Kjeld…’ Simra swallowed the thought into silence before laughter or tears could seize him.

“This way,” he said, gesturing for the others to follow. “Best make up some distance while we can.”

They stayed low, making away from the road now, towards the horizon the riders had come from.

Sweat prickled at Simra’s neck. It troubled down from beneath his torn earlobe to finish, lost in the faded folds of his patchwork scarf. The ring of dull gold through his left ear felt hot and soft as clay. Winter cold – frost still on the grass and ice still on the road’s black shining puddles – but beneath his clothes Simra was all heat, all blush, all worry.

The riders were taking their time. More playful than patient though. Like wolves stake out their prey, knowing that if it bolts they can still run it down. Like dogs, waiting on that first sign of fear. They rode at a walk, straight for the road. So far as Simra could see, the brothers were trying to keep their pace, but one of them was moving hampered now. The other slowed to match his pace.

“Five,” said Tammunei. “There’s five of them.”

“We carry on til they’re done with the brothers,” Simra said. “They’ll lead back the way they came. Show us where they work from.”

The ache was in Simra’s thighs now, legs bent as they kept on. The tip of his sword’s wooden scabbard dragged along the ground — a rudder through still waters; a ploughshare through soft soil. He fought to keep a hiss of discomfort from his voice.

“What about them?” said Tammunei. “The brothers.”

Simra’s throat caught tight. “If we’re lucky they’ll soften those five for us.” Tammunei seemed about to say something, but stayed silent. “I know that’s not what you’re asking, but it’s too late to wonder now. Best not think on it.”

A whooping wail tore across the plain. It snapped Simra’s head about to stare. It started as one voice but the others took it up.

“Shit…” he hissed.

The riders charged. On the road, the brothers had stopped moving. Distance made black bristles of them, set against the sky, and the riders coursed closer, crying out as they came. In loose order the five of them spread from file and into a loose fan. Further and further from Simra, Noor, and Tammunei, the thunder of their charge turned silent and their warcry drowned in the noise of the wind.

“They have one Vereansu among them,” said Noor. “At least one.”

“You can tell by the wail?”

Noor touched her forehead, agreeing. “Most of them are mimics. Baelathri, thinking it makes them fierce — that a Vereansu can’t tell the difference. But the first at least, where they took their cue, that was real. Angkut clan, by the sound of it.”

“That tell us anything?”

“It means one bow at least and someone well versed in using it from the saddle.”

Simra grimaced. “Reckon you’re better from foot?”

Noor palmed an arrow from the quiver at her hip and nocked it to her bowstring. “We’ll see.”

“Dolgrassur… That an Angkut name, d’you know?”

“How should I know?” Noor hissed, fingers fretting at the flights of her arrow. Not feathers but stiffened leather. “You talk over your fear in hope that it will hide it. Stop. Listen. Watch.”

Simra grit his teeth and tensed his jaw, looking towards the road.

The shapes there whirled, rabbling round. One thrashed dark and panicked against the ground. Another split off, skirting a wide loop about the fight as it unfurled, only to thunder back fraywards. Some dark streak lashed out against the sky, splitting one dark blur apart — a rider knocked from their saddle. But the one who broke away to renew their charge coursed through the fight and out its other side now, a line drawn tight behind them. As they hammered a path away, curving across the plain, another shape struggled on the line behind them, dragged rough and fast through the grass.

Silence was one thing, staying still was all another. Simra’s knees bobbed as he crouched. His fingers twitched like stillness hurt them. Three against five. There was a time he’d have run straight from odds like those. Sometimes it felt like he’d gotten stronger, better. Sometimes it seemed only that he’d gotten greedy. A taste of fast coin and it was hard to ever go back to slow…

Tammunei sat with eyes closed, one hand open to the air. Noor jounced on the balls of her feet, nocking and renocking the same arrow, over and over. Simra felt the stiff lines of his scarred mouth begin to twitch. The stiff and always ache of his right hand’s fingers began to act out. At least one bow, Noor had said. The scarring between Simra’s neck and shoulder knotted too at the thought.

The fight on the road was over.

The rider who’d cast the line led their number now at a walk, back south towards Simra, Noor, and Tammunei. They drew into distance, growing as they came. The line was still taut behind their guar. A lariat, Simra reckoned as they drew nearer and into plain-sight — a rope with a body dragging behind.

A figure staggered on foot, bound up behind another rider. There were fewer mounts now than before. Of the four remaining, one had two to its saddle. By now Simra could hear their voices. A drift of laughter over the land, but not a full five voices in it. There were injured among them, or at least some hurt past humour. Their fighting strength was down. They were tired or else complacent in victory. That was good.

“Noor?” Simra hissed. “The ones doubled up, two to a guar. See them?”

Noor hummed in her throat. It sounded like agreement at first, but drew on, like the start of a song. “When?” she said.

“When we’ve got a sense for their bearing. Where the rest’re holed up.”

Simra tested the balance of his spear and swapped it to his left hand. With his right he slipped the wand from his boot. Better aim that way; a steadier hand, even for all it had been through.

The riders held course. Simra held his breath as they drew level with his hiding place in the grass, then rode at a slow and straight walk past.

“Noor?”

She hummed an acknowledgement.

Tammunei’s breathing had turned hard, eager. Their nostrils flared and their closed lips twitched in the peace of their face. Their other hand was closed round a thing of bone and horn, held together with red woven hair. Simra remembered back to the fight beside the river. He knew what the ghost trapped inside that fetish could do to a body.

Noor was ready. As she drew back her bowstring and loosed the arrow, something began to move in the grass nearby. The arrow took flight in a rush of air. The grass twisted and billowed like the wake of a shark through water. Tammunei’s bound ghost. It followed the arrow across the ground as it streaked throughout the sky.

Noor nocked another arrow and leapt to her feet. Heart in his mouth and ears full of its sound, Simra was up now too. She tilted back her head and gave a whooping wailing shriek as she began to run. In running too, Simra lost track of her. He charged. The world tightened round him, loud and lonely.

The distance narrowed in a rush of thumping foosteps. The sound of a second arrow hushed across the gap.

First, the guar with two riders bucked, tossed its head, fell backwards. It thrashed against the ground, like a mad-made mock of a dustbath. Simra could hear it groaning, begging ground or grass to pull the two arrows from its neck and side. No sign now of its riders.

The others wheeled out. Two split off to Simra’s right, skirting to flank him and Noor.

Another lagged behind. Their mount reared against a rope tied to it. Bandrys had the rope’s far end about his wrists. He pulled, hand over hand, as the rider struggled to untie it. The rider yanked a blade from their waist. In one silent moment, they rode down the length of the rope. The blade flashed once, biting hard. Bandrys stopped struggling.

The rider circled about, hacking down once more to loose the rope. Wind-troubled white hair, patchwork chitin armour, knees and off-hand straining to get their pony back in rein as it bucked and fought nervous circles through the grass. They raised their sword, bellowed, and spurred towards Simra. Then the air streaked dark. A long war-arrow bristled sudden from under the rider’s raised arm. The horse charged on in a lather of panic. Sixty paces, fifty, forty and closing.

Simra snarled a calling as he raised his wand. Four words formed still and clear in his mind and scorched his tongue when spoken. He jabbed the butt of his spear into the ground and felt the spell run free. A hungry draw on him, half-consuming him as the grass where his spear had struck began at once to smolder. Fast as oil-soaked cloth it took and billowed into hungry sparks. Not flame but bitter black smoke to blind the flanking riders. Bows, Noor had said — at least one.

But the charging rider had passed the sword to their other hand. Another arrow sparred out now from their thigh. Thirty paces, twenty, eyes flashing pain and murder, foam bearding the horse’s bared teeth.

Simra breathed deep, stood still, turned profile. Took aim as the smoke set in. Eyes stinging, he fought to keep them open just a moment more, and joined the runes on the wand. It jolted in his hand. The air screwed and blurred. A whirling force threw the rider at last from their saddle. As they struck the grass, Simra threw himself aside. The half-mad horse flew past and ghosted into the smoke.

“Breathe…” Simra heard himself say. He clambered onto his knees, thrusting the wand back into his boot. Bright and light his limbs, dizzy with distant pain. Head full of roaring silence. “Breathe and up. Get the fuck up…”

But his breath stung and choked him. Acrid smoke, fuelled more by magicka than by the burning plain. Someone, somewhere, started to scream. On knees, then knees and hands, then two running feet, he charged towards the sound and out from the smoke.

Blinding grey sunlight. The world blurred through Simra’s streaming eyes. Already the air was a-reek with blood. Simra dashed for the first figure he saw. Spear levelled in both hands, Simra shrieked, going for the rider’s flank. A dreamlike moment. The spear sunk into the rider’s side, and sunk Simra back through memory. A courtyard of mud and bodies and Moridene twisting on the ground. Then the spearhead carried the rider through the air to falling and their weight ripped the shaft from Simra’s hands as the guar bolted from beneath them.

On the ground they scrabbled like a pinned moth. Simra reached past his scabbard and to his knives instead. His fingers closed round a leatherbound handle. A spearhead once, with him since childhood, reforged into something leafbladed now, stiff-spined — sharp as he went to ground and stabbed point-down into the struggling figure.

Resistance at first. A hand raised against his dagger. A messy parting of delicate bones; dagger through desperate hand. Then the stubborn flex of mail. Then the savage accident of Simra’s point finding its way past the armour — to softness and opening skin.

After that there was nothing. No motion beneath Simra. Not even screaming anymore in the distance. Simra sat on his haunches, fist loose round the point-down grip he’d taken on his dagger. His shoulders shook. Sweat burned stiff on his scalp and shoulders.

He blinked the smoke from his eyes. On his scaled chest and the side of his neck and his jaw’s outward corner, blood was starting to dry. Messy handprints, smeared in blame-bright red.

By rights this was only half a victory. By numbers, less than half.

#TES #Morrowind #Dunmer #Simra Hishkari #SH Forth and Back #SH New Canon #Tammunei Ereshkigal #Noor Jedhredzuk

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littlefoxgw2 · 2 years

Photo

for day 2 i’ll be on either Xyxxy or Dawnlight Dew (haven’t decided yet) so look out for me! i’ll do my absolute best to be there! :)

the video will be ready by next weekend because even though there’s 4 hours of footage just from day 1, i’m super excited to work on it and relive everything and i’ll try to tag everyone who appears in the video when i post it :)

edit: try this screenshot of Dew, I hope to play her during tomorrow’s Pride march!

this PLANT is GAY

#sorry the jpgs are deep fried i tried to tweak the color appearances #skyscale rambles #My characters #xyxxy #dawnlight dew #tyria pride 2022 #i saw several garfields there it was amazing #i learned a lot of animal facts #and we got to vote on which npc we would date in a heartbeat (i voted malice swordshadow)

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sigurdjarlson · 7 years

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Since i wholeheartedly trust you in questions like this: what should be the last name of my night elf druid, Liliandelle? I still haven't figured it out...

Ohhh no I’m so terrible with names. I use the nelf name generator often tho it’s really useful. Not even just the ones generated, it just gives some good examples and you can go from there.

For night elves..have you ever read the warrior cats series? Their last names tend to sound like the names of those cats lmao. Like in game examples: Shadowsong, Whisperwind. Stormrage, Ravencrest, Felsong (lmao ominous)

A lot of nature related stuff since night elves are so in tune with nature.

You’ll see a lot of Night, Shadow, Moon, Star. in names since they’re..well, night elves x) (conversely you’ll see blood elves tend to have sun and similiar stuff in their names (ex: sunstrider) but you can do whatever you want tbh)

Here are some examples of words that can be used and can be mashed together to make last names

Forest, Storm, Winter, Dawn, Raven, Bear, Wolf, Stag, Runner, Blade, Song, Flower, Strike, Wind, Silent, Wood, Mist, Snow, Cloud, Arrow, Dew, Wild, Stalker, Mane, Striker, Grove, Leaf, Breeze, Spirit, Tree, Branch, Bloom, Caller, Walker, Feather, Dancer, Singer, Gazer, Shield, Watcher, Whisper, Green, Thunder, Crest, Bow, Silver, Scribe, Spyre, Breath, Shade, Autumn, Thorn, Wing, Blue, Helm, Breeze.

Hm…personally I love these Dawnlight, Nightweaver, Swiftblade, Stormsong, Nightrunner, Forestflower, Shadowstrike, Ravensong…

(Moonmoon comes up in suggestions sometimes and it kills me because…it’s a terrible but technically viable night elf name)

#asks #unidentified-starman #im so flattered you came to me though <3

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violettesiren · 5 years

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Beneath an old wall, that went round an old castle, For many a year, with brown ivy overspread; A neat little hovel, its lowly roof raising, Defied the wild winds that howled over its shed: The turrets, that frowned on the poor simple dwelling, Were rocked to and fro, when the tempest would roar, And the river, that down the rich valley was swelling, Flowed swiftly beside the green step of its door. The summer sun gilded the rushy roof slanting, The bright dews bespangled its ivy-bound hedge, And above, on the ramparts, the sweet birds were chanting, And wild buds thick dappled the clear river's edge, When the castle's rich chambers were haunted and dreary, The poor little hovel was still and secure; And no robber e'er entered, nor goblin nor fairy, For the splendours of pride had no charms to allure. The lord of the castle, a proud surly ruler, Oft heard the low dwelling with sweet music ring, For the old dame that lived in the little hut cheerly, Would sit at her wheel, and would merrily sing: When with revels the castle's great hall was resounding, The old dame was sleeping, not dreaming of fear; And when over the mountains the huntsmen were bounding She would open her lattice, their clamours to hear. To the merry-toned horn she would dance on the threshold, And louder, and louder repeat her old song: And when winter its mantle of frost was displaying, She carolled, undaunted, the bare woods among: She would gather dry fern, ever happy and singing, With her cake of brown bread, and her jug of brown beer, And would smile when she heard the great castle-bell ringing, Inviting the proud to their prodigal cheer. Thus she lived, ever patient and ever contented, Till envy the lord of the castle possessed, For he hated that poverty should be so cheerful, While care could the fav'rites of fortune molest; He sent his bold yeomen with threats to prevent her, And still would she carol her sweet roundelay; At last, an old steward relentless he sent her -- Who bore her, all trembling, to prison away! Three weeks did she languish, then died broken-hearted, Poor dame! how the death-bell did mournfully sound! And along the green path six young bachelors bore her, And laid her for ever beneath the cold ground! And the primroses pale 'mid the long grass were growing, The bright dews of twilight bespangled her grave, And morn heard the breezes of summer soft blowing, To bid the fresh flowerets in sympathy wave. The lord of the castle, from that fatal moment When poor singing Mary was laid in her grave, Each night was surrounded by screech-owls appalling, Which over the black turrets their pinions would wave! On the ramparts that frowned on the river, swift flowing, They hovered, still hooting a terrible song, When his windows would rattle, the winter blast blowing, They would shriek like a ghost, the dark alleys among! Wherever he wandered they followed him crying; At dawnlight, at eve, still they haunted his way! When the moon shone across the wide common they hooted, Nor quitted his path till the blazing of day. His bones began wasting, his flesh was decaying, And he hung his proud head, and he perished with shame; And the tomb of rich marble, no soft tear displaying, Overshadows the grave of the poor singing dame!

The Poor Singing Dame by Mary Darby Robinson

#Mary Darby Robinson

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deadromance619 · 5 years

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Not Perfect

Have you ever had one of those days you wish you could forget about, but you know you can't because you're afraid it might happen again?

There's something that needs to be said about me, simply because I'm never been on a high chair of power like I am now, even when I was a commander in Draenor sitting in a garrison all the time. There were a few things I liked about being a commander there. I had troops doing almost all of my missions, plenty to eat, sources of arcane mana to drink, and most important of all; bathrooms and hot bodies of water to bathe. I completely forgot that the Scryer Inn and most of the Sin'dorei areas have no bathrooms anywhere. Now I may be able to throw myself tens of feet off of the Scryer area into the Lower Areas, use Blessing of Protection to break my fall, and dig a hole large enough to defecate into, but there are plenty of merchants and people watching, and NOW there's a guy just sitting there waiting to have a pet battle saying, "Yes, yes, we fight, we fight."

I ate way too many fish yesterday and I was telling him to leave me alone, or go someplace else, and stop watching me and GET THOSE STUPID PETS AWAY FROM ME! I managed to soil my armor while I was being harassed, and unfortunately this isn't the first time it's happened. No, it's happened a few times, I think it has happened to my kin as well, as in other blood elves, but I don't know for sure. Probably too proud to admit it, and I can relate to that, but the reason why I'm writing about this is because I'm sitting on a high position NOW and someone is bound to find out sooner or later. I really don't want the words at my funeral to be, "Perfectia Dawnlight, the Highlord that shit herself sometimes." This is why I like taking in arcane magic, everything goes in the right areas, to the head, to the heart, to the eyes and to the stomach. Sometimes it tastes, how somethings should smell, I can taste magic from far away, but that's just my thing, not most blood elves. Anyways to make matters worse I run into none other than, Harris Pilton. I thought I was going to die of embarrassment, but she actually managed to act like a friend for a change. She said, "Perfectia is that you?"

I summoned my warhorse Lucy, but I didn't want to ride her like this. So, I put her in front of Harris's field of view hoping she wouldn't see me. And walked on her side and tried to make my way up to the Scryer Inn to maybe clean myself up but she kept coming and I told her, "Now is really not the time Harris."

"But I got you this awesome gift." She said.

She came closer and was about to say something, but she noticed the smell and said, "Perfectia did you…"

"Not the time!" I interrupted.

"Oh my gosh Perfectia, hold on." She intervened and let out a high pitch whistle. A Nether Drake flew from the pins, picked me up, and put me over his head. Harris got in the saddle and said, "Take us to the floating lakes." And we took off really fast for being double mounted.

The floating lakes were literally floating and looking out of Outlands Nagrand, I had never been in that part of Outland before. I took off my boot and tested the water; it was chilly compared to the suns heat coming from overhead. Harris started getting undressed into her small clothes, walked into the water, and I started to step in with my armor. "No, no, no you're going to rust that armor." She said.

"I swim in full armor all the time and I can afford the repair bills." I argued.

"Well I don't want to be held responsible for taking more of your money." She said. She took off her small clothes too, which came as a shock to me because she was naked, "What, we're both girls." She said.

I started to get undressed and Harris taking some notices to my smell she reached into her bag and pulled out a bar of soap. I got completely undressed and dipped my soiled underpants into the water and she got out of the water, "What are you?! Oh never mind…" She let out another high pitch whistle that I had to cover my ears for. The Nether Drake came in a few seconds, "Take her to the one with warm water and clean up these clothes."

I was about to say something but before I could say or do anything the Nether Drake picked me up naked and took me to another floating body of land that had steaming water, dropped me off and went down to where Harris was. I got into the water and even though it was hot outside, the warmth was appealing. I walked right in and the air bubbles provided a little bit of cover for my body. Harris came back riding her Nether Drake as naked as I was, but she had a large bag. She put it outside the pool and got into the water, "What do they teach you over in that Horde?" she complained.

I looked at her covering myself, "How to fight, craft armor, fish, and maybe a little first aid."

Harris laughed, "I suppose they didn't teach you anything about cleaning laundry and bathing waters are supposed to be in two different waters?"

I looked away, back at her, and shook my head.

"Well stand up and turn around." She ordered.

"No, just let me soak," I argued, "I'll clean off. I don't even know why you brought me here and the only thing keeping me from jumping off this platform is that all my clothes are on that other platform."

She sighed, and half smiled, "What happened to your dragon, Protecto I think it was?"

I looked away, "He's gone."

She had a look of concern in her face, "I'm sorry; I know you guys were close."

I looked back at her suddenly, "No, he's not dead, it's just. We had a little fall out when I took command in Dreanor, it turns out all the time travelers there made it hard for dragons like Protecto to fly or transform."

"Oh, have you heard from him since?" Harris asked.

I sighed, and I shook my head, "I was planning on going back to the Caverns of Time to see him when I got back to Azeroth. Not just to fly me places, to you know, catch up I suppose."

Harris smiled, "He talked about you from time to time, helped a few Nether drakes get out of the Black Temple and taught them how to fly faster so they didn't get caught again. He was handsome; I'm surprised you guys didn't, you know."

"Eww no, I mean what if he like, transformed back during the act, and would I lay eggs if I got pregnant? It seems too creepy. I don't know how Jaina Proudmore can do that."

Harris put her hands over her mouth and blushed, "Wait, what, with a dragon?!"

I smiled, "Yeah Harris where have you been, I saw her and Kalecgos holding hands during Garrosh's trial and people say they kiss in public."

Harris rolled her eyes, "Well it doesn't sound too bad if he was half as handsome as Protecto was, but the dragons here can't transform. " Harris sighed, "You seem well traveled Perfectia, I guess I'm a little jealous."

"You know you could actually get out of there." I said.

She shook her head, "No thank you, Outland is my home. I know a lot of adventurers have done great things, but before a lot of you people leave seeking your fortune and never came back. The things I hear about going on in Azeroth scare me to death, Outland just seems safer. Besides, I get to hear the stories; I get paid to do laundry, design jewelry, and make clothes, bags, bath products, and fragrances… Well I don't do the laundry." Harris laughed, "I trained the dragons to clean dirty clothes. Kylene thinks I do it all by hand."

I laughed, "Well you trained that strange mutt to do tricks so it's not too surprising."

"Stand up and turn around Perfectia." She said softly this time.

I crossed my arms, stood up and turned around. I heard her take something out of her bag and poured something in her hand. I could taste strange feelings of oranges and grapefruits as she touched me, and it built lather. There was a pumping feeling in her hands as arcane energy flowed through her palms and fingertips in time with her heartbeat. I turned my head around, "Magic soap?" I asked.

Harris looked up at me and smiled, "Nope that's all me."

It felt like someone cast a Blessing of Protection spell on me, but it didn't come from a prayer from the Light, it came from the arcane energy that flowed in my veins and hers. I felt it go around me like I was inside of an egg. She put pressure on my lower back, butt, and legs and the pain of stress, tension, and withdraws, everything I was carrying made circular motions under my skin and now what used to hurt felt good. A wave of sweet fruits fell on my taste buds of apples, grapes, oranges, and honey dew. I tilted my head to the side and put my arms down and smiled. She grabbed one of my arms and moved her hands along it, "Wow Perfectia you're really strong. I can feel that this is where you take in most of your arcane energy."

I was in ecstasy, "The Ashbringer feeds me." I smiled and laughed, "When I kill demons."

She stopped and backed away from me and I looked over at her, "What's wrong?" I asked.

She was shaking her hands, "No, no, no. "She chanted, "I don't want that."

"Harris what's wrong?" I asked concerned.

"YOU'RE TAKING IN FEL MAGIC NOW?!" She yelled.

"No, I would never, the Ashbringer feeds me; it takes in demonic energy and purifies it."

She covered herself and backed away, "No it doesn't, it's eating you away, I can feel it in your legs, and I was trying to repair the damage but it still inside you."

I shook my head, "No, the Ashbringer has always been a part of me."

"What?!" she looked at me disgusted.

"It's difficult to explain, I can show you. You might want to get out of the water though."

Harris whistled, called her Nether Drake, and came back fully clothed, I was trying to concentrate naked in the water, but I needed something to focus on. "Harris, I need a weapon, a sword or dagger."

"I have a hair brush." She pulled it from her bag.

I nodded and took the hair brush. Now I could do it, I had done it with a spade and mining pick. I closed my eyes and thought about the first time this happened when I was in danger, I hadn't learned how to control it since I was in Draenor but I was forcing it now. I told myself I wasn't a demon, I wasn't a monster using fel magic, feeding off of fel magic, Molgraine soul was inside me, I just needed to summon it. My body grew hot, I felt the green glowing symbols burn on my face, and I flinch as the symbols burnt my skin. "Perfectia stop." Harris demanded

I shook my head, "No, I can do this." The water I was standing was boiling more. I could feel more symbols were showing up on my right breast, stomach, arms, and right leg. They burned, and I knew it was because I was forcing it. I didn't understand why this was so hard now; I was able to do this on a training dummy before and it didn't hurt this badly. I felt the last steps of the transformation before I would summon the spiritual Ashbringer. The hand crystal, the same one that was on the physical sword would show up below my neck. It appeared and burned like a hot steel plate right out of the forge, but it was on my skin. I couldn't concentrate anymore, the pain was too great, I held on to the symbol and I felt a surge of pain go through me. I fell on my back into the water and felt my body go into shock, in the distance I heard Harris's loud whistle and I lost consciousness.

When I woke up I was in a draenei style aid center and covered in bandages on the right side of my face. "She's awake." I heard someone say.

Harris had flown me here and when I woke up I had what felt like infected wounds on the areas the symbols had shown up and a burning feeling below my neck. But at least they weren't glowing anymore. "Where's Boros or Harris." I said.

"Hold on their paladin, we had to use some strong healing magic to stop those burns from getting worst. Your Scryer friends didn't know what to do with you, do try to get some rest." One of the female Aldor Draenei caregivers said.

I looked down from the bed I was laying on and at the foot of it, it was all my stuff, but I didn't see the Ashbringer anywhere. "Nurse, where's my sword?"

"Your friend took it back to Dalaran." She said.

I nodded, I usually feel some level of withdraw from being away from it for more than a day, but I suppose the Aldors magic must have stopped any level of withdraw. "Can you hand me that book in my bag please?"

She gave it to me and here I am.

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