Fae Conundrum

Fae Conundrum.

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Sequel to Entanglement. Closed to Yvonne.

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The sizzling of a campfire was one of just many sounds in the early morn. The purple sky was slowly turning blue over the landscape. Settled into a campsite cradled within a massive set of rubble and stone, the group would have been shaded from the sun anyways, thanks to the massive columns of white, vine coated rocks and ruins. On one side of the campsite lied the vast jungle the group had met in. Dheathian's rain forest was a place of danger the team managed to survive. Yet, what lied on the other side of the camp was perhaps even more dangerous. The ruined city of Donnalaich was home to many drakari – one of which had his shop demolished by the girls – and fae – who were magic users.

The events of four days past were… interesting.

The heroes of this story seemed to be ignoring it. One of these girls, a redheaded teen, was sitting on the mat she called her bed. She currently wore a yellow shirt and brown traveling pants. Her shoes were unwisely taken off. The near-human was recently crippled in practically every way. Only several days after such a daunting experience, most of her physical problems were resolved. A previous slash to the stomach was well mended. As she and her partner in crime were both medics, they both knew how to use any bandages, creams, and medicines to rapidly heal the wound. Her previous state of exhaustion and starvation was also cured. In fact, thanks to both stress eating and a massive metabolism, almost all the deer meat they had was gone. In fact, right now, a half eaten bowl of soup was sitting next to her. She had nothing but rest as of late, thus she rapidly bounced back from her tired haze.

The only thing that did not heal was her head. Her emotional and mental state.

Yet another panic attack had taken over on that wretched day. For the first several days of rest, she was borderline unresponsive. Mostly, she was in a sort of vegetable state, although sometimes she went into crying fits as well. Today, she was still distant and reserved, but better. At this point, her run away from every internal thought mentality was starting to come back. As she stared off into the growing sunrise, she was starting to crack.

The last several days of awkward, uncomfortable silence was driving her crazy!

She could literally feel the weight of every dropped and unanswered question crushing her back. She knew she and her newfound sort-of-friend had so much to talk about after that scene they made in the city… she wished to run away and avoid it like the plague, but she just knew… she knew… they had to face it.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar squeaking itched her ear. She turned to the direction of the sound and looked down. There, a large mouse was eating her remaining soup.

The ragechild's eye twitched.

“GET AWAY, YOU LITTLE FOUR LEGGED, DISEASE INFESTED RODENT!!!”

The bowl was cast clear out of the camp, the tiny mammal tossed with it. The bowl landed within a section of jagged boulders, food splattering across the white rocks.

Seconds later, the increasingly irritated neanderthal hybrid heard crackling in the bushes. She instantly scowered the encampment for her delyn sword. Beneath the bags, the sleeping mats, cooking supplies. She overturned every object trying to find her only weapon – wait!

She telepathically called her metal bluebird out of her large backpack. The explosive object flew right into the girl's hand. “Halt! I have a bluebird painted bomb and I know how to-“ Her companion, Yvonne, stepped out of the shrubbery. “-Oh! It’s you.”

She dropped the telepathically controlled weapon onto the forest floor. “Sorry.”

She immediately went to clean up her mess, retreating back into that horrific silent treatment.

Well, that be an apology I guess. It might be tha only one I be getting, I had better appreciate it, for what it be worth.

Yvonne opened her mouth to say something, anything, but Felicity had already turned from her and walked away. Sighing softly, she closed her yap and frowned, refocused on sorting out the water she was carrying. Borrowing the grumpy teen's water purifier she set about cleansing it of impurities and diseases, so they'd survive another day at least. She poured it through the thing as Felicity had explained days ago, bit by bit, and put it in the canister. Boom! Hopefully she wouldn't notice her belongings were being utilized behind her back. She hadn't previously. The last thing the drow-dwarf woman wanted was another argument with her blood-sister, especially over something silly like who owns what.

The liquid was worth as much as gold out here in Dheathain, where the sun was scorching and sapped the energy of even the most resilient hero. There was no way the shrewd trader was going to barter for it, when Felicity owned a water purifying device and a babbling brook trickled through the jungle nearby. The jungle was life-endangering to be sure, though if it wasn't her that fetched their water some poor townsfolk would have to instead. No, Yvonne had time on her hands while her companion recovered from the brink. She could manage the water herself.

The grey dwarf had made a single trip into the town of Donnalaich during the last four days, to acquire some more water-skins. When she journeyed across the sea to this continent she had no idea the heat would be this punishing. She'd been drinking perhaps double her water in-take since arriving here, sweating it out twice as fast with the atrocious humidity. Squatting behind bushes twice as often to have twice as many pees was getting rather old. Her skin hated her sun exposure as much as she did - Yvonne had developed a sort of sun sensitivity, unless it was sunburn, sweat rash and never really recovering from either which she was cringing about.

Yvonne took her pack off, giving her back a rest and setting it down on the forest grass. The caress of the straps across her shoulders exacted a stinging pain which she tried not to react too loudly to. Her involuntary response was a whimper, nothing more. The sunburnt half-breed sat down upon her moss-supported bed, one of few comforts, folding her legs and opening her herb pouch. She knew she still had some left. One could get plenty of uses from an aloe vera plant by breaking off only very small pieces at a time. Yvonne gingerly rubbed the soothing sap over her blistering skin, her cringe and crinkling forehead fading.

I wonder how long she plans on keeping this up. This be tha fourth day of resting. She be getting restless, I can tell. Her wound not be too bad anymore, she be well fed and hydrated. Only a matter of time before she wants ta do something productive with her days. When she does that means we be going into Donnalaich I imagine, nest of fae magi, tricksters and witches. Tha least she could do would be ta help me understand what she knows about magic, prepare me a little for what we be getting ourselves into here... but no, avoiding conversation be tha least she could do.

Yvonne closed her glinting silver eyes, letting her pained facial expression relax, basking in the cool feeling of aloe vera on her skin while simultaneously burning beneath the sun's relentless stare. Her pointed elven ears twitched, swiveling slightly, listening for unusual sounds throughout the nearby jungle wilderness. The rustling of a hundred thousand leaves and the calming symphony of bird calls played in the distance. Birds were wonderful creatures. They were her own personal lookouts. Birdsong indicated a region without predators. Silence foretold danger. The little mistress inhaled a deep breath, filling her lungs full, holding it... before exhaling eventually. She was essentially meditating, clearing her mind of frustration.

Yvonne did not appear to be doing that well in the sunlight.

Daybreak was now fully blooming across the horizon. With the fae's magical powers not reaching the camp, it was dreadfully humid. Felicity could handle heat. Humidity, however…

As she continued to organize the campsite, she growled in annoyance. As Yvonne rested, Felicity tried to stay clear of her path. She always got this weird, jumpy feeling in her chest when she got close to her. It was the anxiety kicking in. Honestly, Felicity could tell that since she revealed her status as a magic user to Yvonne, the Alerar-born lady seemed to not… like her… so much anymore. In honesty, her insecurities were ramping up over the concept of losing a friend – then again, she remembered screaming at her, ordering her to leave and let her die.

Despite the heat, Felicity shivered.

Her body movements were loud and provoking. She was obviously in a foul mood as she shoved objects into bags and forcefully readjusted her sleeping mat. Her face was beet red. This was absolute torture. As mosquitoes flew around her sweaty head, the girl tossed her metal bird into a bag. This bird, in fact, was a creation of Alerar’s technology. The gunpowder within could explode upon its user's command. It was kind of like Felicity’s powers, minus the anger issues, blood letting, and anxiety. Felicity’s own powers were granted by an alchemist of Alerar. Would this change Yvonne’s opinion? Yvonne seemed, well, petrified over the mere mention of the topic of magic. Felicity’s abilities were wild and uncontrollable; deranged and violent. Was there any way Yvonne would continue to associate with… this? Felicity could not bear the thought of rejection again.

She just wanted to run. Run far away and never look back. Yet… she could not… She needed closure. Would the truth sting? Or was Yvonne somehow one of the select few to really understand? Did she fall somewhere in between? Was Felicity doomed? Yvonne was like a sister at this point. Felicity needed to know! Felicity finally caved.

After long last, she raised a frying pan in the air, screamed, and threw it to the ground. The loud clang it left as it collided with brick hard debris resounded across the whole camp. Her red, fiery hair matched her temper as she finally gave up. "Okay! That’s it! I've had enough of these silent treatment shenanigans!”

Her body was tense, enraged and terrified, as weakness forced itself to bleed through her vocal chords, “We're just about out of deer, we need to go into town, and we need to talk…”

The drow-dwarf mongrel’s forehead creased, her eyebrows coming together as she weathered the storm of Felicity’s temper, boiling over. Yvonne remained silent, despite her companion’s spiel intended to lure her to speak. The closed curtains of her black eyelids barely stirred, the grey dwarf lingering in her thoughts a while longer, where things were peaceful. She considered her blood-sister’s words, turned them over and examined them in her mind’s eye but gave no indication she was even listening at all.

She been thinking about things for a while, obviously. That be an elaborate word choice, poor dear. Shenanigans… did she read a dictionary tha last few days? Must be smarter than she first appears - never judge a book by its cover. She knew exactly what she wanted ta say, not even a hint of her lisp interrupting her. So this be how it unfolds, Felicity on tha front foot and putting me on tha back foot. How do I recreate equilibrium?

Yvonne opened one sterling eye and looked at the temperamental teen directly with it, her expression taking the form of a raised eyebrow. She was still foolishly holding out hope for a genuine apology, even though the Alerar-born had already forgiven the antagonism of days past. Perhaps it would be best to forget about it as well.

Whether it would be better or not, at her core she believed she had gone out of her way for Felicity many times, shown a benevolent side of her being because the truth of it was they were the same. Hybrids. Outcasts. Misfits. Yvonne’s benevolence came with a price tag attached. You didn’t necessarily have to pay the price when you took advantage of her kindness, but in the minds of all conscientious people they would understand they owed her. They were indebted and should either pay it back or pay it forward. Either option was satisfactory.

Felicity had protected Yvonne with her own body, with her life potentially while the charismatic force of will had straightened out the tyrant-butcher. For that Yvonne was thankful, but the berserker had followed up her selflessness with a tantrum-torrent so devastating it had deprived the black-skinned dwarf of any composure whatsoever. She could count the number of times she’d broken down and bawled her eyes out, physically emptied herself of sorrow on one hand. Felicity had made the list, she’d come to mean that much to her in such a short span of time.

Before Felicity could give her another tempered serve, Yvonne finally spoke.

“Let’s do those things in reverse. Talk. Town. Deer,” Yvonne cued, not saying another word.

Felicity blindly shoved a bag off a large rock, then awkwardly sat on it. The contents of the bag, which humorously included her sword, fell out. The teen paid no attention to it at all as she desperately awaited any replies. Silence was one thing she simply could not stand. For a moment, Yvonne seemed to have completely missed her before a single eye opened. The silver orb watched, thoughts obviously dancing in her head, as she raised an eyebrow. The girl bit her lip, her body coursing with lightning like negative energy, before –

“Let’s do those things in reverse. Talk. Town. Deer.”

Oh thayne.

Her peridot eyes grew three times larger. Her heart skipped before her nuclear blood continued to flow. Pale, the young woman looked away. She stared off into space somewhere, wondering where on earth she could start. Her knee jerk reaction was self defense. She needed to justify herself, direly. She went with it.

A long, shaky sigh escaped her. As jungle parakeets squawked in the distant trees, she closed her eyes. She was obviously nerve wrecked. Her body visibly shook as she gripped the stone with her bulky hands. From across the camp, Yvonne waited. Whether or not she was impatient, Felicity could not tell. Maybe it was her backstory, her lack of confidence, or both; Felicity was still socially awkward. Finally, she lowered her head.

“I wa-as trying-ing to… p-protect you.”

She gritted her teeth. So much stress was pulsing through her, her already unhealthy blood pressure was starting to rise to a point even the medication she was taking could not help. Shy but dark eyes opened. She started to sweat worse than she already was. She stopped gripping the rock and uncomfortably held her hands instead. For all the uptight body language, her voice remained timid and fearful. She spoke in a bit of a whisper. Her tone in itself seemed to plead for some sort of mercy.

“I didn’t want to hurt you back there, I-“ She stammered, anxious eyes darting around the camp as she slumped. “-I…” Another sigh. “I knew what I could be. Yes, I have magical powers. Yes, I have a hard time controlling them.”

Her voice finally started to rise. Anger was audible, yet it was not aimed towards to drow-dwarf mix. It was a rage that she held towards herself. “And since an alchemist first stuck a needle in me and gave me this, I’ve been paranoid of this ability getting out of hand.” Her hand fell over her rapidly pounding chest, “I hate the idea of hurting any of my friends with them – but you. You came from Alerar, right? And I saw how you handled that fae guide, you loathe magic. So how could I let you anywhere near me when my powers are raging! I could tell I was hurting you – my-my blood has nuclear poisoning – I had no way of stopping it from hurting you – I had to push you away! I couldn’t hurt you!”

She was tearing up. Heavy droplets of salty tears splattered onto her oak colored pants. Her voice shook as she quivered, “I wouldn't be surprised, if you probably hate me now for merely having magical powers. And, well, I guess I was also pushing you away before you had the chance to-to push me, if that makes any sense...”

There was still so much she could say. The way her powers worked, all the research she'd done just trying to figure them out, why there were no sparkles or fairy dust when her "invisible" powers switched on. For now, however, as the jungle started to teem with morning life, she waited for her judgement day.

Yvonne held any form of her judgement until the very end, until Felicity had spoken everything she was willing to say. Until she understood exactly what she was dealing with here, until the atomic-teen’s side of the story was told, the half-dwarf remained stoic. She didn’t interrupt, she listened. She didn’t stare, she made eye-contact and then looked away, considering her words. She didn’t prompt the girl any further than she already had - didn’t need to as her companion explained all. The black-skinned hybrid tended and cultivated her thoughts.

Poor lass. Her reasoning I comprehend. She tried ta safeguard me from herself, even as I be helping her. If I had been in her place, what would I have done differently? If I be cursed with a dangerous magical power, wouldn’t I do as she had done? Push, rage, scream, yell. I would do anything ta protect those I care for. I would do worse. I would lie. I would manipulate and pull strings. I would subdue if it came ta that. Who be I ta scrutinize her imperfections? I have more than me fair share of flaws.

The mention of another, an alchemist was key information. Someone else had burdened her with this, of their own volition. They had made a decision to take Felicity’s life in their hands and alter it at their whim. Yvonne’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Her immediate thought was to take an eye for an eye. They had punctured Felicity with a sharp object and should meet the same fate. A dagger between their ribs would suffice. Even the thought of it made her feel better. She would have to question the lass about this alchemist, learn his intention and whether she willingly accepted this serum-magic or not. If it was forced there would be… consequences in this individual’s future.

“Hate ye? I could never,” Yvonne declared, stressing the importance of her words to banish the thought from Felicity’s mind. No wonder the berserker had been standoffish and unapproachable for so long. She thought there was hatred between them and one more false move might end their friendship, but that simply wasn’t the case. The grey dwarf was more complicated than a harbourer of fear and hatred, unlike many of her dark elven brethren.

“Someone else burdened ye with uncontrollable magic? An alchemist injected ye with nuclear power? How ye be ta blame for that? Why would I hold it against ye when I could hold it against them?” Yvonne challenged. Felicity’s tears softened the half-dwarf’s stern expression, the emotion in the teen’s voice spearing through her resiliency.

“I’ve come ta a crossroads, dear. I’d never met a fellow sufferer weighed down with magic, until now. I could turn me back on yer pain and run away in fear, or… I could face me fear with yer help, so that in time I might help ye too,” she offered, stating her options. Yvonne was scared, there was no doubt. Her trembling was intense, especially in her hands. Even the plain and simple act of talking about magic frightened her but she was pushing through. Her willpower was fortified when she put her mind to it. It would take a magic-siege to break her with her mind made up.

“I be sorry, for tha days of silence. I allowed ye ta expect tha worst, yer thoughts running amok. That wasn’t fair of me,” Yvonne conceded. “By way of apology ta ye, I will try ta learn about yer magic-burden. If I understand it, mayhap I will fear it less.”

Yvonne closed her tired silver eyes a moment, taking a deep breath to settle her nerves. She hugged herself, arms wrapping around her sides to create some kind of comfort feeling. It appeared absolutely childlike but was entirely necessary. Learning about magic was a courageous leap of faith out into an endlessly void-black bottomless pit of terror.

“Ye be forgiven yer misconduct, on one condition…” Yvonne smiled bravely, through fear overwhelming, looking into Felicity’s teary eyes again and taking hold of her attention.

“Ye try ta think of yerself with kindness,” Yvonne stipulated.

Felicity’s very life was brightened upon hearing Yvonne’s gentle reply. Waves of relief rolled in on her, soothing her in a fresh ocean breeze. As she gulped down every ounce of the young woman’s words, the liquid was like a soothing tea – despite the bits of tea bag grains still left in.

She looked away as Yvonne finished. Well, Felicity was quite the selfless soul. She despised the idea of hurting any of her friends. She would defend the innocent, fight for the weak… yet, one thing she struggled to do was love herself. It was ironic. Really, Felicity was much more of an individualist. She followed her own stars, dressing and acting the way she wanted. She was not a traditionalist or conformist… yet, she hated herself. She refused to follow any crowd, but she hated herself.

She still did not know why.

To make her matter worse, she could easily see how scared – no, terrified – Yvonne was. The half-dwarf was as tight and bunched up as the redhead. She hugged herself in fear, anxiety, over the mere topic of magic. It threatened to kill Felicity. She could barely watch her. The promise she made, however, to face her fear together if it meant helping Felicity, it was real. Raw, made in a pact of steel. Strong as the quality weapons forged in the half-drow’s hometown. Felicity went pale over it, but how could she turn her own? Especially when her stipulation for forgiveness was a little self-respect.

The teen’s chest was tight, throbbing, in her own anxiety. She felt a need for relief. Maybe, a thrill-seeking moment of excitement? Whenever she was faced with a problem, Felicity turned to whatever external freakshow she could find. The adrenaline, excitement… was a double-bladed sword. An alchemist and botanist, Felicity knew very well to stay away from the unhealthy, sickening drinks and drugs. Some people intoxicated to relieve their pain. Felicity coped by putting herself in the most extreme of situations, like a random hike through a foreign continent, in hopes of that next thrill high. Little did she realize at this time, that maybe her external focus was just as deadly to herself and others. Right now, however, she was stuck here. With duty and loyalty binding her to the situation, she stayed. Held captive and imprisoned by her feelings of warmth and friendship, she looked Yvonne in the eyes. Paranoid grey met devastated green.

The teen sighed. Desperate, she was willing to do anything for her select few friends. Her very fear of rejection forced her to say it, “Deal. Done.”

Her thoughts drifted towards her comments about the alchemist, Daisuke Toivonen, and how Yvonne addressed him. The girl shook her head. As she pulled greasy strands of thick red hair behind her ears, she spoke. “The alchemist, Daisuke, is… sort of a friend?” Even Felicity was confused about him, “He and my previous teacher thought it would be a good idea to help me grow stronger. By giving me powers. He had focused on a making some sort of serum a long time ago but remembered it when I came along.” The teen shuddered, “I was willing. I mean, Eiskaltian neanderthals have an affinity towards magic, what could go wrong?”

By the shaky tone in her voice, it was obvious. A lot had gone wrong.

The berserker looked down to her right hand, her mind scrutinizing over her abilities, “How they work, well. Every time I bleed, I become impervious to pain and get stronger. If I get hit a second time, third time, etcetera, it stacks. I get stronger, the nuclear energy trapped inside me gets more intense, and –“ She took a sharp breath as her anxiety continued to get worse. Her words were quick yet filled with so much bitterness and woe it could be just as potent as her nuclear radiation. “- I get angrier…”

She squeezed her hands as she continued on, “After all the research I, and others, have done. We still don’t know why.” Her desperation pierced the air, “But I lose control, lose my sanity, whenever this thing is activated.”

A humorless laugh briefly was let out. Her joyless smile shone like artificial moonlight as she shook her head. “Don’t ask me why. Daisuke made this potion and he doesn’t know. It’s a blessing and a curse. I appreciate the fact that I have this sort of power, I really do.” She lowered her head, “I just wish I could control it more than it controls me. It isn’t voluntary, I can’t make it turn off or on. It’s always there. I accidentally cut myself while cutting herbs? Boom! I fall and scrape my knee? Terror time. It-it always hounds my steps. It forever haunts me…”

Nerve-wracking phobia-fright pulled her away and maternal instincts for the teen’s well being drew her near. That’s why she remained so still. The conflicting feelings counterbalanced each other - didn’t cancel each other out mind you. She experienced both emotions - terror and compassion - together at once like a hurricane of tumultuous water and wind spiralling in and out of control. The Alerian listened, meditating amid the eye of the storm and there she felt contentment. She and Felicity had an accord.

The berserker understood a great deal about the effects her magic had on her, the results of it - what she knew from experience. Yvonne would have liked to understand the cause of its occurrence, why blood and injuries were triggers that set it off but it was clear Felicity did not know herself… and neither did that misleading weasel Daisuke.

Yvonne committed his name to her very long memory. Experimenting on an impressionable child, having no understanding of what was to be injected into the poor girl. How it would affect every facet of her life. He had converted an innocent child into a living weapon. It was reprehensible. It sounded exactly like something her dark elven brethren would do.

The slate-skin dwarf attempted to break her looming contempt before she blurted out something cruel and unnecessary. Perhaps in response to Felicity’s humourless laughter she decided to take the comical approach.

“Ye don’t get hurt, ye don’t go berserk? Yer saying all I need ta do with ye be ta wrap ye up in cotton wool from tip ta toe, and ye be fine? Oh I can do that - I be having more bandages about here somewhere…” Yvonne joked, rummaging through the medical kit she’d acquired free of charge, at Zrazire’s expense.

“Here we be, try this on for size!” the cheeky drow-dwarf directed teasingly, not serious in the least as she tossed the unrolling bandage through the air. It settled lightly and fully extended over Felicity’s lovely red locks and face. With a puff she blew the material out of her eyes, not that impressed.

“Kidding. I know me jokes need some work but I be trying here. Come on sweetheart, just a teeny weeny smile?” Yvonne requested, bestowing her own fond smile upon the angst-ridden teenager. They both needed a little break from the seriousness of it all, to catch their breath and renew their courage.

“If yer alchemist, this Daisuke,” she tested the name on her tongue and found it distasteful, “never fully understood his serum we may never understand how yer magic does what it does ta ye.” Her words sounded grim, grimmer than she would have liked, but the truth wasn’t always puppy dogs and rainbows. Her expansive mind scoured her thoughts, her memories, her knowledge, her wisdom for some kind of solution. An entire minute passed them by while she concentrated, silent. Eventually she spoke again - a strategy had come to mind but she wasn’t currently capable of executing on it.

“Mayhap there be a way we might respond ta it after it flares up though. They say sometimes it be best ta fight fire with fire. A clever phrase, ta use tha same tactic of yer adversary against them, even if ye find their method distasteful. Our situation be a little different. We be our own adversary and tha tactic we be unfamiliar with, but if magic does this ta ye… mayhap magic could undo this too. Like one of those - what do those Raiaeran’s call it--” Yvonne paused, digging deeper through her memories of rare occasions when magic had been discussed in her vicinity.

“--a dispelling spell,” she finally managed, her memory coming through for her. For some reason she didn’t feel afraid, afraid of the thought of a spell which would unmake magic. She felt hopeful.

“It’s more complicated than that,” Felicity shook her head. With the role of wrapping on her head, she reached up and pulled the distracting cloth off.

“This magic is literally a part of me.” She folded her arms as she cynically explained, “A friend of mine, Nevin, a dear person, helped me a lot in this research. We found out many things, like how exactly it affects my body. One thing is that it’s bound to my chemical makeup, maybe even my DNA. Trying to dispel my powers would be dispelling me. He used the word ‘deleterious.’”

The soft wind ruffled the palm leaves of the jungle trees. As the sound swept pleasantly through the camp, she lowered her arms into a self preserving hug. It was the anxiety. Her chest pounded in constricted pain. She still pushed on, “We’ve decided on medications that have helped. Blood thinners for thick blood, blood pressure pills for the blood pressure, lavender oil for the stress and anger issues, pinkleaf juice concoctions for the anger, angel tree syrup for the anger…” Her voice trailed off more and more as the list of anger reducers came up. She finally stopped, red cheeked, and nervously chuckled.

After the moment of embarrassment, she smiled, “We’ve made progress, Yvonne, believe me. We just aren’t one hundred percent there yet.” She waved her arm lightly as she looked towards her sword. Her expression narrowed as she spoke, “This ability is an incredible help in combat. I just-“ She stopped, stammered, closed her eyes. Her voice was lower, but still loud. “I am determined to control this beast. I will. I’ll prove them all wrong!” Her shout was aimed towards, well, her many discriminating and naysaying foes.

She turned her focus back towards Yvonne, looking back at her. “You probably wouldn’t understand, considering your culture, but I can make lemonade out of lemons, so to speak.” She smiled, “I believe this can work, with effort. It’s hard to see sometimes, but I can do this.”

She slumped again as a thought crossed her mind, “Back at the butcher’s, I-I had an anxiety attack.” She chuckled in a mixture of awkwardness and sadness, “I was thinking irrationally, it’s a symptom.” She held her hand out in a matter of factly gesture. “I’m not as, well… hopeless… as I sounded back there.”

She winced as she looked back. Yvonne’s mention of the phrase fire with fire only made her think more of the person she had her flashback of. She shuddered… In actuality, she despised that phrase.

Deleterious.

In spite of Yvonne’s extensive vocabulary she had never in her life heard that word uttered before. Her tutor had neglected to mention the word. The way Felicity portrayed its meaning filled the grey dwarf with terror. Her hope of imagining a spell that might prove beneficial proved to raise the hairs on the back of her neck instead - the thought she may have had an inclination to affect her friend with a spell that would erase her, leaving behind a dribbling vegetable was too much to bear. How could she have even thought of doing something so abominable?

How was she any different to this Daisuke person, who had thought it a marvelous idea to experiment on the poor teenager without considering the consequences? Isn’t that exactly the same impulse which had come to her mind? To play with metaphysical forces beyond her own understanding and subject her guinea pig to an idea of how to fix her? She felt like she needed to be sick, her stomach churning. In her mind there was little difference between them now, between Daisuke and herself - her morally superior self-righteousness collapsing into ruins as quickly as it was built.

Mayhap the sel darthirii were right. If even her first trepidatious thoughts toward the practice of magic resulted in negative responses, in mind-boggling guilt, perhaps there was truth to the stigma. She had, in a moment of weakness, considered the possibility that magic could bring her anything but fear and misery. It seemed very clear in this moment she had been wrong. The concept of wielding the energies of the arcane - despite all warnings to avoid it like the plague - had allured her, tempted her. Yvonne had dipped her toes into what appeared a warm, inviting bath on the surface, only to be burned by scalding, boiling water.

The magic hopeful felt crushed beneath the weight of a hundred Alerian voices in her head. They told her who she was, what she was to do, when she could speak, where her place was and why magic was to be avoided.

Yvonne listened, deathly silent and still.

A biting, stinging sensation pulled at her awareness, pain intensifying until it tugged her attention back to the present. Her little hand slapped a rather fat mosquito busy draining her of blood, squashing it to a pulp. She regretted the action instantly, pain of her fierce sunburn exploding from her neck - a tormented whimper escaping those black lips. She had no words, her desire to say anything further shutting down lest she suggest another horrible, personality-voiding solution for the sake of her own peace of mind.

Sometimes her existence felt like it was about taking two steps forward, one step back, as though for twice the effort she received half the reward. How quickly the tables of emotion could turn, from Yvonne attempting to raise Felicity’s spirits to the need for Felicity to lift her own. No, that wouldn’t be necessary. Yvonne possessed the willpower of a titan, or so she told herself. She could lift her own mind up.

“We should be going… into town,” the little woman said, sadness evident in her voice.

Shy sadness.

Shame?

Why?

Felicity raised a confused eyebrow. Confliction floated around her head over why the topic was changed. Yet, Felicity knew she herself did not like being pushed. She would wait for things to cool down a bit.

So, she followed Yvonne’s course of action.

She slid off the rock. Her feet hit the ground, causing a small dust cloud to fly up. She wiped the sweat from her brow and began to pack. A small bag was packed. Her blue bird, some containers and canisters, her alchemy kit, and some medical supplies. Money was shoved in afterwards, then she took her sword and hung it at her waistline.

She started towards the edge of the camp, closer to town. So much was racing through her head, causing her chest to pound. Yet, her “here and now” mentality pushed her to force cheerfulness around.

“Can’t wait to get into town,” She panted in a rapid voice, “It’s cold there!”

~ ~ ~

The walk there was devoid of any talk. Yvonne insisted on staying silent.

Donnalaich was as awe inspiring as ever. It was refreshing to feel the magical cooling of the town. As they walked upon to grand stone road, Felicity’s breath was sucked from her in bewilderment. The intricate detail the ancients of old put into this place was magnificent. The complex carvings and runes dug into the golden-hue marble was simply beautiful. The sound of thundering water surrounded them as many water fountains popped up in rest stops throughout the city. Upon coming across one massive pool, the temptation was too much for the teen.

She dropped her luggage and darted for the pool. She kicked off her boots and leapt into the cold water with a loud splash. The previously sweaty and sticky teen was met with the satisfaction of shivering in cleanliness. She stood under the large spout as it pooled clear, luminous water over her head. She was shaking from the cold. She loved it. Her troubles seemed to slip into the pool below, with the rest of the cast off dirt. She jumped into the deep waters and swam closer to the edge again. The half-neanderthal emerged and shook her head. Her now soaked hair flew, throwing sprinkles of water around. The girl let out a relieved sigh and for the first time in a long while… she laughed.

For the first time since her journey here began, she had fun. She chuckled as she proceeded to make waves in the pool. Her outfit had water pouring through and out it as she splashed and giggled. For all the troubles she faced, Felicity was still a youth. She was still a rowdy teen, whom needed to lighten up once in a while. Crystal clear water remained clean, a sign of even more magical presences, as she finished her light swim. She pulled herself out of the large, stone walling. Water dripped onto the burning hot, orange stone like a rainfall. She still laughed hysterically as she dragged her sloppy, frigid mess back over to her bags. The sunlight against the road stung, but she yanked her boots back on and proceeded to press onwards.

~ ~ ~

Many drakari cast odd, judgmental stares as the soaked teenager pulled herself up a grassy hill. The blades of green grass were long, blowing in a pleasant wind. Atop the large hill was a humongous tree. It seemed to be centuries old, with magic to enhance its growth. The three edged leaves grew on massive, twisted branches. The pale brown bark was scratchy and coarse. Numerous scars of termites, lightning strikes, or other calamities coated the tree's fat trunk. Yet here, within the city, it still stood strong.

Felicity threw herself into the ground, looking up. Through an absurdly thick canopy, hints of glistening bronze sunlight shone through dark green. Numerous vines from the tree hung low or wrapped around the trunk, which was the size of a house. Most vines however, emerald in color, were strung across the large, bold walls of Donnalaich’s olden buildings.

A single leaf fell on Felicity’s forehead. She closed her eyes. She had forgotten what they were even doing here at this point; she had been having so much joviality. Then –

- *Guuuurgle!* -

- Her stomach let out a loud rumble.

Her peridot eyes shot open.

Bearing witness to Felicity unwinding in one of many water fountains renewed Yvonne’s smile. The slate-skinned hybrid had been contemplative, brooding even, but seeing the teenager having a good time helped to clear her mind of her troubles. As though the fountain waters cleansed Felicity of her worries, at least for a while, in that moment the blistering climate meant nothing and their disagreements were set aside.

Yvonne didn’t particularly like the water. Well, not true - she appreciated everything natural but she’d not had to personally deal with large bodies of water. Her life experiences didn’t include swimming. The many months long voyage to Dheathain was incredibly difficult to endure, though she hadn’t needed to interact with the ocean. Remaining below deck and pretending the vessel was a wobbly tavern saw her through.
Booze and sleep made short work of long journeys.

Felicity shook her head, her hair whipping and spraying sprinkles of cold water everywhere. Yvonne - standing beside the pond - got covered in droplets. She bolted upright, spine straightened in surprise, hands shielding herself way too late.

“Me hair! Not me hair!” Yvonne complained, looking through her backpack for something to dry off with. Normally the half drow, half dwarf had exquisite perception, but with her attention in among her belongings she wasn’t prepared for what happened next…

Felicity snatched the petulant little mixed breed off the cobblestones with ease. Yvonne’s silver eyes ballooned out of her head, stomach dropping as the powerful adolescent lifted her small frame overhead.

“Put me down! FeliCITYYY! AHH!” Yvy commanded before crying out. The fiery redhead obeyed and plonked her into the fountain pool with a dwarf-sized splash. She quickly surfaced and scooped a handful of water back at her blood-sister, sploshing her right in the mush with it. Bursts of spray showered the both of them as they water-battled back and forth. Yvonne’s lovely straight hair was absolutely soaked. Giggles and squeals pierced through the roaring fountain deluge.

“Un-be-lieve-able! Tha nerve of ye!” she shouted, the biggest grin on her face.

~~~

Yvonne huffed and puffed, blowing the leaf from Felicity’s forehead. It caught the wind and danced on the twirling breeze. The breath startled her friend, but her grin asked forgiveness as she pointed to the leaf. Peridot eyes followed the gesture and watched the air currents take the leaf on a journey all of its own.

She reclined beside the relaxing warrior in the grass, basking in the canopy view above them. They’d just about dried out, not too wet any longer, for all the fountain-fighting they’d partaken in. She had been grateful to find a spot to settle down for a few moments, the sunbeams barely able to shine through the overlapping leaves on high. It felt wonderful, to rest her eyes in the shade.

The duo hadn’t been resting for long when someone disturbed them. His face was familiar, but Yvonne hadn’t anticipated meeting him again so soon. His voice boomed louder than she remembered.

“Here you are! I thought to find you at your camp, but only ashes remained! I worried you two had departed!” Shaseth shouted, breathing heavily. He took a moment recover some of his composure, but the concern in his draconian-slit eyes lingered. He never did calm down.

“Can’t get rid of us that easily. What be wrong, dear? Zrazire again?” Yvonne asked.

“No, I don’t think so. One of those mischief-making fae is destroying the city with magic, one building at a time. My home, it’s… ruined and I cannot afford to fix it now. I don’t own enough to trade for the repairs. I didn’t know who else to turn to! Please, Zrazire-puncher. Please, tiny matriarch… help me again. Help my family! They didn’t deserve this,” Shaseth pleaded. In spite of his hulking, scaly body he was well and truly on his knees, head bowed at their feet.

Felicity shot up in concern over what was taking place. Her eyes were wide in worry. The fae were purposefully destroying drakari homes? She knew fae were tricksters, but would they cause mass damage like that? Felicity’s fists tightened. As her hair still dripped with water, she quickly picked up her bags and pulled it over her. She gave their drakari friend a grim nod. We’ll get to the bottom of this…

She winced upon being reminded of the tussle with Zrazire. Yet, she turned her attention to an equally disturbed and darkened Yvonne. Their moment of play was over. They had to figure out what was going on with the drakari and fae.

~ ~ ~

On the way there, Felicity grabbed a bag of assorted nuts, glazed with honey.

Now, she followed behind Yvonne and Shaseth as they hastily moved downtown. Shoving in the high protein snacks as she jogged, Felicity followed them through the shadows of the darker section of town. It was insane how dilapidated it was. For the first time, Donnalaich really felt like a ruin. The only colors here seemed to be a hazy, cloudy, dull white. Some buildings were completely toppled down and destroyed, nothing but broken boulders and ashes remaining. The filthy cobblestone path was shaken and torn apart from earthquakes and erosion. Tropical weeds forced their way through the cracks, large and small, of this ancient grave.

It was humid here, the cooling magic not reaching this far. However, despite the heat, it felt chillingly cold. It was the very air this lonely, lifeless sector of town provided. This used to be the home of a distant, ancient race that somehow completely fell into shadow. How did they go extinct? Were they massacred or was it slow? How could such a magnificent race, capable of growing trees legions taller than deemed natural, completely die out? Felicity’s steps were much slower than the others. She even stopped eating as she gazed across the entirety of this despair. As rubble slowly crumbled down a two-story house, she felt a deep sadness take over her.

The people who lived here must have met a sorry fate.

Her eyes were coated in childish anguish. Her face somber was grief as she stepped through the musty smelling streets. Sunlight dimly shone through, illuminating the dust flying around. The very atmosphere here seemed to bow its head in silence over lives millenniums lost, forgotten. Felicity looked down, seeing a doll made of hay and cloth half buried in a mound of pebbles below. She hastily shut her eyes, holding the tears back, as she marched on. She followed her two companions through the ruined city.

If the fae, or whoever else ruined Shaseth’s home, were not stopped; the drakari could meet the same fate.

~ ~ ~

Felicity lept through a hanging, ripped piece of cloth, over a large boulder. As she landed on her feet squarely, she looked up. About one hundred people, drakari and fae alike, were huddled, crying calling out, and seeking shelter in the travesty before them.

This place had the same, dreary atmosphere as the ruins they past. The difference was that the damage was clearly recent. Wooden beams and stone walls has crumbled. A single drakari father pulled his little girl under a blanket as she cried out, a deep cut over her scaly face. One fae was holding his hand over his head, exasperated and devastated, as he surveyed the complete obliteration of his own home. Felicity’s eyes were widened as the noise of it all overloaded in her ears, causing a loud clanging inside her head. Now, tears came. As white dust made the air foggy, hard to see that far ahead, Felicity had to watch her step as she dodged a series of planks toppled over each other. She barely could keep up with Shaseth as he weaved his way through the broken crowd and ruined street. Although her eyes were blurred with tears, she heard one solid thing up ahead.

Shouting. An immersive amount of shouting. Arguments.

”How could we have done this?? We have lived together in harmony and now our homes are destroyed too! You did this!”

“No! The drakari and honorable. The fae are just lying, cheating scum! You must have done this!”

Felicity hastily wiped the wetness from her eyes. She joined Yvonne as they pushed through the hazy scene, to where a large crowd of bickering drakari and far held their dispute.

Yvonne hastily kept pace with Shaseth’s long, heavy-footed strides but needed to take two or sometimes three steps to keep to his one. The scaly humanoid led the pair of women through a part of the city in stark contrast to that which they’d explored thus far. Some of the buildings barely remained standing - the deep dwarf couldn’t comprehend how some of the structures hadn’t collapsed, and yet, squatters and refugees made do with them as their homes. It all seemed so, so dangerous, but they had convinced themselves of no other choice.

Heartache in her chest; it felt too much to endure, to come to grips with the reality of Donnalaich and its poorer inhabitants. Suffering appeared all around her, nothing but the sick, the dying, the essentially homeless. Exposed to the elements, these people would be constantly troubled by the region’s monsoonal weather conditions with a leaky roof to shelter them at best. It hurt so much, to see these drakari, fae and even the occasional human struggling to survive - their ragged blankets and their cobblestone pillows.

“Why do they live like this, Shaseth? Why doesn’t anyone help them?” Yvonne asked, pained expression and concerned eyebrows.

“Rebuilding a city is a tremendous undertaking, tiny matriarch. Over time we have restored much, as you saw throughout other parts of Donnalaich. Here, unfortunately there have been some setbacks. Demotivation swiftly followed,” Shaseth replied earnestly.

“Why invest so much in superfluous water fountains, but so little in tha livelihood of tha poor?” the confounded half-and-halfling continued to question, anger entering her tone.

“Err, leadership has been rather… lacking of late, matriarch. The fae rulers can be… how would you say-- fickle at times. They may have forgotten we even exist, I’m afraid,” the large drakari answered, gesturing for Yvonne to remain calm, worry to his eye-slits.

She didn’t like that response. No, not at all, but she knew Shaseth had told her the truth to the best of his knowledge. That didn’t mean she had to like it. A burning desire overwhelmed her grief, a drive to change everything - all of this devastation - into what it should have been by now. She couldn’t stand this much longer, walking away from beggars sitting on the roadside and those passive, resistless eyes staring back at her, watching them go by.

Yvonne stopped a moment to take in one building in particular, an utter shambles so ruined nobody lived in it any longer. Debris and scattered stone mingled together all around her feet, most of the supporting columns broken and the majority of the roof already laying among the grass. The door no longer seemed attached to its hinges, windows broken and the walls looked like someone had been pushed through them.

“How did one fae do all of this?” Yvonne wondered.

“Oh, no. That wasn’t the fae’s doing. My neighbour Esqkart lived there with his wife until recently. They had a… um, a disagreement,” the drakari stated, ever unsure of himself.

A tile slid off the roof and shattered on the ground, not so far from the speculative crossbreed who hopped well out of the way after that.

“Oh. Ye can say that again!” she declared, rejoining Felicity and their drakari guide.

The shouting, the fighting between the innocent inhabitants of Donnalaich was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Drakari blaming the fae folk, the fae defending themselves and pointing their fingers at their larger brethren. So many voices booming loudly in Yvonne’s keen elven ears, the high-pitched notes of the frustrated fae like nails down a chalkboard. She couldn’t take it. She wouldn’t take it.

Absolutely not.

Yvonne glanced back at Felicity, heaving a big sigh for her little frame. These people needed a stern talking to. They should have been working together, helping each other through their troubles and what were they doing? Bickering; absolutely despicable.

“Remember how ye picked me up and plonked me into tha water earlier?” the little hybrid foreshadowed a future event with a past one.

“Yes, that was funny before… This ain’t a matter to-- to-- to be laughing about, Yvonne,” Felicity said.

“No, I know. Do ye think ye could pick me up again and hurl me onto that roof there? If I not be too heavy, that be,” Yvonne proposed.

“Pssh… Yvonne, how high would you like to-- to fly?” the fiery teen boasted.

“Just onto tha roof, if ye please. Don’t go throwing me half way back ta Alerar, ye cheeky devil,” the wee woman said flatly, arms folding defensively. Soon after her companion collected her off the ground and prepared to swing her upward.

An easy exertion for Felicity and the petite drow-dwarf soared up a storey, feet safely touching down on the half-crumbled roof. It was an adequate position from which to project her voice, a place where everyone who heard her would be able to turn and see. The shouting, arguing back-and-forth between the homeless had not grown quieter in the interim. It was beginning to give her a headache. Yvonne put two fingers in her mouth and unleashed one of the most shrill, ear-splittingly sharp, penetrating whistles that drakari and fae ears had ever heard.

That got their attention. The dispute paused and the uproar died down, perhaps a hundred heads turning to see what that painful noise was. Many spotted her up on the building - some pointed for others to see, so those who hadn’t figured out the black dwarf had made the whistling sound could know too. While their attention was hers, she spoke with a booming, commanding speech.

“Listen ta me! Quiet now, listen a moment,” Yvonne began, clearing her throat loudly. “I know yer afraid! I know yer confused! Nobody offers ta help ye or yer kin - yer hungry, cold and tired, out here on tha streets! Ye want ta know why! Ye want ta know how ye ended up like this! Ye need ta know why yer homes be in shambles, why ye can’t keep tha rain off - WELL I’LL TELL YOU! It be because ye haven’t FIXED yer homes! It be because ye STOPPED working together! It be because yer FIGHTING WITH EACH OTHER, INSTEAD OF SOLVING YER ISSUES!”

Yvonne exhaled her annoyance, letting her message sink in as she inhaled another breath, to prepare another serve.

“That said I be very disappointed ye TURNED ON EACH OTHER in yer hour of need! Cut it out right now! Me companion and I will sort out these setbacks yer been having! Mark me words, NOW we make a change! What I need from all of ye be COOPERATION, IT NOT BE HARD, shake hands, pat tha person next ta ye on tha back and HELP ME GET ON WITH IT! UNDERSTAND!?

A hushed silence had befallen them all - blissful, peaceful, troubled silence. Expressions on their numerous faces were varied, some angry, some despondent, others shocked or fearful or stubborn. It didn’t matter. All she needed was one person to make the first positive change and the rest would follow. The more of them who joined the first few the smaller and smaller the group of obstinate naysayers would become. Sooner or later those naysayers would be the outcasts, left to their quibbling and nitpicking while everyone else rebuilt their community.

“We will find tha vandal who be making yer lives harder, but ye did so much of this ta yerselves! When I COME BACK I want ta see some of these homes REBUILT! Everyone WILL work together! A HUNDRED of you will build a house in a DAY! We will shelter together in the functional houses like a FAMILY until we rebuild more! MAKE IT HAPPEN! Any PROBLEMS with that, come see ME, YVONNE MYTHRILMANTLE!”

Yvy glanced down at Felicity, readying herself to jump off the roof and making sure the incredibly strong teenager would catch her before she connected with the ground.

Felicity’s eyes widened as Yvonne made her challenging speech.

She was bold. Fearless. The small, stout dwarf was confident and sure. She had absolutely zero qualms pointing out every flaw in the system. Every crack in the supporting beams of the structure. She took control, exactly like in Zrazire’s shop. Yvonne Mythrilmantle was in town, and she was boss.

Felicity felt proud. For the first time, she felt as if she was looking up to her (quite literally.) Just like Ashla or Nevin, she watched the tiny drow with a dazzle in her eyes. Respect. Yvonne commanded it. There was no objection in the crowd as she completely told them off – then offered to help – on the condition that they help each other.

Yet, as Yvonne stood atop the roof, her stadium, another emotion pricked and poked at her.

What was it? Felicity did not know. Something in her subconscious warned her of some sort of danger. Was it fear? Felicity could not tell. Why should she be afraid? Yvonne always had Felicity’s back, from the moment they met. Why was a level of anxiety jumping in her chest. Light fuzziness, sizzles and pops, fluttered in her chest. Her heartbeat tripled. For a moment, her hands felt oddly numb.

She did not even notice that Yvonne was waving her hand at her, to catch her as she jumped down.

Felicity’s unfeeling, light, tingling hands twitched. She bit her lip, frustrated over how her body just did this occasionally. Just like Felicity could not read Yvonne’s expression through the white haze, however, Yvonne would not be able to see her own face. Her face was pale as even more sweat started to drip from her forehead. Felicity took several steps, which felt so odd, closer to the building. Pebbles crunched beneath her boots as she summoned enough strength to extend her hands. As images of a cloaked woman in black snuck through her head, Felicity squinted. Yvonne needed down. She could not risk feeling her wrath directed at her!

Eyes of infuriated ice flashed briefly in her vision. She felt herself go numb again, right before she felt a heavy weight in her arms.

Yvonne.

It took all her strength to hold her as her arms shook. It was strange. Yvonne was usually like a feather. Her entire body vibrated as she carefully, albeit quickly, set Yvonne down. Shy eyes darted away, yet her next action was immediate.

“O-Okay, where do we find the vandal?”

Her ever present anger slithered up to the forefront as she slammed a fist into her hand, “Let’s get that punk.”

The thoughts in her head were much more fragile, however. As the drakari and fae started to gather, cross, and murmur; the teen looked up. Through the grey smog that the rubble created, she watched the dim but scorching sun faintly beat down on them. She could possibly be in a moment of disassociation – or just spacing out. Even the ear piercing crowd seemed so far away. Although, the sweat could be attributed to Dheathian's heat. The shaking? Felicity could always point to her high metabolic rate. Regardless, she was still so distant within the moment. Her arms shook once again. As she lowered them, letting them drop, she asked herself a hard question. Why does Yvonne remind me of Ayleth?

Felicity seemed to be distracted a moment, preoccupied with her thoughts. Hopping down from the roof-top took a while but soon enough Yvonne had the neanderthal’s go ahead to do so. She jumped and, as the strong woman caught the dwarven hybrid, Felicity’s arms seemed weaker than when they’d thrown her onto the roof in the first place.

Yvonne looked at her friend with concern and confusion. Suddenly I be more than ye can bear? What be tha matter? The neanderthal warrior hastily averted her eyes and changed the subject, before her well-being became the subject.

Still worked up from giving her speech to the Dheathainian people, the half-and-halfling glowered. I thought we be doing so well, talking our feelings through. Why go back? Achromatic eyes turned on Shaseth, their drakari guide, who answered Felicity’s question before she could. Well, we not be alone any more. That must be it. Mayhap we can revisit this later.

“If we knew where to find the vandal, we would have dealt with them ourselves,” Shaseth answered. “We don’t know where they’re hiding, who they are or how many among their number. We have a few opinions, but… well, better to avoid wild goose chases,” the scale said, deciding on restraint. Shaking his head and walking on, through the crowd, he beckoned that they follow.

“Come, I will show you to my home. You can both see the damage for yourselves and draw your own conclusions.”

~~~

Cold timber walls surrounded the trio as they stepped inside the drakarian hovel. Thatched roofing loomed overhead, made of straw, packed tightly together and secured with cord. Thatch couldn’t be the ideal roofing solution in a tropical rainforest as it currently dripped water to the floor below. Animal skins decorated the flooring, draped over chairs and hung like curtains in doorways.

Shaseth’s family huddled around a dancing, luminous campfire at the heart of the main room. It warmed their home passably, but hissed occasionally as drops of water fizzled into vapour at flame’s touch. His drakari mate arose from beside the fire and their forlorn children, to welcome him home and to embrace him. The children lingered near the warmth, barely looking up at their father or the new arrivals.

“Hello beloved. These are the two of which you spoke earlier?” she questioned with a hint of suspicion.

“Yes, these ones confronted Zrazire. They have come to aid us once more, in the search for the vandal. Such is their generosity,” Shaseth explained, speaking highly of them.

“Who will fix our roof? Who will replace our windows?” his wife prompted, an edge to her voice and worry for her children creasing her brow.

“Everything will be fine soon, dearest. You will see. They will find the vandal and put an end to all of these problems,” the drakari husband stated.

“I do not want to hear anything more about vandals!” Shaseth’s wife declared. “I am thinking of our cubs, our home and so should you!”

“Of course I think of our cubs. I think of our home and the homes of our neighbours, Shaseth insisted. “The culprit needs to be caught so we can all carry on.”

Yvonne smoothly intervened before their argument spiraled out of hand.

“Mayhap we might see these windows? See if there be something we can do?” Yvonne asked gently, seeking permission from their guide’s wife. Shaseth needed no further convincing.

The lady drakari huffed, sighing. “You may as well,” she said, resigned. She turned and walked to an adjoining archway where she parted the animal skin curtain for them, looking back. Yvonne followed with Felicity close behind, however one of Shaseth’s sorrowful children stepped in between them and looked up at Felicity with wide, snake-like eyes.

The neanderthal hybrid stopped to give the little drakari girl before her a moment of her time. Yvonne looked over her shoulder and listened, waiting patiently. The drakeling wore her dark brown hair in dread-lock pigtails, her face almost entirely covered in emerald scales save her mouth and chin. She stared into the teenager’s eyes without blinking, her lower lip and chin quivering as though she wanted to say something, but didn’t know that she should. On the verge of tears, she gestured with an infantile claw for the redheaded hybrid to come closer.

Felicity knelt down and met the little one on her level, giving the drakari cub a reassuring smile. “W-w-what’s the matter, sweetheart?”

The little drake girl pouted, looked down. “Will you fix our--” she started, but her mother quickly cut her off.

“Jesnys! We don’t speak with strangers, do we?” the suspicious parent stated more than questioned.

“...but I--” Jesnys attempted.

“No buts,” her mother said.

Tears welled up in child’s big azure eyes, her lower lip trembled - the quiet of the storm. She bawled her eyes out, wailing and giving her mother tone in her voice even as she cried.

“--but I only wanted to play on the seesaaww! My seesaw doesn’t-- seesaaww anymore!” the drakeling complained, sniffling loudly and wiping at the tears wetting her scales.

“Enough, Jesnys, let the stranger pass.”

The child’s tears provoked her own.

Silent tears spewed down her cheeks. Even something as insignificant as a seesaw caused her wrap her arms around herself. As dust particles buzzed around them, Felicity lifted a hand and rubbed at her puffy eyes.

This was all so much to take in.

This place was like the war zones described by her late cousin, a Coronian Ranger, a long time ago. Toppled buildings, destroyed lives… She herself had never seen anything like this ruined neighborhood. Why? Why would someone do this? Who dared to set these innocent folks back so far? Their lives were not playthings! This building should still be firm and strong.

This girl should still have her seesaw.

As she continued to bawl, the drakari woman yanked her away. She gave Felicity a warning glare so deep, even through her tears she felt the burning. “Don’t talk to my daughter.”

Still kneeling, looking up at her, Rhyolite’s fist tightened. Lips were stiffened and barred together. Her eyes were fuming with a kind of rage before she looked down. For all the physical signs of stress, her voice was… timid.

“I’m trying to help you.”

Shaseth’s wife just increased in her fury. Dragon’s steam emerged from her lips as she growled, “You cannot help us, little girl!”

The child shrunk back, body pressed against the crumbling, stone wall. She felt the tension. It terrified her. She continued to wail loudly as Felicity shot up. Something inside her screamed at the words. She could not help her? How? Felicity was every bit capable, no matter what anyone told her. The discriminating Eiskaltians were wrong, the Coronian Rangers were wrong, Ayleth was wrong. She could barely hold herself back, riding an angry storm with no obvious trigger. Under tremendous stress, the hothead pulled her balled fists behind her waistline. Her face drew closer to the woman’s as she hissed.

“Just watch me save you.”

The woman crossed her arms, taking a frustrated step back. “Nobody can save us, child! Things have always been this way! It will never change!”

Felicity’s offended stance sharply died down as she heard despair in her voice. The woman turned away, exhausted. Head lowered, she sighed, “Nobody can help us…”

“Mo-mommy?” Another child, still hunkered by the fire, chirped in deep fear.

Tears in her eyes, she looked away from her children.

Another form of anger started to boil. Felicity and Shaseth’s sweetheart were one in the same. They were obviously worried and angry about everything, so they backlashed at anyone they could. Bold determination crossed Felicity’s green eyes. She caught a mistake; now to fix it. Her body was up straight, alert, yet her facial features were now soft. In a bitter, remorseful, soothing tone, she spoke.

“Watch me. I promise, it’ll get better.”

As musty, foul smelling droplets fell from the straw roof, Felicity saw how pathetic this family was. Starved, alone… this was no way to live. If nobody had tried to help, she would help. If others tried and failed, she would rise the first victor. Yvonne and Felicity’s resolves were a perfect match. Felicity stepped through the dark, wet room as she stood next to the dwarf. “Watch us. Yvonne and I will fix everything.”

“E-even-“ the once bawling child had slowed down, but her quivering lip still hinted at another upcoming meltdown. “Seesaw?”

Felicity smiled, a small yet powerful dose of warmth flooded her bitter heart, “Yes!” She chuckled, “Including the seesaw!”

Yvonne smiled too and looked to her friend with admiration. The half-dwarf reached out and gave Felicity a few soft pats upon her arm. With that simple gesture of approval she turned away stepped toward the animal-skin archway. No longer did she focus on her but the words she spoke benefited the teenager alone.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself. Yer going ta make a wonderful mother some day--” she acknowledged, sweeping the skin aside and passing through. The pelt fell back into place with a swoosh and she continued, distant, “--and make a little tike happy ta have a mama like ye,” finishing her sentence on the other side.

Shaseth embraced his wife in the main room while Yvonne explored a brief corridor that forked both left and right. Off to the left appeared to be the sleeping quarters of husband and wife. Prying from the hallway she could make out the wide double bed within, no doubt cushioned with little more than straw bedding and linen blankets. She noticed a fur covering strewn across one corner however its origin couldn’t be discerned. A wooden chest rested parallel to the foot of the bed, secured tightly.

There didn’t seem to be anything out of place. With the master bedroom relatively undamaged Yvonne spun on her heel and gazed into the room of two drakari cubs. Child-like decorations hung upon the walls, claw-paintings and scribbles. The drow-dwarf had a hunch that the quieter child expressed herself through art, and they wouldn’t hear much from her any other way.

Stepping into the children’s room the black dwarf realized why this family felt so rattled.

She had never in her entire life set goggled eyes on anything like the far-wall window.

The glass had been shattered from the outside-inward, but fractured pieces did not lay scattered across the floor in a dangerous hazard underfoot. Instead they remained, as if trapped in the moment the window broke, caught in a supporting crystallization of dripping ice. Held, floating above the ground until the ice melted away and released its frigid clutch on its jagged, glass prisoners.

No wonder the drakari husband had desperately sought them out. Of course his wife felt suspicious of strangers in her home. It seemed the safety of their children had been threatened.

Yvonne subconsciously took a step away from the window and reversed into Shaseth’s hulking form. He blocked the doorway. She turned and glanced up at him, her brows conveying how troubled she felt with the discovery. Her silver eyes searched his for any answers she could find, but with none forthcoming she struggled to look at the ice-pierced window again. She couldn’t do it.

“What do you make of it, tiny matriarch?” Shaseth inquired apprehensively.

“I-- I don’t know Shaseth,” she admitted, fearful. “It scares me. Please, let me go.”

“You said you would help us. Please, help us,” he pleaded.

“I will but ye need ta let me out of this room,” Yvonne stressed, her voice heightening.

Reluctance waged war with acceptance. Eventually acceptance won and he shifted sideways to allow the little one an escape route, breathing a frustrated sigh of dragon steam. His slit-eyes remained fixed on the frozen ice-pulse which had solidified the broken window of his daughters. Even now it dripped onto the wooden flooring beneath, pooling into a thin puddle of water.

While Yvonne checked the corridors, Felicity made way towards the door. Maybe, checking out that leaky roof would give the duo clues. As she stepped outside, she silently reflected off of Yvonne’s comments on her being a potential mother. She had a certain desire to start a family, yes, but it was in the distant future. When she stopped exploring, maybe. When her longing to see and save the world died down. Alongside her restlessness in life, there was another roadblock in that future as well… fear. Fear whispered that she had no idea how to be a mother, as she never knew her mother that well herself. Fear grimly growled into her ears that no man could love her eitherway. Why would they? She was a… meager spec of dust.

She growled, tightning her fists. Her boots waded in a puddle, and she was suddenly drawn back to the present. She turned around, facing the house. Now, the roof was too high to get a good view. Felicity crossed her arms, contemplating. She needed a solid vantage point…

There! Next to the house, a withered old tree sprouted just high enough to get a good view. She grinned, walking up to the tree. She started to climb with ease, the athlete she was. Yet, halfway up, she grew confused. The flakey, aged bark was wettened with cold frost. The air felt unusually cold, especially for Dheathian. The air felt, smelled even, crisp and cool. And... that feeling... that odd feeling. The same feeling she had back at the city's entrance came back. Why? What was she sensing, feeling, that was here?

- Then, trouble - she gasped, having to snatch a branch as she lost her footing! For a wretchedly long moment, the tree creaked and groaned as she held on. Her strength bolstered by a cut in her arm, she hoisted herself up with unbridled, heated resolve.

As mild, faintly noticeable, stinging pain returned to her hand, she looked down. She had not caught it before, but a small sheet of ice completely covered a section of bark. This was what she slipped on, almost fallen from the tree. She bit her lip. That strange sense grew stronger up here. She felt it in ripples as she looked up.

Her eyes widened.

The entire roof was encased in ice. Solid, brutal winter ice. Her land of birth was Eiskalt, so she knew ice. Ice should not just make up a second layer of roof, smooth and hard like that. Even then, the melting ice at the bottom was obviously causing the leaks. Yet, as for Felicity…

Her heart pounded. Sweat burst despite the chill in the air. Her eyes widened, arms and legs going ever so slightly numb.

Her mouth gaped. The ice reminded her of clearly of…

“… Ashla …”

“How am I to trade for glass? No telling when another Fallieni merchant will come to our market. What kind of father boards up the window of his children?” Shaseth questioned with exasperation.

“A worried father,” Yvonne whispered under her breath as she hurried into the corridor. She had to get away from that magical horror. Her breathing had quickened, her heart raced. No telling who would scare children out of their beds without an obvious reason, seemingly out of no other desire than to cause damage. If the vandalism had been a means to an end - to break and enter for instance - to steal valuables the hybrid could understand. They would have disturbed more of the hovel in that case, the parent’s room being a most likely place to find stashed wealth, yet everything appeared in its place there.

Destruction for destruction’s sake? Why? That be so… so dull. Wouldn’t tha vandal need an intention, a purpose? What could that be? This be a show of magic ta inspire distrust between drakari and fae? What could someone gain by dividing tha people and setting them at each other’s throats? These citizens don’t pose a threat even if they banded together into a militia. They live in poverty. Giving them a shakedown wouldn’t rattle any valuables loose. None of it makes sense ta me.

It must have been a message, but to who? This home wasn’t the only building weathering an unnatural blizzard, so Shaseth and his family weren’t being individually targeted. It could have been an attempt to draw the attention of the fae rulers, make them focus on the state of their city. The people of these slums desperately needed help and the government ignore them. Was this vandalism a cry for attention?

In that moment Yvonne felt them. Fingers even smaller than her own touching her trembling hand. Her thoughts disrupted, the half-and-halfling turned to notice who made the gesture. The silent child wanted to hold her hand, give her some reassurance. Kindness from one so young took her by surprise.

A scaled baby face and narrow draconian eyes looked up to the dark-skinned stranger in her home, concern plain as day in spite of concealing snake-like features. The little one took Yvonne by her hand and quietly walked toward the children’s room, pulling her ebony arm. The dwarf hybrid expressed her unease with going back in there, near that icy shatter-magic, but the drakari girl had made up her mind.

“Show you,” she said. Nothing more. Why were the quiet ones those which you had to keep an eye on? They were always full of surprises.

“What do ye need ta show me child?” Yvonne asked hesitantly, slowly following behind her new leader.

“Kelzys? What are you up to sugarplum?” Shaseth wondered as the two of them passed in front of him and reentered the room.

“Showing,” Kelzys responded, rolling her eyes at her father. She took Yvonne matter-of-factly toward her drawings hanging on the wall, ignoring the ice sculpture window in the far wall, pointing at one scribbled individual in particular. She rapped her tiny spiked nail upon the drawing a few times, giving the impression the scribbles held all the answers. “Him,” she revealed.

“He be tha vandal?” Yvonne asked, confirming for clarity.

“He did,” the drakari youngling stated and as soon as those two words left her lips she walked out of the room again, returning to her sister’s side most likely.

Yvonne stared intently at the juvenile, slapdash markings, attempting to commit every detail to memory. The drawing wasn’t detailed, the lines wobbled and the creature had a disproportionate head to his limbs, but every clue would be important. The hybrid’s mind shouted gremlin, but the longer she looked at it the more she resettled on fae. His face had a single, too big teardrop at cheek level. It wasn’t much however she would thank Kelzys for trying to capture a picture of the vandal as best she could.

Searching for Felicity brought Yvonne outside. The redheaded half-neanderthal seemed to lost in some kind of hazy, glassy eyed daze, perched up in the nearest tree. A sight to see, that one. What exactly had she been doing out here? What had Felicity found that seemed so intriguing, it held all of her attention? A moment of thought jogged her memory.

“Oh! Right, we be going ta fix tha seesaw for tha wee tikes,” Yvonne said, catching on mistakenly. She had a tool for just such an occasion! Unhooking the cogwheel saw from its attachments to her backpack, she wound the device up with a small, rotating handgrip, around and around until it didn’t wind any more. After that she set the spinning blade horizontally against the base of the tree, taking bits and pieces out of the trunk with a loud searing noise. The drow-dwarf would have the tree toppled in about a minute’s time.

A purple sky, coated in clouds and sprinkled with stars, hung over the landscape. Raiaera's ill grasslands hosted a few sick trees, spotted here and there. The village they entered was pathetic. Hatch roofed cottages were poorly designed. The sheer amount of waste, mud, and overgrown pastures were enough to make one vomit. Felicity had to cover her nose as she followed her half-elf teacher towards a pub.

Lightning bugs swarmed around the flame lit lanterns as her teacher boldly marched through thick mud. The brown ooze was putrid, Felicity was sure it was not just mud they were walking through, yet the woman paid no notice. About ready to puke, the fifteen year old waded through the squishy stuff with clear revolt on her face. She had no idea why they were here.

“A-Ash – I mean!” Felicity kept forgetting her mentor’s new, weird pet peeve, “Ayleth, what are we doing here?”

Ayleth guided them towards a larger building, triple times as long as the tiny stick houses. The hay roofed building was surprisingly reinforced with stone. The hanging sign above the door read The Mad Stallion. A tavern.

Ayleth stepped up the small, two steps. She tracked mud and horse dung behind her, “A mass murderer named Evander Songsliver frequents this pub. We’re here to end his crime spree.”

Felicity was weirded out by her choice of words. Then again, it made sense. Ashla recently lost her husband. It tore her apart so much, she left everything else behind. While sailing a passenger boat, Ashla kept to herself, alone in her quarters. She barely ate, rarely coming out the entire trip. Not wanting to disturb her after such a loss, Felicity let her be. Right after they landed in Raiaera, Ashla seemed dead set on some sort of goal she kept hidden from her. Felicity only could hope Ashla – or Ayleth’s – darker mood was only a temporary result of grief.

“The nearest Bladesinger is, like, twenty miles away,” Felicity protested, “Are we really going to escort him the whole way?”

Ayleth did not respond, instead opening the shabby door to the pub. The moment the door opened, they were met with the lonely sound of a bard strumming his off tune lute, attempting to master it. The rum even smelled awful, the elven inhabitants barely drank it. Instead, only a small group gambled in the corner as several others spoke of their hopeless businesses over a round, crude oak table. The pub was quiet and depressed. Felicity doubted there was a criminal master housing here.

Ayleth seemed more sure of it, boldly walking towards the tavern. The quite sad looking bartender, with a pathetic frame and long, thin, greasy hair, continued to rub a stain off his counter. “How may I-“

Ayleth cut him off, her voice loud and stern, “Evander Songsliver. Where is he?”

The group of talking elves turned from their mushy, tasteless mashed potatoes. They watched the young woman with intrigued discomfort in their blank eyes. Felicity felt butterflies flutter in her stomach as deathly silence ensued. Several long, uneasy seconds later, Ashla sharply pulled a dagger. Felicity gasped in shock as her leader pointed it at the keep. In a bitter, quiet, emotionless voice, she threatened, “I asked you a question. If you don’t answer me, I will hurt you.”

The tavern keep immediately voiced Felicity’s bewildered, frightened thoughts, “You-you can’t-“

The brunette jumped onto the filthy counter. The growing crowd of spectators shouted in shock as she drove her boot into his chin, sending him back. His back hit the shelf behind him. He fell, a multitude of empty shot glasses falling around him. Some hit his body, letting blood.

Felicity extended her hand, stepping forward in stunned horror, “Ash-“

Ayleth shouted this time, a dark seriousness to be heard in her voice, “It will be the knife next time! Tell me, where is he!?!”

Terrified, obviously, he cried out in horror, “In the back! My only bedroom! Go take him, just please spare me!”

As he held his various cuts from the glass, Ayleth lowered her blade. Apathy stung as she put it away, “Thank you.”

She hopped down the counter. Felicity watched, pale and wide eyed, as Ayleth stormed past her. “Come, Felicity.”

Felicity only could take a couple frightened steps towards the entryway Ayleth swung open. She disappeared into the dark room. Felicity stood there, sick to her stomach, as the sound of a sword unsheathing sounded. Then…

*Slithk!*

A gasp, a cry, a whimper… Silence .

Felicity finally lost her lunch.

Several moments after the murder, Ayleth emerged from the room. Blood stained her black blouse. Her sword was in its sheath, but she held a blood stained rag in her hand. She tossed it into a garbage tray like it was nothing of concern. Zero emotion showed on her ice cold face as she stalked towards the door, “Job done. Let’s move on.”

As she disappeared out of the door, Felicity’s mind spun. Lightheaded, she barely kept her balance. Fear bolted through her body, devastating like lightning, as she stood frozen.

She-she’s just- Tears welded up as she vainly comforted herself, It-It’s a phase, that’s all! The grief is getting to her. She’ll be back to her old self soon… right?

As tears pounded the floor, her heart thudded with the weight of lead. When she heard her name called from the door, it took every ounce of strength in her being to follow. Her steps were hesitant and full of foreboding.

~ ~ ~

An unstable creak pulled her out of the trance. Atop the branch, she gazed upon the frozen over roof. Wait, was that… a blade buzzsawing through wood?

She eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as she looked down. A shriek escaped her as she cried, “YVONNE!”

She hastily leapt down the entire tree. Her sturdy frame barely took the collision with the earth, dealt no harm. She had landed on her feet, a dirt cloud floating after the thud. She rose, eyes riddled with panic and fear. It seemed unnatural, the way she took a step back, throwing her hand. “What were you thinking?!” The scream rang across the ruined street. All the people nearby stopped and stared at the growing scene. Freshly awoken from a traumatic flashback, Felicity had an unbridled rage and terrified fear behind her voice. She was pale, sweating, shaking. Yvonne seemed speechless, shocked, as the redhead continued to rant, “Who knows where this tree could fall! It could of killed me or toppled over the house, you-“

With a bellowing moan, the tree fell safely against the ground, diagonal from the yard. Right next to it, the broken seesaw awaited its reforging. As the branches and leaves still resounded in shaken defeat, the seventeen year old fumed, regardless of the safe outcome.

She started to hyperventilate. Ice cold eyes, frozen, zapped in and out of vision. The sounds. Oh, those terrible sounds of death, torture, screaming. Red. The color red resonated in her mind. Right there, Yvonne stood. Right there. Was Yvonne just like her? The question was ridiculous, but the all consuming anxiety cared not. Fear. So much fear. She gasped, her chest tightening in pain as a mass panic attack shredded her violently to pieces; from the inside out.

Her thoughts were disjointed, broken.

Need to get away! Run! Run!

What if this bond she had so fondly forged broke like that again?

She'll bring you pain! Hurt you!

It happened once, it would happen every other time.

RUN!

Felicity turned and ran away from it all.

Fear.

Fight or flight kicked in. Flight won.

Unrelenting fear.

Tears fell from her face, leaving a trail of agony behind.

Unbearable fear.

She cried, mouth gaped. Eyesight blurred. Tunnel vision took over. She had no idea where she was running.

She just had to run.

Fear.

Yvonne’s silver eyes stared at the traumatized teenager as she turned and ran. The whirring blade of the cogwheel saw slowed to a harmless rotation before stopping altogether, its buzz quietening into silence. The shocked half-dwarf watched her go, her companion fleeing into the distance. She remained motionless, attempting to process why she felt guilt. She’d only wanted to fix the seesaw for the children and play an amusing prank on her friend. Plenty of time to climb down the tree before it inevitably yawned and collapsed to the earth like a sleepy giant.

That… hadn’t been the reaction she’d sought-after. Her mind whirled as rapidly as her tool had moments ago. There hadn’t been any chance to reason with Felicity - she’d yelled about outcomes with zero potential of eventuating and bolted. Yvonne knew how to cut down a tree near a house and she knew how strong her blood-sister was - she could shatter the offending wood into toothpicks with her bare hands and pick her teeth clean with it if she’d wanted to. Felicity Rhyolite wouldn’t be dispatched by a rickety old tree. Embarrassing to even entertain the thought.

The half-and-halfling gestured to the nearby onlookers across the way, to carry on with their day-to-day affairs. Show’s over. Nothing to see here.

Guilt melded with frustration. Sighing, Yvonne got to work on repairing the children’s plaything. It wouldn’t take long. It would have been even quicker with some help. What had gotten into her friend, promising these kids their seesaw would be fixed and then dropping everything, abandoning her cause. How could that possibly be the right response to her - perhaps poorly timed - joke?

Felicity was no dwarf, she knew that for certain. A dwarf held fast to their cause, rain, hail or shine. No matter the odds or the ordeal, a dwarf dealt with their issues. Sturdy and reliable as stone, especially with little ones observing their every move. A good example needed to be set. The children would remember this challenging time for the rest of their lives and they’d learn how others resolved it. Regardless of the problem, like an older sister she covered for the half-neanderthal in her time of need.

Shaseth gave Yvonne the extra pair of hands she needed to tear down and reassemble the play equipment. The pivot point still functioned, albeit a tad frosty. The lever and seating needed replacement and that proved simple enough. A half an hour at most and the kids gleefully celebrated the seesaw’s restoration with an almost instantaneous ride, their toothy grins and clawed hands in the air relating the tale of their happiness.

“Look mommy, no hands!” Jesnys exclaimed.

“No brains more like it,” her mother replied dryly.

Any dwarf could have done it.

Her companion didn’t appear to be coming back. Shaseth invited Yvonne back inside for a bite to eat, a rest pause after their labour while they waited for her return. Looking again to the trail Felicity had disappeared down she nodded in agreement, opting not to follow after the moody teen. Nearly an adult she was old enough to be making her own decisions. We each follow our own path.

It would be dark as night before the half-and-halfling quietly departed Shaseth’s hovel in search of the vandal.

The blunt, metal pommel slammed into her gut. The teen cried as she choked a sound out. Holding herself, the girl fell to the floor. Tears dripped down her red cheeks. She opened her eyes to see Ayleth towering over her, holding her sword.

“Felicity,” She spit venom, “You are wrong.”

Felicity held her head, vision groggy as she pushed herself up to her knees. Her legs rubbed against rough, stone floor. The cold air of Coronian autumn was crisp and bitter. The nature surrounding them was dying, just like their relationship.

“No,” Felicity coughed, “You’re wrong. Think of all the people you killed! All the lives you stole and-“

She gasped in fear. The weapon she held was raised in a wrath guard. All the rage in the world was pounded into her as the force caused her to fall onto her hands and faced. Blunt pain burst into her head as her thoughts rattled. This conversation had only turned into an argument. And this argument had turned… into a beating.

Just another brutal lesson.

“Felicity,” Her voice seemed patient, yet everything else inside her obviously was not. It was nagging, tugging, “They got what they deserved.”

“M-maybe- they did deserve that, but-“ She wheezed, holding her chest, which was tightened by anxiety attacks. “-When you delivered the blow, we-were you worse off than them?-“

“-Shut up!” Ayleth kicked her side, causing enough pain to shoot through her like lightning. As the teen huddled into the fetal position, the woman scolded her. “I did what I had to do! Nobody was taking care of these murderers, slavers, robbers! The Rangers weren’t! The Bladesingers weren’t! Somebody had to do something!”

She lowered her weapon, head held high. The leaves falling behind were orange like the bonfire she lit on her twisted morality, “So I did. And I will extract justice onto every criminal in the world until there is only the good guys-“

“-If-“ Felicity managed a single shout before crying in whispers, “-If you killed killers to bring peace… there’s still one killer left.”

The wind was bitter, nipping them in the freezing air. Dead, brown leaves fell from the almost bare trees. Icebreaker bent down to her. Crouching to her level, she lifted her finger and shook it in her face, “Don’t you dare judge me.” Her quiet voice was so cold, one could feel the chill, “I tried using mercy and compassion. Those don’t work. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I will take every measure necessary to save the world.”

~ ~ ~

Her vision suddenly returned. No previous memory of where her feet took her. How did she come here? She had no idea. However, one thing did make sense. The dark.

The sun was setting now. A flame colored, brightly shaded sunset burnt the ground below. It was an isolated, lonely courtyard. The wall's tiny fountains had died long ago, not a drop of liquid in the small spewers. The cobblestone was cracked, coated with dirt and overgrown with twisting weeds. The pillars shooting high up were testimonies of a former glory, lived long ago. One at the left had been halved, the upper half completely cut off. It laid, crumbled, next to the ten feet tall remaining pillar.

Growing within the wall, embedded at the center top of the pillar's formation, was a towering, humongous, lonely tree…

Not a single sound whispered here as more memories consumed her.

~ ~ ~

She was aggressive.

The sound of steel clashing sounded from the forest clearing. It was evening. As dim grey skies floated above, the ringing metal and human grunts and shouts drove all wildlife away. Crickets still croaked as the fifteen year old redhead struggled; shaking in physical weakness.

Felicity was being continually forced back in the ferocious swings. With the blunt side of her sword sweeping the teen's lower leg, the half-elf forced Felicity to fall to her side, dropping her blade.

"Weak!" She shouted critically.

In the uncomfortable dirt and itchy grass, the teen tried to pull herself up. However, her teacher walked around her and raised her foot, pressing it against her back as her blade slightly pressed into the girl's neck. It was not enough to injure, but it was enough to hurt.

"A-Ash-"

"Ayleth!" She shouted in a dominating, rage filled tone.

"Yeah, that…" the girl grunted, visibly under both physical and emotional stress, "Ca-can we take five and-"

"No." Ayleth replied icily, "We will stop when your defense improves.”

Removing the blade and lowering her foot, she took a step back in apathy and waited for the sweating, bruised girl to return to her opening stance. "Get up."

Pushing her shaking body to respond, the young woman stood up, but did not raise her sword again, "Ayleth, please…"

The young woman walked up to her, lowering her sword. With bitterness written on her face, she raised her hand and backhanded her cheek. "Obey, apprentice."

Holding her cheek in pain, the girl struggled to stand, but held herself together. Closing her eyes to push back her tears, she responded timidly, submissively, "Yes, ma'am."

~ ~ ~

Her knees hit the floor. Hands slammed the flat stone as she bent over. Vibrating immensely, her mouth hung open, eyes shut, as she cried. Against the stillness of the lifeless courtyard, the girl let it go. One, long, tormented scream packed with every single wound, hurt, scar in this part of her journey. It was wordless, for no words could be used. The emotion itself threatened to destroy everything within eye shot; even the aged, sturdy tree some feet in front of her. Her head churned red, voice finally giving out. A slow fade ended the cry. From there, she sobbed. Her back heaved as tsunamis of tears flooded the cold, hard ground. She barley took in air between the long, bitter cries. She could hardly support herself on her knees and hands. She fell to her side, every ounce of energy poured into her weeping.

She stayed here, carrying on in her anguish, for hours without stop. Only when the last of her energy depleted did she end her wailing.

A depressed, exhausted hush came over the circular courtyard.

Sliding headgear of Alerian technology over her face from her forehead, Yvonne allowed her vulnerable eyes a scant few seconds adjustment to peering through lenses. Her silvers felt comfortable, at home in the darkness of night but that feeling of security was a trap. She needed to take care of her vision regardless of the hour. Lights burned brighter upon a black backdrop and a stark contrast between white and black could leave a lingering spot in front of her eyes, a blindness that refused to fade for hours at a time.

Nevertheless the Alerian's vision would enable them to track the vandal down through a nocturnal and sleepy Donnalaich. Yvonne made her way through ruined buildings with purpose, along cobble rubble and dirt pathways with singular intent. She tweaked the zoom intensity of her lenses constantly, zooming in on potential clues to scrutinize them in detail from afar.

Only a puddle of water lay still before her. False alarm perhaps, residual rain from yesterday, or an indication the culprit had fled far from here. The hybrid scout turned back the dial on the zoom, grasping a full picture of her surroundings once again.

Moving on around a crippled storehouse the building's wounds came into view. Dangling palings, again missing thatch and a door that no longer closed properly but swung back and forth with the breeze - not an ideal place to store anything. Either the vandal had not caused this or had done so many days ago. No ice to be found. Not even water. A drakari could have easily damaged the door to break in and enter, to rummage through the jars of food.

This building in particular gave Yvonne the impression that more than one person was at fault here. Perhaps a single vandal started the commotion. The desperation and fear of the people did the rest, tearing their city apart in search of food and supplies. Every drakari and fae for themselves.

If her suspicion proved correct then finding the vandal would only resolve a portion of the problem. These people needed to be reined in and governed. Their self-centeredness would be to the detriment of others. Resources needed to be shared. Food needed to be rationed. Races needed to cooperate no matter how different they appeared to be.

She would discover who damaged the storehouse later - who risked the survival of the city by taking what they could carry and exposing the rest to vermin and the weather. These jars would be identifiable. If the thieves hadn't shattered them into pieces and cast the granules into the wind she would find them. The scavengers would pay their debt or face the consequences of a surly half-dwarf. This neglected city, the effects on its citizens and the way Felicity frequently lashed out here had all served to put her in a curmudgeonly mood.

Her throat burned from the endless weeping. Tears fell, yet the energy to do anything else had been relinquished. It was dark now. The sun had set, leaving the faint moon glow over the courtyard. There was no breeze to be felt. It seemed as if nature itself bowed it’s head over the weight this girl carried. In the fetal position, broken and unkempt, the neanderthal hybrid could have rotted in her despair, just another dead pile of dust in these forgotten ruins.

Her stomach rolled in hunger, her scratched throat begged for relief. Yet, in her exhaustion she could of cared less. Her breaths were long and weak. So fatigued, she struggled to even breathe fully. She was drained in every way. Broken down…

~ ~ ~

*Clang!*

Two swords collided, sunlight bathing them in light, glowing across their battlefield. It was within the morning. The sun barely peaked above the sea as they fought atop the cliff. White pebbles and stones tumbled down as Felicity fought a bandit at the edge. The woman grunted, her falchion blade slicing through the air as Felicity stepped back, guarding with her arming sword. She felt the ground slowly destabilizing as they fought. Nervousness grew in her chest as the sound of loosening stones grew faster. She anxiously parried and blocked her opponent’s sword, growling in frustration.

The bandit then made a tricky move. She parried, extending her spare hand to grab Felicity’s throat. The child started to choke. Her sword slipped from her hands, wallowing as it slammed into the loose rocks.

The bandit gritted her teeth, “Living is for the birds, am I right? Join them!”

Felicity’s chest exploded in fear. Death by being pushed off a cliff? It seemed terrible, the long way down. The burglar dropped her weapon, using her other hand to slowly tip her over. The redhead dare not fight the steadily smirking mistress. She could just let go in a second. Her upper body felt nothing but the seaside’s wind nipping at her, begging her to leap into it. Maybe, if the little flame was lucky, she could grow wings like a bird and fly.

Yet, in the horrifically slow process of letting go, the woman was yanked back, dragging Felicity with her. She fell against the bandit, then cried out when she heard the familiar sound of a blade penetrating flesh. Her eyes widened as she looked down, seeing that the sword missed her, barely, but stabbed her opponent in the gut. Liquid red dripped against the white stones of the cliff. They painted the blank sheet of paper crimson, for suffering. The blade was ripped out again, viciously. The body fell, revealing Ayleth in her place. Behind Ayleth, a stream of bodies flowed. She had obviously faced far more opponents than her, and she stabbed Felicity’s agitator like a knife through butter. Atop the cliff, the girl’s hair flowed in the wind, the waves of it hissing in the barren landscape. Holding the bloodied blade, Ayleth looked, well… scared.

For a brief second, Felicity saw genuine panic and concern. She saw emotion, emotional attachment. For a brief moment, Felicity saw Ashla.

Yet, that moment passed in a flash, like straw in a fire.

The woman wiped the blade, smearing scarlet on her stained pants. She put the blade in her sheath, turning. Already, Ayleth’s regular mannerisms returned. Her lowered, dead eyes. That ever present, small frown. The emotionless features, cold blooded attitude. Self righteous, stubborn, unwilling to yield to anything. The mud elf’s dark side, Ayleth, overshadowed Ashla’s side once again.

Desperate, absolutely desperate to see Ashla again. Felicity spoke, “Th-thanks, master-“

She was stopped when, without warning, Ayleth violently turned around. She threw her arm, imposing, authoritative, cruel. Her eyes were wide, ice forming, in slits of pure ruthlessness. Her teeth gritted, body tense. “-If you were not so pathetic and weak, you would never have needed saving!”

Well, that stung. Felicity would have taken a step back, maybe more, yet the cliff overhead still threatened to swallow her in a falling death. The wind howled, causing goosebumps to form on the fifteen year old’s skin. She bit her lip, taking Aytleth’s next onslaught of vicious words.

“I thought I was training you better! To be strong!” She lowered her arms, the worst of her rage gone. She scoffed, spat, and turned around again, “I guess you have not learned everything, despite my best efforts. You must be useless.”

Tears welded up in the redhead’s eyes as Ayleth brought her judgement upon her, damaging her. Each word felt like a stab with a knife. The tense, apathetic tone punctured like snake fangs, trickling venom into the veins.

“You imbecile! You untalented runt! Insignificant!” Her voice was low and imposing. She sighed, shoulders down, “You are nothing but a burden. I have no idea what I ever saw in you…”

She stormed off, walking in heavy strides. Kicking one of the dead bodies aside as she walked, she left Felicity in hopeless shambles.

She was a burden.

She was weak.

She was insignificant.

She was useless.

~ ~ ~

… How long did she lay here?

In the fetal position, she drifted in and out of uncomfortable sleep. Energy slowly filled again, tiny drop by tiny drop. Her appendages were numb, weak. She stared blankly at a deformed, eroded pillar across from her. Her hair was in her face, her eyes drooped in a lifeless, tired expression.

She continued to rest, well into nighttime. The Dheathian night was cooler. In fact, the girl shivered. Yet, she did not move. She felt unable to. She lay her head upon the hard, frigid stone floor.

She stayed like this for hours. Her energy slowly dripped back.

The chilly nighttime winds rustled the leaves of the great, sage tree. One three tipped leaf fell right in front of her. Dazed and heartbroken, the now numbed girl blinked. Despite appearing uninterested. The girl pulled her drowsy, heavy head in the direction of the tree. Then – she felt it.

That feeling. Again! In yet another happenstance, she felt this odd… Prickling? Energy? Energy…

Confused, curious, she pulled herself to her hands. Her arms straight, holding her top half up, she watched the tree. Well, nothing seemed that unusual about it. – It was here, however, that she realized something. Every single thing she felt was associated with one, common thing. The high quality sectors of Dheathian were cooled with magic. The ice on the roof also was magic. Now, a tidbit of lore flew through her head. The Ancients were known to grow their trees into remarkable sizes, thanks to some form of magic. For no way could a tree naturally grow that humongous.

Her mouth gaped, “No way…”

The magical affinities of her neanderthal kin circled around her head. It all made so much sense! Since she and Nevin found medications to relieve the negative side affects of her Berserk Rage, her own magical affinity did not need to obsess over keeping her dark power functional, keeping her alive. It was within that moment that Felicity gasped, pushing herself to her knees. Was it possible?

Her heart still ached deeply, her body still exasperated. Thus, her movements were slowed. She dragged herself towards the trunk of the ginormous tree, never completely standing once. As she crawled closer, the connection felt stronger, better. Now, sitting on her knees, her face was so near to the tree. She only had to extend her hand and touch the tree. Her old optimism started to surprisingly surface as she took a deep breath, then let it out Soothing her anxious chest with these deep, calm, breaths, she maintained focus.

Concentrate, you can do this!

The half breed closed her eyes, reaching out. Her extended hand touched the aged, rough outer layer. The sound of pieces of brown, gruff crust falling could be heard as she pressed her hand against the base of the tree.

Ruined ramparts had almost entirely crumbled over, a structure that couldn’t keep a gentle breeze out, good for identifying where the city limits were and little else. A woebegone watchtower still stood vigilant, but the fortification no longer had a means of entry - the stone stairs lying among the rubble. A lone drakari guard on watch had improvised a vine-ladder to climb up to his post.

Yvonne had searched Donnalaich and its ruined buildings for hours, and with very little to go on the chance of finding a new clue seemed more and more hopeless. Finding the watchtower stirred a feeling the time had come to turn back. Did she even know what to look for anymore? A fae among fae, in a city of fae - one that could manipulate ice. That narrowed it down but not nearly enough. The age old adage of searching for a needle in a haystack came to mind and it only served to annoy her.

The half-and-halfling’s hope had been to strike it lucky, explore the city and stumble on something improper happening. The thought of trying to find a hunter to help her came far too late. What a fool’s errand. Vandals keep their activities on tha down low. They don’t make a big show out of it, foolish girl. Ye didn’t even think this through did ye? This could take all night by yerself.

The Alerian cave-dweller knew how to scout out the darkness, grasp the lay of the land, get her bearings on a locale and she’d done that. Tracking down a single individual among thousands wasn’t a skill in her repertoire. The fact most decent folk now slept was a saving grace, however it seemed she had the wrong time or place. She’d wanted to catch him in the act! At least locate more vandalism as that would be another lead. Not this whole lot of nothing.

An empty marketplace surrounded the seeker, shuttered stalls and cloth coverings tied down for the night. The merchants had all gone home to their families. With every shop closed nothing appeared out of place. This doesn’t make sense. If someone wanted ta stick a wrench in tha works of this city tha market would be a fine place ta start. Why leave it be? If tha people still have a place ta exchange their goods and services, then any damage done will eventually be repaired. No method ta tha madness.

Frustrated, Yvonne massaged the stress from her temples, closing her weary eyes a moment and looking downcast. She heaved a sigh. Felicity, where did ye run off ta? I need yer help… When she opened her elven eyes again her hazy focus had settled on the dirt nearby. Drifting back from her thoughts her focus cleared and an unusual shape in the dirt caught her attention.

Yvonne knelt and faintly touched the markings in the earth with only her fingertips. Not tracks, no - this was-- what? Why would a fae lie down face first in the dust like this? She could make out where fingers had scratched the dirt, hand prints. Those lower marks looked like knee indentations. Their whole body had flopped here with a whomp, blowing dust aside in every direction. A magnificent spot for a nap, middle of tha bloody marketplace.

Silver eyes frantically scanned around the bodily indent for a trail of some sort, her vigor and dynamism renewed by the latest finding. This had to be what she’d been looking for. Yes, yes! Those marks could have been from the patter of fae feet, bare foot if she wasn’t mistaken. Yvonne took off along beside the trail so as not to disturb the clues, hurrying to meet their maker. Finally, finally she had something to go on. She had a lead! Not much but something and she took it, chased it and followed it through like nothing else was ever more important than this trail, saw it through for as long as she could.

The dusty footsteps abruptly ended with the grass.

Yvonne’s fists tightened until her knuckles went white. She wanted to scream. She didn’t. She shook with emotion instead. Silently, silently quaked with frustration. This couldn’t be the end of the road. It couldn’t. No, she wouldn’t let it. There had to be more. There had to be something to follow.

Like a delirious, wild bush turkey she clawed and scratched at the grass, looking for something, anything! The black-skinned scout paused, reverted to her goggles. She adjusted the right lens, focusing in on tiny, delicate droplets resting on the blades of grass. Water - in this miserable heat - yet to evaporate. Moisture on her fingertips. Again she bolted off like a hound dog, running at full pelt as quickly as her little legs could go.

She followed the water, pursued the hidden path through the grass and into the outskirts of the ancient city. The trail went cold - literally and figuratively. The seeker entered into a thick, ghastly fog. A fog that sucked the warmth of the world away, sending chills down her spine. She slowed her pace, unable to see her way forward safely any longer. The fog blinded even her eyes, clouding any edges and shapes with its ethereal atmosphere.

At the very edge of her vision, much closer than normal, another ruin lay concealed in the grey murk. The strangest thing about the ruin though - it had snowed, around and within, white as winter. Snow, in the middle of the jungle. Crisp, fresh and cold as ice. The half-breed tenuously approached the snowy shelter, hesitating. She’d come a long way to finally seize this moment, and now that it was here, she didn’t know that she should barge in. Whoever did this had to be a powerful sorcerer, right?

Magic, the bane of her existence. How could she approach it? This was everything she feared, right in front of her panicky eyes. Who knew what curses or hexes this individual could place upon her, with a whim, at a moment’s notice. Goosebumps exploded over her skin like a rash, whether from the chill of fog or the dread of her nightmares she could not say. Where she had come from, this act of madness - walking toward a lair of black magic - was against the law. Consorting with witches and wizards would see her gravely punished.

Dare I take a peek inside? What harm could a peep do? First sign of demonic ritual I will run away like there be no tomorrow, but I must… I need… ta see for myself. I came all this way. All those people, those refugees, those street urchins - they be counting on me. I can’t turn back yet. I won’t turn back.

Felicity, I feel scared.

Uneasy footsteps trod over the snow with gentle crunches. She took her sweet time, careful, cautious of catching a stray spell-bolt in the guts at any moment. There was no room for mistakes now. No margin for error. The crossbreed huddled outside the archway entrance, taking a deep breath, steeling herself. She dared her peek inside. The black strands of her hair wavered in the breeze, metallic silver eyes taking a look.

Yvonne immediately felt sorry for him. The poor thing had bags under his blackened eyes, his eyelids heavy with fatigue. Those swiveling ears drooped, sagged until their lowest point. He rocked gently back and forth, trembling, knees to his chest. Filthy with dirt and gods-knew-what and that pong was a bit on the nose too, but… regardless, he seemed so tattered and worn out, at the end of his rope. Surely he hadn’t slept in a week or more, suffering a severe case of insomnia.

Her motherly instincts urged her to take the fae boy in her arms and cradle him, soothe his worries with her cooing reassurances and rock him quietly to sleep. He needed to rest his weary head. The concerned mother figure crept out of hiding and stepped into the doorway, mustering her courage to meet the fae. She would offer her help, softly and without threat and see how he reacted. If he turned hostile she could back away safely, perhaps find Felicity and try again later.

“Hey, ye be okay Mister? Can I come in and sit with ye?” Yvonne called out.

Many, many explosions! Blinding energy threatened to throw her off her feet. Wave after wave of aged rings, like the rings of old trees, obliterated the atmosphere in her senses. A sense of terror, awe, excitement wrecked her entire being as she opened her eyes.

There was a series of black and white lines marking the outline of the tree. Within it, enormous veins shot through the plant, the trunk and branches. White, distorted, bold energy swarmed within like a swarm of furious yellow jackets. It was so powerful, so mighty. Yet, the energy running ramped was positive, life giving. Strength flowed like a raging river, bolstering the tree in every way imaginable. It exceeded the natural. It influenced the tree, enhanced it. This energy allowed this century old tree to stay sturdy and healthy. It grew beyond natural proportions as the veins steadily swelled within those black lines. It was overwhelming, excruciating, it-

-Felicity shut her eyes. She had to get out!

The very will to stop must of done it. She flew back, the connection to the tree shattered as she fell against material, night chilled cobblestone. Her eyes were wide, body vibrating in a mixture of fright and wonder. There was so much sweat on her, it looked as if she just took a dip in a lake. Yet, for her body’s trembling, only one thought crossed her mind. What just happened?

She took heavy, yet steady, breaths. Watching the exotic stars, she pondered. It was strange, the constellations and sky patterns were slightly different here compared to the rest of Althanas. Was it the differences in land location? It was crazy how even the sky changed. Everything… changed.

She sat up, eyes still widened in awe and terror. She looked down, raising a single hand to look at her palm. Watching it, the adrenaline rushes of the tree replayed in her mind. With these thoughts, her neanderthal bloodline also poked at her thoughts. She always knew she had a magical affinity locked somewhere inside. Now that her body was adjusting better to her Berserk Rage, it made sense that her powers were expanding. She was improving.

She clenched her fist, a sense of optimism returning to her weary heart.

She opened her mouth, her voice hoarse and spent. Yet, there was confidence in her tone, “I may have been weak before…”

Her fist shook as she continued to tighten it, “But I’m stronger now.”

It was true. She was physically so much stronger. Raw strength, healthier bones, an unbreakable body. Compared to the much thinner, softer, more fragile girl Ayleth kicked around, Felicity was now a giant. Even now, however, her intrusive thoughts threatened to tear her down.

“She was right! You'll never be strong enough!”

“No more! No more attempts to get close to people. They’ll only hurt you more!"

“Ayleth hurt you, why won’t Yvonne do the same? Yvonne believes in an eye for an eye just like her!”

Felicity bit her lip, frustration boiling in her chest. She felt so cold! Ever sense she left Ayleth’s side, she struggled to connect to anyone else again. She felt too numb, too scared to forge bonds with anyone in the Toivonen family; regardless of how much time she spent with them. Nevin was the only who breached her newly built walls thus far. Oh, how he aided her! Felicity direly needed him, her older brother. How much of a blessing he was! Yet, even this fellow alchemist, this healer, was unable to ease these deep wounds.

So what of Yvonne? What was her place in all of this? No doubt about it, Felicity adored her, yet… the small, stout drow reminded her so much of Ayleth. She frightened her. She still shook, in the center of the dome courtyard, as she thought this through. Now, however, her mind was clearer. Thanks to her newfound sensitivity to magic, she felt stronger. Just like the bizarrely placed stars in the sky, things changed. Just because an older sister figure hurt her once, would another do it again? This was ridiculous! Yvonne did nothing but help Felicity through and through, even when the aid was undeserved. How could Felicity doubt her now? When so many other people fled upon seeing her as a wretch, Yvonne stayed. Yvonne faced her greatest fears for her.

Now, it was time for Felicity to return the favor.

She had to risk being pained again.

Boldly, Felicity put one foot on the ground. She pushed herself, attempting to rise to her feet. The first time, she fell. Her body was still nerve wrecked. Felicity growled and tried again. Again… Again! Somehow, she made it to where she stood. She struggled for balance, but refused to yield. She would not allow fear to win. She was better than that. Maintaining balance, she turned towards to exit of the courtyard. She shakily took one step, two steps…

She treaded into the city’s nighttime darkness. She had to find Yvonne, confront her… then confront that vandal.

Quote:

---

Hours earlier.

---

It was odd, so odd, how dreamlike reality started to become without any sleep.

Song drifted through the air. A woman’s husky voice. Lullabies. Song that became discordant, abstract and jumbled, if he focused too hard on it. The other fae, the strange and almost human fae of Dheathain, didn’t hear it. Fenn had asked them. Written out questions in shaking hand. Nothing. It was all him. A mere figment of his imagination. A phantom of his mind, grasping at him with a searing grip.

He was here because…

Here because…

Something about wanted to learn more about others like him. Something about heritage. Regent Banrion’s words were lost in his mind.

The boy wandered through the foreign marketplace, stumbling over himself. Normally, he would be flitting from stall to stall, falling over himself trying to see every exotic ware there was. Pockets around him would be mysterious lightened of their trinkets. Fruit would vanish from their impressive pyramid piles. Beautiful Dheathanian creatures would be admired. Maybe someone would catch him napping atop their colorful cloth canopy and shoo him away. Maybe he’d be scolded for stealing a sip of someone’s drink. Right now though, it was an effort to put one foot in front of the other.

There was a burning in the blackened scars ringing his wrists and ankles, another phantom presence he couldn’t explain. He wanted the burning to stop. His hands itched at the dark rings, drawing up thin lines of blood and no relief. The stone under his feet was cracked from the sheer cold radiating off of him. Fenn stared at the cracks, trying to make sense of the spiderwebbed pattern beneath him. Focusing his eyes on it — on anything — was a monumental strain that ached hollow within his skull.

He was faintly aware that the others in the marketplace were staring. It was hard to make himself care about what they thought.

No, he hadn’t slept in a while, and he was starting to have trouble remembering why that was.

It faintly registered to him that he needed sleep. It was necessary for the function of a physical body, even one as strange as that of the fae. Fenn rubbed his eyes as he staggered deep into a quiet alley, trying to make something of his bleary, color-streaked vision the same way he tried to make something of his situation; with little success. Once, he’d caught wind of a rumor that there was a man who had died from going without sleep for months and months on end. How long had he been awake?

Once more, the boy tripped over his own feet; first he fell to his knees, then to his hands, then collapsed with the whole of his body against spongy earth. This time he did not get up. With a sigh of defeat, he let the darkness of slumber carry him off.

~ § ~ § ~ § ~

Dark things crept from the crevice of light.

There was no Banrion to save him, not in these dreams. She had said something- had said something about him pushing her out, away from his head, when she last struggled to make contact with him. He hadn’t meant to do that. He still didn’t mean to do it, but it seemed to be happening anyway. She had told him about a— the scars— what had happened to his past self— he didn’t want— and—

They were skittering things, flying down on wings of sharp edges and fear.

A flood of sensations filled him with each one that brushed by. Mostly, it was a burning that spread across his wrists, ankles. It was hands around his neck. It was the scent of blood and iron. It was red, and black cracks across his vision.

He couldn’t scream.

~ § ~ § ~ § ~

Quote:

---

Present moment.

---

Fenn broke back into the waking world with the loudest squeak he’d ever heard out of himself.

The lingering memory of the dream cut into his chest like an iron dagger. He clasped his hands over his heart, feeling it twitch and spasm from inside his ribs. The boy rocked in place, scrabbling desperately to orient himself in the waking world. He couldn’t sleep again, he couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t… With each beat of outrage, the air around him crackled with cold, the awful humidity breaking out in a blight of spontaneous snow. White, white, white. Fenn started into it. The bright ruins around were deeply frozen and barely thawing — and they were in a recent, extreme state of disrepair. Fog wafted off of them in the direct sunlight. The little fae blinked and stared at the broken rock and fallen walls. This wasn’t where he had last passed out. This wasn’t the marketplace. That much, he could discern.

He… must have done this. Whatever “this” was. Had he been wandering as he slumbered? Again?

In the glossy ice, he caught his reflection. It wavered. Squinting blearily at it, Fenn tried making sense of it. His wings, his antennae, they were gone — the skin around his wrists was raw grey flesh and dripping black. A pang of fear sent a new wave of snow billowing out from the fae as he yanked his gaze away and frantically felt his back and his head for his insectoid limbs. No they were- they were still there, falling and rising with his breath. There was no blood. He glanced back to the puddle again, hands clenched. The reflection was normal. The other him, the him with missing parts and fresh injuries, had flickered away.

He didn’t know that past-him, but he absolutely knew that he would rather not be him.

Want Daugi, he thought blearily, rubbing at his eyes. Despite having slept, he was exhausted. Absolutely exhausted. The only thing about him that still seemed to be functional was the cadence of his magic; it sang in the air around him, sang of the north and the snow he missed. It raged against the heat and the cage of his frail form.

Uneasy footsteps caused him to pan his gaze up from the walls.

It was a woman, he reckoned through his fading sight. One short and dark of complexion. For a moment, he thought that perhaps she was another hallucination, but frowned as she didn’t fuzz away with the next few blinks of his eyes.

She called out to him. It took him a moment to register what she was saying.

Fenn felt his consciousness flicker.

Oh. Oh no.

”Get back,” he said in a woozy flutter of his hands. He was so light-headed, the simple lift of his arms left him dizzy. Colors swam in front of his eyes again. Desperately, Fenn hoped he was understood. ”Leave me. Hurts.”

Turgid winds circled around him as he felt himself begin to pass out again. He felt himself lift just slightly off the ground from the sheer force of them. No! The fae clenched his hands, feeling the bite of his nails make black-beading moon-sliver cuts in his palms, but it wasn’t enough. Whatever mindless unconscious self would surface in his absence, he did not know. White became not only a quality of the walls about, but now the very air itself as he slipped away.

Yvonne trepidatiously inched nearer, closer, so carefully approaching the exhausted fae child. She’d verbalized her intentions - that she was entering his hiding place with concern for his well being - but he’d not answered. It seemed her words only stirred him from a waking slumber. He battled to lift his heavy eyelids let alone respond to her call. My word, she felt for the poor dear.

Silver eyes studied him intently, expecting the worst - awaiting the moment when he reacted with an icicle lance of deadly ice magic. The blackened half-dwarf froze mid-step when he finally moved, making a sort of 'shooing' gesture at her? Oh boy, her heartbeat pounded in her breast, her pulse racing. That be a shoo or a threatening sorcerous gesture? Dare I flip a coin with me own life ta find out? Her feet answered her question by pacing backwards, high heels crunching back into snow.

The fae vandal gestured again, another sign different to the first. Yvonne didn’t comprehend it and she didn’t have time to mull it over. A gusting breeze took her unawares, nearly knocking the half-and-halfling off balance, her arms swinging wildly to stay upright. A whirlwind began to circulate around the ruined chamber, lifting the fae sorcerer off the ground in the calm of the storm, his fists clenched with wintry desperation. The blustering air currents turned bitter and chilly, the temperature rapidly plummeting. Was Yvonne still thinking of giving the kid a cuddle?

Nope! Getting out of here!

She dived toward the doorway with all the leg strength she could muster, the winds threatening to sweep her up, landing in the snow with a wet thump. Her outstretched hand grabbed hold of the entryway and she pulled and scrambled outside as quickly as she could. Slumping her back to the outer wall - the doorway beside her shoulder - a turbulent blast of frost blew through the archway and chilled her to the bone. She curled up tightly into the fetal position and hugged herself, trying to stay warm - trying to stay alive.

“That be n-no way ta greet a stranger!” she shouted, her voice cracking, teeth chattering. “Ye settle d-down, ye hear me!? Don’t make m-me mad. I only want ta help ye!”

Yvonne’s body temperature had dropped so much she couldn’t stop shivering, covered in snow flakes and not getting any warmer in spite of her efforts. She took off her backpack and untied the blanket roll attached to it, unfurling it and swiftly wrapping herself up in it like a cocooned bug. There she continued to wait out the magical blizzard happening inside, too cold and too scared to move. She couldn’t stop trembling.

Nightfall was clear and cloudless. As the millions of gems in the sky sparkled boldly against the harsh dark, the city was silent. Not many people were up at this hour, leaving Felicity to walk alone amongst the grey cobblestones and aged buildings. The dilapidated ruins were about the same, street to street, as the girl steadily grew calmer and clearer again, She still hugged herself, nerves wracked and ready to jump at the slightest sound. Yet, only her footsteps echoes across the tall, old town. This skeleton of a civilization long passed was archaic, solemn. Yet, the questions of what happened to this place barely struck her in the cold, midnight air. She was only concerned with finding Yvonne again. With no recollection of how she got from the wreckage of the vandal’s victimized street to that courtyard, she was heading back towards the one landmark she clearly remembered – their old campsite. Maybe, just maybe, Yvonne decided to go there. Then again, she could be at their drakari friend’s house. Felicity, however, had no idea where that location fell.

The sounds of night’s jungle wildlife drew faintly louder as she drew towards to edge of town. Even at nighttime, Dheathian was humid. After the deathly cold of the city’s limits, she immediately grew to remember her old loathing of this blasted humidity again. As the girl stepped over fallen vines and twisting roots, the sound of rich leaves flattening against her boots sounded. Her hand nervously fell over her sword, she wondered up a hillside towards an old courtyard. Strange, she thought the city’s limits were behind her. Nonetheless, the lone child made a dash through the tall grasses and jungle ferns of the open courtyard. Now lost in a forest of shooting grass, she grew annoyed at the humidity and plants here. – Then, she suddenly realized something odd…

… she had been hit with a fog.

The clear sky was unseen beneath the thick smog of grey. She was suddenly caught in what seemed to be a storm of fog. Her heartbeat, which had just steadied a short bit ago, ramped up again. She gasped and clutched her heart, her chest aching. She had to stand still for a moment, taking deep breaths as she tried to calm down again. Yvonne needed her. This was no time to feel anxious, no matter how lost she was.

Thus, she soldiered on, into the thickest of the fog.

She could hardly see her hand in front of her face. The shadows of the gruff plants were unseen. Yet, she could fell the plants poking her and causing her skin to itch and tickle upon touch. She pushed on, careful not to trip over any roots. Her footsteps were loud, as she pulled down grass and crushed fern bushes on her way through. Yet, after what felt like forever, she made it out! She was surprised when the sound of her boots against muffled plants were replaced with a hard stomp against stone. She grinned, excited to have reached the other side. The fog seemed to reside, at least a little. It was enough to see the silhouette of a monstrous mansion in front of her. She took a step back, within the edge of the courtyard. “Woah…”

Wait, did she hear something?

“Ye settle d-down, ye hear me!?”

That voice! She knew that voice!

“I only want ta help ye!”

Yvonne!

The fool! What was she doing out here by herself? Unlike Felicity, she was at least half sane! Felicity bolted through the half destroyed gatehouse, dashing towards the noise. Panting, the redhead gritted her teeth as she shouted, “Yvonne! I’m coming!”

Racing through tumbled statues within the front pathway, she felt the most peculiar thing – chill. The air was blistering cold! Way better than that darn humidity, yet Felicity's panic grew larger. She could feel the faint traces of magic within the air. Yvonne was terrified of magic like this! Dang it, Yvonne, you’re supposed to be the cool headed one here!

The air even smelled like the freezing of winter. The mixture of crispness and dull dust swirled in her nostrils as she noticed flashes of blue within the building ahead. Ice!

I C E!

Her eyes were completely frosted over, like chips of white ice. Her face was hardened in spite, lips curled in a hateful scowl. Ice floated around her as death knocked on her next victim’s door.

The girl skidded to a hasty halt, a cry escaping her. There was ice beneath her very feet, causing her to comically fall onto her bottom. The pain was nothing, yet the wounded child lifted her hand, covering her face. It seemed as if a blizzard was taking place in there. Against the darkness of the night, the cloudiness of the fog, the ice and snow literally glowed blue in violent splendor.

“Ayleth!” Felicity cried aloud, “No!”

Tears filled her green eyes. She whimpered, “Ayleth…”

Then, she saw something else.

Behind one of the crumbled statues, so deteriorated it was unrecognizable, stood a short, stout being. She had dark skin, clothes stylish yet sophisticated for travel, and wild hair. Pointed elvish ears oddly matched well with dwarvern height.

Felicity lowered her hand as the storm howled within the building. Just at the edge of the chaos, they both had wandered into the storm wall of the hurricane.

“… Yvonne.”

A flash of white light flew from the doorway. Felicity bolted up. Her voice was curdled in a scream that even against the howling winds, was deafening.

“YVONNE!"

Several humongous shards of ice flew towards the statue.

Felicity raced.

The sharp ice slammed into the statue, causing it to shatter.

Felicity scooped the fellow half-breed into her arms.

Rubble flew everywhere.

Yet, Felicity ducked behind another statue, Yvonne with her.

Panting, sweating despite the plummeting temperatures, Felicity shook as she placed Yvonne down. Grey eyes met peridot, both wide in terror, as she met for the first time since her outbreak over that tree.

The storm within the mansion was but a distant land. Right now, Felicity only saw her. She whispered, tears welding up in her eyes, “Y-Yvonne…”

[[[OOC: So it's been over a year since this was touched and the other two players aren't active anymore, sadly. I'm just going to submit this for rewards.]]]

Fae Conundrum.
Reward Judgment

Rewards:

Yvonne receives:
1600 EXP
200 Gold

Flamebird receives:
2080 EXP
200 Gold

Fenn Wenn receives:
160 EXP
15 Gold

"You are an educated man. You know there are no such things as demons." Bast smiled a terrible smile. "There is only my kind." Bast leaned closer still, Chronicler smelled flowers on his breath. "You are not wise enough to fear me as I should be feared. You do not know the first note of the music that moves me.

Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

All rewards have been added.