Fae Conundrum

[Yvonne]

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.