Fae Conundrum

[Flamebird]

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?