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@rose-colored-fancy

I was thinking, it might be fun if we just have all the villains in there instead of a shapeshifter! Then after they’re freed we can have a bit of interaction, just for the chaos of it all XD

OOOHHH BETTER PLAN! XD Thankkk you for being a voice of… reason? in this madness? XD AND ALSO THANK YOU THIS MAKES MY LIFE SO MUCH EASIER TO ENACT MY… *AHEM* EVIL PLAN *laughs maniacally*

Oh gosh, Liorah is uncontrollable XD When presented with the choice of “letting an enemy die or helping them” she chooses “kill them yourself because it’s more efficient.”

I’m genuinely shocked by how Liorah is just a like… immature 5-year-old differently traumatized carbon copy of Evie… XD

Also I’ll write Niarok tomorrow but I need to sleep so we’re going to have Yila trauma. Lots and lots of Yila trauma…

…

ALLLLSOOOO just a… slight warning. Um. Yila may or may not go wake up the dragon. So. um. Sorry for any excessive blood loss that occurs as a result of this…

Yila

Her entire body was shaking. Trembling. She could still see that image in her mind.

There was a time that she actually like heights. Once. Long ago.

But then it happened.

She shook her head and watched Niarok as he stared down at the dragon.

How she wanted out of this. Out of all of this.

If Niarok didn’t exist she would have committed suicide countless ages ago.

The numbing guilt gnawed at her mind, threatened to pull her under to fraternize with the panic and fear and deep pain that no one could cure.

But on the outside she just glared at the most recent addition to their party: Daire.

He was an obnoxious, loud, extremely unsympathetic version of Lorcan. Who he was… currently worshiping at the moment.

This is far too weird.

Yila huffed, sent Lorcan a sympathetic wince, and stepped away from Lorcan and Evie.

Evie. The girl who she’d clearly underestimated.

The girl who was now giving her a faint smile. A faint softening that hinted at peace, at perhaps a friendship.

But Yila couldn’t afford friends. She didn’t let the steel down.

Evie looked away.

Yila’s heart ripped in two and she sunk further beneath the surface of her pain.

She shook herself free of the cobwebby bonds holding her and stepped forward to the cliff. Liorah and Aydin were having an altercation as usual, and Niarok was looking…

Scared. Nervous. Cornered.

It was a sober reminder that one, her brother was human; and two, something very very very bad was in the making.

“What is it?” she murmured.

Niarok looked at her, his deep blue eyes calm beneath the surface of panic.

As usual.

It was so backwards, and if he hadn’t looked so serious, it would have annoyed her.

Why was it that everyone in the world could have relatable feelings that they hid beneath a surface of calm and then there was just… Niarok?

Yila looked on expectantly. “What?”

Niarok sighed. “Do you trust me?” he whispered.

“Yes, of course,” she said.

Faster than she could respond, he caught her wrist in an iron grip.

“Oh no,” she shut her eyes, trying to quell the rage. “It isn’t.”

Niarok nodded and tilted his head toward where the massive dragon slept.

Yila looked.

Her heart tore and she was eternally grateful that she’d let Niarok detain her. Right before she slipped beneath the surface.

There. There on the ground, sitting next to five or six other people, was one of the three people she’d vowed she would kill the moment she was given the chance.

She’d already killed the first.

Here was her chance for the second.

His hair was bright red. Wild. Like it wanted to escape from his head and blaze away.

He hunched in a position that spoke of unbelievable power.

Power he had used countless times to beat her and hurt her and almost kill her.

Power he’d used to drive a spear into her heart and force her vow to the Shadows.

He was the one.

The one who’d made her what she was.

He had ruined her.

Her vision narrowed to a single point around his eyes. The eyes that opened and stared back at her.

They were bright green.

The color of her father’s eyes.

Panic and rage and hot, relentless fury exploded in her chest and she fought against the restraints that held her back.

She screamed, she writhed. She cried. She sobbed.

She could see the blood pouring from a thousand cuts across her arms, across her face and her back.

She could feel the wrath, the fury of his gaze. Green fire.

That’s what they’d called him.

Emerald Fury.

There was a reason. Yila’s scars screamed, they howled, they raged for justice. Burning, writhing pain seared down her back, across her arms, all across her body.

She could hear her screams but they seemed to come from another person.

She heard a word that sounded familiar from a voice that sounded even more familiar.

But she could not concentrate.

She yelled.

She cried.

And then her vision was torn away and instead of looking into green eyes she stared into blue ones. Familiar blue ones.

“Niarok,” she whispered.

Her brother pulled her into an embrace and hid her face so she couldn’t see Emersen.

“It’s him,” she hissed.

“I know,” Niarok replied.

“I can’t do this.”

“I know.”

Yila’s head swirled with panic and rage.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Niarok pulled away and stared straight into her eyes.

“That will wake the dragon.”

“So?”

“So we’ll all die.”

Yila’s heart pounded. She needed revenge. She needed it like she desperately needed air. Right now.

Cursed asthma. She couldn’t breathe.

She stared at her brother helplessly, and he handed her a tiny pinch of herbs which she swallowed greedily.

Slowly her chest loosened and she could breathe again. Mostly.

The rage was a tighter cord than her malady would ever be.

“I have to kill him, Niarok. I have to.”

Niarok bowed his head under the weight of the responsibility he’d shouldered for himself. “I can’t let you,” he whispered.

Yila looked at the ceiling, fresh tears falling. Helpless. Alone and helpless. That’s how she felt.

Niarok stared at her, his eyes pleading, pleading, begging her not to do it.

She sighed. And she nodded.

And then some power she’d never felt before, something like anger taken a life of it’s own, grasped her arm.

Suddenly she had her knife in hand.

It had flown before she could stop it.

“NO!” someone screamed.

Emersen yelled in pain.

Then the dragon moved.

Yila fell beneath the surface of another flashback. The last thing she remembered was Niarok nocking an arrow and staring at her with heartbroken eyes.

 

 

I… I don’t even know what just happened.

I’m really sorry for that, y’all… Um…

Yila is turning into a monster and it’s like… absolutely horrifying…