scarletfury
It fit like a glove.
And burned like hell.
This was not the role she'd ever wanted to play.
Never the shoes she'd wanted to wear.
Instead, now, she stood, ramrod straight, head held high, throat tight, eyes dry. This was the way a queen stood before her people.
The way she had to be strong, when there was a knife at her back. When she couldn't trust her court. When her King was out to kill her.
Yes.
This was not the way a crown was supposed to feel, but perhaps, in time, she'd grow used to it.
After all, it wasn't the first time.
"Aww, just look at them! So cute--bantering back and forth. It's almost like they're--"
"Friends," Helena cut in, her voice as sharp as her narrowed eyes. "Don't even try, Donovan."
"Try? Me? Whatever did you think I was going to say?"
"Something stupid--that might get you killed or worse--assigned to my squadron. I have better things to worry about than your sorry scruff-for-brains."
"Ah. I'm wounded!" Donovon staggered backwards, his theatrical declaration punctuated by the expected hand over his heart and comical expression.
Helena rolled her eyes. "I'm warning you..." she mumbled. "Grennar--keep him out of trouble, alright?"
Her 2IC looked from the smart-mouthed Donovan and then back at her. "I'd rather be discharged, Captain."
Helena groaned. She smacked her forehead with one gloved hand, then crooked a finger towards the still languishing Donovon. "Oi--shut up and come here." She reached out, snagging him by the sleeve the moment he was within reach.
"H-heyyyy," Donovan winked. "You don't have to get rough. If you like it that way-"
"If you like your head, sitting on top of your shoulders, you will take care to remember that Yuna and Carman are half-fae and therefore, soulbonded in the eyes of their people, a detail that our society is too stupid to notice. He's within his rights if he wishes to gut you for so much as breathing in her direction and she's liable to scrape the flesh from your skull, if you annoy him. They're fae. We don't mess with them."
"Look what you've done," Mirage hissed. "After everything I've given you--that's what you have to say? This is what you do?"
"Leave them," Irina wrinkled her nose. "It's not worth it, Re."
"Like hell, it's not worth it! I slaved for this degree," Mirage cracked her knuckles. "Blood, sweat and tears poured into a thankless journey to be certified for something I can do in my sleep--because I'm IMMORTAL!"
"Re..."
"There is nothing on the face of this earth that is forcing me to accept this kind of treatment from creatures beneath me."
"Hey--humans are just--well," Irina faltered when that damning gaze fixed on her. She swallowed hard.
"I'm done. That's it. This is it. I've done more than my fair share. I've sacrificed everything I had to offer," Mirage began to glow, a faint, silvery hue. "It's on your shoulders now. All of you. Live the live you wish for and may it be exactly as wretched as you desire!"
"Quartz? You mean, a piece of rock?" Jodie rubbed the back of her head, expression mirroring the absolute confusion she felt at her father's question. "What's that got to do with anything?"
"You can manipulate it, can't you?" He demanded, his voice harsh. "Hurry!"
"I-I don't know. I've never tried."
"Then try!"
"But--but it doesn't work like that-!"
"Try!"
"Dad, I can't--if it doesn't work-!"
"If you don't control it, then it controls us and we're all going to die!" He snarled. "Hurry! If you even have a care for lives apart from your own!"
It was a cruel blow, even for him, but Jodie was past listening at that point. She was only staring at his face and realizing that the sliver of humanity she'd seen there, only hours ago--had vanished altogether.
Her head bowed, hands clenched, she turned away from him. His angry words washed over her, but her eyes had already begun to change color, the shift of her gift taking form within her.
Quartz. Right. She could manipulate that.
At a price, sure, but she'd do it.
Not for him.
And certainly not for the rest of the hostages, but--she did want to live.
There was so much more she planned to do with her life.
Candy. She's sweet like sticky, salty caramels. Wrapped up in fancy paper, costing twice as much as regular milk caramels. Sticky--because it's dangerous to even look at her. If I stare too long, she'll notice.
If she doesn't notice, I think I'll die.
Salted--because what else would make these wounds hurt so beautifully? Rubbed into every raw crevice, pressed into the gaping hole, even as bloody rivers carve their way down my chest.
Wrapped in fancy paper, because who--really?--would wear such things in this day and age? She's no princess--or nun. Yet she shrouds herself in layers of elegant fabrics. Yards upon yards of handcrafted wonders, stamped with shimmering gold--or painted? I don't know which.
Does it matter?
Probably not. I will die, after all.
Mortals aren't meant to live on this plane--not with--her.
She is no princess, for she is nothing but a goddess.
"Dating?" Janae sputtered. "That's not--that's--I don't have to answer that."
Her mother gave her a look. "Is that what we're saying these days?"
"He's my familiar! I can't help it that I inherited a humanoid out of everyone else in that stupid class."
"Oh, so now it's stupid? Careful, you might hurt its feelings."
"Arghhh!" Janae threw her hands up in the air, storming out of the halfway house, her dark, glowering familiar floating after her.
The tension in the room lifted by several degrees, as the dark, pressing aura of the shadow elemental faded in time to each step she moved further away from the house.
Her mother rubbed her arms, absently, flinching at something unseen. "Don't give me that," she muttered, half-aloud. "It's your fault. You're the one that said you couldn't be corporeal for longer than two decades. I told you it would cause problems."
She listened for a moment and scoffed. "Can't hear you darling--because she is definitely your daughter."
"I object!" Maria Santiago leapt to her feet, dark eyes flashing. "in the name of all that is blessed in this forsaken country, I object!"
"Sit down, woman!" The General hissed. His face had grown red even though he struggled to project a look of outward calm. "This is not the time or the place for your hysterical-"
Those accusing dark eyes turned to him, fixed on his reddening face, a new strain of emotion visible on her face. "I warned you," she said, lowly. "I warned all of you--and you won't listen. This time, you'll pay for your actions and I won't be your scapegoat."
"Grab her!" the lawyer cried, directing the courtroom officers to where she'd already climbed atop the courtroom bench. "Don't let her-"
But Maria had already stripped out of her suit jacket and shirt, dark red scales rippling along the surface of her skin. "You had your warnings," she rasped, voice more of a hiss than tone at this point. "And this was my final one."
The guards reached for her as the transformation completed itself.
In a flicker of movement, a royal red dragon stood perched atop the bench's rail. Angry yellow eyes clouded over and sharp teeth gaped from the open mouth.
An open mouth that screamed a volley of flame.
He peeled his feet off the floor and began to poke at the rubbery toes with one metal-tipped finger. "It's not too bad," he said, shaking the prosthetic out. "It should hold up through one more of those." Holding it up to his knee, he mentally undid the security locks for the appendage to reattach itself.
This particular pair of legs was his favorite--mainly because they were idiot proof and partially because, well, who wouldn't want a pair of legs that walked on their own? It was the best way to weed out potential friends and suitors--those that ran screaming, well, he was better off without them, wasn't he--OW!
He pouted over one shoulder at Gina. "What?"
"If you're trying to scare me, you idiot, congratulations--it worked!" She thumped him on the head again, her cheeks flushing red, free hand fisted at her side. "What part of--I'm a fire elemental, keep back--was so difficult to understand?"
"Eh-heh," he gulped.
"Maybe next time I'll use smaller words!" She snapped. "Or--better yet. I won't mention it at all. Then we can peel you off the ceiling and Nara can practice her revival skills." With a huff, she stalked off, leaving the rest of them staring after her.
Nara scooted over after a few minutes, a sympathetic look on her round face. "Don't worry, kid," she patted his arm. "She liked you enough to show off, so I don't think she'll fry you any time soon. Roast a bit--maybe on the edges, but you'll live."
He swallowed harder. Maybe freaking people out wasn't worth the hassle anymore.
"Screenplay?" He frowned. "That's not the most lucrative career, dearest. Why don't you try something a little more--liberating?"
"Like what, skydiving?"
"Er, no. There's death in that."
"There's death in everything and you see it everywhere."
"I can't help it!"
"Most people can!"
For a moment, they stood there, chest to chest, angry eyes flashing, hands fisted at thier sides. She looked away. He looked down. Neither of them spoke. He rubbed his face and took a step back.
"Look. Fine. If you want to write, go ahead. I'm just saying you won't be able to publish them, alright?"
"Why not?"
"Because you've been dead for sixteen years, dearest--and it still hasn't quite registered."
He left her standing there, her form wisping in and out of nothingness. He wouldn't stop her and because he wouldn't--she would have to stop herself.
"You will do as you are told and that is final!" Master Lumere growled. His eyes flashed gold and his magic quieted, but his voice was soft only for my ears to hear. I knew that he did not want to make a scene. I also knew that he was very wrong.
We would all suffer if he did not open his eyes and see what was before him.
"Very well, Master," I bit the title off, unable to help myself. I bristled inward and out, leaning just close enough for the position to be mistaken, if any of the guards were so stupid as to assume such a thing. "I obey, but under protest. Let it be noted."
his jaw clenched and his hands curled into fists. "It is noted," he ground out. "Be gone with you!"
The choice of words was his protest, but it was also my freedom. He never realized that with his short temper, every time he snapped those careless phrases at me, my apprentice contract unraveled another five inches.
Tonight, I would be free of him.
Then I would help. I would help them all.
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writing since 2011 · 222 entries · 217 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Sara showed up.
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217days written
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the words Sara reaches for
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