Dommik’s unhinged grimace quickly faded from his terrible visage and he bellowed in disbelief as he closed upon the little fae and the dying old mage. He was quickly weakening from the attack, but that didn’t stop him from trying one more time. He brought his hands together once more and muttered the same incantation. Just as the power began to build within his hands, he was struck with a sudden burning sensation all over his body. He toppled over, hissing and cursing, as he tangled painfully into an iron net.
There, coming up on the horizon just behind the beaten and battered pair, was a Watch task force headed by none other than Ezileus Gremarim. WIth a great deal of his strength returned, he was able to push the order through. Unfortunately, they were perhaps a few moments too late. As the team of Watch members descended upon the feral Dommik, Detective Gremarim knelt beside Alexia, struggling to keep his expression strong.
“P-Please…” That was all Alexia could manage before dissolving into sobs. With a deep, shuddering breath, Detective Gremarim gave a single firm nod and stood. With a few of his long legged strides, he rejoined the group just as they tightened a pair of manacles on the vile elven traitor. No sooner had they hoisted him up to standing than the Detective pulled back and delivered a jaw crunching blow to his pallid face. Dommik spit out a mouthful of blood and teeth and still managed to smile mockingly, even opening his mouth to unleash some undoubtedly biting response. But Ezileus would have none of it. He reared his powerful fist and struck him again. And again. And again, until finally, one of the officers, the one who fired the caster that had neutralized him, put a firm hand on his shoulder.
“That’s enough, Grem! He’s not worth it and you know it!” He reasoned with the enraged detective.
“Back off, O'Dornan! You don’t understa-”
“Yes! I do. And you do, too. You kill him, there’ll be three more just like him in a week! You think I don’t know? You think any of us don’t know?! We all trained with the great Owen Shadowsoul at some point! But this isn’t going to bring him back. Walk away. Walk away! Go help the girl! Just walk away!” Officer O’Dornan managed to put himself between the detective and the crazed zealot. “Walk away, Grem. Don’t let him have any more power.”
Reluctantly, the detective took a step back. After a few steadying breaths, he nodded at Officer O’Dornan and made his way back to the weeping fae and her dying uncle.
Insignificant Little Fae
Moderators: Alexia Longbow, Dah
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Alexia Longbow
- Adventurer
- Posts: 91
- Joined: Thu Jun 07, 2018 12:26 am
- Location: Rhy'Din
-
Alexia Longbow
- Adventurer
- Posts: 91
- Joined: Thu Jun 07, 2018 12:26 am
- Location: Rhy'Din
Re: Insignificant Little Fae
“Please…” Alexia pleaded softly, her tiny form suddenly wracked with overpowering sobs. She reached for Owen’s face, broken, bleeding little fingers straining.
“No, luachmhor aon. Don’t waste your strength. I… I’m not long fer this world.” Owen’s breathing was quickly weakening, taking on the telltale rattle Alexia’s had just moments before.
“B-But… wh-what do I…” The little fae began. She didn’t want to think about losing the only family member she had left. “I… I-I n-need-”
“All you need,” He rasped as he used his last bit of strength to lift his trembling hand to point a hair’s breadth below her clavicle. “Is right here. I only hope… someday you can fergive me.”
“B-But I d-d-don’t kn-know what to d-do. P-Please, t-t-tell me wh-what to do!” Hot tears streamed down her face, leaving twin trails streaking through blood and ash.
“You live. Tha’s what you do.” The words no longer carried his voice. The life was quickly fading from his eyes and a sad, regretful smile pulled at his lips. “Your mother… would have been so proud of y-”
Suddenly, Owen Shadowsoul was gone. Alexia collapsed on his still chest just as Detective Gremarim returned. Robbed of his chance to say goodbye to his beloved and respected mentor, he refused to interrupt hers. Instead, he offered his support by quietly kneeling beside her and would have remained a silent sentry. Had the Watch team not walked their prisoner past them.
“My condolences for the dearly departed.” With a sick sense of pleasure, Dommik smiled through blood and missing teeth and chuckled low, his words oozing out like slime.
Before Officer O’Dornan could shove Dommik along, Detective Gremarim pulled his caster out of its holster, and in one swift fluid movement, fired an iron slug between his eyes. Without so much as batting an eyelash, he turned back to the grieving little fae to offer an apology, but when he faced her, she was in the throes of a panic attack.
“D-Don’t leave! P-P-Please! Don’t l-leave me all a-l-l-one!” She desperately clung to her uncle’s lifeless body as she cried out over and over until she began to hyperventilate. Right before Gremarim’s eyes, a myriad of ruins, symbols, inscriptions, and glyphs began to glow just under the surface of her skin. For a moment, he feared they would burn her, though she seemed not to notice. After a moment or two, many of them began to fade and disintegrate from under her skin, like the dying embers of a candle wick that eventually gave way to thin streams of light grey smoke. Before long, her breathing grew so strained and erratic, she collapsed, unconscious and yet still somehow sobbing.
Officer O’Dornan did not speak. He simply motioned for two of the officers to remove Dommik’s body. Detective Gremarim gingerly lifted the unconscious Alexia, giving the remaining officers room to tend to Owen’s body as well. It may have been too late for his mentor, but he would not fail Alexia. Not wasting any more time, it was a mad dash to the hospital.
“No, luachmhor aon. Don’t waste your strength. I… I’m not long fer this world.” Owen’s breathing was quickly weakening, taking on the telltale rattle Alexia’s had just moments before.
“B-But… wh-what do I…” The little fae began. She didn’t want to think about losing the only family member she had left. “I… I-I n-need-”
“All you need,” He rasped as he used his last bit of strength to lift his trembling hand to point a hair’s breadth below her clavicle. “Is right here. I only hope… someday you can fergive me.”
“B-But I d-d-don’t kn-know what to d-do. P-Please, t-t-tell me wh-what to do!” Hot tears streamed down her face, leaving twin trails streaking through blood and ash.
“You live. Tha’s what you do.” The words no longer carried his voice. The life was quickly fading from his eyes and a sad, regretful smile pulled at his lips. “Your mother… would have been so proud of y-”
Suddenly, Owen Shadowsoul was gone. Alexia collapsed on his still chest just as Detective Gremarim returned. Robbed of his chance to say goodbye to his beloved and respected mentor, he refused to interrupt hers. Instead, he offered his support by quietly kneeling beside her and would have remained a silent sentry. Had the Watch team not walked their prisoner past them.
“My condolences for the dearly departed.” With a sick sense of pleasure, Dommik smiled through blood and missing teeth and chuckled low, his words oozing out like slime.
Before Officer O’Dornan could shove Dommik along, Detective Gremarim pulled his caster out of its holster, and in one swift fluid movement, fired an iron slug between his eyes. Without so much as batting an eyelash, he turned back to the grieving little fae to offer an apology, but when he faced her, she was in the throes of a panic attack.
“D-Don’t leave! P-P-Please! Don’t l-leave me all a-l-l-one!” She desperately clung to her uncle’s lifeless body as she cried out over and over until she began to hyperventilate. Right before Gremarim’s eyes, a myriad of ruins, symbols, inscriptions, and glyphs began to glow just under the surface of her skin. For a moment, he feared they would burn her, though she seemed not to notice. After a moment or two, many of them began to fade and disintegrate from under her skin, like the dying embers of a candle wick that eventually gave way to thin streams of light grey smoke. Before long, her breathing grew so strained and erratic, she collapsed, unconscious and yet still somehow sobbing.
Officer O’Dornan did not speak. He simply motioned for two of the officers to remove Dommik’s body. Detective Gremarim gingerly lifted the unconscious Alexia, giving the remaining officers room to tend to Owen’s body as well. It may have been too late for his mentor, but he would not fail Alexia. Not wasting any more time, it was a mad dash to the hospital.
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Alexia Longbow
- Adventurer
- Posts: 91
- Joined: Thu Jun 07, 2018 12:26 am
- Location: Rhy'Din
Re: Insignificant Little Fae
A week later, after dozens of surgeries to re-break and reset broken bones, excise infected tissue, repair deep wounds and countless rounds of medications and so much more, a weak but very much alive Alexia finally woke. Dazed and heavily medicated, at first she thought she had not survived her ordeal. The hospital room was pristine white and she was all alone. Or so she thought.
“Well, now, look who’s awake.” Detective Gremarim’s deep voice was soft and rumbling, a touch of relief unmistakable in his tone. Alexia slowly turned to look at him with those deep dark brown eyes that held unfathomable grief and his already shaky smile quickly faded.
“I’m so sorry, my dear. I know that doesn’t change anything. Make anything better. But I am. I really, truly am.” The years seemed to have piled on in the lines that etched into his face.
He reached to gently pat her hand, but stopped short as he gazed at the bandages. With a shake of his head, he slowly sat up straight. Alexia could practically hear his bones creak with every movement. She was certain he had spent at least one night in the uncomfortable looking chair. Rather than remain upright, he leaned to one side and dug into his pocket, procuring a handful of items.
“These should have ended up in evidence, but they would have just sat in there for years collecting dust. And with… nobody to convict, it just didn’t seem right.” There was an odd tone in his voice. It was the exhausted tone of a man who was under review by the Watch Internal Review Board for allowing a civilian to accompany him to question a witness, permitting that same civilian access to guarded information in an ongoing investigation, and discharging his caster and killing a suspect that was already under Watch control. But before Alexia could dwell on it further, she watched him place four things on the nearby rolling tray, well within her reach.
She could see them clear as day. One was his card with his personal contact information, which he explained was for her to use if she ever needed help or simply wanted someone to talk to. The rest were the three things Owen the Marred had in his possession when he died; a flask, a hairbrush, and an old sketch of herself. She stared at them as the detective quietly made his way to the door where he paused, hoping to have something meaningful and poignant to say. Instead, all he could come up with was another soft murmur of apology.
It would be another three weeks before Alexia would be released from the hospital. Three weeks of strong medications, intense physical therapies, and even a few revisional surgeries. Finally, in the middle of March, she sat on the hospital bed she had come to know so well, in front of nurses and doctors she was more than familiar with. She held discharge papers in her bandaged little hand as one of the nurses went over after care with her.
“You will have someone at home to help you with this, won’t you, dear?” The nurse asked, only trying to look out for her patient.
Alexia stared at her for a long moment, her expression blank and impassive, those large dark brown eyes lost in a thousand yard stare. When she finally answered, she looked down at her heavily wrapped hands… and lied.
“Y-Yes.”
“Good to hear it! Alright, let’s get you home.”
Home. It was such a strange concept. She knew exactly where she lived, where she slept, where she ate her meals. But it had never been her home. She had felt like an unwanted stranger for as long as she could remember and now, returning to the ramshackle little cabin near the university, she felt more like an intruder than ever. There was no drunk angry uncle waiting for her to tell her how stupid she had been to leave the cabin or to yell at her for not being around when he needed help with some thing or another. And really, she couldn’t decide which felt worse. Until she arrived at the door.
With a deep, shaky breath, she reached for the handle and pressed in, the entire place dark save for a few dingy windows letting in a bit of sunlight. When she crossed the threshold and there was no shouting, no glass smashing on the floor, no sound whatsoever, she let that breath of air out. Using the meager weight of her battered little body, she pushed backward into the door, closing it with a soft click and slid down to sit in front of it, her knees pulled up to her chest. Everything was exactly as she left it, save for the boards that now closed off her late uncle’s room. She would deal with that later.
For a long time, she sat in silence, almost convinced she could do this. She could survive on her own, alone. Until she glanced at her wrist. There, covering part of a two inch thick band of an angry red burn mark already on the mend, was her medical bracelet. It had all the necessary information. Her full name, hospital room number, her date of birth... Her date of birth. Then something occurred to her. Something she had seen but didn’t quite register at the time. Despite the nurses’ best efforts to tighten the bracelet to fit her, she was still able to slip right out of it and hold it up for better inspection. She began to shake her head. It couldn’t be. With her free hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the folded up discharge papers, shaking them open carefully. There, next to the doctor’s signature, was the current date. Her breathing quickened and her lip trembled as it pulled into a deep frown before completely dissolving into hysterical sobs. It was, indeed, her birthday. Defeated, she closed her eyes and curled into a ball. Hugging her knees tightly, she wept.
“Well, now, look who’s awake.” Detective Gremarim’s deep voice was soft and rumbling, a touch of relief unmistakable in his tone. Alexia slowly turned to look at him with those deep dark brown eyes that held unfathomable grief and his already shaky smile quickly faded.
“I’m so sorry, my dear. I know that doesn’t change anything. Make anything better. But I am. I really, truly am.” The years seemed to have piled on in the lines that etched into his face.
He reached to gently pat her hand, but stopped short as he gazed at the bandages. With a shake of his head, he slowly sat up straight. Alexia could practically hear his bones creak with every movement. She was certain he had spent at least one night in the uncomfortable looking chair. Rather than remain upright, he leaned to one side and dug into his pocket, procuring a handful of items.
“These should have ended up in evidence, but they would have just sat in there for years collecting dust. And with… nobody to convict, it just didn’t seem right.” There was an odd tone in his voice. It was the exhausted tone of a man who was under review by the Watch Internal Review Board for allowing a civilian to accompany him to question a witness, permitting that same civilian access to guarded information in an ongoing investigation, and discharging his caster and killing a suspect that was already under Watch control. But before Alexia could dwell on it further, she watched him place four things on the nearby rolling tray, well within her reach.
She could see them clear as day. One was his card with his personal contact information, which he explained was for her to use if she ever needed help or simply wanted someone to talk to. The rest were the three things Owen the Marred had in his possession when he died; a flask, a hairbrush, and an old sketch of herself. She stared at them as the detective quietly made his way to the door where he paused, hoping to have something meaningful and poignant to say. Instead, all he could come up with was another soft murmur of apology.
It would be another three weeks before Alexia would be released from the hospital. Three weeks of strong medications, intense physical therapies, and even a few revisional surgeries. Finally, in the middle of March, she sat on the hospital bed she had come to know so well, in front of nurses and doctors she was more than familiar with. She held discharge papers in her bandaged little hand as one of the nurses went over after care with her.
“You will have someone at home to help you with this, won’t you, dear?” The nurse asked, only trying to look out for her patient.
Alexia stared at her for a long moment, her expression blank and impassive, those large dark brown eyes lost in a thousand yard stare. When she finally answered, she looked down at her heavily wrapped hands… and lied.
“Y-Yes.”
“Good to hear it! Alright, let’s get you home.”
Home. It was such a strange concept. She knew exactly where she lived, where she slept, where she ate her meals. But it had never been her home. She had felt like an unwanted stranger for as long as she could remember and now, returning to the ramshackle little cabin near the university, she felt more like an intruder than ever. There was no drunk angry uncle waiting for her to tell her how stupid she had been to leave the cabin or to yell at her for not being around when he needed help with some thing or another. And really, she couldn’t decide which felt worse. Until she arrived at the door.
With a deep, shaky breath, she reached for the handle and pressed in, the entire place dark save for a few dingy windows letting in a bit of sunlight. When she crossed the threshold and there was no shouting, no glass smashing on the floor, no sound whatsoever, she let that breath of air out. Using the meager weight of her battered little body, she pushed backward into the door, closing it with a soft click and slid down to sit in front of it, her knees pulled up to her chest. Everything was exactly as she left it, save for the boards that now closed off her late uncle’s room. She would deal with that later.
For a long time, she sat in silence, almost convinced she could do this. She could survive on her own, alone. Until she glanced at her wrist. There, covering part of a two inch thick band of an angry red burn mark already on the mend, was her medical bracelet. It had all the necessary information. Her full name, hospital room number, her date of birth... Her date of birth. Then something occurred to her. Something she had seen but didn’t quite register at the time. Despite the nurses’ best efforts to tighten the bracelet to fit her, she was still able to slip right out of it and hold it up for better inspection. She began to shake her head. It couldn’t be. With her free hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled out the folded up discharge papers, shaking them open carefully. There, next to the doctor’s signature, was the current date. Her breathing quickened and her lip trembled as it pulled into a deep frown before completely dissolving into hysterical sobs. It was, indeed, her birthday. Defeated, she closed her eyes and curled into a ball. Hugging her knees tightly, she wept.
Re: Insignificant Little Fae
2021
Danny stared at his computer screen, the cursor blinking in its slow, steady rhythm. The horrific, painful, tragic story the woman he loved had just spilled was sprawled in black and white over several pages in the document. Throughout it all, he struggled to keep up with her through tearful eyes. He could almost feel her pain, her anguish. Every cut of the knife taking a little something more from her. Now, there were no more words. There was just the empty silence and soft, even breaths as Alexia got some much-needed rest.
He fell back against the chair, a shuddering breath leaving his pale, numb-looking face. Danny swallowed hard and ran shaking hands down his face. Files and paperwork documenting her story sat in a pile at his desk, showing images he never wanted to look at again. Pictures he was certain would never leave his mind. Finally, he turned his green-eyed gaze toward Alexia.
Long since lost in a deep and troubled sleep, her sweet face, streaked with dried tears, contorted into an expression of immeasurable pain and sorrow, of rage and guilt. She had left nothing out, even going so far as to use their deep connection and her empathic abilities to re-awaken some of his memories from their first meeting, and to show him first hand some of the things she had gone through. Now, her story would be told, Danny’s article and photographs published. For better or worse, the world would know of her ordeal.
Now, looking smaller and more frail than ever, she lay on the couch, curled into a trembling little ball. Suddenly, as though a particularly nasty memory, one of so many, had resurfaced once more, she whimpered softly but didn’t quite stir. Not just yet.
It wasn't a new sensation that filled him. It was the same feeling he'd always had when he looked at her. The feeling that he wanted to do everything in his power to make sure that little fae never felt a hint of sorrow or pain again. The urge to wrap her in his arms and just hold her forever as if it would make the story, the feelings, and the pictures not true. He'd give anything to take that away. Maybe he couldn't do that, he thought. He was only human, afterall. But there was something he COULD do right now. He pushed up from his desk chair and walked the few steps to round the couch and leaned down.
Danny was certain he'd never get used to how light she was as he scooped her tiny form into his arms. For a long moment, he just held her head to his chest, lightly stroking her hair with his thumb, his lips pressed against her right temple. The scent of her hair filtered in through his nostrils as he inhaled deeply.
It didn't take long, only a moment or two, before the tension in her features began to soften. Her knitted brows relaxed and the trembling stopped almost immediately. Soon, she was at utter peace. After a while, she took a deep breath, a tiny hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. She let the air out with a long feather soft sigh of contentment and serenity she could only feel when she was safe in his arms. With a small turn of her head, she snuggled deeply into his chest, the unmistakable scent of lavender and chamomile emanating from her skin, from her very being.
It was that unique scent that clued him in. The tall journalist peered down at the peacefully slumbering beauty in his arms, a warm smile spreading across his dimpled face. She'd reopened a wound she kept buried for years and it took a lot out of them both. Now, there was only one thing he wanted. Danny carried her to the bed, gently setting her down before he curled up behind her, protectively wrapping an arm around her waist as their bodies curled together as if they were made for each other. It took a moment, but eventually, the rhythm of his breath matched hers and his eyes had begun to drift shut.
As he settled in behind her, she sighed softly and instinctively turned toward him, snuggling ever deeper into his arms. Those large dark eyes remained closed even as she murmured gently into the crook of his neck, her voice slightly muffled and thick with exhaustion.
"It did..."
Slowly, Danny's eyes slid open again, his brows knit in confusion.
"It did what?" he murmured quietly. Alexia smiled sleepily as she slipped a thin arm across his torso, her deeply scarred little hand pressing gently into his back, leaving a warm feeling to slowly spread.
"Get b-better." Her voice barely above a whisper as she was already falling back into a deep sleep, only this time, it would be filled with beautiful dreams.
Danny stared at his computer screen, the cursor blinking in its slow, steady rhythm. The horrific, painful, tragic story the woman he loved had just spilled was sprawled in black and white over several pages in the document. Throughout it all, he struggled to keep up with her through tearful eyes. He could almost feel her pain, her anguish. Every cut of the knife taking a little something more from her. Now, there were no more words. There was just the empty silence and soft, even breaths as Alexia got some much-needed rest.
He fell back against the chair, a shuddering breath leaving his pale, numb-looking face. Danny swallowed hard and ran shaking hands down his face. Files and paperwork documenting her story sat in a pile at his desk, showing images he never wanted to look at again. Pictures he was certain would never leave his mind. Finally, he turned his green-eyed gaze toward Alexia.
Long since lost in a deep and troubled sleep, her sweet face, streaked with dried tears, contorted into an expression of immeasurable pain and sorrow, of rage and guilt. She had left nothing out, even going so far as to use their deep connection and her empathic abilities to re-awaken some of his memories from their first meeting, and to show him first hand some of the things she had gone through. Now, her story would be told, Danny’s article and photographs published. For better or worse, the world would know of her ordeal.
Now, looking smaller and more frail than ever, she lay on the couch, curled into a trembling little ball. Suddenly, as though a particularly nasty memory, one of so many, had resurfaced once more, she whimpered softly but didn’t quite stir. Not just yet.
It wasn't a new sensation that filled him. It was the same feeling he'd always had when he looked at her. The feeling that he wanted to do everything in his power to make sure that little fae never felt a hint of sorrow or pain again. The urge to wrap her in his arms and just hold her forever as if it would make the story, the feelings, and the pictures not true. He'd give anything to take that away. Maybe he couldn't do that, he thought. He was only human, afterall. But there was something he COULD do right now. He pushed up from his desk chair and walked the few steps to round the couch and leaned down.
Danny was certain he'd never get used to how light she was as he scooped her tiny form into his arms. For a long moment, he just held her head to his chest, lightly stroking her hair with his thumb, his lips pressed against her right temple. The scent of her hair filtered in through his nostrils as he inhaled deeply.
It didn't take long, only a moment or two, before the tension in her features began to soften. Her knitted brows relaxed and the trembling stopped almost immediately. Soon, she was at utter peace. After a while, she took a deep breath, a tiny hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. She let the air out with a long feather soft sigh of contentment and serenity she could only feel when she was safe in his arms. With a small turn of her head, she snuggled deeply into his chest, the unmistakable scent of lavender and chamomile emanating from her skin, from her very being.
It was that unique scent that clued him in. The tall journalist peered down at the peacefully slumbering beauty in his arms, a warm smile spreading across his dimpled face. She'd reopened a wound she kept buried for years and it took a lot out of them both. Now, there was only one thing he wanted. Danny carried her to the bed, gently setting her down before he curled up behind her, protectively wrapping an arm around her waist as their bodies curled together as if they were made for each other. It took a moment, but eventually, the rhythm of his breath matched hers and his eyes had begun to drift shut.
As he settled in behind her, she sighed softly and instinctively turned toward him, snuggling ever deeper into his arms. Those large dark eyes remained closed even as she murmured gently into the crook of his neck, her voice slightly muffled and thick with exhaustion.
"It did..."
Slowly, Danny's eyes slid open again, his brows knit in confusion.
"It did what?" he murmured quietly. Alexia smiled sleepily as she slipped a thin arm across his torso, her deeply scarred little hand pressing gently into his back, leaving a warm feeling to slowly spread.
"Get b-better." Her voice barely above a whisper as she was already falling back into a deep sleep, only this time, it would be filled with beautiful dreams.
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