Eddie’s Words

[Cash67 Where’s/Perry]

On 7/4/2024 at 9:32 PM, Edema Rue said:

Here’s another lil scene I wrote…it has a lot of potential, but there are also a lot of things I’d like to change, especially the ending. I think it’d also work better as like…a short animated clip than a short story. But I like it, and I hope y’all do too

Also, there’s a song by The Amazing Devil that’s been stuck in my head for a good minute now called Secret Worlds…it’s kinda woven throughout this scene.

EDIT: and also one called Farewell Wanderlust, it would seem.

Secret Worlds:

  Hide contents

The boy could feel it when someone looked over his shoulder. He could tell that someone was reading as he scribbled down word after word. He glanced up furiously at a girl. She grinned, and before he could say a word she grabbed his hand. 

“Come on.” 

He stumbled after her, unsure what else to do. He tried to pull his hand away, but she gripped it tighter, and suddenly they were out the door and into a garden he’d swear he’d never seen before. The girl cocked her head, looking back at him.

“That’s new.”

“What’s new?”

“This.” She winked and gestured out to the flowers and trees. 

He clutched at his notebook. “Who are you?”

“I’m me,” she said, pulling him deeper in. “Come on.”

“Why?” 

“I’m me,” she repeated.

So he followed.

The garden seemed to stretch for an eternity, the boy wrote after. It was every color I’ve ever seen, and a few more too. One of the trees had blossoms, and when I followed her under it they fell, and it looked like snow. The whole world was lost under curtains of white, and all I could hear was laughter. I kept following her, of course I did, and there was so much more. There were flowers brighter than the sun, mountains sharper than knives, grass I wanted to lie on forever…

I don’t have the words to describe it.

But it was a world like nothing I thought existed. 

Just before she left, she said, “Write me well, love.” I don’t know if I can do that.

When she next appeared, it was late. The boy heard a tapping on his window, and looked over to see her face. He blinked, thinking he was dreaming, then stood up and crossed to her. 

“Follow me!” She whispered slyly.

The boy looked longingly back at his warm bed. Then he stepped out the window. On the other side was an unfamiliar street made of stone. Ancient looking houses lined it. When he looked back, his window was fit into a cottage that matched the rest of them. He poked his head back through the window, and he was in his room again. He leaned outside, and he was on a dark street.

“Come on!”

He went. 

There were so many stars. That’s what I noticed most. There were no street lamps, no lights in the distance, and the stars were so bright. It was like someone spilled a bucket of glowing sand across the sky. We walked and she laughed. I know that we talked. I don’t remember what we said.

I know that I asked her name. Right at the start. “What’s your name?” I said.

She looked at me for a long time. It was almost frightening. “The devil knows my name,” she finally said, “so I’d rather you didn’t.”

That was all. I don’t mind. 

Somehow, I don’t think there’s a name that would fit her. 

Her fingers were stained a bright purple as she ate blackberries. He ate them too, from a basket that sat between them on a log. Then, in a moment of strange daring that sent his heart pounding, the boy picked up the basket and scooted into its place. The girl’s eyes filled with delight, and she rested her head on his shoulder. It felt like a challenge. So the boy ran his hand through her hair. 

Today was…

Weird.

I’m not really sure how else to describe it.

She was quiet, subdued. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I wanted to ask if she was okay. I wanted to make it okay. I should have been able to make it okay. It’s—it’s what I do. It’s what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to know what to say. I didn’t. I think she understood, though.

She kind of smiled. It was a really sad smile. “I don’t think I want to laugh today,” she said. “I don’t think I can. Should we see where it takes us?” I nodded. I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. She squeezed back. Then we opened the door. 

The place on the other side defied any description I can give. We weren’t inside, but we weren’t outside either. The ground wasn’t stone, or sand, or grass. Wood might be the closest comparison, but it wasn’t that either. There was no color. It wasn’t black and white. It wasn’t gray.

It was colorless.

I don’t think it’s possible to explain how terrifying that was.

There was no color. 

She seemed as scared as I was, so I squeezed her hand tighter. 

Then this darkness came out of her. It didn’t have a color either; it was just dark. It soaked her shirt like blood. It dripped out of her and she gasped. That was scarier. I thought I would lose her. But I didn’t. And then the darkness was flooding off of me, too. It was cold. It was endless.

We ran.

That wasn’t something we could have fought or hid from. It was all the nameless things that sleep with us at night, and they’d been brought to life by whatever secret world we’d tried to escape to.

We have so many secret worlds.

I’d just never seen one so cruel.

But there was a comfort in it. She has the darkness too.

I thought I was the only one.

They called the boy weird. They avoided him as best they could. He couldn’t care. In his most lonely moments, he felt her hand in his. He heard her voice in his mind.

“Write me well, love.”

So the boy kept scribbling into a notebook. And each time the girl appeared, he followed her in a heartbeat.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Terrified.”

Trees. I never expected trees, of all things. 

They were so tall. They were curved and wild and utterly free. And they were huge. Magnificent. I couldn’t even see the sky from the bottom. She led me to a tree and I saw that there was a staircase encircling it. So we climbed. We climbed so high. And at the top, there were branches thicker than most trees’ trunks. We walked out on them and the world became green and bright and even more strange. 

It was like we were birds. We jumped from branch to branch, and for once I didn’t worry that I’d fall. Each pool of light was a shard of stained glass. She danced through them, and I laughed. It felt nice to laugh. 

The girl took him to the sea. 

It wasn’t the one of crystalline water and white sand. This beach was a deep gray, nearly black, and the waves were purple, the foam a dazzling lavender. It crashed against the rocks, and the boy shivered. The girl gasped, and ran forward to touch the water.

“Freezing,” she reported. Then she cocked her head. “What’s wrong?”

“What?” The boy frowned. “Why would something be wrong?”

She raised an eyebrow haughtily. “We don’t find these worlds. We make them.”

“We do?”

“We do.” She smiled softly. “And this world feels like a broken heart.”

“So,” the boy said, understanding, “is it mine, or yours?”

They explored that shattered world for a long time. They found sharp cliffs and icy tide pools. They waded into the water, then ran back to shore when it got too cold to stand. They built a fire of driftwood and sat next to it. 

“She told me to smile,” the boy blurted. The girl met his eyes, listening but not interrupting. “She told me to be happy.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking several ragged breaths. “I don’t think I can.”

“You don’t need to,” the girl said. 

“But I should be,” the boy said miserably. “I have no reason not to.”

“Yes you do,” the girl said. She put her hand over his heart. “That’s your reason. Remember the darkness? It’s in you. And it’s in me. But it isn’t in her, and so she doesn’t understand it.”

“But…” the boy trailed off. “How can I make her understand?”

“I don’t know.”

“I have to make her understand.” The boy made a motion, as if writing. “I’m supposed to make them understand. I’m supposed to be able to write until they see how it is.”

The girl nodded once. “But do you understand it?”

“No.”

“Then maybe,” she said thoughtfully, “you need to understand it first.”

They sat quietly for a long time, staring into the dancing flames. “I don’t want to go back,” the boy finally said.

“Me either.” The girl swallowed. “It’s frightening there.”

“But you’re so brave.”

The girl shook her head. “Not there. It’s easy to be brave when they aren’t around.”

“Oh.” The boy didn’t have the words. He wanted to say something. He wanted to tell her she was the bravest person he’d ever met. He wanted to explain how much he trusted her. He wanted to say he understood. But the words in his mouth were clumsy, not like on paper. None of them seemed to be what he meant. So he put his arm around her shoulder. “Maybe we can stay here for a while.”

“That sounds nice.”

She’s—

I’m—

We

I don’t

I can’t

I don’t have the words.

I don’t have the words. 

I wanted…

I…

Hoped.

I hoped.

She

She let me

Hope.

And now—

No.

I can’t.

I…

I could write it.

I could write it all.

The words would come.

But they wouldn’t

They wouldn’t be right. 

They wouldn’t feel.

They wouldn’t show

That I

Feel.

I know it couldn’t last forever.

I don’t

Know why

I expected it to.

Because now she’s gone, she’s gone, she’s gone she’s gone SHE’S GONE and I

I don’t

There’s

Nothing.

I 

Numb.

I’m numb.

I can’t

Cry

Why can’t I cry?

I keep looking

Outside

And waiting

For her

To

To

To be there.

I can’t

Quite

Comprehend.

I can’t

Believe

That she isn’t

Coming back.

She isn’t

Coming back.

He took her he took her he took her

He took her. 

She told me she warned me

The devil knows my name, she said, the devil knows my name and the devil knew her name, he knew her name and he took her away and she’s gone

She’s

Gone

Because I

Asked

I asked

Why did I ask

I wanted

I thought

We were safe

That whole place

It was so dark. It was so terrible.

It was my

Fault

My fault my fault my fault all my fault my fault

my

fault

She came

“I don’t think we should go today,” she said. We were both hurting so much, and she knew what would happen if we went in. I told her okay, I told her we could stay. We didn’t have to make anything today. And then

I opened

My bedroom

Door

And on the other side

The other side

The other

The other side.

It was

It

It

It was

I can’t write it.

I don’t want to see it.

But

I have to

If 

If I don’t write it

Then they

Won’t know

They won’t know

About her. 

I can’t let myself forget her.

I can’t let them think nothing happened.

I opened the door and it pulled me through. And before I even realized what was happening, she jumped through after me.

She was so brave.

The boy and girl fell into a world of sharp things, cold things, dark things, angry things. Everything in it wanted to destroy them. It tore at their faces and it tore at their hearts. 

“Look at me,” the girl whispered. “Look at me.”

The boy met her eyes. “You don’t have to be scared here,” he whispered.

“And you don’t have to be alone,” she said. He gripped her hand, and she entwined their fingers. “This is our world, remember?”

“Our world,” he repeated. “Our broken hearts, our paradise. Ours.”

“Ours.”

The boy leaned to her, and she pressed her mouth to his for a single, desperate moment. “We don’t need to be scared here,” he repeated.

The world heard them, and it answered them. It calmed. As their hearts stopped pounding, the storm slowed to a gentle fall of rain. The boy looked at the girl, and together they burst into laughter. Soaking wet, filled with adrenaline, they laughed. 

“So,” the girl finally said. 

“So,” the boy repeated. “We. Uh. We’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” the girl said, brushing away a lingering tear. “We…will. We will.”

The boy watched her for a long moment. She watched him back. “What’s your name?” He asked quietly.

She stiffened. “I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t?” The boy asked sadly, “or won’t? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” the girl said, leaning into him. “More than anyone.”

“I don’t know your name.”

The girl hesitated. She hesitated for a long, long moment. “Okay,” she whispered. “But you can’t use it. You can’t say it, not even once, because he knows my name.”

The boy nodded, and the girl leaned and breathed a single word into his ear. 

It happened before I could stop myself.

I…

I said her name. I repeated it. I wanted to feel it on my tongue, I wanted to hear it spoken out loud.

“Ari,” I said.

And she screamed. 

She sounded so scared, so hurt. She—

She sounded like she must have felt.

Like she knew what I’d done.

Then he was there, a thin figure in a black cloak. He stalked towards her, he reached for her and she hid behind me. I

I was

She

I

She turned to me to protect her. It was my fault it was my fault and she trusted me to protect her

And I froze

I

Froze.

He put his arm around her waist. “I’ve missed you, Ari,” he crooned. And I opened my mouth but I couldn’t speak and she was screaming, screaming, screaming. “It’s okay,” he told her. 

“You don’t need to be afraid here.”

She shouldn’t have needed to be afraid.

It was our world

It was

Ours

But he held her

And the storm

Turned

From rain to thunder and lightning and wind

It came back

So much stronger

Than before. 

The wind whipped at our faces, and just then I saw her darkness

The shadow that lived in her most secret heart

It exploded out

And it

It overcame her

It surrounded her

I reached

I tried

I promise

Ari

I tried

But he reached first.

He ran his hand along her cheek, and darkness trailed from his fingertips like a weapon. He took the pain we’ve been fighting and learned to use it. 

The girl struggled against the grip of the devil. The boy tried to reach her and found himself caught in the storm. 

Then the devil turned, and he met my eyes, and then I was falling out of the world. “Thanks,” he hissed, “for calling me.” 

She watched me. Her eyes were wide and terrified, and I knew her heart was beating too fast. I opened my mouth, but he spoke first, and then I was back in my room.

“It’s too bad you couldn’t protect her.”

I couldn’t

I couldn’t protect her

She’s

She

She

Gone.

She’s gone.

I’m sorry.

I’m so

I’m so 

Sorry.

 

Stop giving me emotions gosh dang it!

[WhyEverNot_8 he/him]

On 7/4/2024 at 9:32 PM, Edema Rue said:

Here’s another lil scene I wrote…it has a lot of potential, but there are also a lot of things I’d like to change, especially the ending. I think it’d also work better as like…a short animated clip than a short story. But I like it, and I hope y’all do too

Also, there’s a song by The Amazing Devil that’s been stuck in my head for a good minute now called Secret Worlds…it’s kinda woven throughout this scene.

EDIT: and also one called Farewell Wanderlust, it would seem.

Secret Worlds:

  Reveal hidden contents

The boy could feel it when someone looked over his shoulder. He could tell that someone was reading as he scribbled down word after word. He glanced up furiously at a girl. She grinned, and before he could say a word she grabbed his hand. 

“Come on.” 

He stumbled after her, unsure what else to do. He tried to pull his hand away, but she gripped it tighter, and suddenly they were out the door and into a garden he’d swear he’d never seen before. The girl cocked her head, looking back at him.

“That’s new.”

“What’s new?”

“This.” She winked and gestured out to the flowers and trees. 

He clutched at his notebook. “Who are you?”

“I’m me,” she said, pulling him deeper in. “Come on.”

“Why?” 

“I’m me,” she repeated.

So he followed.

The garden seemed to stretch for an eternity, the boy wrote after. It was every color I’ve ever seen, and a few more too. One of the trees had blossoms, and when I followed her under it they fell, and it looked like snow. The whole world was lost under curtains of white, and all I could hear was laughter. I kept following her, of course I did, and there was so much more. There were flowers brighter than the sun, mountains sharper than knives, grass I wanted to lie on forever…

I don’t have the words to describe it.

But it was a world like nothing I thought existed. 

Just before she left, she said, “Write me well, love.” I don’t know if I can do that.

When she next appeared, it was late. The boy heard a tapping on his window, and looked over to see her face. He blinked, thinking he was dreaming, then stood up and crossed to her. 

“Follow me!” She whispered slyly.

The boy looked longingly back at his warm bed. Then he stepped out the window. On the other side was an unfamiliar street made of stone. Ancient looking houses lined it. When he looked back, his window was fit into a cottage that matched the rest of them. He poked his head back through the window, and he was in his room again. He leaned outside, and he was on a dark street.

“Come on!”

He went. 

There were so many stars. That’s what I noticed most. There were no street lamps, no lights in the distance, and the stars were so bright. It was like someone spilled a bucket of glowing sand across the sky. We walked and she laughed. I know that we talked. I don’t remember what we said.

I know that I asked her name. Right at the start. “What’s your name?” I said.

She looked at me for a long time. It was almost frightening. “The devil knows my name,” she finally said, “so I’d rather you didn’t.”

That was all. I don’t mind. 

Somehow, I don’t think there’s a name that would fit her. 

Her fingers were stained a bright purple as she ate blackberries. He ate them too, from a basket that sat between them on a log. Then, in a moment of strange daring that sent his heart pounding, the boy picked up the basket and scooted into its place. The girl’s eyes filled with delight, and she rested her head on his shoulder. It felt like a challenge. So the boy ran his hand through her hair. 

Today was…

Weird.

I’m not really sure how else to describe it.

She was quiet, subdued. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I wanted to ask if she was okay. I wanted to make it okay. I should have been able to make it okay. It’s—it’s what I do. It’s what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to know what to say. I didn’t. I think she understood, though.

She kind of smiled. It was a really sad smile. “I don’t think I want to laugh today,” she said. “I don’t think I can. Should we see where it takes us?” I nodded. I grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. She squeezed back. Then we opened the door. 

The place on the other side defied any description I can give. We weren’t inside, but we weren’t outside either. The ground wasn’t stone, or sand, or grass. Wood might be the closest comparison, but it wasn’t that either. There was no color. It wasn’t black and white. It wasn’t gray.

It was colorless.

I don’t think it’s possible to explain how terrifying that was.

There was no color. 

She seemed as scared as I was, so I squeezed her hand tighter. 

Then this darkness came out of her. It didn’t have a color either; it was just dark. It soaked her shirt like blood. It dripped out of her and she gasped. That was scarier. I thought I would lose her. But I didn’t. And then the darkness was flooding off of me, too. It was cold. It was endless.

We ran.

That wasn’t something we could have fought or hid from. It was all the nameless things that sleep with us at night, and they’d been brought to life by whatever secret world we’d tried to escape to.

We have so many secret worlds.

I’d just never seen one so cruel.

But there was a comfort in it. She has the darkness too.

I thought I was the only one.

They called the boy weird. They avoided him as best they could. He couldn’t care. In his most lonely moments, he felt her hand in his. He heard her voice in his mind.

“Write me well, love.”

So the boy kept scribbling into a notebook. And each time the girl appeared, he followed her in a heartbeat.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Terrified.”

Trees. I never expected trees, of all things. 

They were so tall. They were curved and wild and utterly free. And they were huge. Magnificent. I couldn’t even see the sky from the bottom. She led me to a tree and I saw that there was a staircase encircling it. So we climbed. We climbed so high. And at the top, there were branches thicker than most trees’ trunks. We walked out on them and the world became green and bright and even more strange. 

It was like we were birds. We jumped from branch to branch, and for once I didn’t worry that I’d fall. Each pool of light was a shard of stained glass. She danced through them, and I laughed. It felt nice to laugh. 

The girl took him to the sea. 

It wasn’t the one of crystalline water and white sand. This beach was a deep gray, nearly black, and the waves were purple, the foam a dazzling lavender. It crashed against the rocks, and the boy shivered. The girl gasped, and ran forward to touch the water.

“Freezing,” she reported. Then she cocked her head. “What’s wrong?”

“What?” The boy frowned. “Why would something be wrong?”

She raised an eyebrow haughtily. “We don’t find these worlds. We make them.”

“We do?”

“We do.” She smiled softly. “And this world feels like a broken heart.”

“So,” the boy said, understanding, “is it mine, or yours?”

They explored that shattered world for a long time. They found sharp cliffs and icy tide pools. They waded into the water, then ran back to shore when it got too cold to stand. They built a fire of driftwood and sat next to it. 

“She told me to smile,” the boy blurted. The girl met his eyes, listening but not interrupting. “She told me to be happy.” He squeezed his eyes shut, taking several ragged breaths. “I don’t think I can.”

“You don’t need to,” the girl said. 

“But I should be,” the boy said miserably. “I have no reason not to.”

“Yes you do,” the girl said. She put her hand over his heart. “That’s your reason. Remember the darkness? It’s in you. And it’s in me. But it isn’t in her, and so she doesn’t understand it.”

“But…” the boy trailed off. “How can I make her understand?”

“I don’t know.”

“I have to make her understand.” The boy made a motion, as if writing. “I’m supposed to make them understand. I’m supposed to be able to write until they see how it is.”

The girl nodded once. “But do you understand it?”

“No.”

“Then maybe,” she said thoughtfully, “you need to understand it first.”

They sat quietly for a long time, staring into the dancing flames. “I don’t want to go back,” the boy finally said.

“Me either.” The girl swallowed. “It’s frightening there.”

“But you’re so brave.”

The girl shook her head. “Not there. It’s easy to be brave when they aren’t around.”

“Oh.” The boy didn’t have the words. He wanted to say something. He wanted to tell her she was the bravest person he’d ever met. He wanted to explain how much he trusted her. He wanted to say he understood. But the words in his mouth were clumsy, not like on paper. None of them seemed to be what he meant. So he put his arm around her shoulder. “Maybe we can stay here for a while.”

“That sounds nice.”

She’s—

I’m—

We

I don’t

I can’t

I don’t have the words.

I don’t have the words. 

I wanted…

I…

Hoped.

I hoped.

She

She let me

Hope.

And now—

No.

I can’t.

I…

I could write it.

I could write it all.

The words would come.

But they wouldn’t

They wouldn’t be right. 

They wouldn’t feel.

They wouldn’t show

That I

Feel.

I know it couldn’t last forever.

I don’t

Know why

I expected it to.

Because now she’s gone, she’s gone, she’s gone she’s gone SHE’S GONE and I

I don’t

There’s

Nothing.

I 

Numb.

I’m numb.

I can’t

Cry

Why can’t I cry?

I keep looking

Outside

And waiting

For her

To

To

To be there.

I can’t

Quite

Comprehend.

I can’t

Believe

That she isn’t

Coming back.

She isn’t

Coming back.

He took her he took her he took her

He took her. 

She told me she warned me

The devil knows my name, she said, the devil knows my name and the devil knew her name, he knew her name and he took her away and she’s gone

She’s

Gone

Because I

Asked

I asked

Why did I ask

I wanted

I thought

We were safe

That whole place

It was so dark. It was so terrible.

It was my

Fault

My fault my fault my fault all my fault my fault

my

fault

She came

“I don’t think we should go today,” she said. We were both hurting so much, and she knew what would happen if we went in. I told her okay, I told her we could stay. We didn’t have to make anything today. And then

I opened

My bedroom

Door

And on the other side

The other side

The other

The other side.

It was

It

It

It was

I can’t write it.

I don’t want to see it.

But

I have to

If 

If I don’t write it

Then they

Won’t know

They won’t know

About her. 

I can’t let myself forget her.

I can’t let them think nothing happened.

I opened the door and it pulled me through. And before I even realized what was happening, she jumped through after me.

She was so brave.

The boy and girl fell into a world of sharp things, cold things, dark things, angry things. Everything in it wanted to destroy them. It tore at their faces and it tore at their hearts. 

“Look at me,” the girl whispered. “Look at me.”

The boy met her eyes. “You don’t have to be scared here,” he whispered.

“And you don’t have to be alone,” she said. He gripped her hand, and she entwined their fingers. “This is our world, remember?”

“Our world,” he repeated. “Our broken hearts, our paradise. Ours.”

“Ours.”

The boy leaned to her, and she pressed her mouth to his for a single, desperate moment. “We don’t need to be scared here,” he repeated.

The world heard them, and it answered them. It calmed. As their hearts stopped pounding, the storm slowed to a gentle fall of rain. The boy looked at the girl, and together they burst into laughter. Soaking wet, filled with adrenaline, they laughed. 

“So,” the girl finally said. 

“So,” the boy repeated. “We. Uh. We’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” the girl said, brushing away a lingering tear. “We…will. We will.”

The boy watched her for a long moment. She watched him back. “What’s your name?” He asked quietly.

She stiffened. “I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t?” The boy asked sadly, “or won’t? Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” the girl said, leaning into him. “More than anyone.”

“I don’t know your name.”

The girl hesitated. She hesitated for a long, long moment. “Okay,” she whispered. “But you can’t use it. You can’t say it, not even once, because he knows my name.”

The boy nodded, and the girl leaned and breathed a single word into his ear. 

It happened before I could stop myself.

I…

I said her name. I repeated it. I wanted to feel it on my tongue, I wanted to hear it spoken out loud.

“Ari,” I said.

And she screamed. 

She sounded so scared, so hurt. She—

She sounded like she must have felt.

Like she knew what I’d done.

Then he was there, a thin figure in a black cloak. He stalked towards her, he reached for her and she hid behind me. I

I was

She

I

She turned to me to protect her. It was my fault it was my fault and she trusted me to protect her

And I froze

I

Froze.

He put his arm around her waist. “I’ve missed you, Ari,” he crooned. And I opened my mouth but I couldn’t speak and she was screaming, screaming, screaming. “It’s okay,” he told her. 

“You don’t need to be afraid here.”

She shouldn’t have needed to be afraid.

It was our world

It was

Ours

But he held her

And the storm

Turned

From rain to thunder and lightning and wind

It came back

So much stronger

Than before. 

The wind whipped at our faces, and just then I saw her darkness

The shadow that lived in her most secret heart

It exploded out

And it

It overcame her

It surrounded her

I reached

I tried

I promise

Ari

I tried

But he reached first.

He ran his hand along her cheek, and darkness trailed from his fingertips like a weapon. He took the pain we’ve been fighting and learned to use it. 

The girl struggled against the grip of the devil. The boy tried to reach her and found himself caught in the storm. 

Then the devil turned, and he met my eyes, and then I was falling out of the world. “Thanks,” he hissed, “for calling me.” 

She watched me. Her eyes were wide and terrified, and I knew her heart was beating too fast. I opened my mouth, but he spoke first, and then I was back in my room.

“It’s too bad you couldn’t protect her.”

I couldn’t

I couldn’t protect her

She’s

She

She

Gone.

She’s gone.

I’m sorry.

I’m so

I’m so 

Sorry.

 

@Cash67 I’m getting emotions too

@Edema Rue This is amazing! You’re a great writer

Edited July 14 by WhyEverNot_8
Forgot something

[Edema Rue she/her]

5 hours ago, WhyEverNot_8 said:

@Cash67 I’m getting emotions too

@Edema Rue This is amazing! You’re a great writer

Aww, thanks so much!!

 

OK GUYS I HAVE LIZ

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS A POSSIBILITY. I’ve been trying to figure out endings. This is one way the story could turn out, if it takes that path. I kind of like it, and I think it could work so long as I do things from Siylna and Ien’s POV’s from time to time. But it’s just a possibility right now.

Still I hope you guys enjoy it  

Spoiler

Liz closed her eyes and felt the floor fall away beneath her. She knew if she opened her eyes, she’d be in the realm of gods, but she didn’t. Instead, she took several careful steps forward, then one to the left. She breathed in, and then there was a wooden floor beneath her feet. She opened her eyes to see her oldest friend trying to conceal a look of surprise. “Si.”

“Lizzy.” Siylna smiled, but to Liz she looked distinctly uncomfortable. Liz’s method of traveling was far from usual.

“It’s been a while,” Liz said coolly. “And I’ve stopped hearing your name.”

Siylna licked her lips. “Lizzy, we need to talk.”

“I know,” Liz said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“No. Not…not like you’re thinking.” Siylna took a breath. “I’m done.”

Around the small cottage, the shadows seemed to darken and grow, just the tiniest bit. Control yourself. “I’m sure,” Liz said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play games with me, Liz.”

Liz glowered. “Explain yourself, then.”

Siylna took a long breath. “I don’t want to throw away my life for this.”

“Throw away your life?” Liz hissed. “That’s the whole reason we’re doing it. ‘I won’t be forgotten,’ remember? Where is your anger, Siylna Beunar?”

“I don’t need it,” Siylna snapped. “Listen to me, Lizzy,” she pleaded. “This—this obsession of yours has to end. You’ve set the stage for so much good, Lizzy, and the world will never know it. Now let it all play out. Sit back and watch.”

“It isn’t me I’m worried about,” Liz said.

“You aren’t listening—”

“Neither are you!” The shadows twisted up the walls, and Siylna glanced at them warily. Liz wasn’t being careful. She couldn’t care less if she accidentally tore the small cottage apart. “You’re giving up, Si.”

“I am,” Siylna said, and strangely enough the thought seemed to calm her. Liz’s lip curled. “I don’t need the world to know my name, Lizzy. Just one person is enough.”

Liz was speechless for longer than she wanted to admit. “You…” her voice sounded weak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “You fell in love.”

Siylna blushed. Liz had never seen her turn so pink, not once. Not like this. “There’s so much more to living than bets and games, Lizzy.”

Liz shook her head, dazed. “You turned into one of them.”

“I grew up,” Siylna countered. “Don’t tell me you’re still a child.”

“I’m not a child,” Liz snapped, crossing her arms. “And giving up doesn’t make you any wiser than me, just weaker.”

Siylna took another breath, visibly calming herself. “Lizzy, I know your heart is hurting. I know this world has done such terrible things to you. But anger isn’t the answer—”

“You were an acolyte of Fury!” Liz screamed. “Don’t talk to me about anger. You lost your fire.”

“I let it go,” Siylna said deliberately. “I don’t need a wildfire, I need a hearth. Please, Lizzy, just listen to me. I know how you feel, I swear I do. Better than anyone. I wanted to break this world. I wanted my name burned into the corpses of everyone who had ever hurt me. But I can promise you now, it won’t help.”

“Why’d you stop?” Liz spat. She looked away, gritting her teeth and trying to keep from trembling. “Why’d you stop?”

“I never would have if not for you,” Siylna said, smiling. She looked so kind in that moment. So warm, so welcome, so motherly. Liz wanted to hit her, to stab her, to hurt her until she remembered to be who she was. “We aren’t who we were,” Siylna said, as if reading Liz’s mind. “I’m so sorry you had to become this, Lizzy, but it isn’t too late to change. I did. It’s never too late.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because no one else will.” Siylna reached forward, grasping Liz’s fingers. Her hands were icy cold. Liz stiffened, eyes widening, but she didn’t pull away. “No one else can. I know you don’t see it. I know you spend all your time in that prison. But Ien did it, Liz. He did what we always dreamed of.” Siylna’s eyes glittered wetly. “He fixed it. And now I don’t need to, and you can rest.”

“But the bet—”

“It’s not about the bet, Liz!” Siylna shook her head. “It was never about the bet.”

“Yes it was,” Liz insisted. “I gave up everything for this bet. I gave up my education, I gave up Ien, I’ve given up my entire life. Any hope I had of a future. And I did it to win.”

Siylna shook her head again. “No, Liz. Maybe it started that way. It did for me. Winning was so important then. But then we started changing things, and all of a sudden it’s become so much more.”

“No.” Liz shook her head frantically, pulling her hands free. “No. It can’t be. It isn’t over. There’s so much more to do.”

“Maybe,” Siylna said gently. “But you don’t have to be the one to do it. You’re allowed to rest, Liz.”

“No,” Liz said again. Her eyes were wide, and the shadows were twisting so wildly that the whole room shook. “No. I won’t let him forget me. I won’t be weak. I need to win.” She clenched her fists, trying to keep her hands from shaking. “I need to win.”

“Lizzy,” Siylna said, impossibly gentle, “you still love Ien, don’t you?”

“Assassins don’t love,” Liz growled. “I broke him. My plan worked. It worked.” Her eyes turned wild, the shadows reflecting into them. “I made him a hero. He hates me, but that doesn’t matter. It worked.” She laughed suddenly, high pitched and free. “It worked.”

“Liz,” Siylna said, and her voice cut through the madness like a sharp dagger through flesh. Liz blinked, and the shadows receded. 

“You see it,” Liz said quietly. “I can never rest, Siylna, for I’ve lost my mind. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is,” Siylna admitted, and Liz almost thought she heard a note of jealousy. “But it’s dangerous, Lizzy.”

“I’m dangerous,” Liz said, and she felt herself smiling. “I could kill you now. I could kill you so easily.”

“Why haven’t you killed me, then?” Liz didn’t answer. “Liz,” Siylna said, and Liz blinked, forcing the fuzz from her mind. 

“That’s cheating,” she said. “I want to beat you. I don’t want you dead.”

“Lizzy,” Siylna said quietly, “I want to thank you. For all of it. Arania couldn’t have become what it is without you.”

“Why are you thanking me?” Liz laughed, and suddenly her eyes stung. She hated them for doing that. She hated her heart for feeling. She hated her hands for trembling. She hated Siylna for twisting her strings, like she was little more than a  puppet dancing to a tune she’d never hear.

“Because no one else will,” Siylna said sadly. They sat in silence for a long moment. “I’ll miss you, Lizzy. I already miss you.”

Liz cocked her head, suddenly feeling her heart pounding. “What are you talking about?”

Slowly, achingly slowly, Siylna pulled a dagger from her sleeve. “If you live, you’ll only keep pushing. You’ll ruin it all.”

“You can’t kill me,” Liz said, sending her chair clattering to the floor as she stood. “Ien’s been trying for a year.”

“I know he has,” Siylna said. “Are you ready to become a goddess, Lizzy?” She stood as she spoke, crossing the room until she was standing in front of her old friend.

“You can’t kill me,” Liz said again. “This is nonsense.”

“Enjoy their world, okay Liz?” Siylna smiled, but her eyes were still and wet and deep as the sea. “I’ll see you when my time comes.”

Liz started laughing as Siylna pressed the dagger to her throat. “You can’t kill me,” she said between giggles. “You can’t kill me.” She felt her blood beginning to drip onto her collar. She met Siylna’s eyes only to see her friend was crying. 

That gaze filled her mind as she sank to the floor. “You can’t…” she coughed wetly. “You can’t…kill…me.”

“Goodbye, Lizzy,” Siylna whispered, but Liz only barely heard the voice. The world had gone black, and she couldn't move. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even feel her own body. All sound faded, and for a terrifying moment of silence, Liz understood. This was what it felt like to die. This was what eternity felt like.

Then the silence was broken by two icy, damning words.

“Hello, Heiress.”

 

[RoyalBeeMage he/him]

On 7/15/2024 at 10:06 AM, Edema Rue said:

Aww, thanks so much!!

 

OK GUYS I HAVE LIZ

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS A POSSIBILITY. I’ve been trying to figure out endings. This is one way the story could turn out, if it takes that path. I kind of like it, and I think it could work so long as I do things from Siylna and Ien’s POV’s from time to time. But it’s just a possibility right now.

Still I hope you guys enjoy it  

  Hide contents

Liz closed her eyes and felt the floor fall away beneath her. She knew if she opened her eyes, she’d be in the realm of gods, but she didn’t. Instead, she took several careful steps forward, then one to the left. She breathed in, and then there was a wooden floor beneath her feet. She opened her eyes to see her oldest friend trying to conceal a look of surprise. “Si.”

“Lizzy.” Siylna smiled, but to Liz she looked distinctly uncomfortable. Liz’s method of traveling was far from usual.

“It’s been a while,” Liz said coolly. “And I’ve stopped hearing your name.”

Siylna licked her lips. “Lizzy, we need to talk.”

“I know,” Liz said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“No. Not…not like you’re thinking.” Siylna took a breath. “I’m done.”

Around the small cottage, the shadows seemed to darken and grow, just the tiniest bit. Control yourself. “I’m sure,” Liz said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play games with me, Liz.”

Liz glowered. “Explain yourself, then.”

Siylna took a long breath. “I don’t want to throw away my life for this.”

“Throw away your life?” Liz hissed. “That’s the whole reason we’re doing it. ‘I won’t be forgotten,’ remember? Where is your anger, Siylna Beunar?”

“I don’t need it,” Siylna snapped. “Listen to me, Lizzy,” she pleaded. “This—this obsession of yours has to end. You’ve set the stage for so much good, Lizzy, and the world will never know it. Now let it all play out. Sit back and watch.”

“It isn’t me I’m worried about,” Liz said.

“You aren’t listening—”

“Neither are you!” The shadows twisted up the walls, and Siylna glanced at them warily. Liz wasn’t being careful. She couldn’t care less if she accidentally tore the small cottage apart. “You’re giving up, Si.”

“I am,” Siylna said, and strangely enough the thought seemed to calm her. Liz’s lip curled. “I don’t need the world to know my name, Lizzy. Just one person is enough.”

Liz was speechless for longer than she wanted to admit. “You…” her voice sounded weak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “You fell in love.”

Siylna blushed. Liz had never seen her turn so pink, not once. Not like this. “There’s so much more to living than bets and games, Lizzy.”

Liz shook her head, dazed. “You turned into one of them.”

“I grew up,” Siylna countered. “Don’t tell me you’re still a child.”

“I’m not a child,” Liz snapped, crossing her arms. “And giving up doesn’t make you any wiser than me, just weaker.”

Siylna took another breath, visibly calming herself. “Lizzy, I know your heart is hurting. I know this world has done such terrible things to you. But anger isn’t the answer—”

“You were an acolyte of Fury!” Liz screamed. “Don’t talk to me about anger. You lost your fire.”

“I let it go,” Siylna said deliberately. “I don’t need a wildfire, I need a hearth. Please, Lizzy, just listen to me. I know how you feel, I swear I do. Better than anyone. I wanted to break this world. I wanted my name burned into the corpses of everyone who had ever hurt me. But I can promise you now, it won’t help.”

“Why’d you stop?” Liz spat. She looked away, gritting her teeth and trying to keep from trembling. “Why’d you stop?”

“I never would have if not for you,” Siylna said, smiling. She looked so kind in that moment. So warm, so welcome, so motherly. Liz wanted to hit her, to stab her, to hurt her until she remembered to be who she was. “We aren’t who we were,” Siylna said, as if reading Liz’s mind. “I’m so sorry you had to become this, Lizzy, but it isn’t too late to change. I did. It’s never too late.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because no one else will.” Siylna reached forward, grasping Liz’s fingers. Her hands were icy cold. Liz stiffened, eyes widening, but she didn’t pull away. “No one else can. I know you don’t see it. I know you spend all your time in that prison. But Ien did it, Liz. He did what we always dreamed of.” Siylna’s eyes glittered wetly. “He fixed it. And now I don’t need to, and you can rest.”

“But the bet—”

“It’s not about the bet, Liz!” Siylna shook her head. “It was never about the bet.”

“Yes it was,” Liz insisted. “I gave up everything for this bet. I gave up my education, I gave up Ien, I’ve given up my entire life. Any hope I had of a future. And I did it to win.”

Siylna shook her head again. “No, Liz. Maybe it started that way. It did for me. Winning was so important then. But then we started changing things, and all of a sudden it’s become so much more.”

“No.” Liz shook her head frantically, pulling her hands free. “No. It can’t be. It isn’t over. There’s so much more to do.”

“Maybe,” Siylna said gently. “But you don’t have to be the one to do it. You’re allowed to rest, Liz.”

“No,” Liz said again. Her eyes were wide, and the shadows were twisting so wildly that the whole room shook. “No. I won’t let him forget me. I won’t be weak. I need to win.” She clenched her fists, trying to keep her hands from shaking. “I need to win.”

“Lizzy,” Siylna said, impossibly gentle, “you still love Ien, don’t you?”

“Assassins don’t love,” Liz growled. “I broke him. My plan worked. It worked.” Her eyes turned wild, the shadows reflecting into them. “I made him a hero. He hates me, but that doesn’t matter. It worked.” She laughed suddenly, high pitched and free. “It worked.”

“Liz,” Siylna said, and her voice cut through the madness like a sharp dagger through flesh. Liz blinked, and the shadows receded. 

“You see it,” Liz said quietly. “I can never rest, Siylna, for I’ve lost my mind. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is,” Siylna admitted, and Liz almost thought she heard a note of jealousy. “But it’s dangerous, Lizzy.”

“I’m dangerous,” Liz said, and she felt herself smiling. “I could kill you now. I could kill you so easily.”

“Why haven’t you killed me, then?” Liz didn’t answer. “Liz,” Siylna said, and Liz blinked, forcing the fuzz from her mind. 

“That’s cheating,” she said. “I want to beat you. I don’t want you dead.”

“Lizzy,” Siylna said quietly, “I want to thank you. For all of it. Arania couldn’t have become what it is without you.”

“Why are you thanking me?” Liz laughed, and suddenly her eyes stung. She hated them for doing that. She hated her heart for feeling. She hated her hands for trembling. She hated Siylna for twisting her strings, like she was little more than a  puppet dancing to a tune she’d never hear.

“Because no one else will,” Siylna said sadly. They sat in silence for a long moment. “I’ll miss you, Lizzy. I already miss you.”

Liz cocked her head, suddenly feeling her heart pounding. “What are you talking about?”

Slowly, achingly slowly, Siylna pulled a dagger from her sleeve. “If you live, you’ll only keep pushing. You’ll ruin it all.”

“You can’t kill me,” Liz said, sending her chair clattering to the floor as she stood. “Ien’s been trying for a year.”

“I know he has,” Siylna said. “Are you ready to become a goddess, Lizzy?” She stood as she spoke, crossing the room until she was standing in front of her old friend.

“You can’t kill me,” Liz said again. “This is nonsense.”

“Enjoy their world, okay Liz?” Siylna smiled, but her eyes were still and wet and deep as the sea. “I’ll see you when my time comes.”

Liz started laughing as Siylna pressed the dagger to her throat. “You can’t kill me,” she said between giggles. “You can’t kill me.” She felt her blood beginning to drip onto her collar. She met Siylna’s eyes only to see her friend was crying. 

That gaze filled her mind as she sank to the floor. “You can’t…” she coughed wetly. “You can’t…kill…me.”

“Goodbye, Lizzy,” Siylna whispered, but Liz only barely heard the voice. The world had gone black, and she couldn't move. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even feel her own body. All sound faded, and for a terrifying moment of silence, Liz understood. This was what it felt like to die. This was what eternity felt like.

Then the silence was broken by two icy, damning words.

“Hello, Heiress.”

 

Eddie! Why must you do this to me? This is so good yet sad. I love it. 

[Weaver of Lies he/him]

On 7/14/2024 at 8:06 PM, Edema Rue said:

Aww, thanks so much!!

 

OK GUYS I HAVE LIZ

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS A POSSIBILITY. I’ve been trying to figure out endings. This is one way the story could turn out, if it takes that path. I kind of like it, and I think it could work so long as I do things from Siylna and Ien’s POV’s from time to time. But it’s just a possibility right now.

Still I hope you guys enjoy it  

  Hide contents

Liz closed her eyes and felt the floor fall away beneath her. She knew if she opened her eyes, she’d be in the realm of gods, but she didn’t. Instead, she took several careful steps forward, then one to the left. She breathed in, and then there was a wooden floor beneath her feet. She opened her eyes to see her oldest friend trying to conceal a look of surprise. “Si.”

“Lizzy.” Siylna smiled, but to Liz she looked distinctly uncomfortable. Liz’s method of traveling was far from usual.

“It’s been a while,” Liz said coolly. “And I’ve stopped hearing your name.”

Siylna licked her lips. “Lizzy, we need to talk.”

“I know,” Liz said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“No. Not…not like you’re thinking.” Siylna took a breath. “I’m done.”

Around the small cottage, the shadows seemed to darken and grow, just the tiniest bit. Control yourself. “I’m sure,” Liz said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play games with me, Liz.”

Liz glowered. “Explain yourself, then.”

Siylna took a long breath. “I don’t want to throw away my life for this.”

“Throw away your life?” Liz hissed. “That’s the whole reason we’re doing it. ‘I won’t be forgotten,’ remember? Where is your anger, Siylna Beunar?”

“I don’t need it,” Siylna snapped. “Listen to me, Lizzy,” she pleaded. “This—this obsession of yours has to end. You’ve set the stage for so much good, Lizzy, and the world will never know it. Now let it all play out. Sit back and watch.”

“It isn’t me I’m worried about,” Liz said.

“You aren’t listening—”

“Neither are you!” The shadows twisted up the walls, and Siylna glanced at them warily. Liz wasn’t being careful. She couldn’t care less if she accidentally tore the small cottage apart. “You’re giving up, Si.”

“I am,” Siylna said, and strangely enough the thought seemed to calm her. Liz’s lip curled. “I don’t need the world to know my name, Lizzy. Just one person is enough.”

Liz was speechless for longer than she wanted to admit. “You…” her voice sounded weak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “You fell in love.”

Siylna blushed. Liz had never seen her turn so pink, not once. Not like this. “There’s so much more to living than bets and games, Lizzy.”

Liz shook her head, dazed. “You turned into one of them.”

“I grew up,” Siylna countered. “Don’t tell me you’re still a child.”

“I’m not a child,” Liz snapped, crossing her arms. “And giving up doesn’t make you any wiser than me, just weaker.”

Siylna took another breath, visibly calming herself. “Lizzy, I know your heart is hurting. I know this world has done such terrible things to you. But anger isn’t the answer—”

“You were an acolyte of Fury!” Liz screamed. “Don’t talk to me about anger. You lost your fire.”

“I let it go,” Siylna said deliberately. “I don’t need a wildfire, I need a hearth. Please, Lizzy, just listen to me. I know how you feel, I swear I do. Better than anyone. I wanted to break this world. I wanted my name burned into the corpses of everyone who had ever hurt me. But I can promise you now, it won’t help.”

“Why’d you stop?” Liz spat. She looked away, gritting her teeth and trying to keep from trembling. “Why’d you stop?”

“I never would have if not for you,” Siylna said, smiling. She looked so kind in that moment. So warm, so welcome, so motherly. Liz wanted to hit her, to stab her, to hurt her until she remembered to be who she was. “We aren’t who we were,” Siylna said, as if reading Liz’s mind. “I’m so sorry you had to become this, Lizzy, but it isn’t too late to change. I did. It’s never too late.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because no one else will.” Siylna reached forward, grasping Liz’s fingers. Her hands were icy cold. Liz stiffened, eyes widening, but she didn’t pull away. “No one else can. I know you don’t see it. I know you spend all your time in that prison. But Ien did it, Liz. He did what we always dreamed of.” Siylna’s eyes glittered wetly. “He fixed it. And now I don’t need to, and you can rest.”

“But the bet—”

“It’s not about the bet, Liz!” Siylna shook her head. “It was never about the bet.”

“Yes it was,” Liz insisted. “I gave up everything for this bet. I gave up my education, I gave up Ien, I’ve given up my entire life. Any hope I had of a future. And I did it to win.”

Siylna shook her head again. “No, Liz. Maybe it started that way. It did for me. Winning was so important then. But then we started changing things, and all of a sudden it’s become so much more.”

“No.” Liz shook her head frantically, pulling her hands free. “No. It can’t be. It isn’t over. There’s so much more to do.”

“Maybe,” Siylna said gently. “But you don’t have to be the one to do it. You’re allowed to rest, Liz.”

“No,” Liz said again. Her eyes were wide, and the shadows were twisting so wildly that the whole room shook. “No. I won’t let him forget me. I won’t be weak. I need to win.” She clenched her fists, trying to keep her hands from shaking. “I need to win.”

“Lizzy,” Siylna said, impossibly gentle, “you still love Ien, don’t you?”

“Assassins don’t love,” Liz growled. “I broke him. My plan worked. It worked.” Her eyes turned wild, the shadows reflecting into them. “I made him a hero. He hates me, but that doesn’t matter. It worked.” She laughed suddenly, high pitched and free. “It worked.”

“Liz,” Siylna said, and her voice cut through the madness like a sharp dagger through flesh. Liz blinked, and the shadows receded. 

“You see it,” Liz said quietly. “I can never rest, Siylna, for I’ve lost my mind. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is,” Siylna admitted, and Liz almost thought she heard a note of jealousy. “But it’s dangerous, Lizzy.”

“I’m dangerous,” Liz said, and she felt herself smiling. “I could kill you now. I could kill you so easily.”

“Why haven’t you killed me, then?” Liz didn’t answer. “Liz,” Siylna said, and Liz blinked, forcing the fuzz from her mind. 

“That’s cheating,” she said. “I want to beat you. I don’t want you dead.”

“Lizzy,” Siylna said quietly, “I want to thank you. For all of it. Arania couldn’t have become what it is without you.”

“Why are you thanking me?” Liz laughed, and suddenly her eyes stung. She hated them for doing that. She hated her heart for feeling. She hated her hands for trembling. She hated Siylna for twisting her strings, like she was little more than a  puppet dancing to a tune she’d never hear.

“Because no one else will,” Siylna said sadly. They sat in silence for a long moment. “I’ll miss you, Lizzy. I already miss you.”

Liz cocked her head, suddenly feeling her heart pounding. “What are you talking about?”

Slowly, achingly slowly, Siylna pulled a dagger from her sleeve. “If you live, you’ll only keep pushing. You’ll ruin it all.”

“You can’t kill me,” Liz said, sending her chair clattering to the floor as she stood. “Ien’s been trying for a year.”

“I know he has,” Siylna said. “Are you ready to become a goddess, Lizzy?” She stood as she spoke, crossing the room until she was standing in front of her old friend.

“You can’t kill me,” Liz said again. “This is nonsense.”

“Enjoy their world, okay Liz?” Siylna smiled, but her eyes were still and wet and deep as the sea. “I’ll see you when my time comes.”

Liz started laughing as Siylna pressed the dagger to her throat. “You can’t kill me,” she said between giggles. “You can’t kill me.” She felt her blood beginning to drip onto her collar. She met Siylna’s eyes only to see her friend was crying. 

That gaze filled her mind as she sank to the floor. “You can’t…” she coughed wetly. “You can’t…kill…me.”

“Goodbye, Lizzy,” Siylna whispered, but Liz only barely heard the voice. The world had gone black, and she couldn't move. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even feel her own body. All sound faded, and for a terrifying moment of silence, Liz understood. This was what it felt like to die. This was what eternity felt like.

Then the silence was broken by two icy, damning words.

“Hello, Heiress.”

 

INCREDIBLE!!!

[Just a Silvereye he/him]

On 7/15/2024 at 4:06 AM, Edema Rue said:

Aww, thanks so much!!

 

OK GUYS I HAVE LIZ

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS A POSSIBILITY. I’ve been trying to figure out endings. This is one way the story could turn out, if it takes that path. I kind of like it, and I think it could work so long as I do things from Siylna and Ien’s POV’s from time to time. But it’s just a possibility right now.

Still I hope you guys enjoy it  

  Reveal hidden contents

Liz closed her eyes and felt the floor fall away beneath her. She knew if she opened her eyes, she’d be in the realm of gods, but she didn’t. Instead, she took several careful steps forward, then one to the left. She breathed in, and then there was a wooden floor beneath her feet. She opened her eyes to see her oldest friend trying to conceal a look of surprise. “Si.”

“Lizzy.” Siylna smiled, but to Liz she looked distinctly uncomfortable. Liz’s method of traveling was far from usual.

“It’s been a while,” Liz said coolly. “And I’ve stopped hearing your name.”

Siylna licked her lips. “Lizzy, we need to talk.”

“I know,” Liz said. “That’s why I’m here.”

“No. Not…not like you’re thinking.” Siylna took a breath. “I’m done.”

Around the small cottage, the shadows seemed to darken and grow, just the tiniest bit. Control yourself. “I’m sure,” Liz said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play games with me, Liz.”

Liz glowered. “Explain yourself, then.”

Siylna took a long breath. “I don’t want to throw away my life for this.”

“Throw away your life?” Liz hissed. “That’s the whole reason we’re doing it. ‘I won’t be forgotten,’ remember? Where is your anger, Siylna Beunar?”

“I don’t need it,” Siylna snapped. “Listen to me, Lizzy,” she pleaded. “This—this obsession of yours has to end. You’ve set the stage for so much good, Lizzy, and the world will never know it. Now let it all play out. Sit back and watch.”

“It isn’t me I’m worried about,” Liz said.

“You aren’t listening—”

“Neither are you!” The shadows twisted up the walls, and Siylna glanced at them warily. Liz wasn’t being careful. She couldn’t care less if she accidentally tore the small cottage apart. “You’re giving up, Si.”

“I am,” Siylna said, and strangely enough the thought seemed to calm her. Liz’s lip curled. “I don’t need the world to know my name, Lizzy. Just one person is enough.”

Liz was speechless for longer than she wanted to admit. “You…” her voice sounded weak. She cleared her throat and tried again. “You fell in love.”

Siylna blushed. Liz had never seen her turn so pink, not once. Not like this. “There’s so much more to living than bets and games, Lizzy.”

Liz shook her head, dazed. “You turned into one of them.”

“I grew up,” Siylna countered. “Don’t tell me you’re still a child.”

“I’m not a child,” Liz snapped, crossing her arms. “And giving up doesn’t make you any wiser than me, just weaker.”

Siylna took another breath, visibly calming herself. “Lizzy, I know your heart is hurting. I know this world has done such terrible things to you. But anger isn’t the answer—”

“You were an acolyte of Fury!” Liz screamed. “Don’t talk to me about anger. You lost your fire.”

“I let it go,” Siylna said deliberately. “I don’t need a wildfire, I need a hearth. Please, Lizzy, just listen to me. I know how you feel, I swear I do. Better than anyone. I wanted to break this world. I wanted my name burned into the corpses of everyone who had ever hurt me. But I can promise you now, it won’t help.”

“Why’d you stop?” Liz spat. She looked away, gritting her teeth and trying to keep from trembling. “Why’d you stop?”

“I never would have if not for you,” Siylna said, smiling. She looked so kind in that moment. So warm, so welcome, so motherly. Liz wanted to hit her, to stab her, to hurt her until she remembered to be who she was. “We aren’t who we were,” Siylna said, as if reading Liz’s mind. “I’m so sorry you had to become this, Lizzy, but it isn’t too late to change. I did. It’s never too late.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because no one else will.” Siylna reached forward, grasping Liz’s fingers. Her hands were icy cold. Liz stiffened, eyes widening, but she didn’t pull away. “No one else can. I know you don’t see it. I know you spend all your time in that prison. But Ien did it, Liz. He did what we always dreamed of.” Siylna’s eyes glittered wetly. “He fixed it. And now I don’t need to, and you can rest.”

“But the bet—”

“It’s not about the bet, Liz!” Siylna shook her head. “It was never about the bet.”

“Yes it was,” Liz insisted. “I gave up everything for this bet. I gave up my education, I gave up Ien, I’ve given up my entire life. Any hope I had of a future. And I did it to win.”

Siylna shook her head again. “No, Liz. Maybe it started that way. It did for me. Winning was so important then. But then we started changing things, and all of a sudden it’s become so much more.”

“No.” Liz shook her head frantically, pulling her hands free. “No. It can’t be. It isn’t over. There’s so much more to do.”

“Maybe,” Siylna said gently. “But you don’t have to be the one to do it. You’re allowed to rest, Liz.”

“No,” Liz said again. Her eyes were wide, and the shadows were twisting so wildly that the whole room shook. “No. I won’t let him forget me. I won’t be weak. I need to win.” She clenched her fists, trying to keep her hands from shaking. “I need to win.”

“Lizzy,” Siylna said, impossibly gentle, “you still love Ien, don’t you?”

“Assassins don’t love,” Liz growled. “I broke him. My plan worked. It worked.” Her eyes turned wild, the shadows reflecting into them. “I made him a hero. He hates me, but that doesn’t matter. It worked.” She laughed suddenly, high pitched and free. “It worked.”

“Liz,” Siylna said, and her voice cut through the madness like a sharp dagger through flesh. Liz blinked, and the shadows receded. 

“You see it,” Liz said quietly. “I can never rest, Siylna, for I’ve lost my mind. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It is,” Siylna admitted, and Liz almost thought she heard a note of jealousy. “But it’s dangerous, Lizzy.”

“I’m dangerous,” Liz said, and she felt herself smiling. “I could kill you now. I could kill you so easily.”

“Why haven’t you killed me, then?” Liz didn’t answer. “Liz,” Siylna said, and Liz blinked, forcing the fuzz from her mind. 

“That’s cheating,” she said. “I want to beat you. I don’t want you dead.”

“Lizzy,” Siylna said quietly, “I want to thank you. For all of it. Arania couldn’t have become what it is without you.”

“Why are you thanking me?” Liz laughed, and suddenly her eyes stung. She hated them for doing that. She hated her heart for feeling. She hated her hands for trembling. She hated Siylna for twisting her strings, like she was little more than a  puppet dancing to a tune she’d never hear.

“Because no one else will,” Siylna said sadly. They sat in silence for a long moment. “I’ll miss you, Lizzy. I already miss you.”

Liz cocked her head, suddenly feeling her heart pounding. “What are you talking about?”

Slowly, achingly slowly, Siylna pulled a dagger from her sleeve. “If you live, you’ll only keep pushing. You’ll ruin it all.”

“You can’t kill me,” Liz said, sending her chair clattering to the floor as she stood. “Ien’s been trying for a year.”

“I know he has,” Siylna said. “Are you ready to become a goddess, Lizzy?” She stood as she spoke, crossing the room until she was standing in front of her old friend.

“You can’t kill me,” Liz said again. “This is nonsense.”

“Enjoy their world, okay Liz?” Siylna smiled, but her eyes were still and wet and deep as the sea. “I’ll see you when my time comes.”

Liz started laughing as Siylna pressed the dagger to her throat. “You can’t kill me,” she said between giggles. “You can’t kill me.” She felt her blood beginning to drip onto her collar. She met Siylna’s eyes only to see her friend was crying. 

That gaze filled her mind as she sank to the floor. “You can’t…” she coughed wetly. “You can’t…kill…me.”

“Goodbye, Lizzy,” Siylna whispered, but Liz only barely heard the voice. The world had gone black, and she couldn't move. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even feel her own body. All sound faded, and for a terrifying moment of silence, Liz understood. This was what it felt like to die. This was what eternity felt like.

Then the silence was broken by two icy, damning words.

“Hello, Heiress.”

 

Wow, this could work out really well.

[Edema Rue she/her]

On 9/30/2023 at 9:51 PM, Edema Rue said:

HmmmMMMMMmmmm it's been a bit since I was here, I haven't been doing a ton of my own writing recently. Here's something I started, the idea was that I wanted to write a villain who wasn't bitter, who wasn't angry, and who genuinely cares about other people. Not sure it'll go anywhere, but it's fun to try! Here's what would be the Prologue, I'll probably write a few chapters and we'll see where it goes! As usual, all feedback is more than welcome!!

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The boy was thrust into a cell, neither harshly nor gently. He stood up, dusted himself off, eyed the bars surrounding him. The dungeon was dim, with only a single torch burning in the far corner. He sighed and sat down, pressing his  back to the cold stone and wishing, not for the first time, that he had chosen a different path. Or, at the very least, that he wasn’t so incompetent. It would’ve been nice to do something more with life than be tossed in a cell until they got tired of feeding him, but it was too late to do anything different now. It was a harsh world outside, one that wouldn’t forgive easily. Or ever. 

As his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized that all of the other cells were empty. Probably. Several were too dark to see inside, but…he snapped his gaze to the side as he caught a flicker of movement. There was nothing there. He was jumping at shadows. The boy let out a wry chuckle. He was alone, again, and probably forever. The chuckle faded into sobs, and he sat there for a long time, it was impossible to tell how long exactly in the unending darkness. Eventually he calmed down, and almost immediately after he had, a feminine voice spoke. He heard it with his ears, but it seemed to vibrate deep in his mind, too.

“Are you all right?”

The boy gasped and shot to his feet, looking around and seeing no one. “Who’s there?”

“Oh, my,” the voice said, sounding flustered. “I’m so sorry, where are my manners? My name is Liz.”

The boy backed as far to the edge of his cell as he could. “Where are you? What are you?”

“I’m here, in the corner,” Liz said from deep in the shadows. Her voice had a soothing effect, even though it still seemed to sound mostly in the boy’s mind. “I’m a prisoner, like you. And now I have answered your questions, and so I ask again, are you all right?”

The boy glowered at the corner, furious at having been caught in his moment of weakness. “I’m fine. What do you want?”

“Oh. You didn’t look fine a moment ago. If there’s anything I can do, please tell me. I’m terribly sorry for bothering you, it’s just that I’ve been alone here for some time now and I was interested to see a new face.” Liz sounded hurt, almost, and the boy suddenly felt terrible. He had been sad to be alone, and then someone friendly, someone more caring than even his own parents, had come along, and the first thing he had done was yell at her. He shoved down the feelings.

“You’re lying,” he declared. “Tell me what you really want.”

“Oh,” Liz said sadly. How, the boy wondered, could she sound so small and sad while somehow speaking directly into his mind? And then she cheered, just a little bit. “Oh! I see what you need! I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out, I haven’t been around other people in a while, and I seem to have lost some understanding.” And then, inexplicably, she hardened. Cooled. In less than a heartbeat, she went from caring and understanding to harsh and unyielding. It was, simply put, terrifying, and the boy would have cried out if he weren’t so afraid that she’d attack. “Why did you get caught, weak child? What made you think you were strong enough to be a villain? No, no, not to worry, not to worry. I’ve been needing a new minion, and you will do very nicely. So, will you serve, or should I end you now?” 

Oddly enough, the boy felt calmer now. This was what he expected from someone in the darkest parts of the King’s dungeons, the parts where they left only those who were too vile to kill. Or, apparently, where they sent foolish children to scare them into an honest life. Was this Liz doing it on purpose? She had to be, but...she sounded so genuine. “I’m not here to serve you!” He said, trying to sound tougher than he felt. “And you got caught too!”

Liz giggled, and the sound echoed through the dungeon. “Sometimes,” she said, “it works to your advantage to be caught. To let your legend grow.”

The boy sat down with a sigh. “I don’t have a legend. Just myself.”

“Not everyone needs a legend,” she said, and the hardness was gone so quickly it was hard to imagine it had ever even been there. “And every act can only last so long.But everyone needs a name. Do you have one, child?”

“Why should I trust you?” He asked petulantly. “You haven’t even shown me your face.”

Liz sighed. “It’s true. I haven’t given you a reason to trust me, and for that I am sorry. But you do need a name, silly. If you don’t want to tell me yours, just make one up. It isn’t hard, and I need to call you something.”

The boy blinked. “I…sure. Why not. Call me Lon.” And even though the boy—Lon—couldn’t see her, he could almost feel Liz’s warm smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lon. I’m terribly sorry you’re down here. Would you like to talk?” Lon froze, unsure what to say. “You don’t have to,” Liz said quickly. “Some people would rather have someone listen to their story, it helps them heal, and so I listen, but I’m just here to help you. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Lon sar for a moment, and then he chuckled. It turned into a laugh, and kept going until he felt tears of mirth, yes that’s what they were, mirth, running down his cheeks. “What,” he finally said, “are you? One second you sound like an old village healer, and the next you’re a murderer. Why on earth should I trust that? You’re-you’re insane.”

Liz was quiet for a long moment. “I know. I’m sure I am; lots of people have told me, and I know that sane people don’t live like I do, don't think like I do. But I don’t think I’m hurting anyone too badly, despite all that. I never end lives, only…change them.” Her voice was quiet, musing. “And no, no, you have no reason to trust me, not here, not now, not anytime or anywhere. But,” she said, her voice sharp, “I trust you.” 

Lon froze. Her words had been magically projected before, the way they seemed to come straight into his mind, but now his doubts were gone. Her words seemed to burn into his very spirit, spreading warmth and light into parts of his soul he hadn’t even known existed. And with them came a trust so strong, so powerful it made him think of the way a small child looks at their parents. I trust you. Why? Why, stars above, did this Liz, this clearly powerful sorceress, trust him? “Prove it,” he said, even as the burning words filled him. “Tell me your story. Show me your face.”

“I can do that,” Liz said, calmly, steadily, “and if you want me to, I will. But it’s a long story, a painful story, and once I start I’m not going to stop. I could shorten it, but I’m not going to, for that would be worse than never telling it at all. So, are you sure this is what you want, dear child?”

Lon blinked, suddenly remembering where they were. He didn’t belong in the darkest parts of the king’s dungeon, that was certain, but this Liz? The darkness was her home and her mantle. He briefly wondered if her story wasn’t something he wanted to hear, but he suddenly found he did. He really, really did. “Tell me.”

“Are you sure?” Liz repeated. Something in her voice had changed, and he looked up to see, emerging from the corner furthest from the torch, a shape. She was small, barely 5 feet tall, and her smooth black hair fell past her waist. Then the flickering light caught on her face, and Lon gasped.

“L--Lady of Darkness,” he croaked.

Liz gave him a small smile. “I’ve been called that. I’m sorry I didn’t show you my face before. I don’t mean to be deceptive, or to hide, but…well. I can help more people if they don’t know who I am. But you asked, and I believe that this is what you need.” Lon still hadn’t spoken. Liz sighed. “What reassurance would you like, dear boy? I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to hurt anyone for another few months, and then I’ll leave here and continue my work. And people will be hurt by it, by me, but they will grow because of it.”

Lon blinked. “You’re a legend. I…everyone thinks you’re dead.”

“Oops,” Liz said. “Sorry to prove you wrong.” She sounded genuinely sorry. What a bizarre woman.

“No, no, it’s…nevermind. I don’t care who you are.” Lon was surprised to find it was true. It shouldn’t be true. Why was it true?  This woman was a monster, a legend, a nightmare. And she was sitting right in front of him, asking if he was okay. He suddenly found that he wanted to know her, wanted to see a piece of the mind that was…well, that was the Lady of Darkness. “Will you…will you tell me your story?” He asked, throat suddenly dry. 

  Liz smiled at him, her kind, dark eyes staring deep into his own. “I see you, boy. I know you. And if you want to hear it, I’ll tell you, because stars above, it gets boring down here really fast.” Then she gave him a small smile. "Besides," she added, "you seem a good sort. I hope we can become dear friends."

 

*coughs* guys I just realized this is the first Liz thing I ever wrote...it's on page 2 of this thread...and it's changed so much and grown so much from a silly little idea...time is so weird

I'll post a thing later tonight  

[Edema Rue she/her]

Ooooookay have some feelings my friends  

I'll Try:

Spoiler

She opened her eyes to see stars in a rich blue sky. At the center of her vision the moon shone brightly, lighting the world in a gentle and welcoming light. She sat up, looking around, and found herself face to face with a towering oak. Sitting on a wide branch was a boy.

“Who are you?” She asked, eyes wide.

“I’m a child,” he said, “who forgot to grow up. Who are you?”

“I’m a princess,” the girl murmured, not quite sure that she’d meant to say the words, “who didn’t realize I was supposed to wait for a prince to rescue me.” She paused. “Do you have a name?”

“I don’t think so. Do you?”

“Not one I’d like to remember.” The girl looked back up at the stars, watching them pulse faintly. When she turned back, the boy was standing beside her. He smiled.

“I like the stars,” he said. 

The girl blinked. “Who are you?” She asked.

The boy was quiet for a moment, staring into her eyes. His, she noticed, were a blue nearly as deep as the sky. “I’m your friend,” he said. “Do you remember me?”

“I want to,” she said. “Who am I?”

“You’re an angel,” the boy said, smiling. “Even if you don’t know it yet.”

“Really?” The girl blinked at him, then at the tree behind him. “Does that mean I can fly?”

“Would you like to?”

In response, the girl turned and pulled herself up into the tree, then higher, higher. The boy’s laughter chased her as he followed. Her head broke through the foliage, and she gaped at the sky. The boy followed a moment later. The girl turned to him, eyes shining. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?” The boy reached for the same branch she was holding, his fingers brushing hers. “It’s ours.”

The girl smiled. “I like that. But who are you?”

The boy’s smile faded. “I’m the stars. Who are you?”

“I think,” the girl whispered, “that I’m the night.”

“You can’t see the stars without the dark,” the boy said. “I’m seen through you, Princess.”

“I thought I was an angel.”

“You can be both.”

The girl laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Okay.” The boy reached his arm around her, and the girl leaned in closer, looking up at the sky. He was warm and safe, and strong as the tree beneath them. 

“You know this isn’t real,” the boy murmured into her hair.

“Shh,” she whispered. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to say it.”

He sighed softly. “What do you want me to say, Princess?”

“Who are you?” She asked tiredly. “I don’t remember.”

“I’m a child,” he said, “who doesn’t know how to grow up.”

“Do you have to?”

“You do,” he said gently. “You can’t hide here forever.”

“I don’t want to go back,” she whimpered, leaning further into him. “I don’t want to go.”

“I know,” he said.

“How?”

“Because I didn’t want to go back either.” The girl lifted her head, looking at him. He smiled sadly, his eyes large and melancholy. 

“Can’t we just stay here a while?” The girl looked away. “We could stay here.”

“Okay,” the boy said. “But not for too long. They’re waiting for you.”

But the girl barely heard the rest of his sentence. She was climbing down the branches, flying towards the ground, and then she was standing in the soft grass, spinning wildly. When the boy caught her, she grabbed his hand, pulling him along with her as she ran. 

“Where are we going?” He panted.

The girl smiled and shrugged, running on as fast as she could manage. Eventually, she heard the sound of running water and veered towards it. A slow river wound through the field. She smiled, then closed her eyes. When she opened them, there was a graceful bridge arcing over it and the boy was watching her.

“We can be gods,” she said. 

“Or kids,” he replied. “Not much difference here.” The girl walked up onto the bridge, looking down into the water, and the boy followed. “What’s that song?”

The girl cocked her head. “What song?”

“The one in your head.” The corner of his mouth twitched up. “It’s beautiful.”

“There isn’t a song in my head,” the girl said, blinking in confusion.

“Then maybe it’s in your heart,” he said, reaching for her hand. She gave it to him, and suddenly they were dancing. Each step was careful, precise, perfect. The boy hummed a gentle melody that was at once unknown and familiar. The girl closed her eyes, breathing in the air, feeling his careful hands. Then she stepped back, lip trembling. I can’t do this.

“Princess?”

“My name is Lily,” she said sharply. “I can’t get away from it.”

“Okay, Lily.”

They fell into silence as Lily’s breath started coming faster and faster. She shivered, and the boy reached for her, to warm her. She shied back. “Who are you?” Her voice was sharp, angry, cold.

“I’m you,” the boy said. “I’m the part of you that you’re scared to see. I’m the part of you that doesn’t hate the rest of you. The part of you that wants to smile. The part that wants to love, and be loved. I’m the part of you that’s dying, Lily.”

Lily shivered harder, taking a shaky breath. “I want to keep pretending. Why can’t I keep pretending?”

“Because you have to go back. And I can’t go with you.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to,” she snapped. “You’re a liar.”

“No, I’m not. I love you, Lily.”

“You don’t!” She insisted. “You don’t. You can’t.”

“But I do.” The boy reached for her, but she shook her head.

“You can’t,” she whispered.

“Lily,” he said calmly. “Are you afraid to be loved?” The tears were dripping from her chin before she even realized she was crying. She couldn’t answer, could barely breathe, could only cry. 

“I don’t know,” she finally whispered. 

“That’s okay,” he said, putting his hand on her arm. She didn’t move. She was pulled too tight to move. “Sit down,” the boy instructed, and she did. He sat next to her, feet trailing in the water. “Do you know why you’re here, Lily?”

“Because I can’t stand to be there.”

“That’s part of it,” the boy said, nodding encouragingly. “But something happened. Do you remember what happened?”

“I don’t want to,” Lily said. I can’t.

“I know,” the boy said. “I know. Can you try to anyway?”

Lily looked down into the water. The stars were reflected in the darkness. “There was—an accident.” As she spoke, the water shifted to show a quiet street. “I got hit by a car.” The car entered the image, flying towards a crosswalk and the girl who stood upon it. She looked up and froze, and it swerved, knocking her to the ground before screeching to a halt. 

“But you didn’t freeze, did you?” The boy’s voice was quiet, nearly a part of the picture.

“No,” Lily whispered. “I saw it. I could have run. I didn’t want to.”

“You wanted to die.”

“I never would have done it otherwise,” Lily said. “Killed myself, I mean. I’m too scared. But then it was coming, and I thought, I can go home. I just wanted to go home.”

“So you let it hit you.”

“And it didn’t work.” A fresh wave of tears flowed down Lily’s cheeks, and she scrubbed them away furiously. “And now you want me to go back. But I don’t think I can.”

“Lily,” the boy said, and she shook at the sound of his voice saying her name. “Did you think you deserved to die?” Lily didn’t say a word, and that was answer enough. “You can be loved,” the boy said gently. “You are loved. I need you to believe that.” Lily stayed silent, and for a moment the only sound was the trickling water beneath them. The boy put his hand on her back and began rubbing gentle spirals. “Do you trust me, Lily?”

I don’t know. I want to. I promise I want to. “I…”

“Can you try?” Lily sniffed and nodded. “Okay.” The boy met her eyes. “You’re going to go back. I know you don’t want to. I know it’ll hurt. But there are better things coming. Do you believe that?”

Lily hesitated for a long moment. “I want to,” she finally croaked. “But I don’t.” I can’t.

“I need you to believe it,” the boy said. “Because you’re going to need that hope.”

Lily shook her head, and suddenly she was laughing, or perhaps scoffing, or maybe it was just a sob. “You’re just some piece of my imagination. I’m imagining a conversation with myself because I probably have a terrible concussion. There’s no point to any of this. You aren’t real.”

“I’m more real than you think,” the boy said. “And there is a point, because you’re going to wake up. And when you do, you don’t have to hurt the way you do now. So. Can you try to believe that better things are coming?”

Lily nodded.

“Can you hold on, just until they get here?”

“How long?” Lily glared at the water. “How long do I have to wait? I’m tired. I’m lonely. I disgust even myself. I can’t do it.” I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. There’s so much, and it’s all too much. “Can’t I just go home?”

“What is home to you, if not life?” The boy was watching her intently, but Lily couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

“It’s—it’s everything else.” Lily shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. It’s where I was before I was born. It’s where I’ll be after I die. Maybe it’s like this place, I don’t know! But I want it. I need it.”

“Why?”

Lily turned her glare on him. “Why do you ask so many questions?” The boy raised an eyebrow, and she sighed. “I need a world that isn’t the one I live in. I need things I’ll never find there. To—to think clearly. To not be so afraid. To be a princess, or a queen, or a warrior, or anyone but who I am.”

“You want paradise.”

“Is that so wrong?”

“No. Of course it isn’t. And I can promise you that you’ll see that place someday. But I need you to live first.”

“I can’t,” Lily said. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

“You can. But not if you keep thinking like that.”

“I can’t think any other way!”

“Lily.” She scowled. “You have so many enemies out there,” he said. No, he begged. “Don’t give yourself one more. Fight for yourself, not against.”

“It’s too much,” Lily said firmly, wishing she could run away. Wishing she knew how to escape her own mind. “I can’t do it.”

“It’s hard,” the boy countered, “but you can.”

“What do you know?” She muttered, aware that she wasn’t really angry with him but with herself. Idiot. You can’t even think right.

“Stop,” the boy said sharply, sounding angry for the first time. “You will not talk to yourself like that. Do you understand me?” Lily blinked, shying away. “You’re human, Lily. You’re going to make mistakes. You have made them, and you’ll make more. Beating what spirit you have left into a pulp isn’t going to change that, only make it hurt worse.”

“Then how do I stop?” Lily pleaded. “I c–I don’t know how to stop.”

“Replace ‘I can’t’ with ‘I’m trying’. Change ‘I should’ to “I will’ or ‘I won’t’. Don’t lie to yourself, okay?” The boy still spoke firmly, but the anger was gone as if it had never been there. “Relationships without trust bring only pain, and right now you can’t trust yourself. So make little promises to yourself. Tell yourself when you’ll go to bed, or workout, and then do it. Take small steps. Do you think you can do that?”

“No,” Lily said honestly. “But…I’ll try.” I'm trying.

“That’s all you need to do,” the boy said. “One breath at a time.”

Lily nodded, and they sat in silence for a long, long time. The river flowed, the stars twinkled, and the moon reigned as an empress over her court. Finally the boy stood, taking her hand and leading her back to the tree.

“It’s time for you to go,” he said. 

Lily swallowed. “Okay,” she whispered. The world started to fade, but she reached for the boy one last time. “Wait. I ca–I don’t know how to thank you.”

And the boy smiled. “Keep living, Lily. Keep smiling and hoping. Whatever happens, I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

 

[Aeoryi she/her]

Even now, I continue to be impressed by your writing. Keep up the good work!

[Just a Silvereye he/him]

2 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

Ooooookay have some feelings my friends  

I'll Try:

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She opened her eyes to see stars in a rich blue sky. At the center of her vision the moon shone brightly, lighting the world in a gentle and welcoming light. She sat up, looking around, and found herself face to face with a towering oak. Sitting on a wide branch was a boy.

“Who are you?” She asked, eyes wide.

“I’m a child,” he said, “who forgot to grow up. Who are you?”

“I’m a princess,” the girl murmured, not quite sure that she’d meant to say the words, “who didn’t realize I was supposed to wait for a prince to rescue me.” She paused. “Do you have a name?”

“I don’t think so. Do you?”

“Not one I’d like to remember.” The girl looked back up at the stars, watching them pulse faintly. When she turned back, the boy was standing beside her. He smiled.

“I like the stars,” he said. 

The girl blinked. “Who are you?” She asked.

The boy was quiet for a moment, staring into her eyes. His, she noticed, were a blue nearly as deep as the sky. “I’m your friend,” he said. “Do you remember me?”

“I want to,” she said. “Who am I?”

“You’re an angel,” the boy said, smiling. “Even if you don’t know it yet.”

“Really?” The girl blinked at him, then at the tree behind him. “Does that mean I can fly?”

“Would you like to?”

In response, the girl turned and pulled herself up into the tree, then higher, higher. The boy’s laughter chased her as he followed. Her head broke through the foliage, and she gaped at the sky. The boy followed a moment later. The girl turned to him, eyes shining. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?” The boy reached for the same branch she was holding, his fingers brushing hers. “It’s ours.”

The girl smiled. “I like that. But who are you?”

The boy’s smile faded. “I’m the stars. Who are you?”

“I think,” the girl whispered, “that I’m the night.”

“You can’t see the stars without the dark,” the boy said. “I’m seen through you, Princess.”

“I thought I was an angel.”

“You can be both.”

The girl laughed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Okay.” The boy reached his arm around her, and the girl leaned in closer, looking up at the sky. He was warm and safe, and strong as the tree beneath them. 

“You know this isn’t real,” the boy murmured into her hair.

“Shh,” she whispered. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to say it.”

He sighed softly. “What do you want me to say, Princess?”

“Who are you?” She asked tiredly. “I don’t remember.”

“I’m a child,” he said, “who doesn’t know how to grow up.”

“Do you have to?”

“You do,” he said gently. “You can’t hide here forever.”

“I don’t want to go back,” she whimpered, leaning further into him. “I don’t want to go.”

“I know,” he said.

“How?”

“Because I didn’t want to go back either.” The girl lifted her head, looking at him. He smiled sadly, his eyes large and melancholy. 

“Can’t we just stay here a while?” The girl looked away. “We could stay here.”

“Okay,” the boy said. “But not for too long. They’re waiting for you.”

But the girl barely heard the rest of his sentence. She was climbing down the branches, flying towards the ground, and then she was standing in the soft grass, spinning wildly. When the boy caught her, she grabbed his hand, pulling him along with her as she ran. 

“Where are we going?” He panted.

The girl smiled and shrugged, running on as fast as she could manage. Eventually, she heard the sound of running water and veered towards it. A slow river wound through the field. She smiled, then closed her eyes. When she opened them, there was a graceful bridge arcing over it and the boy was watching her.

“We can be gods,” she said. 

“Or kids,” he replied. “Not much difference here.” The girl walked up onto the bridge, looking down into the water, and the boy followed. “What’s that song?”

The girl cocked her head. “What song?”

“The one in your head.” The corner of his mouth twitched up. “It’s beautiful.”

“There isn’t a song in my head,” the girl said, blinking in confusion.

“Then maybe it’s in your heart,” he said, reaching for her hand. She gave it to him, and suddenly they were dancing. Each step was careful, precise, perfect. The boy hummed a gentle melody that was at once unknown and familiar. The girl closed her eyes, breathing in the air, feeling his careful hands. Then she stepped back, lip trembling. I can’t do this.

“Princess?”

“My name is Lily,” she said sharply. “I can’t get away from it.”

“Okay, Lily.”

They fell into silence as Lily’s breath started coming faster and faster. She shivered, and the boy reached for her, to warm her. She shied back. “Who are you?” Her voice was sharp, angry, cold.

“I’m you,” the boy said. “I’m the part of you that you’re scared to see. I’m the part of you that doesn’t hate the rest of you. The part of you that wants to smile. The part that wants to love, and be loved. I’m the part of you that’s dying, Lily.”

Lily shivered harder, taking a shaky breath. “I want to keep pretending. Why can’t I keep pretending?”

“Because you have to go back. And I can’t go with you.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to,” she snapped. “You’re a liar.”

“No, I’m not. I love you, Lily.”

“You don’t!” She insisted. “You don’t. You can’t.”

“But I do.” The boy reached for her, but she shook her head.

“You can’t,” she whispered.

“Lily,” he said calmly. “Are you afraid to be loved?” The tears were dripping from her chin before she even realized she was crying. She couldn’t answer, could barely breathe, could only cry. 

“I don’t know,” she finally whispered. 

“That’s okay,” he said, putting his hand on her arm. She didn’t move. She was pulled too tight to move. “Sit down,” the boy instructed, and she did. He sat next to her, feet trailing in the water. “Do you know why you’re here, Lily?”

“Because I can’t stand to be there.”

“That’s part of it,” the boy said, nodding encouragingly. “But something happened. Do you remember what happened?”

“I don’t want to,” Lily said. I can’t.

“I know,” the boy said. “I know. Can you try to anyway?”

Lily looked down into the water. The stars were reflected in the darkness. “There was—an accident.” As she spoke, the water shifted to show a quiet street. “I got hit by a car.” The car entered the image, flying towards a crosswalk and the girl who stood upon it. She looked up and froze, and it swerved, knocking her to the ground before screeching to a halt. 

“But you didn’t freeze, did you?” The boy’s voice was quiet, nearly a part of the picture.

“No,” Lily whispered. “I saw it. I could have run. I didn’t want to.”

“You wanted to die.”

“I never would have done it otherwise,” Lily said. “Killed myself, I mean. I’m too scared. But then it was coming, and I thought, I can go home. I just wanted to go home.”

“So you let it hit you.”

“And it didn’t work.” A fresh wave of tears flowed down Lily’s cheeks, and she scrubbed them away furiously. “And now you want me to go back. But I don’t think I can.”

“Lily,” the boy said, and she shook at the sound of his voice saying her name. “Did you think you deserved to die?” Lily didn’t say a word, and that was answer enough. “You can be loved,” the boy said gently. “You are loved. I need you to believe that.” Lily stayed silent, and for a moment the only sound was the trickling water beneath them. The boy put his hand on her back and began rubbing gentle spirals. “Do you trust me, Lily?”

I don’t know. I want to. I promise I want to. “I…”

“Can you try?” Lily sniffed and nodded. “Okay.” The boy met her eyes. “You’re going to go back. I know you don’t want to. I know it’ll hurt. But there are better things coming. Do you believe that?”

Lily hesitated for a long moment. “I want to,” she finally croaked. “But I don’t.” I can’t.

“I need you to believe it,” the boy said. “Because you’re going to need that hope.”

Lily shook her head, and suddenly she was laughing, or perhaps scoffing, or maybe it was just a sob. “You’re just some piece of my imagination. I’m imagining a conversation with myself because I probably have a terrible concussion. There’s no point to any of this. You aren’t real.”

“I’m more real than you think,” the boy said. “And there is a point, because you’re going to wake up. And when you do, you don’t have to hurt the way you do now. So. Can you try to believe that better things are coming?”

Lily nodded.

“Can you hold on, just until they get here?”

“How long?” Lily glared at the water. “How long do I have to wait? I’m tired. I’m lonely. I disgust even myself. I can’t do it.” I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. There’s so much, and it’s all too much. “Can’t I just go home?”

“What is home to you, if not life?” The boy was watching her intently, but Lily couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

“It’s—it’s everything else.” Lily shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. It’s where I was before I was born. It’s where I’ll be after I die. Maybe it’s like this place, I don’t know! But I want it. I need it.”

“Why?”

Lily turned her glare on him. “Why do you ask so many questions?” The boy raised an eyebrow, and she sighed. “I need a world that isn’t the one I live in. I need things I’ll never find there. To—to think clearly. To not be so afraid. To be a princess, or a queen, or a warrior, or anyone but who I am.”

“You want paradise.”

“Is that so wrong?”

“No. Of course it isn’t. And I can promise you that you’ll see that place someday. But I need you to live first.”

“I can’t,” Lily said. I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

“You can. But not if you keep thinking like that.”

“I can’t think any other way!”

“Lily.” She scowled. “You have so many enemies out there,” he said. No, he begged. “Don’t give yourself one more. Fight for yourself, not against.”

“It’s too much,” Lily said firmly, wishing she could run away. Wishing she knew how to escape her own mind. “I can’t do it.”

“It’s hard,” the boy countered, “but you can.”

“What do you know?” She muttered, aware that she wasn’t really angry with him but with herself. Idiot. You can’t even think right.

“Stop,” the boy said sharply, sounding angry for the first time. “You will not talk to yourself like that. Do you understand me?” Lily blinked, shying away. “You’re human, Lily. You’re going to make mistakes. You have made them, and you’ll make more. Beating what spirit you have left into a pulp isn’t going to change that, only make it hurt worse.”

“Then how do I stop?” Lily pleaded. “I c–I don’t know how to stop.”

“Replace ‘I can’t’ with ‘I’m trying’. Change ‘I should’ to “I will’ or ‘I won’t’. Don’t lie to yourself, okay?” The boy still spoke firmly, but the anger was gone as if it had never been there. “Relationships without trust bring only pain, and right now you can’t trust yourself. So make little promises to yourself. Tell yourself when you’ll go to bed, or workout, and then do it. Take small steps. Do you think you can do that?”

“No,” Lily said honestly. “But…I’ll try.” I'm trying.

“That’s all you need to do,” the boy said. “One breath at a time.”

Lily nodded, and they sat in silence for a long, long time. The river flowed, the stars twinkled, and the moon reigned as an empress over her court. Finally the boy stood, taking her hand and leading her back to the tree.

“It’s time for you to go,” he said. 

Lily swallowed. “Okay,” she whispered. The world started to fade, but she reached for the boy one last time. “Wait. I ca–I don’t know how to thank you.”

And the boy smiled. “Keep living, Lily. Keep smiling and hoping. Whatever happens, I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

 

I did have feelings.

Wow.

[Edema Rue she/her]

1 hour ago, Aeoryi said:

Even now, I continue to be impressed by your writing. Keep up the good work!

Aww, thanks!!

54 minutes ago, Just a Silvereye said:

I did have feelings.

Wow.

 that's the goal!

[Edema Rue she/her]

Wrote this at work last night, it doesn’t give quite the vibes I wanted but I still really like it. I’ll probably rewrite and edit at some point

Ugly as a shattered heart:

Spoiler

“You killed him,” Seira said weakly, feeling as if she might vomit again.

“I did what I had to do,” Ten replied harshly. She pulled Seira after her. “Come on. Are you going to throw up?”

“I…”

“Don’t do it off the roof. You never know who it’ll land on.”

Seira swallowed. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” Ten glanced back, and something in Seira’s face must have convinced her of the lie. She sighed. “We can stop up here.” She hopped nimbly up to a higher roof. When Seira didn’t follow, she reached down and offered her hand. Seira took it. 

She stood on the roof, taking several shuddering breaths. “You killed him,” she repeated.

“It had to happen.” Ten met her eyes and sighed. “You don’t get it. Your corner of the world is too pretty for you to get it.”

“Maybe.” Seira said, shuddering. “But you’re a murderer. You’re a monster.”

“Yeah. Well.” Ten was avoiding her gaze. “Sometimes that’s what we have to be.”

Seira shook her head, looking at her sister with a new understanding. “No,” she said, nearly a shriek. “No, we don’t!”

“Listen,” Ten snarled. “You got to choose who you are. I didn’t. So you can stop whining—”

“It isn’t whining! He was a person, and you killed him, and who knows how many others!”

“I never had a choice—”

“And I never wanted one!” Seira glared at the other girl, eyes glittering with tears she would rather die than let fall.

“Right,” Ten said, laughing darkly. “Right, you’d give up your palaces and your schools and your family for my life.”

“I would!” Seira gritted her teeth, hating the voice in the back of her mind that whispered her mother’s words to her. Speak logically. Come back when you aren’t angry. Shut up! “I would give it all, Ten, because look what it made you!”

“I never wanted this!” Ten gestured at her ragged clothes, the scar curled from her ear down to her collarbone, the short purple hair that had never been forced into a bun. “I never wanted to become this.”

“But you did.” Seira looked away from her, down to the dark streets below. “You’re more than I will ever be, and you never even had to want it.”

“You don’t know anything about what I want,” Ten started, but Seira cut her off with a high, wild laugh.

“And you don’t know anything about me!” Abruptly, Seira swung at her, and Ten caught her hand. Seira aimed her elbow towards Ten’s stomach, but her sister shoved her back easily.

“What are you doing?” Seira didn’t answer. She panted for breath, kicking low at Ten’s knee. Ten danced back, eying her warily.

“Do you see it?” Seira seethed. “Do you see it now?”

“See what? You’re making no sense, Sei.”

“You’re broken,” Seira spat. “But look what you’re worth.”

Ten blinked, shaking her head in incredulity. “That’s what this is about? Please. You don’t even know what it means to be broken.”

“Of course I—”

“No.” Ten’s tone darkened, twisted into something frightening. Something powerful. Something that would not conceive the idea of being controlled. “No, you don’t. You haven’t been there. While you were trying on dresses and attending parties, I was stealing food to survive. Not to be comfortable. To survive. I looked death in the face every day, and I had to choose every day to keep living.” Ten shook her head.

 “You can’t ever understand. You can’t know what it is to watch everyone you’ve loved die and be told it’s your fault. You’ve never sat in a cell and watched your world crumble while you could do nothing to stop it. You’ve never torn at your hair or punched a wall until your fists bled.” Ten stopped, chest heaving. Seira’s face displayed something between triumph and horror. She could feel her heart pounding, could feel bile rising in her throat. 

She forced it down. “You do see, then.” 

“Just say what you mean,” Ten snapped tiredly. 

“You know those things. You understand them. You can fight. You can survive. You have a power I never will because you never had to choose!” The tears wanted to fall. Seira refused to let them. 

“Me?” Ten scoffed, a piece of loose hair so dark a purple it was nearly black falling over her eye. “Please. People like me can’t change anything. We just have to wait for people like you to clean up the mess that we are. You’re everything I could’ve been if I didn’t get stuck in this dump.”

“You aren’t listening,” Seira said. The fight had drained out of her. “I can’t do anything. I had too many options. I had everything. So I’ve become nothing. You’re everything I could’ve been if—if I’d been here.”

“You talk like your life is over.”

“Maybe it is.” Seira met her sister’s eyes, then slowly sat down, dangling her feet over the edge of the roof. “I don’t have a destination. I don’t have any fire, any fury. At home, I’m just one more person. Down here, I’m an easy mark. They don’t need me, and you can only protect me for so long.”

Ten sat down next to her. “So you’re redundant.”

Seira shrugged. “The world doesn’t need another person like me. It could stand to have a few more like you.”

Ten was quiet for a long moment. “There’s a lot you don’t see, you know. About what’s inside. I’d give anything to be as—as carefree as you.”

“Carefree?” Seira laughed. But when she looked over at Ten, her sister was frowning. 

“Have you ever taken a life, Seira?”

Seira stiffened. “What you did today….”

“Have you ever taken a life, Seira?”

“No,” Seira whispered, suddenly feeling very small.

“It changes you,” Ten said. “Everyone says that, but you don’t realize it until you’ve actually done it. And then you do it again, and again, and again.” She met Seira’s eyes, her own dark and haunted. “You know it’s bad once you stop counting.”

Seira swallowed, her breath coming faster. 

Ten laughed. “Maybe the way rich people break is different. Maybe you guys turn into heroes. Maybe, in your world, it’s beautiful.

“But somehow, I don’t think it is. It’s an ugly thing, Sei. Hearts don’t crack and heal nice and easy like bones. They splinter. They shatter. They get infected. And maybe you can fix it, but it’s never going back to how it was. It’s a mess, held together by glue and string and sheet will. It never stops hurting, not really.” Ten wasn’t looking at Seira anymore but out into the darkness. In the city proper, it would be filled with light. Here, there were only scattered fires, not quite enough to chase off the chill. Seira watched her sister, a pang in her chest growing stronger by the second. You cannot change the past, only fix the future. Get out of my head!

“It’s the things you don’t see that really get you. The things they won’t tell you in any of their fairytales. It’s the days and nights and days and nights that pass in a blur as you try to remember how to move on. It’s—it’s the friends you didn’t realize you needed until they’re dead.” Ten’s voice cracked. “It’s the voices, Sei. The ones that get in your head and don’t get out. The ones that laugh and laugh and laugh until you don’t remember what’s supposed to hurt.”

“I—” Seira’s throat stuck. She cleared it, trying again. “I’m sorry.”

Ten snorted, her mouth curving into a wry grin. “Sorry doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change how many years of my life are gone, and it doesn’t change how different the rest of them will be.”

“I know,” Seira murmured miserably. “I didn’t—I didn’t know it was you.”

Ten shrugged. “You were doing your job.”

“And it ruined your life!”

“Can’t ruin what’s already worthless.” Seira winced, and Ten set a hand on her knee, rubbing gently. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. That won’t help anyone. I got out, didn’t I?” Again, her mouth twisted into that same gentle smirk. “I take care of myself. You’ve got to take care of yourself, too.”

Seira nodded. She watched the city for a long, long moment. There was beauty in the darkness. In the flickery lights. In the sounds of laughter that echoed from glowing pubs. From above, it looked like everything she’d imagined. But she’d walked those streets, now. She’d smelled them. She’d heard the screams and seen the bloodstains. Ten was right. This place was as ugly as a shattering heart. 

One of the fires flared up, and Seira shivered. “Do you have the nightmares?” She asked quietly.

Ten stirred. “I…used to.”

“I still have them,” Seira said. You don’t have to be the strongest, her mother’s voice chided. You’re exactly what you need to be, right where you’re at. You aren’t helping. “They’re not as bad anymore. I used to wake up screaming.”

“Me too,” Ten said. To Seira, it looked as if she were leaving out a part of the story. A part of it that would remind Seira just how much less she was than the sister who’d once been a perfect mirror of herself. She ignored the thought.

“I thought I could feel my skin blistering. I heard them screaming. Our—our parents. They were dying. They begged me to save them, but I was being pulled out, and I couldn’t bring myself to go back in. They were still inside. You were too. I thought you were dead. For all those years.”

Ten nodded. “I was so glad you’d survived. That helped, on the worst days. To know that you were out there, living the life I never could.”

Seira let out a long, quiet sigh. “What do I do now, Ten?”

“I suppose,” Ten said quietly, “that you have a choice to make.”

Every muscle in Seira’s body seemed to tense at once. “I don’t want—”

“I know! I know. But there’s always a choice, whether you like it or not.” She smiled sadly. “You talk about my path as if it’s been straight and easy to follow. I still make choices, sister, just different ones. I choose to be alive. I choose not to listen to the laughter in my head. Even in prison, even when they try to take away every option you have. I always have a choice, Seira, and so I will never be powerless again.” She paused. Cocked her head. Brushed away loose strands of hair. “So I guess it’s up to you. What do you want?”

Seira shook her head in awe. “How did you get to be so wise?” Why not me? Why am I always behind everyone, even my own twin sister? Learn from everyone you can, darl—shut up shut up shut up! Ten raised an eyebrow, and Seira pursed her lips. “I want to be skilled. To be worth something.” You don’t need talent to matter. I’ll love you no matter what.

“That’s a start,” Ten said. “Use that. Build it into a fire, and burn.” Seira nodded, but suddenly Ten wasn’t looking at her anymore. She was glancing behind them, towards the city proper. Before Seira even realized she’d moved, the scarred girl was on her feet. “We have to get you back. Now.”

“Why?” Seira stood up, eyes wide and alert. “What’s happening?”

“Shields,” Ten replied. “A lot of them. And they still think I, ah, kidnapped you.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story. Come on.” Ten leaned back, falling into the air over the side of the building. Seira’s breath caught. Then Ten’s head popped back up. “Right,” she said. “There’s, um, a ladder on the other side, if you want it.”

Flushing, Seira crossed the building and began climbing down onto a lower roof. By the time she was down, Ten was already there. They crossed carefully, sprinting across open sections, always keeping a wall to their backs. More then once, Ten pointed to the street below, where Seira could hear Shields marching. The return was quicker than Seira expected; before she knew it, they were in the foliage of a tree just outside her family’s estate. 

Ten grabbed her arm. “Hey,” she said. “Live for me, okay? Fall in love. Have a family. Relish each moment.”

Seira snorted. “While you’re out there fighting? Please.” She felt a warm smirk fall into place. “I think it’s about time someone cleaned up your messes.”

Ten laughed, and in that moment it was the most beautiful sound Seira had ever heard. “I’ll be waiting. Be safe.”

Before Seira had a chance to answer, Ten was gone. Disappeared into the night. Seira shrugged, and made her way awkwardly down the tree. Her life was filled with options, opportunities, and it was about time she took the reins. 

Spoiler

Oh my sweet stars above I’m on mobile and getting all the formatting right was absolutely brutal

appreciate the italics please

 

[Edema Rue she/her]

Hey guys, don’t have anything new right now but I’ve been planning a ton of Liz stuff, and I’m finally starting to write it in chronological order, which has been super fun!

I have details on the magic system if anyone wants them, and a few fun plot ideas, but I’ll only share if people are interested

Also, I just found out that…my mom’s cousin’s cousin’s wife lives in England and has a phd in literature as psychotherapy (or something along those lines) which is like the coolest thing I’ve ever heard

[+Slowswift he/him]

1 hour ago, Edema Rue said:

Also, I just found out that…my mom’s cousin’s cousin’s wife lives in England and has a phd in literature as psychotherapy (or something along those lines) which is like the coolest thing I’ve ever heard

That is indeed the coolest thing I've ever heard.

On 7/25/2024 at 9:54 PM, Edema Rue said:

Wrote this at work last night, it doesn’t give quite the vibes I wanted but I still really like it. I’ll probably rewrite and edit at some point

Ugly as a shattered heart:

  Hide contents

“You killed him,” Seira said weakly, feeling as if she might vomit again.

“I did what I had to do,” Ten replied harshly. She pulled Seira after her. “Come on. Are you going to throw up?”

“I…”

“Don’t do it off the roof. You never know who it’ll land on.”

Seira swallowed. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” Ten glanced back, and something in Seira’s face must have convinced her of the lie. She sighed. “We can stop up here.” She hopped nimbly up to a higher roof. When Seira didn’t follow, she reached down and offered her hand. Seira took it. 

She stood on the roof, taking several shuddering breaths. “You killed him,” she repeated.

“It had to happen.” Ten met her eyes and sighed. “You don’t get it. Your corner of the world is too pretty for you to get it.”

“Maybe.” Seira said, shuddering. “But you’re a murderer. You’re a monster.”

“Yeah. Well.” Ten was avoiding her gaze. “Sometimes that’s what we have to be.”

Seira shook her head, looking at her sister with a new understanding. “No,” she said, nearly a shriek. “No, we don’t!”

“Listen,” Ten snarled. “You got to choose who you are. I didn’t. So you can stop whining—”

“It isn’t whining! He was a person, and you killed him, and who knows how many others!”

“I never had a choice—”

“And I never wanted one!” Seira glared at the other girl, eyes glittering with tears she would rather die than let fall.

“Right,” Ten said, laughing darkly. “Right, you’d give up your palaces and your schools and your family for my life.”

“I would!” Seira gritted her teeth, hating the voice in the back of her mind that whispered her mother’s words to her. Speak logically. Come back when you aren’t angry. Shut up! “I would give it all, Ten, because look what it made you!”

“I never wanted this!” Ten gestured at her ragged clothes, the scar curled from her ear down to her collarbone, the short purple hair that had never been forced into a bun. “I never wanted to become this.”

“But you did.” Seira looked away from her, down to the dark streets below. “You’re more than I will ever be, and you never even had to want it.”

“You don’t know anything about what I want,” Ten started, but Seira cut her off with a high, wild laugh.

“And you don’t know anything about me!” Abruptly, Seira swung at her, and Ten caught her hand. Seira aimed her elbow towards Ten’s stomach, but her sister shoved her back easily.

“What are you doing?” Seira didn’t answer. She panted for breath, kicking low at Ten’s knee. Ten danced back, eying her warily.

“Do you see it?” Seira seethed. “Do you see it now?”

“See what? You’re making no sense, Sei.”

“You’re broken,” Seira spat. “But look what you’re worth.”

Ten blinked, shaking her head in incredulity. “That’s what this is about? Please. You don’t even know what it means to be broken.”

“Of course I—”

“No.” Ten’s tone darkened, twisted into something frightening. Something powerful. Something that would not conceive the idea of being controlled. “No, you don’t. You haven’t been there. While you were trying on dresses and attending parties, I was stealing food to survive. Not to be comfortable. To survive. I looked death in the face every day, and I had to choose every day to keep living.” Ten shook her head.

 “You can’t ever understand. You can’t know what it is to watch everyone you’ve loved die and be told it’s your fault. You’ve never sat in a cell and watched your world crumble while you could do nothing to stop it. You’ve never torn at your hair or punched a wall until your fists bled.” Ten stopped, chest heaving. Seira’s face displayed something between triumph and horror. She could feel her heart pounding, could feel bile rising in her throat. 

She forced it down. “You do see, then.” 

“Just say what you mean,” Ten snapped tiredly. 

“You know those things. You understand them. You can fight. You can survive. You have a power I never will because you never had to choose!” The tears wanted to fall. Seira refused to let them. 

“Me?” Ten scoffed, a piece of loose hair so dark a purple it was nearly black falling over her eye. “Please. People like me can’t change anything. We just have to wait for people like you to clean up the mess that we are. You’re everything I could’ve been if I didn’t get stuck in this dump.”

“You aren’t listening,” Seira said. The fight had drained out of her. “I can’t do anything. I had too many options. I had everything. So I’ve become nothing. You’re everything I could’ve been if—if I’d been here.”

“You talk like your life is over.”

“Maybe it is.” Seira met her sister’s eyes, then slowly sat down, dangling her feet over the edge of the roof. “I don’t have a destination. I don’t have any fire, any fury. At home, I’m just one more person. Down here, I’m an easy mark. They don’t need me, and you can only protect me for so long.”

Ten sat down next to her. “So you’re redundant.”

Seira shrugged. “The world doesn’t need another person like me. It could stand to have a few more like you.”

Ten was quiet for a long moment. “There’s a lot you don’t see, you know. About what’s inside. I’d give anything to be as—as carefree as you.”

“Carefree?” Seira laughed. But when she looked over at Ten, her sister was frowning. 

“Have you ever taken a life, Seira?”

Seira stiffened. “What you did today….”

“Have you ever taken a life, Seira?”

“No,” Seira whispered, suddenly feeling very small.

“It changes you,” Ten said. “Everyone says that, but you don’t realize it until you’ve actually done it. And then you do it again, and again, and again.” She met Seira’s eyes, her own dark and haunted. “You know it’s bad once you stop counting.”

Seira swallowed, her breath coming faster. 

Ten laughed. “Maybe the way rich people break is different. Maybe you guys turn into heroes. Maybe, in your world, it’s beautiful.

“But somehow, I don’t think it is. It’s an ugly thing, Sei. Hearts don’t crack and heal nice and easy like bones. They splinter. They shatter. They get infected. And maybe you can fix it, but it’s never going back to how it was. It’s a mess, held together by glue and string and sheet will. It never stops hurting, not really.” Ten wasn’t looking at Seira anymore but out into the darkness. In the city proper, it would be filled with light. Here, there were only scattered fires, not quite enough to chase off the chill. Seira watched her sister, a pang in her chest growing stronger by the second. You cannot change the past, only fix the future. Get out of my head!

“It’s the things you don’t see that really get you. The things they won’t tell you in any of their fairytales. It’s the days and nights and days and nights that pass in a blur as you try to remember how to move on. It’s—it’s the friends you didn’t realize you needed until they’re dead.” Ten’s voice cracked. “It’s the voices, Sei. The ones that get in your head and don’t get out. The ones that laugh and laugh and laugh until you don’t remember what’s supposed to hurt.”

“I—” Seira’s throat stuck. She cleared it, trying again. “I’m sorry.”

Ten snorted, her mouth curving into a wry grin. “Sorry doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change how many years of my life are gone, and it doesn’t change how different the rest of them will be.”

“I know,” Seira murmured miserably. “I didn’t—I didn’t know it was you.”

Ten shrugged. “You were doing your job.”

“And it ruined your life!”

“Can’t ruin what’s already worthless.” Seira winced, and Ten set a hand on her knee, rubbing gently. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. That won’t help anyone. I got out, didn’t I?” Again, her mouth twisted into that same gentle smirk. “I take care of myself. You’ve got to take care of yourself, too.”

Seira nodded. She watched the city for a long, long moment. There was beauty in the darkness. In the flickery lights. In the sounds of laughter that echoed from glowing pubs. From above, it looked like everything she’d imagined. But she’d walked those streets, now. She’d smelled them. She’d heard the screams and seen the bloodstains. Ten was right. This place was as ugly as a shattering heart. 

One of the fires flared up, and Seira shivered. “Do you have the nightmares?” She asked quietly.

Ten stirred. “I…used to.”

“I still have them,” Seira said. You don’t have to be the strongest, her mother’s voice chided. You’re exactly what you need to be, right where you’re at. You aren’t helping. “They’re not as bad anymore. I used to wake up screaming.”

“Me too,” Ten said. To Seira, it looked as if she were leaving out a part of the story. A part of it that would remind Seira just how much less she was than the sister who’d once been a perfect mirror of herself. She ignored the thought.

“I thought I could feel my skin blistering. I heard them screaming. Our—our parents. They were dying. They begged me to save them, but I was being pulled out, and I couldn’t bring myself to go back in. They were still inside. You were too. I thought you were dead. For all those years.”

Ten nodded. “I was so glad you’d survived. That helped, on the worst days. To know that you were out there, living the life I never could.”

Seira let out a long, quiet sigh. “What do I do now, Ten?”

“I suppose,” Ten said quietly, “that you have a choice to make.”

Every muscle in Seira’s body seemed to tense at once. “I don’t want—”

“I know! I know. But there’s always a choice, whether you like it or not.” She smiled sadly. “You talk about my path as if it’s been straight and easy to follow. I still make choices, sister, just different ones. I choose to be alive. I choose not to listen to the laughter in my head. Even in prison, even when they try to take away every option you have. I always have a choice, Seira, and so I will never be powerless again.” She paused. Cocked her head. Brushed away loose strands of hair. “So I guess it’s up to you. What do you want?”

Seira shook her head in awe. “How did you get to be so wise?” Why not me? Why am I always behind everyone, even my own twin sister? Learn from everyone you can, darl—shut up shut up shut up! Ten raised an eyebrow, and Seira pursed her lips. “I want to be skilled. To be worth something.” You don’t need talent to matter. I’ll love you no matter what.

“That’s a start,” Ten said. “Use that. Build it into a fire, and burn.” Seira nodded, but suddenly Ten wasn’t looking at her anymore. She was glancing behind them, towards the city proper. Before Seira even realized she’d moved, the scarred girl was on her feet. “We have to get you back. Now.”

“Why?” Seira stood up, eyes wide and alert. “What’s happening?”

“Shields,” Ten replied. “A lot of them. And they still think I, ah, kidnapped you.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story. Come on.” Ten leaned back, falling into the air over the side of the building. Seira’s breath caught. Then Ten’s head popped back up. “Right,” she said. “There’s, um, a ladder on the other side, if you want it.”

Flushing, Seira crossed the building and began climbing down onto a lower roof. By the time she was down, Ten was already there. They crossed carefully, sprinting across open sections, always keeping a wall to their backs. More then once, Ten pointed to the street below, where Seira could hear Shields marching. The return was quicker than Seira expected; before she knew it, they were in the foliage of a tree just outside her family’s estate. 

Ten grabbed her arm. “Hey,” she said. “Live for me, okay? Fall in love. Have a family. Relish each moment.”

Seira snorted. “While you’re out there fighting? Please.” She felt a warm smirk fall into place. “I think it’s about time someone cleaned up your messes.”

Ten laughed, and in that moment it was the most beautiful sound Seira had ever heard. “I’ll be waiting. Be safe.”

Before Seira had a chance to answer, Ten was gone. Disappeared into the night. Seira shrugged, and made her way awkwardly down the tree. Her life was filled with options, opportunities, and it was about time she took the reins. 

  Reveal hidden contents

Oh my sweet stars above I’m on mobile and getting all the formatting right was absolutely brutal

appreciate the italics please

 

Also, I love this.

[Edema Rue she/her]

55 minutes ago, Slowswift said:

That is indeed the coolest thing I've ever heard.

Also, I love this.

RIGHT

Aww, thanks! I’m glad :))

[Edema Rue she/her]

Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehheheheheheheheeh

I'm Not Mad:

Spoiler

Ri was far into the forest when Allen found her. He hadn’t thought it possible for her to have gone so far in so little time, and had just been considering checking somewhere else when he heard her faint humming, as disconcerting as it had always been.

She turned as he entered the clearing, the corners of her mouth tilting up even as his own mouth pressed into a firm line. “You found me!” 

“You’re supposed to be at the school. Where it’s safe.”

Ri shrugged, turning back to what she’d been doing. Allen stepped closer and noticed, for the first time, that there was a kitten in front of her. A long, thin needle was stuck through its paw and into the ground. The creature should have been able to pull it free easily, but each time it tried the needle held fast. An enchantment, then. 

“Stop that,” he said, more harshly than he meant to. Ri flinched. Allen caught the flash of another needle sliding from her hand back into her sleeve as she took a breath.

“Will you make me?”

“Just go back to the school!” Allen shouted, fists clenching. Stop. You said you wouldn’t get angry. 

“You never used to yell at me,” Ri murmured sadly. The cat yowled as she spoke, and it took Allen a moment to see another needle sticking through the poor thing’s tail. 

“You never used to torture animals in the woods,” he snapped. 

She looked up at him. If it had been anyone else, it might have been charming; her long dress was spread on the bright grass, the kitten looked peaceful, if he squinted, and her dark hair was braided with odd purple flowers. “I miss your kisses,” she murmured.

Allen shook his head, gritting his teeth. I should go back. But he’d promised them he’d bring Ri with him. No one was allowed out here during lockdown. So he sat down next to her. Anger would get him nowhere with her; it had been sloppy of him to lose his temper. “Ri,” he said gently, even though he was fighting the urge to force her back at sword point. “You need to move on.”

“Why?” Spirits, her eyes. Allen looked away. “You love me.” The next needle went through another paw.

“What I loved,” Allen hissed, “was a lie. I never saw this.” He gestured at the bloody, yowling cat. 

“You didn’t need to!” Ri smiled warmly, the cat’s blood flowing into the grass.

Allen said nothing.

“No one else knows.” Ri snickered, and with a flick of her wrist her hand was filled with needles. “Sometimes I prick my roommate at night just to see if she’ll notice. Once I put one on the Highlord’s chair.” Before Allen could move, she’d stabbed a needle through her hand. “Sew it up,” Ri chanted. “Sew it up, make it better.”

He fought down a wave of nausea. “Why…keep it a secret? From me?” It was the only thing he could think to say. Ri was strange that way. Broken in ways he could barely imagine. That didn’t make him pity her. She was beyond helping. He’d just never realized how far beyond.

“You love me,” she said. “So I had to be a princess.”

Allen ran a finger through his hair. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered. Ri opened her mouth as if to say something, then turned and stared into the trees. She leapt to her feet, and this time, though he knew they were there, Allen didn’t see her needles at all. He stumbled up after her as a pair of men stepped into the clearing.

“Would you look at that,” the taller of the two drawled. “A Prince and a Princess without guards?”

“A Prince and a witch,” the other growled, pointing at the bleeding kitten. 

Ri grinned. “I was waiting for you.” Allen started. For the first time he could remember hearing, the sing-song quality had vanished from her voice. The men scoffed, and Ri’s grin deepened. Allen wanted to intervene. He knew what would happen almost before it did and yet he still found himself gaping as Ri jerkily flung a pair of needles into their foreheads. The metal was so fine that he saw the blood begin to drip before he saw the metal itself.

“You’ll die slowly,” Ri warned coldly. “I’ve done enough damage to guarantee your deaths, but left you alive enough to promise it’ll hurt. Would you like to earn quicker deaths?”

The men didn’t answer, gasping as they tried to pull out the long needles in their foreheads. 

Ri shrugged and turned back to Allen. She smiled. “The Princess is supposed to fall in love with the Prince after he saves her. Will the Prince love the Princess now that she’s saved him? Shut up!" The note of whimsy had returned to her tone. 

Allen swallowed back another wave of nausea, then drew his sword. He slid it across the throat of one man, then the other, then through the kitten. “You’re sick,” he spat. Competent, though…stop it. “We’re going back to the school.”

Ri crossed her arms. “Not until the Prince loves the Princess,” she sang. Then she blinked, her movements growing twitchy. “Shut up!” She screamed, seemingly at no one. 

Allen started to shake his head, but he hesitated. Ri would never answer to logic. Stubborn as anything, she was. “Maybe I do love you,” he said, letting his tone soften. He’d been through enough lectures on diplomacy to know when a new tactic was needed. Even if this one felt like a betrayal. “I want you to be safe, Ri. That’s why we need to go back.”

“Safe?” Ri giggled. “The Princess can save the Prince. We’re safe anywhere.”

Allen’s throat felt dry. “Maybe,” he hedged. “But those two weren’t alone. And you can’t kill all of them.”

Ri pursed her lips, as if considering it. Then she sighed. “Okay,” she decided. Allen let out a quiet sigh of relief, wincing as she took his arm. 

***

Ri giggled. They were yelling. They were yelling a lot. “He loves me,” she whispered to the stones in front of her. They didn’t answer. They never did. 

“She’s my student. We can’t just lock her away down here—”

“She’s a danger to everyone around her. By the forgotten spirits, she’s a murderer!”

Ri smiled as she poked a needle into the flesh of her thigh and pulled it back out again, heedless of the fact that it had no string attached. In and out. Sew the skin together, block the blood. Blood stains dresses. Blood stains carpets and sheets and shirts. Sew it in, sew it in.

“Give me a song,” the voice in her head demanded, so she hummed a gentle tune for him. He liked songs. Music and sewing, and she was a princess, and the prince loved her. He said he loved her. He used to love her. So maybe he still loved her.

In and out, only there was more blood now than when she’d started. Ri frowned and poked it deeper. 

“You’ve ruined my carpet!” The voice said, aghast, and Ri hummed louder to make up for her failure, no failing, failing meant hurting. Failing meant cold, failing was bad, so she pulled her needle harder and the blood followed it out, spilling onto the stones in front of her.

“I’m a princess,” she told them. “They told me I’m a princess, and the prince loves the princess.” That’s what the stories had always said. The prince loves the princess, and you are not a princess. But Ri was a princess. 

“No one loves you. No one ever will.”

“He loves me!” She shouted at the voice. The people arguing froze and turned to her, but she didn’t look at them. You’re worth nothing. “He loves me he loves me he loves me he loves me!” 

“Mad,” one of the voices murmured. “I told you.”

“I know. It still feels like betrayal.”

“Better her be down here than we find one of our students dead by her hand.”

“I didn’t say I disagree! Let’s go.”

Ri barely noticed them walking away.  “He loves me.” You’re nothing. “He loves me!” He doesn’t. Ri stood up jerkily, barely noticing the spike of pain from her leg. “I’m a princess,” she sang. 

I never wanted to be a princess yes I did no I didn’t I wanted I didn’t I wanted I wanted I wanted—

I wanted to be the little sister. 

“Big sister,” a new voice whispered, and Ri trembled. “Big sister, I’m scared.” Me too. “Big sister, make it better.” No one makes it better for me. “Big sister, will you hold me?” Who will hold me?

“Three!” The first voice snapped, so sharp that Ri jumped.

“Ri,” the second voice murmured, and a chorus joined it. Ri Ri Ri Three Ri Three Sister Ri—

“Shut up,” she muttered. “All of you shut up shut up shut up!”

The voices fell silent, and she looked up, becoming more aware of her surroundings. She was in a cell. A cage, the voices whispered. Again.

“Shut up!”

A different voice startled her. “How mad are you?”

She turned, searching for the source. Most of the other cells were empty. A few had residents that looked pointedly away from her while the rest watched her intently. None seemed to be the source of the voice, and Ri calmed at the realization. “Oh. You’re a new one!” She smiled. “You can shut up too.”

There was a pause. “Excuse me?”

Ri hummed pensively. That wasn’t right at all. This voice sounded like a person. She met the eyes of one of the people watching her. “Can you hear that?”

The person, a woman with scars covering every inch of her exposed skin, blinked. Then she nodded.

Ri giggled. “Am I imagining you?”

The woman frowned. “Of course not,” she growled, her voice like rocks falling from a rooftop.

Ri stuck out her tongue. “Well the Prince loves me.”

The woman blinked again. Then, unsure how to respond, she turned away, closing her eyes. Did that mean she’d decided Ri wasn’t a threat? Ri should have been able to tell. Maybe once she’d have known. Today…she was very nearly thinking clearly, and yet she still wasn’t half the person she’d been.

“You never answered my question.” 

Ri crossed her arms, slumping against the wall. “Hmph.” She said. She liked how the word felt, also she said it again. “Hmph. Who are you?”

“Someone who is almost as mad as you are,” the voice said, almost wryly, “or perhaps madder. I haven’t decided yet.”

“I’m not mad,” Ri mumbled.

The voice roared with laughter.

You’ve always been—

“Shut up!”

Make me. Oh…you can’t. Weak. Weak number Three, weak little Ri, can’t save your sisters and you can’t save yourself. Weak. Weak. Wea—

“Shut up!”

“I didn’t say any—”

“Not you,” Ri growled. Sing for me get out of my head entertain me no don’t disobey me I won’t do it I’ll hurt them if you won’t listen fine! Ri started humming, quietly but desperately. Not good enough, her mind told her, and she didn’t know if it was the voices or herself, only that she believed it. Not good enough, not good enough, not good enough.

The voice—the one she heard with her ears—was talking again, but she couldn’t be bothered to listen. Her voices never stayed quiet for long.

It hurts, Ri.

I’ll make it better. There was a needle in her hand, thin and trembling. I’ll make it better, I’ll make it better, I’ll make you better—idiot—no, I can make it better—dead dead dead dead dead both of them dead only I’m not dead I’m not dead why am I not dead?

They don’t love you. No one has, no one will. Your sisters are gone. Sing for me, or I’ll make you wish you’d gone with them.

I already do.

Ri’s breath was coming faster now, her humming louder but uglier. Her shaky needle dug into scars she was convinced were still wounds and she tried to sew herself back together, only she still had no thread.

That made her laugh. “No thread,” she whispered to the scarred woman, who was watching her again. “I don’t have any thread, and the blood will stain my dress.”

No one could love you HE LOVES ME! 

They told me I was a Princess and there is a Prince and the Prince loves the Princess and I am the Princess and he loves me he loves me he loves me—

“Definitely mad,” the voice murmured, and the other prisoners agreed. They all agreed.

“I’m not mad,” Ri said. Just weak I’M NOT WEAK you’re weak I LEFT YOU but I’ll find you GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT! “I’m not mad,” Ri said again, laughing. I’ll kill you for leaving…I’ll make you wish you were dead…broken bones and blood in the carpet—I can’t stain the carpet—wouldn’t you like that, little Three?

“I’m not mad.”

***

“Your Highness.” Allen turned, surprised to see Highlord Fiann Emince. The Highlord was officially one of the masters of the school, but he rarely spoke to students. He dealt with the soldiers and…Allen’s blood turned cold.

“What did she do?” He said without preamble.

Emince winced. That didn’t happen often. “It would be best if you saw it for yourself. I am to warn you, though, it isn’t a pretty sight.”

“Great,” Allen growled, following the taller man to a squat building. Why her? Of all the princesses at this spirits-cursed school, why did I have to love her? Their romance had been brief. She’d intrigued Allen, but he’d soon found that she was twisted. Strange in a way that was more than her time spent with the commoners could account for. He’d…well, he’d broken up with her. So why was she still his problem?

“Your Highness,” Emince said hesitantly. “I find it difficult to believe…that is to say, is it true…”

“You can say what you mean, Highlord,” Allen said tiredly. He’d never liked the dancing way that nobles spoke, rarely touching on anything that mattered. “Yes, I loved her. No, I didn’t know. Yes, I regret it. Yes, I want to know why no one can just let it go.”

Emince nodded. “Yes, I know all that. What I wanted to know was…did she love you?”

Allen blinked, caught off guard. He pondered the question for a long moment. “I think she still does.”

“That is excellent news, Highness, very excellent. Can you make her listen to you?”

Allen frowned. “What are you planning? She’s been hurt by enough people, Highlord. I’m not going to use her.”

Emince made a covert gesture to a guard, who opened a heavy wooden door. A long stone staircase descended on the other side, eventually reaching another wooden door. Emince stopped just before the second. “I would urge you to reconsider, Highness. She has rather unique talents that could be deeply beneficial to us.”

Allen blinked, decoding the sentence. “Her needles?”

“Yes.”

“You’re as mad as she is!”

Emince winced. “I assure you I am not. Your Highness, please consider my offer. War is coming. I am doing all I can to stall it, but to truly avoid it I need an...assassin.”

Allen shook his head, clumsily attempting to retreat backwards up the stairs. His head spun. “You want me to make her kill for you.”

“It will save tens of thousands of our people, perhaps more—”

“You can’t force her to be a murderer!”

“You are young,” Emince said. Allen didn’t miss the omission of his honorific. “You’ve never seen the true horrors of war. This girl is a monster. What you saw this morning, coupled with what lies beyond this door…I will do everything in my power to use her to protect your people. If I cannot control her, she will be executed and war will come for us.”

Allen swallowed. His father’s voice seemed to echo through his mind, thousands of phrases swarming and buzzing. Sacrifices must be made…the people come first…avoid war at all costs…he took a deep breath. Was it better this way? If it kept his people safe…

“We’ll keep her on a short leash, Your Highness.” Now that Allen seemed to be considering the idea, Emince’s formality returned smoothly. “She will not be allowed to harm anyone we don’t want dead.”

Allen gave a stiff nod, shoving away the faint feelings of guilt. It was their best option. If Emince wanted an assassin, he’d find a way to get one. Better a girl who was shattered beyond repair than some honest soldier with a whole mind. “I’ll do my best,” he said.

Emince smiled. “You are growing to be as wise as your father.”

Allen didn’t answer, pulling open the door instead. Upon seeing what was on the other side, his grip on it slackened and it nearly fell shut before Emince caught it. 

This was horror itself. Blood painted the walls, glistening scarlet in the torchlight. Bodies were strewn in the cells, each pierced by a shining silver needle. Several prisoners had clearly tried digging at their own foreheads to get them out; these hadn’t been quick deaths. And there was Ri, sitting passively in her cell. A needle that glowed a bright lilac was autonomously sewing along the line of an old scar. As it pulled, Allen saw that it was threaded with human hair.

Woven through it all was the singing. Ri was always humming, but he'd never heard her sing. It was terrifying.

Sleep now,

My dearest.

Sleep now,

My sweet.

Demons surround us,

Witches prevail.

But sleep now,

My dearest,

And I will protect you.

Sleep now,

My sweet.

I’ll chase the darkness from you.

Allen forced down bile, stepping into the room. It stank of metal. “Ri,” he croaked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Her head snapped up, and upon seeing him she bounded to her feet. The needle fell lip, dangling from her thigh by the hair that served as a thread. “My Prince came! But I already saved myself, silly. Shut up.”

Allen felt sick. This was madness, all of it madness. “Ri,” he said again, steeling himself. He took a step forward, his boots sticking to the drying blood on the floor. “I—love you.” If she noticed the way he choked out the words, she made no mention of it.

“Shut up,” she whispered. Allen knew she wasn’t talking to him.

“I need you to do something for me, Ri.”

“Everything for my Prince.”

hehehehehe @Kajsa @Wittles @Weaver of Lies

[Wittles he/him]

On 8/12/2024 at 9:26 AM, Edema Rue said:

Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehheheheheheheheeh

I'm Not Mad:

  Reveal hidden contents

Ri was far into the forest when Allen found her. He hadn’t thought it possible for her to have gone so far in so little time, and had just been considering checking somewhere else when he heard her faint humming, as disconcerting as it had always been.

She turned as he entered the clearing, the corners of her mouth tilting up even as his own mouth pressed into a firm line. “You found me!” 

“You’re supposed to be at the school. Where it’s safe.”

Ri shrugged, turning back to what she’d been doing. Allen stepped closer and noticed, for the first time, that there was a kitten in front of her. A long, thin needle was stuck through its paw and into the ground. The creature should have been able to pull it free easily, but each time it tried the needle held fast. An enchantment, then. 

“Stop that,” he said, more harshly than he meant to. Ri flinched. Allen caught the flash of another needle sliding from her hand back into her sleeve as she took a breath.

“Will you make me?”

“Just go back to the school!” Allen shouted, fists clenching. Stop. You said you wouldn’t get angry. 

“You never used to yell at me,” Ri murmured sadly. The cat yowled as she spoke, and it took Allen a moment to see another needle sticking through the poor thing’s tail. 

“You never used to torture animals in the woods,” he snapped. 

She looked up at him. If it had been anyone else, it might have been charming; her long dress was spread on the bright grass, the kitten looked peaceful, if he squinted, and her dark hair was braided with odd purple flowers. “I miss your kisses,” she murmured.

Allen shook his head, gritting his teeth. I should go back. But he’d promised them he’d bring Ri with him. No one was allowed out here during lockdown. So he sat down next to her. Anger would get him nowhere with her; it had been sloppy of him to lose his temper. “Ri,” he said gently, even though he was fighting the urge to force her back at sword point. “You need to move on.”

“Why?” Spirits, her eyes. Allen looked away. “You love me.” The next needle went through another paw.

“What I loved,” Allen hissed, “was a lie. I never saw this.” He gestured at the bloody, yowling cat. 

“You didn’t need to!” Ri smiled warmly, the cat’s blood flowing into the grass.

Allen said nothing.

“No one else knows.” Ri snickered, and with a flick of her wrist her hand was filled with needles. “Sometimes I prick my roommate at night just to see if she’ll notice. Once I put one on the Highlord’s chair.” Before Allen could move, she’d stabbed a needle through her hand. “Sew it up,” Ri chanted. “Sew it up, make it better.”

He fought down a wave of nausea. “Why…keep it a secret? From me?” It was the only thing he could think to say. Ri was strange that way. Broken in ways he could barely imagine. That didn’t make him pity her. She was beyond helping. He’d just never realized how far beyond.

“You love me,” she said. “So I had to be a princess.”

Allen ran a finger through his hair. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered. Ri opened her mouth as if to say something, then turned and stared into the trees. She leapt to her feet, and this time, though he knew they were there, Allen didn’t see her needles at all. He stumbled up after her as a pair of men stepped into the clearing.

“Would you look at that,” the taller of the two drawled. “A Prince and a Princess without guards?”

“A Prince and a witch,” the other growled, pointing at the bleeding kitten. 

Ri grinned. “I was waiting for you.” Allen started. For the first time he could remember hearing, the sing-song quality had vanished from her voice. The men scoffed, and Ri’s grin deepened. Allen wanted to intervene. He knew what would happen almost before it did and yet he still found himself gaping as Ri jerkily flung a pair of needles into their foreheads. The metal was so fine that he saw the blood begin to drip before he saw the metal itself.

“You’ll die slowly,” Ri warned coldly. “I’ve done enough damage to guarantee your deaths, but left you alive enough to promise it’ll hurt. Would you like to earn quicker deaths?”

The men didn’t answer, gasping as they tried to pull out the long needles in their foreheads. 

Ri shrugged and turned back to Allen. She smiled. “The Princess is supposed to fall in love with the Prince after he saves her. Will the Prince love the Princess now that she’s saved him? Shut up!" The note of whimsy had returned to her tone. 

Allen swallowed back another wave of nausea, then drew his sword. He slid it across the throat of one man, then the other, then through the kitten. “You’re sick,” he spat. Competent, though…stop it. “We’re going back to the school.”

Ri crossed her arms. “Not until the Prince loves the Princess,” she sang. Then she blinked, her movements growing twitchy. “Shut up!” She screamed, seemingly at no one. 

Allen started to shake his head, but he hesitated. Ri would never answer to logic. Stubborn as anything, she was. “Maybe I do love you,” he said, letting his tone soften. He’d been through enough lectures on diplomacy to know when a new tactic was needed. Even if this one felt like a betrayal. “I want you to be safe, Ri. That’s why we need to go back.”

“Safe?” Ri giggled. “The Princess can save the Prince. We’re safe anywhere.”

Allen’s throat felt dry. “Maybe,” he hedged. “But those two weren’t alone. And you can’t kill all of them.”

Ri pursed her lips, as if considering it. Then she sighed. “Okay,” she decided. Allen let out a quiet sigh of relief, wincing as she took his arm. 

***

Ri giggled. They were yelling. They were yelling a lot. “He loves me,” she whispered to the stones in front of her. They didn’t answer. They never did. 

“She’s my student. We can’t just lock her away down here—”

“She’s a danger to everyone around her. By the forgotten spirits, she’s a murderer!”

Ri smiled as she poked a needle into the flesh of her thigh and pulled it back out again, heedless of the fact that it had no string attached. In and out. Sew the skin together, block the blood. Blood stains dresses. Blood stains carpets and sheets and shirts. Sew it in, sew it in.

“Give me a song,” the voice in her head demanded, so she hummed a gentle tune for him. He liked songs. Music and sewing, and she was a princess, and the prince loved her. He said he loved her. He used to love her. So maybe he still loved her.

In and out, only there was more blood now than when she’d started. Ri frowned and poked it deeper. 

“You’ve ruined my carpet!” The voice said, aghast, and Ri hummed louder to make up for her failure, no failing, failing meant hurting. Failing meant cold, failing was bad, so she pulled her needle harder and the blood followed it out, spilling onto the stones in front of her.

“I’m a princess,” she told them. “They told me I’m a princess, and the prince loves the princess.” That’s what the stories had always said. The prince loves the princess, and you are not a princess. But Ri was a princess. 

“No one loves you. No one ever will.”

“He loves me!” She shouted at the voice. The people arguing froze and turned to her, but she didn’t look at them. You’re worth nothing. “He loves me he loves me he loves me he loves me!” 

“Mad,” one of the voices murmured. “I told you.”

“I know. It still feels like betrayal.”

“Better her be down here than we find one of our students dead by her hand.”

“I didn’t say I disagree! Let’s go.”

Ri barely noticed them walking away.  “He loves me.” You’re nothing. “He loves me!” He doesn’t. Ri stood up jerkily, barely noticing the spike of pain from her leg. “I’m a princess,” she sang. 

I never wanted to be a princess yes I did no I didn’t I wanted I didn’t I wanted I wanted I wanted—

I wanted to be the little sister. 

“Big sister,” a new voice whispered, and Ri trembled. “Big sister, I’m scared.” Me too. “Big sister, make it better.” No one makes it better for me. “Big sister, will you hold me?” Who will hold me?

“Three!” The first voice snapped, so sharp that Ri jumped.

“Ri,” the second voice murmured, and a chorus joined it. Ri Ri Ri Three Ri Three Sister Ri—

“Shut up,” she muttered. “All of you shut up shut up shut up!”

The voices fell silent, and she looked up, becoming more aware of her surroundings. She was in a cell. A cage, the voices whispered. Again.

“Shut up!”

A different voice startled her. “How mad are you?”

She turned, searching for the source. Most of the other cells were empty. A few had residents that looked pointedly away from her while the rest watched her intently. None seemed to be the source of the voice, and Ri calmed at the realization. “Oh. You’re a new one!” She smiled. “You can shut up too.”

There was a pause. “Excuse me?”

Ri hummed pensively. That wasn’t right at all. This voice sounded like a person. She met the eyes of one of the people watching her. “Can you hear that?”

The person, a woman with scars covering every inch of her exposed skin, blinked. Then she nodded.

Ri giggled. “Am I imagining you?”

The woman frowned. “Of course not,” she growled, her voice like rocks falling from a rooftop.

Ri stuck out her tongue. “Well the Prince loves me.”

The woman blinked again. Then, unsure how to respond, she turned away, closing her eyes. Did that mean she’d decided Ri wasn’t a threat? Ri should have been able to tell. Maybe once she’d have known. Today…she was very nearly thinking clearly, and yet she still wasn’t half the person she’d been.

“You never answered my question.” 

Ri crossed her arms, slumping against the wall. “Hmph.” She said. She liked how the word felt, also she said it again. “Hmph. Who are you?”

“Someone who is almost as mad as you are,” the voice said, almost wryly, “or perhaps madder. I haven’t decided yet.”

“I’m not mad,” Ri mumbled.

The voice roared with laughter.

You’ve always been—

“Shut up!”

Make me. Oh…you can’t. Weak. Weak number Three, weak little Ri, can’t save your sisters and you can’t save yourself. Weak. Weak. Wea—

“Shut up!”

“I didn’t say any—”

“Not you,” Ri growled. Sing for me get out of my head entertain me no don’t disobey me I won’t do it I’ll hurt them if you won’t listen fine! Ri started humming, quietly but desperately. Not good enough, her mind told her, and she didn’t know if it was the voices or herself, only that she believed it. Not good enough, not good enough, not good enough.

The voice—the one she heard with her ears—was talking again, but she couldn’t be bothered to listen. Her voices never stayed quiet for long.

It hurts, Ri.

I’ll make it better. There was a needle in her hand, thin and trembling. I’ll make it better, I’ll make it better, I’ll make you better—idiot—no, I can make it better—dead dead dead dead dead both of them dead only I’m not dead I’m not dead why am I not dead?

They don’t love you. No one has, no one will. Your sisters are gone. Sing for me, or I’ll make you wish you’d gone with them.

I already do.

Ri’s breath was coming faster now, her humming louder but uglier. Her shaky needle dug into scars she was convinced were still wounds and she tried to sew herself back together, only she still had no thread.

That made her laugh. “No thread,” she whispered to the scarred woman, who was watching her again. “I don’t have any thread, and the blood will stain my dress.”

No one could love you HE LOVES ME! 

They told me I was a Princess and there is a Prince and the Prince loves the Princess and I am the Princess and he loves me he loves me he loves me—

“Definitely mad,” the voice murmured, and the other prisoners agreed. They all agreed.

“I’m not mad,” Ri said. Just weak I’M NOT WEAK you’re weak I LEFT YOU but I’ll find you GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT! “I’m not mad,” Ri said again, laughing. I’ll kill you for leaving…I’ll make you wish you were dead…broken bones and blood in the carpet—I can’t stain the carpet—wouldn’t you like that, little Three?

“I’m not mad.”

***

“Your Highness.” Allen turned, surprised to see Highlord Fiann Emince. The Highlord was officially one of the masters of the school, but he rarely spoke to students. He dealt with the soldiers and…Allen’s blood turned cold.

“What did she do?” He said without preamble.

Emince winced. That didn’t happen often. “It would be best if you saw it for yourself. I am to warn you, though, it isn’t a pretty sight.”

“Great,” Allen growled, following the taller man to a squat building. Why her? Of all the princesses at this spirits-cursed school, why did I have to love her? Their romance had been brief. She’d intrigued Allen, but he’d soon found that she was twisted. Strange in a way that was more than her time spent with the commoners could account for. He’d…well, he’d broken up with her. So why was she still his problem?

“Your Highness,” Emince said hesitantly. “I find it difficult to believe…that is to say, is it true…”

“You can say what you mean, Highlord,” Allen said tiredly. He’d never liked the dancing way that nobles spoke, rarely touching on anything that mattered. “Yes, I loved her. No, I didn’t know. Yes, I regret it. Yes, I want to know why no one can just let it go.”

Emince nodded. “Yes, I know all that. What I wanted to know was…did she love you?”

Allen blinked, caught off guard. He pondered the question for a long moment. “I think she still does.”

“That is excellent news, Highness, very excellent. Can you make her listen to you?”

Allen frowned. “What are you planning? She’s been hurt by enough people, Highlord. I’m not going to use her.”

Emince made a covert gesture to a guard, who opened a heavy wooden door. A long stone staircase descended on the other side, eventually reaching another wooden door. Emince stopped just before the second. “I would urge you to reconsider, Highness. She has rather unique talents that could be deeply beneficial to us.”

Allen blinked, decoding the sentence. “Her needles?”

“Yes.”

“You’re as mad as she is!”

Emince winced. “I assure you I am not. Your Highness, please consider my offer. War is coming. I am doing all I can to stall it, but to truly avoid it I need an...assassin.”

Allen shook his head, clumsily attempting to retreat backwards up the stairs. His head spun. “You want me to make her kill for you.”

“It will save tens of thousands of our people, perhaps more—”

“You can’t force her to be a murderer!”

“You are young,” Emince said. Allen didn’t miss the omission of his honorific. “You’ve never seen the true horrors of war. This girl is a monster. What you saw this morning, coupled with what lies beyond this door…I will do everything in my power to use her to protect your people. If I cannot control her, she will be executed and war will come for us.”

Allen swallowed. His father’s voice seemed to echo through his mind, thousands of phrases swarming and buzzing. Sacrifices must be made…the people come first…avoid war at all costs…he took a deep breath. Was it better this way? If it kept his people safe…

“We’ll keep her on a short leash, Your Highness.” Now that Allen seemed to be considering the idea, Emince’s formality returned smoothly. “She will not be allowed to harm anyone we don’t want dead.”

Allen gave a stiff nod, shoving away the faint feelings of guilt. It was their best option. If Emince wanted an assassin, he’d find a way to get one. Better a girl who was shattered beyond repair than some honest soldier with a whole mind. “I’ll do my best,” he said.

Emince smiled. “You are growing to be as wise as your father.”

Allen didn’t answer, pulling open the door instead. Upon seeing what was on the other side, his grip on it slackened and it nearly fell shut before Emince caught it. 

This was horror itself. Blood painted the walls, glistening scarlet in the torchlight. Bodies were strewn in the cells, each pierced by a shining silver needle. Several prisoners had clearly tried digging at their own foreheads to get them out; these hadn’t been quick deaths. And there was Ri, sitting passively in her cell. A needle that glowed a bright lilac was autonomously sewing along the line of an old scar. As it pulled, Allen saw that it was threaded with human hair.

Woven through it all was the singing. Ri was always humming, but he'd never heard her sing. It was terrifying.

Sleep now,

My dearest.

Sleep now,

My sweet.

Demons surround us,

Witches prevail.

But sleep now,

My dearest,

And I will protect you.

Sleep now,

My sweet.

I’ll chase the darkness from you.

Allen forced down bile, stepping into the room. It stank of metal. “Ri,” he croaked, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Her head snapped up, and upon seeing him she bounded to her feet. The needle fell lip, dangling from her thigh by the hair that served as a thread. “My Prince came! But I already saved myself, silly. Shut up.”

Allen felt sick. This was madness, all of it madness. “Ri,” he said again, steeling himself. He took a step forward, his boots sticking to the drying blood on the floor. “I—love you.” If she noticed the way he choked out the words, she made no mention of it.

“Shut up,” she whispered. Allen knew she wasn’t talking to him.

“I need you to do something for me, Ri.”

“Everything for my Prince.”

hehehehehe @Kajsa @Wittles @Weaver of Lies

Woah

That was really creepy and really sad and really well written

[Edema Rue she/her]

By the Lake:

Spoiler

None of them were quite sure when they first saw Erin. They all agreed that she was in one of their classes, even if none of them could say quite where she sat, or could quite remember hearing her offer an answer. They all agreed that they met her the same time they met each other, even though the rest of them had at least been acquainted before that night. Perhaps it should have bothered them more than it did, but she was there, and she was Erin, and eventually the whole matter faded completely.

They’d just stepped out of a mind-numbing physics class and were blinking at the sun, as if they hadn’t quite expected it to still be there. 

“Well,” Jack said. Then, because he couldn’t quite remember what should come next, he said it again. “Well.”

By happenstance, Arissa was next to him, and she snorted. “I think I need a drink.” Laughter followed, and she shook her head ruefully. “I meant it. Anyone want to come?” She was always the bravest of them. Much of the class filtered by, mumbling about work or other classes, but not all of them, and so they set off. Somewhere along the way it was mentioned that it was 2 in the afternoon, and so they found themselves in a small cafe rather than a bar.

They shared the amiable comfort of those who had shared classes rather than conversations, but over sandwiches and juice they grew into acquaintances, and maybe something more. Jack was the tallest, Arissa the loudest. Sierra was the most beautiful. Brin noticed everything, and his unfiltered honesty was fast enough that they often wished he didn’t. And Erin. Each assumed one of the others knew her. She never spoke to deny it, or even to offer her name, but in one of her more beautiful mysteries, it wasn’t at all strange or awkward.

“You’re Erin, right?” Sierra said, and Erin nodded, and that was enough. Afterwards, Sierra would swear that she’d never seen Erin before that day. “You have the most gorgeous hair.”

“But you think yours is prettier.” Sierra froze, and Brin winced. “Sorry,” he said. “I, uh…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Arissa said, interrupting what should have been mortifying. “As pretty as you two may be, we all know who the real fashion queen is here.” Everyone blinked, taking a moment to take in the tangled mess masquerading as her ponytail. Then they laughed, and all anger fled.

Erin smiled.

Later, they exchanged phone numbers and split off to their various dorms, promising to meet up again soon. 

Then they forgot. Each of them had difficult classes, and soon the work began to overrun any lingering desire for friendship. After nearly three weeks, though, four phones buzzed across campus. 

 

Erin: I’m headed to the lake tomorrow night…anyone want to come?

 

Four yeses were quickly typed out, and the next night the five of them found themselves surrounded by mountains and stars instead of textbooks and scholars.

“I haven’t seen you around,” Arissa said after they’d finished their greetings. “Skipping class?”

Erin smiled shyly, and the others were suddenly aware that she had traded out of the dull physics class, and would be studying psychology for the foreseeable future. None of them questioned this new knowledge. In fact, none of them even seemed to realize that Erin hadn’t spoken. 

“I should’ve done that,” Jack muttered. “I can never wrap my mind around it all.”

“We should start a study group!” Sierra said. 

“Right,” Brin said, his tone as flat and sarcastic as always. “Without Erin.”

Again, it should have been mortifying. Again, it was not. Erin shrugged, and they understood that it didn’t matter to her, that she wouldn’t be insulted. And so the conversation moved on.

The lake was small, tucked away in the mountains and pine trees. It reflected the moon and stars so perfectly that Sierra gasped upon seeing it for the first time. They followed Erin along a trail that curved around the rim until they reached a place with a fire pit and several logs.

“Too bad we don’t have matches,” Jack said, and Brin and Sierra nodded. 

Arissa grinned. “Maybe we don’t need matches.”

Brin scoffed. “Aren’t you from Dallas? I doubt you know how to start a fire with matches, let alone without.”

“Ouch,” Arissa said, not sounding at all hurt. “But I wasn’t talking about me. Erin can.”

All eyes turned to Erin, who blushed, and conveyed that she could. It bears explaining that she wasn’t speaking “telepathically”. Such things are impossible. She wasn’t talking into their minds or whispering her answers. She simply met their eyes, and they knew what it was she would be saying, if she had spoken. At that point there was no need for her to speak, and so she didn’t. 

“I’ll find wood,” Jack offered.

“Are you sure?” Sierra bit her lip. “We’re pretty much in the middle of nowhere. What if there’s an accident?”

“Don’t worry,” Arissa said. “We’ll be careful.”

So Jack gathered firewood, and Erin started a fire. Aside from Brin’s surprise at how quickly she worked, no one mentioned that she hadn’t rubbed two stones together so much as touched the wood, which started smoking. The fire grew and blazed, and sitting around it the tension seemed to melt away. This far from civilization, it was hard to care about their books and their grades. The future seemed far, far away.

The sun dropped lower and the moon rose higher to the sounds of laughter and stories.

That night ended, as all nights do, but the memories didn’t fade so completely. There were greetings and smiles, lunches and study groups. Erin was occasionally spotted around campus, but was never there when the others were together. In another mystery they refused to question, she was never cut out or forgotten. And in return, whenever things seemed the worst, a text always came through.

 

Erin: Lake tonight?

 

Days and nights spent at the lake blurred together into a beautiful fantasy. And if there was a little less homework on those days then it was only luck. And if the heat of summer seemed to stretch a little longer, then they were only making use of the weather. When Sierra and Jack started dating, the group didn’t splinter or even separate, and they congratulated themselves on being such good friends. When the pair broke up, there was no need to comment on the lack of anger or awkwardness; it was an obvious byproduct of how deep and true their friendships ran.

“Tell us something you’ve never told anyone before,” Arissa said, leaning forward on her bench. “Something that matters.”

Jack whistled softly. “Hard question…who wants to go first?” All eyes were on him, and he winced. “Thanks, guys.” But he stared into the fire, surprisingly thoughtful. “My family doesn’t have much money. Or really any money. They were living on my paychecks, but I wanted more than that life so I came to school. I left them.”

Erin met his eyes and he smiled, comforted by the things she hadn’t said. Then she swallowed and took a breath, and the others understood that they were her first friends. That she didn’t know what she’d do if she were alone again. That her family wanted her to come home, and that she was terrified to go back to them.

A moment of silence. Then, surprisingly, Sierra cleared her throat.

“I never wanted to come to college,” she blurted. “I had my whole life planned out without it. Then my–well–the boy I thought I was going to marry–he broke up with me. He told me I’d never survive without someone else to do all the work, that I wasn’t smart enough to actually succeed alone. So I…I decided to prove him wrong. I don’t know what I’ll do when I graduate. If I graduate. I’m only here out of spite.” 

Arissa spoke next. “I don’t…I mean…” she laughed uncomfortably. “Maybe…right.” A cough. The others watched her without judgment. “I guess I’m not really sure how to say it, but…I’m not brave. Most of the time, I’m really, really scared. Terrified.” The uncomfortable laugh returned. “I feel like I’m going to fall apart.” Now her tone was a whisper, barely audible over the crackling of the flames. “Every day, every hour, every minute. This–this place, by the lake. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt safe.”

The others nodded agreement, understanding in a way that’s only possible when darkness is shared. After a moment, eyes started flicking to Brin. He was staring at the ground, his finger tapping slowly on his knee. “I don’t do things like this,” he said. “But I wish I did. I don’t get close to people. Not my family, not friends, not anyone. I keep trying to figure out why you guys are different, but there’s no reason. Nothing about this should be different than everything else. But it is. And…I’m glad.”

Time kept racing forward. Tests and breaks and days by the lake flew past until all at once they didn’t. It wasn’t that it slowed as much as it crashed to the ground in an abrupt burst of flames, searing everyone with the sudden, unexpected heat. 

Jake got the call first. It was a lazy Sunday morning and he didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?” He said, expecting it to be a telemarketer. Instead, a rich female voice answered him. It was heavily accented, though he couldn’t have said from where. 

“You are Erin’s friend,” she said.

Jack blinked. “I’m one of them, sure…who are you?”

“I am her mother,” the voice said. “There has been an…accident.”

The funeral was frighteningly small. Erin’s parents, several people who must have been family friends, and the four friends. It passed hazily, as if it were a dream they were trying desperately to recall after it had ended. By some unspoken agreement, they all found their way to the lake after extracting themselves uncomfortably from the small gathering.

No one spoke for a long, long time. They sat on their usual logs, looking into the cold fire pit. “This is where it happened,” Jack suddenly blurted. “Her mom said it was a—bear, right? She said—she was walking back from the lake—” he stopped, and no one picked up the slack.

More time passed. No one was quite sure if they were allowed to leave, but no one wanted to be the first to go, and so they sat in uncomfortable silence. 

Arissa pulled her knees up to her chin. “It’s so weird to think. But—apart from the lake—our lives won’t really—I mean—we didn’t actually see her that much—”

Brin scoffed. “Our friend is dead, and all you can think is that it won’t affect our lives.”

Arissa drew in a sharp breath, the tension suddenly thick in the air. Even Brin seemed surprised. This was how he always spoke, after all: blunt, cruel, honest. But it never meant anything. It never caused any harm.

Not until that night. The tension thickened, thickened.

“That’s not what I meant,” Arissa snapped. Her lip started to tremble, and she clenched her teeth. Still, a single tear trickled out and down her cheek.

“Oh, and now you’re crying,” Brin deadpanned. “Even though you don’t care. You don’t care! None of you! Because your lives go on, not even changed without her here.”

Now Arissa’s tears came faster. 

“Brin,” Sierra whispered. “Stop.”

“No.”

“Please—”

“No!” Brin stood up, his breaths coming too quickly. “Don’t tell me what to do. Our friend is dead. She’s gone, forever. Don’t you guys get that?”

“Of course we do,” Sierra said, looking around for support. “Brin, we’re all sad. I know it hurts. But that doesn’t give you the right to tell us we don’t care.”

“You don’t,” Brin snapped.

No one moved. For a moment, it seems as if none of them were even breathing.

Then they heard laughter coming from the lake. “Miss me?”

As one, four eyes snapped to the figure in the water. As one, they realized that it was the first time they’d ever heard Erin’s voice. As one, they remembered the cold face that had been visible inside the casket. When no one answered, Erin giggled again. The sounds that came from her throat couldn’t be human. Her voice was musical, pulsing to a beat only she could hear. “I don’t want you to fight.” At her words, Brin’s anger seemed to fade. Arissa’s desperate tears, Sierra’s frustrated pleas, Jack’s silent fury. 

“You’re dead,” Sierra finally said. Her voice wavered.

“I am?” Erin shrugged. “Guess I’ll go then.” She fell backwards into the water, her dark hair splayed around her head. As it touched the water, it turned a deep blue that somehow looked more natural than the black ever had.

“Wait!” 

Erin sat up, shaking the water from her face. “Come swim with me.”

Brin choked. “You’re dead.” 

Erin sighed, her lower lip coming out in a pout. “Clearly I’m not.”

That was when Jack started laughing. “Crazy,” he muttered. “This is crazy.” He stalked to the edge of the water, still laughing. Erin stood up, her nose only a few inches from his, water dripping down her face. She wore a faded satin dress that was somehow elegant in its ugliness. “How are you alive? Why are you alive?”

“Does it matter?” Erin spoke softly, but something reverberated through the air, twisting like a wind, calm as an autumn river. As her words reached their ears, their hearts decided that no, no it did not matter. “The water is warm, and this is our lake.”

Jack started to take a step forward, but was surprised to find Arissa pulling him back, shaking her head wildly. “No,” she said. “No, no, no, this is all wrong. I think…I think we should go.”

Jack chuckled. “I always knew you were a coward.”

Arissa recoiled as if she’d been slapped. Immediately she was reaching for him again, but the brief moment had been enough. Had been too much. Jack stepped into the water, and as soon as his foot touched the surface he gasped. Erin offered him her hand, and he took it. Then, between one step and the next, he was gone, vanished into the darkness. Erin turned back to the others, baring her teeth in what could perhaps be called a grin.

“Would you like to meet my family?”

“You hate your family,” Brin said, but he didn’t sound sure. And he’d taken a step closer to the water.

Erin shrugged. “The truest love is manifest in hate. I couldn’t realize how much I needed them until I’d lived without them.”

In the time it took her to speak two short sentences, Sierra had made her way from the fire pit to the edge of the lake, so that she was standing exactly where Jack had been only a moment before. Erin extended her hand. Sierra looked back at Brin and Arissa, then took it. She gasped.

Then Erin led her into the water, and she was gone.

“Come swim with me,” Erin said again, her words tugging and pulling, twisting in the air. She laughed, and the sound echoed through the forest. “Brin…Arissa…we’re friends, aren’t we? Why won’t you swim with me?” Jack and Sierra’s voices seemed to float up through the water, garbled but with the same rhythm that Erin’s possessed. “Why won’t you swim with us?”

Arissa’s breath came faster.

Brin took a step.

“Don’t!” Arissa said. “Please, Brin, let’s just go–”

Brin met her eyes. “Let’s swim,” he said. “One short swim with our friends. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Arissa was gasping for breath now, tears streaming down her face. “Stop it,” she whispered. “Please, Brin, don’t—don’t leave me.”

He snorted. “It’s not my fault you’re alone.” Then he, too, was gone.

Erin stood for another moment, watching Arissa.

“I’m not coming,” Arissa said, swallowing.

“Of course you aren’t,” Erin said, again baring her teeth in that expression that was not a smile. “I don’t want you to.”

Arissa ran then. Out of the woods, away from the lake, into her car and back to her apartment. She made it through that night, barely.

She made it through the next days and weeks too. The days and weeks where no one remembered Erin, or Jack, or Sierra, or Brin. The days and weeks where she was completely alone. Where she’d mention the lake, and get only confused looks until she finally pulled out Google maps only to find that there was no lake anywhere near them.

And, finally, to the day where she could bear it no longer, and drove the familiar road up to the lake. She walked the path to their fire pit and sat, but she wasn’t waiting long.

Erin surfaced, her hair blue and silky, her dress the same stained satin. “Four weeks and three days. That might be a record.”

“Don’t make me do this,” Arissa said. She stumbled over the words. “Don’t make me—don’t—people are starting to think I’m crazy.” She chuckled. “I’m not crazy. It’s you. You’re screwing up everything.”

“I’m taking my due,” Erin corrected. 

“Whatever. Take me. Do your…thing. Whatever you did to the others.”

Erin opened her mouth, then stopped, eyes glinting. “I don’t think I will.”

“Wha—”

“I think,” Erin continued firmly, “that I want this to be your choice.”

Arissa froze. She swallowed. Was she really doing this? Was she sure this was what she’d intended when she came here? She closed her eyes, took a breath, then opened them. “Will they remember me? When I’m…gone?”

Erin’s teeth were sharp and icy. “Not telling,” she sang.

Arissa gritted her teeth, struck by her fr—by this creature’s pettiness. 

“Are you coming?” Erin hummed. “Come swimming.” A chorus of voices joined her. “Come swimming, Arissa.”

“Stop it!” Arissa screamed. The voices didn’t stop. So Arissa swallowed her pride, and walked right to the water’s edge. She faced Erin, then stepped into the water. Immediately Erin was pulling her, dragging her deeper. Arissa knew she fell. She knew she screamed. 

Then the water closed over her head, and she didn’t know anything but Erin’s relentless laughter. 

“I win.”

 

[RoyalBeeMage he/him]

31 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

By the Lake:

  Hide contents

None of them were quite sure when they first saw Erin. They all agreed that she was in one of their classes, even if none of them could say quite where she sat, or could quite remember hearing her offer an answer. They all agreed that they met her the same time they met each other, even though the rest of them had at least been acquainted before that night. Perhaps it should have bothered them more than it did, but she was there, and she was Erin, and eventually the whole matter faded completely.

They’d just stepped out of a mind-numbing physics class and were blinking at the sun, as if they hadn’t quite expected it to still be there. 

“Well,” Jack said. Then, because he couldn’t quite remember what should come next, he said it again. “Well.”

By happenstance, Arissa was next to him, and she snorted. “I think I need a drink.” Laughter followed, and she shook her head ruefully. “I meant it. Anyone want to come?” She was always the bravest of them. Much of the class filtered by, mumbling about work or other classes, but not all of them, and so they set off. Somewhere along the way it was mentioned that it was 2 in the afternoon, and so they found themselves in a small cafe rather than a bar.

They shared the amiable comfort of those who had shared classes rather than conversations, but over sandwiches and juice they grew into acquaintances, and maybe something more. Jack was the tallest, Arissa the loudest. Sierra was the most beautiful. Brin noticed everything, and his unfiltered honesty was fast enough that they often wished he didn’t. And Erin. Each assumed one of the others knew her. She never spoke to deny it, or even to offer her name, but in one of her more beautiful mysteries, it wasn’t at all strange or awkward.

“You’re Erin, right?” Sierra said, and Erin nodded, and that was enough. Afterwards, Sierra would swear that she’d never seen Erin before that day. “You have the most gorgeous hair.”

“But you think yours is prettier.” Sierra froze, and Brin winced. “Sorry,” he said. “I, uh…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Arissa said, interrupting what should have been mortifying. “As pretty as you two may be, we all know who the real fashion queen is here.” Everyone blinked, taking a moment to take in the tangled mess masquerading as her ponytail. Then they laughed, and all anger fled.

Erin smiled.

Later, they exchanged phone numbers and split off to their various dorms, promising to meet up again soon. 

Then they forgot. Each of them had difficult classes, and soon the work began to overrun any lingering desire for friendship. After nearly three weeks, though, four phones buzzed across campus. 

 

Erin: I’m headed to the lake tomorrow night…anyone want to come?

 

Four yeses were quickly typed out, and the next night the five of them found themselves surrounded by mountains and stars instead of textbooks and scholars.

“I haven’t seen you around,” Arissa said after they’d finished their greetings. “Skipping class?”

Erin smiled shyly, and the others were suddenly aware that she had traded out of the dull physics class, and would be studying psychology for the foreseeable future. None of them questioned this new knowledge. In fact, none of them even seemed to realize that Erin hadn’t spoken. 

“I should’ve done that,” Jack muttered. “I can never wrap my mind around it all.”

“We should start a study group!” Sierra said. 

“Right,” Brin said, his tone as flat and sarcastic as always. “Without Erin.”

Again, it should have been mortifying. Again, it was not. Erin shrugged, and they understood that it didn’t matter to her, that she wouldn’t be insulted. And so the conversation moved on.

The lake was small, tucked away in the mountains and pine trees. It reflected the moon and stars so perfectly that Sierra gasped upon seeing it for the first time. They followed Erin along a trail that curved around the rim until they reached a place with a fire pit and several logs.

“Too bad we don’t have matches,” Jack said, and Brin and Sierra nodded. 

Arissa grinned. “Maybe we don’t need matches.”

Brin scoffed. “Aren’t you from Dallas? I doubt you know how to start a fire with matches, let alone without.”

“Ouch,” Arissa said, not sounding at all hurt. “But I wasn’t talking about me. Erin can.”

All eyes turned to Erin, who blushed, and conveyed that she could. It bears explaining that she wasn’t speaking “telepathically”. Such things are impossible. She wasn’t talking into their minds or whispering her answers. She simply met their eyes, and they knew what it was she would be saying, if she had spoken. At that point there was no need for her to speak, and so she didn’t. 

“I’ll find wood,” Jack offered.

“Are you sure?” Sierra bit her lip. “We’re pretty much in the middle of nowhere. What if there’s an accident?”

“Don’t worry,” Arissa said. “We’ll be careful.”

So Jack gathered firewood, and Erin started a fire. Aside from Brin’s surprise at how quickly she worked, no one mentioned that she hadn’t rubbed two stones together so much as touched the wood, which started smoking. The fire grew and blazed, and sitting around it the tension seemed to melt away. This far from civilization, it was hard to care about their books and their grades. The future seemed far, far away.

The sun dropped lower and the moon rose higher to the sounds of laughter and stories.

That night ended, as all nights do, but the memories didn’t fade so completely. There were greetings and smiles, lunches and study groups. Erin was occasionally spotted around campus, but was never there when the others were together. In another mystery they refused to question, she was never cut out or forgotten. And in return, whenever things seemed the worst, a text always came through.

 

Erin: Lake tonight?

 

Days and nights spent at the lake blurred together into a beautiful fantasy. And if there was a little less homework on those days then it was only luck. And if the heat of summer seemed to stretch a little longer, then they were only making use of the weather. When Sierra and Jack started dating, the group didn’t splinter or even separate, and they congratulated themselves on being such good friends. When the pair broke up, there was no need to comment on the lack of anger or awkwardness; it was an obvious byproduct of how deep and true their friendships ran.

“Tell us something you’ve never told anyone before,” Arissa said, leaning forward on her bench. “Something that matters.”

Jack whistled softly. “Hard question…who wants to go first?” All eyes were on him, and he winced. “Thanks, guys.” But he stared into the fire, surprisingly thoughtful. “My family doesn’t have much money. Or really any money. They were living on my paychecks, but I wanted more than that life so I came to school. I left them.”

Erin met his eyes and he smiled, comforted by the things she hadn’t said. Then she swallowed and took a breath, and the others understood that they were her first friends. That she didn’t know what she’d do if she were alone again. That her family wanted her to come home, and that she was terrified to go back to them.

A moment of silence. Then, surprisingly, Sierra cleared her throat.

“I never wanted to come to college,” she blurted. “I had my whole life planned out without it. Then my–well–the boy I thought I was going to marry–he broke up with me. He told me I’d never survive without someone else to do all the work, that I wasn’t smart enough to actually succeed alone. So I…I decided to prove him wrong. I don’t know what I’ll do when I graduate. If I graduate. I’m only here out of spite.” 

Arissa spoke next. “I don’t…I mean…” she laughed uncomfortably. “Maybe…right.” A cough. The others watched her without judgment. “I guess I’m not really sure how to say it, but…I’m not brave. Most of the time, I’m really, really scared. Terrified.” The uncomfortable laugh returned. “I feel like I’m going to fall apart.” Now her tone was a whisper, barely audible over the crackling of the flames. “Every day, every hour, every minute. This–this place, by the lake. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt safe.”

The others nodded agreement, understanding in a way that’s only possible when darkness is shared. After a moment, eyes started flicking to Brin. He was staring at the ground, his finger tapping slowly on his knee. “I don’t do things like this,” he said. “But I wish I did. I don’t get close to people. Not my family, not friends, not anyone. I keep trying to figure out why you guys are different, but there’s no reason. Nothing about this should be different than everything else. But it is. And…I’m glad.”

Time kept racing forward. Tests and breaks and days by the lake flew past until all at once they didn’t. It wasn’t that it slowed as much as it crashed to the ground in an abrupt burst of flames, searing everyone with the sudden, unexpected heat. 

Jake got the call first. It was a lazy Sunday morning and he didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?” He said, expecting it to be a telemarketer. Instead, a rich female voice answered him. It was heavily accented, though he couldn’t have said from where. 

“You are Erin’s friend,” she said.

Jack blinked. “I’m one of them, sure…who are you?”

“I am her mother,” the voice said. “There has been an…accident.”

The funeral was frighteningly small. Erin’s parents, several people who must have been family friends, and the four friends. It passed hazily, as if it were a dream they were trying desperately to recall after it had ended. By some unspoken agreement, they all found their way to the lake after extracting themselves uncomfortably from the small gathering.

No one spoke for a long, long time. They sat on their usual logs, looking into the cold fire pit. “This is where it happened,” Jack suddenly blurted. “Her mom said it was a—bear, right? She said—she was walking back from the lake—” he stopped, and no one picked up the slack.

More time passed. No one was quite sure if they were allowed to leave, but no one wanted to be the first to go, and so they sat in uncomfortable silence. 

Arissa pulled her knees up to her chin. “It’s so weird to think. But—apart from the lake—our lives won’t really—I mean—we didn’t actually see her that much—”

Brin scoffed. “Our friend is dead, and all you can think is that it won’t affect our lives.”

Arissa drew in a sharp breath, the tension suddenly thick in the air. Even Brin seemed surprised. This was how he always spoke, after all: blunt, cruel, honest. But it never meant anything. It never caused any harm.

Not until that night. The tension thickened, thickened.

“That’s not what I meant,” Arissa snapped. Her lip started to tremble, and she clenched her teeth. Still, a single tear trickled out and down her cheek.

“Oh, and now you’re crying,” Brin deadpanned. “Even though you don’t care. You don’t care! None of you! Because your lives go on, not even changed without her here.”

Now Arissa’s tears came faster. 

“Brin,” Sierra whispered. “Stop.”

“No.”

“Please—”

“No!” Brin stood up, his breaths coming too quickly. “Don’t tell me what to do. Our friend is dead. She’s gone, forever. Don’t you guys get that?”

“Of course we do,” Sierra said, looking around for support. “Brin, we’re all sad. I know it hurts. But that doesn’t give you the right to tell us we don’t care.”

“You don’t,” Brin snapped.

No one moved. For a moment, it seems as if none of them were even breathing.

Then they heard laughter coming from the lake. “Miss me?”

As one, four eyes snapped to the figure in the water. As one, they realized that it was the first time they’d ever heard Erin’s voice. As one, they remembered the cold face that had been visible inside the casket. When no one answered, Erin giggled again. The sounds that came from her throat couldn’t be human. Her voice was musical, pulsing to a beat only she could hear. “I don’t want you to fight.” At her words, Brin’s anger seemed to fade. Arissa’s desperate tears, Sierra’s frustrated pleas, Jack’s silent fury. 

“You’re dead,” Sierra finally said. Her voice wavered.

“I am?” Erin shrugged. “Guess I’ll go then.” She fell backwards into the water, her dark hair splayed around her head. As it touched the water, it turned a deep blue that somehow looked more natural than the black ever had.

“Wait!” 

Erin sat up, shaking the water from her face. “Come swim with me.”

Brin choked. “You’re dead.” 

Erin sighed, her lower lip coming out in a pout. “Clearly I’m not.”

That was when Jack started laughing. “Crazy,” he muttered. “This is crazy.” He stalked to the edge of the water, still laughing. Erin stood up, her nose only a few inches from his, water dripping down her face. She wore a faded satin dress that was somehow elegant in its ugliness. “How are you alive? Why are you alive?”

“Does it matter?” Erin spoke softly, but something reverberated through the air, twisting like a wind, calm as an autumn river. As her words reached their ears, their hearts decided that no, no it did not matter. “The water is warm, and this is our lake.”

Jack started to take a step forward, but was surprised to find Arissa pulling him back, shaking her head wildly. “No,” she said. “No, no, no, this is all wrong. I think…I think we should go.”

Jack chuckled. “I always knew you were a coward.”

Arissa recoiled as if she’d been slapped. Immediately she was reaching for him again, but the brief moment had been enough. Had been too much. Jack stepped into the water, and as soon as his foot touched the surface he gasped. Erin offered him her hand, and he took it. Then, between one step and the next, he was gone, vanished into the darkness. Erin turned back to the others, baring her teeth in what could perhaps be called a grin.

“Would you like to meet my family?”

“You hate your family,” Brin said, but he didn’t sound sure. And he’d taken a step closer to the water.

Erin shrugged. “The truest love is manifest in hate. I couldn’t realize how much I needed them until I’d lived without them.”

In the time it took her to speak two short sentences, Sierra had made her way from the fire pit to the edge of the lake, so that she was standing exactly where Jack had been only a moment before. Erin extended her hand. Sierra looked back at Brin and Arissa, then took it. She gasped.

Then Erin led her into the water, and she was gone.

“Come swim with me,” Erin said again, her words tugging and pulling, twisting in the air. She laughed, and the sound echoed through the forest. “Brin…Arissa…we’re friends, aren’t we? Why won’t you swim with me?” Jack and Sierra’s voices seemed to float up through the water, garbled but with the same rhythm that Erin’s possessed. “Why won’t you swim with us?”

Arissa’s breath came faster.

Brin took a step.

“Don’t!” Arissa said. “Please, Brin, let’s just go–”

Brin met her eyes. “Let’s swim,” he said. “One short swim with our friends. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Arissa was gasping for breath now, tears streaming down her face. “Stop it,” she whispered. “Please, Brin, don’t—don’t leave me.”

He snorted. “It’s not my fault you’re alone.” Then he, too, was gone.

Erin stood for another moment, watching Arissa.

“I’m not coming,” Arissa said, swallowing.

“Of course you aren’t,” Erin said, again baring her teeth in that expression that was not a smile. “I don’t want you to.”

Arissa ran then. Out of the woods, away from the lake, into her car and back to her apartment. She made it through that night, barely.

She made it through the next days and weeks too. The days and weeks where no one remembered Erin, or Jack, or Sierra, or Brin. The days and weeks where she was completely alone. Where she’d mention the lake, and get only confused looks until she finally pulled out Google maps only to find that there was no lake anywhere near them.

And, finally, to the day where she could bear it no longer, and drove the familiar road up to the lake. She walked the path to their fire pit and sat, but she wasn’t waiting long.

Erin surfaced, her hair blue and silky, her dress the same stained satin. “Four weeks and three days. That might be a record.”

“Don’t make me do this,” Arissa said. She stumbled over the words. “Don’t make me—don’t—people are starting to think I’m crazy.” She chuckled. “I’m not crazy. It’s you. You’re screwing up everything.”

“I’m taking my due,” Erin corrected. 

“Whatever. Take me. Do your…thing. Whatever you did to the others.”

Erin opened her mouth, then stopped, eyes glinting. “I don’t think I will.”

“Wha—”

“I think,” Erin continued firmly, “that I want this to be your choice.”

Arissa froze. She swallowed. Was she really doing this? Was she sure this was what she’d intended when she came here? She closed her eyes, took a breath, then opened them. “Will they remember me? When I’m…gone?”

Erin’s teeth were sharp and icy. “Not telling,” she sang.

Arissa gritted her teeth, struck by her fr—by this creature’s pettiness. 

“Are you coming?” Erin hummed. “Come swimming.” A chorus of voices joined her. “Come swimming, Arissa.”

“Stop it!” Arissa screamed. The voices didn’t stop. So Arissa swallowed her pride, and walked right to the water’s edge. She faced Erin, then stepped into the water. Immediately Erin was pulling her, dragging her deeper. Arissa knew she fell. She knew she screamed. 

Then the water closed over her head, and she didn’t know anything but Erin’s relentless laughter. 

“I win.”

 

Once more you do it again. That took such a dark turn. I loved it! How are you so good at this?

[Edema Rue she/her]

1 hour ago, RoyalBeeMage said:

Once more you do it again. That took such a dark turn. I loved it! How are you so good at this?

Aww, thank you so much! I…uh…practice?

[RoyalBeeMage he/him]

2 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

Aww, thank you so much! I…uh…practice?

i guess i need to try practicing some time... i just don't have anyone who would be willing to give me raw critisisum. 

[Edema Rue she/her]

46 minutes ago, RoyalBeeMage said:

i guess i need to try practicing some time... i just don't have anyone who would be willing to give me raw critisisum. 

Hey, if that’s what you want, I’ll give it to you

…I just finished a part 2 to I’m Not Mad and now I’m like…completely drained, that was very heavy to write. 

[BlueWildRye he/him]

4 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

By the Lake:

  Reveal hidden contents

None of them were quite sure when they first saw Erin. They all agreed that she was in one of their classes, even if none of them could say quite where she sat, or could quite remember hearing her offer an answer. They all agreed that they met her the same time they met each other, even though the rest of them had at least been acquainted before that night. Perhaps it should have bothered them more than it did, but she was there, and she was Erin, and eventually the whole matter faded completely.

They’d just stepped out of a mind-numbing physics class and were blinking at the sun, as if they hadn’t quite expected it to still be there. 

“Well,” Jack said. Then, because he couldn’t quite remember what should come next, he said it again. “Well.”

By happenstance, Arissa was next to him, and she snorted. “I think I need a drink.” Laughter followed, and she shook her head ruefully. “I meant it. Anyone want to come?” She was always the bravest of them. Much of the class filtered by, mumbling about work or other classes, but not all of them, and so they set off. Somewhere along the way it was mentioned that it was 2 in the afternoon, and so they found themselves in a small cafe rather than a bar.

They shared the amiable comfort of those who had shared classes rather than conversations, but over sandwiches and juice they grew into acquaintances, and maybe something more. Jack was the tallest, Arissa the loudest. Sierra was the most beautiful. Brin noticed everything, and his unfiltered honesty was fast enough that they often wished he didn’t. And Erin. Each assumed one of the others knew her. She never spoke to deny it, or even to offer her name, but in one of her more beautiful mysteries, it wasn’t at all strange or awkward.

“You’re Erin, right?” Sierra said, and Erin nodded, and that was enough. Afterwards, Sierra would swear that she’d never seen Erin before that day. “You have the most gorgeous hair.”

“But you think yours is prettier.” Sierra froze, and Brin winced. “Sorry,” he said. “I, uh…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Arissa said, interrupting what should have been mortifying. “As pretty as you two may be, we all know who the real fashion queen is here.” Everyone blinked, taking a moment to take in the tangled mess masquerading as her ponytail. Then they laughed, and all anger fled.

Erin smiled.

Later, they exchanged phone numbers and split off to their various dorms, promising to meet up again soon. 

Then they forgot. Each of them had difficult classes, and soon the work began to overrun any lingering desire for friendship. After nearly three weeks, though, four phones buzzed across campus. 

 

Erin: I’m headed to the lake tomorrow night…anyone want to come?

 

Four yeses were quickly typed out, and the next night the five of them found themselves surrounded by mountains and stars instead of textbooks and scholars.

“I haven’t seen you around,” Arissa said after they’d finished their greetings. “Skipping class?”

Erin smiled shyly, and the others were suddenly aware that she had traded out of the dull physics class, and would be studying psychology for the foreseeable future. None of them questioned this new knowledge. In fact, none of them even seemed to realize that Erin hadn’t spoken. 

“I should’ve done that,” Jack muttered. “I can never wrap my mind around it all.”

“We should start a study group!” Sierra said. 

“Right,” Brin said, his tone as flat and sarcastic as always. “Without Erin.”

Again, it should have been mortifying. Again, it was not. Erin shrugged, and they understood that it didn’t matter to her, that she wouldn’t be insulted. And so the conversation moved on.

The lake was small, tucked away in the mountains and pine trees. It reflected the moon and stars so perfectly that Sierra gasped upon seeing it for the first time. They followed Erin along a trail that curved around the rim until they reached a place with a fire pit and several logs.

“Too bad we don’t have matches,” Jack said, and Brin and Sierra nodded. 

Arissa grinned. “Maybe we don’t need matches.”

Brin scoffed. “Aren’t you from Dallas? I doubt you know how to start a fire with matches, let alone without.”

“Ouch,” Arissa said, not sounding at all hurt. “But I wasn’t talking about me. Erin can.”

All eyes turned to Erin, who blushed, and conveyed that she could. It bears explaining that she wasn’t speaking “telepathically”. Such things are impossible. She wasn’t talking into their minds or whispering her answers. She simply met their eyes, and they knew what it was she would be saying, if she had spoken. At that point there was no need for her to speak, and so she didn’t. 

“I’ll find wood,” Jack offered.

“Are you sure?” Sierra bit her lip. “We’re pretty much in the middle of nowhere. What if there’s an accident?”

“Don’t worry,” Arissa said. “We’ll be careful.”

So Jack gathered firewood, and Erin started a fire. Aside from Brin’s surprise at how quickly she worked, no one mentioned that she hadn’t rubbed two stones together so much as touched the wood, which started smoking. The fire grew and blazed, and sitting around it the tension seemed to melt away. This far from civilization, it was hard to care about their books and their grades. The future seemed far, far away.

The sun dropped lower and the moon rose higher to the sounds of laughter and stories.

That night ended, as all nights do, but the memories didn’t fade so completely. There were greetings and smiles, lunches and study groups. Erin was occasionally spotted around campus, but was never there when the others were together. In another mystery they refused to question, she was never cut out or forgotten. And in return, whenever things seemed the worst, a text always came through.

 

Erin: Lake tonight?

 

Days and nights spent at the lake blurred together into a beautiful fantasy. And if there was a little less homework on those days then it was only luck. And if the heat of summer seemed to stretch a little longer, then they were only making use of the weather. When Sierra and Jack started dating, the group didn’t splinter or even separate, and they congratulated themselves on being such good friends. When the pair broke up, there was no need to comment on the lack of anger or awkwardness; it was an obvious byproduct of how deep and true their friendships ran.

“Tell us something you’ve never told anyone before,” Arissa said, leaning forward on her bench. “Something that matters.”

Jack whistled softly. “Hard question…who wants to go first?” All eyes were on him, and he winced. “Thanks, guys.” But he stared into the fire, surprisingly thoughtful. “My family doesn’t have much money. Or really any money. They were living on my paychecks, but I wanted more than that life so I came to school. I left them.”

Erin met his eyes and he smiled, comforted by the things she hadn’t said. Then she swallowed and took a breath, and the others understood that they were her first friends. That she didn’t know what she’d do if she were alone again. That her family wanted her to come home, and that she was terrified to go back to them.

A moment of silence. Then, surprisingly, Sierra cleared her throat.

“I never wanted to come to college,” she blurted. “I had my whole life planned out without it. Then my–well–the boy I thought I was going to marry–he broke up with me. He told me I’d never survive without someone else to do all the work, that I wasn’t smart enough to actually succeed alone. So I…I decided to prove him wrong. I don’t know what I’ll do when I graduate. If I graduate. I’m only here out of spite.” 

Arissa spoke next. “I don’t…I mean…” she laughed uncomfortably. “Maybe…right.” A cough. The others watched her without judgment. “I guess I’m not really sure how to say it, but…I’m not brave. Most of the time, I’m really, really scared. Terrified.” The uncomfortable laugh returned. “I feel like I’m going to fall apart.” Now her tone was a whisper, barely audible over the crackling of the flames. “Every day, every hour, every minute. This–this place, by the lake. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt safe.”

The others nodded agreement, understanding in a way that’s only possible when darkness is shared. After a moment, eyes started flicking to Brin. He was staring at the ground, his finger tapping slowly on his knee. “I don’t do things like this,” he said. “But I wish I did. I don’t get close to people. Not my family, not friends, not anyone. I keep trying to figure out why you guys are different, but there’s no reason. Nothing about this should be different than everything else. But it is. And…I’m glad.”

Time kept racing forward. Tests and breaks and days by the lake flew past until all at once they didn’t. It wasn’t that it slowed as much as it crashed to the ground in an abrupt burst of flames, searing everyone with the sudden, unexpected heat. 

Jake got the call first. It was a lazy Sunday morning and he didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?” He said, expecting it to be a telemarketer. Instead, a rich female voice answered him. It was heavily accented, though he couldn’t have said from where. 

“You are Erin’s friend,” she said.

Jack blinked. “I’m one of them, sure…who are you?”

“I am her mother,” the voice said. “There has been an…accident.”

The funeral was frighteningly small. Erin’s parents, several people who must have been family friends, and the four friends. It passed hazily, as if it were a dream they were trying desperately to recall after it had ended. By some unspoken agreement, they all found their way to the lake after extracting themselves uncomfortably from the small gathering.

No one spoke for a long, long time. They sat on their usual logs, looking into the cold fire pit. “This is where it happened,” Jack suddenly blurted. “Her mom said it was a—bear, right? She said—she was walking back from the lake—” he stopped, and no one picked up the slack.

More time passed. No one was quite sure if they were allowed to leave, but no one wanted to be the first to go, and so they sat in uncomfortable silence. 

Arissa pulled her knees up to her chin. “It’s so weird to think. But—apart from the lake—our lives won’t really—I mean—we didn’t actually see her that much—”

Brin scoffed. “Our friend is dead, and all you can think is that it won’t affect our lives.”

Arissa drew in a sharp breath, the tension suddenly thick in the air. Even Brin seemed surprised. This was how he always spoke, after all: blunt, cruel, honest. But it never meant anything. It never caused any harm.

Not until that night. The tension thickened, thickened.

“That’s not what I meant,” Arissa snapped. Her lip started to tremble, and she clenched her teeth. Still, a single tear trickled out and down her cheek.

“Oh, and now you’re crying,” Brin deadpanned. “Even though you don’t care. You don’t care! None of you! Because your lives go on, not even changed without her here.”

Now Arissa’s tears came faster. 

“Brin,” Sierra whispered. “Stop.”

“No.”

“Please—”

“No!” Brin stood up, his breaths coming too quickly. “Don’t tell me what to do. Our friend is dead. She’s gone, forever. Don’t you guys get that?”

“Of course we do,” Sierra said, looking around for support. “Brin, we’re all sad. I know it hurts. But that doesn’t give you the right to tell us we don’t care.”

“You don’t,” Brin snapped.

No one moved. For a moment, it seems as if none of them were even breathing.

Then they heard laughter coming from the lake. “Miss me?”

As one, four eyes snapped to the figure in the water. As one, they realized that it was the first time they’d ever heard Erin’s voice. As one, they remembered the cold face that had been visible inside the casket. When no one answered, Erin giggled again. The sounds that came from her throat couldn’t be human. Her voice was musical, pulsing to a beat only she could hear. “I don’t want you to fight.” At her words, Brin’s anger seemed to fade. Arissa’s desperate tears, Sierra’s frustrated pleas, Jack’s silent fury. 

“You’re dead,” Sierra finally said. Her voice wavered.

“I am?” Erin shrugged. “Guess I’ll go then.” She fell backwards into the water, her dark hair splayed around her head. As it touched the water, it turned a deep blue that somehow looked more natural than the black ever had.

“Wait!” 

Erin sat up, shaking the water from her face. “Come swim with me.”

Brin choked. “You’re dead.” 

Erin sighed, her lower lip coming out in a pout. “Clearly I’m not.”

That was when Jack started laughing. “Crazy,” he muttered. “This is crazy.” He stalked to the edge of the water, still laughing. Erin stood up, her nose only a few inches from his, water dripping down her face. She wore a faded satin dress that was somehow elegant in its ugliness. “How are you alive? Why are you alive?”

“Does it matter?” Erin spoke softly, but something reverberated through the air, twisting like a wind, calm as an autumn river. As her words reached their ears, their hearts decided that no, no it did not matter. “The water is warm, and this is our lake.”

Jack started to take a step forward, but was surprised to find Arissa pulling him back, shaking her head wildly. “No,” she said. “No, no, no, this is all wrong. I think…I think we should go.”

Jack chuckled. “I always knew you were a coward.”

Arissa recoiled as if she’d been slapped. Immediately she was reaching for him again, but the brief moment had been enough. Had been too much. Jack stepped into the water, and as soon as his foot touched the surface he gasped. Erin offered him her hand, and he took it. Then, between one step and the next, he was gone, vanished into the darkness. Erin turned back to the others, baring her teeth in what could perhaps be called a grin.

“Would you like to meet my family?”

“You hate your family,” Brin said, but he didn’t sound sure. And he’d taken a step closer to the water.

Erin shrugged. “The truest love is manifest in hate. I couldn’t realize how much I needed them until I’d lived without them.”

In the time it took her to speak two short sentences, Sierra had made her way from the fire pit to the edge of the lake, so that she was standing exactly where Jack had been only a moment before. Erin extended her hand. Sierra looked back at Brin and Arissa, then took it. She gasped.

Then Erin led her into the water, and she was gone.

“Come swim with me,” Erin said again, her words tugging and pulling, twisting in the air. She laughed, and the sound echoed through the forest. “Brin…Arissa…we’re friends, aren’t we? Why won’t you swim with me?” Jack and Sierra’s voices seemed to float up through the water, garbled but with the same rhythm that Erin’s possessed. “Why won’t you swim with us?”

Arissa’s breath came faster.

Brin took a step.

“Don’t!” Arissa said. “Please, Brin, let’s just go–”

Brin met her eyes. “Let’s swim,” he said. “One short swim with our friends. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Arissa was gasping for breath now, tears streaming down her face. “Stop it,” she whispered. “Please, Brin, don’t—don’t leave me.”

He snorted. “It’s not my fault you’re alone.” Then he, too, was gone.

Erin stood for another moment, watching Arissa.

“I’m not coming,” Arissa said, swallowing.

“Of course you aren’t,” Erin said, again baring her teeth in that expression that was not a smile. “I don’t want you to.”

Arissa ran then. Out of the woods, away from the lake, into her car and back to her apartment. She made it through that night, barely.

She made it through the next days and weeks too. The days and weeks where no one remembered Erin, or Jack, or Sierra, or Brin. The days and weeks where she was completely alone. Where she’d mention the lake, and get only confused looks until she finally pulled out Google maps only to find that there was no lake anywhere near them.

And, finally, to the day where she could bear it no longer, and drove the familiar road up to the lake. She walked the path to their fire pit and sat, but she wasn’t waiting long.

Erin surfaced, her hair blue and silky, her dress the same stained satin. “Four weeks and three days. That might be a record.”

“Don’t make me do this,” Arissa said. She stumbled over the words. “Don’t make me—don’t—people are starting to think I’m crazy.” She chuckled. “I’m not crazy. It’s you. You’re screwing up everything.”

“I’m taking my due,” Erin corrected. 

“Whatever. Take me. Do your…thing. Whatever you did to the others.”

Erin opened her mouth, then stopped, eyes glinting. “I don’t think I will.”

“Wha—”

“I think,” Erin continued firmly, “that I want this to be your choice.”

Arissa froze. She swallowed. Was she really doing this? Was she sure this was what she’d intended when she came here? She closed her eyes, took a breath, then opened them. “Will they remember me? When I’m…gone?”

Erin’s teeth were sharp and icy. “Not telling,” she sang.

Arissa gritted her teeth, struck by her fr—by this creature’s pettiness. 

“Are you coming?” Erin hummed. “Come swimming.” A chorus of voices joined her. “Come swimming, Arissa.”

“Stop it!” Arissa screamed. The voices didn’t stop. So Arissa swallowed her pride, and walked right to the water’s edge. She faced Erin, then stepped into the water. Immediately Erin was pulling her, dragging her deeper. Arissa knew she fell. She knew she screamed. 

Then the water closed over her head, and she didn’t know anything but Erin’s relentless laughter. 

“I win.”

 

Moral of the story:

1. Actually check in on your friends and treat them all equally

2. DON'T GO SWIMMING

[Edema Rue she/her]

8 hours ago, WildRye said:

Moral of the story:

1. Actually check in on your friends and treat them all equally

2. DON'T GO SWIMMING

XDDD

3. don’t accidentally make friends with creepy sirens.

 

OKAY GUYS HI I wrote a part 2 to I’m Not Mad last night, I don’t have the energy to redo all the italics on the shard so I’m just going to link the Google doc…it has the full thing on there, if you already read the first part just scroll down to part 2…Heeheehee I’m so happy with it.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/16M5YsC7bIUTvlfp0y34sysirhzhiRRgs2lsCdwPo_GM/edit
 

  

[Just a Silvereye he/him]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I HATE YOU

ITS AMAZING