#The Ember Blade Archives

[nevermore-grimes]

HOLY SHIT!!! I’M LITERALLY SHAKING OMG!!! I FOUND THEM!!! I FOUND MY OLD PARACOSM NOTEBOOKS!!!

Oh my god, I thought I was gonna throw up… Oh my god…

It’s gonna take me ages to digitize them, but I took pictures of all the pages so I didn’t have to get caught with the real copies (it took me, like, an hour and I was sick with anxiety the whole time).

So, please enjoy some really old arts that I drew of some of my paras (terrible art warning below the cut, lmaooo!).

*NOTE*: Since these designs are old, they do not exactly reflect how each of the paras depicted look today.

[kaihuntrr]

part twenty-five: the huntsman.

Martyn makes a run for it.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

In. Out.

Breathe.

Martyn took ragged breaths as he forced his numb legs to move. Step by step he forced himself forward as the night’s haunting and slow winds turned sour and blistering as it turned against them and blew smoke into their path. His pace was sluggish. The others had to periodically stop to check on him or drag him over a particularly rough patch of terrain.

He was slowing them down.

At least they were all going to make it out together, right? Martyn nodded to himself. Think positive thoughts. It’d serve them best if they could just keep thinking positive thoughts.

“We’re nearly out!” Puffy grinned, as she ran just a couple steps behind Katherine, who had been leading the group back through the forest. “Come on, let’s go!”

Martyn’s heart raced. He couldn’t see much smoke- at least not yet- but he could smell hints of it from behind. Charred wood, flickers of ember, burnt grasses and flowers- all leading to a bright blaze. He had to move faster. They all did. 

They had to move. 

They had to leave. 

They had to move! 

They had to leave–!

Martyn looked straight ahead, trying to quiet the rampant thoughts in his head as he swore his pace grew more sluggish. His breaths were labored as he attempted to keep up with the others. His vision ran blurry as he felt his heart explode in his chest. 

Then he tumbled. 

Martyn fell on the ground with a harsh thud, groaning as he looked behind him. 

A thick root wrapped around his left boot. Martyn attempted to move- get his foot free from the boot at least- but he couldn’t. He swore he could feel the roots almost dig into his boot…!

He looked around, preparing to scream for help, but saw the glint of metal on his belt.

Right! Martyn thought. The knife!

He sat up, twisting his body to reach for the knife the stranger had given him. He leaned in close to the roots, cutting it free from his boot as he periodically looked around him. 

Martyn nearly jumped as a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders. “Martyn!” Grian shouted. His eyes widened at the thick roots on Martyn’s boot and pulled out his gun. “Don’t worry, I’ll–!”

“You’re only going to make that worse!” Katherine cut in, glancing at Grian and Martyn. Her eyes rested on the knife for a split second, then she shook her head. “Leave him with me. The rest of you should go on ahead.”

“Are you sure?!” Tubbo chimed in. “We could get out of here together–”

“And risk the fire catching us first?” Katherine’s voice grew louder, more stern. “We’ll get out of here, now GO!”

Katherine crouched down beside Martyn as the others ran.

“Jeez, you got yourself pretty stuck there!” She laughed. The bright smile on her face eased Martyn’s breathing. She was calm. He should be calm, too. She pulled out her sword and began to slice away at the thick roots with ease. “Come on, help me get you out.”

The two of them made quick work with the roots. Martyn cut through the roots closest to his boot while Katherine chipped away at the sides. He couldn’t help but notice how often she glanced at the knife as she worked away at cutting him out.

Katherine let out a sigh of relief as she sheathed her sword, standing up and reaching her hand out to Martyn. “We should walk a little,” she said, looking around. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at the forest, staring off at the direction they ran from. “I don’t think you can manage running if your ankle’s all twisted.”

Martyn took Katherine’s hand, “You’re probably right.” He stood up, but the moment he placed pressure on his left foot, he stumbled almost immediately. He would’ve fallen, if not for Katherine catching him at the last second. The fall caused his knife to slip out of his hand, thudding against the dry grass.

Martyn noticed Katherine’s slow look towards the blade and narrowing her eyes. “...Is something wrong with it?” 

“N-No. Nothing’s wrong.” Katherine quickly replied. She wrapped one of her arms around Martyn’s waist and the other on his arm, lifting him up as she walked closer to the knife. She was eerily quiet. “...Where did you get this from?”

“Someone gave it to me.”

Katherine leaned down to pick up the blade, turning it over to examine all of the details Martyn assumed she was able to see. 

Martyn assumed the stranger had given him a regular combat knife, but….

It definitely wasn’t normal.

There were some scratch patterns on the knife’s blade, definitely intentional as it was almost glowing in this strange teal light. The butt of the knife had a small and pretty iridescent scale. 

Katherine mumbled something under her breath.

“Katherine…?”

She didn’t move.

“Katherine!”

She stared at the knife with her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Katherine, the fire’s getting closer!”

That woke her up. 

Katherine suddenly jerked into motion. She stooped down so quickly that Martyn nearly lost his balance. But in one smooth motion she was upright again, shoving the hilt of the knife into his hand. “Take care of that. The someone who gave it to you must care about you a whole lot.”

Martyn wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but Katherine didn’t give him time to contemplate. She dragged him forward by the arm around his back, forcing him to either limp along with her or fall on his face. 

Martyn shoved the knife into its sheath and did his best to walk while not putting weight on his injured ankle, though it was feeling better already.

The two of them moved quickly. Over the course of Katherine’s dragging, Martyn eventually found his footing. One foot after the other, he followed behind Katherine as they left the forest. Martyn couldn’t help but notice the distant stare on her face as they left. Her mind was probably clouded from her thoughts on that knife. 

But he couldn’t think about that now.

Not when they were so close to the exit.

Martyn nearly shouted in relief as he stepped out of the forest and into the now somewhat comforting mist of Crescent Bay’s outskirts. He didn’t like the thought of finding this place comforting. This entire island was out to get him. Get everyone.

But he froze as he heard the rumble of thunder. 

Rain.

The thought of being burned alive in the forest was already plaguing his mind. Even if the thought was slowly disappearing from his mind, he could feel the embers pricking his skin. He could almost feel the cold droplets of rain hitting his skin, even if the clouds hadn’t opened to a storm. He didn’t want to get drenched. He didn’t want beasts to come at him. He didn’t want a bigger target pointed at his back.

“We need to go!” Katherine shouted, as if she could hear Martyn’s panic. He could hear her panic through her words and through her actions as she grabbed his wrist and ran quickly. Martyn nearly stumbled to catch up to her as they ran into town.

Thunder continued to rumble above their heads, brief flashes of lightning passing through clouds as Katherine and Martyn entered the oddly comforting old town. Martyn shouldn’t get used to it, considering that they were leaving as soon as they got to port. 

The town was dark, but it was still bright enough to see the streets around them. Martyn’s heart leapt as he could hear the distant sound of the sea. Oh, how he missed that salty sea air, the passing tides that rolled lazily against the ship, the cool air of the ocean flowing around him. 

And the adrenaline of taking a new monster down.

Though this whole venture of just escaping the island and being chased down by a witch was enough of an adrenaline rush as it could be. Martyn was too busy running for life to really register that they were escaping one life-threatening event and heading straight into another. On top of that, they were running away from a fight instead of engaging with it- and they had a whole other crew to deal with! It felt like the world was constantly shoving them down with so many things to do, they couldn’t even focus on their main goal!

But….

Something odd stuck out to Martyn as he and Katherine rushed through the streets.

There was mist.

The only time there was mist was when…

Pearl wasn’t here already, was she? That was impossible. 

Martyn looked behind him. No signs of anything. Then how come there was…

Martyn saw Katherine start to pull away from him when he slowed down to look back. He couldn’t dive deep into his thoughts again. He had to continue. He had to catch up.

“Katherine! Martyn!” Martyn’s eyes lit up as he heard Scar call from a distance down the misty street, waving the two over to him and Grian. He was barely visible through the mist, but as they grew closer Martyn saw him give them a relieved smile. He and Katherine stopped in front of him as they caught their breath. “You’ve made it!”

“Of course!” Katherine grinned, smacking Martyn’s shoulder and pulling him in for a quick hug. “He’s just fine.”

Grian and Scar smiled back, but Martyn’s eyes narrowed as he looked around. Grian and Scar had met them next to a building, some type of closed down general store with its front porch stacked with wooden crates and a hanging sign, but Cleo and the Kites were nowhere to be seen. Martyn glanced at Katherine, who appeared just as confused as he was.

“Where are the others?” Martyn asked.

“They went ahead,” Grian tilted his head to the empty streets before them, the path growing more shrouded underneath the haze of the unnatural mist. “Scar and I wanted to stay here and wait for you two.”

At least that’s more people safe on the ship. I hope they’re alright. 

Martyn stared down the path before them, a shiver crawled up his spine.

I hope they make it to the ship.

“Thank you, Grian, Scar.” Martyn nodded at his fellow Canaries. He may have been overthinking about things, but it never hurt to be courteous. Grian and Scar should have gone with them, but traveling in groups sounded better than traveling in pairs.

“I think we’re far enough from the fire to just walk. I don’t think it’ll burn far past the forest and I assume we’re all tired,” Grian began to walk, leading the group, “Besides, with all this mist, we could bump into something.”

“Yeah…,” Martyn glanced behind him again. Still nothing. He narrowed his eyes and sighed, “Let’s… take it easy.”

Just like any other time he’s been walking around this place, it was as silent as ever. Martyn longed for the ambience of a living city once more. To pass by distant conversations, to hear laughter in the streets where locals walked and ran around town to get where they needed to be. The residents here might as well have been dead with how silently eerie they were. Judgemental stares. Hollow expressions. If it hadn’t been for Pearl taking him, the Canaries would have been long gone by then.

The only ‘reassuring’ sound of life was the sporadic thunder and wind howling above them. The wind sifted through some of the mist, clearing away the hazy veils for the group to walk through. Martyn focused on his heartbeat and breathing with each step, his hands prematurely curled into tight fists in case they encountered Pearl.

He had attempted to feel for his gun, but sighed as he realized Pearl had likely broken or tossed it when she took him. Just how much strength did that lady have? She had knocked him out in a single hit he hadn't even seen, then dragged his dead weight who knew how far through the forest, and hauled him into a chair. Martyn grimaced at the thought of how helpless he'd been under her hands, unconscious and weaponless. He reached towards the small of his back so he could feel the strange knife's hilt against his hand.

“We’ve learned a couple of things about the Kites while you were gone,” Grian’s voice drew Martyn back into the real world. Martyn must’ve been gone for a good while for the two groups to be all buddy-buddy, but that was preferable to them being at each other’s throats. “Apparently, the ocean at the world border was just as empty to them as when we found it.”

Martyn’s thoughts ground to a halt as his mind immediately flashed to the image of the sea prince.

The world border was empty, practically nothing but smooth sailing.

But there had been a sea prince.

It wouldn’t be too far-fetched to assume it ate everything in there. He’d seen it eat the scuttler. The hairs on Martyn’s arms rose. Maybe the monster didn’t eat him because it was too full to eat him. Martyn was saved because the beast didn’t bother to eat him due to its full belly. Or maybe he was just too small….

He had to think of something else.

Martyn zoned back to the conversation. “O-oh?” he looked at the vagabond hunter unmasked with curiosity. “Hey- Katherine, how did the Kites’ ship get destroyed?”

“A boneback got us.” Katherine shrugged, “it was swarmed by scuttlers after, but we hadn’t seen another beast otherwise. The Kites were all pretty disappointed.”

Scar glanced at Grian with a teasing grin. “Maybe they got all scared when we arrived.” Grian shook his head, rolling his eyes with a small smile he didn’t really try to hide.

Martyn wanted to talk about the sea prince right then and there, but he closed his mouth and shook his head. He didn’t know how to explain his feelings yet. He couldn’t formulate the proper sentences in his head yet either. 

“Ha! Like you guys are that formidable,” Katherine laughed a little before shaking her head. “I try not to think about it as much, though. I’m only thankful there weren’t any deaths.”

No deaths? That confirmed that the sea prince really didn’t eat the other hunters because of its…. 

“Wait,” Scar paused, also stopping abruptly in his walk as he stared at the ground cross-eyed and looking at Katherine, perplexed. “So a boneback destroyed your ship, but it didn’t attack you at all?”

Katherine paused, looking up at the cloudy sky and hummed. “Nope, not at all,” she said casually. “Maybe it’s just a thing for the monsters at the world border.”

“That’s a little strange, isn’t it?”

Katherine shrugged. “Yeah, but,” she crossed her arms, “you’re also probably thinking about it a little too hard.”

Martyn tilted his head. “How?”

“No one’s really studied the beasts beyond the world border, let alone near it,” Katherine said flippantly. “Who knows, maybe the way they kill hunters off around here is with starvation or something.” She mumbled, her eyes staring at the ground.

An odd chill ran down his spine. 

“It’s a little morbid, but do you see what I’m getting at?” He could hear Katherine continue to speak as Scar and Grian looked at each other with some kind of knowing expression and nodded.

“Maybe we should try and investigate the world border more often…,” Grian muttered, but Katherine quickly shook her head in reply.

“I’d strongly suggest against it,” Katherine glanced at Grian. “You may have been lucky now, but what about later? Maybe the monsters do swarm, and you just got lucky the other day.”

“Or if a sea prince lurked by.” Martyn felt hot as the trio’s eyes landed on him. The words had fallen out of his mouth faster than he could even think of them. “It- it would just scare all the beasts away, right?”

Katherine shifted uncomfortably.

Katherine was the first to speak after a long pause. “...I guess? That is a… possible explanation.” she spoke slowly, like the gears in the back of her head turned as she made sense of Martyn’s words. “But no one’s ever seen a sea prince before, so I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that! You’re going to see one soon.”

The group froze as they heard Pearl’s voice. Martyn slowly turned around. He saw Pearl standing in the center of the mist filled street, staring at them with her menacing grin and casual stance. She didn’t look like she had been affected by the fire at all– nothing indicated she had nearly gotten burnt alive. She looked exactly the same.

“Pearl!” Martyn glared at the witch. “How did you–”

Pearl stepped forward. “I told you, I have my ways. Now,” she pulled out one of her sickles and pointed it at Martyn. “You are coming with me.” she hissed, venom dripping into her voice. 

“I think I’d rather risk the sea,” Martyn spat. “RUN!”

The four of them took off down the street as fast as they could run. Scar pulled ahead, his mechanical legs built to have extra bounce in them, with the lightweight and light footed Grian right on his heels. Martyn felt left behind even after a moment, his injured ankle twinging as his foot jolted when it hit the pavement. But Katherine stayed at his side, even though he knew she could run faster than that.

Pearl groaned. She started to run, picking up the speed as she inched closer and closer to Martyn with both of her blades unsheathed. “Oh no you–”

Katherine suddenly lurched backwards and caught Pearl in a chokehold, nearly pulling her off her feet.

Katherine sent both of them down on the ground, letting Pearl absorb the fall as the hunter’s arm wrapped around the witch’s neck. Pearl’s face collided in the pavement first, her sickles skidding away over the road as she attempted to roll out and get Katherine off her back. Katherine retaliated by shifting her weight over top of Pearl, tightening her arm around Pearl’s throat.

“Go! Run! I’ll catch up!” Katherine shouted. Pearl wriggled underneath her, but Katherine kept the witch pinned. Martyn had stopped running the moment he realized Katherine left his side. He stood in place, frozen. Katherine looked over her shoulder and met his eyes. “Martyn! Go!”

Martyn flinched at his name being called. What was he supposed to do? Help Katherine? But before he fully registered the motion, he was moving, following her orders. Martyn turned and left her there.

Martyn ran. He watched as Grian and Scar disappeared into the mist and his own sluggish attempts to keep up. It was hard to put pressure on his foot, as he could feel himself tumbling with each step he took. If only he wasn’t so careless, he wouldn’t have tripped in the first place!

He could feel the pain on his ankle worsen, his thoughts running rampant in his mind as his heartbeat drummed in his ears. But he had to keep running. He had to make it back to the ship. 

And since Katherine was able to get a proper hit on Pearl, she could make it too! She just had to!

 He could’ve even ran right past the ship with all the fog by now, though– it was a miracle he hadn’t tripped yet–! “Hey,” Katherine bumped Martyn’s shoulder. She was here! She glanced behind, then looked forward. “Nothing to worry about for now, let’s go!”

Martyn’s adrenaline kicked in as he attempted to follow Katherine’s pace, but the hunter was much faster than he was.

Pearl’s enraged shriek echoed in the distance, but Katherine gave Martyn a reassuring smile as they bolted through the streets.

Before Martyn could reply, Katherine continued to speak. “We shouldn’t be too far from port,” she put a hand to her ear and giggled. “Listen for the ocean. You might hear it before we reach it!”

With the whole ‘running for their lives’ event going on, Katherine was remarkably calm. Martyn glanced at her, seeing a confident grin on her face as she ran forward. Martyn smiled, feeling something building up in his chest as he ran. It was confidence, comradery. He finally believed that they would all make it out of here alive. If Katherine was so confident, then he should be too.

Maybe… he could convince her to join the Canaries’ crew. She’d fit right in.

Left, right, twist and turn, they were making progress. Martyn couldn’t even hear Pearl anymore, but he wasn’t sure whether to consider that a good thing or not. Katherine kept glancing behind them every so often but just kept pushing forward. They navigated through the misty streets of Crescent Bay, somehow not running into anything.

“How are you so calm through all this?!”

“Honestly, I’m not sure,” Katherine forced a laugh, shaking her head. “I think I’m just so used to the chase that it doesn’t bother me anymore.”

How much running had she done? Whenever Martyn was on a chase, it was usually by ship. He would barely need to run after his targets, just enough energy to run around a boat. Katherine’s lungs must be really strong to have all that air in her.

Martyn looked at Katherine and smiled, saying through heavy gasps, “I’m glad you’re here with me, Katherine.”

Katherine’s eyes widened as she stared at him for a split second, several emotions flashing across her face too quickly for Martyn to read, then she smiled and nodded. “Likewise.”

“Just a little further…!” Martyn felt his legs about to give up, but his heart sank first.

Martyn and Katherine abruptly stopped as they were faced with a wall at the end of the street they’d taken. Some unlit torches rested on the sides of the alleyway, boxes haphazardly placed on top of each other as vines grew out from the top of the wall and reached the bottom. The wall was made out of concrete. He looked up, seeing a small balcony with a couple of crates on top. But it seemed too high to jump too. There was nowhere left for them to go….

Martyn’s heartbeat drummed out of his chest as he tried to catch his breath and think, but his breathing quickly became rapid and panicked as he heard Pearl’s footsteps faintly echoing from the far end of the dead end street. 

It had definitely been better to not hear Pearl earlier.

Pearl ran one of her sickles against a wooden wall of one of the buildings at the end of the street, the metal scraping against wood as she came closer. Then she stood before them, at the far end of the street, blocking their only exit. “Can’t run from me now, can you?” she asked as she slowly walked down the street, her eyes’ piercing gaze focused solely on Martyn.

“Get behind me.” Katherine pulled out her sword and stepped in front of Marytn.

“I- I can fight for myself, Katherine.” Martyn pleaded, wishing he could believe it himself. He didn’t want a person’s blood on his hands. 

“After all the trouble you’ve been through?” Katherine shook her head and took a step forward. “I suggest you save your energy. We still need to make it to the ship.”

“Aww, a hunter sticking up for other hunters,” Pearl rolled her eyes, pretending to gag at the sight. She spun her sickles around and sighed, “You’re giving me a lot of trouble, Hunter, and quite frankly, I’m not sure it’s worth it.”

“Like you haven’t been causing enough havoc,” Katherine snapped, sounding irritated rather than angry. “Why do you want Martyn so badly?”

“He’s Chromia’s little pet,” Pearl hissed, taking another step forward as the sickle scratched the wall. “I’m doing him a favor. I’m helping him. He’ll be better once that insect is gone and he’s done feeling sorry for it.” She pointed her sickle at Martyn as she called him an insect. 

Katherine suddenly went very still. Even as she moved, she seemed still. Her back straightened and her head turned, eyes widened as she glanced from Pearl to Martyn. Martyn saw something in her eyes, something not quite like pity and not quite like fear, but between those two. The grip on her sword trembled as she seemingly forced herself to take in shaky breaths. She shook her head and let out a long, deep breath, looking forward with a calm expression.

“Martyn,” Katherine whispered, just barely audible, “You should be able to scale that wall, right?”

Martyn looked behind him, cataloging the contents cluttering the dead end with that in mind. Boxes. Vines. Enough for the both of them to scramble over.

“Yeah–,” Martyn cut himself off. Wait. She- she’d said ‘you’- Martyn, not ‘we’. No. No no no. She could not be serious. Martyn placed his hand on Katherine’s shoulder. “Katherine, do not play the hero.”

“Keep going, Martyn,” Katherine said, a bit too quietly. “Remember who you’re hunting for.”

Remember who you’re hunting for.

But– Katherine had taken Pearl down with a quick choke before! Granted, that had been by surprise, but that meant that Katherine was a better fighter… right? She seriously could not be planning to–

“You need to get out of here,” Katherine moved her shoulder away from Martyn, her gaze locked on Pearl as the two stared each other down. “I’ll catch up.” Martyn was about to retort, but Katherine cut him off. “If I don’t,” she mumbled, her voice shaking, “sail on without me.”

“But–”

“I have a gun,” Katherine’s grip on her sword became stable, her breaths slower and heartbeat calmed. “If I shoot three times in the air, you go. Promise that to me.”

“Katherine, don’t–”

“Promise me, Martyn!” Katherine raised her voice. She didn’t look at him. Martyn’s heart twisted.

“Okay… I- I promise….”

Katherine cast one last look at Martyn, as she charged forward.

“You cannot be serious,” Pearl hissed, then she raised her sickle to meet Katherine’s blade, “But fine. If that’s how you want to play… come at me, Hunter!”

Martyn ran to the wall as fast as he could with the sound of blades clanging against each other. His heart pumped him with adrenaline as he reached it, steeling himself to look up at the wall instead of the fight behind him. He couldn’t look back. He shouldn’t.

Metal scraped against metal, producing the metallic screeches as Martyn desperately stumbled on the boxes and climbed the vines, hauling himself up the side of the wall.

Then, he climbed all the way up. 

Martyn wanted to collapse, the exhaustion from the climb and the running beforehand taking its toll on his body, but he knew that if he stopped now, Pearl would get him. 

But his heart froze as he heard the familiar sound of metal distantly skidding against the ground, and a sudden silence.

Martyn risked a glance.

Katherine breathed heavily, pointing her sword at Pearl, who looked to be just as exhausted as she was.

Martyn stared at Pearl, watching blood drip from a small cut on her forehead.

That… that wasn’t… That wasn’t blood. It couldn’t be blood. It was hard to see against the darkness, but if Martyn squinted his eyes hard enough, he could make out a faint tint of yellow… but no… it can’t be.

“Oh you’re in for it now.” Pearl’s eyes were wide as a grin crept up her face. 

Martyn needed to get out of there. Now.

“MARTYN! GO!” Katherine roared at him. Martyn flung himself over the side of the wall, wincing a bit as his ankle twinged. But he forced himself up and started running. Katherine’s voice drifted after him, much softer than before, “Don’t look back, Martyn.”

Katherine’s final words were what pushed him to get out as fast as he could. Martyn ran, his chest heaving as he made his way across the last strip of street and back onto the familiar feeling dock. 

He had to get on the ship. 

He had to return to his friends.

He had to get back home.

He had to fulfill his promise to Scott.

He heard the clang of metal blades ringing through the mist-thick air. But Martyn did not look back.

[edelgarfield]

show me how ruin makes a home (4/4)

Relationships: Astarion/The Dark Urge, Lae'zel/Shadowheart, The Dark Urge & Shadowheart, Astarion & Lae'zel Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Chapter Excerpt:

“I was raised to be a blade, to serve my queen until my dying breath.” The corners of her mouth tighten. “I was never taught anything aside from Vlaakith’s will.” A chill runs down Astarion’s spine, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Lae’zel’s eyes dart away, burning gold in the low light. “I find myself tormented by desire like never before, visions that have no place inside a a weapon forged from steel.” Astarion follows her gaze to Shadowheart’s tent, the flap closed to shield the cleric from the campfire’s final embers. Astarion can’t help the incredulous laugh that bursts out of his chest. “Lae’zel, are you asking me for relationship advice?”

Continue on AO3

[saunne]

“Won’t you look at me, Ren ?”

He gulped. 

“Look at them, Ren,” Yingxing snapped, unintentionally drawing Ren's attention to himself. His voice echoed throughout the room, warm as dying embers and resounding like the crash of a hammer on metal. Imposing, commanding even, and allowing no refusal. Not angry but full of bruised pride, of wounded incomprehension.

Yingxing's eyes looked cold from where he stood in the shadows of the hangings, an indecipherable look on his haughty face as he observed them. His gaze had lost the warmth it had when he had helped Blade earlier. Blade, with clenched jaw and gnashing teeth whose gaze had never left Yinyue-jun. Blade, with eyes that kept promising violence and destruction despite its iron will weakened by Ren's inner pleas, wanting a little more, a little longer, just a little more time. Yingxing, that somehow seemed disappointed with Ren's weakness and his state of being so pitifully weak that he couldn't even—

(I never dared to dream of taking my eyes off them, Yingxing seemed to say. Not when their sole attention was always on me, although I never deserved it. I am not you, but you have been me, are me. Don't you dare turn away from them.)

[writingnocturne]

burning, cold, and anger :3

To Be Born of Many Hearts

Notes

Thank you for the first ask, Flora!! :) I'm surprised (but really grateful) to already have gotten around 5 or so! <3 Your three words had a lot of angst potential, and the first thing that came to mind was this (which I'm actually splitting into two one-shots, as it lined up with another idea I had on the back-burner and need to get back to). This is based on a mix of the Skyward Sword manga from the Hyrule Historia as well as the lore from the game, with a few nods to some other things there... Those of you who know my personal Hylia headcanons may know where this is leading, but I wanted to keep it vague for a level of mystery! :)

Sneak Peek

《 The skies tremble.

A spirit lingers on the steps towards a glistening temple. The flame of poes— the hearts of all beating together to create his form— spark from his body and reflect on every blade of grass. With his breath, the forest breeze flows… yet, even still, the air hangs heavy.

This place is typically one of gentle warmth. It is one of beautiful tears, like those shed while relishing the splendor of a simple sunrise. In the coming twilight, however, there flickers embers of a golden wrath.

Although he is present wherever humanity shares their own spirits— their courage, their hopes, their strength— he tries to ground himself to this entrance. He forbids his endless soul, just for a time, to keep its distance. The spirit is lesser than what transpires within, after all, and not even the mortals that often call this place home are permitted to trespass now. 》

Ao3 Link

Word Count: 1,022

Prompt Post

This is for a little ask game I'm doing for short fics! You just send me three words and I'll write from them! See the full post here.

[silverstarstrike]

"Brothers Under the Sun" ☼ Chapter 1

Crow was a lone Lightbearer tormented by the sins of his past life. Faolan, the Young Wolf, knew about the sins of the Forsaken Prince and knew it became personal. As the shadows of inner demons both Lightbearers had, they would find kindred spirits within each other and a brotherhood begins. Like any relationship, however, there will always be challenges.

☼ Prologue ☼

The forest was holding its breath. Nary a bird or insect would make a sound. The scent of smoke thickened the air around Faolan. The edges of their robes were blackened and burned. Their knuckles whitened under their dark gloves as they gripped a fiery sword. In front of them, an oak tree’s bark was stripped clean off by the blade, revealing the darkened insides.

Faolan threw their helmet to the side, a clear crack streaked across the dark visor like lightning in a stormy night sky. Their unkempt brown hair bristled, and rings of orange light shone around their pupils, creating two perfect solar eclipses.

“YAAAAAAAAAAGH!” Faolan let out a pitiful battle cry. Their voice was hoarse, and their throat strained.

The Warlock struck against the oak. Some lands hit precisely, ash and bark flying out with every impact. Most, however, landed clumsily. Their grip weakened, their footing slipped, and they landed knees-first next to the tree. Faolan managed to anchor themselves by leaning on it before they dropped their sword. It disappeared in mid-air.

After a minute, Faolan’s Ghost would finally show himself. His shell slightly twitched at the sight of his Guardian. He hasn’t seen them that ragged since the Red War. His one eye blinked when he heard them coughing. He didn’t need to scan them to see their lungs straining under usage. He slowly floated over to meet them. Another ragged cough, and the Ghost could see Faolan cough up flecks of embers. The rings of light in the Warlock’s eyes dimmed only slightly.

The sound of cawing caught the pair’s attention. Faolan would bristle up again as they would struggle to stand up. They stared at a black crow that just so happened to be making a racket up on top of an unscathed tree

Read the rest on Archive of Our Own ☼ "Brothers Under the Sun" - Prologue

[sidhelives]

Chapter 11: Never Betray the Dark Brotherhood or its Secrets

"So you are alive. I was starting to wonder." Nazir jogged to her side, sheathing his blade.

Diem nodded, her mouth set in a furious line. "The Oculatus knew I was coming. It was all a trap. We were set up."

"Considering most of us are now dead, I assumed as much. And before you ask, no -- I don't think it was you." He coughed, wiping the smoke from his eyes. "Well, maybe I did, but you saving my sorry hide just now sort of erased any doubts. So thanks."

Behind him, the stairs to the sleeping quarters collapsed in a shower of embers, making them both jump.

"We need to get out of here!" Diem growled, looking back the way she had come. It had been clear moments before, but with the state of the Sanctuary, it may not remain so for long.

Nazir followed her gaze and started in that direction. "You've got that right. Only a matter of time before we're roasted alive. You most of all. Come on!"

Around them the timbers creaked and groaned, the sound chasing them out through the winding caves which were, Diem noted unhappily, supported by wooden beams. The main chamber opened up before them, the destruction more palpable now that the vengeful bloodlust had faded. Everything that could catch fire was burning, flames licking the high ceiling and choking the air with deadly fumes. Nazir struck ahead, running for the stairway that led out, but Diem caught his arm, pulling him back.

"Nazir, the forge!" She shouted, a moment before it exploded. They covered their faces as razor-sharp shrapnel ripped through the air, the force of the explosion knocking them off their feet.

Coughing violently, Nazir rolled up to a knee, squinting through the smog towards the exit. "Damn it all," he growled. The way was blocked, the blast knocking loose massive stones between them and the stair. While the boulders may have been maneuverable under normal circumstances, in the current conditions Diem and Nazir would not last long enough to do so. Even stalling her breathing, the toxic air seeped into Diem's lungs, making them itch, and Nazir was coughing furiously.

"There has to be another—" Diem shouted above the roar of the fire, her voice cutting off as a cascade of vibrations rang through her skull like it were a gong.

"Listener," the Night Mother's voice reverberated behind Diem's eyes. "I am your only salvation. Come. Embrace me."

Full Chapter:

[awriterofdivinedreams]

Blade of Evil’s Bane (14 words) by AWriterOfDivineDreams Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Master Sword - Character, Fi (Legend of Zelda) Additional Tags: Haiku-esque, Poetry, Character Study, Not Beta Read, Contains Author’s Commentary in the Notes, Consensual Servitude, Consensual Abandonment, Bittersweet Series: Part 17 of Overture of Poems – A Legend of Zelda Poetry Collection Summary: “Whether skyward bound, adrift in time, or steeped in the glowing embers of twilight… The sacred blade is forever bound to the soul of the Hero. […] Over the seas of time and distance, when we need the golden power of the Goddess, our hope rests in you, to be forever by the Hero's side.” – Princess Zelda from Breath of the Wild

Happy anniversary Breath of the Wild!*

[nevermore-grimes]

Why did middle school me write Nevermore as such a cringefail loser? 😭

[ascianblood]

Eva Lore (FFXIV) - 6/15/23

A dump of lore for my FFXIV au oc Evangeline for my own archival. Not to be mistaken for Alaqa, who is the canonical version of Eva. TRIGGER WARNING FOR: Mentions of mental and physical torment, suicide, and homicide. 

Basic Information: Evageline Kagon (born Alaqa Kagon). 25 years old. Au Ra, Xaela. 4′9.  Alaqa was as any other Kagon tribeswoman, who spent most of her time under the cover of the night hunting beasts for meal and sport. She was very good with blades, but preffered her dual knives over a more traditional spear. She was so remarkable with her blades that the tribe often relied on her to bring back game from hunts and prepare them accordingly. There isn’t much to mention about her childhood or family, but they were stable and very close. She had one older brother, Orin, and two younger brothers, Dei and Dodai. I’ll probably make a more in-depth post about her familial relationships at a later date. 

As she grew older, she started having rather violent nightmares out of nowhere; horrible views of people being ripped to pieces, their flesh torn asunder, as well as vicious screams. She could hardly even stand to sleep, let alone hunt or participate in tribe activities. She found herself feeling isolated and perturbed, anxious that what she was seeing was a premonition of suffering from the Dusk Mother. Her family worried for her, but she refused to elaborate on her sudden changes. Eventually, the terrors became so pronounced that she refused to sleep altogether, for she would wake in a writhing fit, unaware of her surroundings. 

And then came the voices. Rather than the screams she had known, these voices whispered to her in frightened tones, and repeated over and over for her to leave. She couldn’t stand it anymore, so at the break of dawn before the sun could crawl over the Steppe’s hills, she left her home. She knew that she would never be allowed to return, but the voices urged her, almost controlling her. So she fled, as far as her meager feet could take her.  Upon the shores of the Ruby Sea, she stowed away within a Confederate vessel and prayed that Nhaama would release her of her torment. It must have been over two weeks of scavenging within the small confines of the ship when she landed in Limsa Lominsa. Her condition had stabilized since leaving the Steppe, but the voices had been replaced by a burning migraine so heavy she felt as if her whole body was a flaming ember.  She needed money. Badly. So when she arrived in the city proper, she lent her blades to odd causes. The procuring of meats, perhaps bodyguard duty here and there. Sometimes, a hit request; her first real taste in spilling mankind’s blood. Her Lominsan connections grew, and she was forwarded to the Adventurer’s Guild. There, she was officially enrolled, and continued with her tasks until she was approached by Jacke, leader of the Rogues. Dual blades being her specialty, she agreed to join them. It was here that she adopted the name that Jacke gave her, Evangeline, or “angel”. Her membership within the Rogue’s guild ultimately lead her to the Scions as well, where Minfilia promised her aid from her migraines. The story goes as MSQ does, but Eva never truly becomes better. In fact, she becomes more and more unstable the more animals, men, and gods she fights. Every ascian battle left her uncomfortable, but for a reason she could not place. Unknown memories started finding their way into her mind, like lost puzzle pieces. Minfilia never could rid her of her pain, and after her passing, Eva felt as if she had been cheated. Once friendly and outgoing within the Scions, she became colder. She still seemed kind, but on the inside, she was becoming jaded; nihilistic, even. In SB, she truly changed for the worst when Zenos made an appearance. At this point, she had grown an aqquired lust for blood, whether it be man or animals. She needed to kill, and Zenos matched her need with his own. She was beginning to lose sight of reason. It took all of the patience within her not to cut down the very beings she called friends.  And then in ShB, Eva is met face to face with the ascian Emet-Selch when he so kindly introduces himself. It is then that she remembers fully. The Sundering, her relationship with him, and how their beautiful life had turned sour so quickly. She knows she must speak to him, and they do, alone in her chambers of the Pendants. He reveals to her that he had been calling her for years now, hoping she would find her way to him. The Nightmares, the voices, the constant headache, and the memories; all of his design, for he had forced her sundered soul to remember things which she otherwise would have never remembered in the first place. She hated him. Despised him. It mattered not their previous relationship, as loving and gentle as it was. The pain of thousands of years was still fresh within her mind, a gaping wound pried open that she had not had sufficient time to heal, unlike his millennium of recovery. Yet she knew that she still loved him, as vile as he had become, and when he offered her his hand in comaraderie towards the goal of recovering the sundered world, she accepted. All of ShB is spent with the two together, secretly working together in favor of the rejoining. Emet is always with her, but not in view. The only times the Scions know he’s there is when he willingly allows himself to be seen.  Their relationship becomes one of physical desire and lust, but being far beyond the path of reason, also becomes one full of pain. A love and hatred so deep that they know not how to deal with it effectively, leaving only a truly broken reflection of their previous relationship. Emet enjoyed using her like a tool or a toy, and often reveled in the monster she had become. Eva, in turn, grew so restless that she craved for the deaths of anyone she did not care for. There is a constant battle throughout ShB because Eva wishes to slay all of the Scions, but Emet refuses to allow her to do so as it would completely ruin their plan. She even thought about the death of Emet herself. She wanted things to return to how they used to be, but at the same time, she was so far removed from feelings of love. In the end, she figured that the sooner she died and was reborn as her full self, the better.  This continues until the final battle with Hades, where Eva pretends to kill him. No, she does not kill him. She knows she could, but he had become her only source of entertainment, and she knew that their plan would ultimately not fail. She was a rabid dog on a leash, following his command. Elidibus is another story. I’ve not fully thought out why she fells him, but for now, let’s say it was because she cared for noone at this point other than Emet, though she despised him.  In EW, Eva’s story ends with the end of the entire world. Fandaniel’s summoning of Zodiark marks the end of her life. In the original version of this story, I let her and Emet die, but not be returned to their ancient days. I am thinking of allowing the possibility of the rejoining working, and them returning as whole beings with all of the trauma still stockpiled from their previous incarnations.  This is all for now. I really just like to draw them and their ridiculously horrible relationship. 

[yunessa]

Up to a point I could deny that everything was building up. An angel sword? Oh, how lucky to have an angel sword. Going to Elysium and meeting Azatas? Even luckier! Few mortals ever go to Elysium, much less see an Azata. It had the start of a heroic story, but I didn’t want to be a hero so I ignored it. We had gotten a blessing to suppress my curse, I got a nice sword and a good story to tell future crowds. But Finnean ruined it. It was no longer ‘a bard gets lucky and finds a nice sword and gets a good story to sing’. It became a story where someone, somewhere, somehow everything was getting in line to make me a hero or a crusader or something. I thought about it long and hard as we travelled the few blocks to Blackwing Library.  It felt strange. I had no connection to Mendev or Kenabres itself.  But by seeming random happenstance I held an Angel’s blade in the depths of my being. I had walked through Elysium and spoke to Azatas. A magical sword that had, at some point, been a flesh and blood man. To many random gifts from the heavens that seemed familiar. It was the start of a hero's story, the sort you see sung in high end Taverns. But I had no idea what heroic quest was about to be given- more like dumped on me- from the skies. I racked my brain wondering what could happen. There were rumours of a fifth crusade that was imminent- but those had been going on for two decades. There were whispers that Cheliax was getting aggressive. I made a note to ask Daeran later- he had mentioned living in the city for well over a decade and since he was related to the Queen he might be aware. Ember knew nothing. At least, not anything that made sense to me. Seelah knew the rumours I’d already figured out on my own. Camilla shrugged when I asked. I would need to speak with those at the Defender’s Heart in depth when we returned. Woljif knew what was happening at the ground level, but not around- surprisingly he continued to stick with us, looking far less tense now that his name had been cleared. Aravashinal was uninterested in conversation,anxious to see his library.   All of the stories, poems, and books I knew offered me no clues. This was not the obvious work of any God I knew, nor spirit, nor fey and I had never had dealings with demons.  But somehow it all felt familiar while being not. Like the answer was close and within reach but I couldn’t see it. If I had more than a few hours before I was attacked outside of Kenabres then maybe I would have found myself more knowledgeable than I was at the moment. But it’s difficult to plan ‘avoiding the apocalypse’ in your day when you didn’t see it coming.  Once we got back to the Inn, I promised myself I’d talk to everyone who’d spend time.  There are very few people who actively dislike bards, and fewer still who hated music. Add a charming smile and kind words and I was certain that I could get information. We just had to find the storyteller and I could start getting more answers. -Yunessa

The Blackwing Library was gone. A three story library that had been maintained and added to for a century had been torn apart by Khorramzadeh as if it was made of paper mache . Only the front of the building  and a quarter of the first floor remained. Even Deskari had contributed to the destruction- his scythe had left a wound through the middle of the library so deep it made a chasm over twice the size of the library.

Aravashinal had summoned a wind elemental when they reached the library, unwilling to believe their words. The wind elemental had returned in short order, reporting much the same that the group had told him. Aravashinal would have collapsed if Yunessa and Seelah hadn’t been there.

Despite their efforts, Aravashinal hadn’t spoken since, looking nauseated and in shock. Yunessa had put their long coat over him and he’d clutched at the coat as the air elemental whispered a soft whistling. Aravashinal allowed Seelah to lead him.

“Do ya see that?” Woljif asked Lann as the group was forced to move around where the chasm started. “That scythe took out the library! It-”

Lann made a shush noise, glancing towards Aravashinal. His eyes lingered over the chasm that had been made but he tactfully kept silent about it.  “The Storyteller should be here, right Yunessa?” 

“Should be. We’ll search everywhere we can and bring him back to Defender’s heart. Then we’ll rest for the night- regardless of what happens.” Despite brief rest, Yunessa had noticed the rising level of weariness and beyond that- it wasn’t good to be out here for longer than a day. Not when bodies littering the street had become so common Yunessa had begun to gloss over them like the pacing stones in the road.

“I agree with that plan. I would rather seek out a fire.”

“Will we have bread for dinner?”

“You can have whatever you want Ember- I’m sure there’s bread there. Maybe soup or meat as well.”

Contrary to the outside, what was left of the inside of the Library felt inviting- if one ignored the structural damage and the filth that stuck to the floors. Yunessa had lit their way with a cantrip and the magical orb of light illuminated filthy blood and oil streaked tiles. Cracked tiles were barely hidden by the damaged parchments and books that had been scattered or torn. 

“I can hear noises further in.” Yunessa murmured. “Keep an eye out- we don’t know if they’re friends or not.”

The noises from the inside grew louder, low voices, laughter and as they entered through the archway into the reinforced great hall, it all paused.  On the far end lay a massive pile of books where four bound bodies lay.  In front of the book pile stood three crusaders clad in dirtied armour.  Their leader- or so Yunessa assumed- turned to face them, his features hard to read in the light.

“Follow after me.” Yunessa murmured to the group. “And do as I do.” 

Barrels of flammable alchemical substances littered by the reading tables. Recalling Camilla’s words on them Yunessa weaved through them, instilling purpose. A stocky knight with a mess of black hair watched Yunessa as they approached. His armour was flecked with blood and filth and he put on a smile

“Ha, fellow crusaders?” The Knight’s voice was deep and booming as he puffed up on Yunessa’s approach. “Excellent! I am Captain Chaleb Sazomal, and these are my men. I am about to burn these vile back stabbers and heretics here, these pathetic imitators of the traitor Areelu who tricked their way into the ranks of the crusaders!” He gestured behind him ad Yunessa spotted an additional fourth to the pile. They were all severely beaten- that much was obvious by the colors blooming over their skin. The one strange elf looked old. 

We never look old. What is this?

The emblems on the two crusaders accompanying him bore the symbols of a different order than Chaleb’s- a burning lance piercing a book. Chaleb’s armour bore the symbols of a Sarenae affiliated order- Sarenae’s symbols wove around a familiar crusader insignia. Different orders did not share Captains, even Yunessa knew that much. Too much philosophy and combat differences.

A familiar feeling welled inside Yunessa. “What happened to the Library?”

“Demons.” Chaleb shrugged. “They showed up and carried everything away. I wasn’t here to see it myself. I was fighting in the square. But these filthy traitors told me everything. My fists made them quite chatty!” He let out a loud, grating laugh that made Yunessa want to grind their teeth.

“So you tortured them.” Seelah’s voice was flat, keeping an arm around Aravashinal. The Librarian continued to lean against Seelah as the wind elemental raked gentle hands through Arvashinal’s white hair. “Do you think that’s worthy of being crusader?”

“Under ordinary circumstances? No! But look around sister! The city is burning, there is no time to be squeamish or to hold back for the good of Kenabres!: Chaleb gestured at the found bound prisoners. The two crusaders accompanying Chaleb were tieflings and paused to watch the discussion.

“Then why are we burning them?” Yunessa spoke up before Seelah could continue. “This looks like a waste of time Captain and not merely because of the resources involved in this…” Yunessa gestured idly at the pile as if CHaleb was burning leaves rather than people.

Chaleb was talking loudly- pleasantries and jovial words- as he looked at Yunessa. He would look to the pile, to the prisoners he bellowed threats at - in shock and seeming utterly terrified- while casting sidelong glances and offering a smile that reminded Yunessa of a cheating husband they had seen a half decade back.

Chaleb howled like a wild animal cornered and upset. “Look around you!” He gestured wildly, eyes starting to lose focus. “The city burns! In ruins! So many innocent lives lost because of abominations like these here! Cultists! Heretics! Spies! All slipping into our ranks and preparing a heinous death for us all! They want to give  us to the demons!” Chaleb was speaking all the right words, the proper crusader feverish emotions in his voice. But somehow Yunessa just wanted to yawn as Chaleb continued. “Just like Areelu did with Sarkoris! They deserve to feel the flames licking their legs and burning alive!”

Yunessa had seen similar behavioural quirks before. A half decade prior they had spent a year at an inn playing and had grown familiar with the customers. A continuously lying husband came to mind, his face blurred by time. He also would keep looking sideways and speak loudly while making wide and fast gestures. All the better to keep eyes focused and force attention to himself rather than his current harlot.  

“You come up with nasty words to use against people.” Ember eyed Chaleb sourly. “You call them cultists, heretics, and spies so you don’t have to call them people. Good people, just not for you. You’d feel bad doing this to people- but not heretics. Without those words you couldn’t harm them.”

“Little girl-”

“STOP.” Yunessa bellowed.”IDIOTS.” Yunessa listened to the impulse. “Heed my command in the name of Baphomet!” The words flew out of Yunessa’s mouth and Yunessa was glad they had followed this instinctive impulse. The words hit a target- the crusaders jumped in surprise and looked at each other in terror.  “The new blood is so stupid.” Yunessa complained as if someone was there to offer sympathy. 

A choked noise came from behind and Yunessa turned to see Daeran standing near them, loaded crossbow held in one hand as the other pressed to his mouth. His eyes had narrowed, his lips twitching like he was struggling with all his might to stop laughing.

“We’re everywhere Mortal. Didn’t you know that?’ Wolfjif eyed Chaleb menacingly and his shadow seemed to swell behind him, 

Chaleb started, limbs spasming. When he spoke again it was a quieter bellow, deferential, even. “Sorry! Couldn’t have known, We’ll fix it right away ma’am- sir!” With quick gestures his to fellows began pulling away the barrels of fire they had pulled to the books piled by the prisoners. There was a sense of enjoyment watching them panic. It was even more enjoyable knowing they were so gullible to believe it. The looks of oafish terror on their faces as they were rebuked for their fecklessness. It was a memory worth keeping.

“Chaleb is the name for a crusader.” Yunessa raked a hand through their long hair, sticking the other in a pocket to imitate a sense of boredom. “You’re not a crusader are you?” They side-eyed Chaleb. “Report. Who are you and the sorry lot pulling the barrels away.”

“Chalb Sazomal, former knight of the Order of Everbright Crusaders, deserter! These two are my mates from playing cards, local fences for stolen goods- very reliable Lord elf! We set this ambush and caught three… no, four crusaders! We wish to join the ranks of the triumphant army of the Worldwound!” He was comical in his attempt to impress and his two fellows were no better.

“We could use good lads like them. Brave fighters- with more of them in our ranks, victory would be assured.” Lann sneered at the three and Yunessa choked back a snort. “If only we had more of them.”

If I respond to that I’m going to laugh until  I cry. Lann looks terrible as a cultist.

To distract themself from their thoughts and Lann’s expression Yunessa hummed. “Chaleb still sounds like a crusader name. We should do something about that- it bothers me to hear a paladin name. We should give him a name worthy of a demon. Something good, useful.” Daeran picked that moment to murmur into Yunessa’s ear. “Oh?” They said as if they were considering Daeran’s murmur. “ Well perhaps.” Yunessa pretended to consider for a moment longer before acquiescing. “We can go with Foulsnout thent. It’s a proper name for one of our own.” Yunessa gestured lazily to Chaleb. “You heard it- use the name with pride and shed what you had before.”

Chale - Foulsnout- bit his lip and he thrust out his chest with pride. “Thank you Lord Elf.” Chaleb-Foulsnout furrowed his brow in a display of pretend menace.  Does he think he’d be able to handle his former crusader fellows? He didn’t bother to try hard enough to send my group off. Chaleb-Foulsnout eyed Lannn’s single horn with rapt attention before eyeing Woljif’s horns. 

“Allright, allright.” Yunessa waved a hand. “You’ve plenty of fuel here. It’s time to put it to better use than a library or on Crusaders.” Yunessa would have rolled their eyes but black eyes didn’t show such an expression naturally. Not well, if it did at all.  

“Where would you have us go?” Chaleb- Foulsnout asked and Yunessa pretended to ponder. 

“Somewhere with useful Crusader materials- ah, yes. The Grey Garrison. There’s a library there. Go rig it so if the crusaders try to get in they’ll lose everything.” The former crusader and his reliable card game pals worked feverishly to unwrap the oil barrels at the base of the book pile.

“I like your sense of humour.” Daeran murmured into Yunessa’s ear. His face held all of the amused curiosity his voice didn’t show. ”It’s quite fiery!” His pale eyes were alight with the emotion especially and Yunessa reached back. They didn’t touch his face but their fingers came within a hair's breadth of his jaw as they blew him a fake kiss. 

“Careful. Mind the fire or you’ll get burned.” Yunessa murmured and Daeran lowered his lashes with a slight smile in response.

“Thanks for the warning. But I am absolutely fire-resistant. Even if the flame is ever so charming.” “Are you-” Yunessa’s murmur was interrupted by Chaleb- Foulsnout’s voice. 

“I have more where that came from Lord Elf! I’ll do everything you ordered and just as soon as those Crusaders arrive, they’ll be dead meat! I’ll make sure we get another- no, make it two extra barrels of alchemist’s fire from the Grey Garrison storeroom! Things are absolutely going to liven up there!”

Chaleb-Foulsnot and his annoyances left dragging the barrels with them in such a manner that Yunessa was fairly certain one or more would trip and if the barrels did not break then they would be set afire when the barrels inevitably were damaged. Alchemist’s fire was nothing to use casually.

But then again, Yunessa had no interest in shortening their life by tossing one of those barrels around.

Once they were gone for certain Yunessa didn’t need to say anything- their companions were already aiding the prisoners.The old elf was cut free first and moved in Yunessa’s direction with calm and steady steps. He looked strange, even by elven standards- some of them Yunessa instinctively knew- and his face and body wore their years heavily. Thinning greyed hair, a ragged beard like wires, sightless grey-milk eyes, paper thin skin with a spine curved by age. It was unlike any elf Yunessa had ever known- youth graced them outwardly even on their deathbed. The old elf reached his hand out towards Yunessa’s direction in the perennial gesture of the blind.

Yunessa reached their arm out and let their hand rest atop the old elf’s. His fingers spasmed and his grey-milky eyes focused on Yunessa. He took a moment before speaking with a voice belonging to a far younger man- unexpectedly strong and calm.”Hello. I am Storyteller, and I wish to thank my rescuers. That would be you if I’m not mistaken?”

“That’s the first time I heard of a venerable old-timer having a street name!” Woljif quipped, his hands full with the coarse rope used to tie the prisoner’s hands. Ember hovered over them, offering healing as they took time to recover.

“Sometimes a person can lose their name. But their mama and papa are gone, friends are gone, and there’s nobody to ask who it was. So instead of their name, a person can pick any word that is good. Everyone needs a name…or do they? I don’t know!” Ember’s hands glowed bright with warmth as she healed away a scarlet wound in a prisoner’s side. The prisoner tugged at her crimson tabard.

Yunessa recalled their kind had more than one name.  Most often nicknames were given out as names and their actual names were kept for close friends and family only.= as a drunken elf had lectured them some ten years back. “Is it the name you prefer?” They asked delicately. “Mine is Yunessa- it’s the only one I have and use.”

The old elf nodded slowly, offering a weak smile of approval. “I prefer to be called Storyteller. It very accurately describes the sphere of my occupations and interests. In most places that I’ve been, I am known by that name.”

“You’ve piqued my curiosity. Are you a bard Storyteller? If so, you should come perform at one of my parties instead of knocking about in this dusty library.” Daeran gestured at the library. Despite the rain and destruction, it still held some of the quiet charm and appeal it once did.

“A bard? In a sense, I am one. But not the type that performs at festivities or parties. I think many of your guests would lose their appetites or grow bored with my tales quickly.” Despite the blind eyes it seemed as if the Storyteller had an accurate guess where each of them were, with little problem following their voices.

“What a shame. And I wwas so hoping to wheel you out in front of my guests. With your… unusual appearance, you would have caused quite the scandal!” If Storyteller was insulted by Daeran’s words then he showed no sign of it, hands clasped in front of him as Daeran talked.”But lugubrius bards are of o use to me. Half the bards in the city are the same: their repertoire is confined to the One About Loonging, the One That Causes Indigestion, and the One That’s a Complete Waste of Time. I mean, really, how is one supposed to hold a party like that?”

Aravashinal pulled away from Seelah. “Where’s Daeran?”

“And why are you asking for me?” Daeran inquired, his attention shifting to the blind Librarian as he moved around a table. “Are you looking to spread more false reports?”

Aravashinal flushed, shaking his head. “I need you to try and heal my eyes. There’s something I need to do and a child can’t-”

As Aravashinal and Daeran spoke - asking to have his eyes healed right now and Daeran’s sarcasm- Ember came up to Yunessa, beaming at the Storyteller. “My Grandmother looks like you!” She exclaimed. “When I was little my mother and Father would tell me stories. But I have nobody to tell me stories now- sometimes my Grandma does in my dreams, but I always forget them in the morning.” 

Storyteller lowered his head, the corners of his mouth slowly creeping upwards. “For you… I may have a story to tell… but perhaps it is you who has one who has a story for me.”

The other prisoners were talking amongst themselves, checking the others over. One of them, a man with short dark hair, murmured comforting words to his fellow.

“What happened to you Storyteller? This place looks like every demon Lord that came to Kenabres went to take a swing at it.” Yuness gestured and paused as the storyteller’s eyes didn’t move. “It looks like whatever is left of the library was put into a container and shook.”

“A complicated question Yunessa. I would be happy to tell you more about myself-and the burden I carry- but I’d rather do it in another safer place. I know there’s more than one thing you wish to speak about with me and I will of course, render you a service in turn, whatever it may be, as thanks.” Storyteller waves a hand around them. “However at the moment, I wish to be somewhere safer than the present surroundings. My recent adventures have plagued me greatly. I would be grateful if you could help me to a safe shelter of some kind.”

“Typical! You do someone a good turn and instead of saying ‘thank you’, they just ask for more help.” Yunessa turned at Woljif’s words to give him a long look and the Tiefling coughed as he looked away.

Storyteller’s mouth fell into a stubborn set and he raised his head. He wouldn’t change his mind.  And who would want to try and wait things out when they were almost burned alive? It was a fair request and no more unreasonable than any other.

“Go easy on the old elf. He’s had a rough time of it- did you see this library?” Seelah’s frowned at Woljif. 

“Yeah, because we’ve had it so easy!” Woljif returned and Yunessa tuned them out before going to address the Storyteller again.

“It seems as if Aravashinal is getting his eyes treated by Daeran right now. I don’t know what Aravashinal will need to do here. Are you fine with waiting here? We won’t leave so you’ll be safe.”

Storyteller considered Yunessa’s words. “I’ll remain here. Wandering the city as it’s under attack by demons is advisable for a blind man.”

“We won’t leave you- we’re heading to Defender’s Heart Inn to rest ourselves after this.” Yunessa assured and the Storyteller nodded, allowing Yunessa to find him a chair to rest close to the group.

“There’s death everywhere here.” Ember commented. She was sitting atop a pile of damaged books, studying the paper in her hands. A heavily stylized sketch from ‘The Lies Demons Tell: A history and guide’ depicting  succubus surrounded by the creatively murdered bodies of her victims. Sometimes, I think we are all doomed. But then death passes us by, and here we are again. Alive and not dead.”

Lann looked away from Yunessa, talking to Klaem- one of the scholars among the prisoners-. Yunessa’s smile was wide and as Lann watched Yunessa raked their hair back. Yunessa had been doing that repeatedly without the hair tie.  “But you’re an elf mber. You should live hundreds of years and never worry about dying. Little elf girls shouldn’t know such words.”

Ember canted her head at him. Despite Yunessa’s best efforts it seemed as if Ember shed ashes when nobody looked and Yunessa’s hat had a light coating of grey ashes atop it.”When children are thrown into the middle of a war, they learn many sad things. That’s why we have to win the war. So that other boys and girls don’t have to learn what we did.” Ember’s lips tugged into a smile that sent chills down Lann’s spine. It wasn’t normal for a child to smile like that. “It wouldn’t have mattered if I had hundreds of years or seven years.”

“Right.” Lann looked away.  “Is that why you’re here with us then?”

“Yunessa asked me to stay with them. So I think I’ll stay with them for a while. I don’t think the crusaders know what to do now, the war’s gone on for too long.”

“And you think Yunessa does?” Lann watched as Yunessa accepted a book from Klaem, smoothing their hand over the cover. A gleam of their bracelet caught his eyes. “Hey, Ember, What do you think about that bracelet?”

“I don’t know. Soot likes Yunessa though.” Ember hummed, holding the page with the graphic art in her hands. “I think it’s pretty! It reminds me of the nice painter that used to go to the docks every Toilsday.”

“Brother Klaem at your service.” Klaem’s gripe as he reached out to shake Yunessa’s hand wasn’t strong- but Yunessa couldn’t fault him. He’d been through an ordeal, that much was obvious, written all over his Aristocratic features. “We thought we were doomed to burn alive. Thank you for helping us.”

“We didn’t plan to watch innocent men and women get burned live. Are you and your fellow Crusaders going to meet up with your other fellows? If not, we’re all going to the Defender’s Heart, Irabeth Tirabade has set it up for Crusaders and the city people alike.” Yunessa watched as Klaem shifted, wincing. Even the healing Ember could spare hadn’t been enough. But considering he was walking, Yunessa wondered how bad the totality of the damage had been.

“We’re not like the other crusaders- we come from the Order of the Flaming Lance. We dedicate ourselves to the pursuit of hidden knowledge and magical methods for fighting against demons.” Klaem waved a hand at the Library.  “Unfortunately being here was not the most ideal choice when Deskari cut the building in half. We were searching for one of our own- but if our Sister Miammir was here then she either left before we came or she’s, like you mentioned, at a safe place.”

“You can come with us. We’re heading back there once Daeran’s work is done and Aravashinal is ready to go.” Yunessa glanced back.

Daeran’s features held the utmost concentration as he worked. He said he was an average healer, but Yunessa could taste the burnt sugar smell of divine magic and see the focus he applied to his task. Aravashinal, to his credit, clutched at a damaged book in his lap and stayed stock still. 

Klaem followed Yunessa’s gaze. “That would be appreciated. Your daughter did what she could but I’m afraid I’ll be almost useless in a fight. Rest will fix the exhaustion and allow me to have my spells back.” Hearing Ember referred to as their child almost made Yunessa smile.

“The rest of our group is able to cover for you. As long as you can run if need be, Defender’s Heart isn’t far off- the demons and cultists aren’t as plentiful as they were this morning.” Yunessa frowned. “We don’t know if the party is dying or if they’re recalling to amass forces again. Either or, we can make it to the Inn.”

“I- we all appreciate it. Running is painful but I could manage if it came to that.” Klaem agreed.

“How did Chaleb overwhelm you? He didn’t seem like the smartest chip off the old lock.” Yunessa asked. “I want to check for traps before we leave, make sure that nothing will set off.”

“The traitor met us at the door. When Deskari cut through the building we jumped off the second story balcony to avoid imminent death. It was only after that when we had dragged ourselves into the library that Chaleb found us.We didn’t suspect a thing- he seemed like a passionate crusader so we let our guard down. But he attacked us from behind and knocked us out. We didn’t suspect such trickery would come from our own- just surviving to go and hide in the library had drained us. I suspect most of our order is dead now and at the time we were desperate to believe this man was a fellow crusader, a comrade.” Klaem shuddered, glancing back to the pile of books he’d been bound on. “I woke up to my armour removed and tied up atop that pile of books.What a macabre end.”

“That’s always how it goes. You start to think you might be able to trust a fella, and boom, he goes and stabs you in the back.” Woljif snorted. The tiefling had taken to sitting on a table nearby, close to Seelah.

“If you never trust anyone then soon you’ll become a killer just like Hulrun. That’s hardly any better.” Seelah shook her head at Woljif.

“Pah! Don’t start on that again. Fine, fine, you convinced me. You can trust people: But only one in every dozen!” Woljif waved his hand. “I don’t wanna get into another fight with you Sister Seelah.”

Camilla sidled up to stand by Yunessa, inspecting Klaem with a critical eye. Lann moved away from Ember, eyes searching the room once more.

“Will the older elf be coming with us?” Klaem inquired.

“Storyteller? He is. Once Aravshinal is done here we’ll take him with us as well.” Yunessa confirmed.

Klaem’s voice dropped to a polite murmur so Storyteller couldn’t hear him. “We met Storytller while reading in the Library. He was interested in the writings of old Sarkoris and the era before that. The traitor caught him,same as us. Have you ever seen an elf so old before? Not just old, but ancient. I thought your kind didn’t have facial hair, wrinkles, or aged like that. You'd know better of course. I’m not an elf. Maybe such things are commonplace and you keep elves like him away from the wider world? If true then what’s this old fellow doing, walking around and revealing his race’s secrets?”

“An elf with wrinkles and a bear? A detestable absurdity.” Camilla commented before Yunessa could speak up. 

“Hold on there, a beard isn’t the worst thing a person can have growing on their face!” Lann protested. “You should have seen some of the people back in my village.

“The worst thing growing on your face is your mouth-”

“Shut up.” Yunessa interrupted. Camilla had been sniping at Lann whenever she got the chance and it inevitably ended with Lann angry and upset. “This is not the time for this.  Lann, go and keep an eye out for enemies. Camilla, go and  check the other end for traps. I will search Lann’s side.”

Camilla huffed, but followed Yunessa’s orders.  Lann moved as Yunessa told him to and Yunessa exhaled slowly. 

“We’ll be done when Aravashinal is Klaem- do you mind waiting until then?”

When Klaem agreed, Yunessa gave him their most charming smile.

When Daeran’s work was finished, he was weary and sweating, wiping it from his face with a hankerchief that held a bright floral design. Tweezers, alcohol, a few rags, and a considerable amount of his power had gone into his effort. Mending something like eyes took effort, more than he would want to expand normally but….

“It looks good.” He murmured. Arvashinal had risen up as soon as he could, cried over the Library and rushed off to search it- looting it or getting his secrets?  Daeran sat in a woefully understuff chair as he watched. “If I don’t help them then it looks suspicious. You need to help smaller groups more but once they trust you…” He let his words trail off.”You can get away with more.”

Something stabbed at the back of his mind, cold and nauseating. He closed his eyes, listening to things he would rather not. It faded as quickly as it had come, leaving a far to hot pain akin to a migraine in its wake. Daeran sighed, wetting the kerchief with water from his waterskin, hoping in vain the cold would make it go away.

It diverted its attention away from him as Yunessa yelled out. Daeran opened his eyes in time to see one of the stone gryphons shed its stone skin and fly off the plinth it had rested on. It let out a loud roar of excitement as it tasted freedom in the sky. The others startled and reacted but Daeran didn’t leave his chair.

Weird things around Yunessa were commonplace it seemed. But as delightful as Yunessa was,he’d have to leave them soon. Where would he go to that was as far away from this as possible? He leaned back in his chair, losing himself to plans, thoughts, and hopes that would never happen.

“Why didn’t you come for me when it flew away?” Aravashinal hissed.  The Librarian had loaded himself up with as much as he could, every bag, pocket, and hand holding as much as he could fit. “Which gryphon was it?”

“The plinth there? Uh, ‘Old Sarkoris Ancient’ I think.”

“Old Sarkoris? It did certainly come to us around… a bit more than a century ago. A gift- I remember hearing about it in one of my books but-” He broke off with a heavy sigh. “Later. I’ll look into it later. Where are you going Yunessa?”

“Defender’s Heart Inn- everyone is growing tired and we need more than a hour’s rest and a handful of dried oatmeal mix for food. We need rest, to get away from the rain, dry off, and then figure out what tomorrow brings.” Yunessa gestured to the group. 

“Take me with you, please.” Aravashinal looked wary at the reminder of the day. His eyes- black like Yunessa’s, searched the library, soaking in all of the sights. “I want to talk with you privately but this place is not safe enough.”

“You can come with us, of course. We’re all going to the inn now that you’re done.”

Aravashinal nodded at Yunessa’s words.

“Let’s go… there’s nothing left here now but the dead.”

[areus-in-a-little-cave]

Hi bestie, do you happen to have any emerald duo longfic recs for me?

Please im going insane i need to read

Hi Ember I do not read enough emerald duo fics But I have searched some up soo here are a few, some I have not read and some I know by reputation. These are all completed as well and over 50k words

agnosthesia by ambibii and TearsOfAStarling - 111k words, High Fantasy AU, Creator chose not to use archive warnings

agnosthesia n. the state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behavior, as if you were some other person—noticing a twist of acid in your voice, an obscene amount of effort put into something trifling, or an inexplicable weight on your shoulders that makes it difficult to get out of bed.

Philza Minecraft was the exiled prince of the Kingdom of Heart Cove, a darkness plaguing his heart. Technoblade was his loyal knight, is a pledged Blade since birth. Then Technoblade met a necromancer named Dream, who dragged the both of them to therapy and taught them about the magic of friendship along the way. Oh, and some actual magic too.

Don't know this one, looks like it has a lot of rivalsduo and doomsdaytrio but a decent amount of emerald duo

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The Next Great Adventure by Pathfinder - 114k words, Fantasy AU, Graphic depictions of violence

Philza is closed-off, hardened from centuries without aging while watching his friends turn to dust, taking jobs under the moniker Angel of Death to try and feel something again.

Technoblade is a brute of a piglin with more scars than unbroken skin and a penchant for uncovering trouble, hot on the trail of… something. He’s exactly the sort of routine job that should consume a few weeks of Phil’s endless time, before he’s forced to find something else to waste away doing.

(Such a shame, then, that the Angel of Death should meet his match.)

Or: A fanfiction in which an elaborate AU is crafted as an excuse to focus entirely on Technoblade and Philza's relationship.

Only has Emerald duo and Phil/Kristin tagged so I'm guessing it's just them!

--

oh dear, can you see me? by findingkairos - 70k words, Antarctic Empire Age Swap AU, No archive warnings apply

Philza Minecraft is the youngest person ever to beat a Hardcore world and earn his wings. It makes him a target.

For an enterprising faction fighting in a server-wide war, it makes him a weapon.

(Age Swap!AU where Technoblade is a legendary warrior who's been having fun scaring newbies and occasionally conquering realms on behalf of Hypixel, Philza is a young player who's been guilt tripped into choosing the losing side, and things get worse before they get better.)

this one is actually on my tbr, looks like it's just emerald duo :]

--

Orphan's Path by aenor_llelo, Alderous, Anarchy-Schmanarchy (Murder_Schmurder), BattleBlaze, ConcoctionsFromHell, Falrisesi, fluxphage, izziel_galaxy, Otakuforlife19, and Rocket999 - 686k words, Canon compliant/additional, Warnings vary by fic

Since this one is a series, I don't have a summary for it, but it's basically a retelling of canon from mostly Phil or Techno's POV with tons of additional backstory and headcanons and etc. Technically this one is not done since the series is on-going but there's, y'know, 686k words already

Also on my tbr, and it mostly seems to be emerald duo with some other people thrown in every now and again

--

A collection of dust by SwordSoup - 78k words, Hunger Games AU, Graphic depictions of violence and Major character death

Phil's name is scrawled on 27 individual pieces of paper. Wilbur's is only written on one. Yet somehow, the younger boy is the one who is selected to join the Hunger Games, forced to die on television for the entertainment of the ravenous elite. Phil won't allow it. He volunteers, and then a man he has only spoken to once is called to the platform, and Technoblade's eyes are an eerie shade of red, and then he's being taken away, and-

And then suddenly, Phil is dragged into a bloody and gruesome struggle for power against a country that only wants to watch him die. But he'll fight, no matter how little the odds favor him.

okay I really want to read this one now oop don't mind me. Phil and Techno's relationship tag and Phil and Wilbur's are the only ones on the fic so despite the other character tags I'm guessing it's about them mostly

--

bones in the ocean by bunflower - 86k words, Pirate AU, Graphic depictions of violence

“The Angel of Death, the ferryman of the Styx, the terror of the western seas. One of the most feared captains ever to sail, and yet, I have to wonder… how did a man like you end up all on his own? We searched the area where you were found—not another soul in sight. So,” He fixes him with a long look, allowing the silence to hover like a dark cloud, the words rolling off of his tongue with all the venom and smugness he can muster, “—tell me, Philza. Where is your crew?”

—

OR: Technoblade is a naval captain, and Phil his unwilling prisoner. Somehow, they manage to come out of it as friends in the end.

yeah so unlike the others I actually know this one because it's very popular and I know Bun is a great emerald duo author so I'm guessing it's quite good

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i wanna hear it's alright by bunflower - 114k words, Canon-divergent, Graphic depictions of violence and Major character death

“T’ the gates of hell…”

“Go to hell, then.”

“I’ll see you there.”

—

A Phil-centric whump!fic that grew into a story of friendship, love, betrayal, and loss. A series of interconnected one-shots focusing on the nature and complexity of Phil and Technoblade’s friendship over the centuries.

one day when I am strong enough and won't cry I will read this

--

Anyways that's it for fics BUT I have three authors here that I know write a lot of emerald duo even if they don't have completed long fics for them

Anarchy_and_Piglins - Most popular and longest fic is About Phantom Pains of Dying, an ongoing collection of Techno-centric oneshots, 88k words and no archive warnings.

h_mellohi - Most popular fic is feathers laden with dust and stone, a season one OSMP angel duo oneshot, 5k words and no archive warnings. Longest fic is red eggs and ham, a finished peerpressureduo eggpire fic, 94k words and creator chose not to use archive warnings.

bunflower - Most popular fic is Bones in the ocean, same as above. Longest fic is i wanna hear it's alright, same as above. Just here because they have a lot of other emerald duo fics

[shera-dnd]

IT'S HERE! Took me a little longer than planned, but hey it's here.

A little AU where our dear Ruby Rose is raised by Raven Branwen and learns all the bad stuff that comes with that, but don't worry she gets to have a little bonding session with her sister and they figure things out

(Featuring Trans Summer Rose and some STR crossed lovers)

Also if you'd like to have your own fic idea written by me or simply want to help support me consider donating to my kofi to help me reach this month's goal

Anyways here's the fic, enjoy the read.

“How much further, pal?” Yang asked as she rode her bike through the woods of Anima.

“This should just about do it,” the man sitting behind her answered. His name was Shay - a sleazy idiot, but a useful idiot. An idiot who could show her the way to her mom, and the rest of her family.

She slowed to a stop and got off the bike, leaning back against it. 

“I’ll go ahead and check if the coast is clear,” he added, walking off into the woods.

Well that was a trap if she had ever seen one before, but she’d deal with it. 

If they were all on Shay’s level, then she’d be alright.

When she heard the first shot ring out she had plenty of time to raise her prosthetic arm and block it. 

When she found herself surrounded, she did little more than ask for directions. 

And when the bandits leaped into action she bested them handily.

It was simple, almost effortless work, but it still had her hand trembling. 

She had to hold it down with her prosthetic to try to calm it down. No matter how much she thought she was over it, it kept dragging her back.

Just deep breaths. 

In and out. 

Focus on the present. 

Just focus on–

Reflex took over faster than thought as Yang side-stepped a katana swing from thin air.

Its wielder wasn’t far behind it, forming from a cloud of petals. It was a girl with red eyes and black hair, wearing a tattered white cloak over red and black armor.

Yang parried swing after swing of the girl’s katana against the sides of Ember Celica. The girl went for a thrusting lunge straight for her neck, Yang barely catching it with her prosthetic.

“Wow,” the girl exclaimed, with wide eyed wonder, “I’ve never seen a prosthetic like that! Is it atlesian? The design looks atlesian!”

Yang was understandably baffled by this. 

So she shoved her assailant away, and cocked the cannons on Ember Celica, shooting a few explosive shells her way. 

The girl harmlessly swatted them away with her sword, seeming undeterred in her quest to learn all about Yang’s cool tech stuff.

“Oh my gosh,” she continued, even as she lunged forward for another attack, “I love the arm cannons! Did you build them yourself? Wait! Does that mean you’re a huntress? I’venever met a huntress before!”

And yet she definitely fought like a huntress. 

Yang would be impressed by the other girl’s skill if she wasn’t also deeply annoyed that she didn’t seem to be taking this seriously in the slightest.

“Look, pal, I’m not here to chit chat about weapons,” Yang argued, throwing the girl a right hook that nearly clocked her in the jaw if she hadn’t burst into petals once again.

Once the girl took form again, she connected the pommel of her sword with the back of her scabbard, some unseen mechanism beginning to unfold inside it, revealing an extra blade. By the time it had finished its transformation, the simple sword and scabbard had unfolded into a double ended naginata.

Damn, this girl really had a thing for machinery.

“I know,” the girl nodded, “you’re here for my clan, and I won’t let you hurt anyone else.”

With those words she leaped for her again. 

She twirled around Yang, her weapon spinning with her into a deadly dance of blades, forcing her out of Yang’s reach.

She couldn’t get close enough to land with Ember Celica, every swing of the blades forcing her on the defensive.

She had to play it safe, if she could bait her out, she could get in close enough…

“I don’t care about you or your stupid tribe,” Yang argued as she continued to parry blow after blow, “I’m here for Raven!”

And there it was, anger, killing intent, followed by a furious lunge for Yang’s neck. 

That’s all she needed.

With a shot from Ember Celica she launched herself into range, her fist flying for the girl’s face.

“I won’t let you hurt my mom!” The girl exclaimed and Yang froze, her fist hanging there between them.

Mom?

She was Raven’s daughter?

Could she really be…?

“Ruby?” She muttered.

The girl blinked in confusion, looking up into Yang’s own red eyes, “how do you know my name?”

~~~

She had a sister. 

Ruby Branwen had a sister!

A cool sister, with a bike, and a robot arm!

Sure, she had several questions, like why did Raven never tell her about her? 

Why did she never visit in 17 years? 

Or what she was doing here now? 

But who cared? Her family was finally together for the first time!

So Ruby hopped and skipped with excitement as she entered her clan’s camp, her new sister following behind, surrounded by Shay and his friends. 

Vernal’s familiar figure peered out from Raven’s tent, and she raised a single eyebrow at the sight of their little group.

“Hey, Vee, can you tell mom we’ve got a guest?” Ruby greeted.

Vernal glared at her as she usually did then extended that glare to the new arrival, before answering, “you can tell her yourself.”

With that, Raven herself stepped out from her tent calling, “Ruby, what is the meaning of– oh.”

“Hey, mom,” Yang greeted halfheartedly

“Yang,” was all Raven said at first, her tone somber, though it was quickly replaced with her usual, more confident voice, “so after all this time you’ve finally decided to visit.”

Yang’s hand began to shake again like it had before Ruby attacked. 

She didn’t know why, but some forgotten sisterly instinct drove her to hold her hand.

“Mom, don’t be mean,” Ruby complained, “Yang came back to the clan. Shouldn’t we be celebrating?”

Yang yanked her hand free, “I told you, Ruby, I’m not here for the clan.”

“Well, why else would you come all the way here?” She asked, trying not to sound hurt.

Her mother and sister glared at each other for a moment, before Raven finally said, “maybe we should talk inside. Come, I’ll make you tea.”

Oh no. 

Ruby knew exactly what that meant. 

The conversation was about to get really serious, and she didn’t want the rest of the clan watching. Raven only ever did that to talk about Ruby’s other mother, the maiden’s powers, and the two immortals.

She wondered what it would be this time.

Raven didn’t speak at first as she made them tea, only responding when Ruby tried to help her. 

Yang too didn’t speak a word, settling for glaring at their mother the entire time. 

Which then left Ruby to awkwardly sit between the two of them, waiting for tea to be served. Not how she expected this family reunion to go.

“So,” Raven began as she sat down, kettle in hand, and poured the three of them their drinks, “have you come seeking answers, or simply a shortcut to your uncle?”

“Why do I have a feeling you’ll give me neither?” Yang asked back.

“Oh I will. I’m not planning on keeping you here any longer than you wish to be kept,” she answered, “what I’m saying is that maybe you would like to hear a new perspective before throwing yourself back into Ozpin’s pointless war.”

Ozpin? 

The evil wizard? 

Was Yang working for him?

“I don’t care about Ozpin,” Yang bit back, “I’m here for my family. My real family. Not the woman who abandoned me when I was still a baby.”

“You did what!?” Ruby blurted out without thinking.

Raven raised a hand, silently asking Ruby to calm herself.

“If I had it my way, our entire family would have come with me and joined the Branwen’s, but Tai and Summer just wouldn’t listen to me,” she explained, frustration in her voice, “in the end it felt like the safest bet to leave you in their care.”

“Oh, it was a safe bet? So why did you take Ruby?” Yang asked, taking the question straight from Ruby’s mouth.

“I didn’t take her… or at least I didn’t know I was taking her,” Raven continued, “I had been back in the clan for weeks before I realized I was pregnant with Summer’s child. I couldn’t just take her back.”

Yang opened her mouth to shoot another barb back at Raven, but Ruby cut her short. “Wait! You… You said mom died to the evil witch. You never said anything about abandoning her.”

“Ruby,” she called, her voice more tender now, as she reached for her daughter’s hand, “I tried to save her. I would have brought her to the camp, and I would have taken care of her just like I did you.”

“So that’s it, huh?” Yang spat, “Summer died because she didn’t listen to you. I lost my mom and my sister because we just didn’t listen.”

“If they weren’t so set on following Ozpin’s orders–”

“Enough with Ozpin!” Yang shouted, “Ozpin didn’t leave her to die! You did! You abandoned us, and you can’t just act like it was all our fault! Mom and dad loved you, and you betrayed them!”

“You don’t know what I do! If you actually knew what you’re up against, you would have begged to stay with the clan!”

“Not everyone is as much of a coward as–”

“Enough!” Ruby yelled.

There was a moment of silence in the tent as they both turned to look at her, neither of them having expected the outburst.

“ Please , enough,” she asked again, more quietly, “we’re a family. I finally got to meet my sister I didn’t even know I had, can we please not spend this entire time fighting?”

Their animosity didn’t drop in the slightest, but at the very least they seemed ashamed enough to try to hide most of it. 

Unfortunately this left them with nothing but an awkward silence in their tent. Simmering anger brought just below the boiling point.

Raven was the first to break that silence, “I’ll open you a portal tomorrow,” Yang rose to argue, but Raven raised her hand once again, “Qrow and your friends won’t die after just one day. In the meantime, try to enjoy some time with your sister. Gods know when you’ll see each other again…”

Oh. Right. This might be her only chance to get to know Yang. Especially if what her mom said was true about what happens to the wizard’s followers.

She could see that Yang wanted to argue and leave immediately, but Ruby couldn’t afford to have their meeting be so short. 

So she shot Yang her biggest puppy dog eyes, silently pleading for her to stay a little longer.

Yang looked back at her, trying to look stern, but quickly caved in. “Fine. But not a day longer.”

~~~

Yang stomped her way into Ruby’s tent, grumbling the entire time.

“Who does she think she is, huh? She keeps acting like she knows more than everyone else, and like nothing is her fault,” she continued as she dropped unceremoniously onto one of Ruby’s beanbags, “she’s just a coward trying to pretend she’s strong.”

Ruby sighed and offered her an awkward smile as she followed her into the tent. 

Yang knew she wanted to defend Raven, even after today’s big reveal it’s not like she just expected her sister to turn against the woman who raised her for 17 years.

“Hey, forget about mom, okay?” Ruby tried her best, sitting down on her bed, “she can be really stubborn sometimes, but you shouldn’t let that ruin your day. I mean we finally got to meet, right?”

Yang sighed, sinking further into the bean bag, “I guess you’re right. It’s nice finally knowing you, Ruby.”

“Yeah, it’s nice knowing you too,” she replied, awkwardly scratching the back of her head, “though I still have no idea how you knew about me.”

“Uncle Qrow told me,” she answered simply, “he kept it a secret for most of my life because he was worried I would throw my life away trying to find you, but after everything that happened at Beacon, I guess he figured I deserved to know.”

“Wait. Uncle Qrow?” Ruby sounded so confused, “mom always said he was a useless drunk and a pervert.”

“He is,” there was no defending him there, “but that doesn’t mean he can’t be a caring uncle when he needs to be. He even taught me how to fight. I almost made myself a scythe because of him.”

Ruby’s little red eyes began to glow at the mention of weapons, “aww, but scythes are so cool. I mean, not to say your bracelets aren’t cool. They’re awesome, but scythes are still scythes.”

“Does that thing of yours also turn into scythe by any chance?” Yang replied playfully.

Ruby gasped in fake shock, “Yang! Black Rose is part of the family! Don’t just call her a thing, like that. She 's my baby.”

Yang giggled at that, “sorry, is your baby also a scythe?”

“Maybe,” she answered, “just don’t tell mom. I don’t think she’d like me taking after uncle Qrow.”

“Your secret is safe with me, sis,” Yang replied casually, earning the biggest smile from Ruby, “what got you smiling?”

Ruby giggled, “I’m just so happy to have a sister now.”

“Yeah, I’m happy too.”

Once again there was silence, but this time it was a comfortable, safe silence. Both of them just enjoying each other’s presence after being denied that for so many years.

“Hey, Yang,” Ruby called, “can you keep another secret for me?”

“Uh, sure.”

Ruby smiled at her, before reaching for her own eyes. One hand held her eyelids open while the other slid something free. 

Contact lenses. The red of her eyes were contact lenses, and under them were a pair of silver eyes.

“You have Summer’s eyes,” Yang spoke, her voice quiet as she saw so much of her mother in her little sister.

“Mom told me the same thing,” Ruby replied, more than a little embarrassed, “but don’t tell anyone, okay? Mom said if anyone finds out I have silver eyes, they’ll try to take them from me.”

“What!? Why!?”

“She said there’s a legend out there that silver eyed warriors have the power to destroy the grimm,” she explained, “so the witch hunted them to near extinction. She said that’s why mom…”

“Right,” was that it? 

Summer had been killed just because of her eyes? 

That didn’t make sense, they were just a pretty color, why would that make them special? 

Though there was a more pressing question in her mind, “you keep mentioning this witch? Who is that?”

“Uh that���s a bit of a long story,” Ruby answered, “though I guess mom would want you to know about it anyways.”

Long didn’t quite cover it. 

Insane might actually be more appropriate. 

Ozpin and this Salem engaged in a never ending war for thousands of years. Magical powers. Fairy tales. All of this was somehow real. 

It couldn’t be.

“You don’t actually believe all that magic stuff, right?” Yang asked, concerned for how much Raven must have brainwashed her.

“I mean, I have seen it,” Ruby shrugged, “mom can turn into a bird, and I’ve seen her do a bunch of weird stuff that her semblance can’t do.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. Magic isn’t–”

“Hey, Ruby,” that smug girl from earlier called as she burst into the tent, “there’s an atlesian ship coming our way and Raven wants you to come check on it with her,” she gave Yang a side eye and added, “bring blondie too.”

Yang wanted to show her what happened to people who called her blondie, but it wouldn’t look good to punch someone in front of her little sister.

“Fine, but don’t expect me to get involved in whatever you have planned.”

~~~

“Doesn’t look like a military ship,” Ruby commented as she peered through her spyglass.

The ship in question was a small cargo ship, the kind designed for fast deliveries of light cargo. Meaning it probably had a human pilot and very little loot to be grabbed. 

Definitely not worth the hassle of taking it down.

“Good,” Raven nodded, “keep an eye on it, we don’t want it finding the camp by accident.”

Behind her Yang thumped her foot impatiently.

“Care to explain why you wanted me here?”

“Consider this a little family bonding session,” Raven answered, “it’s like bird watching, but with giant airships.”

“Right,” she replied, unimpressed.

In that time, Ruby kept vigil over the ship as it flew through the floating islands of gravity dust, and it was then that she saw quite the unwelcome sight.

“Grimm! The ship is under attack by grimm!”

“Crap, let me see!” Yang called, taking the spyglass.

“A Lancer swarm, and a Queen,” Ruby clarified to her mother, “should we interfere?”

“Absolutely not,” Raven’s answer was quick and final, “no need to risk ourselves. Best case scenario we can loot what is left of the ship.”

Yang shoved the spyglass back into Ruby’s hands and stomped up to her mother, “seriously!? Those people could die and all you’re thinking about is how to profit from it?”

“Not profit. Survive!” Raven corrected, “I’m not risking any lives fighting grimm, and if they crash at the very least we can salvage something to help the clan.”

“You’re infuriating!” Yang shouted, “can you care about another person for once in your life!?”

“Uh, guys?” Ruby called, “the ship is coming our way!”

Yang looked up, and she did not need any help to see the ship crashing down towards them, smoke following behind. Though what she did not expect to see was a Schnee gravity glyph trying to keep that ship afloat.

“Weiss!?” She called in a panic.

“The Schnee heiress?” Raven asked.

“And my team mate!” Yang yelled back, “we have to save her!”

“I told you, that’s too risky,” Raven countered.

“I’m not letting my friend die just because you can’t be bothered to–”

And Ruby was gone.

She took to the skies in a burst of petals, landing on the front of the ship as it fell.

She unfurled black rose into her full form as the lancers swarmed around her; a large double-blade scythe, made for slicing grimm.

With a burst of speed, she made short work of them.

One more burst of petals, and she was inside the ship.

A white haired girl stood tall as she continued to conjure those weird glyphs to slow their fall. As much as Ruby would love to chat about her cool semblance and how it worked, they were in a bit of a hurry.

“Hey!” She called, and the girl turned to face her with a confused look, “I can explain later, but Yang sent me. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

The girl looked like she was gonna question her, but the violent shaking of the airship  changed her mind.

“Fine,” she answered, moving to help up the unconscious pilot, “just help me get him up.”

Okay, moving three people with her semblance was gonna be difficult, but she wasn’t about to argue in favor of leaving someone to die.

They moved quickly, carrying the man with them as best as they could. 

Then came another violent shake, and this time they knew why. 

More Lancers came flying by, but not for them. They carelessly hit the ship as they made their way for land, and straight for Ruby’s family.

“Oh no, no, no!” Ruby exclaimed. She wouldn’t be fast enough. There were so many and she couldn't save both these people and her family.

Unless… 

“I’m so sorry for this,” was all she said before taking the both of them into a petal burst. 

They were draining her aura too fast. She wouldn’t be able to get them to shore fast enough.

But she didn’t have to.

 She just needed to get them low enough that they wouldn’t get hurt.

She dropped them both into the waters of the lake below, shouting “I’ll be back!” Before flying off again to help her family.

Black Rose’s scythe mode cut the Lancers to pieces as she came flying down towards her family, but there were so many, their barbed spikes raining over Yang and Raven.

No. 

No! 

She couldn’t let this happen. 

She already lost one mom. She couldn’t lose another one. 

She couldn’t lose the sister she just gained. 

She wouldn’t let them die!

There was a sharp pain behind her eyes, then a blinding light. 

Silver poured from red and engulfed the lake. A flash bright enough to be seen all the way from the furthest edge of the lake.

Then there was dark, and Ruby plummeted into the waters.

~~~

Ruby had remained unconscious for two days. 

Yang had insisted on staying at camp until she recovered, much to Weiss’s pain, though she of all people understood worrying so much over a sister.

By the time she had woken up though, Yang had not been allowed in her tent. 

Instead only Raven could enter, a decision Ruby did not seem to agree with.

Their shouting match went far into the night, and it surprised Yang just how much energy her sister seemed to have after all this. It seemed righteous fury ran in the family.

Though the sound was muffled, it was easy to piece together what they were shouting about. Especially when the name Summer came up so many times.

Then came a loud stomping as Raven left the tent. 

She caught Yang and Weiss waiting outside, and rightfully assumed that they knew exactly what was going on.

“You two better take good care of her,” Raven said, “I won’t have her meet the same fate as her mother.”

Weiss scoffed, that little expression of displeasure doing wonders for Yang’s mood. 

It was good having her to back her up again.

“Don’t worry, mom,” Yang answered, “Ruby actually has her family to back her up.”

Raven did not answer the barb, just sighing heavily and walking off to her own tent.

She hadn’t been out of sight for too long when Ruby stepped out, Black Rose strapped to her belt, and a bag on her back, “so - uh - do you have room for one more on that bike of yours?”

Yang smiled, “always got room for my little sister.”

[ao3feed-zukka]

Yesterday is Ashes

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/h0kXtvu

by alivingfire

Sokka takes a strategic step back, but he also smiles: triumphant, like he baited Zuko into exactly what he wanted. Like it’s a challenge. It’s the same way he looked when they sized each other up at the prison, with Sokka in chains that left red marks around his wrist, in tattered prison garb, malnourished and angry. Back then, that was Sokka saying: I see your power. I see you. Now, see me.

Zuko saw him then. And he sees him now; different, but the same. I see you.

Zuko lights his daos in flame. Sokka grins, back to gravel and heat. “Come on, Fire Lord. Impress me.”

Zuko burns. His vision flickers with fire. His heart races. His blood sings. His body is like a magnet, pulling ever onward to meet Sokka’s. He advances.

He pins Sokka to the wall, blades against his throat.

Or, Zuko found Aang first, Sokka and Katara were imprisoned in Boiling Rock, and all Sokka knows is he's pretty sure he's not supposed to think the Fire Lord is attractive but he's never let things like rules stop him before.

Words: 89921, Chapters: 4/4, Language: English

Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Aang (Avatar), The Gaang (Avatar), Toph Beifong, Katara (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar), Azula (Avatar), Suki (Avatar)

Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)

Additional Tags: canon is the napkin upon which i wipe my sticky little fingers, Zuko Joins The Gaang Early (Avatar), Boiling Rock Prison (Avatar), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Mutual Pining, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Sexual Content, Resolved Sexual Tension, zuko is shirtless a lot. sokka spends time contemplating his bad luck., Idiots in Love, Oblivious Zuko (Avatar), zuko has a type and it's people who hate his dad more than he does, the ember island players make an appearance, what else, azula is a bitch and we love that for her, Sparring, specifically sparring as a flirting mechanism, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, canon rewrite to make the angst Pop, Ambassador Sokka (Avatar), POV Alternating, so we can really feeeeeel the pining, Minor Katara/Yue - Freeform

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/h0kXtvu

[ao3feedzukka]

Yesterday is Ashes

by alivingfire

Sokka takes a strategic step back, but he also smiles: triumphant, like he baited Zuko into exactly what he wanted. Like it’s a challenge. It’s the same way he looked when they sized each other up at the prison, with Sokka in chains that left red marks around his wrist, in tattered prison garb, malnourished and angry. Back then, that was Sokka saying: I see your power. I see you. Now, see me.

Zuko saw him then. And he sees him now; different, but the same. I see you.

Zuko lights his daos in flame. Sokka grins, back to gravel and heat. “Come on, Fire Lord. Impress me.”

Zuko burns. His vision flickers with fire. His heart races. His blood sings. His body is like a magnet, pulling ever onward to meet Sokka’s. He advances.

He pins Sokka to the wall, blades against his throat.

Or, Zuko found Aang first, Sokka and Katara were imprisoned in Boiling Rock, and all Sokka knows is he's pretty sure he's not supposed to think the Fire Lord is attractive but he's never let things like rules stop him before.

Words: 89921, Chapters: 4/4, Language: English

Fandoms: Avatar: The Last Airbender

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Aang (Avatar), The Gaang (Avatar), Toph Beifong, Katara (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar), Azula (Avatar), Suki (Avatar)

Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)

Additional Tags: canon is the napkin upon which i wipe my sticky little fingers, Zuko Joins The Gaang Early (Avatar), Boiling Rock Prison (Avatar), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Mutual Pining, Firelord Zuko (Avatar), Sexual Content, Resolved Sexual Tension, zuko is shirtless a lot. sokka spends time contemplating his bad luck., Idiots in Love, Oblivious Zuko (Avatar), zuko has a type and it's people who hate his dad more than he does, the ember island players make an appearance, what else, azula is a bitch and we love that for her, Sparring, specifically sparring as a flirting mechanism, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, canon rewrite to make the angst Pop, Ambassador Sokka (Avatar), POV Alternating, so we can really feeeeeel the pining, Minor Katara/Yue - Freeform

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/38624070

[shimmersing]

Constellation

Part One | Part Two | Interlude | Part Three

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen Relationships: Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Male Republic Trooper, Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Republic Trooper Characters: Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Qyzen Fess, Yuon Par, Parkanas Tark-Lord Vivicar Additional Tags: Angst, Tython, Emotional, Mentioned Mutual Pining, Fluffy, Sad, Melancholy Returning to Tython after shielding the last master suffering from Vivicar’s Force plague, Aitahea is faced with more struggle in her efforts to heal the Order and keep the Force in balance. Tired, injured, and longing for someone she can’t have, perhaps ever, the lines of her responsibility as a Jedi and her own convictions begin to blur. As Aitahea nears the end of her quest to save Yuon Par and the other Jedi Masters, she’s confronted with painful revelations and answers that only give rise to more questions. Shouldering the lives and minds of Jedi across the galaxy – alone – may prove to be more than Aitahea can bear.

Part Two

“Thank you for coming. I have made all the preparations for the ritual to find Lord Vivicar.”

Yuon turned to greet Aitahea with a rueful smile. “I plan to create a connection between us, using your shielding ability. If it is - was - Parkanas, this should work. Drawing on your strength, I will invert the link between myself and Vivicar and use it to sense his location.”

Aitahea didn’t know the details of what Parkanas might have experienced, nor did she wish to know. She did understand that as a result of what had occurred on Malachor Three, Yuon Par and Duras Fain were the parents of Laranna Fain. All of the Masters involved had abandoned Parkanas, whom they should have protected, she realized in dismay. That’s what the Jedi were, protectors, defending the innocent and championing justice, weren’t they? What did it mean, truly, that Yuon had called Parkanas weak?

“Don’t expose yourself to Lord Vivicar’s influence any longer than you must, Yuon.” Aitahea found herself whispering a plea. “Please.”

If this failed, it would cost lives, Yuon’s and Aitahea’s surely among them. In the quiet moments after her crying had passed, she’d discovered a calm remnant of strength, her private conviction that being a Jedi meant protecting everyone she possibly could.

Focusing on these newborn doubts would not benefit anyone. Her trust felt shaken, but Yuon had never brought her to harm before.

“I won’t. For your sake, as well as mine.” Yuon sighed, resignation in the drop of her shoulders. “There are risks. For one, the shielding you gave me on Coruscant will be severed.”

Aitahea flinched. The shielding had become a comfort, perhaps not so unlike the Force bond that some Masters and apprentices formed through training. But as a shield and not a true bond, it was more akin to a signal she could check at will, adjust, improve, and repair as necessary. Aitahea thought of both Yuon and herself as fiercely individual in certain ways, and she’d never truly considered the implications. It had simply been so crucial, so necessary.

“I don’t know what will happen then,” Yuon continued, looking focused and prepared again. “It’s possible I could die once your shield is gone.”

“I’ll protect you, Master.”

“With your strength to sustain me, we will do what we can.” Yuon forced another smile, little more than a grimace. “No matter what happens, you must give me as much time as possible. Reversing the link may be a long process.” She knelt on the carpeted floor. Aitahea followed suit, while Qyzen stepped back to lean watchfully against a pillar.

“Let us begin.”

The Force wrapped her, whole and complete, and Aitahea suddenly recalled a childhood visit to an artificial sea on Coruscant. She’d been young; the memory was little more than a hazy sensation of warm, buoyant safety. Yuon’s presence across from her smoldered like the banked embers of a fire, steady and glowing.

Sinking further into the lull of meditation, Aitahea found herself adrift in the numinous experience of the Force. On Tython, with her own Master, under the watchful eyes of the Council, Qyzen’s comforting presence near them, in the safest place in the universe. All was as it should be. For a moment, she rested calmly in the knowledge that she had everything she needed.

Then Yuon’s gentle warmth grew abruptly fierce. An unnamable distress gripped Aitahea; the profound embrace of the Force around her shuddered. An unnamable something snapped, and Aitahea gasped aloud at the acute absence of her carefully constructed shielding. Her eyes flew open to see Yuon swaying.

“Yes, yes – it’s working. I can feel his mind and… uhhh… I can feel—I…” Yuon’s words trailed off, reeling listlessly for a horrible moment. Just as Aitahea was about to call her name, Yuon’s eyes opened.

Only they were not Yuon Par’s eyes. With horrible, sickening recognition, Aitahea felt the tendrils of darkness that she’d battled for almost a year once again entangling her beloved Master. When Yuon opened her mouth, it was not her voice that spoke.

"She can feel the power that she’s challenging." Yuon slowly stood, motions mechanical. “There is no hope.” Aitahea reeled back in alarm, and Qyzen hissed a sibilant curse. Vivicar laughed, examining Yuon’s body as though it were a costume he wore.

“Yuon has drained your strength and made herself vulnerable to me. Still arrogant and reckless.” Turning back to Aitahea, Yuon’s head tilted in a horrible parody of affection, her Master’s face a rictus of agonized delight. But it was Vivicar’s voice that uttered her name.

“Aitahea.” She shuddered but held her ground. “You don’t look as strong as you did last time we spoke.”

Inhaling slowly, Aitahea raised her eyes to meet the horrible, mindless stare in her Master’s face, thoughts racing to find a response. “I know your name,” she exhaled in a shaky whisper. Vivicar twitched Yuon’ lips into a smirk but offered no reply. Aitahea continued, voice trembling. “You were once Parkanas Tark, a brave Jedi. You could be that man again.”

“The past means nothing,” Vivicar growled, waving a hand. “All that matters is the future, which doesn’t involve you, Aitahea.”

She clenched her jaw at his mockingly familiar use of her name, restraining a distraught scream of please stop. It would only fuel him further.

“See how Yuon’s will crumbles before mine.” Vivicar threw Yuon’s head back with a laugh, casually plucking her lightsaber from her side. Aitahea felt frozen; she could not bear fighting Yuon again, not after Coruscant. But when Vivicar ignited the blade, the usual lively green replaced by unthinkable red, she stumbled back in incomprehensible terror. Every cell of her being shrieked at her to flee. Yuon’s careworn face sneered down at her with unrecognizable hate. “Fitting, that two of my enemies will destroy each other.”

Stunned into a blank, silent moment by the abject horror of her present, Aitahea observed her own motions as if they were saber stances, performed by an initiate in practice. Lightsaber hilt to hand. Ignite. Ready position. Block, but if the blade isn’t fully —

Aitahea was shocked to find herself pinned brutally against the back wall, the ruby blade just inches from her skin. Qyzen was already aiming, but Vivicar flung out Yuon’s hand and threw him to the opposite corner. Aitahea took that moment of barest distraction to send Vivicar himself flying, then climbed unsteadily to her feet and placed herself between Vivicar and Qyzen.

Vivicar drew Yuon’s body up, limbs dangling as though they were on strings, a youngling’s broken toy. Qyzen pushed to his feet again, growling a string of curses behind Aitahea, who hesitated at the sight of Yuon’s lolling head and drooping eyelids.

At serious risk of toppling over, Yuon bent unnaturally and picked up the saber that had tumbled from her hand. Aitahea could sense that Yuon had been knocked unconscious by her reckless, panicked Force push, but Vivicar still drove her lifeless body forward.

“Parkanas Tark, Yuon Par was your friend!” Aitahea dodged a clumsy thrust. “Did she never once show you kindness, that you can do this to her? Release her! Parkanas, please!”

Aitahea blocked a second inept strike, and for a moment, Yuon’s eyes cleared, her voice was her own. “Aitahea!”

Vivicar stumbled back, clutching at Yuon’s head and keening pitifully. Yuon’s saber hilt clattered to the floor again. Aitahea reached for it, only for anguish to pierce through all her shields, white-hot agony suffusing her. Distantly, well beyond her own tormented scream, Aitahea somehow heard Vivicar’s wail become Yuon’s voice again.

“It… It worked!” Yuon cried, her own eyes peering out from her spent, elated face again. “Listen, Lord Vivicar… he’s out in deep space, on some sort of vessel… the coordinates!” Her hands reached out, beckoning.

Aitahea, panting in the wake of the assault, looked around for the datapad they’d had nearby, hoping that it hadn’t been damaged in the struggle. A cluster of Jedi had crowded into the doorway, alerted by the unusual commotion. Aitahea found and handed the datapad to Yuon, who began softly muttering as she searched the galactic map.

“He’s surrounded himself with defenses. Send this. It’s his code. It will give you… time to get aboard.”

Yuon pressed the datapad back into Aitahea’s hands, then sank to her knees again, clutching at her head. “No—the darkness… Vivicar’s will is too strong!”

Over one shoulder, Aitahea addressed anyone who was listening, fighting an overwhelming fatigue. “Fetch the Council and a medic immediately!”

“Yes, Master!” came a chorused reply as several youthful volunteers scattered. A few others began to clear the hallway in a spurt of practicality.

“I can’t hold on! Please, kill me!” Yuon threw her head back, arching her spine, a strangled moan tearing itself from her throat. “End it now!”

“No, Yuon. You’re safe now,” Aitahea soothed, Qyzen thankfully at her side again. He lifted the datapad from Aitahea’s hands so she could pull Yuon into her arms, willing the shattered shielding back in place.

Excruciating moments passed, punctuated with agony that Aitahea couldn’t identify as hers or Yuon’s or a lingering effect of the ritual. It was tedious and exhausting, like the time she’d attempted to paste back together a statuette of Master Gnost-Dural that a youngling under her care had broken. Pieces had been missing, and she’d been unable to fully complete the repair. Now, she filled in cracks and breaks with what felt like pieces of her soul.

Finally, the shielding began functioning. She could feel every straining fissure.

Yuon groaned, shook her head, and pulled herself from Aitahea’s tenuous grasp. “The darkness… it’s gone.” Yuon passed a hand over her face, blinking as though she’d woken from a long slumber.

“I’m glad, Yuon,” Aitahea murmured, swaying. Yuon started, suddenly recognizing her former student’s distress. She grasped Aitahea’s shoulders, steadying the other woman.

“You—you look exhausted.” Guilt flickered over Yuon’s face like a shadow. “Aitahea… You have sacrificed so much for me.”

Aitahea offered a doleful half-smile, struggling to keep her eyes open. “The Jedi way is to serve. Vivicar should no longer be able to influence you, Master,” she assured Yuon.

Several Padawans rushed into the room and began fussing over Yuon, her keepers that Master Satele had mentioned during their first meeting, she assumed. Qyzen leaned down and offered a scaly arm to support Aitahea as she struggled to her feet.

“Your shielding has driven him from my mind,” Yuon said. Brushing off the exasperated Padawans, she caught Aitahea’s other hand between her own. “Thank you.”

Palm to palm, Aitahea sensed the delicate strength of her shield, already showing signs of deterioration. “Of course, Master.”

The Padawans rushed in as soon as Yuon released Aitahea’s hand. “I—I must rest.” She blinked, and two of the Padawans took her arms, making soothing sounds. “Master Syo and the Council. They must hear of what we’ve learned.”

“Herald needs treatment for injuries,” Qyzen added as Yuon was pulled away.

Aitahea felt utterly wretched yet single-mindedly determined to end the plague as swiftly as possible. They knew where Vivicar was hiding. They could end it all in just hours.

“The Council first, Qyzen.” Aitahea lifted her hand experimentally off Qyzen’s steadying arm, feeling the lump in her throat tighten when her legs quivered. She took a breath, then a step, and finally waved for Qyzen to follow. With a shake of his head, Qyzen acquiesced, staying a step behind her.

By the time they’d reached the Council chamber, Aitahea had reached deeply into the Force to dampen the pain of her injuries and the fatigue of conflict. It didn’t eliminate her agony, but it allowed her to focus long enough to deliver her debrief to the Council.

“The ritual was a success,” she began. “Lord Vivicar is out in uncharted space in a hijacked vessel, the Progress. He knows I’m coming.”

“Now only your shielding ability can stop him,” Master Satele said, the other Masters nodding their consensus.

“You’ve shown great fortitude and once again saved Master Yuon, despite the odds.” Master Syo leaned forward in his chair. “But Lord Vivicar will have made preparations, and he still has his greatest weapon—the plague itself.”

Aitahea took a tremulous breath. “I believe I can save him, Master Syo. Now that I know who he really is, I could return Vivicar—Parkanas, that is—I could return him to the light.”

Syo shook his head. “A noble thought, Aitahea, but don’t take unnecessary risks. Your shielding ability is our only hope.”

Master Jaric finally spoke. “Jedi, you’re exhausted. You need medical treatment and rest.” Qyzen grunted beside her in rare agreement with Master Jaric.

“There’s no time to waste, Master. We must move now, before Vivicar strikes back,” Aitahea argued. “I can recover en-route; I have a very capable crew waiting.”

Syo glanced at Satele, then gave Aitahea an reluctant nod. “Go to the coordinates quickly. And, Aitahea—may the Force be with you.”

Aitahea accepted the dismissal with a shaky bow, unable to trust her voice, and left the Council chamber. Qyzen followed, arm steady as he offered it to her again.

“Herald cannot—”

“Qyzen, we must,” Aitahea interrupted. “I’ll rest on the Luminous, Sia will manage the flight, and Tharan and Holiday can offer some assistance, I’m sure.” Qyzen hummed a skeptical agreement but said nothing.

They limped to the shuttle pad. Aitahea idly hoped there wasn’t a trail marking their path after she noticed the oozing wound at her hairline. No wonder the Council had looked so concerned; she probably looked a fright. With the coordinates already sent to Prelsiava onboard the Luminous, they could leave as soon as they were onboard. Then she would rest.

Qyzen mindfully guided Aitahea to a seat on the shuttle. She spent a few moments in unsteady healing efforts, but her grasp of the Force felt tenuous now, soaring thousands of meters above the sacred ground of Tython. Finally, Aitahea shambled on leaden feet through the orbital station to the Luminous, ready and waiting.

See-Too made a little stuttering gasp of alarm when he saw Aitahea climbing the stairs to the main deck and tottered over to fret as they ascended the stairs; Qyzen had kept her upright through the orbital station, but Aitahea’s fragile strength was nearly spent. “Master Jedi, we must get you to the med bay at once!”

“Kriffing hell, Ai.” Sia pushed past the droid, slinging Aitahea’s arm over her shoulders. “What happened to you?” she asked, dragging the barely-conscious Jedi to the med bay. Between them, Qyzen and Sia got her onto the observation bunk while See-Too went in search of Tharan.

Aitahea roused, seizing Sia’s sleeve. “Are we leaving?” she whispered, eyes briefly opening to squint blearily at the pilot.

“Got underway as soon as you closed the hatch.”

Aitahea sighed deeply, the faintest smile on her lips as she closed her eyes again. “How long?”

“Six hours or so, if I got the calculations right, and I always do. You’ve got to rest. I’ll get Tharan and Holiday in here to patch you up at least, bandage that head wound. Don’t give me that line you always do about self-healing.” She folded her arms, disapproval in her narrowed eyes. “You’re starting to scare me, Aitahea. Very little in the galaxy scares me; you know that. When does this end?”

“Soon,” Aitahea murmured. Sia sighed but didn’t press her further.

“You’d have been better off staying on Tython where they have a full medical suite, you know,” Tharan mentioned casually when he walked in, Holiday on his heels. He scanned a few labels before selecting a medical stim and a sedative from their supply. “Fortunately, See-Too has done exceptionally well keeping our stock current. You’ll recover quickly.” He unceremoniously injected Aitahea with the drugs, efficiently bandaged her obvious wounds, and then ushered everyone briskly from the med bay. Aitahea was asleep before they left.

Her wrist comm beeped; a call was coming through. Aitahea stirred but drifted back into stillness once the alert ceased to sound. A few moments later, the missed contact’s ID popped unseen onto the display:

Lieutenant Erithon Zale.

Constellation: Part One | Part Two | Interlude | Part Three