Riven Wight

Mystic Orphanage (Aristocles and Siaya Dragalorn)

The taller, tight-lipped woman now standing beside Serapis pursed her lips. “I’m aware of that, Serepis. We,” she nodded to her shorter companion, “were there. I meant here.”
“Mae,” the plump, curly-haired woman interrupted, looking up from Valera, the glow around her fingers diminishing. “I need to get her armor off.”
“I-is she okay?” Seaella squeaked, setting her bow against the wall then leaning against the side of the bed her sister laid in
The plump woman looked to her. “She will be.” She looked to her companion as Mae strode to a folding screen sitting against the wall and brought it toward the bed. “But you need to go with the headmasters. We’ll take care of her.”
Seaella shook her head.
Mae frowned, and looked to Thayva for help.
The dracon stepped toward Seaella, then knelt down in front of her.
Seaella gripped Valera’s staff tightly, holding it awkwardly in front of her, the bag her sister had given her held just as firmly and dangling down the shaft.
“I’m not going to hurt you, elfling,” Thayva said soothingly, offering a reassuring smile. “As intimidating as we may look,” she glanced to her husband, “we’re only here to help. But your... friend? Sister?”
“Sister,” Seaella answered in a tight whisper.
“She needs tending to. And our healers need quiet and privacy to work.” Thayva slowly held out a clawed hand toward her. “Will you please come with me? We can get you something to eat and warm to drink while we wait for Mae and Poppy to finish. They’ll notify us immediately when they’re done.” She looked to the healers for confirmation.
Mae nodded, her fingers impatiently tapping the side of the curtain.
Seaella glanced indecisively between the healers, Valera, and Thayva. She bit her lip for a moment, then finally nodded.
Thayva gave her a warm smile. When the child made no move to release the staff to take her hand, Thayva straightened and stepped slowly toward the door, her eyes on the girl to be sure she followed.
Seaella reluctantly stepped from the bed, her head turning to glance back at her sister frequently as she slowly followed Thayva out of the infirmary and toward the kitchens. Her grip never loosened on the staff or pouch, her mind ever on her sister and chest aching with worry.

* * *

“No kidding,” Nick said with a snort. With his vision better in the dimness of the mansion, he stepped confidently toward the dorms. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Hope they’re both okay, though.”

Melodramatic Deities and an Ageless Taste for Pizza

No need to apologize! I completely understand. :-) There is absolutely no hurry here. Write when you can and have the inspiration to do so!

Melodramatic Deities and an Ageless Taste for Pizza

Alrighty! You have a fantastic night, and I hope you get some good, well-deserved sleep. I'll be sure to do just that. It's quite magnificent.

Until anon, my friend!

Melodramatic Deities and an Ageless Taste for Pizza

Awesome! Thanks! :-)

Melodramatic Deities and an Ageless Taste for Pizza

Awesome sauce. No need to apologize! It happens. It's easy to forget that you're the only one who actually knows what your character looks like. One other appearance question, though! How old does he look? Teens? Twenties? Thirties? Etc.?

Melodramatic Deities and an Ageless Taste for Pizza

She trusted him. Though she could not say why, something deep inside Anora bade her to believe what he had said, his words echoing in her mind. Though she knew little of magic, she had no doubt the surge of strength that had rolled over her had been sent from him.
Now, leaning against the car she doubted would provide much--if any--protection, she listened to the voice of the gray-skinned man as it traveled down the street. His words confirmed what Anora had felt; the silver-eyed man who had helped her was none other than the mysterious Pahnjaka.
She felt the sickness and dizziness that accompanied the overuse of her powers fade quicker than it should have, allowing her to slowly rise to her knees, careful to keep her head behind the car’s hood. But the questions still remained: who was he? What was the connection between him and her? Who was the gray-skinned man, and what did he want? Or the reptilian woman, for that matter? Were the two connected somehow, or was their appearance sheer coincidence?
She shuddered as a sensation between the prickle of being watched and having the contents of an egg slide over her skin encompassed her. She dared to poke her head just far enough above the car to see the gray-skinned man looking in her direction. She gasped and ducked back down, though she knew it would do no good.
Of course he would have noticed her. To someone who could aid in the destruction of a city block, locating someone like her must have been child’s play.
Faster than Anora would have thought possible, a black mass burst into existence and stained the sky as far as she could see, a large, gruesome face jeering downward as a menacing red light formed in the depths of the face’s open jaws. She barely had time to open her mouth, gawking at the manifestation that blotted out the sun yet left its light, before the red energy shot down in a fierce ray toward Pahn.
“No!” she shouted, hopping to her feet and placing her hands on the car’s hood. But the word had barely left her mouth as Pahn's silvery disks flew up to meet the ray.
With a bone-rattling explosion, the two energies collided and created a blinding flash of white light that bleached the world.
Anora gasped and fell once more to her knees, her eyes closed and head bent. The light radiated through her eyelids for a short second, the clatter of loose stones and chunks of broken concrete rolling around her as a fierce wind blew through the streets.
She only opened her eyes when the sound of metal-on-metal assaulted her ears. She dared to look up at the face still hanging in the sky. Another glowing orb of red had begun to pull in its mouth as white, radiant spears pierced its dark form, one after the other. Anora lost count of how many of the massive shapes penetrated it before, at last, the mass dissolved beneath the power of the spears. Without the mass of clouds to keep them in place, she watched as they fell to the earth.
Anora went to poke her head up again to see what damage had been done to the fighters, when a gray dust cloud rose from their fight.
She gasped and ducked back down as it shot toward her, making her body as small as possible. Just as the cloud hit, she thrust a hand out over her, and one of her forcefields formed in an arc above her. All the same, she bent her head as if to better protect it. The clunk and clatter of small bits of rocks and broken bits of cement falling to the earth thunked around her, bouncing off the car beside her and raining down on her force field. Small golden ripples erupted over the veined purple with each piece of debris that hit.
When the harsh rain stopped and all fell still, Anora let her shield dissolve away and cautiously stood. Though dust still hung in the air, she could make out a deep crater where the two men had stood, layers of concrete, gravel, and soil all blown away with Pahn only just visible to her from its center.
“Pahn,” she breathed in a mix of fear and relief, using the nickname she had heard the gray-skinned man use. But as she watched, he did not move.
Why isn’t he moving? Panic settled in her chest as the dust finally fully cleared. The aura that had radiated from him had died down, but still it hung in the air.
In the light of the sun that now shone its face once more upon the town, despite the slight haze that still hung around him, she noticed thick liquid dripping down from the corner of his mouth.
Is that... blood? She held her breath. He was hurt, and there was no telling where the gray-skinned man had gone. The desire, the need to protect him, to remove him from harm’s way, welled inside her.
Any thought of her own safety tossed aside, she vaulted over the narrowest part of the car’s hood and hit the ground on the other side running. She tripped when stepped wrong on a slab of uneven concrete, nearly making her stumble into the gigantic crater head first.
The ground around his feet was quickly turning to mud. A familiar crackling buzz sounded softly from the opposite side of the hole. She looked over, and gasped; severed underground electrical wires dangled from the driest portion of the hole, and the foul water was mixing dangerously fast with the soil and creating wet pools.
“Pahnjaka!” she yelled urgently from the rim of the crater.
If her voice did not stir him to action, Anora cast a fearful glance to the live wires. Though unsure if the waters thick with mud would conduct the electricity or not, if the water rose faster than the dirt could absorb it, she feared the worst. Moving as quickly as she could, she dangled her legs over the side of the crater, then dropped down. She landed with a sickening wet squealch in the softened soil. She pulled her boots free from the strong grasp of the mud beneath the layer of water that had formed on top, and sloshed toward Pahn, her gaze focused on the wires and mud at her feet.
Once close enough, she finally looked up to him as she reached a hand toward him. She paused, incapable of keeping herself from marveling at his appearance. He towered nearly a foot above her. Everything from his chiseled features and muscles, to the age and knowledge beyond his years swimming in the depths of his silvery, angered gaze looked... perfect. The rage on his face sent a shudder down her spine, making her wish she could wipe it away and replace it with something more fitting for a being like him.
Shaking her head to pull herself back to the task at hand, she gripped his wrist tightly, half expecting it to be made of the marble he seemed to be carved from instead of soft flesh.
“Listen to me!” She shook his arm and cast the wires another glance. “We need to go! Now!”

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Izzy nodded and sighed at his anticipated silence. Slowly, she straightened one of her legs on the floor from where she sat, reached into her pocket, and removed a hair tie. Pulling back her hair, she quickly tied it up, exposing her neck. Without a word, she scooted closer to him and reached to wrap an arm around the child’s frail form. She refused to let her hold on him falter, careful for fear of hurting him as she tried to turn his attention from his struggles to her throat. She almost sighed in relief when her efforts worked, and he calmed down. She inhaled sharply when she felt his fangs pierce her skin, but it faded quickly, replaced by the sensation of him drawing her blood.
Confident he would not try to pull away, she loosened her grip on him, one hand awkwardly rubbing small circles on his back, trying to convey that, no matter how things felt today, they could only get better.
She took a slow breath and closed her eyes.
Her last statement to him was more than just a promise, it was a vow. She was not here out of obligation, but because she wanted to be. Fate had dealt out her cards, but she was the one who had chosen to play them in this way. No matter what the future had to dish out, they were in it together, bound by invisible threads they had unknowingly been weaving together from the night they met, threads strengthened by the scars they now shared.
This, Izzy felt, was only the beginning of their story, a story of two wounded, fractured souls.

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Izzy gasped and scrambled further from the door, her hands on the gravel and pieces of crumbling bricks behind her, when Riley’s voice came from the doorway. She gave an exasperated exhale at being startled by his sudden appearance.
“I had no other intention,” she muttered, reaching for her staff and using it to help her back to her feet as Riley continued speaking. Though she knew he had heard it when Trevor used it, she looked at him in surprise when he called her by her name. Unsure what to say to his offer, she watched him return to the school, sure the noise he made on the main floor was for her benefit.
She stood there for another few minutes, her gaze distant in thought, before she took a breath then entered, heading once more to the top floor. In the room where the child sat, unmoving, she leaned her staff in the corner opposite him. She spared him a quick glance, wondering if he had even slept, then went to sit beside him, leaving only a few inches between their sides, and mimicking his position.
She sat there for a couple minutes, letting the silence fill the room, her gaze on the far wall.
“You have every reason to hate me,” she finally said without looking to him, unsure if the child was even listening, if enough of who he once was remained for him to so much as lend her a thought. “But the choice I made was not to turn you into...” her lips curled down as she snorted, “into my pet. It was just... the better option. You said you’d made your choice when your first thrall killed himself.” She paused, her head bending to look at the tops of her bent knees. “Like I told you, I know what it’s like to lose someone you care for. I... I lost my best friend because I was too stupid to suggest turning back. Our parents were friends before we were born, so we practically shared the same cradle. We were more like sisters than anything.” She tried to swallow past a lump in her throat, her voice heavy with emotion, and eyes watery. “In the blink of an eye, she was gone. Fourteen years of friendship severed in the matter of seconds.” She exhaled shakily. “It’s been almost four years. It didn’t take the town long to forget about her, but not a day goes by where I don’t miss her.” She crossed her arms atop her knees, and rested her forehead on them. “That might not seem like a long time to an immortal, but to us humans, it may as well be an eternity.
“I’ve been where you are, wanting to follow in her footsteps so I wouldn’t have to wrestle with the pain of it anymore. I...” she swallowed, her voice growing softer, “I tried. But at the last second, I couldn’t. But it’s a good thing. If everyone else in this wretched town wanted to forget her, then I was the only one left here to keep her memory alive. There wouldn’t have been any poetic justice in it, just a cowardice and insult to her memory. And I wasn’t going to take part in you making that mistake.”
Izzy straightened and wiped away a tear with the back of her hand. “So. Hate me all you want, Cerasus. Spend the rest of however long our lives last now giving me the silent treatment.” She turned her head to look at him, her gaze boring into him. “But no matter what happens, I will not give up on you, and I won’t let you give in.”

Melodramatic Deities and an Ageless Taste for Pizza

Hmm. I would LOVE a detailed description of Pahn if you're up for giving one! Unless I've overlooked or forgotten details, I believe all I really have is silver eyes, casually dressed, and the recent addition of supernaturally handsome.

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Izzy held her breath as she returned Cerasus’ detached gaze. No, not Cerasus, not anymore. What sat before her now was all but an empty shell of the man he had been, the anger in his dull golden eyes chilling.
“What?” she asked, looking to Riley as he began. Her face fell as he continued. She had not thought about it like that. But now, looking at the child sitting in the corner, the truth of his words hung heavily around her. “I-I didn’t... That’s not...” She gave a jittery exhale. The room around her suddenly felt like it was closing in around her and the child, the cold the walls managed to retain seeping into her bones. “I need some air,” she finished hoarsely, scrambling to her feet. She all but ran down the steps, her head bent and stomach churning.
Just outside the front door, she stepped to the side and leaned against a patch of wall not coated in ivy. She ran a hand down her face. She had turned Cerasus into the very thing she had loathed being. A pet. No. She had still had her will, her moxie. What was the once grand, proud Cerasus was now little more than a wisp of his former self, stripped even of those.
She sunk to the rocky ground with a sob, her staff clattering to the weed-caked ground beside her, and placed her head in her hands as tears spilled from the corner of her eyes.
“What have I done?” she moaned into her palms in scarcely a whisper.