:WYRM:
They’re not like flaws, secrets: they’re so much better. Everyone had them, but knowing one gave you power; a kind of power almost greater than magic itself. Secrets could destroy and build, answer questions while creating them. He cannot begrudge Heartfire her secrets because Wyrm has plenty of his own, stacked away in the forgotten corners of his head and left there to gather dust. They were invaluable until you revealed them, like a gun with only one bullet. You get a single shot. And Wyrm? He’s been spending his time trying to become a sharpshooter.
Her smile sets him on edge and for a moment he sees red. A flash of color and a blinding emotion that leaves him blinking rapidly afterwards. She was toying with him. With him, a creature who never lost the game. Her fingers were clasped around the Queen piece and she was moving it decisively across the board to where his King lay open in wait. Wyrm hates her all the more for it, and yet he only exhales loudly while she shifts her resting feet. Her words draw his attention though, and he nods in agreement. “Of course.”
The green creature draws himself up then, head rising to show a clear, luminous gaze. Internally he loads the gun, pressing the bullet to his lips before sliding it into the cold, metallic chamber. “You’re closer to it than you think.” He tells her, the words tumbling from his mouth like a purr. He palms the weapon and cocks the slide, the sound echoing in his thoughts as he mentally raises it to aim the sight between those depthless blue eyes. “What if I told you that I could restore your lost gift, right now?” He questions, and his finger suppresses the tigger in the blink of an eye. The bullet dispels from the gun and Wyrm is left to watch the reaction.
She doesn’t blink, only he does.
Rook to her Queen, overtake and check the King. “But there’s a catch.” He offers, smiling only to himself. There was always a catch.