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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    deimos
    #3
    Ruan
    The first thing he saw through the impenetrable darkness was a thing of foreboding. A wicked and menacing smile with bloodied teeth. Ruan's metaphorical hackles raised, the hairs of his coat standing on end. The wrongness wafted from the beast like a creature from hell. Pale wings lifted slightly, prepared to take flight if -

    A roar shredded the peaceful air. Instantly, from the smokey darkness, a form took shape on top of Ruan. He crashed to the ground with a startled yell. Weight and a sickening stench bore down on him, a scent his wolf knew. Blood. Death. He struggled uselessly beneath the burden.

    I shall do you a favor, Ruan.


    The voice spilled over him, coming as though from the surrounding trees. His ears flattened, but he stopped his efforts and settled with heavy pants, teeth bared in useless warning and eyeing his attacker warily. This one knew his name, knew everything about him without a single breath. He would have a magic like Reagan's, or something similar at the least. She would never use her power this way.
    Would she?

    When you go back to her, intact, you tell her that I said hello, won't you? There's a good boy.


    He knew her. The beast knew his Reagan. In an exchange of magic, he'd seen her life. He thought he'd seen all of it, but this one had not been there. Had she hidden things from him? Or was it just a fault of the accidental magic? She wouldn't knowingly keep something from him.
    Would she?

    Ruan cried out in agony as his graceful wings were forcefully removed. Bone ripped from muscle. Nerves lost contact. And blood, so much blood. Excruciating pain had him folded in on himself, eyes slammed shut tight and watering, teeth clenched. He rode wave after wave of unbearable suffering. What had she done to cause this? His throat strained, his voice locked uselessly within him.

    Thank you for the gift, and now, one of my own -courtesy of those wretched fairies...


    No, he didn't want anything from him. Nothing but his absence. Just LEAVE, his mind screamed. Then more pain as the demon kicked out violently to his gut, knocking the breath from him in a whoosh. He coughed from deep within his throat, his face drained of blood. The slick warmth pooled at his sides, gathered and spilled over, staining his white blanket with dark crimson.

    Eyes. Once dull and dark. Flared to life with the bright light of magic. Returned to the glacial blue they once were. His magic was restored.

    And he hated it.




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    Messages In This Thread
    deimos - by Ruan - 11-20-2016, 04:50 PM
    RE: deimos - by Deimos - 11-30-2016, 05:43 AM
    RE: deimos - by Ruan - 12-03-2016, 08:08 PM



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