o. when the phoenix dies

PREFACE:
WHEN THE PHOENIX DIES

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ROSALIE HANNIGAN'S LIFE WAS like a burning phoenix; always ready to fizzle out at a moment's notice. The second the blade plunged through her stomach, time seemed to speed up and slow down at once. The world around her stopped turning as Alysanne's blurry figure disappeared back inside, leaving Rosalie alone out in the cold, dark night. And yet, the impact of the cobblestone against her back was quick, harsh, like plucking a band aid from a wound.

Only this wound wasn't one she could recover from with ease. There would be no band aids for family betrayal, for fatal backstabbing.

For that was what Alys was. Family. And she was right under Rosalie's nose since the very beginning. Ready and waiting for the perfect moment to push the blade in deep.

"Rosie?"

The erratic pounding of her heart almost drowned out his voice. Hot tears gathered in Rosalie's eyes as footsteps neared, trailing down her cheeks in steady lines as she tried in vain to call back. But everything hurt, even parting her lips to shout to the frantic boy who was searching for her.

"Rosalie?"

Edmund's voice was louder this time. A moment later, the door swung open, letting in a second's worth of the fight below before the rest was silenced by Edmund's horrible cry. He had found her.

"Rosie... oh my ― who did this?"

In a blink, he was at her side, hands pressed on top of hers. He pulled back just as quick, hissing at the heat of her palms burning up, but he forced himself to go back again, to put pressure on the maroon spot that was growing by the second across the soft green material of her dress.

"Rosie, open your eyes. Tell me who did this."

Through choked cries, she managed to stammer out, "A-Alys..."

"Alysanne did this?" he repeated, a muscle in his jaw ticking as rage followed by realisation clouded his features.

Upon hearing the whimpers Rosalie let out at the reminder, he held back the remark she knew he wanted to make. Instead, with blood-coated hands, he attempted to gather her up in his arms and head towards the edge of the tower where he knew a gryphon would be waiting for him. A sharp scream tore through the air as Rosalie's vision went fuzzy. Edmund, despite wincing at the sound he knew would draw attention to them, merely held her tighter, muttering apologies that Rosalie wasn't hearing as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

He sighed in relief once he saw the waiting gryphon, and prepared to lower Rosalie down when the door, which he'd held shut with his torch just in case, rattled under the vengeful fists of Telmarine soldiers. Edmund cursed under his breath, panic rising at the sight of Rosalie's pale face. Her eyes weren't opening, body hanging limp in his arms. If it wasn't for the faintest rise and fall of her chest, Edmund would've thought she was dead.

They didn't have much time to waste. He needed to get her to safety. He couldn't even fathom the possibility of losing her... However, with not one but two Telmarine soldiers breaking through, and the endless drop of air waiting behind them, he just might if he didn't think fast.

"Rosie," he murmured in the redhead's ear, unsure if she could hear him or not but needing to say it anyways. "I need you to trust me, okay? I'm getting us out of here."

Then, before the Telmarines could come any closer and before he could change his mind, he threw himself and Rosie over the edge of the tower, with only one way down.


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