five minutes earlier...

❩❨

SHE AWOKE TO the sound of screaming.

Her sleep had been undisturbed enough —the nightmares were beginning to come less frequently. They were thankfully not about her parents or Joshua Walker, but that didn't make them any less scarring. That didn't make her wake up in any less of a cold sweat.

Her recent dreams had been more centred around finding herself out on the street again. She supposed that no matter how much she suppressed it, the thought of being kicked out never left. Purple was no exception, regardless of any promises that had been made.

Her own parents had done it, and they had had legal obligations to look after her.

Purple was being understanding and sweet for the time being, but Georgia would not let her guard down. She would not let herself trust anyone too completely, just in case they would not last in her life.

She wondered if she would always be so on edge.

Right then, though, Georgia had to think about the screaming. She had to push her thoughts aside, and concern herself with her generous carer's safety.

The shriek from the front-of-house had been such a jarring sound that Georgia yelled herself as she shot up inside of her sleeping bag.

Her first thought was that it was Purple.

Either she was the one who was screaming, or the Dreamcatcher was dealing with a difficult customer.

Regardless, Georgia stumbled out from the slippery bundles and lunged for the door. She did not know what she would do once she got to the front-of-house —she hadn't thought that far ahead.

But she still hauled herself up and pulled on the handle.

She opened the door a crack —and gasped.

The screams were indeed coming from Purple, who was lying on the floor and writhing in pain. Then Georgia saw the cause: one of Purple's ankles was slimmer and bony and blackened.

Her body moved of its own accord, almost forcing the door open further, but as soon as she saw the threat —an Elf dressed in dark robes with shadow magic —she knew that Purple would prefer that she stayed in the back room, out of harm's way.

Yet the teenager's heart wrenched at the sight.

Purple looked so helpless, but Georgia knew that her eyes would be indignant and defiant. Ablaze.

The magic was spreading on her leg.

Georgia began to panic further. Her hands pushed against the door again. She would open it this time. She would open it and rush in to —

And then the Wytch from the day before opened the front door, her blue magic sparking.

I COULD NOT think properly around the pain.

It was not just a part of me that had died —the decay spread like an infection, clawing its way through my veins and tissue. It left uselessness in its wake. And I screamed —there was no other way to react.

The sensation consumed and wrecked me so thoroughly, yet I still witnessed what Kynes did.

The Wytch and the Elf were a blur of blue and black —the shadows and cyan magic swimming together in a sea of mist. The Elf would not give up. Yet the darkness cowered from Kynes, never daring to touch her, wither her. As though it knew that she could do much worse; in the way that her magic whipped against his with a viciousness that could not have been condoned in her coven. Then I saw a flash of Ivory.

Kynes drew her dagger —her Man-Hunter dagger, and swiped furiously. My eyes widened.

I thought she had come to save me, but her drive had morphed into obliteration.

"Do not kill him!" my own voice screamed.

I did not know if she heard me. If she did, she ignored the outburst entirely. She did not turn her attention from the Elf, from their fight. Light, beam and shadow exploded and gyrated between them.

Kynes could not —I would not allow her to take his life. Not with that knife, or any other. It simply was not right. He was a lonely, saddened male —he knew no better. And his family was out there, waiting.

He had to return to them.

"Kynes, no!" I begged, falling forward. I then uncoordinatedly crawled on my hands and knees.

I heard a slash. Then another. And another.

One landed, and the Elf cried out in pain, the darkness flaring as though it shared in the feeling. Green blood splattered, and soaked into his tattered tunic.

I screamed again.

The pain now seared towards my knee.

Kynes would not relent. Her magic slammed into the Elf's repeatedly, each time with more force. The shadows recoiled further and further, curling back into the male. The Wytch's eyes were wholly blue; wholly aflame. Nothing could extinguish it.

"Is it now not enough?!" I cried.

The Elf's magic was retreating, as was he, sensing the unparalleled ability of Kynes. He could surrender. This could all be over with. Yet it continued.

I tried —I twisted and inched forward towards them, and I could swear that I was almost there...and then my legs buckled and I slammed onto the floor. One pain was a merciful distraction from the other; that was still spreading. I would not make it. So I lay there, knowing it hurt too much to move again.

My eyes squeezed shut and my hands curled into fists. No. This was not the way. I was letting this happen. I could do nothing to stop it. I had never felt so completely useless, crumpled there on the floor.

The ringing sound suddenly returned, drawing another scream from me.

There had been another time when I had been paralysed, unable to do anything.

When I was much younger —perhaps three or four, and my governess had taken us to the Beta Plane. We had trekked the forests and climbed the hills until my feet and thighs were swollen and sore. I remembered what she had said. I remembered the reprimand.

'How could you be so weak?'

It would seem horribly unfair to say that to a toddler but I was not human. I was not lowered to that standard. My performance was supposed to be three times that of a human child my age.

Yet I could not cope. I struggled every step of the way; moaning and whining like any mortal. My cries were ignored. And I was pushed too far.

I collapsed in the snow, under the cover of a pine.

My governess had not looked back or stopped —she showed no reaction at all. She had carried on, preoccupied with someone else's achievements.

The cold numbed my limbs. I did not dare to move any time throughout the night. My skin was tinted blue and I was certain that without much effort, one of my fingers or toes would snap off completely.

I felt the weight of reality.

The blistering cold did not care if I was aristocracy or peasant; if my chosen gender was fluid or singular; if I was mortal or immortal. It was the same mercilessness for every creature but one. And I hoped that I would not have to face it.

It was that night that I realised no one cared. Dreamcatchers —Faeries, Elves, Shifters or any creature. Nobody spared a thought for anyone but themselves. The world was harsher than I had thought. Perhaps I was better for knowing that.

I could no longer rely on my tutors, my parents nor my supervisors. The only person who was worth my attention, was myself. I did not need anyone else.

With that thought, I ceased shivering and hoping.

No one was coming for me.

The snows were thicker than usual. I found myself half-buried by daybreak. After pushing off the snow and brushing myself down, I wandered the drifts to try and make sense of where I was. In vain —I recognised nothing. But I had kept moving.

I passed no one except for a flock of fairies collecting snowflakes. They paid me no mind, but I could not help watching them. They were a team —each fairy had a role and a purpose and was supported.

I frowned in thought. Everything would run so smoothly if societies could coexist like that.

The wind howled, shifting the snowfall.

I had then carried on walking.

It was another hour before I had seen it. Perhaps that encounter was the reason I had been so unafraid in the dream where I was taken to the Pine Woods again.

I had seen it first —a polar bear-like creature with the snout of a canine. Just a pup. Its spines of ice and pine branches played a soft tune when it shook free of snow. I was not instinctively frightened.

Which had been my first mistake.

The Icen turned its head and faced me. Its eyes were polished obsidian. I was on my hands and knees, mesmerised. The beast grunted, blowing out a cloud of snow and ice. Then it began to stomp in my direction. Each step seemed to make the pine trees around us tremble. Only when it was right in front of me —only then did I hold my breath and grow nervous.

It sniffed —and then snarled, as though it knew that I did not belong there.

That was when I knew.

The large teeth and how they gleamed; as white and blinding as the sunlight shining on the snow; finally made me realise that this was not a docile creature. But I could not move. I could not look away. That fear-induced paralysis...it felt the same as I was now feeling.

I had seen parts of myself in its eyes: the loneliness, distrust and cautious curiosity.

The Icen did not devour me; it did not tear me in two ( thinking back, it probably thought that I would provide little nourishment if any ). It simply nudged me aside, before stalking away.

I had remained sitting there for five minutes in an attempt to process what had happened.

No such luxury was granted to me now. I was not in the Pine Woods, face-to-face with a fearsome beast. I was right here, in my home, trying to fight for what I believed to be right.

I could not give up and succumb to the helplessness.

My eyes opened to take in Kynes pinning the trembling Elf to the floor, that platinum dagger raised.

I pushed past the pain. I forced it to the back of my mind, and brought the gravity of the situation to the forefront. My fingers on one hand curled into a fist. My other hand stretched outwards towards Kynes.

"No," I said, forcing the word through my clenched teeth.

No light gathered at my palms.

I tried again, my muscles straining with effort. Nothing fizzled to life. I growled, growing desperate. Whatever deity or god or Weaver is listening right now, please grant me the power to put an end to this —even through temporary magic!

I was short on options and I was not devout. Though, it appeared that someone had heard my prayer.

Because magic suddenly rushed out from me —and Kynes thudded to the floor.