𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: powder

   ╰┈➤ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: aviva is a plant murderer

❝ Know this, my child: you are a child of the universe. ❞

Silco had etched those words into her soul from the moment she could form thoughts, reciting them like a prayer "I am not your father, and you'll never know your mother. You may never truly understand where you came from, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that your existence is a gift—a gift from the universe."

It was, without a doubt, the least comforting thing he'd ever told her. Eight years of that hollow mantra hadn't softened the blow. Aviva wasn't a "gift"—she was a prisoner. If she was so precious to the people of Zaun, then why had she never been allowed to meet them? Twelve years of pacing the same dreary halls, and somehow, she hadn't lost her mind.

Or maybe she had. Hard to tell when you don't have a frame of reference, but if this was insanity, it felt disappointingly mundane.

It wasn't for lack of trying. Lord knows she'd made more escape attempts than Silco's men could keep track of. Yet somehow, they always dragged her back. And for a man who supposedly spent every waking moment fighting for Zaun's independence, Silco sure managed to be home a lot.

Except today.

Today, the universe had handed her a rare gift: an empty house. As she sat in the bathtub, smearing dark blue dye over her stubborn white roots, she whispered her gratitude to whoever was listening above. Over and over again, as if thanking them enough might buy her a little more freedom.

It wasn't exactly the smartest move to sneak out with freshly dyed, still-dripping hair, but if she was already breaking her "father's" number-one rule, she wasn't about to break the second: never let her white hair show.

A rule, of course, that he had declared required no explanation.

She ran a towel over her hair, not even bothering to comb it properly. Reaching into her closet, she grabbed a new, pristine cloak and shrugged it over the nearly black blue mess atop her head—something between midnight and ink, dark enough to disappear into shadows. Exactly what she hoped to do.

Thank you to the presence above.

The halls were quiet. Too quiet, even for an empty house. Every scuff of her boots on the stone seemed deafening, every creak of the floorboards like an alarm. She paused at the top of the stairs, debating whether to risk the main entrance or crawl out one of the second-floor windows.

"Windows it is," she muttered to herself, slipping toward the west wing where the ledge outside her room was just wide enough to shimmy across. She'd scoped it out years ago but had never worked up the nerve to try—until now.

The cold night air hit her as she slid the window open. It was bracing, sharp against her damp hair and exposed skin, but it also felt like freedom. For a moment, she hesitated, glancing back at the familiar walls behind her. Then she swung her legs over the sill and dropped onto the ledge.

One step at a time, she told herself, pressing her back to the stone and shuffling sideways. Twelve years of pacing halls was enough. Tonight, she'd see something new, even if it killed her.

Hopefully, it wouldn't kill her. As purposeless as her life often felt, she actually enjoyed living.

Silco had always warned her that the world outside was treacherous, a place she wasn't equipped to survive. He'd told her countless times that Zaun would chew her up and spit her out. But she wanted to see it for herself. She wanted to love Zaun as much as he claimed to.

Aviva was a romantic at heart—hopelessly, almost tragically so. She loved Silco, despite his sharp edges and cryptic rules. She'd even grown to love his men, in a begrudging, *they're-always-there-so-why-fight-it* sort of way. She adored the stubborn little spider plant she kept in her room, fighting to keep it alive despite the constant gloom. She loved painting her nails, letting them grow until they were impractical but perfect in her eyes.

And more than anything, she wanted to love her city.

But damn, Zaun made it difficult.

The air down here was thick, heavy with fumes from the chemtech factories and the cloying scent of oil and rust. Pipes snaked through every street and crevice, belching steam and dripping sludge into the shadows below. The buildings leaned into each other like drunken old men, connected by tangled wires and makeshift bridges. Neon signs buzzed faintly in the gloom, casting harsh, flickering colors on the crumbling streets.

And yet, even in the grime, there was a heartbeat. The hum of distant engines, the chatter of vendors hawking wares, the laughter of children playing in alleyways. Zaun wasn't pretty by any stretch of the imagination, but it was alive. Chaotic, raw, and unapologetic.

Aviva wanted to feel that pulse, to understand it—not through Silco's carefully curated words but through her own eyes.

Tonight, she would. If she could survive the ledge, that is.

Aviva's heart raced as she carefully made her way along the narrow ledge, each step taking her further from Silco's grip. The cool night air bit at her skin, but it felt alive, bracing. It was a small, stolen piece of freedom, and she relished every second of it.

Her thoughts wandered to the sprawling city beneath her. Zaun was everything she had expected and more. It was raw, a tangled mess of rusted metal and steam, glowing neon signs flickering above the grime and decay. It was dangerous, it was ugly, but there was something about it that drew her in. Silco had spent years convincing her that the city was a hellscape—chaos incarnate. But tonight, for the first time, she didn't want to believe him.

Aviva didn't look back as the sounds of the distant group faded into the shadows. She was used to being alone. In fact, the solitude had always been her quiet companion, even if tonight it felt different. The pulse of Zaun seemed to beat louder now, as if calling her in, urging her to step deeper into its gritty embrace.

She moved swiftly through the winding streets, her feet light but sure on the uneven cobblestone. The air here was thick—heavier than she remembered, thick with oil, smoke, and something else she couldn't quite place. The distant hum of machines was constant, almost comforting. It was the city's heartbeat, steady and unrelenting.

The further she went, the more the streets shifted around her. The glamour of the upper districts was long gone, replaced by the raw, unrefined chaos of the lower levels. This was Zaun—the true Zaun. The slums, the underbelly, the place where the people who didn't have the luxury of being "safe" or "protected" lived.

She passed a group of children playing in a narrow alley, their laughter sharp and bright despite the stench of chemicals and the clang of distant machinery. They were covered in grime, their clothes threadbare and patched up, but there was a wildness in their eyes—a spark of life that, for some reason, made her want to stay. She almost stopped to watch them but kept walking, letting the rhythm of their energy mingle with her own.

Zaun was alive, in its own brutal way. Its beauty wasn't in polished streets or perfect smiles. No, it was in the way people survived, adapted, and thrived against the odds. It was in the faces of those who had nothing but still kept going, heads held high, even if the world around them seemed intent on tearing them down.

She reached a street corner and paused, letting the wind rush past her as she surveyed the path ahead. The buildings here were even more dilapidated, leaning precariously like they might collapse at any moment. The streets were narrower, the shadows deeper. Faint light flickered from rusted neon signs and makeshift lamps, giving the city a dreamlike, almost haunting quality.

Her gaze drifted over the crowd—people pushing carts, shouting bargains, their lives playing out in snippets she could never fully understand. A pair of women sat on a low crate, patching up their boots, while an old man shuffled by, his hands wrapped around a tin cup filled with something that probably wasn't safe to drink.

A sense of disconnect washed over her. She was here, but she wasn't one of them. Not yet.

As much as she tried to bury it, the ache of her isolation gnawed at her. Silco had always told her that she was special, that she was different, but in a way that always made her feel like she was meant to watch the world from a distance, never really be a part of it.

She wasn't like them. Not truly.

But tonight, as she moved through the streets, the night air heavy with the scent of burning metal and smog, she couldn't help but feel like she was getting closer. Closer to something she didn't have a name for. A feeling that, for the first time, she might belong somewhere in this chaotic mess of pipes, factories, and flickering lights.

Aviva walked on, past the market, where the noise was louder and more frenetic, deeper into the city's pulse. Every step brought her further from the safe, controlled walls of Silco's home and closer to whatever it was she was searching for.

Tonight, Zaun felt like home. In a way that made her both hopeful and terrified.

She wasn't sure where the night would take her, but for the first time, it didn't matter. She was ready to find out.

Aviva had wandered farther than she'd intended, lost in the hum of the city, until the sounds of the street faded into an eerie quiet. She was deep in a narrow alley now, the walls closing in around her, the air thick with the smell of rust and oil. The only light came from a flickering lamp overhead, casting long shadows that stretched across the ground like ghosts.

She paused, her eyes scanning the alley, heart still beating a little too fast from the thrill of being out in the open. The city was quieter here, but the weight of that silence made her uneasy.

The weight of stillness.

Her attention snapped to a small figure crouched at the far end of the alley, hunched over something. It was a girl, no older than her, with wild, unkempt hair and a grimy, oversized jacket. She was working on something—her small hands moving quickly and urgently.

Aviva hesitated, unsure if she should approach. The girl hadn't noticed her yet, absorbed in her task. She almost looked like she was... fixing something? Her fingers were nimble, delicate even, in the way they worked with the scrap of metal before her, though her hands were smeared with dirt and grease.

Curiosity tugged at Aviva, and she found herself inching closer, drawn to the strange energy this girl seemed to exude.

"Hey," Aviva called out, her voice tentative, but loud enough to break the silence.

The girl's head snapped up, wide eyes flashing in Aviva's direction. For a moment, neither of them moved. The girl was frozen, her posture tense, as though ready to bolt at the slightest movement.

"Who—?" she started, her voice hoarse but sharp, before she seemed to realize that Aviva wasn't a threat. She blinked, relaxed just slightly, though still on edge. "What do you want?"

Aviva wasn't sure what she expected, but the girl's directness threw her off guard. She cleared her throat, unsure what to say. "I... I didn't mean to interrupt. What are you working on?"

The girl glanced down at the pile of scrap in front of her, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, as if proud of whatever she was doing. "Fixing stuff," she said simply, the words almost too fast. "I find broken things. Makes them useful again." She didn't seem to care much for explaining further, already reaching for another piece of metal with nimble fingers.

Aviva took another step closer, intrigued despite herself. "You do this a lot?"

The girl gave her a quick, sideways glance. "Not that it's any of your business," she said with a sudden cheeky smirk, her hands never stopping their work, "but yeah. I do. Keeps me busy."

There was something in her tone that made Aviva laugh despite the situation. The girl had a strange energy about her, one that was both carefree and sharp at once, like she didn't have the time or patience for anything unnecessary.

"I'm Aviva," she offered after a moment, unsure why she felt the need to introduce herself. Maybe it was just the pull of the girl's presence. "I was just... roaming. Haven't really been out much."

The girl raised an eyebrow at that, giving her a once-over as if trying to assess what kind of person Aviva was. "Roaming, huh? *That* explains a lot," she muttered under her breath before returning her focus to the metal scrap in front of her. "Well, you're in the right place. The city's got all kinds of places for roaming."

Aviva found herself a little surprised by the girl's bluntness, but she wasn't offended. Instead, there was something refreshing about it. This girl wasn't pretending to be anything she wasn't. She wasn't trying to be nice, or overly friendly—she was just... herself.

"Do you live here?" Aviva asked, before realizing how that might sound.

The girl looked up, her grin widening. "Yeah, something like that."

Aviva hesitated again. "Can I... Can I stay and watch?"

The girl's eyebrows furrowed for a split second before she shrugged. "Sure. No one's stopping you." Then, with a laugh, she added, "Not like you'd be the first to watch me work."

Aviva wasn't sure what it was about this moment that felt so right, but she found herself sitting down against the wall next to the girl. For the first time that night, she wasn't worried about being caught or where she was headed. She was just... here, in this moment.

The girl didn't talk much after that, her focus returning to her work. But every now and then, she would glance over at Aviva with a look that was part challenge, part curiosity, as if waiting for her to speak. And every time, Aviva stayed silent, content to simply watch.

In this small, quiet corner of Zaun, with its broken bits of scrap and the hum of the city surrounding them, Aviva felt something shift inside of her.

She wasn't alone anymore.

❝ STOP PLAYING WITH YOUR FOOD.❞

Silco's voice was low, his gaze focused on the girl across the table. She was pushing her food around, clearly uninterested in the meal, the lentils barely touched.

"What, you don't enjoy lentils anymore?" he asked, his voice teasing.

"Have I ever enjoyed lentils?" she muttered, arching a white eyebrow at him.

"You tolerated them," Silco retorted with a smirk.

"Well, maybe tonight I'm not feeling it," she replied, still not touching her plate, her eyes flicking back to him. "Not like you're actually eating either. You're just blowing smoke into the air."

Silco leaned forward, his smirk widening as he blew a teasing puff of smoke right into her face.

She coughed, waving the fumes away with a hand, eyes narrowing in mock offense. "Oh, please—could you not? The air in this house, in this city... it's already enough to kill Teacup. You're just adding to it."

"I'm not sure it's the air that's killing your plant, Butterfly," he teased. "You've been through 7 this year. It's March."

Aviva rolled her eyes, the deep gold of them glinting as she leaned back in her chair, clearly unamused.

"You're impossible," she sighed, though a slight smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Aviva rolled her eyes, the deep gold of them flashing with annoyance. She had grown used to his teasing, but tonight, it felt like one more reminder of the world she was trapped in. Every conversation with Silco was a subtle reminder of how tightly he held the reins. The walls felt like they were closing in.

"I'm going to my room," she muttered, standing up from the table. The familiar weight of the room felt suffocating, the smell of the food mixing with the smoky haze.

"Of course you are," Silco said, with a bemused glance. "I'll see you in the morning Butterfly."

His words lingered in the air as she moved toward the door, her heart already picking up speed. She didn't respond. She didn't need to. She wasn't planning on staying in her room, and she certainly wasn't going to obey his orders.

With a glance over her shoulder, she slipped out of the room. The hallway was quiet, the familiar shadows casting long, eerie stretches on the walls. She felt the weight of the house behind her, as though Silco's presence was still pressing on her back, but she ignored it. This time, she wasn't going to let it control her.

As she reached the stairs, she crept down them slowly, making sure each step was silent. Her heart raced as she moved through the lower levels of the house, her thoughts focused on one thing: getting out.

There was no plan. No grand idea of what she was doing. She just knew she had to leave. The city was calling her.

The front door was just ahead, a simple wooden exit that led to the world outside. She hesitated for a moment, listening for any sounds—Silco's voice, footsteps on the floor above—but everything was still.

She reached for the door, her fingers brushing the cold handle. She took a breath, steadying herself, and pulled the door open just enough to slip through. The cool night air rushed in, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she felt a sense of freedom.

She didn't look back.

The streets of Zaun were alive with the hum of distant conversations and the occasional clink of metal. Aviva stepped into the alleyway, the darkness wrapping around her like a cloak. The weight in her chest loosened with every step she took further away from Silco's house. She couldn't explain it, but tonight felt different.

The city, despite its grime and chaos, felt like home to her in a way she couldn't put into words. She was never supposed to be out here, never supposed to be this free.

But she wanted more. She had to know what was beyond these walls, what existed outside the life Silco had set for her.

Her thoughts drifted back to the girl she had seen earlier, the one who had tugged at her curiosity—the girl who was always running around, fixing things. Powder.

Something about her had made Aviva feel... connected. Maybe it was the carefree way she moved through the world, without any of the weight that Silco constantly burdened Aviva with. Powder didn't care about rules, didn't seem to care about the expectations others had of her.

Aviva had to find her again.

She wandered through the narrow streets, the cobblestones slick with the remnants of the evening's rain. She didn't know where she was going, but it didn't matter. For once, she wasn't thinking about what she was supposed to do. She wasn't thinking about Silco or the house she had just left behind.

She was just... moving.

Her eyes flicked around the darkened alleys, scanning every corner. Every shadow felt like it held the possibility of something new. Someone new.

And that's when she saw her—small, hunched over a pile of scrap metal, working on something.

Aviva's breath caught in her throat. There she was again. Powder.

Aviva's footsteps were light, her pulse quickening as she moved through the narrow alleyways of Zaun. The city's grime and chaos felt oddly freeing tonight—like she could breathe again. And there, in the distance, hunched over a pile of scrap metal, was Powder.

Aviva's heart skipped a beat. This was it. She wasn't going to let this chance slip through her fingers. She could surprise her, catch her off guard, maybe even get a laugh out of it.

She crept closer, her movements slow and deliberate. One step, then another. The night air was thick with the familiar scent of rust and oil, but to Aviva, it felt like home. The city was alive in a way that Silco's house never was.

Powder was so focused on her work that she didn't hear the approach. Aviva grinned, feeling a rush of excitement. Almost there...

But just as she was within arm's reach, her cloak snagged on a piece of broken pipe. It was a small sound, a metallic scrape, but it was enough to alert Powder.

In an instant, Powder spun around, her hand going for the metal scrap on the ground as though it were a weapon. Her eyes were wide, a mix of confusion and caution flashing across her face as she scanned the shadows.

"Who are you?" Powder's voice was sharp, her grip tightening on the scrap of metal as she prepared for a fight—or at least for some kind of threat.

Aviva froze, momentarily caught off guard by the quickness of Powder's reaction. She hadn't expected the girl to be so fast, but she wasn't backing down now. She had to own this. She lifted her hood slowly, her face coming into view.

"It's me," Aviva said softly, a grin tugging at her lips as she pulled the cloak back from her head. "Aviva."

The tension in Powder's stance seemed to ease immediately. The metal scrap lowered in her hand, and she stared at Aviva for a long moment, processing.

"Aviva?" Powder echoed, her expression shifting from wary to curious. "What are you doing here? You scared me!"

Aviva laughed softly, raising a hand in mock apology. "Sorry about that. I was trying to sneak up on you. Guess I'm not as good at it as I thought."

Powder narrowed her eyes, her lips twitching as though she might laugh. "You don't sneak around here. People are always looking for trouble down in the Undercity."

"Yeah, well..." Aviva shrugged, still smiling. "Guess I'm trying to find some of that trouble myself."

The two of them stood there for a beat, and Aviva couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over her. Powder wasn't running off. She wasn't screaming. She was just... there. And for some reason, that felt like enough.

Powder let out a breath, the wariness in her eyes softening. "Well, if you're gonna be down here, you might wanna be a little more careful. I'm not entirely sure where in Zaun you're from that you wouldn't know this already."

Aviva crouched down next to the pile, her curiosity piqued. "A fixer, huh? That's pretty cool. I've never been good at making things work. I can barely keep a plant alive longer than four weeks."

Powder tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as though she were trying to read Aviva. "You don't seem like the type to break stuff. What's your deal, anyway? I mean, you don't exactly look like you belong here."

Aviva chuckled softly, glancing around the alley. "I don't belong anywhere, I guess. But I'm trying to figure that out."

There was a brief silence before Powder spoke again, her voice softer now. "Yeah, me too."

The way she said it made Aviva pause. Powder wasn't just a scrappy kid who lived in the Undercity. There was something in her voice, a kind of sadness or longing that Aviva could relate to.

Powder was staring at Aviva, lips pressed together like she was thinking hard about something.

"Hey," Powder called, her voice a little more hesitant than usual. "You wanna come with me? I mean, I don't know... you could see where I live. It's... not much, but it's not here either."

Aviva raised an eyebrow, surprised by the offer. Powder had seemed like someone who preferred to keep to herself. "Your place? You sure? I'm not exactly the best company."

Powder shrugged, a half-smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I don't mind. Besides, Vander won't care. He's cool. You might even like it there."

Aviva hesitated for a moment. Vander. She'd heard the name before—someone important in the Undercity, a protector of sorts. Maybe it was the right move, maybe it wasn't, but she'd never known someone to offer company like this before. And she wasn't about to pass up a chance to see a part of Zaun she hadn't before.

"Alright. Lead the way," Aviva said, her voice light, and a small, genuine smile crept across her face.

Powder's face brightened immediately, and without another word, she turned and motioned for Aviva to follow. "Come on, then. I'll show you where it's at."

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒!

This is 4K words I'm not proofreading is. I appreciate the comment from last chapter. I love reading comments. Also I'm not sure if yall know this but jinx is the love interest for this book. I need to make that very clear. Bc Aviva will have a romantic interest/relationship with someone else before it's even apparent that they may have feelings for each other. (Also I write this in my notes app and then copy it here so if you see a * know that's because I meant to italicized it and I just forgot.)

I appreciate all the support upon my return and I will be trying my hardest to put out one chapter each day. I think today I'm doing three tho.

Vote and comment I love to hear from you and question of the day:

who's your favorite arcane character?