‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

▬▬▬▬▬

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎𝐒𝐇𝐄'𝐒 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The hunger in Morrow's dark dilated blight eyes shouldn't belong there. Despite the tumbles in their love, he never viewed her as if she were deserving of his bloodshed. Now, he hunts her as if she were a flea waiting to be crushed by a giant, a hare running from the wolf's jaws. It's the same body that's supposed to love and cherish her, but it's filled with the darkness of a man set on destroying all sources of light.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She bursts out of the sanctum doors into the corridor, frantically looking over her shoulder to see if the alpha chases her. A starved growl echoes against the stone walls, followed by the dragging of that silver sword. Rage swells from inside of her at the sight of that single weapon, because it only means that Rhimme knows his weaknesses. The were hate silver. The wyng hate iron, and yet, Morrow stalks her without feeling pain, all because he's trapped in Rhimme's control.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow appears at the far end of the corridor, encased in his black wings. She's never been afraid of him. Not until now when he's unpredictably volatile.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen shakes her head, tears caking to her skin. "This isn't you!"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎No words come from him as he edges closer to her.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Morrow, listen to me!" she cries to him in an attempt to be the voice of reason. "Rhimme's got you under his control! You don't really want to hurt me, do you?"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎His fingertips remain scorched in blight, the poison infecting him for the second time. His infection is purposeful, a simple reminder that everything she has is only a fleeting moment in time, that she can lose him with the snap of Rhimme's fingers.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A ravenous growl breaks through his gritted canines. She doesn't want to hurt him, but she can't take his blows if he decides to attack unless she defends herself. It's not Morrow, she tells herself on repeat. If she doesn't fight back, he'll tear her to shreds unless he finds clarity. And if she does choose to fight... she'll never forgive herself for what she'll do to him.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Tears continue to stain her cheeks as she tumbles backward, her spine colliding with another set of double wooden doors.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Please, don't do this," her sob echoes off the cathedral glass ceilings. "It's me! It's Elowen, the one you love, your mate!"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎His pace increases, his strides longer as the distance between them closes. He bares his sharp jagged teeth, his features twisting with a hungered lust for blood and carnage.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎There is no light in him now.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Only Rhimme's consuming darkness.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She pushes through those double doors as the icy breeze of the outdoors swaddles around her skin and rakes at her single feathered wing. A courtyard. She studies the dark silhouettes around her, noticing that it's mostly blight-shrubbery and gardens overrun with mutinous weeds. She needs to hide, because she knows she can't outrun Morrow on her scrawny legs.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She finds herself running towards the center of the courtyard. Stone statues litter the space, some deteriorating over time, while others chipped and abused. The tallest of them all is a fountain of an ancient god wearing an elegant robe with a sceptre in hand, the water no longer running. She darts towards it so she can stash herself behind it.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎As she sprints, a ghostly breeze brushes past her, and for a second, darkness overruns her vision. Within the blink of an eye, black ether swirls around her until a figure appears at the fountain's edge.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Rhimme stands upon a stone ledge, his arms crossed around his chest with an amused smirk on his lips. "You're going the wrong direction. The torch for the eternal flame is that way."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her fists clench and the hum riles from the depths of her. There's no point in trying to stop the onslaught of ancient magic about to unleash from her, because she's going to need every strength she can get. Rhimme is a powerful ancient—so powerful that he can transport himself betwixt shadows and control the minds of other beings like it's nothing.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Which means he can crush Elowen whenever he pleases.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You bastard!" Elowen seethes. "You're killing him by giving him the blight!"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Rhimme shrugs like it's nothing. "He's the least of my concerns. I'm more worried about the little ancient half-wyng roaming this place with her magic still intact."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Behind them, the doors to the courtyard tear open by the sheer raw force of Morrow's claws. Only now, he's half hunched, his body a grotesque form of a half-shifted man on the brink of becoming his full menacing wolf. She gulps, swallowing down her ever building fears. No amount of ear scratches will save her from him if he decides to go rogue.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Rhimme appears behind her, his voice a cold whisper against her pointed ear. She hates having him so near to her, but his smoke seems to follow her wherever she goes.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I'll keep him alive if you agree to my demands. All I ask is for your magic, and I'll provide for you here at my home. And he," he's so close to her that she can feel the polar heat of his exhale, "he will live. I promise you that."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"It's all bullshit!"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Don't be saying that. I'm still a man of my word, Elowen."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She spins to face the devil incarnate. She despises that he's rather charming behind his smiles, despite the wickedness that roams his blackened heart.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"A man of your word? You told me I could ignite the flame, and you wouldn't stop me. Everything you've told me is a big fucking lie!"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Not everything," he pushes his tongue to his cheek in thought. "The dog is trying to stop you. Not me."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You're the one controlling him!"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The smirk that once dressed his fine lips vanishes as he uncrosses his arms. "My patience is wearing thin with you. There's still time to be persuaded, but until then," he flicks his wrist towards Morrow, who hasn't moved since his arrival to the courtyard. "I'll let him do most of the work."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"He won't kill me," she spits. "I know Morrow, and I know that there's still a part of him that's ready to defy whatever you tell him."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The ancient lets out a stale chuckle. "You're a humorous one, but don't let me get in the way of your little reunion. If you need me, I'll be waiting to see you light that goddamn torch you're so bent about."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You fucking—"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He poofs into black ether, disappearing from the courtyard as a shroud of dark fog hovers over her vision, the mist now singeing her skin in nipping frost. She winces. Her wyng blood should be so accustomed to the cold, but not when it feels like a frozen bite.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Through the bleak gloom, Morrow's silhouette inches closer to her. There's blood dripping down his cracked knuckles, evidence of the blight eating away at his appendages. He lets out a husky growl, this one so low that it almost quakes the earth.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"It's me," she cries breathlessly. She uses her energy to sift through her bond, trying to attach herself to his aura so she can reinstate it from its severed form. There should be something, even if it's just an inkling of his wolf.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He stands only a few feet away now, wings extended so wide to trap her in. She cowers backward, her legs finding the edge of the ancient fountain and refusing to let her go farther.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Tears continue to stream down her cheeks. "I don't want to hurt you," she sobs. "I know you're still somewhere in there."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A blood-curling growl silences her cries as he snatches her forearm with a claw. Nails dig deep into her skin, so deep that blood begins to trickle down to her fingertips. He leans in, nose sniffing like the wolf he is as if to get a hold of her scent. Her magic will pain him, and it's a last resort that she'll use if she must.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He towers over her as he gazes down, his nose brushing over her temple.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Blight eyes meet her silver.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I'm your sparrow," she whispers, cupping his cheek. For a moment, a tinge of meadowed sage brushes the edges of his irises, a colour that laps like swaying grass near his pupils. It's small, a blink and she would never have known.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The Morrow she loves is still in there, begging to fall into her arms.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎But this other version of him, his cruel exterior, is far from the man she'd grown to love.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You're just a flightless bird," his voice curls.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He moves quick, digging another claw into her skin and pulling. The flesh on her arm tears as she manages to break herself free, squirming from his grasp and away from the fountain. Through her blurry-teared vision, she catches a maze of shrubbery ahead, and she pushes through the thicket.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Blood drips down her arm as she inspects the newfound wound. She can try to coax the old Morrow out, but as of now, the blight is in control of him.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He's going in for the kill.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She sprints further round every corner, attempting to lose him but knowing full well that he can track her scent. Damn him for having those heightened were senses. Every second she evades him gives her more time to think of a plan to... to do something. She's not sure whether she should go and light the flame or try to save Morrow's blight induced soul.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen rounds corners of hedges as the growls of Morrow dim. She slows her pace, gripping the area of her arm where his claws dug into her flesh.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow, she coos in her mind. Don't do this. This isn't you!

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She waits for his response, only to be answered with silence.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She can stand there and try to persuade him, but he's only become entranced by the dark with no hope for the light. Her heart breaks in half. She can't save him without saving the rest of Aelethia first, and the cost? The cost might just be him in the wreckage.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Black wings soar above her head as Morrow lands just feet from her. He swipes his bicep as if to get her in a headlock, but she ducks and dodges, rolling away from his advance.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎With one longing helpless gaze upon her mate, she lets her light awaken.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The ground quakes beneath her feet, the shrubbery around her rattling at the raw expense of her power. Light pools from her fingertips, her once silver hues transforming into the bright radiance of the sun. She won't kill him—but she does need him to be tamed.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Within her hold, she forges stray beams of light into a bow, and in the other hand, an arrow. It'll be enough to stun him while she retreats back to the sanctum towards the eternal flame's torch. Who knows what damage her light will do to his shadows, but she loves Morrow. She loves him enough to do what he's always longed to do: protect his pack from danger.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She pulls the light bow's string as Morrow decides on another attack. The arrow soars through the air between them and—

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She misses.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She was hoping that maybe some ancient god would bless her with archery skills, but it's not like she's ever shot a bow in her entire life.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The bow vanishes into stardust within her hold as her flight instincts kick in. She runs back into the maze of shrubbery, the growls of the half-shifted beast behind her echoing in her ears. Her legs strain with every stride, her body begging for her to rest. She knows she has to keep up the fight, and all she has to do is sustain herself until it's all over.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎But when will it be over? Will she even make it to the sanctum before Morrow tears her apart?

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She exits the maze of shrubbery and catches a large set of doors leading back into the Acropolis. Morrow prowls on her heels, his shadow almost overlapping hers as she bolts back towards the exquisite monument of a building. He's a fury of growls and ferocity, and she's nothing but a little mouse trapped in his game.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She's near the doors, only a few paces away...

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her foot snags on an old ancient tile uprooted by the garden trees. Her knees skid against the dirt and stone pathway, her body hitting the ground so hard she blacks out for mere milliseconds.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎When she comes to her senses, Morrow stands above her with a smirk of pure venom.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You lose," he says, although it doesn't sound like him. It sounds like Rhimme taunting her from afar, because he watches her within these shadows, revelling in her despair.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Tears wet her cheeks as her palms ignite with another burst of magic. This time, the fatigue starts to set in, her body longing to shut down and recover.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Morrow, don't do this," she begs.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎There's no hesitation. He pins her down to the ground and tears his claws right into her single wing and pulls.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She screams, the pitch of the noise so shrill that a window shatters somewhere within the Acropolis. The wing dislodges itself from her shoulders. Everything inside of her trembles and aches, her inner creature pleading with her to make it stop. Her soul begins to slip with every rip of his claws. Tendons snap. Feathers fall to the soil. Blood flows down her back and onto the courtyard grasses, staining the earth, marking another ancient slain.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen closes her eyes. Somewhere, the ancient devil laughs, mocking what had become of her so easily. She thought she could be the one to save Tabrien and the rest of Aelethia. She thought her ancient's magic would be enough. Yet, here she lies, another corpse killed by a puppet of Rhimme.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎This is the end.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Morrow's body pauses, his movements tense. Elowen's lids flicker open as a blinding white spear pierces right into the were-wyng's chest, knocking his body off of hers.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her eyes widen in horror as he rolls over, holding a hand to the place where the spear impacted him: his heart, his mind knocked out. Her wing lies beside him in a mess of red and feathers.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Morrow!" she pleads.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Relax, kid," a voice calls. "I didn't kill him."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen swings her attention to the maze of shrubbery as a man comes out from the thicket. Although garnished in a few new cuts and tattered muddied clothes, it's still the same man that agreed to accompany her in the beginning. Those grey eyes of his are luminous in the dark, his entire silhouette radiating with omnipotent ancient power.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"Th-Thorn?" she quivers.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎He kneels down beside her. She expects him to scold her for being so foolish and almost getting herself killed. It seems she'd disregarded every warning he'd ever given her, but they'd become separated in the shadows. In all honesty, a part of her was convinced a hellhound had truly killed him, or that he'd gotten swept away in the undertow.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Thorn wraps his sinewy arms around her, roping her battered body so close to his chest as he nestles his face into her maroon hair.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"My Elowen," he whispers against the strands. "I thought I'd lost you for good."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Her nails grip into his clothes as she lets out an ugly sob. How he managed to survive this long in Pailon in those shadows is beyond her, but he's always been resourceful. She's thankful that now, he's right here where she needs him to be most.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Thorn pries himself away from his hold, but only slightly. Blood stains his clothes. Her blood. The sight alone causes the wing wounds on her back to splinter in agony.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎The ancient man cups his daughter's cheeks. "He took your wings, didn't he?" he whispers.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎She nods, but it quickly turns into a desperate shake of her head. "He has Morrow." Even though he lies there, currently unconscious, his mind still belongs to Rhimme.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I know."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"What about everyone else?" she cries. "What about Ronyn? And Arion? And the others—"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I can't tell you what's going on, because I don't know," he murmurs, "but we don't have much time. Rhimme will be here to kill us both if we don't move."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Elowen blubbers over a few more words, and Thorn delicately brushes the tears from her cheeks with his worn hands. "I can't fight him. I'm not strong enough."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"You only have to do one thing," the ancient man's lips quip upward. "Run to the torch."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎"I can't. I—"

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A cackle breaks their embrace.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎In a cloud of smoke and shadow, Rhimme reappears in front of them, his sulfur eyes burning with storms. Black either swirls around him in ghouls of twilight, aching to poison them both for the kill.

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎A malicious smirk dresses his fine lips, an image of destruction that will engrave itself into her nightmares. "Look who finally arrived to ruin all my fun."

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

▬▬▬▬▬

papa thorn has finally arrived to save the day. our elowen is completely battered and bruised but she will persevere until... until whatever happens happens :) 

only a few more chapters left! thank you all for being so supportive!

ivy <3