Eddie’s Words

[Edema Rue she/her]

3 hours ago, Just a Silvereye said:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I HATE YOU

ITS AMAZING

XDDD

[Wittles he/him]

I wasn't fully caught up with all the things, especially Liz, but now I am and OH MY GOSH I LOVE ALL OF IT

THANK YOU FOR SHARING YOUR BEAUTIFUL WRITING

[Selia Xe/fae]

OMG

I’ve only read a couple of your works, BUT I LOVE THEM ALL. They’re so beautiful, and I wish I could write like that.

[Edema Rue she/her]

9 minutes ago, Selia said:

OMG

I’ve only read a couple of your works, BUT I LOVE THEM ALL. They’re so beautiful, and I wish I could write like that.

Thank you so much!! I love words. I don’t know how good of a writer I am lol but practice helps so so much, and so does reading things.

[Selia Xe/fae]

2 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

Thank you so much!! I love words. I don’t know how good of a writer I am lol but practice helps so so much, and so does reading things.

I also love words. I enjoy twisting them so other people are very confused. You know how Kaladin describes Hesina? I’m kind of like that irl. I write a lot of short nonsense that never gets finished *oops*. I read way too much. Recently checked out 18 books at the library. :3

Edited September 1, 2024 by Selia

[Edema Rue she/her]

1 minute ago, Selia said:

I also love words. I enjoy twisting them so other people are very confused. You know how Kaladin describes Hesina? I’m kind of like that irl. I write a lot of short nonsense that never gets finished *oops*. I read way too much. Recently checked out 18 books at the library. :3

I write lots of short stories *cough* not like I have a 24 page thread of them or anything *cough* and it’s my favorite thing

[Selia Xe/fae]

1 minute ago, Edema Rue said:

I write lots of short stories *cough* not like I have a 24 page thread of them or anything *cough* and it’s my favorite thing

Naur of course not. I was working on a story called The Sea Witches daughter for a while. I loved Cecelia but she wasn’t developed enough and felt too shallow. Reading? Same.

[Through the Living Wrath he/him]

I'm honestly kind of scared after reading some of these.

One for you, Rue, and one for... the sheer volume of it. So many.

But the few I did read seemed good (And the writing has definitely improved from the year ago that you put this here)

[Edema Rue she/her]

Guys, I've written so much

So much

I'll put a few things here whenever I pop on

1:

Spoiler

Florin looked up at the sound of clinking chains. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You asked for a colleague, sir.”

He gritted his teeth, barely resisting the urge to throw something at the man."Not him.”

“Sir?”

“Wipe that look off your free," Florin said. "Not everyone wants a traitor at their side.”

The soldier shifted uneasily, looking to his companions for support. None of them would even meet his eyes. "With all due respect, sir, Less is the best. Everyone knows it. He doesn’t fight just any war, and the fact that he’s fighting for us…it means we have a chance.”

No matter how angry he was, Florin was not stupid, and he saw how the rest of the soldiers were nodding along. They nearly worshiped this traitor, so much that they would defend him to their own general. “Fine,” he said softly. "But make sure he’s restrained, and don't even think of touching that gag.”

For three weeks, that was the end of it. Less remained chained in his corner of the command center, silent and tense. Florin could feel him watching and judging his every decision. Still, he refused to give in. He won some battles and lost more. Then more. After one defeat so devastating it could only be called a massacre, he stormed in. He reached for a glass and found that his hand was shaking.

“Are you ready for my help yet?”

Flin whirled. “Who took off the gag?"

Less smiled, dimples showing, eyes dangerously wise. "You can't expect me to answer that." Florin grunted and started searching for a piece of fabric to shove in the man's mouth. “Listen, Flor. It isn't too late. Let me help you." 

“Don't call me that."

Less blinked, but took it in stride. “Would you prefer General? Or maybe the truest title. Brother.”

“I would prefer if you weren’t here.”

“You can be angry all you want,” Less said evenly, “but every time you ignore me more of your people die. You can stop this." Florin said nothing, turning his back on the prisoner. The traitor. That was the only way to think of him. "Please.” Florin started at the sound of that cracked, rasping voice. There was no more of the playful arrogance, no more laughter or lightness. This voice was raw and broken.

"If you want to hear me beg, I'll beg. If you want to throw me back in prison to rot when this is over, go right ahead. But don’t you dare throw away lives because you're too proud to accept my help."

"You betrayed me once,” Florin said slowly, "and I know that you won't hesitate to do it again."

"I serve the people-"

"How many of our people are dead because of you?” Something crumbled in Florin’s grasp. He didn't bother to look at it.

"Not your people, my brother. The people. Not this country or any other. I do it for the soldiers who are dying on the front lines every second that we sit here arguing. I do it for the boys who don't remember why they're fighting or when they last ate. For the people we used to be.” There was a beat, and then the sound of raindrops falling gently onto the roof.

“Do you remember, Flor? Sleepless nights and mud in our boots. Days and then weeks where the only thing we tasted was blood. Splinters of bone that seemed as bright as stars and letters from Mom by firelight. It was a long time ago, and it all seems so distant now. But there are people living those lives right now. In your army, in his, it doesn't matter to me. I don't fight wars anymore; I end them.”

Florin turned. Less was staring pointedly at the ground, muscles tensed and angry. “War is so ugly. If I had a better word to describe it…but I don't think words are enough. Everyone comes out broken, if they come out at all. So much blood has already been shed. So many people are gone. Please, Flor, let me end it.”

Less finally looked up. Не looked wild, young, anguished. Broken. A memory to the surface of Florin’s mind, unwanted but needed. His mother, old and alone.

"War has ruined my sons," she’d wailed. "My Florin will fight until he dies, and my Less will fight forever.”

"I hate you." Florin said quietly. "I hate you for what you did. I hate you for staying young when I had to grow up." He met his brother’s dark eyes, wondering at the things they'd seen. “Mostly, though, I hate you for being brave enough to choose another path.”

He exhaled, letting the loathing that had grown within him for years simmer, then pushing it into the furthest corner of his mind. There would be time for it later. “Where do we start?"

2:

Spoiler

“She’ll work herself to death—”

“Let her.”

“Let her? Captain, whatever grudge you have, now is not the time.”

“I don’t have a grudge.”

“But you’re perfectly willing to let her kill herself.”

“If she dies, she dies. Nothing I can do about it.”

“Of course there is. You can pull her out of this, make her stop.”

“What, so she can drink her worries away?”

“Is that really what she’d do?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. If it matters so much to you, you make her stop.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Training it is, then.”

“Captain, she needs help.”

“Yes. She does. Help that we can’t give her. If we try, we might make it worse. She’s in such a fragile state that anything we do could send her over the edge. So let her train. If she was drinking, I could fix it. If she was moping about all day—like someone I know—I could fix it. She isn’t depressed, she’s angry and she’s terrified. So I’ll let her train. If she dies, she dies, but if she doesn’t she’ll become an asset that no one can refuse. She’ll be worth enough that someone who knows how to help her will.”

“Captain…”

“Stop that.”

“You’re scared for her, aren’t you? You don’t want her to die.”

“I said stop it.”

“You love her.”

“Get out.”

“What you’re doing is brave. It’s stupid and it might get her killed, but it’s brave.”

“Be quiet.”

“Stop telling me to—”

“Do you hear that?”

“Is that…knocking?”

“Excellent. Answer the door and don’t come back. I’ve had more than enough of you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and Angel?”

“Sir.”

“Don’t breathe a word of this. I won’t have you meddling again.”

3: Anyone remember Corin? I decided he was too cool for just one RP, so now he has his own story (and hopefully I'll write more).

Spoiler

“All right, all of you out.” Corin said the words with a half smile, sweeping at the youngest boys with a broom. Everyone laughed, but no one moved. This was almost a ritual now, a habit that had become tradition. “I mean it!” Corin scowled fiercely. “I’ve got paying customers who’ll be here any minute.” He stuck out his tongue as they left. There was no malice between them. Not here. 

“Cor.” He turned, meeting Alix’s eyes with a smile. 

His friend looked distinctly uncomfortable, enough to make Corin frown. “What’s up?”

“I got a message from Dane this morning. He wants to talk.”

Corin’s gaze immediately hardened. “To both of us? We’d have to be stupid to agree to that.”

Alix shrugged darkly. “He says it’s important.”

“Sure it is,” Corin said, clenching his fists. “It’s obviously a trap.”

“I know,” Alix said quietly. “But Cor…I haven’t seen Quinn in a few days, and we both know that Dane isn’t above hostages.”

“Bones,” Corin breathed. “We can’t leave him. He’s just a kid.” They were all just kids, but Quinn…he was young in a way the rest of them weren’t. Body and mind.

Alix nodded. “If he hurts Quinn, I’ll ruin him.”

Corin nodded once, firmly. They didn’t leave their own to die. But… “He could throw us in prison,” Corin realized. “Have us executed. He wouldn’t even need a trial. People like him don’t need permission to kill people like us. If we’re gone, what happens to everyone else?”

“We can’t leave him!”

“I’m not saying we should,” Corin said, raising his hands. “Dust and bones, this is a mess. When does he want to meet?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?!” Alix flinched, his hand going to his belt, and Corin took a long breath. He really was worried if he’d forgotten not to raise his voice around Alix. Every street kid had their triggers. “Where?” Alix bit his lip. “Where, Al?”

“Here.” Alix met his eyes. They were the same age, but all of a sudden Corin’s old friend looked so young. Like…like the teenager that he was, and not the leader of every common thief in the city. “He said he’d come here.”

Corin closed his eyes, gritting his teeth and trying not to scream. It had been too much to hope that Dane didn’t know about the bar. Too much to hope that he might be safe, that this haven he’d created was real. Still…did Dane have any idea what he was walking into? He’d insist that no one else be present, but…this place was Corin’s. He knew dozens of ways out, and Dane never had been able to beat him in a fight. If they were going to meet anywhere, better that it be on his own home turf. “Guess we’d better be ready, then.”

 

Alix had no idea how Corin stayed so calm. When he saw the note, he’d nearly gone and killed Dane right then. And now there he was, right in front of them, and Corin barely blinked. But his friend had always been like that. Poised, ready. Whatever emotion he showed was painted on, a perfect mask. 

“Old friends,” Dane said, smiling cruelly.

“Shut up,” Alix snapped. “Where’s Quinn?”

“The boy is safe.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Alix snarled. 

Dane sighed softly. “Would you like me to fetch him?”

“Yes–” Alix started.

“Wait,” Corin interrupted. He spoke, as always, with a tired rasp that made him sound older than he was. Alix glanced at him. His eyes were on Dane. “Where is he? I’ll get him. You stay here.”

The ghost of a smile flickered across Dane’s face. Alix hated him for that. Traitors had no right to smile. “Clever as always, aren’t you? He’s across the street. Second floor, third door on the left.”

“Guards?”

Dane laughed. Alix hated that laugh more than he hated the smile. “You think he needs them?” Corin’s gaze darkened almost imperceptibly. Alix doubted that anyone outside the three of them would even notice. But Dane did, and it worried him. “No guards. No tricks. I really do want to talk, and if it’ll make you happy to get him back first, go ahead.”

Corin frowned. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. Weirdly enough, it seemed as if he was talking to both of them…oh. A moment later, he’d slipped out the front door. As soon as he was gone, Dane slipped into a chair at the bar, suddenly looking very tired. 

“Do you remember,” he said quietly, “when Cor first said he wanted to quit? We thought he was crazy. We were young, rich, talented. The world was ours for the taking, and he wanted to let it all go.” Dane glanced at Alix, who hadn’t moved. “Sit down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Alix said. “You don’t get to waltz in here and pretend like you care after all this time—”

“What I did was for the best.”

Alix stilled, feeling his anger shift to something darker. Colder. “How many,” he whispered, “of our friends are still in prison because of what you did?”

“Twelve.” Alix didn’t have a chance to be surprised before Dane continued. “Six died in the mines. Three got out, and one more died trying. Twelve of them are still there.”

“But it was for the best.” Alix shook his head, disgusted. “Is that what you say every time someone dies in your factory? That it’s for the best? Those people are just like us!”

Dane stared at the counter, tapping an irregular rhythm. He didn’t look hurt, but he also wasn’t smiling anymore. “It’s been cold recently. Your crew doing all right?”

Alix scowled at the floor. It’s been cold recently…Dane hadn’t slept on the street in a long, long time. But he held his tongue, not saying another word until Corin got back. Alone.

“Where is he?”

Corin held up his hands pacifyingly. “I sent him to the Nest. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to bring him back here.”

Alix sniffed. “You sent him alone?”

Corin fixed him with a hard stare. “He’s been through worse, Al. He’ll be fine.” Alix nodded, chagrined. He wasn’t mad at Corin, he reminded himself. “So,” Corin said, stalking to his place behind the counter and gesturing for Alix to sit. He did. “What can I do for you?”

That same half-dead smile twisted Dane’s face. “Are you offering drinks?”

“I can’t afford to turn a paying customer away; you’re welcome to whatever you’ve got the coin for. Won’t be much to you.” Dane winced and Alix chuckled. Corin was good. 

“Look,” Dane said. “I know you don’t like me.” He paused, waiting for a retort, but Alix had nothing left to say, and Corin was too good of a host to snap. After a pause, he continued.“I have no right to ask for your help. But the fact is, I need it, and I’m willing to pay.”

Alix and Corin shared a glance. Alix spoke first. “A job, is that it? Something none of your rich friends will do?”

“Something none of them can do,” Dane said carefully. “I don’t know anyone with quicker fingers than you, Alix. And no one can fight like Corin.”

“And neither of us,” Corin said dryly, “can flatter quite like you. If Al wants in, he’s welcome to this job of yours. But I don’t forgive traitors, and there’s more at stake than just us.” Alix stood and walked to Corin’s side of the counter, making it clear where his loyalties were. 

Dane’s eyes hardened. “More at stake…yes. There is. Do you really understand what that means?” Alix blinked. Corin suddenly looked nervous. “I’m among the most powerful men in this city,” Dane said. “I own dozens of factories and mills. I can buy, bribe, and blackmail anyone I want, including the governor. You and the rest of the street rats might hate me—but that’s all you are. Rats. If I want the city cleaned out, you and all your friends are gone. If I decide I don’t like this little tavern, there’s nothing you can do. Don’t press me.”

Corin leaned forward. “Is that a threat?”

Dane met his eyes. “Yes. You’re going to help me, or I will end life as you know it. All the little ones who rely on you…I could always use more hands in my factories.”

“You’re sick,” Alix spat.

Dane shook his head. “I do what needs to be done. I use what’s mine, the same as we always have.”

“You’re nothing like we were.” 

Dane shrugged, looking almost regretful. “Maybe not. But I’m powerful, and that’s better.” He stood up, nodding to Corin. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Remember what—and who—is at stake. I trust you’ll make the smart choice.”

I'll put more on at some point, I've been writing a lot on paper and I don't feel like making anything digital right now.

[Through the Living Wrath he/him]

39 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

Guys, I've written so much

So much

I'll put a few things here whenever I pop on

1:

  Reveal hidden contents

Florin looked up at the sound of clinking chains. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You asked for a colleague, sir.”

He gritted his teeth, barely resisting the urge to throw something at the man."Not him.”

“Sir?”

“Wipe that look off your free," Florin said. "Not everyone wants a traitor at their side.”

The soldier shifted uneasily, looking to his companions for support. None of them would even meet his eyes. "With all due respect, sir, Less is the best. Everyone knows it. He doesn’t fight just any war, and the fact that he’s fighting for us…it means we have a chance.”

No matter how angry he was, Florin was not stupid, and he saw how the rest of the soldiers were nodding along. They nearly worshiped this traitor, so much that they would defend him to their own general. “Fine,” he said softly. "But make sure he’s restrained, and don't even think of touching that gag.”

For three weeks, that was the end of it. Less remained chained in his corner of the command center, silent and tense. Florin could feel him watching and judging his every decision. Still, he refused to give in. He won some battles and lost more. Then more. After one defeat so devastating it could only be called a massacre, he stormed in. He reached for a glass and found that his hand was shaking.

“Are you ready for my help yet?”

Flin whirled. “Who took off the gag?"

Less smiled, dimples showing, eyes dangerously wise. "You can't expect me to answer that." Florin grunted and started searching for a piece of fabric to shove in the man's mouth. “Listen, Flor. It isn't too late. Let me help you." 

“Don't call me that."

Less blinked, but took it in stride. “Would you prefer General? Or maybe the truest title. Brother.”

“I would prefer if you weren’t here.”

“You can be angry all you want,” Less said evenly, “but every time you ignore me more of your people die. You can stop this." Florin said nothing, turning his back on the prisoner. The traitor. That was the only way to think of him. "Please.” Florin started at the sound of that cracked, rasping voice. There was no more of the playful arrogance, no more laughter or lightness. This voice was raw and broken.

"If you want to hear me beg, I'll beg. If you want to throw me back in prison to rot when this is over, go right ahead. But don’t you dare throw away lives because you're too proud to accept my help."

"You betrayed me once,” Florin said slowly, "and I know that you won't hesitate to do it again."

"I serve the people-"

"How many of our people are dead because of you?” Something crumbled in Florin’s grasp. He didn't bother to look at it.

"Not your people, my brother. The people. Not this country or any other. I do it for the soldiers who are dying on the front lines every second that we sit here arguing. I do it for the boys who don't remember why they're fighting or when they last ate. For the people we used to be.” There was a beat, and then the sound of raindrops falling gently onto the roof.

“Do you remember, Flor? Sleepless nights and mud in our boots. Days and then weeks where the only thing we tasted was blood. Splinters of bone that seemed as bright as stars and letters from Mom by firelight. It was a long time ago, and it all seems so distant now. But there are people living those lives right now. In your army, in his, it doesn't matter to me. I don't fight wars anymore; I end them.”

Florin turned. Less was staring pointedly at the ground, muscles tensed and angry. “War is so ugly. If I had a better word to describe it…but I don't think words are enough. Everyone comes out broken, if they come out at all. So much blood has already been shed. So many people are gone. Please, Flor, let me end it.”

Less finally looked up. Не looked wild, young, anguished. Broken. A memory to the surface of Florin’s mind, unwanted but needed. His mother, old and alone.

"War has ruined my sons," she’d wailed. "My Florin will fight until he dies, and my Less will fight forever.”

"I hate you." Florin said quietly. "I hate you for what you did. I hate you for staying young when I had to grow up." He met his brother’s dark eyes, wondering at the things they'd seen. “Mostly, though, I hate you for being brave enough to choose another path.”

He exhaled, letting the loathing that had grown within him for years simmer, then pushing it into the furthest corner of his mind. There would be time for it later. “Where do we start?"

2:

  Hide contents

“She’ll work herself to death—”

“Let her.”

“Let her? Captain, whatever grudge you have, now is not the time.”

“I don’t have a grudge.”

“But you’re perfectly willing to let her kill herself.”

“If she dies, she dies. Nothing I can do about it.”

“Of course there is. You can pull her out of this, make her stop.”

“What, so she can drink her worries away?”

“Is that really what she’d do?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. If it matters so much to you, you make her stop.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Training it is, then.”

“Captain, she needs help.”

“Yes. She does. Help that we can’t give her. If we try, we might make it worse. She’s in such a fragile state that anything we do could send her over the edge. So let her train. If she was drinking, I could fix it. If she was moping about all day—like someone I know—I could fix it. She isn’t depressed, she’s angry and she’s terrified. So I’ll let her train. If she dies, she dies, but if she doesn’t she’ll become an asset that no one can refuse. She’ll be worth enough that someone who knows how to help her will.”

“Captain…”

“Stop that.”

“You’re scared for her, aren’t you? You don’t want her to die.”

“I said stop it.”

“You love her.”

“Get out.”

“What you’re doing is brave. It’s stupid and it might get her killed, but it’s brave.”

“Be quiet.”

“Stop telling me to—”

“Do you hear that?”

“Is that…knocking?”

“Excellent. Answer the door and don’t come back. I’ve had more than enough of you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and Angel?”

“Sir.”

“Don’t breathe a word of this. I won’t have you meddling again.”

3: Anyone remember Corin? I decided he was too cool for just one RP, so now he has his own story (and hopefully I'll write more).

  Hide contents

“All right, all of you out.” Corin said the words with a half smile, sweeping at the youngest boys with a broom. Everyone laughed, but no one moved. This was almost a ritual now, a habit that had become tradition. “I mean it!” Corin scowled fiercely. “I’ve got paying customers who’ll be here any minute.” He stuck out his tongue as they left. There was no malice between them. Not here. 

“Cor.” He turned, meeting Alix’s eyes with a smile. 

His friend looked distinctly uncomfortable, enough to make Corin frown. “What’s up?”

“I got a message from Dane this morning. He wants to talk.”

Corin’s gaze immediately hardened. “To both of us? We’d have to be stupid to agree to that.”

Alix shrugged darkly. “He says it’s important.”

“Sure it is,” Corin said, clenching his fists. “It’s obviously a trap.”

“I know,” Alix said quietly. “But Cor…I haven’t seen Quinn in a few days, and we both know that Dane isn’t above hostages.”

“Bones,” Corin breathed. “We can’t leave him. He’s just a kid.” They were all just kids, but Quinn…he was young in a way the rest of them weren’t. Body and mind.

Alix nodded. “If he hurts Quinn, I’ll ruin him.”

Corin nodded once, firmly. They didn’t leave their own to die. But… “He could throw us in prison,” Corin realized. “Have us executed. He wouldn’t even need a trial. People like him don’t need permission to kill people like us. If we’re gone, what happens to everyone else?”

“We can’t leave him!”

“I’m not saying we should,” Corin said, raising his hands. “Dust and bones, this is a mess. When does he want to meet?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?!” Alix flinched, his hand going to his belt, and Corin took a long breath. He really was worried if he’d forgotten not to raise his voice around Alix. Every street kid had their triggers. “Where?” Alix bit his lip. “Where, Al?”

“Here.” Alix met his eyes. They were the same age, but all of a sudden Corin’s old friend looked so young. Like…like the teenager that he was, and not the leader of every common thief in the city. “He said he’d come here.”

Corin closed his eyes, gritting his teeth and trying not to scream. It had been too much to hope that Dane didn’t know about the bar. Too much to hope that he might be safe, that this haven he’d created was real. Still…did Dane have any idea what he was walking into? He’d insist that no one else be present, but…this place was Corin’s. He knew dozens of ways out, and Dane never had been able to beat him in a fight. If they were going to meet anywhere, better that it be on his own home turf. “Guess we’d better be ready, then.”

 

Alix had no idea how Corin stayed so calm. When he saw the note, he’d nearly gone and killed Dane right then. And now there he was, right in front of them, and Corin barely blinked. But his friend had always been like that. Poised, ready. Whatever emotion he showed was painted on, a perfect mask. 

“Old friends,” Dane said, smiling cruelly.

“Shut up,” Alix snapped. “Where’s Quinn?”

“The boy is safe.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Alix snarled. 

Dane sighed softly. “Would you like me to fetch him?”

“Yes–” Alix started.

“Wait,” Corin interrupted. He spoke, as always, with a tired rasp that made him sound older than he was. Alix glanced at him. His eyes were on Dane. “Where is he? I’ll get him. You stay here.”

The ghost of a smile flickered across Dane’s face. Alix hated him for that. Traitors had no right to smile. “Clever as always, aren’t you? He’s across the street. Second floor, third door on the left.”

“Guards?”

Dane laughed. Alix hated that laugh more than he hated the smile. “You think he needs them?” Corin’s gaze darkened almost imperceptibly. Alix doubted that anyone outside the three of them would even notice. But Dane did, and it worried him. “No guards. No tricks. I really do want to talk, and if it’ll make you happy to get him back first, go ahead.”

Corin frowned. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. Weirdly enough, it seemed as if he was talking to both of them…oh. A moment later, he’d slipped out the front door. As soon as he was gone, Dane slipped into a chair at the bar, suddenly looking very tired. 

“Do you remember,” he said quietly, “when Cor first said he wanted to quit? We thought he was crazy. We were young, rich, talented. The world was ours for the taking, and he wanted to let it all go.” Dane glanced at Alix, who hadn’t moved. “Sit down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Alix said. “You don’t get to waltz in here and pretend like you care after all this time—”

“What I did was for the best.”

Alix stilled, feeling his anger shift to something darker. Colder. “How many,” he whispered, “of our friends are still in prison because of what you did?”

“Twelve.” Alix didn’t have a chance to be surprised before Dane continued. “Six died in the mines. Three got out, and one more died trying. Twelve of them are still there.”

“But it was for the best.” Alix shook his head, disgusted. “Is that what you say every time someone dies in your factory? That it’s for the best? Those people are just like us!”

Dane stared at the counter, tapping an irregular rhythm. He didn’t look hurt, but he also wasn’t smiling anymore. “It’s been cold recently. Your crew doing all right?”

Alix scowled at the floor. It’s been cold recently…Dane hadn’t slept on the street in a long, long time. But he held his tongue, not saying another word until Corin got back. Alone.

“Where is he?”

Corin held up his hands pacifyingly. “I sent him to the Nest. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to bring him back here.”

Alix sniffed. “You sent him alone?”

Corin fixed him with a hard stare. “He’s been through worse, Al. He’ll be fine.” Alix nodded, chagrined. He wasn’t mad at Corin, he reminded himself. “So,” Corin said, stalking to his place behind the counter and gesturing for Alix to sit. He did. “What can I do for you?”

That same half-dead smile twisted Dane’s face. “Are you offering drinks?”

“I can’t afford to turn a paying customer away; you’re welcome to whatever you’ve got the coin for. Won’t be much to you.” Dane winced and Alix chuckled. Corin was good. 

“Look,” Dane said. “I know you don’t like me.” He paused, waiting for a retort, but Alix had nothing left to say, and Corin was too good of a host to snap. After a pause, he continued.“I have no right to ask for your help. But the fact is, I need it, and I’m willing to pay.”

Alix and Corin shared a glance. Alix spoke first. “A job, is that it? Something none of your rich friends will do?”

“Something none of them can do,” Dane said carefully. “I don’t know anyone with quicker fingers than you, Alix. And no one can fight like Corin.”

“And neither of us,” Corin said dryly, “can flatter quite like you. If Al wants in, he’s welcome to this job of yours. But I don’t forgive traitors, and there’s more at stake than just us.” Alix stood and walked to Corin’s side of the counter, making it clear where his loyalties were. 

Dane’s eyes hardened. “More at stake…yes. There is. Do you really understand what that means?” Alix blinked. Corin suddenly looked nervous. “I’m among the most powerful men in this city,” Dane said. “I own dozens of factories and mills. I can buy, bribe, and blackmail anyone I want, including the governor. You and the rest of the street rats might hate me—but that’s all you are. Rats. If I want the city cleaned out, you and all your friends are gone. If I decide I don’t like this little tavern, there’s nothing you can do. Don’t press me.”

Corin leaned forward. “Is that a threat?”

Dane met his eyes. “Yes. You’re going to help me, or I will end life as you know it. All the little ones who rely on you…I could always use more hands in my factories.”

“You’re sick,” Alix spat.

Dane shook his head. “I do what needs to be done. I use what’s mine, the same as we always have.”

“You’re nothing like we were.” 

Dane shrugged, looking almost regretful. “Maybe not. But I’m powerful, and that’s better.” He stood up, nodding to Corin. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Remember what—and who—is at stake. I trust you’ll make the smart choice.”

I'll put more on at some point, I've been writing a lot on paper and I don't feel like making anything digital right now.

Hhhhhhmmmm

now I feel like I should be writing

*sigh*

[Edema Rue she/her]

GUYS IM IN LOVE

WITH THIS CHARACTER

who I created

Shhhhh

Aaaaaaanyway, I hope you enjoy and please tell me what you think, I want to polish this scene (then make it grow, which it has already done a lot--it was originally 700 words).

Silver:

Spoiler

“You know,” Ath said, “a lot of people enjoy this.”

“Enjoy it.”

“Sure.” He reached up lazily, the wind dancing through his fingers, down his arm, then nesting amiably in his hair. “It isn’t meant to scare you.”

“I’m not scared.”

Ath blinked, not surprised at the words but surprised that he believed her. “Good.” He nodded and pulled out a handkerchief for the wind to play with. “Good. Would you like to give it a try, then?”

“No.”

Ath grimaced. She was quiet, and he knew she didn’t mean any harm, but it always came off as infuriatingly petulant. Still, she had the most Talent he’d seen in a long time; however disturbing her quirks, it would be worth it in the end. “Why not?”

She cocked her head, studying him. He studied her right back, eyes darkening until she finally looked away. “Don’t want to.”

Ath pursed his lips. It’ll be worth it. “Silver.” Her jaw tightened. He didn’t like using that name, but she’d refused to accept a new one. Until she did, this pain was something she’d have to live with. “I’m not going to threaten you. I’m not going to bribe you. I understand that there are things we’ll need to work through. But if you don’t explain them to me, I can’t help you. You won’t learn. Our way of living is dangerous, and if you can’t defend yourself, they’ll take you back.”

A swallow. A nod.

Ath smiled warmly. “I want you to change the world, Silvie. You’re too good to get locked up again.”

She nodded again, and this time Ath stayed silent, letting her think. Letting her feel. He watched her jaw tighten, her chest inflate, then deflate. “I don’t want to,” she said again, quieter. Smaller. “I don’t want to let it in.” Ath raised an eyebrow. “The wind. It makes me a monster.”

Ath blinked again, feeling a sudden chill rush into his heart. How was it that she always seemed to surprise him? “What do you mean?”

“It—” Silver took a breath. Then another, her fists clenched tight. Ath’s handkerchief fell to the floor, as if the wind were watching. “I tell myself stories,” she finally said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “I always have. There’s no other way to survive. I try to…to stay good. But the wind makes me a monster.” She blinked rapidly. Ath knew she couldn’t cry any longer, but old habits die hard. “There’s no other way to say it. When I use it, I feel powerful.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Ath prompted. 

“Yes.” She said the word vehemently, more sure than he’d ever heard her. “Yes, it is, because then I stop wanting love, or comfort, or even safety. I want to hurt them. I want to do such terrible things, and late at night, whenever they finally left me alone, I would tell myself the stories. Sick ones. I imagined the fear in their eyes, the terror. I could taste their blood, feel it on my skin. I killed them slowly, savored every moment of their pain. I could hear myself laughing, Ath, and I loved it. I hate myself for it, but that doesn’t change the way I feel. I can’t let myself become that person.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide and desperate. “The Talent is the only reason I’m worth anything. And it’s the one thing I can’t let myself do.”

Ath let the words settle, let her see that he understood. And he did understand, better than anyone in the world. Better than anyone would ever want to. “Thank you.” She started, the same way she had when he’d showed her her room and let her lock the door. “Thank you for telling me, Silvie. This will take work, but it’s something we can do.”

“How do you know?”

Ath froze, then forced himself to smile. Stay warm. Don’t hurt her. And don’t hurt yourself either. “Have you ever actually hurt someone the way you imagine?” 

She shook her head.

"I did. I used to be exactly like you are now. But I didn't just tell the stories, I lived them, and a lot of people died because of it. I broke, but you haven’t. You’re tough. You’re good. And you are so much more than the Talent you carry. These stories don’t define you, and they won’t always be a part of you. When I told you that you were safe, I didn’t just mean from others. Here, you’re safe from yourself too.”

Silver thought for a long moment, and Ath let her. Sometimes time was the best thing you could give a person, and anything he said now might pull her outside herself. “Thank you,” she finally said.

“Of course. Now, do you want to show me what you can do, or should we eat first?”

She took a breath. “I’m still—scared.” She didn’t sound scared. She sounded furious.

“I know,” Ath said. “So let’s try something else. Can you close your eyes for me?” She only hesitated a moment before complying. Progress. “Good. Now I want you to imagine the loneliest place you’ve ever seen. Describe it for me.”

“A mountain.” There was no sign of hesitation or thought. Whether she’d expected the question or had only one possible answer Ath could only guess. “I saw it when they brought me to the city. There was snow on it, even in the middle of summer, and it was in the longest stretch between villages.”

“Cindermount,” Ath said, struggling to hold back a flood of memories. “I know it.” That’s quite an understatement…shut up. This is about her. “I want you to imagine you’re standing on top of it, all alone except for the wind.”

Silver started shaking. “I can’t—”

“There’s no one else. No one you can hurt and nothing you can destroy. I know they’re on the surface of your mind, but I don’t want you to think about the people who’ve hurt you. Just keep imagining the top of that mountain. A breeze through your hair, on your face.”

Ath’s handkerchief lifted itself from the floor, fluttering back over to him. He tucked it back into his pocket absentmindedly. “Now try to bring that feeling out of your mind. Wind in your hair, the gentlest touch against your cheeks.” 

Then, barely visible, several locks of her hair blew back. Silver opened her eyes and glared. “What did you do?”

“That wasn’t me—” Ath started, but she cut him off. 

“The wind was mine, but it should have been stronger.”

Ath cursed inwardly. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you. Whenever someone gets out for the first time, they use the wind the way they’ve always been told to. Too hard, too dangerous. I take control of most of the air, and you can’t use it while I’m holding it,so even if you push with all your strength, you can’t hurt anyone. I don’t know why I forgot to tell you.” 

Silver took his explanation easily. “Is that something I can do?”

Ath nodded, not sure whether to be relieved or worried about her sudden interest. “It takes some practice, but I don’t expect you to have trouble with it.”

Silver smiled. “Anyone with the Talent can do this?”

Ath nodded again. “Like I said, it doesn’t  come right away, but I’ve never met someone who couldn’t.” He didn’t mention that he’d never met someone who surpassed him at this particular ability, or most others. They could talk about that some other time. 

Silver snorted softly. Then flushed. “There was a boy,” she said by way of explanation. “He said he was better than the rest of us. But he wasn’t. He just had more training.”

“Right,” Ath said. “Some people are genuinely stronger, but usually it’s just a matter of practice. However,” he added, noticing a familiar look in her eyes, “you can’t risk burning yourself out. There’s a balance in all things. And I meant what I said about everyone being safe here. I can’t let them get hurt. So here, you can only use the Talent in a training room.”

The girl stilled. “It isn’t that I want to always be using the wind,” she said slowly. “I don’t. But if you’re saying I can’t…”

“It makes you want it more. I know.” Ath sighed softly. “I don’t like it either, trust me. But I don’t make the rules, and I agree that this is the better option. I’ll take being inconvenienced over counting the casualties every time someone has a nightmare.”

Silver was frowning. “But you’ve been using it this whole time. And I just did…”

“Well.” Ath winked, feeling his mouth twist into a smirk. “I’m sort of the exception.” Silver blinked, and he sighed. She’d get a sense of humor sooner or later. If he did nothing else, Rill would take care of that. “It’s complicated. But better to tell you now than for you to find out later. My point is, don’t train yourself to death. Learn about other parts of yourself. Make friends. Can you do that?”

Silver hesitated for a moment too long. But as she opened her mouth to answer, there was a stern knock on the door and she snapped it shut, tensing and looking just as guarded as when he’d first seen her. He stifled a groan. “Come in.” The door opened and a tall man with meticulously combed dark hair entered. Ath stood immediately. “Dad.”

“Oh,” Silver whispered. 

His father smiled at her, then glanced at Ath. “Dinner is about to start. Is she coming?”

Ath pursed his lips. Every time… “She’s right here,” he said, “and it’s up to her. Do you want to?”

“Will there be other people?” Silver looked even more nervous.

“Yes,” Ath said, “but good ones.”

“You’ll have to meet them soon anyway,” Father said. “I think now is as good a time as any.”

Silver thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.” She left. Father nodded to Ath, then shut the door, leaving him alone.

 

“Isn’t Ath coming?” It bothered Silver how much the idea of doing this alone bothered her. It had only been a handful of days, and she’d already come to rely on him. That was a weakness, and she wasn’t weak. 

“My son needs time to recharge,” the man said softly. “He rarely deigns to eat with the other youths.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to exhaust him.”

“You aren’t,” the man said quickly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if working with you was the best part of his day. He just had a lot on his plate.”

“Because of you?”

Ath’s father chuckled, but his eyes looked sad. He shared those eyes with his son. Wise and heartbroken. “I sincerely hope not. He seems to think he’s the only one who can get anything done around here; the problem is, he’s usually right.”

“Oh.” Silver didn’t have anything else to say, so she didn’t, and they walked through the hallways in silence. This part of the compound was beautiful, all carved wood and polished stone. Ath had said that it was originally a noble’s last resort house in case the capital was taken. They’d built from it since, leaving only several offices in the original structure. The rest of it, like the dining area they were just entering, was far more efficient.

“Wait,” Silver said. “How many are there?”

“Only four.” He smiled reassuringly. “There are three others, but they aren’t here right now. They’re going to love you, Silver.”

“Silvie,” she said, meeting his eyes. He nodded and gestured for her to open the door. “You aren’t coming either?”

“I can. But I think you’ll do better if you go in there on your own two feet, don’t you?”

Silver swallowed. “Yeah.”

 

Everyone knew she was coming today, so no one was surprised when the door opened. But Tella froze at the sight of her. The girl radiated power. It filled the room, charging the air and adding weight to her every step. 

“Hey,” Rill said. He didn't have the Talent and so was perfectly oblivious. “Welcome. I’m Rill.”

“Silver,” the girl said, scanning the group with cold, hostile eyes. 

“Tella,” Tella said, shaking off her awe. Dallyn and Wyrn introduced themselves, and then there was an awkward beat. “Do you want to sit down?” Tella said hesitantly.

Silver didn’t say anything, but she sat.

“So,” Rill said, “what do you want to eat?”

“Does it matter?”

Rill winked. “It does when Tel cooks.”

“Hey!” Tella glared, letting the others laugh. They laughed too loud and too long, but hopefully Silver was unfamiliar enough with people not to notice. “He’s joking,” Tella said pointedly. “I’m an excellent cook. It’s Dallyn you’ve got to watch out for.”

Lips pursed, Dallyn reached for a roll and handed it to Silver. “Try it,” he said. “Then you can tell our friend how wrong she is.”

Hesitantly, Silver took a bite. Her eyes widened. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

They let the conversation continue, flowing into easy topics and asking Silver the safest of questions—what she thought of her room, whether or not she wanted to fight. Slowly, Tella relaxed. No matter how powerful this girl was, she was just a girl. Scared and new, the same way they’d all been once.

 

“You didn’t tell us.” 

Ath took a breath. “Close the door, Wyrn.”

He did, stalking darkly up to Ath’s desk. “Why didn’t you tell us? Tell me?”

“What would it have changed?”

Wyrn shook his head, eyes wide. “Everything. Everything, Ath! I’ve never seen anyone with more Talent than her. We could finally have a chance to win this!”

Ath raised an eyebrow. “You have.”

“What?”

“You have seen someone with more Talent.”

Wyrn scoffed. “Fishing for compliments?”

“Of course not.” Ath tried a smile. “But one would be nice.” Wyrn crossed his arms. “Fine. But listen to me. She doesn’t need to be told she’s the second best. Not by me and definitely not by you. She needs friends, allies.”

“Ath, this could be our chance to change things. To help everyone else like us. Are you really going to throw that away for one girl?”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Ath growled. “She needs help, all right? If you insist on thinking of her as a tool, then think of her as a broken one. We have to help her before she can help us.”

“We were all broken too,” Wyrn said crossly. “What’s so different about her?”

“What’s so different?” Ath stood up, glaring. “Stop talking like all of us are just pieces in a game. We’re people, Wyrn. All this girl has ever been defined by is her power. Even her name. Do you know why they called her Silver? Because they had one person better than her. She was always second, always one less than someone else. She doesn’t need that here. She needs to heal, to grow. We’re going to change the world, but if you can’t remember why, it’ll be pointless.”

“I haven’t forgotten why,” Wyrn said, starting towards the door. “But you’ve forgotten how. Our greatest victories always come with sacrifices. Think of El.”

“Get out.” The air was suddenly charged, the wind ready to tear Wyrn to bits if Ath so much as thought of it. In the back of his mind, he realized that the whole compound would be able to feel it, to know he’d lost his cool. He couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“I’m just trying to—”

“Now.”

“Fine.”

Tee hee, wrote that last night.

Then this in AP lang today because my class is silly.

Silver (later):

Spoiler

“I don’t get it,” Silver said. “Why is this so frustrating?”

Tella laughed. “You’re actually doing really well.”

“Ha.” Silver tried again, closing her eyes and focusing on the pocket of air in front of her. She could make it do anything, could twist it however she wanted. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to just hold it. To take control without taking action. “This is stupid.” Ath can control a whole room for minutes on end without even thinking about it. “Silvie,” Tella said, raising an eyebrow, “Are you comparing yourself to Ath?”

“No.” She bit her lip. “Yes.”

“No one can do what Ath can do.”

Silver sighed. “A whole room? I should be able to…what?” Tella was looking at the ground. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“He’s different. That’s all.”

“So you’re saying I’ll never be able to control a full room?”

“No,” Tella hedged. She met Silver’s eyes, as if hoping she’d drop it. Silver raised an eyebrow, so the other girl sighed and led her to a bench. They both sat. “Ath really didn’t tell you anything about himself, did he?”

Silver shook her head.

“Right. Well, he’s…he never worked industrially, like the rest of us. Don't get me wrong, the factories are terrible, but his world is completely different. There was a group that wanted to weaponize anyone with the Talent. They got hold of him when he was just a kid–and I mean really just a kid, five or six–and started training him.”

“So it’s just a matter of practice? Then everyone who works hard enough should be able to–”

Tella was shaking her head. “Listen to me. I fully believe you’ll be able to control a full room for an hour, probably more. That is what practice gets you. But Ath has something different. His Talent is skewed. They used him to hold all the air over battlefields so that no one could attack from above, and he did that for more than ten years. Have you even tried to use the Talent outside of a training room or Ath’s office?”

She shook her head.

“Well, you can’t,” Tella said. “You can't use it here because Ath controls the entire base, all the time.”

Silver’s mouth fell open. “That’s impossible.”

“It is for anyone else. That’s why it’s so important that you don’t try to live up to that. Only one person has ever been able to, and she…it’s best not to talk about her.”

“Right,” Silver said, looking down. Second. Again.

“Look at me,” Tella said, almost a command. Silver did. “Get out of your head. Being the strongest isn’t the most important thing. Ath barely functions. He spends hours alone every day. He can’t fight, and if he loses control of his emotions for even a second, everyone here is in danger. The girl who could match him—don’t ever mention her here, especially not to him—she had her quirks too. El never spoke a word to anyone besides Ath. On missions, she did the worst jobs completely alone.”

“What happened to her?”

“There was an accident. They didn’t even try to take her alive.” Silver fell silent, and Tella sighed and stood up. “The point isn’t to tell you it’s hopeless. It’s just a reminder that power comes at a cost. People like El, like Ath, they’re invaluable. They don’t get to take breaks, to sit out. If given the chance to have that sort of power, I wouldn’t take it. There’s no joy in being the best.”

Silver nodded slowly. “I guess there’s wisdom in that.” 

Tella snorted. “But you don’t believe it.”

“No,” Silver said, a little surprised that it was true. “I don’t want joy. I want power. Is that…wrong?”

Tella shrugged. “I don’t have all the answers. But I know you deserve joy, and I’m not going to let you burn that bridge just yet, yeah?” Silver smiled, and Tella winked. “That being said, you’ve got a lot of potential, and we aren’t going to burn that bridge either. You ready to try again?”

Aaaaaaaaand yeah...I have rehearsal tonight and being productive just doesn't work, so I might write about El. Maybe.

[Throw TheLiving Silverware he/him/il/lui]

9 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

GUYS IM IN LOVE

WITH THIS CHARACTER

who I created

Shhhhh

Aaaaaaanyway, I hope you enjoy and please tell me what you think, I want to polish this scene (then make it grow, which it has already done a lot--it was originally 700 words).

Silver:

  Reveal hidden contents

“You know,” Ath said, “a lot of people enjoy this.”

“Enjoy it.”

“Sure.” He reached up lazily, the wind dancing through his fingers, down his arm, then nesting amiably in his hair. “It isn’t meant to scare you.”

“I’m not scared.”

Ath blinked, not surprised at the words but surprised that he believed her. “Good.” He nodded and pulled out a handkerchief for the wind to play with. “Good. Would you like to give it a try, then?”

“No.”

Ath grimaced. She was quiet, and he knew she didn’t mean any harm, but it always came off as infuriatingly petulant. Still, she had the most Talent he’d seen in a long time; however disturbing her quirks, it would be worth it in the end. “Why not?”

She cocked her head, studying him. He studied her right back, eyes darkening until she finally looked away. “Don’t want to.”

Ath pursed his lips. It’ll be worth it. “Silver.” Her jaw tightened. He didn’t like using that name, but she’d refused to accept a new one. Until she did, this pain was something she’d have to live with. “I’m not going to threaten you. I’m not going to bribe you. I understand that there are things we’ll need to work through. But if you don’t explain them to me, I can’t help you. You won’t learn. Our way of living is dangerous, and if you can’t defend yourself, they’ll take you back.”

A swallow. A nod.

Ath smiled warmly. “I want you to change the world, Silvie. You’re too good to get locked up again.”

She nodded again, and this time Ath stayed silent, letting her think. Letting her feel. He watched her jaw tighten, her chest inflate, then deflate. “I don’t want to,” she said again, quieter. Smaller. “I don’t want to let it in.” Ath raised an eyebrow. “The wind. It makes me a monster.”

Ath blinked again, feeling a sudden chill rush into his heart. How was it that she always seemed to surprise him? “What do you mean?”

“It—” Silver took a breath. Then another, her fists clenched tight. Ath’s handkerchief fell to the floor, as if the wind were watching. “I tell myself stories,” she finally said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “I always have. There’s no other way to survive. I try to…to stay good. But the wind makes me a monster.” She blinked rapidly. Ath knew she couldn’t cry any longer, but old habits die hard. “There’s no other way to say it. When I use it, I feel powerful.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Ath prompted. 

“Yes.” She said the word vehemently, more sure than he’d ever heard her. “Yes, it is, because then I stop wanting love, or comfort, or even safety. I want to hurt them. I want to do such terrible things, and late at night, whenever they finally left me alone, I would tell myself the stories. Sick ones. I imagined the fear in their eyes, the terror. I could taste their blood, feel it on my skin. I killed them slowly, savored every moment of their pain. I could hear myself laughing, Ath, and I loved it. I hate myself for it, but that doesn’t change the way I feel. I can’t let myself become that person.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide and desperate. “The Talent is the only reason I’m worth anything. And it’s the one thing I can’t let myself do.”

Ath let the words settle, let her see that he understood. And he did understand, better than anyone in the world. Better than anyone would ever want to. “Thank you.” She started, the same way she had when he’d showed her her room and let her lock the door. “Thank you for telling me, Silvie. This will take work, but it’s something we can do.”

“How do you know?”

Ath froze, then forced himself to smile. Stay warm. Don’t hurt her. And don’t hurt yourself either. “Have you ever actually hurt someone the way you imagine?” 

She shook her head.

"I did. I used to be exactly like you are now. But I didn't just tell the stories, I lived them, and a lot of people died because of it. I broke, but you haven’t. You’re tough. You’re good. And you are so much more than the Talent you carry. These stories don’t define you, and they won’t always be a part of you. When I told you that you were safe, I didn’t just mean from others. Here, you’re safe from yourself too.”

Silver thought for a long moment, and Ath let her. Sometimes time was the best thing you could give a person, and anything he said now might pull her outside herself. “Thank you,” she finally said.

“Of course. Now, do you want to show me what you can do, or should we eat first?”

She took a breath. “I’m still—scared.” She didn’t sound scared. She sounded furious.

“I know,” Ath said. “So let’s try something else. Can you close your eyes for me?” She only hesitated a moment before complying. Progress. “Good. Now I want you to imagine the loneliest place you’ve ever seen. Describe it for me.”

“A mountain.” There was no sign of hesitation or thought. Whether she’d expected the question or had only one possible answer Ath could only guess. “I saw it when they brought me to the city. There was snow on it, even in the middle of summer, and it was in the longest stretch between villages.”

“Cindermount,” Ath said, struggling to hold back a flood of memories. “I know it.” That’s quite an understatement…shut up. This is about her. “I want you to imagine you’re standing on top of it, all alone except for the wind.”

Silver started shaking. “I can’t—”

“There’s no one else. No one you can hurt and nothing you can destroy. I know they’re on the surface of your mind, but I don’t want you to think about the people who’ve hurt you. Just keep imagining the top of that mountain. A breeze through your hair, on your face.”

Ath’s handkerchief lifted itself from the floor, fluttering back over to him. He tucked it back into his pocket absentmindedly. “Now try to bring that feeling out of your mind. Wind in your hair, the gentlest touch against your cheeks.” 

Then, barely visible, several locks of her hair blew back. Silver opened her eyes and glared. “What did you do?”

“That wasn’t me—” Ath started, but she cut him off. 

“The wind was mine, but it should have been stronger.”

Ath cursed inwardly. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you. Whenever someone gets out for the first time, they use the wind the way they’ve always been told to. Too hard, too dangerous. I take control of most of the air, and you can’t use it while I’m holding it,so even if you push with all your strength, you can’t hurt anyone. I don’t know why I forgot to tell you.” 

Silver took his explanation easily. “Is that something I can do?”

Ath nodded, not sure whether to be relieved or worried about her sudden interest. “It takes some practice, but I don’t expect you to have trouble with it.”

Silver smiled. “Anyone with the Talent can do this?”

Ath nodded again. “Like I said, it doesn’t  come right away, but I’ve never met someone who couldn’t.” He didn’t mention that he’d never met someone who surpassed him at this particular ability, or most others. They could talk about that some other time. 

Silver snorted softly. Then flushed. “There was a boy,” she said by way of explanation. “He said he was better than the rest of us. But he wasn’t. He just had more training.”

“Right,” Ath said. “Some people are genuinely stronger, but usually it’s just a matter of practice. However,” he added, noticing a familiar look in her eyes, “you can’t risk burning yourself out. There’s a balance in all things. And I meant what I said about everyone being safe here. I can’t let them get hurt. So here, you can only use the Talent in a training room.”

The girl stilled. “It isn’t that I want to always be using the wind,” she said slowly. “I don’t. But if you’re saying I can’t…”

“It makes you want it more. I know.” Ath sighed softly. “I don’t like it either, trust me. But I don’t make the rules, and I agree that this is the better option. I’ll take being inconvenienced over counting the casualties every time someone has a nightmare.”

Silver was frowning. “But you’ve been using it this whole time. And I just did…”

“Well.” Ath winked, feeling his mouth twist into a smirk. “I’m sort of the exception.” Silver blinked, and he sighed. She’d get a sense of humor sooner or later. If he did nothing else, Rill would take care of that. “It’s complicated. But better to tell you now than for you to find out later. My point is, don’t train yourself to death. Learn about other parts of yourself. Make friends. Can you do that?”

Silver hesitated for a moment too long. But as she opened her mouth to answer, there was a stern knock on the door and she snapped it shut, tensing and looking just as guarded as when he’d first seen her. He stifled a groan. “Come in.” The door opened and a tall man with meticulously combed dark hair entered. Ath stood immediately. “Dad.”

“Oh,” Silver whispered. 

His father smiled at her, then glanced at Ath. “Dinner is about to start. Is she coming?”

Ath pursed his lips. Every time… “She’s right here,” he said, “and it’s up to her. Do you want to?”

“Will there be other people?” Silver looked even more nervous.

“Yes,” Ath said, “but good ones.”

“You’ll have to meet them soon anyway,” Father said. “I think now is as good a time as any.”

Silver thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.” She left. Father nodded to Ath, then shut the door, leaving him alone.

 

“Isn’t Ath coming?” It bothered Silver how much the idea of doing this alone bothered her. It had only been a handful of days, and she’d already come to rely on him. That was a weakness, and she wasn’t weak. 

“My son needs time to recharge,” the man said softly. “He rarely deigns to eat with the other youths.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to exhaust him.”

“You aren’t,” the man said quickly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if working with you was the best part of his day. He just had a lot on his plate.”

“Because of you?”

Ath’s father chuckled, but his eyes looked sad. He shared those eyes with his son. Wise and heartbroken. “I sincerely hope not. He seems to think he’s the only one who can get anything done around here; the problem is, he’s usually right.”

“Oh.” Silver didn’t have anything else to say, so she didn’t, and they walked through the hallways in silence. This part of the compound was beautiful, all carved wood and polished stone. Ath had said that it was originally a noble’s last resort house in case the capital was taken. They’d built from it since, leaving only several offices in the original structure. The rest of it, like the dining area they were just entering, was far more efficient.

“Wait,” Silver said. “How many are there?”

“Only four.” He smiled reassuringly. “There are three others, but they aren’t here right now. They’re going to love you, Silver.”

“Silvie,” she said, meeting his eyes. He nodded and gestured for her to open the door. “You aren’t coming either?”

“I can. But I think you’ll do better if you go in there on your own two feet, don’t you?”

Silver swallowed. “Yeah.”

 

Everyone knew she was coming today, so no one was surprised when the door opened. But Tella froze at the sight of her. The girl radiated power. It filled the room, charging the air and adding weight to her every step. 

“Hey,” Rill said. He didn't have the Talent and so was perfectly oblivious. “Welcome. I’m Rill.”

“Silver,” the girl said, scanning the group with cold, hostile eyes. 

“Tella,” Tella said, shaking off her awe. Dallyn and Wyrn introduced themselves, and then there was an awkward beat. “Do you want to sit down?” Tella said hesitantly.

Silver didn’t say anything, but she sat.

“So,” Rill said, “what do you want to eat?”

“Does it matter?”

Rill winked. “It does when Tel cooks.”

“Hey!” Tella glared, letting the others laugh. They laughed too loud and too long, but hopefully Silver was unfamiliar enough with people not to notice. “He’s joking,” Tella said pointedly. “I’m an excellent cook. It’s Dallyn you’ve got to watch out for.”

Lips pursed, Dallyn reached for a roll and handed it to Silver. “Try it,” he said. “Then you can tell our friend how wrong she is.”

Hesitantly, Silver took a bite. Her eyes widened. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

They let the conversation continue, flowing into easy topics and asking Silver the safest of questions—what she thought of her room, whether or not she wanted to fight. Slowly, Tella relaxed. No matter how powerful this girl was, she was just a girl. Scared and new, the same way they’d all been once.

 

“You didn’t tell us.” 

Ath took a breath. “Close the door, Wyrn.”

He did, stalking darkly up to Ath’s desk. “Why didn’t you tell us? Tell me?”

“What would it have changed?”

Wyrn shook his head, eyes wide. “Everything. Everything, Ath! I’ve never seen anyone with more Talent than her. We could finally have a chance to win this!”

Ath raised an eyebrow. “You have.”

“What?”

“You have seen someone with more Talent.”

Wyrn scoffed. “Fishing for compliments?”

“Of course not.” Ath tried a smile. “But one would be nice.” Wyrn crossed his arms. “Fine. But listen to me. She doesn’t need to be told she’s the second best. Not by me and definitely not by you. She needs friends, allies.”

“Ath, this could be our chance to change things. To help everyone else like us. Are you really going to throw that away for one girl?”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Ath growled. “She needs help, all right? If you insist on thinking of her as a tool, then think of her as a broken one. We have to help her before she can help us.”

“We were all broken too,” Wyrn said crossly. “What’s so different about her?”

“What’s so different?” Ath stood up, glaring. “Stop talking like all of us are just pieces in a game. We’re people, Wyrn. All this girl has ever been defined by is her power. Even her name. Do you know why they called her Silver? Because they had one person better than her. She was always second, always one less than someone else. She doesn’t need that here. She needs to heal, to grow. We’re going to change the world, but if you can’t remember why, it’ll be pointless.”

“I haven’t forgotten why,” Wyrn said, starting towards the door. “But you’ve forgotten how. Our greatest victories always come with sacrifices. Think of El.”

“Get out.” The air was suddenly charged, the wind ready to tear Wyrn to bits if Ath so much as thought of it. In the back of his mind, he realized that the whole compound would be able to feel it, to know he’d lost his cool. He couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“I’m just trying to—”

“Now.”

“Fine.”

Tee hee, wrote that last night.

Then this in AP lang today because my class is silly.

Silver (later):

  Reveal hidden contents

“I don’t get it,” Silver said. “Why is this so frustrating?”

Tella laughed. “You’re actually doing really well.”

“Ha.” Silver tried again, closing her eyes and focusing on the pocket of air in front of her. She could make it do anything, could twist it however she wanted. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to just hold it. To take control without taking action. “This is stupid.” Ath can control a whole room for minutes on end without even thinking about it. “Silvie,” Tella said, raising an eyebrow, “Are you comparing yourself to Ath?”

“No.” She bit her lip. “Yes.”

“No one can do what Ath can do.”

Silver sighed. “A whole room? I should be able to…what?” Tella was looking at the ground. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“He’s different. That’s all.”

“So you’re saying I’ll never be able to control a full room?”

“No,” Tella hedged. She met Silver’s eyes, as if hoping she’d drop it. Silver raised an eyebrow, so the other girl sighed and led her to a bench. They both sat. “Ath really didn’t tell you anything about himself, did he?”

Silver shook her head.

“Right. Well, he’s…he never worked industrially, like the rest of us. Don't get me wrong, the factories are terrible, but his world is completely different. There was a group that wanted to weaponize anyone with the Talent. They got hold of him when he was just a kid–and I mean really just a kid, five or six–and started training him.”

“So it’s just a matter of practice? Then everyone who works hard enough should be able to–”

Tella was shaking her head. “Listen to me. I fully believe you’ll be able to control a full room for an hour, probably more. That is what practice gets you. But Ath has something different. His Talent is skewed. They used him to hold all the air over battlefields so that no one could attack from above, and he did that for more than ten years. Have you even tried to use the Talent outside of a training room or Ath’s office?”

She shook her head.

“Well, you can’t,” Tella said. “You can't use it here because Ath controls the entire base, all the time.”

Silver’s mouth fell open. “That’s impossible.”

“It is for anyone else. That’s why it’s so important that you don’t try to live up to that. Only one person has ever been able to, and she…it’s best not to talk about her.”

“Right,” Silver said, looking down. Second. Again.

“Look at me,” Tella said, almost a command. Silver did. “Get out of your head. Being the strongest isn’t the most important thing. Ath barely functions. He spends hours alone every day. He can’t fight, and if he loses control of his emotions for even a second, everyone here is in danger. The girl who could match him—don’t ever mention her here, especially not to him—she had her quirks too. El never spoke a word to anyone besides Ath. On missions, she did the worst jobs completely alone.”

“What happened to her?”

“There was an accident. They didn’t even try to take her alive.” Silver fell silent, and Tella sighed and stood up. “The point isn’t to tell you it’s hopeless. It’s just a reminder that power comes at a cost. People like El, like Ath, they’re invaluable. They don’t get to take breaks, to sit out. If given the chance to have that sort of power, I wouldn’t take it. There’s no joy in being the best.”

Silver nodded slowly. “I guess there’s wisdom in that.” 

Tella snorted. “But you don’t believe it.”

“No,” Silver said, a little surprised that it was true. “I don’t want joy. I want power. Is that…wrong?”

Tella shrugged. “I don’t have all the answers. But I know you deserve joy, and I’m not going to let you burn that bridge just yet, yeah?” Silver smiled, and Tella winked. “That being said, you’ve got a lot of potential, and we aren’t going to burn that bridge either. You ready to try again?”

Aaaaaaaaand yeah...I have rehearsal tonight and being productive just doesn't work, so I might write about El. Maybe.

AAAAAAAAHHHHHH THATS SO COOL

GIVE ME MOOOOOORE

Even though it's confusing because I'm used to Silver being me

But I love that and I'm really really excited to see more of it

[Edema Rue she/her]

5 hours ago, Just A Silvereye said:

AAAAAAAAHHHHHH THATS SO COOL

GIVE ME MOOOOOORE

Even though it's confusing because I'm used to Silver being me

But I love that and I'm really really excited to see more of it

Tee hee thank you

I’m a little obsessed with competent characters

[Through the Living Hope]

22 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

Tee hee thank you

I’m a little obsessed with competent characters

These new things are all great too!

[Wittles he/him]

On 1/12/2025 at 1:43 PM, Edema Rue said:

Guys, I've written so much

So much

I'll put a few things here whenever I pop on

1:

  Reveal hidden contents

Florin looked up at the sound of clinking chains. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You asked for a colleague, sir.”

He gritted his teeth, barely resisting the urge to throw something at the man."Not him.”

“Sir?”

“Wipe that look off your free," Florin said. "Not everyone wants a traitor at their side.”

The soldier shifted uneasily, looking to his companions for support. None of them would even meet his eyes. "With all due respect, sir, Less is the best. Everyone knows it. He doesn’t fight just any war, and the fact that he’s fighting for us…it means we have a chance.”

No matter how angry he was, Florin was not stupid, and he saw how the rest of the soldiers were nodding along. They nearly worshiped this traitor, so much that they would defend him to their own general. “Fine,” he said softly. "But make sure he’s restrained, and don't even think of touching that gag.”

For three weeks, that was the end of it. Less remained chained in his corner of the command center, silent and tense. Florin could feel him watching and judging his every decision. Still, he refused to give in. He won some battles and lost more. Then more. After one defeat so devastating it could only be called a massacre, he stormed in. He reached for a glass and found that his hand was shaking.

“Are you ready for my help yet?”

Flin whirled. “Who took off the gag?"

Less smiled, dimples showing, eyes dangerously wise. "You can't expect me to answer that." Florin grunted and started searching for a piece of fabric to shove in the man's mouth. “Listen, Flor. It isn't too late. Let me help you." 

“Don't call me that."

Less blinked, but took it in stride. “Would you prefer General? Or maybe the truest title. Brother.”

“I would prefer if you weren’t here.”

“You can be angry all you want,” Less said evenly, “but every time you ignore me more of your people die. You can stop this." Florin said nothing, turning his back on the prisoner. The traitor. That was the only way to think of him. "Please.” Florin started at the sound of that cracked, rasping voice. There was no more of the playful arrogance, no more laughter or lightness. This voice was raw and broken.

"If you want to hear me beg, I'll beg. If you want to throw me back in prison to rot when this is over, go right ahead. But don’t you dare throw away lives because you're too proud to accept my help."

"You betrayed me once,” Florin said slowly, "and I know that you won't hesitate to do it again."

"I serve the people-"

"How many of our people are dead because of you?” Something crumbled in Florin’s grasp. He didn't bother to look at it.

"Not your people, my brother. The people. Not this country or any other. I do it for the soldiers who are dying on the front lines every second that we sit here arguing. I do it for the boys who don't remember why they're fighting or when they last ate. For the people we used to be.” There was a beat, and then the sound of raindrops falling gently onto the roof.

“Do you remember, Flor? Sleepless nights and mud in our boots. Days and then weeks where the only thing we tasted was blood. Splinters of bone that seemed as bright as stars and letters from Mom by firelight. It was a long time ago, and it all seems so distant now. But there are people living those lives right now. In your army, in his, it doesn't matter to me. I don't fight wars anymore; I end them.”

Florin turned. Less was staring pointedly at the ground, muscles tensed and angry. “War is so ugly. If I had a better word to describe it…but I don't think words are enough. Everyone comes out broken, if they come out at all. So much blood has already been shed. So many people are gone. Please, Flor, let me end it.”

Less finally looked up. Не looked wild, young, anguished. Broken. A memory to the surface of Florin’s mind, unwanted but needed. His mother, old and alone.

"War has ruined my sons," she’d wailed. "My Florin will fight until he dies, and my Less will fight forever.”

"I hate you." Florin said quietly. "I hate you for what you did. I hate you for staying young when I had to grow up." He met his brother’s dark eyes, wondering at the things they'd seen. “Mostly, though, I hate you for being brave enough to choose another path.”

He exhaled, letting the loathing that had grown within him for years simmer, then pushing it into the furthest corner of his mind. There would be time for it later. “Where do we start?"

2:

  Reveal hidden contents

“She’ll work herself to death—”

“Let her.”

“Let her? Captain, whatever grudge you have, now is not the time.”

“I don’t have a grudge.”

“But you’re perfectly willing to let her kill herself.”

“If she dies, she dies. Nothing I can do about it.”

“Of course there is. You can pull her out of this, make her stop.”

“What, so she can drink her worries away?”

“Is that really what she’d do?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. If it matters so much to you, you make her stop.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Training it is, then.”

“Captain, she needs help.”

“Yes. She does. Help that we can’t give her. If we try, we might make it worse. She’s in such a fragile state that anything we do could send her over the edge. So let her train. If she was drinking, I could fix it. If she was moping about all day—like someone I know—I could fix it. She isn’t depressed, she’s angry and she’s terrified. So I’ll let her train. If she dies, she dies, but if she doesn’t she’ll become an asset that no one can refuse. She’ll be worth enough that someone who knows how to help her will.”

“Captain…”

“Stop that.”

“You’re scared for her, aren’t you? You don’t want her to die.”

“I said stop it.”

“You love her.”

“Get out.”

“What you’re doing is brave. It’s stupid and it might get her killed, but it’s brave.”

“Be quiet.”

“Stop telling me to—”

“Do you hear that?”

“Is that…knocking?”

“Excellent. Answer the door and don’t come back. I’ve had more than enough of you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and Angel?”

“Sir.”

“Don’t breathe a word of this. I won’t have you meddling again.”

3: Anyone remember Corin? I decided he was too cool for just one RP, so now he has his own story (and hopefully I'll write more).

  Reveal hidden contents

“All right, all of you out.” Corin said the words with a half smile, sweeping at the youngest boys with a broom. Everyone laughed, but no one moved. This was almost a ritual now, a habit that had become tradition. “I mean it!” Corin scowled fiercely. “I’ve got paying customers who’ll be here any minute.” He stuck out his tongue as they left. There was no malice between them. Not here. 

“Cor.” He turned, meeting Alix’s eyes with a smile. 

His friend looked distinctly uncomfortable, enough to make Corin frown. “What’s up?”

“I got a message from Dane this morning. He wants to talk.”

Corin’s gaze immediately hardened. “To both of us? We’d have to be stupid to agree to that.”

Alix shrugged darkly. “He says it’s important.”

“Sure it is,” Corin said, clenching his fists. “It’s obviously a trap.”

“I know,” Alix said quietly. “But Cor…I haven’t seen Quinn in a few days, and we both know that Dane isn’t above hostages.”

“Bones,” Corin breathed. “We can’t leave him. He’s just a kid.” They were all just kids, but Quinn…he was young in a way the rest of them weren’t. Body and mind.

Alix nodded. “If he hurts Quinn, I’ll ruin him.”

Corin nodded once, firmly. They didn’t leave their own to die. But… “He could throw us in prison,” Corin realized. “Have us executed. He wouldn’t even need a trial. People like him don’t need permission to kill people like us. If we’re gone, what happens to everyone else?”

“We can’t leave him!”

“I’m not saying we should,” Corin said, raising his hands. “Dust and bones, this is a mess. When does he want to meet?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?!” Alix flinched, his hand going to his belt, and Corin took a long breath. He really was worried if he’d forgotten not to raise his voice around Alix. Every street kid had their triggers. “Where?” Alix bit his lip. “Where, Al?”

“Here.” Alix met his eyes. They were the same age, but all of a sudden Corin’s old friend looked so young. Like…like the teenager that he was, and not the leader of every common thief in the city. “He said he’d come here.”

Corin closed his eyes, gritting his teeth and trying not to scream. It had been too much to hope that Dane didn’t know about the bar. Too much to hope that he might be safe, that this haven he’d created was real. Still…did Dane have any idea what he was walking into? He’d insist that no one else be present, but…this place was Corin’s. He knew dozens of ways out, and Dane never had been able to beat him in a fight. If they were going to meet anywhere, better that it be on his own home turf. “Guess we’d better be ready, then.”

 

Alix had no idea how Corin stayed so calm. When he saw the note, he’d nearly gone and killed Dane right then. And now there he was, right in front of them, and Corin barely blinked. But his friend had always been like that. Poised, ready. Whatever emotion he showed was painted on, a perfect mask. 

“Old friends,” Dane said, smiling cruelly.

“Shut up,” Alix snapped. “Where’s Quinn?”

“The boy is safe.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Alix snarled. 

Dane sighed softly. “Would you like me to fetch him?”

“Yes–” Alix started.

“Wait,” Corin interrupted. He spoke, as always, with a tired rasp that made him sound older than he was. Alix glanced at him. His eyes were on Dane. “Where is he? I’ll get him. You stay here.”

The ghost of a smile flickered across Dane’s face. Alix hated him for that. Traitors had no right to smile. “Clever as always, aren’t you? He’s across the street. Second floor, third door on the left.”

“Guards?”

Dane laughed. Alix hated that laugh more than he hated the smile. “You think he needs them?” Corin’s gaze darkened almost imperceptibly. Alix doubted that anyone outside the three of them would even notice. But Dane did, and it worried him. “No guards. No tricks. I really do want to talk, and if it’ll make you happy to get him back first, go ahead.”

Corin frowned. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. Weirdly enough, it seemed as if he was talking to both of them…oh. A moment later, he’d slipped out the front door. As soon as he was gone, Dane slipped into a chair at the bar, suddenly looking very tired. 

“Do you remember,” he said quietly, “when Cor first said he wanted to quit? We thought he was crazy. We were young, rich, talented. The world was ours for the taking, and he wanted to let it all go.” Dane glanced at Alix, who hadn’t moved. “Sit down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Alix said. “You don’t get to waltz in here and pretend like you care after all this time—”

“What I did was for the best.”

Alix stilled, feeling his anger shift to something darker. Colder. “How many,” he whispered, “of our friends are still in prison because of what you did?”

“Twelve.” Alix didn’t have a chance to be surprised before Dane continued. “Six died in the mines. Three got out, and one more died trying. Twelve of them are still there.”

“But it was for the best.” Alix shook his head, disgusted. “Is that what you say every time someone dies in your factory? That it’s for the best? Those people are just like us!”

Dane stared at the counter, tapping an irregular rhythm. He didn’t look hurt, but he also wasn’t smiling anymore. “It’s been cold recently. Your crew doing all right?”

Alix scowled at the floor. It’s been cold recently…Dane hadn’t slept on the street in a long, long time. But he held his tongue, not saying another word until Corin got back. Alone.

“Where is he?”

Corin held up his hands pacifyingly. “I sent him to the Nest. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to bring him back here.”

Alix sniffed. “You sent him alone?”

Corin fixed him with a hard stare. “He’s been through worse, Al. He’ll be fine.” Alix nodded, chagrined. He wasn’t mad at Corin, he reminded himself. “So,” Corin said, stalking to his place behind the counter and gesturing for Alix to sit. He did. “What can I do for you?”

That same half-dead smile twisted Dane’s face. “Are you offering drinks?”

“I can’t afford to turn a paying customer away; you’re welcome to whatever you’ve got the coin for. Won’t be much to you.” Dane winced and Alix chuckled. Corin was good. 

“Look,” Dane said. “I know you don’t like me.” He paused, waiting for a retort, but Alix had nothing left to say, and Corin was too good of a host to snap. After a pause, he continued.“I have no right to ask for your help. But the fact is, I need it, and I’m willing to pay.”

Alix and Corin shared a glance. Alix spoke first. “A job, is that it? Something none of your rich friends will do?”

“Something none of them can do,” Dane said carefully. “I don’t know anyone with quicker fingers than you, Alix. And no one can fight like Corin.”

“And neither of us,” Corin said dryly, “can flatter quite like you. If Al wants in, he’s welcome to this job of yours. But I don’t forgive traitors, and there’s more at stake than just us.” Alix stood and walked to Corin’s side of the counter, making it clear where his loyalties were. 

Dane’s eyes hardened. “More at stake…yes. There is. Do you really understand what that means?” Alix blinked. Corin suddenly looked nervous. “I’m among the most powerful men in this city,” Dane said. “I own dozens of factories and mills. I can buy, bribe, and blackmail anyone I want, including the governor. You and the rest of the street rats might hate me—but that’s all you are. Rats. If I want the city cleaned out, you and all your friends are gone. If I decide I don’t like this little tavern, there’s nothing you can do. Don’t press me.”

Corin leaned forward. “Is that a threat?”

Dane met his eyes. “Yes. You’re going to help me, or I will end life as you know it. All the little ones who rely on you…I could always use more hands in my factories.”

“You’re sick,” Alix spat.

Dane shook his head. “I do what needs to be done. I use what’s mine, the same as we always have.”

“You’re nothing like we were.” 

Dane shrugged, looking almost regretful. “Maybe not. But I’m powerful, and that’s better.” He stood up, nodding to Corin. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Remember what—and who—is at stake. I trust you’ll make the smart choice.”

I'll put more on at some point, I've been writing a lot on paper and I don't feel like making anything digital right now.

I want to see more of Less, he seems very cool

[Edema Rue she/her]

9 hours ago, Wittles said:

I want to see more of Less, he seems very cool

ISNT HE A DEAR

i wrote a couple more scenes with him but I’m not in love, I’m hoping to someday have time to rewrite one and then I’ll put it here.

[Edema Rue she/her]

On 1/16/2025 at 2:39 AM, Just A Silvereye said:

AAAAAAAAHHHHHH THATS SO COOL

GIVE ME MOOOOOORE

Even though it's confusing because I'm used to Silver being me

But I love that and I'm really really excited to see more of it

Ok here’s another scene, not super long but I’m going to write another today and tomorrow. 

teehee aren’t my titles creative

Silver (much later):

Spoiler

“What was she like?” Dead silence. Even the fire seemed quieter, the crickets less somehow muffled. “I wouldn’t ask, but I can’t help but feel that you’re more scared of Ath than sad about her.”

Wyrn chuckled softly, and the unnatural silence softened, blunted into something almost bearable. “I don’t have a problem talking about it. Not here, anyway. At home…” he sighed softly. “It’s not that we’re scared of Ath.”

Rill coughed. “Not completely, anyway.” Wyrn glared at him, but he just shrugged. “You can’t say it isn’t true.”

“Whatever.” Wyrn turned back to Silver. “Mostly, though, we care about him. He doesn’t let us in the way he should, but everyone knows that her death tore him apart. He’s only gotten angry once since you’ve been here—my fault. Do you remember?”

Silver nodded. “It felt like a single breath could knock the whole place down.”

Wyrn nodded. “Imagine that, but exponentially worse and lasting for weeks. Doors would open and shut on their own, papers would reorganize themselves, breezes would start and stop without any cause. Some days, it was perfectly still, but there was a weight to the air. Everyone was on edge. No one could find Ath for three days after he found out what had happened. Once we did, he barricaded himself in his room. Two days after the air went back to normal, he came out smiling and kind, the same way he always is. He refuses to talk about it; I’ve never seen his emotions flare except when people bring her up.”

“I get that,” Silver said softly, “and I’m sorry for him. But, all things considered, I don’t want to hear about Ath right now.”

Tella snorted. “It’ll be hard to talk about El, then. They were almost inseparable.”

“Fine,” Silver said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Tell me about our star-crossed lovers, then.”

“They weren’t in love,” Rill interjected. “They were just…alone. Together. Neither of them had anyone else. El was never shy, but she physically couldn’t talk to the rest of us. I saw her try a few times. You could see in her eyes that she had something to say, but she wouldn’t be able to say it. Sometimes she got as far as to open her mouth, but…nothing. Ath was familiar, the only part of her world that she’d always known. It was the same for him—there were things he could only say to her.”

“But that’s not important,” Tella interrupted. Silver felt a surge of gratitude. “Tell her about the dueling.” Rill nodded, looking at Wyrn.

He sighed. “Why me?”

“I can’t,” Rill said, leaning back, “and Tel is boring.”

“He’s right,” Tella said ruefully.

“Fine.” Wyrn poked absently at the fire, letting his stick catch and then holding it aloft, summoning a gust of wind to put it out, then repeating the process. “You know how duels go. They’re quick, usually five to ten minutes at most. Ath and El used to duel for hours on end. Eventually, you stop being jealous and just have to admit that they’re different.”

“Who was better?”

Wyrn sighed and shook his head. “Ath. But just barely, and whenever he won, the duel took longer. He could always wait her out as long as he had control of enough air, but when he didn’t…El fought like something from another world. I don’t think it was even possible to escape her. From the start it was always obvious who would win, but neither of them gave up. They stretched their endurance, every ability they had. It was beautiful. Inspiring. It made you want to work twice as hard even if you never saw half the results.”

“They’re the ones who taught us to duel,” Tella added. “Most things they couldn’t talk about. They didn’t really talk about dueling either, but it wasn’t something they had to teach. It was just something they did.”

Silver nodded slowly. “Is this hopeless?” Three sets of eyes met hers. “Just…all of this. Fighting, going on these little raids. We aren’t actually changing anything.”

Rill put a hand on her arm. She started, but didn’t pull away. He wasn’t going to hurt her. “It’s easy to slip into that mindset. Almost impossible not to. But that’s dangerous. That’s the way everyone else thinks. Maybe we won’t fix everything in our lifetimes. Maybe this war will take generations, and no one will even remember that we started it. But maybe it will. If we stop trying, we’ll never know. Besides,” he added, smiling warmly, “if we’d given up, the rest of you would still be prisoners, including Ath and El. Even if we can’t change the world, we can save a few lives. That’s more than enough for me.”

 

[Edema Rue she/her]

one more

Silver (after more time had passed):

Spoiler

“Second,” Silver whispered, clenching her hand into a fist and hitting her thigh. “Second, second, second. Doesn’t it ever change?”

“Stop it,” Ath said. “Silvie, I need you to stop it. Someone’s going to get hurt.”

“Right,” Silver whispered. “Right, because that’s all that matters. No one gets hurt. Keep everyone else safe.”

“Silver,” Ath snapped. “Breathe.” She took a long, shaking breath. “You aren’t thinking logically. Get out of your head.”

“I can’t,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “This always happens. Every time I’m doing better, every time I think I’m free of it all—”

“Okay,” Ath said. “Okay. Just breathe. One breath. Can you do that? Then one more. One more.” Silver complied. “You aren’t going to be able to think clearly tonight, but I have a feeling you won’t sleep either. So we’re going to stay here, and if being quiet will help, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Don’t,” Silver said, hating herself and having him. “Just talk, because otherwise…” her eyes slid shut, and images of twisted bodies filled her mind. Blood on her skirt, torn skin, and her own elation. I’ll be strong tomorrow. “Just talk.”

“Sure,” Ath said, completely businesslike and completely focused on her. “Actually, there’s something I want to tell you. Did you know that El had a sister?”

Silver started at the sound of El’s name in his mouth. “No.”

“She did. Reena was four years older than us. She loved El so fiercely, and her mind was always on protecting her sister. She made sure that El always slept inside, always had enough to eat. Always got the safest jobs, even if that meant risking her own life. Once, she dueled three Talented at once to earn her sister a bowl of soup. El wanted to be just like her.”

Silver watched him with an open mouth. Everyone knew Ath didn’t talk about his life before his father had found him. Everyone knew he didn’t talk about El. What was happening?

“But the thing is, Reena wasn’t special. I know everyone here talks about me and El. They say that the two of us are one in a million. They’re wrong. Reena was one in a million. You’re one in a million. We should never have been born.” Ath sighed softly, looking away. “But that’s another story. The point is, Reena wasn’t like us. She had focus and control like no one I’ve known, but her Talent was weak. After less than a year, El and I were protecting her. And do you know what, Silvie? It tore her apart.

“Reena lived to protect. It was her nature, her soul, the fire that got her up in the mornings. It was her reason to keep fighting. And all at once, she was useless. Less than useless. She was second to her kid sister.” Silver looked away, feeling as if something sharp had been plunged into her chest. “They kept us divided,” Ath said. “Forced us into groups and competitions. El and Reena were fighters. I was a guardian.

“Everyone knew the fighters were the bravest. They were the flashiest, the toughest. They respected Reena, but they feared El. Reena couldn’t stop it, couldn’t do anything but watch as her sister got stronger and stronger. The cruelest irony was, El only fought so hard because she was trying to live up to her sister. Then she was her sister, only better and younger, and Reena became obsolete.

“They started using El more and more often, taking her away on missions. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad, but El reveled in it. She loved the attention, loved being the best. It’s what every kid wants, right? To find that they really are special. That the whole world exists to serve them.” Ath met her eyes. “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Silver gritted her teeth. “What happened to Reena?”

“She died,” Ath said. “Our lives were never easy. There were countless beatings. The masters treated us like animals. They had favorites and least favorites, and Reena had fought long enough that they detested her. I wish we’d known enough to help her, but we were barely ten years old at the time, and so caught up in ourselves that we didn’t understand how desperately alone she was. It’s a dangerous thing, to be alone and inferior. One day she just snapped. Walked out of the camp and kept walking. She wasn’t trying to escape. Just to get a single moment of attention. And I guess it worked; they turned her into an example, made sure all of us kids knew what would happen if we got too arrogant.”

Silver fell silent. She wanted to just sit, but of course her mind had other thoughts. The only way people will care about you is after you’re dead. But this time, the voice didn’t make her angry. Now, she felt a kind of cool determination, a hopeful resignation. “Ath?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we broken?”

Ath let out a huff of breath that could have been a chuckle or a sob. “That’s a big question.”

Silver shrugged uncomfortably. “That’s what the others say. They say that we’re broken and always will be. Like a big pile of shattered glass, sharp enough to cut but completely worthless.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I’m asking you,” Silver snapped. “I don’t know what I believe.”

“Then no,” Ath said firmly. How did he do that? One second, he was nothing but kind. The next he was a leader, perfectly in control and demanding obedience. “We don’t have to be broken. We heal, and then we’re just weak in ways no one else can understand.”

“You aren’t,” Silver muttered. “El wasn’t.”

“We were,” Ath said. “I am. Some weaknesses we won’t ever outgrow. But we can accept chinks in our armor, learn to protect our most vital parts. I did it. El did it. Wyrn and Tella and all the rest of them did it. There will always be someone stronger than you. Reena was second to El. El was second to me. El learned to be more than a backup: Reena didn’t. Who are you going to be?”

Silver sneered at him, overwhelmed with a sudden rage that she couldn’t bear to point at herself. “What about you? You don’t get it. You are no one’s second.”

“Wrong,” Ath said, lips twisting into a cruel grin. “I am the victim of every demon inside my head. But that’s my fight. You have your own.”

“Screw this,” Silver whispered, wishing she could just leave. Wishing Ath didn’t have his supernatural way of taming all her wildest nightmares. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to sleep.”

“Sure,” Ath said amiably, his tone and expression forming a terrifying oxymoron. “But Silvie, remember this. You are not to compare yourself to El ever again. Or to me or anyone else. Not in your head. Not out loud.”

“You can’t possibly enforce that,” Silver said incredulously.

“Nope,” Ath agreed, “but I’ll know.” He leaned across his desk, putting his hand over hers. “I can work with weak tools, but broken ones are usually better off dead. Take care which you become.”

 

[Through the Living Wrath he/him]

4 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

one more

Silver (after more time had passed):

  Hide contents

“Second,” Silver whispered, clenching her hand into a fist and hitting her thigh. “Second, second, second. Doesn’t it ever change?”

“Stop it,” Ath said. “Silvie, I need you to stop it. Someone’s going to get hurt.”

“Right,” Silver whispered. “Right, because that’s all that matters. No one gets hurt. Keep everyone else safe.”

“Silver,” Ath snapped. “Breathe.” She took a long, shaking breath. “You aren’t thinking logically. Get out of your head.”

“I can’t,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “This always happens. Every time I’m doing better, every time I think I’m free of it all—”

“Okay,” Ath said. “Okay. Just breathe. One breath. Can you do that? Then one more. One more.” Silver complied. “You aren’t going to be able to think clearly tonight, but I have a feeling you won’t sleep either. So we’re going to stay here, and if being quiet will help, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Don’t,” Silver said, hating herself and having him. “Just talk, because otherwise…” her eyes slid shut, and images of twisted bodies filled her mind. Blood on her skirt, torn skin, and her own elation. I’ll be strong tomorrow. “Just talk.”

“Sure,” Ath said, completely businesslike and completely focused on her. “Actually, there’s something I want to tell you. Did you know that El had a sister?”

Silver started at the sound of El’s name in his mouth. “No.”

“She did. Reena was four years older than us. She loved El so fiercely, and her mind was always on protecting her sister. She made sure that El always slept inside, always had enough to eat. Always got the safest jobs, even if that meant risking her own life. Once, she dueled three Talented at once to earn her sister a bowl of soup. El wanted to be just like her.”

Silver watched him with an open mouth. Everyone knew Ath didn’t talk about his life before his father had found him. Everyone knew he didn’t talk about El. What was happening?

“But the thing is, Reena wasn’t special. I know everyone here talks about me and El. They say that the two of us are one in a million. They’re wrong. Reena was one in a million. You’re one in a million. We should never have been born.” Ath sighed softly, looking away. “But that’s another story. The point is, Reena wasn’t like us. She had focus and control like no one I’ve known, but her Talent was weak. After less than a year, El and I were protecting her. And do you know what, Silvie? It tore her apart.

“Reena lived to protect. It was her nature, her soul, the fire that got her up in the mornings. It was her reason to keep fighting. And all at once, she was useless. Less than useless. She was second to her kid sister.” Silver looked away, feeling as if something sharp had been plunged into her chest. “They kept us divided,” Ath said. “Forced us into groups and competitions. El and Reena were fighters. I was a guardian.

“Everyone knew the fighters were the bravest. They were the flashiest, the toughest. They respected Reena, but they feared El. Reena couldn’t stop it, couldn’t do anything but watch as her sister got stronger and stronger. The cruelest irony was, El only fought so hard because she was trying to live up to her sister. Then she was her sister, only better and younger, and Reena became obsolete.

“They started using El more and more often, taking her away on missions. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad, but El reveled in it. She loved the attention, loved being the best. It’s what every kid wants, right? To find that they really are special. That the whole world exists to serve them.” Ath met her eyes. “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Silver gritted her teeth. “What happened to Reena?”

“She died,” Ath said. “Our lives were never easy. There were countless beatings. The masters treated us like animals. They had favorites and least favorites, and Reena had fought long enough that they detested her. I wish we’d known enough to help her, but we were barely ten years old at the time, and so caught up in ourselves that we didn’t understand how desperately alone she was. It’s a dangerous thing, to be alone and inferior. One day she just snapped. Walked out of the camp and kept walking. She wasn’t trying to escape. Just to get a single moment of attention. And I guess it worked; they turned her into an example, made sure all of us kids knew what would happen if we got too arrogant.”

Silver fell silent. She wanted to just sit, but of course her mind had other thoughts. The only way people will care about you is after you’re dead. But this time, the voice didn’t make her angry. Now, she felt a kind of cool determination, a hopeful resignation. “Ath?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we broken?”

Ath let out a huff of breath that could have been a chuckle or a sob. “That’s a big question.”

Silver shrugged uncomfortably. “That’s what the others say. They say that we’re broken and always will be. Like a big pile of shattered glass, sharp enough to cut but completely worthless.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I’m asking you,” Silver snapped. “I don’t know what I believe.”

“Then no,” Ath said firmly. How did he do that? One second, he was nothing but kind. The next he was a leader, perfectly in control and demanding obedience. “We don’t have to be broken. We heal, and then we’re just weak in ways no one else can understand.”

“You aren’t,” Silver muttered. “El wasn’t.”

“We were,” Ath said. “I am. Some weaknesses we won’t ever outgrow. But we can accept chinks in our armor, learn to protect our most vital parts. I did it. El did it. Wyrn and Tella and all the rest of them did it. There will always be someone stronger than you. Reena was second to El. El was second to me. El learned to be more than a backup: Reena didn’t. Who are you going to be?”

Silver sneered at him, overwhelmed with a sudden rage that she couldn’t bear to point at herself. “What about you? You don’t get it. You are no one’s second.”

“Wrong,” Ath said, lips twisting into a cruel grin. “I am the victim of every demon inside my head. But that’s my fight. You have your own.”

“Screw this,” Silver whispered, wishing she could just leave. Wishing Ath didn’t have his supernatural way of taming all her wildest nightmares. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to sleep.”

“Sure,” Ath said amiably, his tone and expression forming a terrifying oxymoron. “But Silvie, remember this. You are not to compare yourself to El ever again. Or to me or anyone else. Not in your head. Not out loud.”

“You can’t possibly enforce that,” Silver said incredulously.

“Nope,” Ath agreed, “but I’ll know.” He leaned across his desk, putting his hand over hers. “I can work with weak tools, but broken ones are usually better off dead. Take care which you become.”

 

Hey, I recognize this!

[Edema Rue she/her]

25 minutes ago, SpiritOfWrath said:

Hey, I recognize this!

tee hee

[Guest Ψιτιsτηε Βεsτ]

On 1/12/2025 at 3:43 PM, Edema Rue said:

Guys, I've written so much

So much

I'll put a few things here whenever I pop on

1:

  Reveal hidden contents

Florin looked up at the sound of clinking chains. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You asked for a colleague, sir.”

He gritted his teeth, barely resisting the urge to throw something at the man."Not him.”

“Sir?”

“Wipe that look off your free," Florin said. "Not everyone wants a traitor at their side.”

The soldier shifted uneasily, looking to his companions for support. None of them would even meet his eyes. "With all due respect, sir, Less is the best. Everyone knows it. He doesn’t fight just any war, and the fact that he’s fighting for us…it means we have a chance.”

No matter how angry he was, Florin was not stupid, and he saw how the rest of the soldiers were nodding along. They nearly worshiped this traitor, so much that they would defend him to their own general. “Fine,” he said softly. "But make sure he’s restrained, and don't even think of touching that gag.”

For three weeks, that was the end of it. Less remained chained in his corner of the command center, silent and tense. Florin could feel him watching and judging his every decision. Still, he refused to give in. He won some battles and lost more. Then more. After one defeat so devastating it could only be called a massacre, he stormed in. He reached for a glass and found that his hand was shaking.

“Are you ready for my help yet?”

Flin whirled. “Who took off the gag?"

Less smiled, dimples showing, eyes dangerously wise. "You can't expect me to answer that." Florin grunted and started searching for a piece of fabric to shove in the man's mouth. “Listen, Flor. It isn't too late. Let me help you." 

“Don't call me that."

Less blinked, but took it in stride. “Would you prefer General? Or maybe the truest title. Brother.”

“I would prefer if you weren’t here.”

“You can be angry all you want,” Less said evenly, “but every time you ignore me more of your people die. You can stop this." Florin said nothing, turning his back on the prisoner. The traitor. That was the only way to think of him. "Please.” Florin started at the sound of that cracked, rasping voice. There was no more of the playful arrogance, no more laughter or lightness. This voice was raw and broken.

"If you want to hear me beg, I'll beg. If you want to throw me back in prison to rot when this is over, go right ahead. But don’t you dare throw away lives because you're too proud to accept my help."

"You betrayed me once,” Florin said slowly, "and I know that you won't hesitate to do it again."

"I serve the people-"

"How many of our people are dead because of you?” Something crumbled in Florin’s grasp. He didn't bother to look at it.

"Not your people, my brother. The people. Not this country or any other. I do it for the soldiers who are dying on the front lines every second that we sit here arguing. I do it for the boys who don't remember why they're fighting or when they last ate. For the people we used to be.” There was a beat, and then the sound of raindrops falling gently onto the roof.

“Do you remember, Flor? Sleepless nights and mud in our boots. Days and then weeks where the only thing we tasted was blood. Splinters of bone that seemed as bright as stars and letters from Mom by firelight. It was a long time ago, and it all seems so distant now. But there are people living those lives right now. In your army, in his, it doesn't matter to me. I don't fight wars anymore; I end them.”

Florin turned. Less was staring pointedly at the ground, muscles tensed and angry. “War is so ugly. If I had a better word to describe it…but I don't think words are enough. Everyone comes out broken, if they come out at all. So much blood has already been shed. So many people are gone. Please, Flor, let me end it.”

Less finally looked up. Не looked wild, young, anguished. Broken. A memory to the surface of Florin’s mind, unwanted but needed. His mother, old and alone.

"War has ruined my sons," she’d wailed. "My Florin will fight until he dies, and my Less will fight forever.”

"I hate you." Florin said quietly. "I hate you for what you did. I hate you for staying young when I had to grow up." He met his brother’s dark eyes, wondering at the things they'd seen. “Mostly, though, I hate you for being brave enough to choose another path.”

He exhaled, letting the loathing that had grown within him for years simmer, then pushing it into the furthest corner of his mind. There would be time for it later. “Where do we start?"

2:

  Reveal hidden contents

“She’ll work herself to death—”

“Let her.”

“Let her? Captain, whatever grudge you have, now is not the time.”

“I don’t have a grudge.”

“But you’re perfectly willing to let her kill herself.”

“If she dies, she dies. Nothing I can do about it.”

“Of course there is. You can pull her out of this, make her stop.”

“What, so she can drink her worries away?”

“Is that really what she’d do?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. If it matters so much to you, you make her stop.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Training it is, then.”

“Captain, she needs help.”

“Yes. She does. Help that we can’t give her. If we try, we might make it worse. She’s in such a fragile state that anything we do could send her over the edge. So let her train. If she was drinking, I could fix it. If she was moping about all day—like someone I know—I could fix it. She isn’t depressed, she’s angry and she’s terrified. So I’ll let her train. If she dies, she dies, but if she doesn’t she’ll become an asset that no one can refuse. She’ll be worth enough that someone who knows how to help her will.”

“Captain…”

“Stop that.”

“You’re scared for her, aren’t you? You don’t want her to die.”

“I said stop it.”

“You love her.”

“Get out.”

“What you’re doing is brave. It’s stupid and it might get her killed, but it’s brave.”

“Be quiet.”

“Stop telling me to—”

“Do you hear that?”

“Is that…knocking?”

“Excellent. Answer the door and don’t come back. I’ve had more than enough of you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and Angel?”

“Sir.”

“Don’t breathe a word of this. I won’t have you meddling again.”

3: Anyone remember Corin? I decided he was too cool for just one RP, so now he has his own story (and hopefully I'll write more).

  Hide contents

“All right, all of you out.” Corin said the words with a half smile, sweeping at the youngest boys with a broom. Everyone laughed, but no one moved. This was almost a ritual now, a habit that had become tradition. “I mean it!” Corin scowled fiercely. “I’ve got paying customers who’ll be here any minute.” He stuck out his tongue as they left. There was no malice between them. Not here. 

“Cor.” He turned, meeting Alix’s eyes with a smile. 

His friend looked distinctly uncomfortable, enough to make Corin frown. “What’s up?”

“I got a message from Dane this morning. He wants to talk.”

Corin’s gaze immediately hardened. “To both of us? We’d have to be stupid to agree to that.”

Alix shrugged darkly. “He says it’s important.”

“Sure it is,” Corin said, clenching his fists. “It’s obviously a trap.”

“I know,” Alix said quietly. “But Cor…I haven’t seen Quinn in a few days, and we both know that Dane isn’t above hostages.”

“Bones,” Corin breathed. “We can’t leave him. He’s just a kid.” They were all just kids, but Quinn…he was young in a way the rest of them weren’t. Body and mind.

Alix nodded. “If he hurts Quinn, I’ll ruin him.”

Corin nodded once, firmly. They didn’t leave their own to die. But… “He could throw us in prison,” Corin realized. “Have us executed. He wouldn’t even need a trial. People like him don’t need permission to kill people like us. If we’re gone, what happens to everyone else?”

“We can’t leave him!”

“I’m not saying we should,” Corin said, raising his hands. “Dust and bones, this is a mess. When does he want to meet?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?!” Alix flinched, his hand going to his belt, and Corin took a long breath. He really was worried if he’d forgotten not to raise his voice around Alix. Every street kid had their triggers. “Where?” Alix bit his lip. “Where, Al?”

“Here.” Alix met his eyes. They were the same age, but all of a sudden Corin’s old friend looked so young. Like…like the teenager that he was, and not the leader of every common thief in the city. “He said he’d come here.”

Corin closed his eyes, gritting his teeth and trying not to scream. It had been too much to hope that Dane didn’t know about the bar. Too much to hope that he might be safe, that this haven he’d created was real. Still…did Dane have any idea what he was walking into? He’d insist that no one else be present, but…this place was Corin’s. He knew dozens of ways out, and Dane never had been able to beat him in a fight. If they were going to meet anywhere, better that it be on his own home turf. “Guess we’d better be ready, then.”

 

Alix had no idea how Corin stayed so calm. When he saw the note, he’d nearly gone and killed Dane right then. And now there he was, right in front of them, and Corin barely blinked. But his friend had always been like that. Poised, ready. Whatever emotion he showed was painted on, a perfect mask. 

“Old friends,” Dane said, smiling cruelly.

“Shut up,” Alix snapped. “Where’s Quinn?”

“The boy is safe.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Alix snarled. 

Dane sighed softly. “Would you like me to fetch him?”

“Yes–” Alix started.

“Wait,” Corin interrupted. He spoke, as always, with a tired rasp that made him sound older than he was. Alix glanced at him. His eyes were on Dane. “Where is he? I’ll get him. You stay here.”

The ghost of a smile flickered across Dane’s face. Alix hated him for that. Traitors had no right to smile. “Clever as always, aren’t you? He’s across the street. Second floor, third door on the left.”

“Guards?”

Dane laughed. Alix hated that laugh more than he hated the smile. “You think he needs them?” Corin’s gaze darkened almost imperceptibly. Alix doubted that anyone outside the three of them would even notice. But Dane did, and it worried him. “No guards. No tricks. I really do want to talk, and if it’ll make you happy to get him back first, go ahead.”

Corin frowned. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. Weirdly enough, it seemed as if he was talking to both of them…oh. A moment later, he’d slipped out the front door. As soon as he was gone, Dane slipped into a chair at the bar, suddenly looking very tired. 

“Do you remember,” he said quietly, “when Cor first said he wanted to quit? We thought he was crazy. We were young, rich, talented. The world was ours for the taking, and he wanted to let it all go.” Dane glanced at Alix, who hadn’t moved. “Sit down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Alix said. “You don’t get to waltz in here and pretend like you care after all this time—”

“What I did was for the best.”

Alix stilled, feeling his anger shift to something darker. Colder. “How many,” he whispered, “of our friends are still in prison because of what you did?”

“Twelve.” Alix didn’t have a chance to be surprised before Dane continued. “Six died in the mines. Three got out, and one more died trying. Twelve of them are still there.”

“But it was for the best.” Alix shook his head, disgusted. “Is that what you say every time someone dies in your factory? That it’s for the best? Those people are just like us!”

Dane stared at the counter, tapping an irregular rhythm. He didn’t look hurt, but he also wasn’t smiling anymore. “It’s been cold recently. Your crew doing all right?”

Alix scowled at the floor. It’s been cold recently…Dane hadn’t slept on the street in a long, long time. But he held his tongue, not saying another word until Corin got back. Alone.

“Where is he?”

Corin held up his hands pacifyingly. “I sent him to the Nest. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to bring him back here.”

Alix sniffed. “You sent him alone?”

Corin fixed him with a hard stare. “He’s been through worse, Al. He’ll be fine.” Alix nodded, chagrined. He wasn’t mad at Corin, he reminded himself. “So,” Corin said, stalking to his place behind the counter and gesturing for Alix to sit. He did. “What can I do for you?”

That same half-dead smile twisted Dane’s face. “Are you offering drinks?”

“I can’t afford to turn a paying customer away; you’re welcome to whatever you’ve got the coin for. Won’t be much to you.” Dane winced and Alix chuckled. Corin was good. 

“Look,” Dane said. “I know you don’t like me.” He paused, waiting for a retort, but Alix had nothing left to say, and Corin was too good of a host to snap. After a pause, he continued.“I have no right to ask for your help. But the fact is, I need it, and I’m willing to pay.”

Alix and Corin shared a glance. Alix spoke first. “A job, is that it? Something none of your rich friends will do?”

“Something none of them can do,” Dane said carefully. “I don’t know anyone with quicker fingers than you, Alix. And no one can fight like Corin.”

“And neither of us,” Corin said dryly, “can flatter quite like you. If Al wants in, he’s welcome to this job of yours. But I don’t forgive traitors, and there’s more at stake than just us.” Alix stood and walked to Corin’s side of the counter, making it clear where his loyalties were. 

Dane’s eyes hardened. “More at stake…yes. There is. Do you really understand what that means?” Alix blinked. Corin suddenly looked nervous. “I’m among the most powerful men in this city,” Dane said. “I own dozens of factories and mills. I can buy, bribe, and blackmail anyone I want, including the governor. You and the rest of the street rats might hate me—but that’s all you are. Rats. If I want the city cleaned out, you and all your friends are gone. If I decide I don’t like this little tavern, there’s nothing you can do. Don’t press me.”

Corin leaned forward. “Is that a threat?”

Dane met his eyes. “Yes. You’re going to help me, or I will end life as you know it. All the little ones who rely on you…I could always use more hands in my factories.”

“You’re sick,” Alix spat.

Dane shook his head. “I do what needs to be done. I use what’s mine, the same as we always have.”

“You’re nothing like we were.” 

Dane shrugged, looking almost regretful. “Maybe not. But I’m powerful, and that’s better.” He stood up, nodding to Corin. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Remember what—and who—is at stake. I trust you’ll make the smart choice.”

I'll put more on at some point, I've been writing a lot on paper and I don't feel like making anything digital right now.

"Dust and Bones". I think Brandon has left a mark. 

 

[Edema Rue she/her]

8 minutes ago, ɴɪɢʜʈ said:

"Dust and Bones". I think Brandon has left a mark. 

 

…

…

it’s almost like I read his books

[Through the Living Wrath he/him]

4 minutes ago, Edema Rue said:

…

…

it’s almost like I read his books

No, that couldn’t be

[RoyalBeeMage he/him]

On 1/13/2025 at 6:43 AM, Edema Rue said:

Guys, I've written so much

So much

I'll put a few things here whenever I pop on

1:

  Hide contents

Florin looked up at the sound of clinking chains. "What do you think you're doing?"

"You asked for a colleague, sir.”

He gritted his teeth, barely resisting the urge to throw something at the man."Not him.”

“Sir?”

“Wipe that look off your free," Florin said. "Not everyone wants a traitor at their side.”

The soldier shifted uneasily, looking to his companions for support. None of them would even meet his eyes. "With all due respect, sir, Less is the best. Everyone knows it. He doesn’t fight just any war, and the fact that he’s fighting for us…it means we have a chance.”

No matter how angry he was, Florin was not stupid, and he saw how the rest of the soldiers were nodding along. They nearly worshiped this traitor, so much that they would defend him to their own general. “Fine,” he said softly. "But make sure he’s restrained, and don't even think of touching that gag.”

For three weeks, that was the end of it. Less remained chained in his corner of the command center, silent and tense. Florin could feel him watching and judging his every decision. Still, he refused to give in. He won some battles and lost more. Then more. After one defeat so devastating it could only be called a massacre, he stormed in. He reached for a glass and found that his hand was shaking.

“Are you ready for my help yet?”

Flin whirled. “Who took off the gag?"

Less smiled, dimples showing, eyes dangerously wise. "You can't expect me to answer that." Florin grunted and started searching for a piece of fabric to shove in the man's mouth. “Listen, Flor. It isn't too late. Let me help you." 

“Don't call me that."

Less blinked, but took it in stride. “Would you prefer General? Or maybe the truest title. Brother.”

“I would prefer if you weren’t here.”

“You can be angry all you want,” Less said evenly, “but every time you ignore me more of your people die. You can stop this." Florin said nothing, turning his back on the prisoner. The traitor. That was the only way to think of him. "Please.” Florin started at the sound of that cracked, rasping voice. There was no more of the playful arrogance, no more laughter or lightness. This voice was raw and broken.

"If you want to hear me beg, I'll beg. If you want to throw me back in prison to rot when this is over, go right ahead. But don’t you dare throw away lives because you're too proud to accept my help."

"You betrayed me once,” Florin said slowly, "and I know that you won't hesitate to do it again."

"I serve the people-"

"How many of our people are dead because of you?” Something crumbled in Florin’s grasp. He didn't bother to look at it.

"Not your people, my brother. The people. Not this country or any other. I do it for the soldiers who are dying on the front lines every second that we sit here arguing. I do it for the boys who don't remember why they're fighting or when they last ate. For the people we used to be.” There was a beat, and then the sound of raindrops falling gently onto the roof.

“Do you remember, Flor? Sleepless nights and mud in our boots. Days and then weeks where the only thing we tasted was blood. Splinters of bone that seemed as bright as stars and letters from Mom by firelight. It was a long time ago, and it all seems so distant now. But there are people living those lives right now. In your army, in his, it doesn't matter to me. I don't fight wars anymore; I end them.”

Florin turned. Less was staring pointedly at the ground, muscles tensed and angry. “War is so ugly. If I had a better word to describe it…but I don't think words are enough. Everyone comes out broken, if they come out at all. So much blood has already been shed. So many people are gone. Please, Flor, let me end it.”

Less finally looked up. Не looked wild, young, anguished. Broken. A memory to the surface of Florin’s mind, unwanted but needed. His mother, old and alone.

"War has ruined my sons," she’d wailed. "My Florin will fight until he dies, and my Less will fight forever.”

"I hate you." Florin said quietly. "I hate you for what you did. I hate you for staying young when I had to grow up." He met his brother’s dark eyes, wondering at the things they'd seen. “Mostly, though, I hate you for being brave enough to choose another path.”

He exhaled, letting the loathing that had grown within him for years simmer, then pushing it into the furthest corner of his mind. There would be time for it later. “Where do we start?"

2:

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“She’ll work herself to death—”

“Let her.”

“Let her? Captain, whatever grudge you have, now is not the time.”

“I don’t have a grudge.”

“But you’re perfectly willing to let her kill herself.”

“If she dies, she dies. Nothing I can do about it.”

“Of course there is. You can pull her out of this, make her stop.”

“What, so she can drink her worries away?”

“Is that really what she’d do?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. If it matters so much to you, you make her stop.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Training it is, then.”

“Captain, she needs help.”

“Yes. She does. Help that we can’t give her. If we try, we might make it worse. She’s in such a fragile state that anything we do could send her over the edge. So let her train. If she was drinking, I could fix it. If she was moping about all day—like someone I know—I could fix it. She isn’t depressed, she’s angry and she’s terrified. So I’ll let her train. If she dies, she dies, but if she doesn’t she’ll become an asset that no one can refuse. She’ll be worth enough that someone who knows how to help her will.”

“Captain…”

“Stop that.”

“You’re scared for her, aren’t you? You don’t want her to die.”

“I said stop it.”

“You love her.”

“Get out.”

“What you’re doing is brave. It’s stupid and it might get her killed, but it’s brave.”

“Be quiet.”

“Stop telling me to—”

“Do you hear that?”

“Is that…knocking?”

“Excellent. Answer the door and don’t come back. I’ve had more than enough of you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, and Angel?”

“Sir.”

“Don’t breathe a word of this. I won’t have you meddling again.”

3: Anyone remember Corin? I decided he was too cool for just one RP, so now he has his own story (and hopefully I'll write more).

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“All right, all of you out.” Corin said the words with a half smile, sweeping at the youngest boys with a broom. Everyone laughed, but no one moved. This was almost a ritual now, a habit that had become tradition. “I mean it!” Corin scowled fiercely. “I’ve got paying customers who’ll be here any minute.” He stuck out his tongue as they left. There was no malice between them. Not here. 

“Cor.” He turned, meeting Alix’s eyes with a smile. 

His friend looked distinctly uncomfortable, enough to make Corin frown. “What’s up?”

“I got a message from Dane this morning. He wants to talk.”

Corin’s gaze immediately hardened. “To both of us? We’d have to be stupid to agree to that.”

Alix shrugged darkly. “He says it’s important.”

“Sure it is,” Corin said, clenching his fists. “It’s obviously a trap.”

“I know,” Alix said quietly. “But Cor…I haven’t seen Quinn in a few days, and we both know that Dane isn’t above hostages.”

“Bones,” Corin breathed. “We can’t leave him. He’s just a kid.” They were all just kids, but Quinn…he was young in a way the rest of them weren’t. Body and mind.

Alix nodded. “If he hurts Quinn, I’ll ruin him.”

Corin nodded once, firmly. They didn’t leave their own to die. But… “He could throw us in prison,” Corin realized. “Have us executed. He wouldn’t even need a trial. People like him don’t need permission to kill people like us. If we’re gone, what happens to everyone else?”

“We can’t leave him!”

“I’m not saying we should,” Corin said, raising his hands. “Dust and bones, this is a mess. When does he want to meet?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight?!” Alix flinched, his hand going to his belt, and Corin took a long breath. He really was worried if he’d forgotten not to raise his voice around Alix. Every street kid had their triggers. “Where?” Alix bit his lip. “Where, Al?”

“Here.” Alix met his eyes. They were the same age, but all of a sudden Corin’s old friend looked so young. Like…like the teenager that he was, and not the leader of every common thief in the city. “He said he’d come here.”

Corin closed his eyes, gritting his teeth and trying not to scream. It had been too much to hope that Dane didn’t know about the bar. Too much to hope that he might be safe, that this haven he’d created was real. Still…did Dane have any idea what he was walking into? He’d insist that no one else be present, but…this place was Corin’s. He knew dozens of ways out, and Dane never had been able to beat him in a fight. If they were going to meet anywhere, better that it be on his own home turf. “Guess we’d better be ready, then.”

 

Alix had no idea how Corin stayed so calm. When he saw the note, he’d nearly gone and killed Dane right then. And now there he was, right in front of them, and Corin barely blinked. But his friend had always been like that. Poised, ready. Whatever emotion he showed was painted on, a perfect mask. 

“Old friends,” Dane said, smiling cruelly.

“Shut up,” Alix snapped. “Where’s Quinn?”

“The boy is safe.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Alix snarled. 

Dane sighed softly. “Would you like me to fetch him?”

“Yes–” Alix started.

“Wait,” Corin interrupted. He spoke, as always, with a tired rasp that made him sound older than he was. Alix glanced at him. His eyes were on Dane. “Where is he? I’ll get him. You stay here.”

The ghost of a smile flickered across Dane’s face. Alix hated him for that. Traitors had no right to smile. “Clever as always, aren’t you? He’s across the street. Second floor, third door on the left.”

“Guards?”

Dane laughed. Alix hated that laugh more than he hated the smile. “You think he needs them?” Corin’s gaze darkened almost imperceptibly. Alix doubted that anyone outside the three of them would even notice. But Dane did, and it worried him. “No guards. No tricks. I really do want to talk, and if it’ll make you happy to get him back first, go ahead.”

Corin frowned. “Don’t be stupid,” he said. Weirdly enough, it seemed as if he was talking to both of them…oh. A moment later, he’d slipped out the front door. As soon as he was gone, Dane slipped into a chair at the bar, suddenly looking very tired. 

“Do you remember,” he said quietly, “when Cor first said he wanted to quit? We thought he was crazy. We were young, rich, talented. The world was ours for the taking, and he wanted to let it all go.” Dane glanced at Alix, who hadn’t moved. “Sit down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Alix said. “You don’t get to waltz in here and pretend like you care after all this time—”

“What I did was for the best.”

Alix stilled, feeling his anger shift to something darker. Colder. “How many,” he whispered, “of our friends are still in prison because of what you did?”

“Twelve.” Alix didn’t have a chance to be surprised before Dane continued. “Six died in the mines. Three got out, and one more died trying. Twelve of them are still there.”

“But it was for the best.” Alix shook his head, disgusted. “Is that what you say every time someone dies in your factory? That it’s for the best? Those people are just like us!”

Dane stared at the counter, tapping an irregular rhythm. He didn’t look hurt, but he also wasn’t smiling anymore. “It’s been cold recently. Your crew doing all right?”

Alix scowled at the floor. It’s been cold recently…Dane hadn’t slept on the street in a long, long time. But he held his tongue, not saying another word until Corin got back. Alone.

“Where is he?”

Corin held up his hands pacifyingly. “I sent him to the Nest. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to bring him back here.”

Alix sniffed. “You sent him alone?”

Corin fixed him with a hard stare. “He’s been through worse, Al. He’ll be fine.” Alix nodded, chagrined. He wasn’t mad at Corin, he reminded himself. “So,” Corin said, stalking to his place behind the counter and gesturing for Alix to sit. He did. “What can I do for you?”

That same half-dead smile twisted Dane’s face. “Are you offering drinks?”

“I can’t afford to turn a paying customer away; you’re welcome to whatever you’ve got the coin for. Won’t be much to you.” Dane winced and Alix chuckled. Corin was good. 

“Look,” Dane said. “I know you don’t like me.” He paused, waiting for a retort, but Alix had nothing left to say, and Corin was too good of a host to snap. After a pause, he continued.“I have no right to ask for your help. But the fact is, I need it, and I’m willing to pay.”

Alix and Corin shared a glance. Alix spoke first. “A job, is that it? Something none of your rich friends will do?”

“Something none of them can do,” Dane said carefully. “I don’t know anyone with quicker fingers than you, Alix. And no one can fight like Corin.”

“And neither of us,” Corin said dryly, “can flatter quite like you. If Al wants in, he’s welcome to this job of yours. But I don’t forgive traitors, and there’s more at stake than just us.” Alix stood and walked to Corin’s side of the counter, making it clear where his loyalties were. 

Dane’s eyes hardened. “More at stake…yes. There is. Do you really understand what that means?” Alix blinked. Corin suddenly looked nervous. “I’m among the most powerful men in this city,” Dane said. “I own dozens of factories and mills. I can buy, bribe, and blackmail anyone I want, including the governor. You and the rest of the street rats might hate me—but that’s all you are. Rats. If I want the city cleaned out, you and all your friends are gone. If I decide I don’t like this little tavern, there’s nothing you can do. Don’t press me.”

Corin leaned forward. “Is that a threat?”

Dane met his eyes. “Yes. You’re going to help me, or I will end life as you know it. All the little ones who rely on you…I could always use more hands in my factories.”

“You’re sick,” Alix spat.

Dane shook his head. “I do what needs to be done. I use what’s mine, the same as we always have.”

“You’re nothing like we were.” 

Dane shrugged, looking almost regretful. “Maybe not. But I’m powerful, and that’s better.” He stood up, nodding to Corin. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Remember what—and who—is at stake. I trust you’ll make the smart choice.”

I'll put more on at some point, I've been writing a lot on paper and I don't feel like making anything digital right now.

On 1/16/2025 at 8:18 AM, Edema Rue said:

GUYS IM IN LOVE

WITH THIS CHARACTER

who I created

Shhhhh

Aaaaaaanyway, I hope you enjoy and please tell me what you think, I want to polish this scene (then make it grow, which it has already done a lot--it was originally 700 words).

Silver:

  Reveal hidden contents

“You know,” Ath said, “a lot of people enjoy this.”

“Enjoy it.”

“Sure.” He reached up lazily, the wind dancing through his fingers, down his arm, then nesting amiably in his hair. “It isn’t meant to scare you.”

“I’m not scared.”

Ath blinked, not surprised at the words but surprised that he believed her. “Good.” He nodded and pulled out a handkerchief for the wind to play with. “Good. Would you like to give it a try, then?”

“No.”

Ath grimaced. She was quiet, and he knew she didn’t mean any harm, but it always came off as infuriatingly petulant. Still, she had the most Talent he’d seen in a long time; however disturbing her quirks, it would be worth it in the end. “Why not?”

She cocked her head, studying him. He studied her right back, eyes darkening until she finally looked away. “Don’t want to.”

Ath pursed his lips. It’ll be worth it. “Silver.” Her jaw tightened. He didn’t like using that name, but she’d refused to accept a new one. Until she did, this pain was something she’d have to live with. “I’m not going to threaten you. I’m not going to bribe you. I understand that there are things we’ll need to work through. But if you don’t explain them to me, I can’t help you. You won’t learn. Our way of living is dangerous, and if you can’t defend yourself, they’ll take you back.”

A swallow. A nod.

Ath smiled warmly. “I want you to change the world, Silvie. You’re too good to get locked up again.”

She nodded again, and this time Ath stayed silent, letting her think. Letting her feel. He watched her jaw tighten, her chest inflate, then deflate. “I don’t want to,” she said again, quieter. Smaller. “I don’t want to let it in.” Ath raised an eyebrow. “The wind. It makes me a monster.”

Ath blinked again, feeling a sudden chill rush into his heart. How was it that she always seemed to surprise him? “What do you mean?”

“It—” Silver took a breath. Then another, her fists clenched tight. Ath’s handkerchief fell to the floor, as if the wind were watching. “I tell myself stories,” she finally said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “I always have. There’s no other way to survive. I try to…to stay good. But the wind makes me a monster.” She blinked rapidly. Ath knew she couldn’t cry any longer, but old habits die hard. “There’s no other way to say it. When I use it, I feel powerful.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Ath prompted. 

“Yes.” She said the word vehemently, more sure than he’d ever heard her. “Yes, it is, because then I stop wanting love, or comfort, or even safety. I want to hurt them. I want to do such terrible things, and late at night, whenever they finally left me alone, I would tell myself the stories. Sick ones. I imagined the fear in their eyes, the terror. I could taste their blood, feel it on my skin. I killed them slowly, savored every moment of their pain. I could hear myself laughing, Ath, and I loved it. I hate myself for it, but that doesn’t change the way I feel. I can’t let myself become that person.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide and desperate. “The Talent is the only reason I’m worth anything. And it’s the one thing I can’t let myself do.”

Ath let the words settle, let her see that he understood. And he did understand, better than anyone in the world. Better than anyone would ever want to. “Thank you.” She started, the same way she had when he’d showed her her room and let her lock the door. “Thank you for telling me, Silvie. This will take work, but it’s something we can do.”

“How do you know?”

Ath froze, then forced himself to smile. Stay warm. Don’t hurt her. And don’t hurt yourself either. “Have you ever actually hurt someone the way you imagine?” 

She shook her head.

"I did. I used to be exactly like you are now. But I didn't just tell the stories, I lived them, and a lot of people died because of it. I broke, but you haven’t. You’re tough. You’re good. And you are so much more than the Talent you carry. These stories don’t define you, and they won’t always be a part of you. When I told you that you were safe, I didn’t just mean from others. Here, you’re safe from yourself too.”

Silver thought for a long moment, and Ath let her. Sometimes time was the best thing you could give a person, and anything he said now might pull her outside herself. “Thank you,” she finally said.

“Of course. Now, do you want to show me what you can do, or should we eat first?”

She took a breath. “I’m still—scared.” She didn’t sound scared. She sounded furious.

“I know,” Ath said. “So let’s try something else. Can you close your eyes for me?” She only hesitated a moment before complying. Progress. “Good. Now I want you to imagine the loneliest place you’ve ever seen. Describe it for me.”

“A mountain.” There was no sign of hesitation or thought. Whether she’d expected the question or had only one possible answer Ath could only guess. “I saw it when they brought me to the city. There was snow on it, even in the middle of summer, and it was in the longest stretch between villages.”

“Cindermount,” Ath said, struggling to hold back a flood of memories. “I know it.” That’s quite an understatement…shut up. This is about her. “I want you to imagine you’re standing on top of it, all alone except for the wind.”

Silver started shaking. “I can’t—”

“There’s no one else. No one you can hurt and nothing you can destroy. I know they’re on the surface of your mind, but I don’t want you to think about the people who’ve hurt you. Just keep imagining the top of that mountain. A breeze through your hair, on your face.”

Ath’s handkerchief lifted itself from the floor, fluttering back over to him. He tucked it back into his pocket absentmindedly. “Now try to bring that feeling out of your mind. Wind in your hair, the gentlest touch against your cheeks.” 

Then, barely visible, several locks of her hair blew back. Silver opened her eyes and glared. “What did you do?”

“That wasn’t me—” Ath started, but she cut him off. 

“The wind was mine, but it should have been stronger.”

Ath cursed inwardly. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you. Whenever someone gets out for the first time, they use the wind the way they’ve always been told to. Too hard, too dangerous. I take control of most of the air, and you can’t use it while I’m holding it,so even if you push with all your strength, you can’t hurt anyone. I don’t know why I forgot to tell you.” 

Silver took his explanation easily. “Is that something I can do?”

Ath nodded, not sure whether to be relieved or worried about her sudden interest. “It takes some practice, but I don’t expect you to have trouble with it.”

Silver smiled. “Anyone with the Talent can do this?”

Ath nodded again. “Like I said, it doesn’t  come right away, but I’ve never met someone who couldn’t.” He didn’t mention that he’d never met someone who surpassed him at this particular ability, or most others. They could talk about that some other time. 

Silver snorted softly. Then flushed. “There was a boy,” she said by way of explanation. “He said he was better than the rest of us. But he wasn’t. He just had more training.”

“Right,” Ath said. “Some people are genuinely stronger, but usually it’s just a matter of practice. However,” he added, noticing a familiar look in her eyes, “you can’t risk burning yourself out. There’s a balance in all things. And I meant what I said about everyone being safe here. I can’t let them get hurt. So here, you can only use the Talent in a training room.”

The girl stilled. “It isn’t that I want to always be using the wind,” she said slowly. “I don’t. But if you’re saying I can’t…”

“It makes you want it more. I know.” Ath sighed softly. “I don’t like it either, trust me. But I don’t make the rules, and I agree that this is the better option. I’ll take being inconvenienced over counting the casualties every time someone has a nightmare.”

Silver was frowning. “But you’ve been using it this whole time. And I just did…”

“Well.” Ath winked, feeling his mouth twist into a smirk. “I’m sort of the exception.” Silver blinked, and he sighed. She’d get a sense of humor sooner or later. If he did nothing else, Rill would take care of that. “It’s complicated. But better to tell you now than for you to find out later. My point is, don’t train yourself to death. Learn about other parts of yourself. Make friends. Can you do that?”

Silver hesitated for a moment too long. But as she opened her mouth to answer, there was a stern knock on the door and she snapped it shut, tensing and looking just as guarded as when he’d first seen her. He stifled a groan. “Come in.” The door opened and a tall man with meticulously combed dark hair entered. Ath stood immediately. “Dad.”

“Oh,” Silver whispered. 

His father smiled at her, then glanced at Ath. “Dinner is about to start. Is she coming?”

Ath pursed his lips. Every time… “She’s right here,” he said, “and it’s up to her. Do you want to?”

“Will there be other people?” Silver looked even more nervous.

“Yes,” Ath said, “but good ones.”

“You’ll have to meet them soon anyway,” Father said. “I think now is as good a time as any.”

Silver thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.” She left. Father nodded to Ath, then shut the door, leaving him alone.

 

“Isn’t Ath coming?” It bothered Silver how much the idea of doing this alone bothered her. It had only been a handful of days, and she’d already come to rely on him. That was a weakness, and she wasn’t weak. 

“My son needs time to recharge,” the man said softly. “He rarely deigns to eat with the other youths.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to exhaust him.”

“You aren’t,” the man said quickly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if working with you was the best part of his day. He just had a lot on his plate.”

“Because of you?”

Ath’s father chuckled, but his eyes looked sad. He shared those eyes with his son. Wise and heartbroken. “I sincerely hope not. He seems to think he’s the only one who can get anything done around here; the problem is, he’s usually right.”

“Oh.” Silver didn’t have anything else to say, so she didn’t, and they walked through the hallways in silence. This part of the compound was beautiful, all carved wood and polished stone. Ath had said that it was originally a noble’s last resort house in case the capital was taken. They’d built from it since, leaving only several offices in the original structure. The rest of it, like the dining area they were just entering, was far more efficient.

“Wait,” Silver said. “How many are there?”

“Only four.” He smiled reassuringly. “There are three others, but they aren’t here right now. They’re going to love you, Silver.”

“Silvie,” she said, meeting his eyes. He nodded and gestured for her to open the door. “You aren’t coming either?”

“I can. But I think you’ll do better if you go in there on your own two feet, don’t you?”

Silver swallowed. “Yeah.”

 

Everyone knew she was coming today, so no one was surprised when the door opened. But Tella froze at the sight of her. The girl radiated power. It filled the room, charging the air and adding weight to her every step. 

“Hey,” Rill said. He didn't have the Talent and so was perfectly oblivious. “Welcome. I’m Rill.”

“Silver,” the girl said, scanning the group with cold, hostile eyes. 

“Tella,” Tella said, shaking off her awe. Dallyn and Wyrn introduced themselves, and then there was an awkward beat. “Do you want to sit down?” Tella said hesitantly.

Silver didn’t say anything, but she sat.

“So,” Rill said, “what do you want to eat?”

“Does it matter?”

Rill winked. “It does when Tel cooks.”

“Hey!” Tella glared, letting the others laugh. They laughed too loud and too long, but hopefully Silver was unfamiliar enough with people not to notice. “He’s joking,” Tella said pointedly. “I’m an excellent cook. It’s Dallyn you’ve got to watch out for.”

Lips pursed, Dallyn reached for a roll and handed it to Silver. “Try it,” he said. “Then you can tell our friend how wrong she is.”

Hesitantly, Silver took a bite. Her eyes widened. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.

They let the conversation continue, flowing into easy topics and asking Silver the safest of questions—what she thought of her room, whether or not she wanted to fight. Slowly, Tella relaxed. No matter how powerful this girl was, she was just a girl. Scared and new, the same way they’d all been once.

 

“You didn’t tell us.” 

Ath took a breath. “Close the door, Wyrn.”

He did, stalking darkly up to Ath’s desk. “Why didn’t you tell us? Tell me?”

“What would it have changed?”

Wyrn shook his head, eyes wide. “Everything. Everything, Ath! I’ve never seen anyone with more Talent than her. We could finally have a chance to win this!”

Ath raised an eyebrow. “You have.”

“What?”

“You have seen someone with more Talent.”

Wyrn scoffed. “Fishing for compliments?”

“Of course not.” Ath tried a smile. “But one would be nice.” Wyrn crossed his arms. “Fine. But listen to me. She doesn’t need to be told she’s the second best. Not by me and definitely not by you. She needs friends, allies.”

“Ath, this could be our chance to change things. To help everyone else like us. Are you really going to throw that away for one girl?”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Ath growled. “She needs help, all right? If you insist on thinking of her as a tool, then think of her as a broken one. We have to help her before she can help us.”

“We were all broken too,” Wyrn said crossly. “What’s so different about her?”

“What’s so different?” Ath stood up, glaring. “Stop talking like all of us are just pieces in a game. We’re people, Wyrn. All this girl has ever been defined by is her power. Even her name. Do you know why they called her Silver? Because they had one person better than her. She was always second, always one less than someone else. She doesn’t need that here. She needs to heal, to grow. We’re going to change the world, but if you can’t remember why, it’ll be pointless.”

“I haven’t forgotten why,” Wyrn said, starting towards the door. “But you’ve forgotten how. Our greatest victories always come with sacrifices. Think of El.”

“Get out.” The air was suddenly charged, the wind ready to tear Wyrn to bits if Ath so much as thought of it. In the back of his mind, he realized that the whole compound would be able to feel it, to know he’d lost his cool. He couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“I’m just trying to—”

“Now.”

“Fine.”

Tee hee, wrote that last night.

Then this in AP lang today because my class is silly.

Silver (later):

  Reveal hidden contents

“I don’t get it,” Silver said. “Why is this so frustrating?”

Tella laughed. “You’re actually doing really well.”

“Ha.” Silver tried again, closing her eyes and focusing on the pocket of air in front of her. She could make it do anything, could twist it however she wanted. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to just hold it. To take control without taking action. “This is stupid.” Ath can control a whole room for minutes on end without even thinking about it. “Silvie,” Tella said, raising an eyebrow, “Are you comparing yourself to Ath?”

“No.” She bit her lip. “Yes.”

“No one can do what Ath can do.”

Silver sighed. “A whole room? I should be able to…what?” Tella was looking at the ground. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“He’s different. That’s all.”

“So you’re saying I’ll never be able to control a full room?”

“No,” Tella hedged. She met Silver’s eyes, as if hoping she’d drop it. Silver raised an eyebrow, so the other girl sighed and led her to a bench. They both sat. “Ath really didn’t tell you anything about himself, did he?”

Silver shook her head.

“Right. Well, he’s…he never worked industrially, like the rest of us. Don't get me wrong, the factories are terrible, but his world is completely different. There was a group that wanted to weaponize anyone with the Talent. They got hold of him when he was just a kid–and I mean really just a kid, five or six–and started training him.”

“So it’s just a matter of practice? Then everyone who works hard enough should be able to–”

Tella was shaking her head. “Listen to me. I fully believe you’ll be able to control a full room for an hour, probably more. That is what practice gets you. But Ath has something different. His Talent is skewed. They used him to hold all the air over battlefields so that no one could attack from above, and he did that for more than ten years. Have you even tried to use the Talent outside of a training room or Ath’s office?”

She shook her head.

“Well, you can’t,” Tella said. “You can't use it here because Ath controls the entire base, all the time.”

Silver’s mouth fell open. “That’s impossible.”

“It is for anyone else. That’s why it’s so important that you don’t try to live up to that. Only one person has ever been able to, and she…it’s best not to talk about her.”

“Right,” Silver said, looking down. Second. Again.

“Look at me,” Tella said, almost a command. Silver did. “Get out of your head. Being the strongest isn’t the most important thing. Ath barely functions. He spends hours alone every day. He can’t fight, and if he loses control of his emotions for even a second, everyone here is in danger. The girl who could match him—don’t ever mention her here, especially not to him—she had her quirks too. El never spoke a word to anyone besides Ath. On missions, she did the worst jobs completely alone.”

“What happened to her?”

“There was an accident. They didn’t even try to take her alive.” Silver fell silent, and Tella sighed and stood up. “The point isn’t to tell you it’s hopeless. It’s just a reminder that power comes at a cost. People like El, like Ath, they’re invaluable. They don’t get to take breaks, to sit out. If given the chance to have that sort of power, I wouldn’t take it. There’s no joy in being the best.”

Silver nodded slowly. “I guess there’s wisdom in that.” 

Tella snorted. “But you don’t believe it.”

“No,” Silver said, a little surprised that it was true. “I don’t want joy. I want power. Is that…wrong?”

Tella shrugged. “I don’t have all the answers. But I know you deserve joy, and I’m not going to let you burn that bridge just yet, yeah?” Silver smiled, and Tella winked. “That being said, you’ve got a lot of potential, and we aren’t going to burn that bridge either. You ready to try again?”

Aaaaaaaaand yeah...I have rehearsal tonight and being productive just doesn't work, so I might write about El. Maybe.

On 1/19/2025 at 9:04 AM, Edema Rue said:

Ok here’s another scene, not super long but I’m going to write another today and tomorrow. 

teehee aren’t my titles creative

Silver (much later):

  Reveal hidden contents

“What was she like?” Dead silence. Even the fire seemed quieter, the crickets less somehow muffled. “I wouldn’t ask, but I can’t help but feel that you’re more scared of Ath than sad about her.”

Wyrn chuckled softly, and the unnatural silence softened, blunted into something almost bearable. “I don’t have a problem talking about it. Not here, anyway. At home…” he sighed softly. “It’s not that we’re scared of Ath.”

Rill coughed. “Not completely, anyway.” Wyrn glared at him, but he just shrugged. “You can’t say it isn’t true.”

“Whatever.” Wyrn turned back to Silver. “Mostly, though, we care about him. He doesn’t let us in the way he should, but everyone knows that her death tore him apart. He’s only gotten angry once since you’ve been here—my fault. Do you remember?”

Silver nodded. “It felt like a single breath could knock the whole place down.”

Wyrn nodded. “Imagine that, but exponentially worse and lasting for weeks. Doors would open and shut on their own, papers would reorganize themselves, breezes would start and stop without any cause. Some days, it was perfectly still, but there was a weight to the air. Everyone was on edge. No one could find Ath for three days after he found out what had happened. Once we did, he barricaded himself in his room. Two days after the air went back to normal, he came out smiling and kind, the same way he always is. He refuses to talk about it; I’ve never seen his emotions flare except when people bring her up.”

“I get that,” Silver said softly, “and I’m sorry for him. But, all things considered, I don’t want to hear about Ath right now.”

Tella snorted. “It’ll be hard to talk about El, then. They were almost inseparable.”

“Fine,” Silver said, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Tell me about our star-crossed lovers, then.”

“They weren’t in love,” Rill interjected. “They were just…alone. Together. Neither of them had anyone else. El was never shy, but she physically couldn’t talk to the rest of us. I saw her try a few times. You could see in her eyes that she had something to say, but she wouldn’t be able to say it. Sometimes she got as far as to open her mouth, but…nothing. Ath was familiar, the only part of her world that she’d always known. It was the same for him—there were things he could only say to her.”

“But that’s not important,” Tella interrupted. Silver felt a surge of gratitude. “Tell her about the dueling.” Rill nodded, looking at Wyrn.

He sighed. “Why me?”

“I can’t,” Rill said, leaning back, “and Tel is boring.”

“He’s right,” Tella said ruefully.

“Fine.” Wyrn poked absently at the fire, letting his stick catch and then holding it aloft, summoning a gust of wind to put it out, then repeating the process. “You know how duels go. They’re quick, usually five to ten minutes at most. Ath and El used to duel for hours on end. Eventually, you stop being jealous and just have to admit that they’re different.”

“Who was better?”

Wyrn sighed and shook his head. “Ath. But just barely, and whenever he won, the duel took longer. He could always wait her out as long as he had control of enough air, but when he didn’t…El fought like something from another world. I don’t think it was even possible to escape her. From the start it was always obvious who would win, but neither of them gave up. They stretched their endurance, every ability they had. It was beautiful. Inspiring. It made you want to work twice as hard even if you never saw half the results.”

“They’re the ones who taught us to duel,” Tella added. “Most things they couldn’t talk about. They didn’t really talk about dueling either, but it wasn’t something they had to teach. It was just something they did.”

Silver nodded slowly. “Is this hopeless?” Three sets of eyes met hers. “Just…all of this. Fighting, going on these little raids. We aren’t actually changing anything.”

Rill put a hand on her arm. She started, but didn’t pull away. He wasn’t going to hurt her. “It’s easy to slip into that mindset. Almost impossible not to. But that’s dangerous. That’s the way everyone else thinks. Maybe we won’t fix everything in our lifetimes. Maybe this war will take generations, and no one will even remember that we started it. But maybe it will. If we stop trying, we’ll never know. Besides,” he added, smiling warmly, “if we’d given up, the rest of you would still be prisoners, including Ath and El. Even if we can’t change the world, we can save a few lives. That’s more than enough for me.”

 

On 1/20/2025 at 5:50 AM, Edema Rue said:

one more

Silver (after more time had passed):

  Reveal hidden contents

“Second,” Silver whispered, clenching her hand into a fist and hitting her thigh. “Second, second, second. Doesn’t it ever change?”

“Stop it,” Ath said. “Silvie, I need you to stop it. Someone’s going to get hurt.”

“Right,” Silver whispered. “Right, because that’s all that matters. No one gets hurt. Keep everyone else safe.”

“Silver,” Ath snapped. “Breathe.” She took a long, shaking breath. “You aren’t thinking logically. Get out of your head.”

“I can’t,” she whispered through clenched teeth. “This always happens. Every time I’m doing better, every time I think I’m free of it all—”

“Okay,” Ath said. “Okay. Just breathe. One breath. Can you do that? Then one more. One more.” Silver complied. “You aren’t going to be able to think clearly tonight, but I have a feeling you won’t sleep either. So we’re going to stay here, and if being quiet will help, then that’s what I’ll do.”

“Don’t,” Silver said, hating herself and having him. “Just talk, because otherwise…” her eyes slid shut, and images of twisted bodies filled her mind. Blood on her skirt, torn skin, and her own elation. I’ll be strong tomorrow. “Just talk.”

“Sure,” Ath said, completely businesslike and completely focused on her. “Actually, there’s something I want to tell you. Did you know that El had a sister?”

Silver started at the sound of El’s name in his mouth. “No.”

“She did. Reena was four years older than us. She loved El so fiercely, and her mind was always on protecting her sister. She made sure that El always slept inside, always had enough to eat. Always got the safest jobs, even if that meant risking her own life. Once, she dueled three Talented at once to earn her sister a bowl of soup. El wanted to be just like her.”

Silver watched him with an open mouth. Everyone knew Ath didn’t talk about his life before his father had found him. Everyone knew he didn’t talk about El. What was happening?

“But the thing is, Reena wasn’t special. I know everyone here talks about me and El. They say that the two of us are one in a million. They’re wrong. Reena was one in a million. You’re one in a million. We should never have been born.” Ath sighed softly, looking away. “But that’s another story. The point is, Reena wasn’t like us. She had focus and control like no one I’ve known, but her Talent was weak. After less than a year, El and I were protecting her. And do you know what, Silvie? It tore her apart.

“Reena lived to protect. It was her nature, her soul, the fire that got her up in the mornings. It was her reason to keep fighting. And all at once, she was useless. Less than useless. She was second to her kid sister.” Silver looked away, feeling as if something sharp had been plunged into her chest. “They kept us divided,” Ath said. “Forced us into groups and competitions. El and Reena were fighters. I was a guardian.

“Everyone knew the fighters were the bravest. They were the flashiest, the toughest. They respected Reena, but they feared El. Reena couldn’t stop it, couldn’t do anything but watch as her sister got stronger and stronger. The cruelest irony was, El only fought so hard because she was trying to live up to her sister. Then she was her sister, only better and younger, and Reena became obsolete.

“They started using El more and more often, taking her away on missions. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad, but El reveled in it. She loved the attention, loved being the best. It’s what every kid wants, right? To find that they really are special. That the whole world exists to serve them.” Ath met her eyes. “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Silver gritted her teeth. “What happened to Reena?”

“She died,” Ath said. “Our lives were never easy. There were countless beatings. The masters treated us like animals. They had favorites and least favorites, and Reena had fought long enough that they detested her. I wish we’d known enough to help her, but we were barely ten years old at the time, and so caught up in ourselves that we didn’t understand how desperately alone she was. It’s a dangerous thing, to be alone and inferior. One day she just snapped. Walked out of the camp and kept walking. She wasn’t trying to escape. Just to get a single moment of attention. And I guess it worked; they turned her into an example, made sure all of us kids knew what would happen if we got too arrogant.”

Silver fell silent. She wanted to just sit, but of course her mind had other thoughts. The only way people will care about you is after you’re dead. But this time, the voice didn’t make her angry. Now, she felt a kind of cool determination, a hopeful resignation. “Ath?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we broken?”

Ath let out a huff of breath that could have been a chuckle or a sob. “That’s a big question.”

Silver shrugged uncomfortably. “That’s what the others say. They say that we’re broken and always will be. Like a big pile of shattered glass, sharp enough to cut but completely worthless.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I’m asking you,” Silver snapped. “I don’t know what I believe.”

“Then no,” Ath said firmly. How did he do that? One second, he was nothing but kind. The next he was a leader, perfectly in control and demanding obedience. “We don’t have to be broken. We heal, and then we’re just weak in ways no one else can understand.”

“You aren’t,” Silver muttered. “El wasn’t.”

“We were,” Ath said. “I am. Some weaknesses we won’t ever outgrow. But we can accept chinks in our armor, learn to protect our most vital parts. I did it. El did it. Wyrn and Tella and all the rest of them did it. There will always be someone stronger than you. Reena was second to El. El was second to me. El learned to be more than a backup: Reena didn’t. Who are you going to be?”

Silver sneered at him, overwhelmed with a sudden rage that she couldn’t bear to point at herself. “What about you? You don’t get it. You are no one’s second.”

“Wrong,” Ath said, lips twisting into a cruel grin. “I am the victim of every demon inside my head. But that’s my fight. You have your own.”

“Screw this,” Silver whispered, wishing she could just leave. Wishing Ath didn’t have his supernatural way of taming all her wildest nightmares. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to sleep.”

“Sure,” Ath said amiably, his tone and expression forming a terrifying oxymoron. “But Silvie, remember this. You are not to compare yourself to El ever again. Or to me or anyone else. Not in your head. Not out loud.”

“You can’t possibly enforce that,” Silver said incredulously.

“Nope,” Ath agreed, “but I’ll know.” He leaned across his desk, putting his hand over hers. “I can work with weak tools, but broken ones are usually better off dead. Take care which you become.”

 

Eddie! no i cant! wow! i love your writing as always... however i personaly chose the worse time to read it all... curses be thy name roy for reading right after closing night of midsummers night dream... 

keep up the good work! silver is such an intresting character! i'd love to see more of her!

[Guest Ψιτιsτηε Βεsτ]

15 hours ago, Edema Rue said:

…

…

it’s almost like I read his books

almost