An Unfortunate Adventure! #freewritemadness: Day Twenty-One

Day Twenty-One of the #freewritemadness is upon us!

I literally spent most of the day twirling my hair around my finger. Maybe I should chop it all off. One less distraction. When I wasn’t twirling my hair, I was refreshing my steemit feed over and over to no avail. Listless. Restless. Looking for distractions.

Just one of those days.

Today’s writing… is almost exactly my thoughts. Started off story-like, and then Kat is by herself and my own thoughts and wonderings popped through and I figured, “Eh. Words are words. They might come in handy.”

The prompt for today was – habit.

My wordcount for today was – 1455
My overall wordcount is – 37675

 


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DAY TWENTY-ONE

Katéa reached over and grabbed for her phone, then rolled her eyes at herself before rolling back into Draven’s arms. It was a bad habit that refused to leave even though she knew full well that she had flung the useless piece of junk into the fireplace, and that not even the black and silver goop remained within its confines. She hated the thing, yet her subconscious still wanted it. The more she thought about it, the gladded she was that the battery had died and hadn’t worked here. It was bad enough that she had been responsible for strengthening Serenithyl and allowing Nessie control over it, but at least she hadn’t woken the damned bird up to begin with.

It had to have been Quint’s fault. Nessie said that he had served his purpose, and that had to have been it… and as much as she hated the thought, Nessie had to have been the one to implant the idea into his head. Seriously. Cords up pixie butt cheeks. No-one rational would ever have come up with that idea by themselves! Rational… that was a good one —he had been as irrational as a five-tentacled donkey schlong. She smirked. For all she knew, one of those actually existed in this strange new world. There was so much left to learn.

She nestled in closer to Draven and indulged in his warmth as his hands lightly ran through her hair. This strange new world was her home, this new house was their house, but would it still be theirs if they didn’t deal with that elf soon? Was Nessie even still around here or had she zoomed off to wherever the largest population of humans lay, preparing to exact her revenge? She sighed.

Draven kissed the side of her forehead and murmured, “You’re thinking too much.”

“I have to.”

“No, you don’t; I have to.” He kissed her once more and then climbed up from the bed. “If a man does not think of his woman and child, then what type of man is he?”

She leaned up on an elbow and smirked. “In my world, they would have you burning in the streets for that! Calling me ‘your woman’ as though you claim some sort of ownership over me.” Draven furrowed his brow and began to speak, but she hurriedly continued, “I like it! And I am gladly yours. My world is ridiculous. Can’t even eat a fucking burger without offending someone.”

“A burger?” He shook his head and pulled on his clothes. “What I meant to say is that you no longer have to worry so much. You have done your part, however false that part may have been,” he sighed. “It is what it is. The orb is gone. The elf is gone. Serenithyl is still out there, controlled by said elf. The Masters will come together and they will deal with… the enemy.”

“The enemy?” She swallowed. It sounded so harsh. The elf —the enemy— had been her friend! Albeit a murderous and conniving one. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Being her friend for so long and then having to refer to her as… as an enemy.”

“A friend?” He shook his head again. “The arbalest was crafted by her fine fingers. She was there when my mother was not. And it all means nothing now.”

He retrieved her discarded dress and handed it to her, and she buried her head back into the cushion with a groan. Her and her big mouth. It was always the way. Never thinking before she spoke. She released a heavy sigh. She didn’t want to get up. What was there to do apart from bemoan the elf, bemoan the beasts, and get piss-drunk in Grissom’s tavern? The latter was no longer an option. Life grew within, and even at this early stage it was already strong enough to help Draven and the Master. She would not jeopardise it. There would be no more shitquid, no more pixie dust, not until after he or she was born. He or she…

“Hmm… are there any female Masters?”

“Aye, there are a couple. The mage-blood passes down through family lines. Blood does not discriminate.”

So, the child could either be a he or a she. And Draven did not want her help. Just leave it to the Masters! After everything… she forced herself up from the bed and quickly clothed herself, placing a stubborn hand on his arm before he could disappear.

“I want to help.”

“You have been helping. And if tonight is anything like last night, your help will be required again.”

“No, not like that. There has to be something I can do to help against Nessie and Serenithyl!”

Draven walked towards the door and allowed her a shrug before he stepped outside.

“You are not a dragon, nor are you of the Masters. Your part in this finished when the orb siphoned the sphere and Frukaith returned you to safety. There is no more you can do except allow the unborn blood assist with Glouweln’s protection, and to keep that unborn blood safe.”

The little pixie who had followed them here bobbed up beside him and zipped out as he left the corri-door, and Katéa crossed her arms across her chest, feeling more stubborn than ever.

She was a ‘newcomer’; maybe she could come up with ideas that they could not. A unique perspective! Not that she had ever killed an elf before, and from what she had heard the humans here had plenty of practice at it. No wonder Nessie was pissed and seeking revenge. But, none of it explained why the previous orb-wearer had been killed. Either Nessie was just a psychopathic bitch, or there was something else that the Council had asked of her, that they hadn’t told the elves she accompanied.

Katéa laid down amidst the soft grass and watched the newly created moths flutter about the small flowers. How had Ceth’na died? Nessie had killed the orb-wearer, and had wanted the orb for herself, but somehow that other elf had grabbed it and ran, until falling in the spider tunnels and sinking through the stone. They were once Azothinne’s tunnels, but Nessie said that she had convinced the giant spider to relocate elsewhere. Why was that? Maybe it was the spider who had taken down Ceth’na… because of the orb perhaps?

She sighed —nothing but speculation. Too bad there hadn’t been more memories lurking within the necklace. Nessie had seemed so horrified when she realised that the memories hadn’t been scrubbed after the so-called ‘cleansing’… there had to be something in there that she hadn’t wanted known. Unless it was just her betrayal at the end.

The tiny moths danced and spun through the air, fluttering their little wings as they hopped to and fro in a perfect insectazoid conga-line. Had the pixie had fun with the little bugs —dancing with them in and out of the grasses and flowers? Was she now back in the tavern telling all the other pixies about her little adventure? How she had pulled the hairs from the heads of two humans, and neither of them were drunk. She would be a golden hero; the new leader of the pixie peoples, destined to lead them all to new heights of golden-arsed shenanigans!

Katéa smirked to herself, though her smile lessened as her thoughts twisted and turned about one another and transformed into a startling image. Nessie had been the only pureblooded elf left, probably also destined to lead her people to new heights, but she had failed… or had she? The souls of dead elves lived on in that orb, and she could control Serenithyl’s beasts. What if the rite that the orb-wearer had not expected, was actually a rite to make the orb —the sphere— more powerful. What if, the beasts she controlled once were elves? But what did that make Serenithyl?

The sky shuddered overhead, as though outside forces were aware of her thoughts and were telling her to shut up before they cracked the place in half, and then her skull. Nothing would surprise her any more. Fluffy white clouds shook as the flakes in a snow-globe, drenching the blue sky in endless streaks, and she did not flinch as a hand fell onto her shoulder. She almost expected it.

“Father is with the other Masters; this is up to us.”

Draven offered his arm and helped her to her feet, and then whisked them both away into the cavern with its blue buzzing light, slowly bulging with black shapes.

“Perfect,” she smiled. “While we’re connected, I have some images to show you.”

 


(An Unfortunate Adventure header made by me! Courtesy of an image from Pixabay, and images from Vidar Nordli-Mathisen, Johny Goerend, Alan Labisch, Erol Ahmed on Unsplash!)