forum "Wait, you... you're... magic?" "Darling, what do you think?" (Fantasy o/o Closed)

Started February 01, 2022 by @emilyevewrites group

tune

"Yes." Shade says. She doesn't bother hiding the truth: it is unlikely they will go back to that place.

Saul swallowed. "There's no chance he's alive?"

Shade shakes her head sadly. "Going auracritical… it destroys your soul, and any trace of you in the world. There's no chance he survived. I'm sorry."

Saul nodded. "Who did this to him?" His voice was cold and demanding.

"We don't know." Farah's voice came from behind Shade as she and Brucie climbed down from the tree. "But it wasn't any of us."

Shade jumps slightly. And then she nods in agreement.

"I promise, we will figure this out. We'll need to." she murmurs, grasping Farah's hand tightly.

Farah nodded and squeezed Shade's hand to reassured her.

Saul noted the action. "What's going on with you two?" he asked, needing to talk about something other than his brother.

Shade laughs. "Do we want to tell him? Or just let him suffer through not knowing?"

Farah grinned and did the honors of lowering her lips onto Shade's.

Shade gasps, then leans into the kiss. When she finally pulls away, she's smiling.

"That answer your question, Saul?" she laughs.

Saul's eyes were wide. "Uh, y-yes…"

Shade laughs harder at Saul's face. "Priceless! Absolutely priceless!"

She leans against Farah gently. "Anyways, we need to wait. Probably for a while. In that time, we need to find normalcy."

Farah grinned and slipped an arm around Shade's waist. "Indeed. Brucie, do you know anywhere we can go?" she asked the spirits, who were all inter-dimensional already.

Suddenly, a strong wind whipped up around them, pushing everyone off balance.

Shade looks around, the aura vision overlaying her own quickly.

"Who's there?" she calls.

Farah held Shade tightly against her. "This isn't me," she whispered.

Just as suddenly as it started, the wind stopped. Migina materialized before them, hugging herself and crying. "Farah…"

The fae was quickly at her side. "Migina? What–"

Migina sobbed and flung her arms around Farah. "I thought you were dead!" the spirit cried.

Shade sighs. Just Migina. she says, moments before the wind spirit materializes. She steps back, watching.

"We technically should have been killed. But we weren't." she says.

Migina continued to sob against Farah. She rubbed the spirit's back calmingly. "It's alright," she whispered. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Eventually, the spirit calmed down enough to talk. "Wh-What do you mean, you sh-should've been killed?" she asked shakily, looking at Shade with wide, teary blue eyes.

Shade looks at Migina with an intensity that has rarely been used. "The explosion that wiped everything out was from Saul's brother. We only barely made it out alive, and into this world."

Migina's eyes were terrified. "This is another world?" she asked quietly, her eyes darting to Brucie.

"Yes, young one," Brucie said with a kind wink. She looked at Shade and murmured. "Younger spirits are less aware of the natural instincts of our powers. Our auras take over in dangerous situations to keep us safe."

Shade nods. "I got myself, Farah and Saul here."

"And how did you do it?" Brucie asked quietly.

Shade shrugs. "I dunno. As I said earlier, I kinda just… made my own door."

To prove this, she goes to a spot, then steps through. She reappears a moment later, carrying an armfull of dry twigs.

Brucie's eyes widened. "We need to figure out what kind of being you are, pumpkin…"

Shade snorts. "No shit, Brucie."

She sighs, then quickly builds a fire, lighting it with a burst of fire magic. I seem to be a natural at controlling magic, which is concerning. she tells Farah.

Farah reached out and gripped Shade's wrist. "You need to stop using my magic," she muttered. "No more. Not until I've taught you how to use it without consequences, do you understand?"

Shade looks over. "I know what I'm doing."

She turns back to the fire, watching scenes from her past play out: her being tossed into the gutter by a group of boys, being beaten, begging for the release of death. She drifts into her memories, brooding. Unconsciously, her fingers move and weave a small tapestry in the air.