Private Tales The Price of Defiance

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Sadie

Thing of Nightmares
Fae Courts
Messages
88
Character Biography
Link
Where did you go?
I’m left here alone.
Why am I alone?
I’ve lost everyone.
Am I to blame?
My thoughts are clouded.
Will the nightmares end soon?
I just want to disappear.
I am tired of the loneliness.
I miss you, but I have lost myself.
I have never felt so lost…
Can I still be saved?
My hope is fading.
I am tired. It is okay.

For several centuries, Sadie had lived in her sort-of-adoptive tribe of Sindarin Fae, though she had never been anything less than an outsider. The Sindarin, and all púcas for that matter, viewed women as little more than an incubator for sons and servants to keep their husbands or, if they were fortunate, mates happy. Her old tribe had even promised her to a young male when she was only twelve years of age. She did not know if it was a blessing or a curse that she had been whisked away from the village all those years ago.

Few stated this to her face, but the Fae of the tribe she had been taken into seemed to view her with a mixture of pity, suspicion, and disdain. Her lack of social skills and appearance- haunted and lost- have exempted her from such pressure, but not the judgment of being an unmated, unmarried female.

It seemed to not bother her all too much. Sadie was quite content to be exempt from the expectations that once weighed her down as a child. She hadn’t even known why the others in the village rarely acknowledged her existence. Her behavior was strange, her mind too distant to be of any use. The Fae did not just believe her to be an antisocial, awkward, lost girl. They thought she was cursed from the day a small army of guards landed with the tiny winged girl, hair wild full of twigs and leaves and feet frostbitten and bloody, in their arms. Even then, she seemed so abnormal. Her eyes glowed luminous purple, never quite focused on anything tangible. Her dragon scaled wings, though similar to the rest of the Sindarin Fae, seemed to be coated in an oily iridescent sheen.

Centuries spent working odd jobs to keep a roof over her head, and still the locals remained wary at best.

Cursed, bringer of ill omens. She left a chill in her wake, like a shadow of ice that left everyone feeling on edge.

The village seemed to stand still. Tucked away in the dense woods within the Winter Court lands, the Sindarin Fae were scattered about. Ryanore was known for being one of the largest tribes there and behaved like a small city. Homes were made of stone, roofs of thatch or sometimes tiles in the homes of Fae who had lived there since its founding. To outsiders, it was a haven for the Fae, a place where fires never died and magic thrived. To Sadie, it was a cage of whispers and shadows.

She sat on the edge of a wooden bench near the village’s square, knees drawn to her chest while she listened to the bustling sounds of the locals who avoided her like a plague. The evening sun was setting finally, painting the sky in shades of gold and red that matched the leaves. It warmed her wings, making their oily sheen more pronounced, dripping with iridescent colors.

Wind stirred, a cold gust chilling her sun-warmed skin. Her hair brushed against her face in loose, unkempt waves that didn’t seem to disturb her lack of focus. She had been sitting there for hours. Alone.

She could feel eyes on her- watching, always watching. Even after hundreds of years, they still treated her like an enigma. A haunted little girl who arrived and never made it out of her shell. She had grown older, but still looked like the lost and broken child delivered to their tribe after the tragedy which befell her own small tribe.

The whispers grew louder over time, the Fae finding it unnecessary to hide their voices when they wondered about her. When they spoke of the way shadows clung to her, even on the brightest of days. Men and elderly women, most of all, enjoyed reminding each other that she was not vibrant and full of life like the other women.

“Cursed.” One woman had said to her grandson, a boy no older than she was when she first arrived. “Haunted. Poor thing. Do you see how she reaches for the light, and yet she only ever grasps at the shadows.”

Sadie had heard the worst of it, but never reacted. She couldn’t care. She never did.

Glowing purple eyes stared blankly ahead as children splashed in a fountain. A shadow flickered in the corner of her eye and for a moment she tensed, holding her breath as her heart skipped a beat. But it was nothing, just a bird in the trees. That was what she told herself these days.

A shout- many shouts- broke her reverie, pulling her from the trance. Sadie blinked, heart racing at the sudden commotion. A group of villagers had gathered nearby, a flurry of wings and heated words were exchanged between them and him.

Her stomach twisted. She did not know what the argument was about this time, but the tension was palpable. Villagers were turning against the male, a foreigner she had never known to be part of this village or tribe. It was certainly not the first time it had happened. It seemed they rather enjoyed isolating and expelling those who were unlike the majority. No one trusted too deeply, not even in a safe haven like this.

Sadie rose from the bench, hands trembling, and walked towards the group. The group parted, afraid of being touched by the cursed girl. Their eyes shifted from the girl to the angry male, curiosity filling them as she approached. And then, she continued.

Work would begin as the sun settled below the horizon and her walk was a long one.



Sadie preferred the nights. Darkness was familiar, a comforting veil in a way that daylight never was to her. Room to room, she moved silently through the shadows of the scholar’s study. Only a lone flame filled the silence. If her job did not require vision, she would have put the flame out and enjoyed the darkness.

The scent of old parchment and tomes bound in aged leather filled the spacious study, a balm to her restless soul. In the solitude of her work, she could almost forget the whispers and fear that followed her like a shadow.

She was employed by a scholar named Eluin. Eluin was as reclusive as Sadie was. He rarely spoke to her directly, preferring to leave her daily instructions scrawled on a torn piece of parchment from his notebook. Today’s note already lay on the old chipped maple desk when she arrived:

Sadie,
Handle the preservation of scrolls delivered this morning. They are fragile. Keep out of direct light and minimize their exposure to the elements. Finish transcribing the text from yesterday.
-E

His notes were always simple and very impersonal. He never asked how she was or if she needed something. Sadie, oddly, appreciated the relationship...or lack therof. She disliked unnecessary conversation. Words had been a difficulty for…ever, she supposed. They were too easily misinterpreted and too dangerous. Her silence was easy, it was safe.

She tucked the note away and pulled on the gloves he had gifted her a hundred or so years ago while she prepared to begin. Sadie was grateful for Eluin. He had been the only one kind enough to offer a permanent job in the village. Though it wasn’t much, only a few hours per night, it paid enough for her to rent the smallest room at the edge of the village. And she was his only employee, so she could work without judging eyes and whispers of curses.

Sadie unloaded the box, laying ancient scrolls neatly on the table before her. Each one was delicately rolled, sealed shut with faded ribbons. Carefully, she released them from their binding and gently unfurled the first of five scrolls. Faded, faint lines of script were revealed- a language long forgotten by most. A language Eluin had given her books on early in her employment. It was not a kind gesture, not a gift. It was an order for her to learn so that she might perform her job well enough to remain his employee. She stared at the symbols, tracing them in the air before writing down, in a journal that was falling apart at the binding, what the scroll said in the common tongue.

She preserved the scrolls after transcribing the materials, painting them with a mixture Eluin had crafted himself. It was a quiet rhythm she had, repetitive and meticulous that gave her a sense of control.

Hours blurred into one another, time passing easily as she completed one task and then the next. She liked this kind of work. It was a job where her mind could wander and she had no need to explain herself or the trail of thoughts. She simply followed ancient lines, letting her hands work while her mind drifted to the shadows.

Her mind often drifted to those shadows that followed her. The ones that whispered to her in voices no one else could hear, whispers of a past she did not understand. She saw them dancing in the corners of her vision often, but refused to acknowledge them until she was completely and utterly alone. She was not afraid of monsters- at least not the ones that were visible, like great wolves and bears and the mireclaws of the swamps. She was afraid of the fragments that came to her in unexpected flickers.

She dipped her quill into the ink, transcribing another line as her mind wandered to thoughts of the village, burning the faces of her tribe into her memory. The way they looked at her, with suspicion in every glance- those who were brave enough to stare. She knew they feared her or pitied her, perhaps both. It hadn’t mattered that hundreds of years passed since the night she became one of them. In their eyes, she was just a girl who survived something that no one should have, a girl who carried the gloom of the shadows everywhere she went.

A sudden sound broke the stillness of her work- soft creaking from the hallway outside the study. Sadie froze, her quill poised above the page, droplets of ink splashing the parchment below. She held her breath, listening intently.

Footsteps. Slow. Deliberate. Moving closer.

Her stomach twisted. Eluin almost never came down during her shifts, preferring to keep to his own chambers either working on his private studies or, better yet, sleeping while she worked. His letters were their only form of communications and even those were brief. He had never checked in on her unannounced and she was ill prepared for the conversation.

The footsteps stopped just beyond the door.

Silence. It pressed down on her, threatening to suffocate her until she released the breath she held. For a moment, she wondered if it was her imagination, the shadows playing a trick on her. But the door creaked open and a dark figure stepped inside.

Not Eluin.

Not Eluin.
 
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The study’s air grew heavier, the warm scent of old parchment now tinged with a creeping chill as the door creaked open. Shadows twisted unnaturally in the corners of the room, stretching like liquid darkness in response to his presence. The figure who entered did so with deliberate, unhurried steps, the kind of pace that demanded attention without asking. Nikolai stood framed in the doorway, his silhouette sharp against the dim glow of the lone flame.

“Working late, little bird?” His voice was low, smooth, and carried the faintest lilt of amusement. Violet eyes, glowing faintly like embers in the dark, scanned the study until they landed on her. For a moment, he said nothing more, allowing the tension to settle like a shroud.

Nikolai tilted his head slightly, a predatory glint in his gaze. “Don’t stop on my account,” he added, stepping further into the room. His boots were silent against the floor, but the room seemed to echo with his arrival.

She would likely have recognised him as the male who had caused the commotion in the square earlier—the foreigner whose heated argument had drawn the attention of half the village. She hadn’t lingered long to watch the outcome, but his eyes had been on her ever since. Watching, waiting.

He had been tailing her all day, expecting her to lead him to whatever evidence had brought him to this dull little village. Instead, she had led him to...this. A cramped study, cluttered with scrolls and books. A scene so mundane it was almost laughable. Yet the girl herself—the haunted expression, the strange aura, the shadows that clung to her like a second skin—was anything but ordinary. She was a puzzle, and Nikolai loved puzzles.

He took another step forward, his movement fluid as a shadow unfurling in the flickering light. “I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting this,” he murmured, gesturing vaguely at the scrolls and ink-stained parchment before her. “Is this how you pass your nights, hm? Hiding in this little tomb of yours, scribbling away while the world forgets you exist?”

His lips curled into a smirk, sharp canines flashing briefly. “But I haven’t forgotten, have I?”

He watched her carefully, searching for any flicker of recognition or defiance, and he chuckled softly, the sound low and dark.

“You’re quite the enigma, aren’t you?” he mused. His gaze drifted to her wings, catching the faint, oily iridescence glimmering in the firelight. He was closer now, leaning casually against the edge of the desk. The shadows in the room seemed to shift and sway with him, curling around his form like they recognized him as their kin.

“I wonder,” he said, voice dropping into a near whisper as his piercing eyes locked onto hers, “what secrets you’re hiding in here..”

The shadows in the room pulsed faintly, and Nikolai straightened, his tone taking on an edge of command. “You’re going to show me.”
 
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Reactions: Sadie
Working late, little bird?

Pulse quickening, Sadie froze at the smooth drawl that sent a shiver down her spine. He was tall, frame casting an imposing shadow that seemed to move on its own, stretching across the old wooden floor in the faint light. She could feel his glowing violet eyes raking over her as he took another step inside. Sadie stepped backward, away from him, but the shadows in the room seemed to encompass her, locking her in a cage for him to play with.

"I- I was just finishing." It wasn't the truth by any means. Work had barely started and it was nowhere near sunrise. "If you need something, y-you will have to come when Eluin is available. And that is by appointment only." Her reply grew steadier towards the end, when she could turn her fear into practicality.

She swiped the unassuming little black journal from her desk and shoved it in her bag, leaving the scrolls on her desk. Thinking of a plan, she decided she would procrastinate on her work just a little more and tell Eluin there had been a late night visitor that frightened her. Eluin might keep her at an arm's length, but she knew he wouldn't punish her for ensuring her own safety. This man, she had realized, was a stranger, but a face she had seen.

The man from the argument in the village square.

Her features seemed to pale, hand swiping at the invisible shadow that she felt caress her face. She had barely lingered during the heated shouts of the other villagers. She hadn't even known what they were arguing about. Had he somehow thought she played some role in that? Were the villagers okay? Was she next on his list of grievances?

She took three more steps backward, bumping into a wooden chair that forced her to remain in place. "You haven't...forgotten? If this is about the scene in the village, I wasn't watching it. I wasn't even a part of it. I was only passing through." She scrambled to choose her words carefully as he closed the distance with much less fervor than she.

Her wings pulled in closer when she felt his gaze searching for something. The study was suffocating with him inside, yet she couldn't force herself to move and flee to safety. Something held her in place, forcing her eyes to meet his. The room pulsed with energy, a chill spreading through her body.

"N-no secrets. I transcribe texts." She stuttered. "Please, I don't mean any trouble. I was just doing my work."
 
Nikolai’s lips curled into a faint, almost mocking smile as he came to a halt, his towering frame just inches from her. His presence was suffocating, the faint hum of energy emanating from him no doubt thrumming against her skin like a second heartbeat. One of his hands rested lazily at his side, while the other trailed along the edge of her desk, brushing against the scrolls she had left behind. The slight rasp of parchment against his fingers seemed unnaturally loud in the heavy silence.

He let out a sharp laugh under his breath as she mentioned the villagers, as though they were of such insignifigance to him. His head shook slowly..

Little bird,” he murmured, the nickname dripping with both amusement and disdain, his voice a silken purr. “Such a busy little thing, flitting here and there, gathering your secrets.”

He tilted his head, those glowing violet eyes never leaving her, their intensity like a blade pressing just shy of her throat. His shadow shifted again, reaching toward her like living tendrils, curling over the chair she was trapped against.

“You're hiding something.” The accusation was soft, almost playful, but the weight behind it was crushing. He leaned forward slightly, just enough that his presence eclipsed what little light the room had left. “I have been watching you. All day. And I know you have something... or know something.” His gaze flicked briefly to the bag she clutched so tightly, the edges of his smile sharpening.

“You don’t really think you can run, do you?” His voice lowered, the playful edge giving way to something darker, more dangerous. “Not from me. Not from this.” He straightened, his shadow receding ever so slightly, giving her the smallest reprieve before he stepped closer again, just enough to invade the fragile barrier of air between them. "I suppose, I can let you try. That might be fun, for a while." his head tilted.

“You see, I do rather enjoy games, little bird.” His tone was colder now, a sharp contrast to the earlier mockery. “But I so hate having my time wasted. So tell me...” He reached out, a single finger brushing under her chin to tilt her face up toward him, his touch feather-light but unbearably cold. “What is it you’re hiding? Or shall I search for it myself?”

His smile returned, but this time it was all teeth—sharp and gleaming, predatory and merciless. “You’d do well to answer me quickly, before I lose my patience.”
 
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Sadie flinched when the man looming over her laughed, even the sound was as accusatory as his words. There was no further back she could retreat, unless she wished to stand on top of the chair his shadows now snaked around, ready to catch her if she dared to do so.

"I am not hiding anything!" Her chest tightened, breaths quick and shallow. Breathe. A voice in her head rang through. She shook her head, refusing to look at him anymore. "I don't know what you are talking about, sir." She insisted, her trembling voice growing more frantic with each word.

The room seemed to darken as he leaned over her and Sadie fell backward, gripping the arms of the chair until her knuckles turned white. Her eyes darted to the writhing shadows around her, desperate to find an answer, a sense of control in the chaos quickly surrounding her. But there was nothing-no escape, no reprieve. She heard no whispers from the shadows for once. And like their master, they seemed to offer her no mercy.

"I swear! I don't know anything!" She tried to shout, tried to alert Eluin so that he might be able to save her and toss this lunatic out on the street where he belongs. But, as she expected, it would be to no avail. She heard nothing, not even the soft creaking of the floor she could hear when he rolled over in bed sometimes. Something was dampening the noise in this room, keeping it confined to just them.

Sadie's gaze snapped to the floor, her words catching in her throat. "P-please." She could feel his presence pushing down on her, shadows suffocating and unrelenting. The pressure dissipated for only a moment, offering her the idea of running, before crashing back down on her. "I don't know what you thought you saw, but I haven't got what you're looking for. I f-fear you've wasted your time here. You won't find anything unless you're looking for old or half-destroyed texts-"

She let out a sharp exhale, his fingers colder than the dead of winter when he tilted her face. Then, she saw them- his teeth. Sharpened to a dangerous point, she realized. By nature or his own action? They were far too sharp for a fae, and sharper than most animals she had seen. Her heart raced and her features shifted, fear replaced by the haunted look she wore most every day, the one the villagers whispered of. Pitying her, mocking her.

Words repeated over and over in her head: Keep quiet. Breathe. Survive.
 
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Nikolai’s laugh rumbled low in his chest, sharp and resonant, a blade cutting through the heavy silence. He leaned in closer, the faint glow of his violet eyes catching the fear etched into her features. It was exquisite. Every stuttered word, every tremble of her lips, every erratic breath—he drank it in like the finest wine.

“Fear suits you, little bird,” he murmured, savouring the way her flinch rippled through her body. His voice was smooth and unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to peel her apart piece by delicate piece. The nickname, chosen with care, rolled off his tongue with a cruel affection, as though her terror was something precious to him.

Her frantic words, her pleading, were music to his ears. He tilted his head, watching the way her hands gripped the chair, the bloodless knuckles trembling under the strain. The sharp scent of her panic, the intoxicating pulse of her rapid heartbeat—he could practically taste it. His mouth watered, hunger gnawing at him.

“Old, half-destroyed texts?” he repeated, his tone deceptively light, as though he were humouring her. “Exactly what I came for. How thoughtful of you to prepare them for me.” He shifted closer still, his looming figure casting her deeper into shadow. His fingers, icy and impossibly steady, grazed her jawline, commanding her attention back to him.

“Look at me,” he demanded softly, a command laced with menace. His violet eyes burned into hers, the room darkening further as though the shadows themselves obeyed him. His lips curled into a malicious smile, sharp teeth glinting faintly.

“You smell... wonderful.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, but it carried through the suffocating air like thunder. He leaned in just enough for her to feel the ghost of his breath, cold and unnatural, brushing against her skin. “Do you know what fear tastes like, little bird? What pain tastes like?”

His smile widened, predatory and gleeful. “I could show you.”

For a moment, he lingered there, savouring her panic, letting it wash over him like a feast. But then his gaze flicked to the bag clutched desperately in her lap. “Now, why don’t you make this easy on yourself and hand me that little book you’re hiding? Hmm?”

His tone softened again, mockingly sweet, but the glint in his eyes promised no kindness. “It’s not as if you have much choice, now, do you?”
 
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"Stop calling me that." Sadie sank deeper into the chair, wood biting into her wings as she tried to shrink away. His presence was suffocating, continuing to press down on her the closer he hovered. Shadows coiled around both now like living creatures, obeying his silent commend. She swore she could feel their touch on her ankle, cold as his finger that grazed her jaw.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she tried to calm herself, failing entirely. "You cannot touch them." She gasped for a breath in her panic. "Eluin would kill me if any of his research was destroyed." She knew he wouldn't really harm her. Let her go from employment, maybe, but she couldn't blame him. He had spent well over five centuries compiling scrolls, tomes, and artifacts. She had barely made a dent in his findings, but it was imperative that it all be preserved outside of the original material for the texts were fading and many artifacts had crumbled to nothing but dust.

A cold rush of fear washed over her when he tried once more to focus her attention on him. Her eyes, glowing purple, met his. Yet, there was something distant about them. It seemed as though she weren't all there.

But she reacted, lip quivering, the moment his freezing breath spread over her skin.

I could show you...

"Please-" The word slipped from her mouth before she could stop herself, a desperate plea that only seemed to feed him more. "Please don't hurt me. I am not hiding anything. Please. They are only books and papers and drawings." She clutched the bag tighter to herself.

His eyes bore into her, burning cold and unrelenting. The room felt heavier the longer she made him wait. Sadie's finger brushed against the strap, but she hesitated, her eyes shifting from his face to something behind him. Something only she could see so clearly. For a few moments, she seemed transfixed on whatever it was, and then she turned her eyes back to him.

With a trembling hand, Sadie reached into the bag and presented to Nikolai one of two small, black journals. It was identical to the one she had swiped into the bag, however, If he chose to open it, he would find nonsensical ramblings and drawings of nightmarish creatures. It was similar enough to Eluin's latest scrolls, writings of fae turned into blood-drinking monsters, but these creations were all of Sadie's own memories.
 
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Nikolai chuckled at her words, the sound soft but laced with chilling amusement, rather enjoying the audacity of her defiance as she commanded him to stop calling her . “But it suits you so well. Little bird, trapped in your cage, fluttering about in a panic. You should be thanking me for noticing you at all.”

His smirk deepened as she clung to her pathetic sense of duty, denying him the documents he wanted. Stepping closer, his shadows tightening around her chair. “Is that what you think?” The journal hung loose in his hand, but his attention was squarely on her now, his gaze sharp enough to cut.

When she gasped out that Eluin would kill her, Nikolai tilted his head, eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. “Ah, darlin’,” he drawled, leaning down to bring his face close to hers, his breath icy against her skin. “I can do so much worse.”

He straightened abruptly, thumbing through the journal with casual interest, though the tension in the room didn’t ease. The grotesque drawings held his attention for a moment, and his lips twitched into something almost like admiration. “You have quite the imagination,” he said softly, though the words carried no warmth. His gaze flicked to her, watching her squirm.

Still, he didn’t move to leave. Instead, he closed the journal with a sharp snap, tucking it into his coat pocket as his expression darkened. “But this isn’t what I came for.” His voice dropped, low and dangerous, his patience thinning. “You’re trying to stall me, little bird, and I don’t have the time to humour your games.”

The room darkened further as the shadows seemed to ripple and hiss in agitation. “I’m losing my patience,” he sighed, his tone venomous now. His hand rose slowly, and with a flick of his fingers, a flame sparked to life, licking hungrily at his skin as though eager to devour. The light danced in his violet eyes, making them seem even more malevolent.

“I’d hate to burn the entire place down,” he murmured, the flames growing brighter as they curled around his palm. “But if you refuse to comply...” He shrugged one shoulder, the motion almost lazy, though the threat was unmistakable. “Well, accidents happen.”

The flames cast long, flickering shadows over the room, the heat brushing against Sadie’s face. Nikolai leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, cold and cutting. “You know exactly what I’m looking for. So last chance to tell me, little bird. Where are they?”
 
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Sadie watched as Nikolai's pale fingers flipped through the journal- her journal, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be savoring her growing unease, as if he was using the time to force her to confess whatever she was hiding. When his eyes flicked back up to her, she held his stare. A standoff between the predator who was toying with his helpless prey.

Her mouth opened, maybe to beg, but before she could speak he had snapped the book shut and tucked it away in his coat. His gaze darkened, voice lowered, and the shadow filled air grew heavier.

I'm losing my patience.

She flinched at the sight of fire, watching it flicker to life and dance at his fingertips. It was small, but in a room of ancient, flammable, parchments and books, it was terrifying. The fire mingled with the shadows, casting jagged shapes across the walls that seemed to come to life. Sadie's mouth went dry, mouthing the word "please" in response to his suggestion that accidents happen. No, not a suggestion, a threat.

One misplaced spark and the entire archive would go up in flames. Centuries of knowledge, if not longer, would be gone forever. Eluin's life's work, destroyed.

Her heartbeat roared in her ears, her pulse so loud she was sure that even he could hear it. She tried to think of another way out of this, her mind racing, but his glowing violet stare had her pinned in place. She had no choice.

"Fine!" She snapped, tears welling up in her eyes as she reached one trembling hand back into her bag, pulling out the real journal. The one filled with neatly written, yet incomplete, accounts, symbols, maps, and drawings. The one he was here for. She hesitated, gripping tightly on its black leather cover as she met his gaze, her fear morphing into desperation to keep Eluin and his work safe.

"Take it," She shoved the journal toward him. "Take it, take the scrolls, and leave! But when Eluin kills me for this, and he will, I hope you can live with that on your conscience." She clenched her teeth, the next few words slipped out before she could stop them, "Though I doubt you have one anyway, asshole."
 
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Nikolai's lips curled into a slow, wicked grin as Sadie finally broke the silence. The sharp snap of her voice—Fine!—and the tears shimmering in her eyes delighted him, though he made no move to show it beyond the gleam in his violet gaze. He let her squirm, savouring her desperation as she fumbled with her bag.

When she finally thrust it toward him, he extinguished the flame in his hand with a casual flick of his wrist, the heat in the room replaced by a suffocating cold. He snatched the journal from her trembling fingers, his movements sharp but elegant, the predatory grace of a hunter finally claiming his prize.

“Good girl,” he growled, the low rumble of his voice both mocking and approving. The shadows that had coiled so tightly around her chair began to loosen, though they remained ever-present, watching. He held the journal up, its black leather cover catching the faint light, and flipped it open. His pale fingers traced the edges of the pages, his expression darkening as he skimmed the meticulously recorded symbols, maps, and drawings.

His gaze snapped back to her, his interest razor-sharp, cutting through the air between them. He tucked the journal beneath his arm, but the weight of his attention didn’t lift.

“About this", he said as he lifted the first journal she'd given him, his voice deceptively soft, though the amusement in it was clear. He leaned closer, his smirk returning as he towered over her. “Where did you get it? Did you draw these things?”

He didn’t wait for her to answer, his cold amusement deepening. “They’re remarkably .. creative..” He tapped a finger against his temple, his tone dripping with mockery. “Think them up all on your own?”

Her muttered insult broke through his monologue, a whisper of defiance amidst her fear. Nikolai paused, tilting his head like a wolf assessing an unexpected threat. Then, he laughed—a rich, dark sound that filled the room.

“Asshole?” he echoed, his grin stretching wider as he straightened. “Oh, little bird, that’s almost endearing. But you’ll have to try harder than that if you want to insult me.”

He tucked the real journal into his coat, his posture radiating satisfaction. Yet, instead of turning to leave, he lingered, his eyes narrowing slightly.. “You’re far more interesting than I expected, and I’d hate to let such a... curiosity go to waste.”
 
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Good girl?

Sadie hadn't realized how warm the room had been until the cold began to creep through her bones, fingertips going numb, her flushed face turning white. She stared at him, breaths uneven, her heart pounding in her chest. Her hands had been clenched in fists now at her sides, nails digging into her skin- almost enough to draw blood. The bastard was robbing her and still had the audacity to question what the hell he was stealing.

And worse, he had laughed at her insults.

"What do you mean 'where did you get it'?" Her eyebrows drew closer together in frustration. He had what he wanted, and still he refused to leave. Refused to take his prize and bring it to whatever fence would be stupid enough to buy some worthless-to-anyone-but-Eluin stolen goods.

Sadie's hand shot out to grab the book from his hand, intent on returning it to her bag. Tried, and failed as it was just out of reach. "I got the leather bound journals from Eluin." She danced around the question for a moment. "So that I might put the words from his ancient scrolls into something portable and less fragile."

Her shoulders curled in on themselves, her wings dipping slightly. "Everything in the journals was written by me or drawn by me, yes. That is my job. As I've said..." She did not deny the accusation, she couldn't lie to him. But she refused to admit that one journal was of some historical or fictional significance to Eluin.

And the other was simply the ramblings of the Madwoman of Ryanore.

She watched him tuck the journal away, her stomach dropping when she realized how fucked she was when Eluin realized months of work were just gone. Scowling back up at him, she responded. "Stop calling me that. I am not a little bird. I am not a good girl. I am not a curiosity. You have broken into Eluin's workshop and you have stolen from me. Are you waiting for guards to come arrest you or are you here to make my day even worse? Get OUT!" She demanded, stomping her foot.
 
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Nikolai’s grin widened as the stroppy little female stomped her foot, her defiance igniting his amusement and piquing his curiosity yet further. It was rare for anyone to meet his gaze with such fire, let alone someone so clearly terrified. She was a contradiction—a trembling bird pretending to be a wolf—and it fascinated him.

'I'm not a little bird..'

Perhaps not..

'I'm not a good girl.'

His laugh was a dark and smoky thing. “Oh, aren’t you?” he mused, his voice dripping with mockery as his grin revealed a hint of sharp canine. "Well that's going to be a problem."

But then she was shouting, her voice rising like a storm, and Nikolai winced, one hand brushing at his ear as if to ward off the noise. His patience, thin as it already was, finally snapped.

The room darkened in an instant, shadows spilling from the corners like ink, swallowing the shelves and ancient texts until there was nothing but the two of them. The oppressive weight of his presence filled the space, and before she could take another breath, he closed the distance between them until there was only an inch of static space.

His hand shot out, cold fingers wrapping loosely around her throat. The movement was swift and startling, designed to silence, to command, but not to harm. His grip was light enough to allow her to breathe, though the chill of his skin would seep into hers, a cruel reminder of his control.

“I will leave when I choose to leave,” he said, his voice low and venomous, the humour from moments before gone entirely. His violet eyes burned into hers, their unnatural glow the only light in the suffocating darkness. “And no sooner.”

The faint scent of smoke and shadows clung to him, and his presence seemed to press against her, heavy and unrelenting.

“Now,” he hissed, each word a deliberate command. “Will you lower. Your. Voice.”

His grip shifted slightly, enough to force her attention entirely on him. “I can hear you just fine,” he continued, “And unless you want everyone else to hear you too, I suggest you stop screaming at me.”

The shadows writhed around them, restless and alive, and Nikolai let the weight of his threat linger. Then, after a beat, his lips quirked into a faint smirk, the cruel amusement creeping back into his expression.

“Now,” he said, his tone softening but no less dangerous, “why don’t you tell me where those ancient scrolls you mentioned, are hiding? Because if you think this little temper tantrum of yours is going to scare me off…” He chuckled, the sound low and menacing. “Well, you might need to adjust your expectations.”
 
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Ice closed around her neck, firm but not crushing her screaming throat. Sadie stilled as he leaned closer, eyes locked onto his as his hand wrapped around her neck, cutting her voice off mid-shout. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, heartbeat fluttering uncontrollably. Her body shook from anger. Trembled from fear as the room darkened until there was nothing except her and the man of shadow and ice silencing her.

The crease between her brows deepened as he was able to speak. But he was sorely mistaken if he thought she didn’t want to wake up the entire village. That had been exactly her plan. She was looked upon like a curiosity, a cursed object that had grown to be a part of them all. Though they avoided her, no one had dared to be outright hostile to her face. This man, however…She had seen the heated debate in the square. The hatred in their eyes burned brighter for him than the sorrow ever did for her.

Her hands flew up instinctively the moment he let go, a gasp for air followed. Sadie glared at the monster, her fear giving way to fury. He smirked and she thought for a moment that she would make the mistake of fighting back. Sadie was not a violent girl whatsoever, but there was little more she wanted to do than to punch his pretty little pointy teeth down his throat. A voice inside her head, however, warned her that it would be a grave mistake.

That same voice spoke again quietly.

Listen to him. Give him what he has asked for.

The thought, rather the consequences did not thrill her, but she would give in.

“I was never hiding the scrolls.” She finally broke her silence, voice set to completely reasonable level. “The ones from the journal is what you’re referring to, correct? All five are on the desk.”

Sadie pointed a shaky finger over to where all five sat.

“Though, the story is far from complete. Those are simply some letters of correspondence between two people. Boring stuff.” She took a brave step away from him to snatch one of the scrolls and unravel it enough for him to see how bare it was. “Especially boring if you cannot read the ancient language.”

Sadie held it out a moment longer before carefully rolling it back up. “Fortunately Eluin has taught me some of the basics. Enough to transcribe a simple back-and-forth argument about some texts that had been thought to be destroyed, but were most likely lost along the way.” She shrugged. “Unfortunately it is a dead end after that. Eluin has been searching for the book, but even the title had no direct translation to Common Fae.”

She had provided more than enough information for the stranger and chose not to share that there had been another scroll somewhere, mentioning a hidden trove of books including the elusive Vaeliryn Duskhar.
 
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Nikolai watched her in silence, the smirk lingering at the edges of his lips as if he now found her compliance amusing. And she said she wasn't a good girl, he mused to himself, but decided against pushing her further. His violet eyes gleamed in the dim light, unreadable yet full of something sharp—something dangerous. He tilted his head slightly, like a wolf assessing whether its prey was worth chasing.

"Boring?" he echoed, his voice smooth, velvety, laced with mockery. He took a slow, deliberate step toward her, the darkness shifting with him. She could read them? "Is that so?.."

The way she clutched the scroll—how she dared to snatch it up—interested him far more than the words she spoke. He had seen fear before, tasted it in the air like the first snowfall on his tongue, but there was something else beneath her trembling hands. Fury. Defiance.

He reached out, not for the scroll, but for her wrist. A touch, light as frost against her skin, a quiet reminder of how easily he could take whatever he wished. His fingers barely pressed before he pulled away, dragging his gaze down to the parchment she held.

"Fortunately," he mused, mocking her own words, "I do not need your tutor’s lessons." He rumbled as his gaze ran over the words, clearly taking them in. He plucked another of the scrolls from the desk, unrolling it with a lazy flick of his wrist, and then another until he'd read all of them. His eyes traced the ancient glyphs with a practiced ease, his lips curling as he read.

"Dead ends are not always a bad thing." he commented as he set the last scroll back down on the desk, and the pile of them caught fire.
 
  • Stressed
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Sadie's breath caught when his fingers ghosted over her wrist. Burning cold ice. There was ice in her skin, in her bones. Sadie swallowed hard, knuckles turning white as her fingers tightened around the scroll as if it were the final tether to her rapidly shifting sense of control. He found her amusing. He enjoyed knowing that he could and would take whatever her wanted regardless of her protests.

And yet, he didn't take the one in her hands immediately despite her grip loosening.

Heat pooled low in her stomach. No, not from desire, but anger. The slow-growing embers of something vicious clawing at her ribcage, trying to escape. Her pulse only quickened while he scanned the pages, effortlessly reading through texts that had taken her months trying to decipher. He mocked her. The shadows of the room seemed to shift unnaturally, crawling like living things around where there were only two. He mocked the words she had agonized over. Words she and Eluin fought over.

And without so much as a second thought, Nikolai had set them ablaze.

She froze, her heart shattering as flames consumed precious documents. Papers curled into themselves until nothing but ash remained on the table.

It was all gone. Months of work. Thousands of years of history. Gone. Erased by a single flame.

Sadie didn't think before she was moving.

"You bastard." She hissed, her voice shaking. Tears welled up in her eyes. She grabbed his arm, ignoring the ice biting through her flesh, the chill in her veins. It was like plunging into the deepest waters of the ocean, a place where no warmth could reach.

"What have you done?" Her nails bit into his skin. If it was painful, he didn't show it on his face, his violet eyes still glowed. Face unreadable, infuriatingly so. It shattered the last of her restraint. Sadie shoved him as hard as she could, the force a little too strong for it to have only come from her hands. But she didn't want to hurt him. She needed to get out of Eluin's office. She needed to do something before her fury consumed her.

Sadie forced her way past him, her own eyes glowing unnervingly bright. Her face, however, had lost all of the fury. There was no emotion on display, only the pain burning up inside of her. Pain that needed release. She didn't know where she was going-only that she needed to get away now. Away from Nikolai. Away from Eluin. Away from the room where she had now wasted months of her pathetic life.

Her boots left a trail in the damp earth where trees swallowed her whole. The further she ran, the darker the forest grew. Moonlight barely sprinkled through the leaves and the air grew thicker with the scent of rain and something different. Something foul but sweet. Like death. Something was wrong, but she hadn't noticed with her thoughts racing and swirling. Fire and rage twisted and unraveled itself with each step she took. She should have screamed. Eluin would have came to help her.

She should have kept the scrolls hidden.

She should have-

Something slithered low to the ground, hungry.

She didn't hear it.

It curled past the trunk of a tree, predatory, watching.

She didn't see it.

A branch snapped behind her. Somewhere. Too close. Her pace had picked up. Nikolai must have been following her. She wouldn't stop, couldn't stop.

Another whisper. A shifting shadow caught her attention and she tripped over a root on the forest floor. She landed hard, flipping over onto her back when her mind had caught up with her body.

Something was approaching.

The first set of eyes opened. And then another. And another. Stacking too close together to be part of separate animals, they watched her. They followed her.

The creature stepped into the moonlight for only a moment and Sadie froze, color draining from her skin.

It was a monster born of some horrific nightmare. Conjured not by spell, nor by summoning- but by her.

And Sadie had no idea what the fuck had just happened.
 
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Nikolai lingered only long enough to ensure the last embers had devoured the scrolls. The scent of burnt parchment curled in the air, mingling with the crisp bite of frost that always clung to him. There was something satisfying about watching history, his history, reduced to nothing but dust—something almost poetic.

But Sadie… oh, Sadie was far more interesting than old, dead words.

He turned his head slightly, inhaling.

Her scent lingered in the air, impossible to miss. Ink and aged paper, the remnants of candle smoke clinging to her skin. But beneath it, there was something else. Something wild, untamed. The static charge before a storm. A whisper of something ancient, something that did not belong to the world of meek little scribes and their precious tomes. It was this that pulled him forward, curiosity sparking in his veins.

Nikolai followed. Not by the tracks she left in the damp earth, but by the invisible trail she wove through the night, her power, her very blood singing to him as if the very air whispered of her presence. Nikolai flexed his fingers, recalling the sharp sting where her nails had bitten into his skin. A lesser male might have winced. He only smirked.

She had dared to touch him. Not in submission, not in fear—but in fury. The way she had shoved him, raw magic laced through the motion, was… intoxicating. She did not yet know what she was, but he had felt it in that moment, in the heat of her anger, the way it crackled like embers against his cold.

He paused as he felt the shift. It came like the rolling of distant thunder. Magic, thick and unnatural, humming through the earth like an unbidden pulse. His fingers twitched at his sides. It was powerful, whatever it was. For the briefest of moments, something in his chest coiled tight, sharp as a blade. Was She here?

No. This magic was different. It was raw, but it was unrefined and chaotic.

His lips parted, fangs glinting as he took another slow breath. He could taste it in the air—fear, burning hot and acrid. A grin flickered at the edges of his lips, and he stepped forward, into the trees, his violet gaze settling on the thing that had crawled from the depths of Sadie’s mind.

A nightmare.

It slithered toward her, its form grotesque, shifting like something caught between this world and another. Its body was a writhing mass of too many limbs, jagged and wrong, flesh stitched together by shadows that did not belong to it. Its mouth—if it was a mouth—gaped open in a wet, gory sprawl, bristling with teeth of uneven lengths, dripping something black that hissed against the forest floor. And its eyes were far too many,

"Well. Isn't that disturbing." he commented, his voice was silk-soft, laced with amusement as he leaned against a tree, entirely unconcerned by the abomination before them. Shadows moved around him, ready to act at a moment's notice. Beneath his smirk, there was something else. Interest. Because whatever Sadie was… she was far more than she appeared.
 
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Its growl rumbled through the air like thunder and tremored deep beneath the earth. Sadie's palms were bleeding from her impact with the ground, but there was no fear on her face. Her eyes glowed softly as it slithered towards her. It was a disgusting mess of limbs that were twisted and bent and broken. Its many eyes were black as the shadows, catching only the hints of the moonlight. Its body had an oily sheen, not made of scales, but neither fur nor flesh.

Its mouth had split open in a jagged grin with its jaw dislodged. That same oily sheen that covered its body seemed to seep from its mouth. It was salivating over the sight of Sadie who was frozen on the ground. Frozen without fear.

The creature cracked something- its neck, Sadie thought. And then it lunged at her.

"Well. Isn't that disturbing."

Or it would have lunged.

Sadie flinched and threw her arms up over her face, but the beast stopped in its tracks. A new interest piqued its curiosity and its massive head snapped towards the trees where Nikolai taunted it. Its nose flared, taking in the scent of its new target. Its body curled around on itself as it turned, its grin growing.

The nightmare exhaled sharply and the air turned thick. Sadie coughed violently with the sudden inability to breathe. She expected to grab its attention again, expected it to turn back to her and lunge to finish what it had started. But it didn't.

It snarled once more, its full attention on Nikolai. One step towards him, and then a second. A low, guttural, wet growl vibrated through its chest. Had it been contemplating Nikolai? Sadie wondered, but it seemed the beast did not fear Nikolai.

With a deafening screech it broke out into a sprint towards Nikolai and lunged, completely fixated on him. Or was it protecting her?
 
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Nikolai inhaled deeply, letting the scent of blood bloom on his tongue. Copper and salt, thickened with something far richer—power. Not just any power, but the raw, untamed kind that slithered beneath the skin, ancient and reckless, the kind that tasted of old things, dark things, things better left forgotten. His pupils flared, his jaw tightening as something deep inside him stirred. For the briefest moment, he considered the taste of it, how it might coat his tongue, linger like the finest of wines, seeping into his bones and curling around his mind like smoke. It had been so long since something tempted him like this. He swallowed against the hunger he thought long gone, tilting his head slightly as a slow smirk found its way to his lips.

Well, shit. This was interesting.

The nightmare snarled, its many black eyes locked onto him, its twisted, grotesque form coiling in anticipation. Amusement flickered in his violet gaze as he cast his gaze toward Sadie, still frozen on the forest floor. Her expression had lost none of its eerie calm, but her glowing eyes told him everything—this thing was hers, even if she didn’t yet realise it. That thought alone made his curiosity sharpen like a blade.

Then the creature lunged.

The shadows swallowed him in an instant, dissolving his form into the night as he reappeared a little behind Sadie. If the beast bypassed her to get to him, his theories would be confirmed. His lips parted slightly, but instead of speaking, he whistled, a low, taunting note that cut through the thick air. He watched as the nightmare’s head snapped toward him, its many-eyed gaze burning with hunger, its jagged mouth stretching wider.

"Come now," he purred, his voice a slow drawl laced with amusement. "Surely you can do better than that."
 
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One moment Nikolai had been in the monster's path and the next he was at her back. She didn't know exactly how far, but she could feel him behind her as he taunted it. She wondered, face blank, if this was all some twisted game to him. Was this why he had shown up to Eluin's office? To upset her repeatedly until she gave up and fled. Had he known this creature was out here?

Maybe he had been hunting it and she was simply an easy thing to use as bait.

She had barely any time to process what was happening before the beast lurched again, only to stop. It glanced between Sadie and Nikolai, its grotesque form quivering with hesitation. It almost looked like it was thinking. Considering who to attack next.

The black voids, its eyes, locked onto her. Realization curdled in her stomach. It was interested in her, not Nikolai.

Its head twitched, nostrils flaring. Claws dug into the earth. The monster let out a deafening screech of frustration, of warning. It lowered itself like a cat ready to pounce, but its eyes had shifted back to Nikolai. The beast waited.

For what? Sadie had no idea. But perhaps she, too, could test a theory.

It may have been a fluke, a simple misunderstanding, but she could have sworn the beast understood her when she gave it a short nod. As if it had been waiting for her command this entire time. And with that nod, it lunged again past Sadie, aiming straight for Nikolai.
 
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Nikolai barely twitched as the beast lunged, its twisted form blotting out the pale slivers of moonlight filtering through the canopy. The shadows around him thickened in an instant, responding not to his command, but to his will, coiling like serpents, stretching out and solidifying as they lashed around the nightmare’s grotesque body. The thing screeched as the darkness snared it mid-air, the impact sending a vibration through the earth.

Moons. It reeked.

A stench that burned his sensitive nose—like rotting meat left to fester in damp, stale air, but beneath that, there was something worse. Something acrid and unnatural, thick with the cloying scent of wrongness.

Nikolai inhaled sharply, steadying himself against the surge of revulsion that twisted through him. His lip curled.

"Now, that was rude," he said, his tone light but edged with something sharper, something knowing. He tilted his head toward Sadie, violet eyes narrowing as they settled on her.

“You are a dangerous little thing, Ilithoré.” he smirked, the ancient name rolling off his tongue.

The beast thrashed, writhing against its restraints, but the shadows only tightened, dragging it further into the earth. The oily sheen of its skin gleamed under the moonlight as it let out another ear-splitting screech to which, Nikolai clenched his jaw. Its limbs twitched in unnatural angles as if its entire existence protested against being contained.

Nikolai ignored it. His gaze never left Sadie.

“Well?.. Are you going to save your nightmare, or shall I end it now?..”
 
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The beast barely had time to react before shadows, his shadows, burst forth and ensnared it. Its grotesque body writhed and twisted in defiance, jaw snapping in Nikolai's direction as it struggled against the living chains. It did not like being in a cage, that was clear.

Sadie didn't look at Nikolai. She couldn't. She was focused on the nightmare. On the way it fought and reached for them, even when restrained. It wasn't trying to attack anymore, though. It had never been trying to harm her. It was protecting her.

Ilithoré

The word broke her focus, curling around her like his shadows until it sunk deep into her. Despite the smirk she couldn't see, there was no teasing edge to his tone. Nikolai seemed darkly pleased with this outcome.

My nightmare? Sadie's thoughts swirled, focus wavering. She could feel his eyes burning into the back of her head, studying her as if she were more interesting than the living nightmare caught in his traps. "N-no...It's n-not..."

She couldn't answer him. It wasn't hers. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible.

She didn't continue her thoughts aloud.

A strange pull settled in her chest, something cold and hollow. She wondered if Nikolai had been using his powers on her. Her limbs suddenly felt heavy, too heavy. Her vision began to darken at the edges, images blurring until-

The beast was gone.

It was not dead. It hadn't been released.

Just like Sadie's consciousness, it seemed that is simply ceased to be.

Her head lulled backward, body going limp. The last thing she saw was Nikolai's smirking face shifting as the world tilted and everything went black.
 
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Nikolai let out a slow exhale, staring down at the unconscious girl with mild irritation. For a long moment, he simply looked at her, standing over her unconscious form, the weight of the moment pressing heavier than it should have. The shadows curled at his feet, waiting, whispering. She was supposed to die. It would be so easy. A flick of his wrist. A clean cut. No one would question her disappearance, no one would mourn her. And yet…

His fingers tightened around the hilt of the blade that had taken shape in his palm—solid shadow, darker than the void itself. It pulsed with his will, eager to complete the task he had been given. But he didn’t move.

Instead, he watched her.

She looked deceptively fragile lying there, her chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths. But fragile things didn’t birth nightmares. Fragile things didn’t make his shadows recoil with unease. Dirt streaked her arms, leaves tangled in her hair, and her hands were bloody from where she had hit the forest floor. She was no great warrior, no cunning adversary. She was a scribe. A girl with ink-stained fingers and a mind that had deciphered truths no one should have known. A girl who had birthed a nightmare into existence and barely seemed to understand it.

Nikolai exhaled sharply, his grip on the blade tightening, then loosening. Damn her.

She should have been nothing. Just another task to complete, another inconvenient loose end to tie up. He loathed loose ends, but this one… this one was interesting.

The blade dissolved into smoke.

He crouched, slipping his arms beneath her and lifting her with ease. She was light in his grasp, her head falling limply against his shoulder, her body slack with unconsciousness. Too easy to break. But she had not broken yet. No, she had stood against him. She had scratched him. She had looked him in the eye and commanded a monster.

His lips quirked, just slightly, as the shadows rose around them like ink spilling into water.

Then, they were gone.



The bed she would wake in was vast, large enough to swallow her whole, positioned at the centre of the room like a throne of midnight. Dark canopies draped from carved obsidian posts, heavy enough to cast shadows even in the dim light. She was still caked in mud and leaves, as though she'd been unceremoniously dumped onto the bed to sleep it off. Her hands, though, hand been cleaned and bound in clean cloth heavy with the scent of a healing salve.

The chamber was steeped in twilight, every surface bathed in deep hues of indigo and silver. The high arched ceiling mimicked the night sky itself, endless and shifting, stars glimmering softly as though the room existed between reality and something far beyond it.

Tall windows stretched from floor to ceiling, partially veiled by dark, flowing curtains. Beyond the glass, twin moons hung high in the sky, casting their cold glow over the garden below.

And the garden…

Violet flowers bloomed beneath the moonlight, their delicate petals glowing faintly as they swayed in the breeze. They were beautiful, breathtaking even, but wrong. Their presence carried a weight, an unseen threat woven into their allure. The air around them shimmered subtly, the poison in their veins potent enough to make even the shadows uneasy.

Ilithoré.

The scent of them seeped into the chamber—rich, floral, and laced with something sharp. Something deadly.

Across the room, Nikolai stood near a long, low table, his back partially turned as he idly swirled a glass in his hand. His coat had been discarded, leaving him in a loose, dark shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His posture was relaxed, but his violet eyes gleamed in the dim light, glancing toward the bed where she lay.

The shadows coiled lazily at his feet, waiting. He had been sent to kill her. Instead, she was here. Still breathing. Still his problem.

He sighed, taking a slow sip from his glass as he flipped another page of her journal.
 
  • Melting
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And in my dreams, I see their faces. I hear their screams- agony. They are in pain.

I should be afraid, but I think it is them who fear me.


The soreness of her entire body was the first thing she noticed. It must have been a dream- a nightmare. She figured she must have had a dizzy spell while working. She must have hit the ground hard. That would surely explain the ache in all her bones and the stiffness of her joints. She wasn't a stranger to fainting, not when eating was a luxury and interfered with her work. Eluin worried, in his special way. He would leave notes reminding her to eat or leave trays of crackers out for her. But he'd leave a note right beside lecturing her on the importance of keeping crumbs away from his precious work.

So most nights, she went without.

Warmth. That was the second thing she noticed. It was a deep, sinking warmth that wrapped around her tightly and pressed her down further into a mattress that was far more plush than anything she had ever known. Her eyes were still shut, but it startled her. It was wrong. Very wrong.

Her hands, bound tightly with cloth opened and shut, fingers pinching the sheets over her. Sheets. Not one, but multiple. Smooth and cool, silk maybe. Definitely not the hole-ridden, threadbare blanket in her bed. The scent of something caught her attention. Flowers?

Sadie shifted, forcing her eyes open. Something crackled in her hair. Leaves. Her vision swirled for a moment before the room came into focus. It was dimly lit, large, and most notably not hers. She pushed her self upright, and sharp stinging shot through her hands. She looked down at them. They were bound in soft cloth, covering the wounds she swore were only in her dream. Strangely, it seemed they were the only clean part of her.

Someone had dressed my wounds? Had Eluin taken care of me?

She forced herself out of bed and nearly collapsed, using the obsidian post to hold herself upright until the room stopped spinning and her body cooperated with its exhaustion. After a few hesitant steps, she made it to the window and let out a sigh. It was still night. She was still nearby. Most importantly, she could get back before Eluin killed her for her mistake.

A chill seeped into her bones and she spun around, realizing she wasn't alone. And worse, the man from her nightmare was here. At the opposite end of the room. Her heart raced like a hummingbird. She was panicking.

Half shrouded in candlelight, stood that nameless man with her journal. She recognized the worn leather and ink stained edges. The journal with Eluin's transcriptions had been less...loved. He sipped whatever he was drinking before flipping another page, eyes scanning like he was enjoying a good novel.

Sadie sucked in a sharp breath and reached for the nearest thing she could use as a weapon- a vase, and stepped backward until her spine hit the wall.

"Who are you?" Her voice wavered, hand trembling as she held the vase outwards to keep him away.
 
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Nikolai knew the moment she woke. The shift in her breathing, the quickening of her pulse—tiny, telltale signs of awareness creeping back into body. He did not look up. Not at first. Instead, he let his gaze remain on the journal in his hands, idly turning a page as if she were nothing more than an afterthought.

She moved. Stiff, slow, and testing.. He could hear the rustle of silk, the quiet hiss of breath through clenched teeth as she forced herself upright. Fragile little thing, he thought, though his amusement deepened as she stumbled, barely catching herself against the post of the bed.

Still, she made it to the window, and his brow quirked as he let his violet gaze rise to watch her, her hands pressing against the cool glass as if seeking some kind of reassurance. She thinks she can run. The thought was almost charming.

Then, she turned and her heartbeat stuttered, her breath caught in her throat, and her entire body tensed with instinctive panic. Good, he mused. She should be afraid.

And yet, she was not entirely ruled by fear. He watched as she scanned the room, her mind working through the panic, looking for an exit, a weapon a... vase. She gripped it as if it were a blade, spine pressed flat against the wall in a desperate bid to keep space between them.

Precious.

His lips twitched, and then, he laughed. A quiet, smoky thing, rich with dark amusement, rolling low in his chest. He finally lifted his attention from the pages, violet eyes gleaming in the candlelight as he took her in—rumpled and bruised, dirt still clinging to her skin, leaves tangled in her hair, and yet, standing before him, glaring at him, brandishing a vase as if it would keep him at bay.

'Who are you?'

What a dangerous question.

Nikolai closed the journal with a soft thud, his fingers still resting lightly on the leather cover. He studied her for a moment longer, leaning heavily on the table in front of him and letting the silence stretch just long enough to watch her unease coil tighter.

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he tilted his head, that smirk still lingering at the corner of his mouth."You set a monster on me," he murmured, voice silken, edged with something knowing. "And yet, you are the one trembling."

He gestured lazily toward the vase with a flick of his fingers. "Do you truly think that will help you, Ilithoré?" The nickname dripped from his tongue like a secret, heavy with meaning she did not yet understand.

And gods, how he would enjoy watching her learn.
 
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Her breaths came in, shallow and uneven. The air in the room felt thick, weighed down. Maybe it was his shadows that suffocated her or maybe it was terror. Her stomach dropped as he studied her. She was really no match, not with a stupid fucking vase. His eyes held a curiosity in them, maybe even amusement. Some sort of morbid satisfaction?

He closed the journal, but Sadie understood that he'd seen half-formed memories, fears, dreams, and thoughts that didn't feel like hers. His violet eyes pinned her in place, the smirk just as cruel and damning as it had been the first time she'd seen it.

Nikolai knew the silence ate away at her. The longer it stretched, the tighter the invisible rope around her neck felt. And still, he maintained his casual demeanor while she trembled like a frightened child. As if he hadn't just ripped through years of privacy and made an accusation more unsettling than his icy touch had been.

You set a monster on me.

Her arm dropped slightly, fatigue threatening to make her drop it altogether.

Ilithoré?

That name slithered from his tongue, foreign yet familiar. Something ancient, but something she didn't understand. She thought through her countless lessons with Eluin on learning the language, but the word hadn't come up- even in their correspondences on how either assured they were more correct on translations than the other. He seemed delighted in calling her a little bird the first time, but the look on his face now...he was enjoying this- enjoying torturing an innocent woman because of some books she was paid meagerly to transcribe and record.

Ilithoré.

A name? A title? A curse? Sadie didn't know what it meant, but it made something curl inside her like it was waiting to unfold. He used the word like it belonged to her.

"You didn't answer my question." She tried to sound menacing.
 
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