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Lilith Averescu

Soon I would be engulfed; swallowed; deformed

0 · 1,401 views · located in Fae Realm

a character in “Aes SΓ­dhe”, as played by Verix

Description

ImageL I L I T Hxxxxxxxx
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β—’
β—’β—’ n a m e : xxxlilith averescu

β—’β—’ a l i a s : xx vremena

β—’β—’ h u m a nxxn a m e : xxx evelyn abrahams

β—’β—’ a g e : xxx six-hundred sixty-six

β—’β—’ s e x u a l i t y : xxx pansexual

β—’β—’ c o u r t : xxx winter

β—’β—’ r o l e : xxx seekerxxxtracker

β—’β—’ o c c u p a t i o n : xxx court recorder

β—’β—’ p r i m a r yxxp o w e r : xxx memory

β—’β—’ t h o u g h txxc o l o u r : xxx#6d2f2f

β—’β—’ d i a l o g u exxc o l o u r : xxx#83665c


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β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€
━━━━━He moved forwards - towards me - as if passing through befogged pillars Of a once mighty temple.



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β—’β—’ a p p e a r a n c e

VANITY xxxhad never suited a Fae like Lilith who knew all too well how the world perceived her. For in the reflection of a looking glass it told her that the creature it saw before itself was no less a Fae than it was a monster. Forming and reforming as though she herself were made of mist β€” or simply a ghost that couldn’t quite remember it’s corporeal form β€” a set of horribly pale eyes seemed out of place; like frostbite it burned with a gelidity that seemed at odds with its nature. Too gentle for Lilith to have ever been born with its blue hue, it seemed almost a crime to have displaced them from their original owner. The girl from which she gauged the eyes out of seemed to think so.

The bitterness of having a rapidly deteriorating power seemed to pave way for an even more bitter existence. To endlessly recreate herself with every shift of the stars, gleaming and shining and mocking the person of which she had become, her presence in the universe was precarious at best and ill-fated at worst. A fitting destiny for a Fae that had never strived for anything more than to simply exist.

Perhaps her human form would mend her own wary perception of herself in the way Fae could never do. Autumn colored hair, she would look alive and so full of life it would be impossible to ignore the way she demanded attention. Deep, dark, and oh so lovely, she deluded herself in an idealized version of her being, which caused hope to begin to bubble like an impossible dream lead astray.

Lilith liked to think that as a human she would no longer feel as though her world was always a degree off center; a moment’s notice from pushing her off the edge of the universe without so much as a good-bye.


β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ He wanted spoken confirmation unto me:
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β—’β—’ p e r s o n a l i t y

TIME xxx has no remorse for those who care too little or for those who care too much. An overflowing creature of knowledge, it stops for no one and lurks within the invisible confines of space. Lilith had seen it before, and will see it with every brush against an object. It haunts her every waking moment, the power she has, and leaves her wistful for an instant that can never be reclaimed. A tragedy that has no bounds, she seems paralyzed with time.

To come upon the realization that her life would never be her own, the quick admittance to that fact seemed to propel her future forward. For in her mind, the role she was meant to play was given to her for a reason and she would have to be be a fool to dismiss it. The universe had spoken, and rarely if ever, was it wrong. She simply had to hope that whatever life she was meant to live would be one of consequence. To be so otherwise would not only devastate her, it would destroy her very essence.

Winter had never been a friend of Lilith’s for the iciness of its season seemed to permanently create a space in her sighs; a single breath created stars in the air which dazzled brilliantly within the light of day. It surrounded her invariably and leeched off whatever warmth she had to offer, and yet she did all that she could to embrace it. She let her fingers go numb with the pain of ice and wandered within the court with only a dress to cover her form. So desperately she wished to become like the cold that inhabited her home she would do anything to be accepted by it. But it did not care for her efforts. It did not care for anything, it simply was.

Lilith had never been one to try and befriend those who could not see the future so clearly. She hadn’t wanted to deal with those beneath her. Perhaps not in station, but in attitude and aptitude where the psyche of Fae could be evaluated without remorse. She was, for all intents and purposes, an academic who strived to know everything and anything. To understand the reasons behind every action, to unearth secrets that had never once been whispered, to express herself in a way that conversation did not allow β€” the true purpose of knowledge was not simply to bide her time, it was to arm herself in the only way she could.


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β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━Succumbing to His steady drift towards me - along perfect line -
[/center

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β—’β—’ l i k e s

Dewy mornings xxx Sugary drinks xxx Handwritten journals xxx Painted art xxx Burgundy xxx Stone or concrete xxx Whispers & sighs xxx Lanterns xxx Fire xxx The way rain seems to sparkle when it hits the floor xxx xxx Writing xxx Lavish furniture xxx Smoke xxx Word games xxx Composing xxx Asrais xxx Walking on Frozen Lakes xxx Fine Dinning xxx Leather xxx Fruits and berries xxx Water xxx Will-o'-the-wisps xxx Pansies xxx

β—’β—’ d i s l i k e s

Humans xxx Heathers xxx Banshees xxx Scorching Heat xxx
Dark rooms xxx Confined spaces xxx Tears xxx Kelpie meat xxx Repetition xxx Spoiled milk xxx Messy handwriting xxx Wings x Apples xxx Off key singers xxx Shrill sounds xxx Clouds x Those who don't read xxx Goblins xxx Mentions of familiar ties xxx Overly sad stories xxx Woe-is-me personalities xxx Summer Court xxx Velvet xxx Masks xxx


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━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━Damn His desire to reaffirm such loathed aim - I knew I was His victim!


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β—’β—’ s t r e n g t h s

ACADEMIC xxx Perhaps not intelligent inartistically, Lilith prides herself on knowing a little bit of everything. Having read libraries worth of texts, it would be almost impossible not to be smart with all that she seemingly knows.

DEDICATED xxxPride may not be her downfall, but her loyalty may be. She's far too willing to do the things she feels she must for a cause she believes in. She'll persevere no matter the circumstance, and perhaps that with an uncanny amount of luck she's so far been very successful in all her endeavors.

CONTROL xxxLilith had never been one to lash out or been spontaneous in anything. She does everything with patience and that precision that might even think she's doing nothing at all. Her power for one is something she's particularly proud of.


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β—’β—’ w e a k n e s s e s

TIME xxxHaving so many memories floating in her mind has made Lilith unaware of the passage of time. She regularly forgets what year it is, and at times believes another persons memory is her own. It's a slippery slope she can't help but fall under.

SNITCH xxxShe had never been the type of Fae to keep secrets from keeping her awake. She'll tell the court of dissents, tell the wife of a cheat that they're husband is unfaithful, tell the baker who the mysterious bread thief is - why should she care if they get in trouble, they're not her problem.

APATHETIC xxxLilith has no remorse for the people she ruins the lives of. She does not care for the sad stories that come attached with every living being. If she did she'd have run out of tears the moment she was born.


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β—’β—’ m a g i cxx &xx e q u i p m e n t

MEMORY xxxLilith has the ability to see the history of any object or any person. The control she maintains over her power is uncanny, for more than simply viewing whatever history an object wishes her to see, she can choose a specific time related to it. Who had touched, the scene surrounding it, it plays much like a movie to Lilith who views it as nothing more than that. For living beings however, she can do the same only when their guards are let down. However, her ability works passively as well where even when she doesn't wish to see the history of an object/being she does so anyway. In that case it will showcase to her whatever it wishes at that point.

LIMITATIONS & DRAWBACKS xxxBare contact needs to be in order for her power to work, that being skin to skin or skin to object. Her visions, while clear most of the time, can only be affected by the presence of iron. It blurs whatever history she's trying to see, and weakens her ability to being only passive. As well, every one-hundred years she must take the eyes of another as with every passing second her eyes become cloudy until they eventually turn white. When they turn a solid color her powers will no longer work until she exchanges one set of eyes for another.

E q u i p m e n t xxxA headpiece made of solid gold keeps her feet grounded, and from floating above the ground.



β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━Soon I would be engulfed; swallowed; deformed to a new self



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β—’β—’ h i s t o r y

THE ROOM xxx echoed with a silence that seemed to Lilith the loudest sound of all. Perhaps it was the pervasive feeling of being an intruder within a house they claimed she lived in; or maybe it was the way a boy with dark brown hair seemed to stare in disbelief at her, as though willing a nightmare to go away. Lilith could do nothing but shift her weight as though it would balance the uncanny guilt she felt toward people she did not know β€” and she did not know them. How foolish did they have to be to think she was their daughter?

The furniture spoke of no past, no family, no known history between her and them. In fact, it said nothing at all. They were just as much a stranger to her as she was to them. So why did they insist she was? To bring them to her level, a conviction worse than death? Her power had never failed to her, hadn’t since she first recognized it for what it was β€” a gift.

Which was why when the Winter Court officials came in to collect the family Lilith knew she was not a part of, she simply left and continued with the life she had before. One where she worked for the Winter Court and on the side weeded out those who wished to disobey the King, like that of the family she convicted.

( Let it be known however, that her self-proclaimed mastery of her art did not indeed mean she knew everything there was to know about it. It simply meant, she maintained control to to the point where it reconciled with her lack of knowledge. It was to be precise, a pride Fae’s folly.

A misjudgment of her own power lead to the demise of the only people who had cared for her. Their screams a haunting reminder of the family she had forsaken because she was too enamored with herself and her ability. A mistake she was sure to correct, for now when she finds those who wish to dissent, she does so with full knowledge of what it means to destroy.
)

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━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━What to do, when evil becomes you?


c h a r a c t e rxxs h e e txbyxxxlayla
f a c e c l a i mxxxkyra wennersten
p l a y e dxxb yxxxverix

So begins...

Lilith Averescu's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amaya Kyotsuki Character Portrait: Lilith Averescu Character Portrait: Aurora Kinski Character Portrait: Alize MorleaΓΊ Character Portrait: Petunia Griffin Character Portrait: Orhien Naena
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

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#, as written by Layla
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▁ β–‚ β–ƒxxxH I G Hxxxxxx ▁ β–‚ β–ƒxxx31/12/17 : 1100xxxxxx▁ β–‚ β–ƒxxxW H E R ExxxW O R L D SxxxC O L L I D E
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xxxxxxThe moon released its cold, blue breath. Her sisters followed; speckles of starlight coming to life across the cold expanse overhead. And like a milky way on earth, the faelights that hovered untethered to mortal devices illuminated a path deep into the woods. Human passersby steered clear of the forest that emanated terror and demise, ushered away by a cleverly crafted glamour.
xxxxxxThose that dared venture into the sprawling canopies and distant shadows would find a mirageβ€”an illusion that broke like water when prodded. And through this unseen wallβ€”magic. For on the final night of every year, exiles and Fey without allegianceβ€”or "freefolk," as was polite to call themβ€”gathered in the fringes of New York City to celebrate the end of the earth's rotation.
xxxxxxThrough the veil were colours unseen by the human eye. Beads of light hung from the branches of ancient trees, their fingertips caressing the tips of faerie wings. A river snaked through the celebrations, spelled to bubble with a thick and cloying liquid of darkest gold.
xxxxxxFey danced to music that swelled like waves and descended in waterfalls. An alluring flute murmured its tune from the fingers of a sylph, urging lost humans to dance their worries away. Until their feet blistered, bled, and broke.
xxxxxxThe couples and groups twirling to the symphony were immune to such temptations, as they, too, had been forged of impossible things. A little blue boy giggled in his mother's arms as she twirled him 'round and 'round, her lips peeling back to reveal small, pointy teeth that could shatter human bones. Another girl blushed, her skin morphing into the emeralds and mahoganies of the trees behind her as if she could disappear into the belly of a trunk.
xxxxxx"Oi, watch it!" shouted a manβ€”who was also a goat. Thankfully, from the waist down. He glared over his shoulder at the rather ordinary looking fellow stumbling past him. The subject of his distaste grunted and waved his mug of honeyed tea, its contents sloshing over the sides and between his fingers.
xxxxxx"S'ry," he murmured, scrunching his nose. Suddenly, a sneeze erupted from him, the strength of it tossing him backward into a crate of candied apples and lifting the skirts of some wayward ladies. They squealed, sending of breath of frigid air that melded his hand to his mug.
xxxxxx"Oh, come on," he groaned, rolling onto his side and falling to the dirt. He blinked. And squeezed his eyes shut. Opened them. Closed. For surely, he must be mistaken. Or inebriated.
xxxxxxFor through the thicket of bushes and leaves, a set of ruby orbs peered into the revelry. But before the man could yell, the redcap scuttled away into darkness, leaving only a murky memory in its wake.

▁ β–‚ β–ƒ β–‚ ▁


xxxxxxAmaya peered through the lens of her microscope at the bronze watch on her worktop. Joji hummed overhead, the tremble and thump of his synth filling the old antique store with contemporary music. Amaya exhaled to his croon, and wiggled the burnisher into the bezel of the old watch.
xxxxxx"Hey grand- Shit!" A cacophony of tumbling wood and smashing metal followed his expletives, ending with the sharp punctuation of his pained wail. "Ow, ow, ow!"
xxxxxxAmaya did not look up from her work as she said, "That's $6,410 worth of priceless artifacts you just knocked over."
xxxxxx"My femur! My femur!"
xxxxxx"Is decidedly less valuable," she murmured, slipping the watch's crystal face over the dial. "What are you doing in my shop, Ishaan?"
xxxxxx"What most people do in shops? Buy things?" Ishaan emerged from behind a glass cabinet stuffed with various deadly instruments and one too many skulls. "Though I can't imagine how anyone finds anything in this place. When was the last time you organised?"
xxxxxx"It's organised."
xxxxxxIshaan looked around him at the various texts and materials littered throughout the store, all of which seemed to have been placed without reason. A cluster of feathered pens sat beside a fraying Jack-o'-lantern; a pile of rare manuscripts were poised precariously atop a sealed bottle of indiscernible liquid; a frightening puppet with only one eye hung beside a brilliant chandelier of molten gold.
xxxxxx"Right," said Ishaan.
xxxxxx"Well?" Amaya prodded. "Out with it."
xxxxxx"We need Pandora's Box for the New Year's celebrations."
xxxxxxAmaya lifted her head to pin Ishaan with her black stare. She raised a brow. "Do you?"
xxxxxx"Well, yes. Obviously. Because I just said-"
xxxxxx"It was a rhetorical question."
xxxxxx"Oh."
xxxxxxMoments passed, the silence interjected only by the soft ticking of the watch Amaya held in her hands.
xxxxxx"Soooo..." Ishaan began. "Can you do it?"
xxxxxx"Yes."
xxxxxx"Will you do it?" he clarified.
xxxxxx"What happened to the box I gave you last year?"
xxxxxx"Uh..." Ishaan smiled sheepishly. "We broke it."
xxxxxx"How?"
xxxxxx"Gertrude was gassy."
xxxxxx"That literally explains nothing."
xxxxxx"Gertrude is part orc."
xxxxxx"Oh. That explains everything." They shared a slow nod of understanding. Without warning, Amaya stood, wiping her hands on the cloth strewn over her chair. "Don't break anything or I'll sell your organs on the black market to make up my losses."
xxxxxxAmaya glided between the mountain of objects seemingly without care as Ishaan tiptoed behind her. She ducked, disappearing into a narrow passageway that opened up to reveal a marginally wider door. She twisted the handle and stepped in.
xxxxxx"You don't lock it?" Ishaan asked.
xxxxxx"Why? Would you steal from me?" she replied.
xxxxxx"N-no. Geez. Of course not. Please stop looking at me.”
xxxxxxA flood of cold air greeted them. Colder even than the Winter beyond the store's four walls. The room glowed with an eerie blue light. This was Amaya's real collection. The priceless Fey objects and relics beyond the innocuous storefront that declared this place the Home of Intangible Things.
xxxxxxPotions swirling with incandescent hues perched on shelves etched with ancient runes; a wiry potted plant emitted an eerie glow in a corner; a book whose cover shifted with every minute hovered within a glass dome. Yet Amaya ignored all these as she approached a box the size of her palm. She lifted it, peeling back the velvet cloth that encased it.
xxxxxx"Here," she said. "You'll owe me a favour for this."
xxxxxx"Yeah, yeah. I know the rules. But," he chewed his lip, "we were actually hoping for another favour from you. Could you, maybe, attend the celebrations and call upon the box yourself? Its sister was so unruly last year. We had no idea how to get it back in once we'd opened it."
xxxxxx"Put three objects of personal value into the box and call-"
xxxxxx"Yeah, we got your instructions last time. But those rascals inside are hard to wrestle."
xxxxxx"You'll have to pay extra."
xxxxxx"Already on it." Ishaan waved his arm. "My sister has a gem from one of the late king's crowns. So, deal?"
xxxxxxAmaya tilted her head, fixing him with her stare. "Deal."

▁ β–‚ β–ƒ β–‚ ▁


xxxxxxThe box held within it collective memoriesβ€”whispers of another time before the courts had been forged and anarchy reigned. Four powerful faeries had gathered to forge an alliance, carving into a map the lines of their rule. The Courts embodied the balance of the natural world. The seasonal courtsβ€”Summer and Winterβ€”would share the earth's cycle, shifting their power to reflect changes in the climate. The courts of Dark and High would create chaos and maintain order, so that the world would not fall into excess. A High Lady or Lord would command each court, with their mates at their side.
xxxxxxAmaya stood at the centre of a clearing, where a crowd had gathered in anticipation of the night's ritual. The midnight hour neared.
xxxxxxA strand of alabaster hair fluttered into Amaya’s line of vision. She beat her papery wings and the small gust that followed lifted her hair from her face. Her off-the-shoulder dress swished around her ankles, their opal colours changing in the dim light that emanated from the faelights.
xxxxxxAmaya paid her audience no head as she twisted the box’s moving parts, spinning the sundial leftward untilβ€”like a setting sun that had met its endβ€”it was eclipsed by a silver moon. She spun both ends of the box until the flourishing green tress met its barren twin on the other side.
xxxxxxPandora’s box unlocked.
xxxxxxA burst of red light blinded the Fey, and when it retreated, a chorus of cheers rose from them. Scarlet figures of smoke and vapour danced above their heads, wielding small swords and spinning in skirts that left faint trails behind them. The musicians began their symphony.
xxxxxxAmaya tilted her head upwards to watch the memories unfurl, her eyelids fluttering shut against their brilliance. The glow of the figures bounced off the crescent moon on her forehead, the curved mark scattering the colours into a kaleidoscopic dance.
xxxxxxSuddenly, a small red dancer turned and screamed.
xxxxxxAmaya's eyes snapped open. She turned as the people forged of red smoke raced with a fervour, screeching as they fought to return to their box. Large figures of flesh and bone rose behind them, their forearms encased in metal, their faces cloaked in armour. They wore the uniforms of the High Court's royal guardβ€”a legion sworn to protect the faerie on the throneβ€”but their magic did not solely belong to the High Court. A faerie with a swarm of straw-blonde hair threw a column of flame into the throngs of Fey fleeing the woods.
xxxxxx"Give us the Halflings," called a woman in copper armour. "And we might consider granting you exiles and traitors a merciful death."
xxxxxxAmaya had stilled, enraptured by the woman's familiar form, and the emerald eyes that peered from the slit in her helmet. Airell. The girl had been her friend, once. Or as close to a friend as one could find when one was imprisoned in a tower.
xxxxxxThe luck fae had warned her of this. KazimΓ­r Ε Ε₯astnΓ½. He had told her of the late king's downfall and her role in his child's resurrection. He had said with some mirth that she owed him a debt. He had saved her life, he'd claimed. When he was just a child, and she the prisoner of the High Lady of the Dark Court. She had not wanted to believe him, but she did remember him. The small boy with smaller antlers who had come to her cell and offered her luck.
xxxxxx"Feykiller," Airell intoned. "I did not expect to see you. Today must be my lucky day."
xxxxxxAmaya turned and ran.
xxxxxx"Fleeing again, are we?" Airell called out. "Where is the Blood Moon our keepers worshipped?"
xxxxxxAmaya darted between the trees, whizzing left and right until Airell's flames vanished behind her.
xxxxxxA little blue girl collapsed to her knees. "Mama!" she wailed. "Mama!" But the Fey around her did not stop. They had become cruel in their haste to survive.
xxxxxx"Hold on to me," Amaya barked. She wrapped her arms around the small girl, who clung to her with a grip that was unexpected of such a small creature, and ran.
xxxxxx"This way!" she called out to the faeries fleeing aimlessly through the woods. "There's a path that leads out of the forest into a human Walmart and cave on the way should we need to hide. Follow the trees with the crawling vines and blue flowers until you near a small ravine. Quickly. Quietly."
xxxxxxThe Fey stumbled through the darkened woods, a petite Summer faerie emitting a tentative glow to illuminate their path. Amaya looked over her shoulder to see the faeries who had stayed behind to fight the invasion, and those who were sprawled on the ground. They were much too still.
xxxxxx"Found you."
xxxxxxAmaya twisted, flinging the small child forward and into the thicketβ€”better bruised than deadβ€”as Airell lobbed a dozen black arrows toward her with nothing but a thought.