Snippet #2548235

Nora was panting softly from the strange chain as Lazarus came toward her, golden wings unfolding and steam rising from his nose. At least he had a dragon's temper. She remained frozen in place as he spoke to her, eyes locked desperately with his.

I am not weak! She wanted to scream. But she felt it was a lie. Her fear made her weak. And she hated it. And she would never wish it on anyone. Not this life. Not when freedom was an option.

"Now or never, Miss Silverwing. Make your choice wisely. I will be relocating if I know you are going back. I will not take the chances of your slipping up about me." He began to retreat in the opposite direction.

Nora hated to be rushed when thinking. Panting, and growling in frustration, she paced the invisible line between the magics and Lazarus--between the Queen and freedom. Smoke puffed from her nose in her agitation, and her eyes boiled to a bloody red. Her growls became low rumbling roars, like a cadged animal.

I am one of many. We are many of nothing. We are given life by the Queen and in turn we give our life to her whim. It has always been so. It will always be so.

But would it really always be so? And if Lazarus could help her--perhaps her could help the others. If the Queen learned of her abandonment--it would mean death, cramped cells, and torment. But--was a real taste of the open air, a real taste of freedom worth that possibility? And if her whole life there was a lie--what was the truth of her being? Only Lazarus would ever offer her the chance of truth.

This was possibly the most unwise decision she had ever made.

With a snarl her wings ripped from her shoulders, their blue scales sparkling like sapphires and their membranes casting a water-like reflection across the ground. With a short running start she sprung across the invisible barrier as fast as she could--and was nearly flung backwards by the force of the invisible icy chain around her throat pulling taut. As if true chains were there, red welts began to appear around her pale throat, angry and deep. Still she threw herself forward, smoke puffing from her nose, dust flying behind her as she forced herself forward. Ruts of dirt piled up around her sandals as she yanked forward, struggling with the invisible icy chain. She beat her wings furiously backwards, flinging her head side to side like a dog struggling from it's leash. Nora clawed at her throat, wishing she could pull the chain away with her strength--but she only succeeded in making herself bleed. Enraged by her struggle, she let out a piercing screech, fire belching from her lips as she beat the air with her wings, pulling and pulling--her muscles bunching beneath her tank top with the effort.

Nora gave one final push, her strong wings lifting her from the ground with their force--the invisible chain tightened--her throat closed and lights danced before her eyes. She found herself thinking--I will strangle myself to death before I am free. From somewhere deep in her belly, another desperate belch of fire sprung forth--and suddenly the chain went slack. Nora was flung away from the scent of magics, toward the retreating form of Lazarus, gasping painful breaths into her scorched lungs before she hit the ground. Hard. She felt herself skid across the dirt over rocks and found herself on her back, staring up into Lazarus's face. She was smiling, pointed teeth bared--but her eyes were black as coals.

"I am not...weak-willed..." Nora coughed up at him, voice hoarse from being choked. "But I would be lying to you if I said that was a wise choice..." A black line--like frostbite had appeared around her throat. Shakily, she got to her feet, swaying before him. "I would also be lying to you if I did not tell you that others will come for me...I am sorry if I am ruining your...sabbatical..." Nora wondered what that meant--but it did seem of great import to him. "But--if you lead, I shall follow Mr Steele...and I will not welch on a debt."