That night, the moon hung ghost-pale over Tungsten, its light spilling silver across the courtyard stones. Valia sat in her room, the world around her hushed, her body aching in strange places that had nothing to do with work. It seemed everytime she used her power, it turned her to a horny beast.
She had felt Ligon's gaze on her and knew he'd seen her, but she couldn't bring herself to face him. Not now. Not with the echoes of those screams dredged up memories she had tried to forget.
She was mess, trembling like a child over some childhood memories, though she'd once walked into war without flinching.
Pathetic yet again.
Valia sighed as she pressed a hand to her chest, to the hollow thrum beneath her ribs, as the memories came flooding in once more
The laughters....
Her tone dripped venom, low and silken. Qerev'nrys.
"Valia! Come on, stop sulking and come with us!" Qerev'nrys's voice was too bright, too honeyed. Her red hair like spilled wine in the sun. Is she no longer angry with me? Valia thought "Mother said we could go to the ravine. You'll like it there, there are new discovered gems and new weapons, I know you like those kind of barbaric stuff ."
Valia hesitated. This little rat is trying to trick me, I'm sure of it "But you never take me anywhere."
Her sister laughed, tossing her braids over one shoulder. "Oh, please. I wouldn't have called you but Mother said everyone must go to the site, we must all learn for the sake of the clan and you, more than others, must put in double efforts. You should thank her and be grateful for an opportunity to prove yourself as well as indulge in your preferences"
The other dragonian children snickered, muffling behind their hands
A sharp glance from Qerev'nrys shut them up. "Be nice," she said smoothly, eyes never leaving Valia. "Come. We'll picnic near the pit. It's cooler there."
Well, if she puts it like that, what's the worst that could happen?
Valia followed after them, for the first time happy to be accepted by her age group.
Later, under the white glare of noon, they sat by the edge of the anaconda pit. A gaping hole in the earth, narrow at the mouth but wide and dark within.
"Fruit?" offered Marash, the smallest girl, holding out a bowl of sliced fireberries.
Valia shook her head. "Too sour."
"Then drink," Qerev'nrys said, pressing a cup into her hands. "You'll like this one. It's sweet. From my father's cellar."
Valia blinked. "Isn't that—"
"Shh." Her sister's smile deepened. "You deserve something fine for once."
Valia hesitated, then took a sip.
It was sweet. Too sweet. Then burned. The world tilted. Familiar with this feeling, Valia knew she had been poisoned but by what?
"Wha… what was in—"
Her knees buckled.
Thirn caught the cup before it hit the ground, grinning. "Dragonsbane works fast, doesn't it?"
"Dragonsbane?" Valia whispered, dazed. "Why…?"
"Because you don't belong," hissed Marash, her pupils thin slits of white flame.
"You ruin every feast," muttered another.
"Always whining, you might not have said it out loud but we see it in your eyes, groveling for companionship. Clinging to your crude love of weapons and that revolting brute strength. You shame every drop of royal blood in your veins."
Qerev'nrys crouched before her, tucking a strand of Valia's hair behind her ear. "Don't look so betrayed, sister. This is mercy."
Valia's breath hitched. "Mercy?"
Her sister nodded, eyes glinting red. "Yes. No more loneliness. No more pain. Oops. I lied. Maybe a little pain."
And with a gentle push Qerev'nrys sent her tumbling through the hole.
Valia's scream a weak protest as the anacondas snacked on her like they've been starved for days. She remembered the heat of their bodies, the crushing coils, the tearing pain as their teeth met her flesh. Her skin split. Her blood sang.
How could I have fallen for this? Why am I always so stupid? I have the mind of an adult for gods sake! Why do I look for validation like a pathetic fool.
Valia's heart convulsed, every beat a blade twisting inside her as pain crushed through her chest like a fist of fire. The agony built until it could no longer fit within flesh. A piercing shriek that shattered the edges of hearing ripped out from her lips, shredding the air itself and shattering the world around her.
The snakes burst apart like glass struck by lightning.
Rain hammered her into the ground as she went under. Her body fought to mend itself in the cold. When she woke, two days had passed. No one had come. So she rose on trembling legs and dragged herself home, starved, drenched, streaked with dirt, and hollow-eyed.
She arrived home, torn and filthy, dragging her bloodied leg across the courtyard. The children froze mid-laughter as she appeared. Mud-streaked, trembling, eyes wild Valia glared coldly at them.
Qerev'nrys stepped forward, face pale. "You… you're alive?"
Valia's voice rasped. "You left me there."
Qerev'nrys's lip trembled, then curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "You should have just died, little sister. Truly. It would've been kinder."
"Kind?" Valia spat, staggering toward her. "You call that kindness?"
Qerev'nrys's voice softened, tender. "You don't understand, Valia. Watching you suffer hurts me. I'd rather see you dead than broken. Isn't that love in its truest glory, little sister." Behind her, cruel laughter rippled, low and delighted.
Valia stared at her sister, the beautiful, merciless thing that shared her blood, with bleak eyes and whispered, "You'll regret not killing me properly."
Qerev'nrys laughed, a thin, cracking sound, like glass under pressure.
"Doubt it," she said. "You'll regret coming home alive."
With a lazy flick of her hand, she turned back to her game.
"As an act of grace, I'll spare you today. Call it a bonus. For astonishing a genius such as myself. Not everyone earns that privilege. Let's see how long you last, little sister."
Valia turned away, still hollow-eyed, her footsteps dragging through the dim hall toward her room.
When the adults later stumbled upon the site of incidence, they had stared in confusion, whispering about the wrath of the heavens.
From that day, she had tried experiments with dead animals, dead trees and injured beasts. That was when she had discovered her voice could heal, and also destroy.
Valia blinked hard, forcing the memory back into its cage. She only hoped no one had seen her except Ligon. If the wolves had caught a glimpse of that power, they'd be wary, maybe even stone her to death as a parting gift.
She tore her gaze from the window and whispered to herself, "Just exhaustion. Nothing more."