Lilin

-1-
It was a bitter night. Winter had begun to set in earlier in the week with a frosty blanket sheeting the grass blades that tickled her feet. She wished she had worn spats or slippers at the very least, but it was too late now. He was about to arrive. She couldn’t risk missing him and waiting another week, not when she’d walked a few miles just to get to the lair without looking suspicious.
Lilin didn’t have to walk much further. She had her paws clasped in front of her and a cloak flowing behind her. A long, dirtied servant girl’s dress hugged her body disgustingly, the rim swishing just above her ankles, though it was the best disguise she had. Dressing up like Eris or Hestia or a normal soul would look too suspicious as none of them were Spirals.
She almost growled at the sight of the figure ahead. Even with a hood cutting her vision in half, blocking out the night sky, she could see the bronze of his armour glinting in the moonlight and the dangling orange of his scarf. A chequered cloak of brown and white flitted beneath it all.
Yep, she thought, stifling her groan, that’s him.
“Hey,” he called out, smiling. She could only just see it from a few feet away. “Lilin, is it?”
“Yes, it is, sir,” she cooed, smiling up at him from beneath her hood. She tried not to smile too widely, however. Her stitches were rushed and half-finished thanks to sleeping in that morning.
Her heart sank, as much as she hated it. Dolor would’ve done a better job.
The Imperial before her interrupted her thoughts. She was thankful for that. “Please, call me Folia.”
He offered her his arm, brandished with bronze metal thick enough to deny even the slightest scratch from an executioner’s axe. Runes so faint she had to squint to see them flickered in the moonlight. She felt almost hesitant to touch it. A feeling of dread overcame her as she obliged, keeping her lovely lace rose from view and actively avoiding the etchings. She didn’t expect him to know what it meant, just like she didn’t know what the runes meant, but she wasn’t about to risk it, not since Folia knew of her Dolor and how much she loved her roses.
“Beautiful night, don’t you think?” her partner inquired in a whisper. She could no longer see his face, given their height difference, but she could tell he was grinning.
“Oh yes,” Lilin sighed. “Much more beautiful than I, that’s for sure.”
Folia chuckled. “I doubt that.”
“You may doubt it, but I have to look at myself every time I glance at a mirror.”
After a soft giggle fest, they walked a few minutes in silence. Lilin took in her surroundings in that time and found herself in awe. Birds chirped and sang despite the late hour, distant wind chimes jingled in the breeze. Spruce trees and oak trees reached for the heavens, swaying only slightly, accompanied by the canopy of stars glistening above and groups of fireflies dancing among them. Folia was right, it certainly was a beautiful night.
“How did you come to know of the Society of Souls, my dear?” her partner inquired, patting her paw. She hadn’t realised how tightly she was gripping onto his armour.
Lilin allowed herself to relax slightly, using her tail to feel for the Cleaver she’d strapped over her shoulder as a “just in case”. “Through word of mouth; Eris was in the lair, talking to one of the new candidates.” She thought for a few seconds, making a play of fiddling with her cloak. “Laranja, was it?”
“Ah, so you’re from the Forum?”
“Not from there, I merely come and go as I please.”
Folia hummed. “I hadn’t known of a Lilin in the Forum.”
“As I said,” she began, drawling her words, “I come and go as I please. No one necessarily remembers me.”
“It’s almost like you’re a ghost.”
She snickered, cheeks flushing. “Almost, yes, but not quite, since I’m very much physical.”
He let it drop there, shifting his arm slightly and oh-so-subtly. The muscles contracted and relaxed beneath the armour, a show that was just for her. She was sure that if she were anyone else she would have swooned at the sight, pointing at them and caressing them and drooling all over them. She knew that tactic all too well, however. It no longer bothered her after many months of the same act... repeatedly.
However, she knew she had to comment, even if she rolled her eyes at the thought. “You work out, then.”
He took it gleefully. “I’m glad you noticed beneath all this metal.”
“You could always take it off,” she drawled. “It’s a warm night, after all, and you’re wearing a thick cloak underneath it.”
Folia declined to comment for a few seconds, and then nodded in agreement as much as the bobbing of his beard told her. “I’ll get it off when we get there.”
“I can’t wait,” she cooed, hoping to keep the sarcasm from her tone. Whether or not Folia noticed, he didn’t let on.
Again, silence fell like a thin veil between them. Lilin shifted her cloak out of her eyes and peered up at her partner. He looked pleased with himself, colour brightening his cheeks with a soft, deeper orange than the rest of his face. Amusement and content flickered in his deep brown eyes, and a smile tugged at his lips. Anyone else would’ve thought it cute. She saw it as an opportunity.
A flicker of curiosity burst in his eyes. Lilin turned her head just as he looked her way, feigning interest in a bright purple and blue butterfly that flew past them towards a blooming tulip. Frowning, she thought of Dolor. Trapped somewhere in the lair, she could only imagine the loneliness she must feel without her beloved slave.
“You like butterflies?” Folia inquired, evidently following her gaze.
“I like them fluttering around my flowers,” she admitted, smiling to herself. “I keep a rose garden, and they love to accompany me while I tend to them.”
“I’d love to see it sometime.”
Lilin snorted. “Youhave a fondness for roses?”
“Not necessarily, though if it’s anywhere near as beautiful as I’m sure you are, I’ll be more than content in viewing it.”
It took every ounce of effort to internalise her retching. If she could, she would have given up and turned away, thinking of some other way to do this. She almost snorted to herself. If only there was, I would give anything! However, there wasn’t.
She shot him a quick and flirty smirk, sliding her paw into his. Compared to hers, it was huge with calluses lining his digits and pad. The roughness of it alone made her cringe. Dolor’s were much softer, with a few scratches from rose thorns and adding her own blood to her beautiful creation.
He quickly took the opportunity to encase her paw in his, chuckling. “I didn’t think you were the type to hang around with a soldier, let alone flirt with one.”
“I do have to admit that soldiers aren’t really my type,” Lilin murmured, itching to free her paw, “but you’re different than my plain old self, almost gentler, and that intrigues me.”
“Is that so?”
She shrugged. “You’re not like other soldiers I’ve seen. You’re sweet and kind, without the boasting and the unbelievable amounts of cockiness.”
Folia shifted at her side, shoulders hunching in slight embarrassment. “I suppose I’m not cocky.” He quickly cleared his throat and regained his composure, squeezing her paw. “The lake is just ahead.”
That, she could tell. She couldn’t wait to step in and scrub at her paw until it bled. Lilin lead the way through the trees, tugging Folia along, in a desperate attempt to get there quickly, to feel the cool water wash against her ankles, ridding the feeling of cotton from her scales. Her companion never caught on to her attempt, trying to get her to slow down and chuckling as they went.
Waves of navy blue lapped softly against the sandy bank, shells scattering along it like an odd constellation. She let go of Folia’s paw and rushed onto the beach. The sand sifted pleasantly beneath her feet, soothing her aching toes and brushing up against her swishing tail. She allowed herself to sink her feet further into the blanket of sand, sighing as the pressure disappeared, and sat herself at the edge of the lake, fingering the cold shells the waves left in their wake.
Lilin picked one up and stared at it, frowning. It looked almost like a large snail’s shell, with red mixing with white in a pattern and a rough outside that reminded her of her master. Though Dolor had never been one for breaks or holidays or even days out, often preferring to stay with her beloved plague creation, she kept one of the few shells Lilin brought back for her from her trips. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was still there, or if Dolor had them. Both were unlikely.
“I heard recently that you caught a threat to dragonkind,” she inquired innocently, veiling any shine of intent that might sneak onto her face. “Who is it?”
“Ah,” Folia murmured, sitting down next to her, “that’s classified, I’m afraid.”
“If they’re a threat, surely some of us have every right to know.”
He looked anxious as he spoke, careful not to say the wrong thing. “I suppose you’re right, but if the others find out—”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
Folia shot her a sympathetic, if not guilty, look before sighing. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I don’t want to jeopardise anything. Her servant is still roaming around, according to her screams a couple of years ago.”
Lilin feigned hurt, looking away from him and keeping the shell close to her heart. “You don’t trust me, do you?”
“I-it’s not that, I promise!” She had to keep a grin from spreading across her face at his stumbling comfort. “I just don’t want to screw anything up.”
“I don’t blame you for not trusting me,” she whispered. “I wouldn’t trust myself either. I have a nasty habit of giving away my intent before I can carry it through.”
Folia chuckled lightly, his paw on her shoulder. “You’re trustworthy, Lilin. I swear it.”
“Then tell me who it is.” Lilin turned to meet his gaze, making sure her cloak covered her stitches. “I swear on my own life, Folia, that I won’t tell another soul, dead or alive.”
“Lilin—”
Deities be damned, she almost growled, fluttering her eyelashes on the outside. “Please, handsome?”
Folia stopped in his protests, eyeing her with a confused and flattered expression. “Handsome?”
“You really don’t think you are?”
“Well, I’m a soldier, I don’t—”
“Oh please,” she cooed, reaching up to coil a strand of his mane around her digit, “a soldier has every right to think he’s gorgeous, especially with such a perfect appearance as yourself.”
A bright flush settled in his cheeks, brightening his face with a whole new range of colours. “I guess so.”
Lilin took it upon herself to sit before him, her toes dipping in the water, with a coy grin. “You must be extremely strong to have trapped such a monster as that dragon, surely. I bet no one else could have, including myself.”
“All I did was offer her my help, it was nothing special.”
“And she took it?”
Folia nodded, unsure of himself. “She was in agony. I wanted to help.”
“Aww,” Lilin squealed. “You’re so kind!”
His flush deepened, his cheeks going a bright red. She drew closer. This is easier than I thought.
“Where do you keep her, then?” she inquired. “It must be somewhere heavily warded against a danger such as her, right?”
“Well, you’re right about that.”
“Huh, maybe I’m slightly more intelligent than I thought.”
“I’m sure you’re extremely intelligent, Lilin.”
Lilin snorted. “I can assure you my tutor would tell me otherwise.”
Folia sighed and attempted to brush her cloak hood down, presumably to see her face in full, but she kept a firm grip on the rim. When he went to inquire, she quickly uttered, “I was recently in an accident, and I’d rather you didn’t see my face just yet.”
“I’m sure you’re beautiful either way, my dear,” he said, his voice the epitome of gentle.
Lilin giggled a girly giggle, forcing a smile. “Well, I can assure you that I have a tenth of your overall beauty, my soldier.”
He nibbled at his bottom lip, looking hesitant. Obviously, he’d never flirted for so long before. She was beginning to enjoy his uncertainty. “Just a tenth?”
“Let’s move on from my meagre looks compared to your angelic grace,” Lilin said, edging closer once more. She sat so close that she was almost in his lap. That would be going too far, even for her. She hated this job as much as it stood now. It would be a mistake to let it all go to waste because of her discomfort.
“Where is this monstrosity kept?” she asked, smothering her words with sugar and honey. “I’m certain that one with your intellect will have thought it through properly, unlike some soldiers I’ve come across.”
Without knowing he did so, he puffed out his chest proudly and smiled. “I did, actually. We keep her in the library, with heavy and complicated wards to keep her in. Each brick has a different version of the same rune, along with a Painreliever for her agony.”
“You’re so smart,” she said with a giggle, cupping his face. “Though, surely a monster such as that doesn’t deserve such kindness from the likes of you.”
“Well…”
Lilin pouted at him, flicking strands of his mane out of his face. “It must be so stressful for you to keep her in check.”
Initially, he said nothing, biting his lip once more. He then spoke with such a softness that she could barely hear him. “It is, actually. Or it was, anyway. She’s been behaving recently, though before she nearly broke through the barrier with sheer will alone.” A sigh escaped him, and he succumbed to nuzzling her paw. The urge to wrench it away and run was almost overwhelming. “A friend of mine, Discord, suggested we put Punishment on her, just in case she’s plotting something.”
“Another brilliant idea, indeed! Good looks and intelligence can be found in one package, it seems.”
“Please, it was Discord’s idea.”
“But who’s the one implementing it?”
“…Me.”
She smirked, her face closing in on his, just as a glint caught her eye. She didn’t dare look in its way, for she knew what it was; a ring of keys strapped to his belt dangled there, under his favourite cloak. Of course, it was typical for the maiden to steal the keys of her victim and free her friend or lover, but what other choice did she have? It wasn’t like she could fight him with his armour on, much less injure him without it. He was double her height with muscles of steel, an Imperial to put others to shame.
In other words, it’s time to be the typical maiden. Prepare yourself for excruciating mental pain.
“Then that makes you smarter than your friend, doesn’t it, with your extensive knowledge of runes and keeping such threats at bay.” She felt sick to her stomach with only an inch or two of space between them. Her early dinner that night felt like lead to the ocean; heavy and almost suffocating and bound to come back up eventually. “Tell me, would you ever undo the runes?”
His gaze was heavy-lidded as he spoke, his words a drawl. She smiled at him; she’d managed to ensnare him. “If she misbehaved, then yes.”
“Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen, then.”
Lilin closed the distance between them, closing her eyes as she kissed him. Her stomach roiled. She began to feel sick and dizzy and weak, and not for good reason. It worsened when he returned it after a second of stiffness, her hope dissipating. She hated it with a passion, wishing he’d shove her off, call her a freak, realise she was dead. Instead, he threw an arm around her neck and held her close, stifling her oxygen. She couldn’t breathe, could barely move.
What she wouldn’t do to run off and find some other way to get this plan to work. In fact, she’d give Dolor an extra year in her book prison just for that.
Lilin focused on her tail, which writhed around and slithered towards the ring of keys strapped to his belt. Desperation to get away overcame her. She became reckless, accidentally smacking the keys with the tip and making them jingle. Of course, that caught her partner’s attention.
Making the kiss to deepen was the only way to keep him from looking.
The strap was almost impossible to do with her tail, as she expected, despite the little hope Lilin had of wriggling the keys out through a loose loop. In a sickened attempt, she reached down towards her tail and followed it up to the strap. Stitches disrupted her path a few times, but she eventually got there. She began to undo it, then she panicked. Folia began to pull away from her.
Deities be damned!
Quickly rearranging her cloak, they both snapped open their eyes and giggled to themselves. Her paw was still on the strap, twiddling it free.
“That was quite the adventure,” Folia sighed, smiling.
Gotcha! “Indeed it was, my knight in bronze armour.”
He snorted and moved to get up. Lilin stood with him, brushing her cloak and her dress free of the sand. The cold bite of metal balanced at the end of her tail.
Feigning shock and feeling woozy, she looked up into the sky and gasped. “Oh, Deities, is that the time?” She quickly tightened her cloak around her neck and adjusted the hood further, pretending to be the maiden she definitely always had been. “I need to get going.”
“So soon?” He sounded genuinely hurt, something that would’ve otherwise made her grin.
Lilin shook her head, frowning up at him. In the darkness, she hoped he could only see her eyes. “I have to go meet my mother tomorrow, and she’s not exactly lenient.”
Folia sighed, hooking a digit under her chin in an attempt to lean her head back. When she wouldn’t comply and began to walk away, swaying ever-so-slightly, he stopped her with a paw wrapping around her wrist. She nearly jumped. “Can I see you again?”
“Eventually,” she admitted. “Hopefully I look much more befitting for an angel such as yourself by then.”
“You make it sound like it’ll be a long time.”
“It will. I’ve got to help her and my family with a few... issues.”
“Well,” he began to mutter, “I hope I see you again eventually.”
She turned and gave him a wide, false grin. “Me too, Folia.”
Lilin waved as she walked away, hoping that she didn’t throw up as soon as she was out of sight and earshot. It wouldn’t be the best sight for companion to see. 
-2-
Laranja wasn’t the most amusing dragon Lilin had to talk to. She would’ve much preferred Hace and her friend, Novella. At least they had a sense of humour. All her prison warden did was read, read and do more reading, muttering threats every time she reached for her and her damned book.
However, it was amusing to see her blush with every comment.
“You know, gold contrasts to your wings so wonderfully,” Lilin cooed, poking her smirking snout through the bars that separated her from the Skydancer. “I’d love to ruffle those feathers.”
“You already have,” Laranja growled. She stood out of her reach, paws intertwined in front of her with beautiful roses wrapping up her arms and balancing at the end of her twitching tail. Lanterns floated around her, illuminating her golden face and rosy cheeks. She was cute, and Lilin had to admit that. It made embarrassing her much more fun.
She sighed, stalking the length of her cell. “I hope I haven’t ruined my chances.”
“You had no chances to begin with. You’re dead.”
“If I wasn’t, would you give me a chance?”
At her huff, Lilinstrolled back to the door just in time to see Laranja’s blush deepen before she turned her face away from her. She grinned menacingly. Lilin; 27, Laranja; 1. The only time her guard managed to embarrass her was when she called her decent for a dead spiral. Her grin lasted up until a familiar figure meandered through the halls and towards her cell.
Folia.
His eyes were stone-cold, like ice had frozen a mud puddle, as he approached her, his paws linked behind his back like a proper soldier and a scowl stretching his face. He’d done a full one-eighty since she first saw him; before, he was sweet and stuttering, rushing to comfort her in her time of need. Now, he looked ready to send her back to the hole she’d crawled out of with no remorse in sight.
“Lilin,” he said, gruffly, stopping just short of her snout.
“Folia,” she chirped in return, grinning at him. “How lovely it is to see you again!”
“Shut up.”
Lilin did as she was told, giggling maniacally. She found his serious nature hilarious, for whatever reason. It didn’t suit him at all, not with large puppy eyes and a face that looked formed with hatchling fat. Even his armour didn’t suit him anymore. He looked like some kind of impersonator.
Or maybe she was going insane for thinking so. She couldn’t tell anymore.
Folia waited until she’d finished, wiping a stray tear from her eye, before he spoke, eyebrows raised. “What was that about?”
“It’s funny,” she wheezed. “You’ve changed from the sweet wittle soldier I met with by the lake.”
She slunk back from the door just as he gripped the bars and growled at her. Fear, as a dead female capable of fighting almost anyone, was some kind of distant memory. Instead of terror, her scales tingled with anticipation; eager for a fight that she knew wouldn’t come. Not if he wanted to set an example for Lovely Laranja.
“Just don’t do anything stupid and we won’t have an issue,” he snarled, shoving himself away from the bars and stalking off, though not before whispering something to her guard.
Her ears strained to hear it from her safe wall of cold stone, but all she caught was “escape” and “meddle”. She didn’t want to know who that was referring to, though she assumed it was most likely herself. After all, their second meeting after the lake hadn’t gone pleasantly. She didn’t expect anything less from the Prophet.
He soon left. With Laranja now ignoring her attempts to make her cheeks redden, eyes on her book, she inspected the cell around her for the fourth time in an hour. Mould clawed its way through the cracks in the stone slabs, with a single barred window to grant her the view of tall, waving grass. A few bugs joined her every now and then, though quickly made their escape, their dissatisfaction at her humble abode radiating from them in waves. A singular blanket was her bed, her pillow some spare bandage and bundled up lace.
One could easily tell that this was before the Society of Souls’ time in this lair. Unless you were physical like Lilin and Dolor, it’d be tedious to waste resources on a cell. You’d have more success trying to trap them in a rune covered teapot.
What an unfortunate coincidence her resilient soul turned out to provide her with.
“You’re quiet,” Laranja commented softly, peering into the cell with a raised eyebrow. “What are you plotting?”
Lilin grinned. “I’m debating on how I can use spoons to cut through lead bars.”
Despite herself, the guard snorted. She was even cuter when she smiled. “Good luck with that.”
“Thank you!”
Laranja, shaking her head, turned and went back to being silent, accompanied only by the short, subtle turn of a page. Studying on the job was certainly expected of her. Unlike her two companions, she took her lessons seriously. Perhaps she was wondering how she could send Lilin back to the afterlife, in an eternity of white serenity and blue peace.
She pulled a face. The thought of her joining the Stars seemed a million miles away, when she’d lived her after-death life to the fullest and became the infamous Lilin the Plague Doctor… or something. She wasn’t about to rest on the job and abandon her master. They had a job to do, and she at least wanted to see it through before she rested forever more.
“Do you have a spoon on you, Anya dear?” Lilin cooed, pressing her face against the bars of her cell door once again.
“Just a book,” she murmured. “No cutlery, unfortunately.”
“Oh, how very dull.”
“To you, maybe.”
“To everyone, definitely.”
Laranja rolled her eyes and snapped her book shut, a bored flicker dancing in her eyes. “It’s unfortunate a soul like yourself doesn’t like literature. I daresay it could improve your escape plan.”
“It’s unfortunate for a beautiful female such as yourself to waste your time learning. You never know when you’re going to die, after all!”
Confused, her guard opened her mouth to protest. It never came. Instead, she seized up, gasping slightly, and fell to the floor. The book fell from her paws, sliding across the floor. Her lanterns faded and wavered, ribbons fell off and crumpled. The lights dimmed further with every time that she whimpered.
Each time she moved, limbs twitching violently as she struggled, something red glimmered in the sunlight drifting in from other cells. At first, Lilin didn’t know what to think of either fact. She felt a strange urge to help her, but upon eyeing the other end of the hall, she forgot all about it with a crazy giggle.
“Hi, Atrion!” she cried, waving frantically.
The tiny Nocturne appeared as soon as she called his name, brushing his digits on his scales to wipe off any dust or germs before coming towards her. He looked indifferent, for once, rather than furious or mischievous or cunning. She supposed it was because he was free of his own confinement.
“Hello, Lilin,” he purred, flying up to stare her in the face because of their height difference. Even if she’d wanted to, she knew better than to back down. It was why they got along so well. “Want some help?”
She grinned and bopped him on the head. In the process, she risked losing her paw to his bite. “If you wouldn’t mind, Atry.”
Atrion obliged, picking up Laranja’s book and brushing off the dirt clinging to it for dear life. He too ignored her twitching, moaning figure, refusing to touch her and even snarling at her when she reached for him. The poor dear looked desperate, face crinkling and breaths hitching. The pain she’s in must be horrible.
With a few soft words spoken in a tongue she couldn’t understand, the door clicked. Lilin pulled it open with excitement and threw her arms around a floating Atrion, who merely groaned at her act of random kindness. “Thank you for setting me free.”
“I might be evil,” he hissed, quickly wriggling out of her grasp, “but I don’t betray. There’s a difference.”
Lilin tilted her head in wonder, eyes wide. “There is?”
“Mhm.”
“Looks like I’m going to need a new dictionary.”
He shook his head and passed her Laranja’s book. It was full of runes she didn’t know about and could barely pronounce. She tried for the life of her to try and get Laranja to levitate into the cell, or to make her pass out. Instead an invisible paw flicked Atrion down the hall and into the wall at the end. A choked laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
As soon as Atrion turned to glare at her, she hid her face behind the book. “I’m sorry, I’m new to spell-casting!”
“You flicked me!”
“I’m sorry!”
“You better be!” Scowling, he flew towards her and ripped the book from her paws, much to her pouting. “I’ll do the spell-casting, you do the talking. Okay?”
“But—”
“It’s either a yes or a no.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine.”
"You also know Dolor's going to kill you for not telling her the plan about what happened two weeks ago, don't you?"
Lilin nodded. "Yup."
Atrion grinned. “Good, now let’s go before we miss our chance.”
Nodding, Lilin led the way through the maze of walls underneath the lair. Atrion followed for a few minutes before getting bored, deciding to wait for her above. As a mere soul without physical form—more like a poltergeist than a true demon such as herself—he had the ability and the privilege to do so. She couldn’t blame him. In a labyrinth such as this, it was easy to get lost.
Lilin could only thank her sense of direction for knowing the way.
Soon enough, she came to a stairwell amid yet another row of cells—it was the thirteenth row, three doors down; she’d counted before in footfalls—that led up to the guardhouse. It was a more modern building within the Society of Souls, accompanying their disgustingly beautiful marble and white stone skyscrapers.The library with its gold-sheeted roofing, marble-white pillars holding the overhang up and tiled flooring leading up to a pair of grand dark wood doors was one of them.
The guardhouse, after peeking inside to make sure no one was around, wasn’t much different, except it was in much darker colours. Silver lined the door she cracked open and carefully closed, with dark grey stone and obsidian covering the floor. Silver even lined the windows in paint, gold flecks bouncing the sunlight into her eyes. The only colour in the room was the golden and bronze armour standing proudly on armour stands, their scarves hanging down to the knees of their boots. In the sunlight, you could see the glistening ofProtection runes on the chest plate and helmet.
Her Cleaver hung in the midst of it all, on one of a few coat hooks opposite the door she’d closed. Other spare weapons swung there, too, polished to a shine and sharpened on whetstone just hours ago. Sadly, they hadn’t done her any favours. Her blade was the odd one out; dulled by years of use and stained with the blood she’d spilled.
Lilin smirked, edging closer to it and gently unhooking its scabbard from the hook. The weight of it was a comfort in a time of uncertainty, especially as she strapped it to her waist and hopped around to feel it bounce against her legs and tail. At least no one will miss it, she thought, her smile growing into a grin with a hint of malicious intent.
Without a second more of bouncing around, she scampered towards one of the two entrances and left. In good time, too, for just as she left, she eyed Discord entering the guardhouse, no doubt to pick up a weapon or maybe Laranja to relieve her of her post. His claws clacked on the cobblestone pavement, his golden headdress glistening in the sun.
Pulling a face, she raced off over the grass. Her feet pounded against the earth and her pants echoed in her ears before long. Lace rustled and Cleaver swung at her hip. Before long, she decided to fly, eyeing the library in a keen, disapproving gaze. It looked too beautiful to be the prison of her master.
Atrion awaited her at the top of the library, eyeing her with a raised eyebrow. When she inquired what he stared at her for, he responded with his own question. “Why didn’t you just fly to begin with?”
“Too much attention,” she wheezed, falling against the glass dome of the library. A huge hole still sat in its centre from when both Eris and her guard smashed through to get to it. Ultimately, Dolor would’ve escaped that day if it wasn’t for the fact that Folia tricked them both. She had to admit that violence wasn’t his specialty, not even now after two weeks of being trapped in a rotting cell, and yet he must be ahead of them by a couple of steps.
She just hoped that he didn’t foresee this.
“You ready?” Atrion inquired, digits itching to carve and call out his favourite spell; the one he’d used on Laranja.
Lilin grinned, insanity in her eyes. “Do it.”
Quietly, he began to utter the spell as she fell through the hole, spread her wings halfway down and landed on the floor with surprising grace. Still, despite her theatrics, she teetered slightly on her feet, prompting Folia to raise his eyebrow at her. For some reason, his armour’s runes glistened brighter today. She wanted to believe that Atrion had taken care of them like she asked of him.
Folia stood in front of her, evidently astounded, and poor Dolor was on the floor, groaning and shuddering in agony from her tumours. Her lei and crown of roses had died from the mistreatment of their wearer. Even the jewellery looked dim, tinkling slightly with every twitch.
She wasn’t surprised when her paws balled into fists.
“How did you get out?” Folia asked in monotone, stepping over Dolor, even when she padded uselessly at his foot to keep him from getting to her.
Lilin backed away, grinning. “A dear friend of mine.”
Just as Folia looked up, peering at the glass, Atrion bounced the book off of his head. It dropped at her feet, leather-back cover dusting within seconds. She scooped it up and ran over to Dolor. Atrion distracted Folia as she did by launching items—mostly books and Dolor’s vases—at him from the shelves of the bookcases. It didn’t take long to sit beside her master, brushing her mane out of the way of her face.
Her heart sank at the sight of it. Pain-filled tears streamed down her face, her lips dry and her tumours bulging dangerously on her jaw and neck. The glint in her creased red eyes was unnatural for her, too. They were begging her for help.
Lilin couldn’t help herself. She smiled. “How are you feeling?”
“Damn... damn you...” she growled feebly, attempting to bat her away until she cried out in pain.
She opened the book to the healing runes with nervous urgency and sketched it onto Dolor’s stomach, muttering the words carefully so she didn’t burn her or make her bleed or grow vines from her armpits. Each second that the rune burnt into her skin made her master whimper. Lilin had to admit it was despairing to listen to. It was rare for her master to sound so weak, and it only made her feel uncomfortable to know how much pain she was in.
“Lilin, hurry up!” Atrion screamed at her from across the library, a zap accompanying his words. Folia’s using magic.
“Why didn’t your spell work?” she snarled, focusing on the ancient tongue before her. “I thought you disrupted his Protection runes!
“I don’t know, just hurry it up!”
Lilin did as she was told, making sure she didn’t stumble over the words. It took a few seconds more to finish it. When she did, she grinned at Dolor’s sigh of relief. She couldn’t stand yet, that she knew, so Lilin would have to near-carry her. She got to work straight away, ignoring the fight and shrieks at the other end of the library. Dropping the book was the hardest part, but she had nowhere for it to go.
“Come on, Dolor,” she murmured, wrapping her arm around her shoulders and hauling her to her unsteady feet. “We need to go.”
“It hurts,” Dolor wheezed, using her as a prop to lean on. Her bag swung low beside her hip, the fold open for whatever reason.
“Does it?”
Her master glared at her. “I’ll kill you.”
Lilin nodded, not wanting to take her master up on that. After all, she often followed through with her threats. The only time she didn’t was when she was too weak to do so. They made their way towards the entrance, no runes blocking the door from opening. Dolor inevitably dragged her feet and hissed through her teeth whenever she or Lilin accidentally touched a tumour.
“Oh, no you don’t,” she head Folia cry from behind her, footsteps rushing towards her. They echoed around the space, heightened her fear. She wasn’t about to let this fail again. Not when they were so close... again.
He cried out as something thudded. Lilin took that opportunity to lay Dolor gently on the ground to rest and turn around, tugging her Cleaver free from its scabbard. Folia glared at her. Atrion growled on the floor, hissing beneath runic bounds thrown over him. They didn’t burn him, she knew that much; he just hated escaping from one confinement and entering another. As you do.
“Go back to your cell, or go back to the Forum,” he sneered, poison dripping from his words. “Dolor isn’t leaving. She’ll endanger everyone.”
“Personally, Folia,” she drawled, swinging her blade around for show, “as a dead dragon, I couldn’t care less who she will endanger.”
He sighed and clicked his digits. Something wrapped around her neck in an instant, choking her slightly. She refused to drop her Cleaver. Even as Folia’s wire-like spell wrapped tighter around her neck, she kept it in a tight grip. She wasn’t about to give up without a fight. They were too close to winning for that option.
“Fight me like an Imperial,” she said, her voice squeaky. “Don’t use ridiculous magic just because you won’t win.”
Folia’s mouth twitched. She couldn’t tell if he was supposed to grin or frown. Either way, the grip around her neck grew tighter. “You’ll stay here with Dolor. Your friend—” He spat the term friend out like it was a horrid blueberry he’d just eaten, glaring at Atrion. “—will go back to his confinement.”
“Will I?” Atrion snarled back, struggling against his golden wires. As a ghost, you’d think he’d be able to get through them with ease. But they seemed specifically designed for those like him. Lilin, in that moment, felt slightly sorry for him. She’d dragged him into this, and now he was to suffer for it.
“Yes.”
The tight, thin wire tightened within a second, cutting off her oxygen. Lilin dropped her Cleaver, clawing at the magic in a feeble attempt to relieve the pressure. She fell to her knees and choked, eyes burning.
The wire burned into her neck. That’s going to leave a mark.
“You can forget Dolor getting her Painkiller back,” he muttered, using Atrion’s ropes to drag him towards the door. It dug viciously into his wings. From what she could see through bleary eyes, it deepened ridges in them that may well serve as a reminder. “After all, I was about to debate that with her before I was rudely interrupted.”
“Please,” Lilin cried, falling to her elbows. “Give it to her. I’ll behave!”
Folia had the audacity to throw her a sympathetic, even guilty, look from the doorway. “I can’t do that, Lilin. Not until I know that you won’t try this idiotic stunt again.”
“I’ll... behave!”
He nodded, frowning. “I know.”
Atrion and Folia left before she could beg and plead for longer. She caught her companion’s eye just as he left. Without knowing why, she murmured a soft, “I’m sorry,” in the hopes that he’d understand.
He mouthed a strange phrase, determination in his glowing, furiously-red eyes. Dolor has it. Get out of here.
The door closed and the wire snapped around her neck, allowing her to catch her breath. She shuddered with each one. Her eyes were wide, tears flowed, and warmth trickled down her neck. As soon as she felt able to look her in the eye, she turned to look at Dolor and half expected despair or loss of hope.
Despite her heavy-lidded gaze, bags almost as blue as a bruise under her eyes, she looked furious with her and with the world. Lilin couldn’t blame her. Twice in a month this had happened. She didn’t know when they’d get another chance, if ever. She almost felt shame for even attempting with so much at stake.
“At least we share the library now, right?” she panted, crawling over to her.
“My patience is going to wear thin from your jabbering,” Dolor growled, a smile playing at her lips. “Though, I’m not going to kill you here. Hopefully, anyway.”
Your optimism is adorable; she wanted to tell her master. Instead, Lilin collapsed onto her stomach, the only comfortable place without a single tumour. Despite being dead, she felt warm, like a Heated rune teddy bear. She curled up against it, willing her body to soak some up for herself.
As something softly bapped her head, Lilin refused to look up until she did it again. She expected a big rose or a notebook or one of the many books previously strewn all over the floor from her master’s attempts at finding a rune. Awe overcame her. So that’s why the flap was open...?
The lucky devil must’ve stolen Laranja’s book from the floor and tucked it away in her bag without her realising. How, she didn’t know. She wouldn’t get an answer either. Dolor loved using the same line repeatedly as they worked together years ago; “A magician never gives away her secrets, much less to her beloved assistant.”
Lilin never understood why until recently, alone in her cell one night when she couldn’t sleep; it was to keep up the ruse of magic and wonder during such gruelling work. Very philosophical of her.
Her master took in her amazement and giggled. “Serves you right for lowering your guard, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know whether to kiss you or smack you for being smarter than me,” she mumbled, grimacing only slightly against a sudden pain in her neck, as if the wire had returned. An idea sparked in her mind. "Then again, a smack would warrant my second death, so may I kiss you?"
“Later, my Lilin.” Dolor threw her exhausted, dim gaze towards the door as Lilin smirked, with the full knowledge that the runes returned as they spoke. Her paw absentmindedly stroked the bandage wrapping around Lilin's snout. “For now, we rest. We’re going to have a long night ahead of us.”