Rising from the Ashes

Sometimes it seems impossible to take a break.

This is one of those times. The rogue life had seemed so simple. All that mattered was surviving. The moment Elenora moved to a pack, she had figured out that Vermont had kidnapped her from her crib and murdered her parents. Not only that but Nakoa Bardrick, a man that despises rogues, is her mate.

There also happens to be a rogue Alpha out there somewhere.

Just as she started getting comfortable or at least started handling what she had on her plate, Elenora found out Vermont is still alive.

That led to her making the decision to reunite with Charlotte which then led to a witch making the attempt to kidnap her best friend while she was away.

Everything seems crazy. Insane. Out of this world. Part of Elenora wants to run as far as she possibly can. Mia keeps telling her that some of these things aren’t her problem. The rogue Alpha is not her problem. Except he is, isn’t he? Rogues still come to circle the border and ask about her. That can either be Vermont or the Rogue Alpha.

Nakoa is definitely her problem and though she cannot forget their time together, away from the packs, she can’t forget that he is an Alpha either. An Alpha! Like it or not that complicates everything. There is no relationship with Nakoa without her having to step up as Luna to the pack. The only alternative is asking him to leave his pack but that....that is unspeakable. Nakoa Bardrick is an Alpha through and through and to ask him to give that up is a terribly selfish thing to do.

He might even do it but he would grow to resent her, of that Elenora is sure. “Did you come to stare darling or did you come to ask what I wanted with the pretty little blonde?” The woman smiles, all yellow teeth. She looks almost...decayed. Her cheeks hollowed out and her hair not all there. Her head is full of bald spots and her body looks so frail she looks like she might break apart if you touch her wrong.

“How did this woman nearly kidnap Mia?” Elenora turns towards the warrior standing at the wall. A young fellow who doesn’t seem able to stand still. He looks like he wants to run and his eyes always seems to land on the witch. He’s scared of her. His fear floats in the air.

“I think it’s magic ma’am. Dark magic. She was not young earlier but it seems she’s....decaying.”

“Decaying? She’s not dead.” Elenora turns her attention back to the witch “Not exactly very lively but she’s still breathing.” The witch merely smiles back at her and a tooth falls out. It looks like something out of a horror film, the way another tooth falls out and blood trails down her face, on her expensive looking dress.

The warrior shifts towards her and pulls up a picture. Her picture Elenora assumes. She looks years younger in it. Still old but definitely younger. Not quite healthy but she doesn’t look to be skin and bones “This is her yesterday ma’am. This is her the day before that.” The next picture is almost unrecognizable “The first night we didn’t take a picture but she looked unrecognizable to this. She’s decaying miss. I think it’s dark magic and if I’m being honest, it creeps me the hell out.”

The witch starts to laugh and he puts his phone away before moving back to his spot. I swallow and turn to the woman. “Just ask darling. That’s all that is needed. I’ll answer what I can.” Her voice doesn’t sound evil. In fact it sounds like the voice of a sweet elderly woman. She sounds like Grandmother May had and the thought of it brings back the pain of her betrayal. There’s another thing that had happened or at least it had happened years ago and she just discovered it.

“Who told you to kidnap my friend?”

“I volunteered for it darling. See I’ve heard stories of you. Word of a rogue, with trails of ash behind her. I heard you had a friend and I knew that if I found her then I would find you.”

“Why were you looking for me?” She opens her mouth and then she starts screaming. She falls to the ground and a sickening crack echoes across the cell. The crack of a bone breaking. That’s how weak this woman is. She doesn’t stop screaming and she doesn’t stop shaking but when she does she looks about ten years older “I cannot say.” She croaks out and she can’t seem to breathe “A little girl in a crib” She whispers so quietly that it hardly reaches Elenora’s ears.

Elenora steps closer. Grips the bars and ignores the burn of wolfsbane, poisoning her flesh. “Not five months old. I was supposed to watch that girl, protect her with my life. I was the best. A warrior that couldn’t be matched. They trusted me.” Now the frail woman sobs, her pale blue eyes glowing “but he was too powerful and there were too many of them. I am sorry M-” And she starts screaming again. Then she starts to burn alive. Not at the hand of Elenora. Darkness reaches out like tentacles, resembling shadows as it laces itself through the flames and reaches for her frail body. Her screams only increase and then she shatters. Her body turning to ash and cracking apart like glass. Whatever type of magic that was, it had to of been forbidden.

How many different spells, different curses, had she endured for that. What curse would leave her decaying as the days go by? What spell would burn her alive for trying to speak something forbidden? What dark magic would reach for somebody like that? Shatter their body like glass? “Have you ever seen anything like that?” Elenora asks, staring at the spot the witch had been moments ago. Now all that is left is a dark patch in the stone.

“Has anybody? That’s ancient magic. Dark magic ma’am.” Silence fills the cell “What do you think it means? What was she talking about?” The warrior questions and he steps up beside her looking to be relived that she’s gone. Elenora doesn’t think he is a part if it. The curse whispers his emotions to her and though she had never liked the curse, she had grown to trust it.

He holds the same unease Elenora does. If you get close to dark magic, it leaves you feeling dirty. It’s like getting touched by something evil and you can’t forget it easily and you can’t wash the feeling away. It sticks on you. Clings to your skin. Pulls you towards it. Infects your mind. “Those are two very different questions kid. What I think it means? Somebody cursed her. Dark magic had wrapped around her and promised the most painful of ends if she were to break her end of the bargain.” As to what she was talking about.

If Elenora had a guess, the woman knew exactly who she was. The older woman knew who Vermont kidnapped her from. Now she is dead and with her, answers. “Do you know what she was talking about?” The warrior questions.

“Dark magic makes people go crazy. I don’t think she knows what she was talking about.” With that Elenora steps out of the cells. She hadn’t slept since Nakao Bardrick had dropped her off last night. In fact her worry had been on Mia who also hasn’t slept much. It’s hard to sleep in the same room you were nearly kidnapped in and so Elenora had offered up hers and promised she was there with her favorite set of knives.

Charlotte had showed up a couple hours after Mia knocked out only to crawl in bed with her and whisper about the things she had missed in the pack.

A lot had happened. She had spoken about the memorials Luna Jackson had held for the sake of all Vermont had killed. Charlotte told her about the warriors whispering their true loyalties in the darkness, their loyalties to Elenora who they see as the savior of the pack. Elenora had stopped Charlotte there. She doesn’t want to know about that. Not really. She just wants to forget Stonebridge exists.

Now Elenora walks through the darkness of the Bluemoon back and stops at the edge of the forest. Exactly one night had passed and Marcella wants nothing more than a run. A force shift will happen if Elenora doesn’t shift soon and so she stares at her arm, watches the red fur appear across her skin.

Then she runs and wishes with all her might that she could disappear and come back with all the answers to every question, to every problem that weigh her down.