I LOVE MY SMOL SONS

Bonus: 

you know why I like redemption narratives? because a redemption narrative says: no matter how broken or wrong or bad or stupid or ridiculous or harmful or sad or terrible, you can atone.

there is still a road back. it might be rocky and steep, complicated and messy. walking it may take all your life. you may lose your foothold, slip and fall back into the abyss, but the wall is still there. the ascent is still there. hard is not the same as impossible.

You guys hang with me! This is my first time writing for this! Taken from something someone sent @taylor-tut (I’m too lazy to go find it right this second.)

The ground underneath Farran’s boots trembles with each heavy step that kicks up dirt; it’s almost as if the ground’s surface is struggling to support Farran’s weight, with it shaking hard enough that Farran stumbles with each step. 

Worry tugs at Farran’s heart at the mere thought that the Earth around him is suffering, and he dares a glance down against dizzy vision toward the trembling surface beneath him; though, the mere movement of shooting his gaze downwards leaves his head reeling, and in just seconds, he’s moving toward the ground with rapid speed. 

He lands on the ground with a light grunt, but when he tries to push himself up, his arms tremble and falter until he’s falling back into the dirt with furrowed brows and a weak cough. The ground is cool against his bare arms, uncomfortably cool despite the warm sun beating down overhead, and he curls into himself and squeezes his eyes shut in a poor attempt to combat the unsteady waves of dizziness coating his vision. 

He’s not sure when it happens; it’s so subtle that it doesn’t even register within his hazy mind. One minute he’s lying with his knees drawn to his chest and trembling as hard as the ground beneath him, and the next minute, everything goes dark. 

*****

“And, so, I was like, ‘Naida, you are stunning! Just go talk to her!’ And, I nudged Naida; she was blushing like mad, let me tell you. She was redder than-”

“Wait.” Emily slows to a stop with one hand raised as she eyes the cluster of bushes in front of her. The normally lush, green shrubs are void of color, with the small leaves taking on a grey tinge that pulls a hard frown to Emily’s face. “What’s wrong with those bushes?” 

Aira steps forward, brows pulled together in concern, and brushes light fingertips over the cold leaves. “I’ve seen this before,” she mutters as she racks her brain for the missing puzzle pieces that will come together to form an answer. “I think something was wrong with Farran.” 

Glancing around, Emily scans the surrounding area, noticing how the drop off of color is seemingly directed to the few bushes in front of them. She steps forward and begins wordlessly pushing her way through the bushes, and Aira is quick to catch on and follow. 

They reach the other side with leaves and twigs sticking out of their hair at all angles, but neither notices; neither even moves or breathes at the sight before them. 

The entire area is a deep grey. The plants, trees, and flowers are all slumping and quivering, and in the center of the small clearing lies Farran, shaking hard and face pinched together as if in pain. 

“What-”

“Farran!” Aira storms toward him, leaving a cloud of dust with her quick steps, and drops to her knees beside the unresponsive elf. 

Emily is quick to follow, yet she remains standing just behind Aira, unsure of what she could possibly do. She’s never seen an elf down before, not like this. She’s seen her fair share of injuries, but this physically feels different. The air around her feels heavy and cold, almost suffocating, and Farran seems to be the center source. 

Aira remembers now; she remembers the last time this happened as if it was just yesterday. Even elves can get sick, but Farran always seems to get hit the hardest, and one hand to Farran’s burning forehead speaks volumes toward the brunet’s illness. 

“He’s very sick,” Aira mutters, voice laced with a deep-set worry that extends to Emily. 

Emily drops to her knees, reaching a shaking palm to Farran’s forehead, only to hiss harshly at the heat and jerk her hand back. “He’s definitely running a fever. What do we do?” Emily looks to Aira for an answer, but she finds that Aira’s eyes have slipped closed, and the previous concern coating the elf’s face has faded away to a calm, focused expression. 

Aira holds both hands out, palms facing upwards, and breathes, in and out, in and out, in and out, until Farran is rising slowly from the ground. She moves with him, slowly standing as the brunet’s body rises higher. 

“We take him back,” Aira finally answers, and determination fills Emily’s eyes as she starts forward to clear a path for Aira and Farran. 

*****

Farran comes to on a soft, warm surface with something blessedly cool draped across his forehead. A lazy smile creeps at his lips as he slowly cracks both eyes open, blinking slowly until the dark spots dotting his vision fade away. 

“Farran?” 

One glance to the left, and there’s Emily, a lot of her. The girl’s face is hovering close to his, and he blinks quickly in surprise. “Emily,” he rasps out, smile tugging into a faint frown at the pain that scrapes against his throat. “What…?” 

“Aira and I found you passed out in the woods. You’re very sick.” Emily informs with a frown as she absently smooths down the small cloth draped across Farran’s forehead. 

“Ah,” Farran says, dragging his gaze toward the wooden ceiling above him. Now that it’s mentioned, he remembers feeling very off for a few days, but pegging that on illness was the last thing on his mind. He’s not one to get sick often, none of the elves do, but his body is always hit the hardest. 

“Sorry to worry you,” he adds, bringing his gaze back to Emily’s worried eyes. “I’ll be perfectly fine in a few days!” 

Emily sits back in her small chair, nodding slowly. “That’s what Azari said; I just wanted to stay and make sure.”

Another soft smile plays on Farran’s lips. “I assume the others are brewing up some medicine?” 

“Yeah. They are butting heads on what to make, so I came in here.” 

If Farran listens closely, he can hear the faint bickering of his three friends, and his smile grows with a faint warmth. “Thanks for helping me,” he tells Emily, and she smiles wide.