Patchwork Wings

The witch looked him over suspiciously. "How many Redbulls have you had today?"

He held up all of his fingers on one hand.

"Frankie we've talked about-"

Then two on his other hand.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The hero’s nails dragged slowly across the metal, the sound rough and grating. “And here I was hoping you might actually change your ways.”

“Stay away from me,” he growled. “You’ve already locked me up, isn’t that enough?”

She reached out, lightning-quick, and grabbed his jaw. He wished he’d known she was that fast when he’d made a break for it. “If the past month didn’t prevent your escape attempt, why should I believe the past five minutes have changed you?”

“I don’t think you realize how convincing you are at this exact moment.” Her nails dug into his throat as he spoke.

She arched an eyebrow. “Very well. If you’re a new man, then tell me your name.”

That was a fight they’d been having since she’d locked him up the first time. His name was Alex. She’d insisted he call himself Dagger. He’d insisted she go to hell. He’d do time without complaining, but he’d rather die than let some self-righteous hero rewrite his identity.

Suddenly, with her razor sharp nails just a twitch away from drawing blood, he wasn’t so sure.

“Well?” she asked, her grip tightening.

“Dagger!” He froze until he felt her grip relax. “My name is Dagger,” he repeated.

She looked into his eyes for a long moment, then nodded, releasing him. “Then get some rest. We’ll resume rehabilitation in the morning.” She turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment at the cell door. “But so much as speak out of turn, and I will make an object lesson of you in front of the other prisoners. Am I clear?”

He nodded dumbly.

“Good. Sleep well.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The hero’s nails dragged slowly across the metal, the sound rough and grating. “And here I was hoping you might actually change your ways.”

“Stay away from me,” he growled. “You’ve already locked me up, isn’t that enough?”

She reached out, lightning-quick, and grabbed his jaw. He wished he’d known she was that fast when he’d made a break for it. “If the past month didn’t prevent your escape attempt, why should I believe the past five minutes have changed you?”

“I don’t think you realize how convincing you are at this exact moment.” Her nails dug into his throat as he spoke.

She arched an eyebrow. “Very well. If you’re a new man, then tell me your name.”

That was a fight they’d been having since she’d locked him up the first time. His name was Alex. She’d insisted he call himself Dagger. He’d insisted she go to hell. He’d do time without complaining, but he’d rather die than let some self-righteous hero rewrite his identity.

Suddenly, with her razor sharp nails just a twitch away from drawing blood, he wasn’t so sure.

“Well?” she asked, her grip tightening.

“Dagger!” He froze until he felt her grip relax. “My name is Dagger,” he repeated.

She looked into his eyes for a long moment, then nodded, releasing him. “Then get some rest. We’ll resume rehabilitation in the morning.” She turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment at the cell door. “But so much as speak out of turn, and I will make an object lesson of you in front of the other prisoners. Am I clear?”

He nodded dumbly.

“Good. Sleep well.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The hero’s nails dragged slowly across the metal, the sound rough and grating. “And here I was hoping you might actually change your ways.”

“Stay away from me,” he growled. “You’ve already locked me up, isn’t that enough?”

She reached out, lightning-quick, and grabbed his jaw. He wished he'd known she was that fast when he'd made a break for it. "If the past month didn't prevent your escape attempt, why should I believe the past five minutes have changed you?"

"I don't think you realize how convincing you are at this exact moment." Her nails dug into his throat as he spoke.

She arched an eyebrow. "Very well. If you're a new man, then tell me your name."

That was a fight they'd been having since she'd locked him up the first time. His name was Alex. She'd insisted he call himself Dagger. He'd insisted she go to hell. He'd do time without complaining, but he'd rather die than let some self-righteous hero rewrite his identity.

Suddenly, with her razor sharp nails just a twitch away from drawing blood, he wasn't so sure.

"Well?" she asked, her grip tightening.

"Dagger!" He froze until he felt her grip relax. "My name is Dagger," he repeated.

She looked into his eyes for a long moment, then nodded, releasing him. "Then get some rest. We'll resume rehabilitation in the morning." She turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment at the cell door. "But so much as speak out of turn, and I will make an object lesson of you in front of the other prisoners. Am I clear?"

He nodded dumbly.

"Good. Sleep well."

Please don’t repost (stealing isn’t cool, but reblog if you wish) <3 <3

“I love you, please don’t go.”

“Stay here tonight.”

“Please don’t walk out of that door.”

“I thought things were going great.”

“Don’t you love me?”

“You make every day worth living.”

“I’ll keep you warm.”

“I’m never letting you go.”

“You meant too much to me.”

“I won’t let you.”

“How could you ask me that?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you, you’re safe with me.”

“You look amazing tonight.”

“Shouldn’t you be with him/her?”

“I’ve got you.”

“I can’t sleep, can I stay here?”

“It’s late.  Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“How are you feeling today?”

“You look amazing tonight.”

“We’ll figure this out.”

“This isn’t goodbye.”

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?”

“Wanna go grab a drink?”

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

“Here, let me help you.”

“Kiss me.”

“I care about you.”

“You could have warned me!”

“That was unexpected.”

“You haven’t lost me.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Don’t cry.”

“Please don’t do this.”

“You make me feel safe.”

“You’ve shown me what love can feel like.”

“Thank you, for everything.”

“All I wanted was for you to be happy.”

“I can’t do this on my own.”

“I wasn’t lying when I said that I loved you.”

“Don’t be afraid.”

“You’re always on my mind.”

“You have no idea how much I want you right now.”

“You’ve always felt like home.”

“I can’t imagine this world without you.”

“Dance with me.”

“Trust me.”

“Why are you crying?”

“Who hurt you?”

“Nothing is wrong with you.”

“You make me feel alive.”

“I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”

“Who cares about what they think?”

“Let’s go.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“You’ve always got me.”

“I’ve waited for this moment for a long time.”

“Is this okay?”

“You look like you could use a hug.”

“Did you need something?”

“Do you have a ride home?”

“I am home.”

“What happened back there?”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“Why me?”

“I’m right where I belong.”

“Fine.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

“You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?”

“You need sleep.”

“Excuse me?”

“What are you doing?”

“What did you expect?”

“You’re not alone.”

“We’re meant for each other.”

“You’re worth it.”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

“I’ve always been honest with you.”

“It’s cold, you should take my jacket.”

“Just breathe, okay?”

“When I’m with you, I’m happy.”

“Going somewhere?”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Don’t be scared, I’m right here.”

“You’re so adorable.”

“I’m better, now that you’re here.”

“I could never forget you.”

“Forget it.”

“That’s in the past.”

“You make me happy.”

“You’re more than that.”

“I won’t lose you too.”

“Come cuddle.”

“Can’t you stay a little longer?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I’ve had enough.”

“I fell in love with you, not them.”

She would have thought it was a hostage situation if not for the shock on the villain’s face. He pushed the girl behind his legs, placing himself between the heroine and his daughter. 

"Yes," she said, with a pointed smile. "I'm lucky enough to have Emily for Math, Science, and Social Studies. She's curious, and a very quick learner. I plan to recommend her for our honors program at the end of the year."

"That's wonderful news," her rival said, "Though I expect nothing less from my little Shining Star." She thought she heard a moment of real affection in his voice, and Emily's face lit up with pride.

It took her a second to process. She couldn't reconcile the image of Heresy - the chaotic villain known for inciting mob violence and wearing excessive eyeliner - with the proud, sweater-vested dad in front of her.

"Well... yes, you should both be very proud," she said, recovering.

She saw his eyes shift, the same way they did when he was fighting. He was evaluating the situation, evaluating her. Then his stilted smile faltered. "That isn't what you called me in to discuss, though, is it."

"No." She took a deep breath. With any other parent, there would be no easy way to say this. But with Heresy? Telling him was liable to get the school burned to the ground. She looked to Emily, and steeled herself for a fight, if it came to that. "I called you in to make you aware of a situation that's come up in the classroom. Several of Emily's classmates have taken to bullying her during recess, and last week it escalated and she was shoved into the sandbox."

Heresy went rigid, and she could see the fury building behind his eyes. "What are their names?" he asked.

"I am not allowed to give out that information. I've called their parents, and they've been suspended for a week. Emily did the right thing by telling us, and we've taken corrective action."

"You're telling me that's justice? They hurt my daughter, and they get sent home for a week?"

Emily looked up at her father with worried eyes. Ms. Gonzales said slowly, "I'm telling you that's how the administration is handling this. This isn't a court of law, this is a school. We're in the business of teaching. When they return, they'll be enrolled in an anti-bullying course."

"But they'll be returning -"

"Mr. Alderman," she replied, looking him square in the eyes, "there's not a one of us in this room that hasn't benefitted from a second chance."

He froze, then shifted in his chair. "I want her to be safe. She can't be safe surrounded by enemies." His voice was quieter, but he returned her stare.

Suddenly, Ms. Gonzales' heart sank. He couldn't be suggesting that she'd be a threat to his child. They were rivals, but he had to know her better than that. "She'll be safe. I promise."

"She'll be safer in another classroom. Maybe another school altogether." He stood, holding out a hand to his daughter. "Come on Emmy, let's get out of here."

Everyone in your family knew the stories, though their belief in them began to fade over the generations. You had always found yourself oddly drawn to the story, and as a child, you would constantly sneak away from your nanny, just to explore the darkest places of your home.

One evening, having fled from a rather frustrated nanny while she was focusing on your siblings, you came across a small door, hidden behind one of the tapestries. Curiosity getting the best of you, you had crawled into it happily, torch in hand, the door a perfect size for your young body.

To your surprise, you had found an entire new level to the home, though it looked to be badly scorched in places, merely acting as supports for the floors above. Never having been afraid of dark places, you eagerly set about exploring, curious at the strange feeling in the air. 

It wasn’t long before you found it.

In the centre of the floor in what seemed to be the heart of the building, you found a large circular vault, set deeply into the ground and covered in symbols and designs. Somehow, you could feel that something was alive in there, something old, and it dragged up all your memories of the stories you were told. 

A feeling washed over you, and you knew that it was suddenly aware of you. Instantly, a boom sounded as the vault shuddered, startling you enough to have you racing back up into the main house, thoroughly spooked. Unfortunately, you were a rather stubborn thing.

It didn’t take all that long for you to muster up the courage to sneak away the next day, and go back down. Again what ever it was that was trapped, seemed to become aware of you quickly, once again making the vault shudder. This time however, you didn’t go far.  

Every time you would try to get too close, the vault would shudder again, as if trying to warn you away and scare you off, but eventually it gave up, a feeling of resignation floating in the air. With your fearless personality and never ending curiosity, you started to sneak down to the vault when ever you got a chance.

You’re not sure when you started babbling away or asking questions to the one inside, but either way, it became something of a routine over the years, though you never got a verbal reply. You had a feeling that they couldn’t reply, nor move particularly well, it often left you questioning just how complete their bindings were. 

Years later, now reaching adulthood, and still just as fearless and hard to control, you lay atop the silent vault. This place had become comforting to you, somewhere to hide from your cold family and the never ending rules. 

A wave of comfort rolled over you, as if they sensed your turmoil, and absently you wondered if anyone else in your family line had ever been able to feel the emotions of the creature locked within, or if it was simply something you made up in your head out of loneliness. Sighing shakily, you traced your fingers over the dusty symbols.

“They’re going to force me to marry.” You said finally, and at once felt all go still, the one within the vault listening intently.

“It’s crazy, especially in this day and age… but they’re not playing around. They already have someone picked out. Someone that can teach me some manners”  You murmured bitterly, mocking their tone of voice.

Something sharp and angry flared across your strange bond for a moment, before it once again went silent, the being within, trying to control their emotions. Silence fell again for a while, and to your shock, you realised you were crying, something you hadn’t done since you were a babe.

“I don’t know what to do….. I….I’m scared” You said honestly, voice cracking.

After a long moment, you felt a flood of emotion surge through your link. Shock, anxiety, excitement... then relief. The emotion shifted to trepidation, then regret. Was the entity apologizing?

You realized why when the bond intensified, seizing your mind. The world around you disappeared as a series of images flooded your mind. Slowly, they became more coherent.

The room around you was transformed. The walls were intact, covered in intricate carvings and hung with tapestries. On the far end, where the floor had long since fallen way in your time, stood a dais. A figure stood before a throne of obsidian, tendrils of darkness rolling off of him like smoke.

The room shuddered. He watched mortar fall from the ceiling, his face hidden by darkness but his posture betraying resignation. 

Another crash brought part of the ceiling down behind you, and cold light spilled onto the flagstones. Shortly after, a cacophony arose as someone took a battering ram to the door of the great hall. Eventually, the oak gave way.

Men in archaic armor spilled into the room, led by someone who looked not unlike your father. “This is the end, monster. Yield and spare yourself.”

The figure at the throne looked around at the intruders, then dropped into a feral stance, roaring in an inhuman voice. Preternatural darkness spilled from his aura, blocking out the sunlight.

Your ancestor yelled a command. Somewhere in the darkness, fighting began. 

Screams rang out beyond your line of sight. Every once in a while, the floor would shake and you heard stone crumbling.  A young man fell in front of you, mortally wounded. You scrambled back, and were narrowly missed by a boulder that slammed through the flagstone in front of you.

Some time later - minutes or hours, you couldn’t be sure - you heard a woman yell a challenge. She charged out of the darkness and knelt next to you, her eyes distant and arcane words spilling from her lips. You studied her face. It was almost familiar. She drew a knife and scored her wrist, spilling blood on the edge of the hole in the floor. 

The moment her blood hit the ground, the darkness around you coalesced and assailed her.

Her voice became strained, and she screamed in the common tongue, “Thrice I bind you!” She fought a hand free of the shadows wrestling her and pressed it to the spot where her blood had spilled. “By the blood of my family, I bind you! By your name, Halfsable, I bind you! By my will in this moment of need, I bind you!”

One final time, the room shuddered, and all noise stopped. The darkness started to collapse in on itself, flowing towards the hole like water down a drain. As she was released, the woman fell to her side, exhausted. When the last scraps of shadow were gone, the sounds of the moaning wounded and the crumbling building came back. On the dais, a crumpled figure lied where the shadow-veiled man had stood.

Battle-battered soldiers ran to the fallen man, weapons at the ready. After a moment of watching him stir feebly, the one in charge barked an order and they set about binding him hand and foot. A soldier came to your side and bound the woman’s wrist. “Be sure you gag him,” the woman said weakly, “and pave over the hole once he’s inside. Ensure there is no way he can get free.”

The soldiers followed her orders, and dragged the bound man to the pit. She met his eyes, and snarled, “I trusted you. I won’t give anyone else a chance to make that mistake.”

The man’s eyes were pleading as the soldiers pitched him into the pit.

Your vision came back to find the room as it had always been. Your bond shrank to a trickle, and you could feel the entity on the other end. He - Halfsable - felt penitent, nervous, expectant. It felt like he was posing a question he wasn’t sure he should ask, or that you would answer.

Already shaken by your parents’ ultimatum, you weren’t sure how to handle this flood of information. Shakily, you stood and started to leave. You felt disappointment, then resignation, then silence as the bond closed.

***

Days later, you found yourself back in the ruined room. You sat on the grate, arms wrapped around yourself, feeling numb. Tomorrow, you would be married. You spoke to the grate like you always did.  “I tried everything. I said I’d go to an etiquette school, start attending balls. It didn’t work. I tried to be happy with it, even. He’s not bad looking, even if he has stern eyes.”

Tears welled at the corners of your eyes. “But I can’t be happy like this, can I? They wouldn’t even let me pick my own gown. I don’t want the rest of my life to be like this. I can’t do this any more.”

Nothing came across the bond. You felt desperately alone.

After a long silence, you found yourself thinking about what the woman said. You didn’t know much about magic, but the spell seemed simple, if powerful. It took until the eve of your wedding to admit it, but Halfsable was the only friend you had in the castle, the only one you confided in. Maybe if you freed him, he could help you.

It was a desperate thought, but then again, you were desperate. You had your knife out before the second thought came.

The woman said Halfsable had betrayed her, and you had no way of knowing how bad that had been. From the vision, it had been enough of an insult for your family to field an army.

But hadn’t your family betrayed you? Hadn’t they denied your every wish to betroth you for political convenience? Wouldn’t they do the same to your sisters, given the chance, and force your brother into the military?

You held your breath, and nicked your wrist. You barely scored yourself the first time, and started shaking as you tried again. This time, a thin trickle of blood fell onto the strange symbols in the floor.

The grate beneath you shuddered, and the bond opened again, flooding you with hope and confusion.

Voice shaking and small in the cavernous hall, you chanted, “Thrice I call you to me. By the blood of my family, I break your bindings. By your name, Halfsable, I break your bindings. By my will in this time of need, I break your bindings.”

Tendrils of shadow spilled out from beneath the grate, lifting it and you into the air. You flattened yourself against the metal as the darkness lifted it out of the way of the pit. Then, Halfsable’s magic receded.

You sat on the grate, transfixed by the intense energy spilling through your link. First you felt such relief that your knees went weak and you started to cry, then such intense vengeance that you shook with violent intent.

After a moment, you heard something clatter to the ground. Then there was the snapping sound of ropes fraying. Unable to shut the bond from your end, you watched dumbly as a dirty hand gripped the edge of the pit and Halfsable hauled himself up onto the flagstones.

He turned to you slowly. You looked for those eyes that had once pleaded with your ancestor, but his shroud of shadows was back. You felt more than saw him meet your eyes. He took a few steps towards you, and your own terror eclipsed his rage for a moment. You scrambled backwards.

He froze as if struck, and hissed. You stared at him as he heaved a rattling sigh. He coughed, then rasped in a voice that was beyond hoarse, “You... freed me... Child of the Witch. Tell me your will... old friend.”

It was to your credit that you’d always been quick on your feet. You knew as soon as he spoke the words that this may be your only chance to turn the course of your life, to take some power for yourself.

“Tomorrow, during the wedding, we take the house for ourselves.”