#clearbrook:nightmare

The pain in her stomach was becoming unbearable, and Carina’s face was in a constant scowl. It had faded as she dealt with Eden’s nightmarish issues, but as soon as she had the opportunity to wander into the hallways, it had returned.

“Alles gut, Carina, alles — ah!” A sudden tightening in her lower stomach made Carina’s knees give out beneath her, and she crumpled to the floor. As she rocked herself forward and back on the floor, her fingers desperately clutching onto her stomach, she felt her torso becoming bloated. “Uhhh,” she groaned, closing her eyes tightly. “Little Liebling, what is the matter?” She spoke to her child still growing inside of her, a little child that had only begun to show their presence. Carina looked down to see her stomach had grown, and her little bump had turned into a big, huge, daunting bump.

My dearest Dakota, 

      I cannot explain how proud I am of you. The crops you sent us have been doing beautifully. I can't believe our little girl was able to create something so amazing and helpful. 

Dakota read over her mother's letter once more. She had to give a small smile. While most families had long since switched to computers and e-mail her mother had been as stubborn as any other earthbender. She still believed in the almost lost art of letter writing. Dakota's fingertips felt the thin paper as her eyes traced over her mother's script. 

The words began to twist and move in front of her eyes and the once familiar message began to change. 

     Dakota I don't know what you've done but you've ruined us. The crop failed. It all died within a few weeks of us planting. It was our whole crop Dakota. Everything. It's all gone. 

Dakota's eyes began to water, and she could feel her chest tighten as she read the words again. She had been reading the letter for the past few days. She had to come to grips with what she had done. She had obviously rushed the seeds before they were ready. And now her family along with thousands of others were suffering. At her hand, because of her own greed. 

She clutched the letter in her hand bringing it to her chest. The words pierced through her skin as the tears began to fall. Everything she had worked for and everything she had tried to accomplished were lost to her. No longer did she feel like she was a strong confident scientist, but now she was a frightened weak child. 

She closed her eyes trying to think through how she had gotten this way. How her hard work, and all her careful details could cause something so horrid. As she went through all of the steps in her head she kept coming back to the idea of what was happening to all of the other farmers of the world. Those that were not gifted with earthbending. Those that couldn't feel the earth the way that her family did. Her family at least could use bending to help with the plants and to retill the earth. They could save their money in other small ways that would allow for them to make it to next season. But how would all those other farmers make it? 

No, no, no. It wasn't real. Vasher wasn't here. He'd left the Circus years ago, taking his rage and missing eye with him, and Raven had closed that door firmly in his wake. 

He couldn't hurt her anymore. 

As soon as she'd spotted him in the Crow common room, just standing there as if he owned the pace and smiling at her, she ran. Down several flights of stairs, through more doorways than she could count with her mind in a haze of Can't. Won't. No. No, no, no...

She could hear him laughing behind her. How had he followed her? Horribly lost, Raven turned a corner and ran straight into Theodore Warren. She swore. "Theo. No, you can't be here. You have to get out." The only thing worse than Vasher hurting her was him hurting someone else in her name, and he would do it. Slowly and painfully. He hated her that much. She couldn't let that happen.

She'd thought she was afraid last time they spoke, when they flew to the lake. It was like stubbing your toe compared to being shot in the gut.

Al’s breath was trapped in her chest, her heart stalled. Her leg muscles tightened, her body ready to run, but her mind unwilling uproot and run to safety. Not a rational thought passed through her mind as she stared ahead at the silhouette in the doorway. Her father. Her father was here. Her father was alive and here and staring at her with so much hate in his eyes. Al’s head shook in denial, attempting to banish his existence before he spoke and confirmed his presence. “Nyet, Nyet,” Al mumbled, a clumsy step backwards was taken, bumping into another person. The fae did not even notice.

“Did you think that I would let you go? Let you go with those pathetic wings attached to your body?” Her father’s lip curled up, eyes dead and flat. Ten years of separation did nothing to quell the anger, to extinguish the disgust. The man muttered under his breath quietly, his tongue thick with a Russian phrase. 

A knife was brandished, shining and flickering with a taunt. Her father took a step forward, raising the weapon, and grasping Al’s arm with tight precision. Al cried out, not a particularly loud scream - a hopeless yelp. As if she was already resigned to her fate, not one ounce of fight left her in her as she knows that there is nothing anyone can do to prevent what will surely come next.

“You killed your mother and you do not deserve to have what she cannot.” And with those manic words, the man drove the knife into Al’s shoulder, the base of where muscle and wing met. Al’s scream finally reached loudness, echoing thought the old hallways of Clearbrook as she hung limply in her father’s grasp with tears trailed down her face. Her glamour flicked, revealing wings already damaged wings, already coated in a fresh sheen of crimson. 

Al is hanging upside down by her hands, on a hoop. She sees the inverted world below her as her forearms burn with the strain of holding her body weight. Raven had spent the better part of the day teaching her about the basics of her circus routine, fulfilling her promise made three years prior. She had learned the basics of foot position and then Raven had performed a few moves for Al to give a shot at. The acrobatic maneuvers were more complicated than Al originally guessed and the soreness in her muscles was evident of that.

Despite the physically demanding aspect of it all, Al was thoroughly enjoying herself. She was loving the height aspect of it. It gave her the same high that crawling on top of the castle wall spire did, that climbing mountains did, that jumping off cliffs into water did – only somehow, this was better. She felt free up here. Despite the fact that she could fall at any moment.

It’s starts with the smell of salt mingling in her nose. The teasing essence of the ocean making itself known. Marloes thinks nothing of it as she strides down the hall. She often has moments where her nostalgia becomes nearly palpable.

"Wha—?"

She feels the caress of slender fingers along her shoulders that drag downward, over her arms. A warm breath plays with the lobe of her ear, followed by a wetness. “Marly, I ‘ave meesed you.”

The young woman comes from behind the were’s back to face her. Amelie Denouvre, the French exchange student Marloes had fancied during her teenage years, smiles deeply at her. What the hell is going on? Marloes recalls a time where she’d have dreams—nightmares really—about this girl. But she’s not asleep. Right? The woman opens her mouth to ask the girl what she's doing in Clearbrook Castle but she doesn't get the chance.

Amelie steps in, closing the distance between them to share a pleasurable kiss. Bloody hell it certainly feels real. Marloes doesn’t know what to do other than go with it. So she does, wrapping her arms round the other woman and fully embracing the madness. That is, until the kiss slips away and Marloes feels her body tingle all over. She can't open her eyes for several moments and when she finally can, Amelie is on the floor of the hall with her internal organs splayed around her, blood seeping from massive wounds. And the blood drips of Marloes' fingertips as she lifts her hands to her face.

"Fock, no, no," Marloes murmurs to herself as her heart races. And then she hears a gasp and her little brother stands before her with wide eyes.

"Espen, no I didn't--" The tears burn a trail down the woman's cheeks now. This can't be happening.