Ready or Not, This Means War
Content Warning
Fight
Drama
Dawn
Summer
She couldn't tell if it was easier with Nikandr's presence, or far more hard. His scent washed over her before she spotted him out of the corner of his eye, but although her ears twitch back, she cannot pry her gaze away from her sister. Perhaps she feared that if she lost sight of @Magdalena, the girl would disappear from her again; or, perhaps, it was that innate, instinctual fear of turning her back against a Scillan.
We could fix that, came her friend's easy drawl, and Melusina couldn't describe the feeling swelling deep in her chest. She is half-tempted to say yes, Gods, please, but when her mouth parts, at first, nothing comes out.
Do it, she screams silently, and it is only then that her gaze breaks from Magdalena's, and falls desperately into Nikandr's. Her eyes hope to convey what her words could not. Save her. Save me. Save us.
Magdalena, Melusina?
Her head whips around to @Dominic, and like @Nikandr, she does not know if she welcomes his distraction or loathes it. Suddenly, there are too many variables, too many eyes upon them. They'd all held their breath, shuddered with anticipation at the reunion of two sisters on opposite sides of war. And as time dragged on with its cunning cruelty, the bonds between them were tested by their resolve, and the fury of their fellow soldiers began to seep in. Their own fury, as well, deep-seeded and guarded, began to claw its way through.
A voice rings out. Its commanding tone rises above the crowd, harkening her sister's name. And though Melusina could not see the man who commanded sister to attack sister, she could not help the way it tightened her jaw, stiffened her muscles, drug her wide and wild eyes to her sister once more. A silent question lingered on her lips, though it was evident what Melusina was daring her: Would you try to end me?
Try to, she reiterated silently. Melusina no longer dealt in absolutes. She had fought Cassius and she had won, and the evidence of her victory was threaded into his very flesh.
@Rohan's surprise would be far less unwelcome had he arrived just moments before. But like Magdalena, the warmth of his reassuring embrace if short-lived, and the youngest sister is quickly pulling herself free of him, too. Worried that she would falter—deeper yet still that she might become swath in his Scillan scent.
Her mind is whirring, overwhelmed. Between Magdalena and Nikandr and Dominic and Rohan, the roar of war crescendoing all around them, it takes everything in her to not lose control of her breath. The rattling in her lungs returned, disease taking advantage of the chaos and causing her breathing to sputter. Yet, Melusina tries desperately not to let it show, disguising her broken gasps between flared nares and half-narrowed eyes.
But when her father—her father's ghost—appears, she can hold nothing else back.
@Alaric had died. She had watched him take his final breath. And in the wake of her parents' demises, Melusina had fled before she'd seen him brought back to life. The very will of the Gods had stitched him back together, but his daughter had run before she could bare witness to it. Now, the man who stood in his place seemed like an imposter, an imitation of what once was, what once could have been had they all survived.
Keep up your guard, he says, in that awkward, fatherly tone she'd always known of him. And oh, how desperate she was to shed her skin, to fling herself into his arms and beg his forgiveness, all their forgiveness. But Melusina had come too far; and the wings that had been clipped had grown back in a different shade of color.
Vermeda, Mel? came her sister's incensed response.
Melusina's ears twitch, and the effort with which it takes to pry her eyes from their father is too slow, too great.
Where else? How long have you been back, if you're in the Brook?
Long enough,
she breathes. Long enough to know she had made a decision in the Passage that had set her on this course; long enough to have felt pride or regret for it, and yet, Melusina felt nothing at all.
Icefang does not coddle me. She—Vermeda—has made me strong.
Strong enough to defeat Cassius, she wants to say. Strong enough to be renewed, to be made anew. You can see for yourself, sister.
But she is not met with such mercy. Instead, Magdalena seems to recoil, a familiar anger unfurling in her sister that Melusina had only just begun to become acquainted with herself. Her face twists into a frown as they separate, fury driving a wedge where once there had been nothing but relief and love. She feels her heart thundering, each painful beat thrusting against her aching chest, her shuddering lungs. She had to act now. If she didn't, she would lose her sister forever. She was running out of time—
Do it, Nikandr!
she commands, tears prickling in the corners of her eyes as she turned toward her companion. Do it no—
Before she can finish, a flash of white races past her periphery and launches itself right at her friend. A wild, frantic screech bursts from her parted lips as @Noemi throws herself into the fray, and cuts off Melusina's support. She barely has time to recoil before Dominic surges forward, as well, meeting Magdalena where she herself had skidded to a stop from her path to stop Nikandr herself.
No!
she wails out as their battles surge all around her. She had needed more time—if only she'd had more time.
But fate was far too cruel a friend for that. Melusina made her choice long ago. She had months to prevent this day.
Deep, hidden within her, was the realization that would she to do it all again, she would make all those same decisions.
Her head whips to her father, that dark and creeping feeling seeping through; her resolve snaps, breaks. Her eyes are hardened, half-narrowed, no longer those of a shy Stärke daughter.
This is all your fault.
You should never have given us your name.
She can be discussed in OOC settings.
Please tag me after seven days.
She is open to premade plots as well as unplanned threads.
She is open to any IC consequences.
