I have finally managed to wake my muse from a college-essay-induced coma, though this wasn't at all what I had in mind, hopefully I'm not too rusty. Enjoy!
This work is hereby disclaimed.
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Elphaba stared at the hastily scribbled message that Chistery had brought to her, apparently having arrived by carrier pigeon earlier that morning, her mind only registering a single phrase.
Nessie's dead.
Shell's untidy scrawl continued a good length down the page, snatches of words broke through the muddled fog --Tornado--memorial service --a date of some sort-- yet still came back to those same two words. They simply refused to be processed, like a broken record.
Nessie's dead.
Dead. She was fixated on it; that single word echoing within her. Unbidden and unwelcome, long buried memories rose to the forefront of her mind: Doctor Dillamond with a blood noose about his neck, half covered in a scarlet shroud. The sickening reek of a shadowy corn exchange, the floorboards slick and stained with Fiyero's blood. Crimson splashed across Lurlinemas snow…emerald hands…
Her stomach turned at the sudden onslaught of memory and she fought the urge to retch, forcing down the bitter pain of her failures that rose like bile in her throat, forcing back the burning moisture that assaulted her eyes. She willed herself back to the present, back to the stone and reality of Kiamo Ko, desperate to be free of these visions of agony and death.
Without a word, she crumpled the paper between her boney fingers.
There would be time to mourn later. For now, there was still work to be done.
A little short, I know. There's more though, I promise!
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