I am so sorry for the hiatus in updating. I kind of got involved in writing my novel, and then I was stricken with writer's block, so I spent what little free time I had rewatching Transformers: Armada and Lego Ninjago. Hey, don't judge. Whatever clears the block. I hope this update is interesting!
Erron and Olivia trudged towards Z'Unkarah through sunset, and slow dusk, and gathering night. But eventually, what little strength the young Cryomancer possessed failed her, and at last she collapsed in a heap in the middle of the trail, wounded and exhausted. The gunslinger, whose own injuries were rapidly knitting together of their own accord, knelt beside her, propped her up, and forced her to drink the tiny bit of water left in his canteen. She coughed and sputtered, choking on it, then rested her head against his shoulders as he undoubtedly tallied up the damage to decide if her falling was from legitimate pain or pure dramatics. There were the usual bumps and bruises that always come from fighting, as well as all the more minor injuries from fighting with the sandworm, the yurei, Takeda, Reiko, and Mileena. But the worst was the blood; she'd lost far too much of it from the gaping hole in her forearm where Reiko had run her through with her own kori sword. Between that and the blood she'd lost from her jugular before Erron had cauterized it, it was no wonder she was dizzy and as weak as a newborn kitten.
"Hey, kid, come on," he urged her. "Get up. It's not much further."
Finally, she looked at him. "I can't," she gasped. Her body just didn't want to go on, not even a single step. "There's nothing left. There's nothing…Oh, God, I'm so tired." She let her face collapse onto her dirty, bloodied hands, and she quietly started to cry as she thought of her father and how he'd be ashamed to see her like this. The Lin Kuei never give up. As long as they draw breath, they always fight.
Erron opened his mouth to undoubtedly reprimand her, but then closed it just as abruptly. "Okay, kid, I've got you," he finally said. He carefully wrapped her undamaged arm around his neck and then threaded his own arms beneath her knees and back, lifting her up. "Hang on."
Olivia said nothing as Erron climbed to his feet and began walking again, this time carrying her. Miles passed by, but she ached too badly to sleep, even as exhausted as she was. Thoughts of her family tormented her as well; she still hadn't worked up the courage to ask Erron whether the yurei had lied about them leaving her. Part of her - a big part, if she was being honest - didn't really want to know. If she knew that they'd left her, she didn't think she had the heart to try anymore.
The waxing moon sank behind the mountains behind them. Dawn came clear and bright as the wind gently swept through the occasional tree. Finally, the mountains parted ahead of them to reveal a welcome sight: Z'Unkarah.
Before them, rocky hills tapered downward to the wide valley below. Crystal in the rock already glinted at her, even in the early light of day, but she barely noticed the veins of onyx and obsidian cutting through the bulbous stones as Erron wound his way down from the great mountains. Immediately before them, the city stood tall over the desert, its only source of water a thin thread of silver that flowed from both ends: the Tinemilizameyali River, he told her.
It didn't take Erron long to travel down the foothills and into the vast valley, to the Golden Wall that had taken the Edenian craftsmen hundreds of years to build after the land fell to Onaga. The towering gate was the only means through it on this side, as it cut a magnificent horseshoe from one side of the valley to the other, and the Tinemilizameyali River, which ran alongside it for several miles, served as an additional obstacle for potential enemies to cross. So the gunslinger found the great bridge that would lead him through and moved openly towards the Wall.
The ramparts on the Wall were too high for Olivia to see if any guards stood atop it, just as the weapons ports were too narrow to expose anyone within, but she suspected they were there all the same. The portcullis was raised, presenting a long and seemingly empty corridor that cut straight through the impossibly thick wall, but she knew full well that it could be dropped in the blink of an eye, if necessary.
As she and Erron approached, however, she heard the blast of a loud trumpet, and she cringed, not wanting any more trouble. Almost instantly, their path was blocked by a small phalanx of warriors bearing skeleton masks and clutching the race's infamous macuahuitls. There were stirrings above, as other warriors peeked over the wall, and though she couldn't see them Olivia could somehow feel a multitude of arrows aimed their way.
The guardpost's commander - Olivia knew him to be the commander, as he was the only Osh-tekk whose face wasn't covered by any mask or helmet - marched ahead of the others. He planted himself directly in the gunslinger's way, and Erron couldn't quite restrain a nod of respect.
"Minister," the Osh-tekk greeted him with a cold courtesy. Olivia wrinkled her nose in disbelief. It was odd hearing the gunslinger referred to as a minister. That was a word reserved for diplomats, for heads of state. Not grouchy, trigger-happy outlaw mercenaries anxious to sell their mother out for a single corn chip. And yet, Erron accepted the word, the title, as if he was used to hearing it.
"Commander."
"The Emperor has been expecting you."
"Then why block my way? Doesn't seem very smart, even for you."
The warrior, Tenoch, relaxed and chuckled. "Because we had hoped you would relay to the Emperor how well we do our duty here on the Golden Wall."
"You're gettin' better," the gunslinger conceded. "I barely heard you that time."
Tenoch now nodded to Olivia. "Caught another fiend, did you?" he asked. "Tell me, old friend, what could this child have possibly done to earn the attention of the Emperor's Minister of Security?"
Olivia growled deep in her throat at that, but Erron abruptly cut her off. "She ain't a prisoner," he informed him. "I'd explain it to ya, but I have to get back to the palace and talk to the Kahn. Reiko's comin', and he's got Mileena with him. They've combined their armies and are fixin' to march on Z'Unkarah."
Tenoch stiffened. "That is troubling news, Erron," he said.
"Close the gates behind me," he ordered. "No one comes through without the Kahn's say-so, ya hear?"
There was a moment of silence. Tenoch seemed at a loss. But finally he nodded and motioned for Erron to pass. "Delay not," he said. "We will begin fortifying our defenses at once."
Erron nodded and moved forward through the corridor that abruptly sprouted between the armored figures. The gunslinger and his charge passed beneath the portcullis, which quickly slammed shut behind them.
Z'Unkarah was constructed in layers, seemingly as high as the clouds. Some of those layers were created by the natural flow of the land. Others were wholly artificial: entire neighborhoods, structures and roadways, built atop ornate pillars and graceful arches. Courtyards, paved in geometric patterns, were surrounded by towers that stabbed at the sky and great step pyramids like small mountains. All were made up of sharp angles or elegant archways, and all were of the same golden sandstone construction as the Wall. Only desert trees and cacti sprouting in the courtyards, and the stained glass of the many windows provided any real color to the tableau.
Erron marched along at a stately pace, and in his arms Olivia took it all in like she'd never seen a city before, though she was careful never to be caught staring. The same could not be said of the people. All those who passed Erron and Olivia by, whether on foot or in a cart, stared until it seemed as if their eyes must burst. Most either took a couple of steps away or made a deliberate show of not doing so, but few showed any inclination toward approaching them. That was for Erron's benefit, she was certain.
Finally, just as the Cryomancer was growing truly irritated by the gawking, and the wonders of this city ceased to hold any appeal, she recognized their destination. From a courtyard fenced in behind another stone wall stood a towering structure made of golden stone, its edge sharp as a ship bow facing north: the Emperor's palace. In the gunslinger's arms, she found herself at the gate, and after barking some orders at his Osh-tekk underlings to prepare for war, Erron pushed through the main doors and the guards and entered the cool echoing shadows.
"Don't speak unless you're spoken to," he now ordered her. "I know you ain't too familiar with that concept, but give it a whirl just this once."
Olivia bristled in annoyance. "I know how to behave myself," she indignantly hissed.
"These last few days speak volumes otherwise." He smirked at his own wit, but then his face went smooth and cold once more as he wandered through the halls until he came to the right place.
The Emperor's audience chamber was lit by deep windows in the wide aisles at either side, beyond rows of pillars that held up the roof. Made of sandstone, they'd been painted with a wide variety of colored animals and symbols not unlike those of the Anasazi petroglyphs she'd seen back home when her mom dragged them all to Mesa Verde. In between those pillars were life-sized statues of important Osh-tekk warriors. No other trace of ornament decorated the hall. The Osh-tekk were as spartan as they came.
At the far end of the chamber, on a dais of three steps, was a throne that looked like little more than a stone chair, and on it sat the Emperor. The Osh-tekk was not donning blue warpaint today, Olivia noted in mild disappointment, but his sun-baked skin was mostly bare save for shoulder-plates crafted from animal skulls, and he also wore a crimson loin cloth held up by three beaded belts. Crocodile teeth jutted from his ears and nose, and in that moment, he reminded her less of a stately Emperor and more of a tribal chieftain. Beside him stood four strange warriors - a yellow-skinned woman with gossamer wings, a child perched on the shoulders of a behemoth of a man, and a hooded man with glowing green eyes. She'd never seen any of them before, but she knew well who they were from her father's stories: D'Vorah, Ferra and Torr, and Ermac.
"My warriors are stirring Erron," Kotal opened, his voice more baritone than Olivia ever guessed. "I hear whisperings of war. What news do you bring from the Red Desert?"
"Reiko and Mileena," he answered, as if those two names provided all the explanation he needed to give.
On his throne, Kotal Kahn stiffened. "How sure are you?"
Erron shrugged. "Well, I could be wrong, but they chased us here," he drily remarked. "Maybe it was just a coincidence, but I'm pretty sure Reiko's not happy I took his plaything."
"Hey!" she softly yelped, flushing in anger and humiliation.
"I reckon they're a few hours behind," he continued as if he hadn't heard her.
"And this is one of the children the Earthrealmers seek?"
He nodded. "Sub-Zero's daughter. Reiko and Mileena managed to take Kenshi's son back."
Kotal stepped off his throne and wandered to them, closely eyeing her up and down. With strong, thick fingers, he then gripped her chin and pulled her face up to look him in the eye. "She has his eyes," he finally mused.
"And his grit," Erron added, which made Olivia sad. She was nowhere near as strong as her dad.
"We no like her face," Ferra now declared before Torr roared his approval. "It ugly."
"No thanks to Reiko and Mileena," she indignantly hissed. Her head swam, and dark spots crept around the corners of her vision. "They hurt us both. Badly." She now looked at her right arm, which sat uselessly in her lap, trickling blood through the handkerchief Erron had wrapped around it hours ago. A dull, hot ache bloomed from it, shrieking up her shoulder and down into her hand.
The child laughed. "Bang-bang was stomped by Rakey and 'Leena?" she cackled in a high, squeaky voice.
"Shut up, you little rodent," he snapped at her.
"You no talk to we that way-"
"Enough!" the Emperor barked.
The gunslinger scowled, clearly smarting from their recent loss, but looked back to Kotal Kahn. "I set Tenoch and his men on the Golden Wall to high alert," he reported. "And I gave orders to the men in the city to prepare for battle."
"How strong are their numbers?"
"At least 20,000," he said. "Edenian rebels and Tarkatans. Probably a few mercenaries and sell-swords. I didn't stick around to count, though. There may be more."
"And what of the Earthrealmers?" he wondered.
"I imagine they're stuck behind Reiko's army," he said. "I bumped into them at the oasis. Traveled with them for a spell before I went underground to find this one and Kenshi's boy. Told them to meet us at the cave mouth, but I didn't see them, just the army. So we headed this way. Made it to the lake before Reiko and Mileena found us again. Attacked us. Took the kid. Had him under some kind of spell."
"Do you know what they hoped to accomplish by kidnapping the children?"
"Kenshi knows where Shinnok's amulet is," he said. "Reiko wanted to use that as a bargaining chip."
"By the Elder Gods, this is troubling news indeed!" He turned to the yellow-skinned woman. "D'Vorah, take Ermac, Ferra, and Torr, and ready our defenses. Send the bulk of our warriors to the Golden Wall."
"Yes, Lord Koa'tal," she hissed in a strange voice like a thousand insects buzzing. Then she and the others exited through a door to the right of the throne.
Meanwhile, Erron looked down at Olivia. "Think you can stand now?"
"I'll try," she said, though she was remarkably dizzy, and he slowly set her on the ground. She still felt weak and wobbly, and frantically gripped his shoulder for support before she collapsed again. He caught her, and held her upright.
"This kid needs a Healer, Emperor," he said.
"I suppose, then, that it's prudent I brought several," a new voice, yet familiar to Olivia, now spoke. She didn't even have to see the speaker to know who it belonged to. Her heart leapt with joy into her throat.
She glanced over her and Erron's shoulders to look behind her. There, a woman who was beautiful like Olivia's mother before she'd been hideously burned and scarred by Shang Tsung stood at the mouth of the corridor. The skin across half her face was bulbous and transparent like melted wax, and a third of her scalp was subsequently bald. The burn scar had climbed down her forehead, blinded a lavender eye white, and dribbled down her cheek almost to her jaw. Her ear on that side was little more than a large piece of rotten cauliflower, brown and pitted with age. But even all the damage to her physical body couldn't diminish how regal she was, how strong and fierce was her countenance. It dwarfed the aura of the man who stood beside her, the King, a younger man she knew her Aunt Kailyn hated more than anyone still living. And when Olivia saw this woman approach her, she started to cry, for reasons she couldn't begin to explain.
"Mamulya!" she weakly croaked. She threw herself into the woman's outstretched arms, bawling into her long mahogany hair. The woman sank to the floor with her so she wouldn't fall, and held her tightly.
"Oh, my precious girl," Catja, her Hydromancer grandmother, said. Her voice was the most soothing thing she'd ever heard. "How on earth did you manage to get to Outworld by yourself?"
"It's a long story, Mammy," she replied, her voice barely louder than a whisper, muffled by her grandmother's shoulder. "But what are you doing here?"
Her Mamulya pulled away to look at her. She knowingly grinned and then pushed the hair from Olivia's clammy face. "Well, after a certain young lady went missing in the Red Desert, her parents evidently sought a frantic audience with the Emperor. Her father may or may not have been a boorish goat about it too, as Cryomancers tend to be." She smiled as Olivia laughed a little at the thought of her dad acting like a rampaging bull because she was missing. "So the Emperor, suspecting trouble was ahead, summoned all of his ministers to his court, including that young lady's grandmother." Catja clutched Olivia's face to her bosom and then looked up at the Emperor. "My people came as fast as we could, Lord Koa'tal," she said, bowing. "We left Tlachtga as soon as we received your message."
"You honor me, Queen Catja," he politely bowed. "You are the first of my ministers to arrive. It would seem that you arrived not a moment too soon."
"What of the others?" she asked.
"Prince Goro travels here with his advisors, Kintaro and Sheeva," he replied. "Motaro travels here as well. But I cannot count on them arriving before Reiko's army does."
"No, you can't," she agreed.
"Who travels with you?" he asked.
"I have brought the Falcata and the Warriors," she reported. "I have already directed them to report to your people. And I have brought most of my Healers as well. I expect they'll be needed."
"Indeed," he agreed. "You have done well. But now you must go," he ordered. "Heal your granddaughter. Make her ready for her parents. Then make your people ready for war."
Catja bowed. "Yes, Lord Koa'tal," she said. Then she kissed Olivia on the forehead. "Come," she ordered. "We'll get you fixed up." Then she glanced at Erron. "You as well, Cowboy." She winked.
"I'm fine," he stubbornly crossed his arms. "And I ain't no cowboy."
"You will go with them as well, Erron," the Emperor commanded, prompting the gunslinger to look at him in sheer annoyance.
"I don't need no witch doctor to lay hands on me," he retorted, completely exasperated by the mere suggestion.
"You are wounded."
"I'll heal."
"Not as fast as you will when the Healers touch you," he countered. "If it is true what you say, and Reiko is aiding Mileena, then I shall need you at full capacity sooner rather than later."
"But-"
"That is an order, Erron," he replied. "Help Queen Catja find suitable quarters for the child, let them Heal you, and then report to D'Vorah."
The gunslinger scowled, grumbling under his breath about witch doctors, but he finally nodded his acquiescence and lifted Olivia into his arms once more. "Come on," he barked at Catja, who couldn't help but chuckle at him. The Cryomancer couldn't blame her; this was as close to a temper-tantrum that she'd seen of Erron Black. She vaguely smiled to herself.
He herded them through the doors and up an elegant, twisting staircase that made a large, lazy loop to the second floor. It spilled into a stone corridor where the Healers and the man who'd been standing beside Catja earlier, King Anluan, stood in waiting, scowling darkly at her.
Olivia shrank against the gunslinger as much as she could. She'd gotten used to the animosity many of the Hydromancers still felt towards Cryomancers, even though they declared a tentative truce after Onaga fell, and she was mostly numb to being called an "abomination of nature" when they thought she wasn't listening. Anluan and people like him were the very reason her parents wouldn't let her walk around Tlachtga alone - old hatred just couldn't die. Right now, she didn't want trouble. Not when she was so vulnerable and weak that she could barely stand.
Anluan eyed her up and down in disgust, and then looked to Catja. "Why should our people fight and die to protect a...Cryomancer?" His patrician nose crinkled in disdain. "We should let Reiko take her to protect the greater good. She is an abomination that never should have been allowed to be born anyway."
Catja started to speak, but Erron interrupted her. "You're a fool," he hissed. "He ain't comin' for her. He's comin' to put Mileena on the throne. He probably wants a puppet in place so that when he finds Shinnok's amulet, he faces no opposition from Outworld. This kid ain't got nothin' to do with that, so you can just leave her alone." He shifted Olivia in his arms, and then he glared again at the King. "And I'm gonna tell you this just once. This kid is as brave as any I've seen in years. So you're gonna protect her like she's your own. 'Cause if I find out you didn't, I'm gonna turn your head into a canoe."
"To hell with that," Catja now hissed as she stepped between Anluan and Olivia. "If you call my granddaughter an abomination again, I'll make you disappear off the face of this earth." She spoke with no real venom, and that was the frightening part. She was just stating a fact, not a threat, but a promise. "Now, Anluan, I think you should go help D'Vorah get our people ready. I will join you shortly."
And for all his pride, Anluan, who'd been elected by the Elders to become the King, demurely bowed his head to the Queen and said, "Yes, Lady Catja." He flashed one last look of derision at Olivia and then disappeared down the stairs once again.
Erron holstered his gun. "Arrogant prick," he muttered.
"It's times like these when I miss King Henryk," Catja sighed. "He was stubborn as a mule, but at least I could get him to listen to reason."
"Thank you for sticking up for me," Olivia said to Erron as they resumed their trek down the hall. "They've never really liked me very much. Especially him."
"It ain't nothing," he replied. "Here," he said a moment later, nodding to an open door that spilled into a grand room. "This ought to do just fine."
She glanced inside. This room had probably been occupied by many grand and powerful rulers throughout the centuries, and yet it was every bit as spartan as Kotal Kahn's throne room had been. The furnishings were simple, if well-made and well-polished. A stout chair sat behind a large table plain enough to have served a farmhouse. The only other chair in the room, just as plain and unusually set off to one side near the fireplace, sat on top of a non-descript rug woven with blue, brown, and gold threads. The bed, which stood in the middle of the room, was better suited towards a prison than a palace. And that was all of it.
Erron deposited Olivia on the soft bedcovers of her bed before wandering over to the chair by the fireplace, and then Catja snapped her fingers at the Hydromancers still lingering behind in the hallway. Immediately, a blond woman dressed in animal hide skirts rushed forward and knelt before the Cryomancer. Olivia recognized Birgette, one of the Healers her mother had personally trained.
"Milady," she said as she gripped the teenager's hands and began to Heal her. Olivia blushed at being called 'Milady.' She hardly felt regal enough right now to warrant a simple "hey you." She smelled like sweaty gym socks and old blood, with undertones of dank cave clinging to her hair.
As it always did when she was Healed, fluid power flowed through her like an ocean current, down to her very soul. It attacked all the injuries in her body, washing them away like particles of sand. Within seconds, Olivia felt them begin to knit shut, and the pain and exhaustion began to melt away. She felt warm inside, as if she were basking in the glow of the sun while stretched out on a towel at the beach. Her arm and throat took the longest to heal, but soon, even they too slowly closed up.
Birgette frowned, though. She exchanged a look with Catja, who bit her lip thoughtfully and ran her finger across Olivia's neck. "How did she come by this injury on her throat, Erron?" she asked the gunslinger.
"Yurei," was his curt response. He had currently taken to reloading his guns.
The Queen glanced back at Birgette, who wistfully smiled and squeezed Olivia's hands tightly. "The wound is healed, but you will always have the scar, Milady. Our powers cannot Heal the scars left by dark magic."
Olivia gulped. "Fantastic," she muttered. She didn't want to explain that one to her family. Her father would probably call her a coward for slitting her own throat.
"Heal Erron," Catja now commanded Birgette, who dutifully obliged, even though Erron scowled at both women and muttered about witch doctors.
Then the Queen sat beside Olivia and pulled her hand into her lap, delicately tracing the lines on her palms with her fingernail. "You've had one hell of an adventure," she opened as she gazed intently into her granddaughter's eyes.
"Got that from my mind, did you?" she bitterly retorted, looking away.
Catja smirked and shrugged. "Well, that, and the sad shape you were in spoke volumes. You're going to have a hard time adjusting when you return home. You know that, don't you?"
"I can't go home. Not now. I've done-"
"You've done what you've had to in order to survive." She tucked a lock of hair behind Olivia's ear. "Erron's right. You've been very brave."
The Cryomancer scoffed. "Tell that to Alex. Tell that to my mom. Tell that…" She paused, swallowing hard when she thought of the shame she brought upon her dad. It'd been so terrible that he'd abandoned her. And she couldn't even be angry at him for that. She looked down at her hand. "Tell that to my father," she murmured.
"Oh, my dear child, your family - your father - didn't come all the way from Earthrealm just to abandon you to your fate," she reassured her. "Even if your father was such a man, I promise you that your mother would never leave you. No matter what you've done, I know my daughter. She'd gladly die before giving you up."
Olivia looked up hopefully. "You think so?" she whispered.
"Yes, I do," she replied. She nodded to reiterate her point, prompting Olivia to smile. Maybe her family still cared. "They do," Catja spoked, answering the question only asked in the Cryomancer's mind. "Now, I have to prepare the Hydromancers for battle. I want you to stay put here."
"But Mamulya!" she yelped in exasperation. "That's not fair! After everything I've been through-"
"She's right, kid," Erron added, now joining the conversation. "This is as safe a place as any when the shit goes down."
"I don't want to be in a safe place," she argued. "I want to help."
"You done pissed off Reiko," he countered. "He'll be gunnin' for ya."
"You told Anluan that he's not here for me," she hissed. "He's here to help Mileena depose the Emperor."
"Yeah, but if he can get his hands on you, he will," he retorted. "Now this ain't up for debate, kid. You're stayin' here."
"But-"
Erron yanked out his freshly loaded .45 and aimed it at her knee. "You know you can live without your leg, right?" he warned her.
"Promise me you'll stay here," Catja now urged, smiling at Erron's threat.
"But Mammy, my powers can do a lot of good. You know that. Let me help."
The scarred Hydromancer sighed and smoothed Olivia's hair behind her ears. "I know you can fight and take care of yourself. You've proven that plenty of times in the Red Desert."
"Then-"
"But I want you to stay here," she cut her off. "My reasons, I confess, are selfishly motivated. When I found out that you were here in Outworld, alone, I was beside myself with worry. If something were to happen to you, I…" She trailed off, her lavender eyes lost in a distant, sad place. "You're as much a part of me as you are of your mother. So I'm going to protect you however I can. And if that means you have to stay here while we deal with Reiko, then so be it."
"Listen to your gram, kid," Erron ordered as tears now filled Olivia's eyes. She grudgingly nodded.
"Promise me," Catja said, staring her in the eyes to coax out a genuine vow.
"I promise," the Cryomancer finally conceded.
"Good girl," the Queen said with a smile as she patted the teenager on the head and got to her feet. The gunslinger joined her side.
"Lock the door behind us," he barked at her.
"What am I supposed to do?" she whined, following them. "Just sit here and wait?"
"You don't have to sit," he replied. "You can always throw snowballs out the window."
"Dammit, that's not funny," she snapped while he smirked.
When they were gone, Olivia locked the door like he'd instructed and then stomped back to her bed in frustration. If anyone deserved to take a shot at Reiko, it was her. Then again, she reasoned, her Mamulya had been scared about the prospect of losing her granddaughter. And Erron had also been right; Reiko had made it abundantly clear that he wasn't going to take her betrayal lying down. She understood why it was best she stay behind, but still got the feeling she was being treated like a child once again.
Though her stubborn pride refused to admit it, she was pretty tired still, even after Birgette healed her. She'd been awake for the better part of a week, with only the occasional nap here and there to sustain her. And after sleeping on hard ground and shifting sand for all that time, that bed sure looked inviting. Admitting defeat, she crawled onto it and stretched out on her belly.
She turned her head toward the windows, then, and looked towards the cityscape, listening to the anxious bustling of the people outside preparing for war. A touch of thunder caught her ears, and in surprise, she glanced up at the sky. Dark clouds were spreading like India ink. That's strange, she thought. But then again, even deserts get storms from time to time. Perhaps this one was an omen of things to come. She contemplated the possibility of that as her eyelids, heavy like lead, started to close.
Esha Napoleon, thanks!
MKDemigodZ-Warrior, I'll have to think about that for a while LOL
DarkAssassin15, I'm sorry! LOL
Westcoast Witchdoctor, *clinks glass* In memory of Blue.
reptaliator, Oh, I just bring up Frozen to poke fun at the people who ship Elsa with Sub-Zero. It occurred to me one day that it could be a funny way to make light of that ship.
ROCuevas, indeed! Thank you!
Jlord37, I'm glad you approve of the inactivity because this recent one has been awful.
Guest, why did you want Anya to die? :p
iceangelmkx, I did warn you, but I'm sorry I ripped your heart out. But I'm sure your kittehs were good consolation.
Spinoguyproductions, It's nice to see you again. I understand your complaint about likability, but the truth is, I designed the characters to be like that at first. I wanted them (especially Olivia and Kuai Liang) to start out as asshats so that they could evolve and change over the course of the story. They're gradually doing that. But thanks for the honest input.