They are but children. desperate, wide-eyed little children staring in wonder as the world crumbles around them. Flowers wilt under their touch. Animals flee in their presence. All who see them cower in fear. Fire burns in their eyes and in their hearts. Strings of magic bind them together.
Four of the bravest, most notorious, most intimidating. Four who cling to each other like lost puppies. Four who try desperately to prove themselves, trying trying trying. Four of the most twisted, wicked, truly rotten villains, worse even than those who bore them.
And yet they are but children, clinging to hope when all hope is lost, watching on with smiles as all they once knew turns back to ashes and smoke.
Mal Flores II
Fire consumes her. She tries to shake it off, tries to control it, but she fails. She always fails. she can hear her mothers voice echo in her head as she calls her weak time and time again. Hot tears run down pale cheeks as she runs down another hill and attempts to escape the memories. Everything around her is too bright. There is no sun on the isle, but here it burns hotter that the dragon fire in her gut. He watches her go, lets her. He can't help her. She screams and magic leaks from her mouth, oozing like blood. He doesn't move. She turns around and calls him, wants him next to her to try and mend her broken parts, but he can't. He can only watch as she tears herself apart time and time again, never letting her old wounds heal before she claws them open again. He sits, aching under the weight of his crown, and lets her destroy herself. The fire around her burns brighter than the sun on her skin and she fades. Her wings turn to leather, hair turns to smoke. Her eyes are flames as she is consumed by her own magic. She failed, again. And he did nothing to help.
Genevieve Grimhilde
She stares and stares and stares at her reflection in the mirror, trying desperately not to let the tears burning behind her eyelids slip down her cheeks. She can't cry. If she does, her perfectly applied make up will smudge and she can already hear her mother scolding her again because "how will someone ever love you when you look like that?". She grips the fabric of her dress and squeezes. He enters the room, eyes puffy and red, crown askew on his head. she doesn't want to believe what he tells her. Because dragon fire burns only if you want it to and she didn't so why is she gone now? and tears slip down her cheeks anyway and smudge her make up so she scrubs at her cheeks until there's no trace of powder or cream left to cover the tear tracks. She feels magic claw it's way up her throat as emotions get the better of her and she chokes. He stands there in shock and watches. he doesn't know what he can do. Her vision blurs and he stumbles and runs. She isn't pretty anymore. She is a mess and no one loves her so she hides and chokes on wisps of red as they seep from her hands. She hears her mother yell and feels the sting of a hand on her cheek. She bruises and breaks and cries. Her mind clears but her vision blurs and she grabs the apple on her desk. Pearly teeth bite into blood red and she falls and chokes chokes chokes. She falls asleep as he returns. He watches and she isn't beautiful anymore. He didn't wake her up.
Jadid Al Agrabah
He clenches his fists and grinds his teeth and tries desperately not to punch the pretty face in front of him. Instead, he snatches the crooked golden crown from a head of dark brown and throws it aside aggressively. He runs and ignores footsteps getting faster behind him. He runs all the way to the lake and washes off the powder on his arms and neck. He pulls off his shirt and does the same to his chest, making the tattoos on his tan skin visible once again. He can feel the magic underneath his skin. It's rough like desert sand and hot like the midday sun. He can feel his feelings like molten gold boiling inside his brain and he feels so so alone. It's like they're back in the cave with treasures piling up endlessly around them except he's alone and he's drowning in riches he never wanted. And then he's back on the isle and his father hits him again and again and again. Bruises and tattoos pile up up up until the difference between ink and skin is blurred like his vision. His father's voice still yells in his mind but a different voice followed him to the lake so he runs again. His legs ache and he wishes he didn't have them, wishes he could float and wishes for wishes to rescue him. A pain like needles takes over his mind as his body turns to smoke before the eyes of one he used to call friend. He stands there, crown in hand, and watches. He sees patterns of yellow-ish smoke fade away in the clouds and sees droplets of ink stain the ground. He doesn't try to catch the smoke.
Carlos Oscar De Vil
He tries one last time to wipe his freckles off his cheeks, not wanting to be yet another item in his mother's collection. He can feel her breathing down his neck when the news reaches him. "You're alone again", she whispers, "no one loves you, no one ever loved you". He chokes on a sob and tries to hide in his closet, but the closet's too small and it seems like everything is covered in fur so he clambers out and goes to sit on the roof. His mind is racing and his face is burning and he chokes on cigarette smoke and coats. he can feel sharp nails on his face and hands all over him so he tries to pull them off but the itching under his skin is still there. "You're alone", the voices say, and he knows they're right, they always were. He stands up and he can feel the cold night air on his face. He tightly shuts his eyes but he still hears the voices, the most recent one still echoing from when he told him, crown in hand, that he was all alone. When he opens his eyes again the stars are flickering and his breathing is getting faster and faster. He can feel the heat of dragon fire burning his spotted skin and he chokes chokes chokes on magic and he feels his body turning into smoke. His mind is too loud and the air is too cold and he's burning up from the inside. He presses his hands against his head and when he takes a step back he feels the wind rushing past him and the voices are finally quiet, except one. He calls him, but it is too late. He stands but couldn't help, he watches but didn't wake, he sees but doesn't try, he calls without a voice.
"We are Rotten" Her voice never wavers as she repeats the all too familiar phrase. "To the Core".
Ben Florian III
But are they truly? Those he thought so frail and innocent at first, are they capable of causing such harm?
The city burns with dragon fire. The people have flames of red in their eyes. Smoke blurs his vision. The wind blows and breaks and batters.
They are gone now.