512 years before Cassandra's arrival

Rain bombarded the battlefield outside of the castle. The night sky was well underway, and the only thing that allowed the surrounding landscape to be viewed was the occasional flash of lighting in the clouds above. Thunder pounded the heavens like a wrathful drumbeat, but in comparison to the ground below, the amount of wrath could not measure up.

Several dozen poil men lay dead on the soil. An attempt had been made on their part to storm the castle walls and destroy its inhabitants. But with only four surges to guard the fortress, the advancement of the makeshift army had been halted, and their lives ended abruptly in a fury of unrelenting power.

Each of the four women had taken part in the slaughter, tearing the poils apart with their magic. Arms and legs were plucked out from the rest of the body. Chests caved in. Heads pulled out from the neck. Some had been slammed onto the ground with such force that they were dead on impact, while the others were cooked alive in the torrents of blue flame that erupted their way.

All except one.

Struggling to sit up on his knees, the last surviving poil of the group clutched his bleeding elbow. His forearm had been torn away, leaving only strings of red flesh to dangle from the exposed joint. He was certain that there were other wounds on his body. He was far too sore to differentiate what was broken and what wasn't. Breathing heavily, he gazed upward, staring at the victors of this battle.

The four young women who had killed his brothers peered down as they encircled him. Droplets of rain splashed across their freckled noses and down their long hair. At each of their hands were flickers of fire. These ladies were ready to finish this battle tonight, and he knew that he had no fight left in him. Not a single fawn had been killed tonight.

"I knew this is," he mumbled as he fought to gather his breath, "what you fawns would do."

The apparent leader of the pack, a dark-haired woman, leaned in, angry as ever. "You attacked us!"

She was then joined by the sole blonde in the group. "Why can't you leave us alone?"

He broke out with a chuckle and turned his head at his shoulder, glancing at the multitude of dead before them. "You think that what you see here isn't proof that your kind are too powerful? That you won't decimate this world eventually?"

The third fawn, a brunette with lighter hair, pointed at the deceased men. "It is you who demands power! If what we have was wielded by you, nobody will be safe! Do you think any of us want to kill?"

His chuckling grew louder as a smile brimmed across his bearded face. "You sure do a great job at it."

The leader turned to her fellow sister, waving off his statement. "We will not entertain this any longer, Marselta."

Marselta sighed as she nodded, appearing somber as her green eyes trailed down to the man who she had injured so greatly. "I didn't want any of this, Ienetta."

"Neither of us did," her leader responded. Ienetta shut her eyes and shook her head slowly, humming as she redirected her attention back down to the captured poil. This wasn't the first time that she had stood before a prisoner. This also wasn't the first time their castle had been besieged, but this would be the first time her final decision would be different.

She had previously spared the final surviving members of the attacking group, hoping that they would send the message to their others and put an end to this violence. But instead, the only thing that got passed was that they needed more men. And so, more men arrived. More men died. The cycle would only repeat unless something changed.

She hated herself for what she was about to do.

Ienetta did not utter another word. Doing so would have only amplified her sense of guilt that would surely plague her in the future. With a swift motion, she opened her palm and extended her arm his way. Her powers flowed through her fingers like invisible tendrils, ensnaring the man's neck immediately.

She did not torture him. If he even had time to realize her hold on him, his unchanging expression spoke otherwise. As soon as the force of her magic gripped his skin, Ienetta decapitated him.

As his headless body collapsed forward, the fawn let out a sharp grunt as the blue particles evaporated away from her skin. Her breathing paused for a moment, mirroring the eternity of apnea that she had sentenced him to. She then turned her eyes away, choosing instead to focus on her sisters at arms.

The fourth fawn, Reseppia, another light-haired brunette and the youngest of the four, addressed the execution. "Is this ever going to end?"

Vollenna, the blonde, shared her sentiment with Ienetta as she stepped forward and placed her hand on the fawn's shoulder. "Shall we stay here?"

Determined yet hopeless, Ienetta sighed, her thumb gracing the edges of her forefinger. She was still trying to work off the reality that she had not only just killed another poil, but that she had done so in cold blood. She felt like a murderer. Killing in war was something else, even if it still choked the life out of her soul. But ending someone's life when she had so much control just felt wrong.

She wanted to cry, but if she did, then the morale of the other fawns may be compromised. She had to remain strong. Something told her that this wasn't the final time their castle would be stormed by more of the poils.

This had been a war over power. The coming advancement of this world had been suppressed by years of disagreements and violence. The fawns inside the castle were the weakest of their kind, and thus, these select few surges had taken it upon themselves to protect the rest of the flock. If the poils ever succeeded in gaining entry, then those poor women would be slaughtered—or worse.

Ienetta had grown up alongside several poil families in a tiny community. She knew that there were those who were not in favor of this tragic conflict, but their voices died out amongst the raging hatred that the others spewed. When someone close was killed by a fawn, there were ten times as many that were now eager to take up arms against these gifted ladies.

And when they managed to kill some fawns, their quest for power only grew. Ienetta feared that there were a few of her kind that shared the same sentiment. Communes were being devastated by this war, and it was likely that a couple of survivors had taken their anger out on the neighboring poil communities.

The cost of a vengeful fawn's magic upon those settlements was catastrophic. It was no wonder why both sides kept fighting.

She looked at the others, answering both their questions at once, "I don't know."

One year before Cassandra's arrival

Lia could not stop thinking about her conversation with Ruth for many reasons. It was the first time in so long that a poil had sought her out merely to express their thanks. As much as the poils in Acomb respected and cared for her, her interactions with them were short. Milo often took care of the rest, and the fawn's magic had been regulated to the most irreversible of cases.

As terrible as that encounter in the forest had gone, she was just grateful that she was able to pull the others out. Jath was also on her mind, but she had yet to see him since that fateful afternoon. The following day was nearly at its evening, and after dining with Milo and Leta, Lia had chosen to isolate herself back in her bedroom.

As soon as that door shut, it was back to her crafts. The painting of the landscape that she had spent the last week on was still yet to be finished, but her mind could not focus on recreating the lush plains. No. She wanted to paint something else.

A person.

I still have a couple of hours left before total nightfall. I should be studying, but I just can't think straight right now. Maybe if I spend an hour on something here, I can get it out of my system.

Walking up to her desk, Lia removed her fur cape and set it down on the nearby bed. She hated to get even a drop of paint on it. They were almost irreplaceable. A fawn would be gifted with only three throughout their course of life.

They got their first when they were young children, which they would quickly outgrow. It would remain on until they became older teenagers. They would receive their second after that, which would follow them for the majority of their time in this world.

It wasn't until they became elderly that they would be gifted with a white cape, which was passed down through generations of the commune. Fawns hardly bore many children, often just one or two, and sometimes the world cut those families short.

The cape that Lia had received was a gift from Milo, of all people. He had purchased it from a nearby trader a few years after he adopted the two fawns. The man who sold it to him had stated that it once belonged to a woman who gave her life protecting a group of poils from a vicious mob. The details of the story were minimal, at best.

But with Lia getting older, he knew that she needed it. It stung his heart to be reminded of how off course her life had been sent ever since he brought those men to her commune, and her mother should have been the one to present her with a proper cape. However, when he gave it to her, she initially turned him away in anger but relented when her hands touched the surface of the garment.

Lia channeled the residual energy in the fur, feeling the essence of the woman who had previously worn it. The trader's story was true. She had witnessed how a youthful fawn, just a few years older than she was at the time, had stood before a group of poils who wished to kill the ones she had been taking care of.

Even though this woman lacked any considerable abilities to defend herself, she healed the wounds of her close friends before telling them to run. Lia's mind played audience to the memories, watching as a rogue man drove his spear into her chest once she finally turned around. There were no bloodstains on the cape. It was as if the wearer's duties had yet to be fulfilled.

Lia always thought that her powers meant she was created for a higher purpose. The weak had to be saved, but the will of the woman who came before her needed to remain alive. A fawn with great magic and a pure heart could potentially save this cruel world from itself one day.

Or, at least, that is what she hoped for. Either way, she accepted the cape and proudly wore it. Leta had been given her old one, and Lia had it in her mind to transfer this cape to her when the time was right. Both of their lives had been pulled away from tradition, but that didn't mean that tradition could not exist in their hearts.

Until then, she could not bear to see paint land on the graceful hairs of this beautiful piece. It had occurred once before, and it was a miracle that she managed to cleanse it completely. Ironically, Milo was the one to blame for that incident.

Hmm, now where do I begin?

Grabbing her paintbrush and preparing her canvas, Lia sat down in her chair and studied the blank sheet before her. After taking a deep breath, she tried to envision what kind of image that she could create. There was an entire list of things that cascaded through her mind. She wanted something that held meaning, but at the same time, she was excited to just throw colors and shapes onto the paper.

I feel like I've been drawing and crafting so many animals and whatnot. A woman or a man would be a great subject again, but it's so tricky. I need to figure out what they are going to be doing. Hmm, so very tricky, indeed.

Her memories of Jath and Ruth being rescued by the dhin would insert themselves into her brain each time the tip of her brush neared the paint containers. She still couldn't pry herself away from nature, but the vision of the greenery around the carnage spoke to her. If there was no dhin, it would have been a serene scene, but the predatory creature brought death with it, and thus, a young lady's life had been so viciously snuffed out.

That was when the idea dawned on her.

Parselta! I could, no, I should paint her!

Lia could feel the blood pumping through her heart as she readied herself for the picture. The endless possibilities of a subject soon transformed into the urgency to finish this entire painting within the hour. She wanted to get it down so that she could hold it in front of her, hopefully absolving her mind of all the guilt that she faced for failing to save her. Lia steadied her breath before her brush dipped itself into the paint. She needed to choose the right color; otherwise, there would be no turning back once she began.

The image had to be just right, but the problem was that her mind could get its ideas straight. She knew that she wanted an image of Parselta standing or frolicking around, but where? The meadows? The town of Acomb? The forest where she was killed?

That last suggestion soon died off. She didn't even want to think about that spot anymore. Anyone who looked at the painting would surely equate it with the tragedy. No. They couldn't be reminded of that.

But who was she expecting to show it to?

Ruth. Will Ruth end up seeing this one day? I think it would be something that she and Jath could hold onto. I doubt that she has ever had any portraits made of her friend, but what do I know? Ah, I know nothing, and that's the problem. Will the Parselta that I paint be the Parselta that those two loved? I need to find out more before I begin this. I… I have to speak to Ruth again.

She set down her brush, gazing at the canvas, which was just as blank as her stare. That excitement in her heart was now increasing, but she wasn't sure why. All the drive to create a painting of Parselta was still there, but there would be no finishing it tonight. She wouldn't even start until she had all the information that she needed.

So, why was she still so excited?

I'll have to set this aside for now. It's late anyway, and I should probably go back to studying. Maybe tomorrow I can find out if Ruth and Jath are still in Acomb. Milo goes out there often. I'm sure that he'll be willing to look around for me.

Crossing her legs and leaning back in her chair, Lia couldn't steer her mind away from how much she wanted to get the answers for herself. Milo doing the research took away the vibrance of what those two had to say. She needed to hear it from their mouths directly. That way, the truth of Parselta would be carried through their words.

That, and she wanted to speak to Ruth again.

I do want to see her. I guess it has been a while since I last had a lovely conversation like that. She seems nice. I guess I should go out and look for her myself. I think she might prefer me over Milo, even though he is very polite. I don't know. I just don't know. Whatever the case is, tomorrow morning, I'll go out to that town and find them. I really don't want to hear any complaints from the others, but that's not my focus. Jath and Ruth both lost Parselta—not them. Alright, tomorrow it is.

She glanced at the canvas one final time, debating what the future held. What kind of picture would be painted? There was no way to tell for sure. She didn't know what she wanted. Not even close.

512 years ago

Dawn had broken and the aftermath of the previous night's battle was more apparent than before. As Ienetta stood at the edge of the castle roof, she couldn't take her eyes off the many dead that littered the grounds before the fortress. The light of the Spector Moons, once a glowing source of life, had now transformed into the illumination of the unimaginable.

To think that she and her fellow fawns had created such devastation made her want to vomit. She was a strong soul. At the age of thirty-three, her life had taken her to all ends of the planet. This war—one that spanned across all lands – endangered every fawn in existence. Ienetta felt the call of the future upon her. If she and the others did not act, then the war would reach its destined conclusion.

The extinction of one side, and then the death of Locwitary itself.

If every fawn were to die, then there would be no way to stabilize the tide of disease and injury that came at the hands of this world. The planet held an unbalanced food chain, yet every animal played their role in nature. There could be no more, but there could be no less than the expected status quo.

These women of blue flame were connected with the world in ways that the poils could never know. Their powers were birthed from a dormant energy that channeled itself into their bodies, creating a species that was fit to bend the laws of physics and oversee it as time passed on.

Or, so the stories went.

But killing all the poils would have left its own imbalance. There was a reason why the population of fawns was so low. It was as if they were never meant to mass produce. Their asexual nature of reproduction was a hint at their purpose, but many communes held different beliefs regarding the matter. Some fawns had successfully reproduced with poils in the past, but the infants often died at birth, as the poil DNA could not withstand the influx of magic that these ladies naturally exuded.

Those that made it to childhood… It was never a pleasant end. This war had revealed the worst of everyone.

Ienetta wondered how she and the others would carry on if they brought the poils to their end. They were the other half of Locwitary. They were supposed to share this world together. What would be left of the fawns if they lost who they were in the process of saving themselves?

Locwitary had created these women to preserve life. Killing was the opposite.

A tear ran down Ienetta's pale, freckled cheek as she thought about this. She stopped counting the number of poils whose lives she had ended. The number was up there for all four fawns. For a moment, she regretted ever having been gifted the powers of a surge. It felt like a massive burden that her soul no longer wished to bear.

She never wanted to take a life, but in times of great ruin, the surges were supposed to be there to step in. Years of trying to talk the poils out of this war had only seen innocent ladies perish, so now, surges like her and the others had to contend with the hardest of decisions.

Decisions that made her want to relinquish her powers and jump off the edge of this tall structure.

"Locwitary, please forgive me," she whispered at the air, listening to the whistling of the wind as it swam past her ears. "I do not know who I am anymore."

A bright flash of blue particles appeared at her right side. It did not startle her. She already knew who this was.

Reseppia materialized out of the light, her body reforming in a near instant. Approaching Ienetta, the smaller fawn peeked over the edge of the castle as she crept forward. With a sigh, the young woman placed her hand on the shoulder of her dearest friend, lamenting the previous night. "I've never seen a fight this destructive," she said.

Ienetta kept a still face, barely registering any form of emotion, now that Reseppia had appeared. "I fear that this won't be the largest that we'll see."

"Do you think so?"

Grunting, the dark-haired woman nodded. "They keep searching for us. We've been pushed out from many places. This castle may be our final hiding spot."

"Hiding?" Reseppia tilted her head, glancing down at the stones beneath her sandaled feet. "It's not exactly inconspicuous."

"I know," she stated, breathing out a long exhale as she turned around, her emerald eyes peeking at Reseppia for a brief bit. Ienetta looked so exhausted. She was exhausted. Being the oldest of the batch, it was her responsibility to lead the other three through combat and ensure their survival. What made things difficult was that she had no understanding of combat.

Relying on their powers was the safest bet for the fawns, but every ounce of magic had its limits. If one of the fawns went too hard, their naturally flame-resistant skin would soon blister and burn. It could only take so much heat before it needed to heal, and sometimes the poils forced them to keep dodging and moving. Arrows upon arrows would rain down on the fawns. Their senses could only allow them to pick up on the travel of so many at once.

Eventually, one was bound to hit its mark.

That was how they lost Jasseilla. When that arrow pierced her skull, there was no way for Ienetta or the others to get to her in time. She was as good as dead, and the battle at that old creek was still far from over. The poils had sprung from the bushes in the dead of night, attacking without warning as soon as they could rear their weapons. The fawns could have quickly incinerated them, but because they had not wished to fight, their powers were kept at bay.

That was the last time Ienetta hesitated. After that, she had sworn that she would never take chances on the fates of her sisters. She killed her first poil that night. Her first several. It had been a few years, but she remembered it as if it was the previous hour.

"Then we should move, yes?" Reseppia clutched the arm of Ienetta's gown, signaling her desperation to relocate to a safer place. She didn't have the heart for this war. Everyone knew it. This young fawn, barely over the age of eighteen, had been thrust into a life of violence. It was the opposite of what she wanted, but her calling was one that she answered with a strict sense of duty.

If her sacrifices could one day pave the road for a better existence for all fawns, then what she lost would be found by others, and that, to her, was worth it.

Ienetta began to walk across the roof, with Reseppia following her in tow. "Deas is a small region. Joulin and Tyillioum are populated with poils. We cannot hide amongst those who may seek to kill us."

Reseppia, with her hands eagerly joined at her back, leaned forward as she sought to make eye contact with Ienetta as they walked. "Have you heard the stories of a group of fawns and poils working together?"

"I have heard the stories." Ienetta grimaced as she sighed. "Yes."

"Rumor even has it that they are searching for a way to escape this world!" Reseppia increased her pace, hoping to keep up with her friend. "It sounds crazy, I know, but what if…"

"Reseppia!" Ienetta groaned, only to catch her anger midair before it could leave any lingering scars. "Forgive me, but you know how I feel with the idea of tinkering with the other realms. The fact that some are even considering toying with it causes me great alarm."

"But do you think we will one day find the power to do so?"

"That is what I am afraid of," Ienetta said as she reached for Reseppia's hand. Their palms interlocked, and within seconds, both ladies began to float into the air, their bodies encircled by a familiar blue aura. "We are still learning what else is out there."

As she levitated with her, Reseppia glanced up at the Spector Moons, which were still cresting over the mountains in the far distance. "It is most intriguing, is it not?"

Ienetta shook her head, guiding Reseppia to the grass below as they prepared to clean up the remains of the dead. "When you start interfering with the natural order, introducing things that were never supposed to be in a world, it upsets the balance. Even more importantly, what would happen if someone accidently opened a path to a destructive world?"

"Oh!" Reseppia lifted her finger in the air as soon as her knowledge kicked in. "Like the infectious strings of worlds? I have been studying those profusely for the last year. They are most vile, if what I studied is factual."

"Yes," Ienetta clarified. "Those."

Reseppia nodded. "It would be terrible if someone were to accidently expose a healthy world to one such as them, yes."

The two of them landed onto the ground, surveying the tasks ahead. It would be a short haul, but a dreadful one. Still, Ienetta could not shake her worries about the future. "It is not the accidental that I fear, but the intentional."

Present Day

Falena lay back in her chair, her legs crossed once again, a nertef gripped in her right hand, while an open book lay sprawled in her left. Chewing on the delectable fruit, her eyes sat downcast on the page before her, even if she may not have divided much of her attention to reading it. It must have just been all for show, but who was Lia to say? The blonde fawn clearly expressed boredom or some longing sense of loneliness. Otherwise, why would she continue to descend the steps and keep her company here?

It was a strange turn of events. According to Falena, Narratha was still recovering from the battle in Acomb. That did not mean that the vicious redhead was absent of the ability to come down here and torment her as well. In fact, a swift punch to the face was what had awoken Lia from her several hours of restless sleep.

The murderous woman was still intent on getting her to join them. But as always, Lia bluntly refused, telling Narratha that she needed to abandon such ideation. It earned another punch to the mouth, as well as a couple extra threats of mutilation.

As much as Lia wished to inquire as to the whereabouts of her sister, Leta, and her dearest love, Cassandra, she didn't want to give Narratha the idea to go out and search for them. During the battle, the redhead had focused solely on her, ignoring the child once the fight raged on. Lia's powers were extraordinary, and it was evident that the killer found interest in them.

Those monsters that she had unleashed upon the people were devouring the town. Lia had occasionally glanced down during the aerial scuffle and witnessed the slaughter below. Poils were being torn to shreds by those horrific beings—beasts the likes of which she could never have imagined. Their long tongues were like whips, impaling and bisecting both man, woman, and child alike.

How Narratha could have ever thought to sick such destructive things upon this world was beyond her. Lia assumed that she had paid no mind to the consequences of her actions, seeking only to kill, not regarding the poison that she had introduced to Locwitary.

After Milo and Vasan had been murdered, it seemed as though the massacre was about to peak with Lia obliterating both Falena and Narratha in their tracks. They tempted her to dispel their end at every turn, but true to her nature, Lia could not find it in herself to kill another fawn. However, as she stayed her hand, more poils were beginning to die.

That was when she realized how wretched these creatures were. Narratha had opened a direct path to this world, eliminating the chance for the barriers to filter out any special qualities, like they had done to Cassandra. The monsters carried a sinister virus, which had begun to infect the poils and render them into mindless husks of their former selves.

Lia shivered to think that these people had been brought back from the dead. Such a thing should have never been possible, but there was no telling just what was possible in those other realms. Knowing that this virus would likely reach the other communities, Lia decided she needed to act. It was the easiest, yet hardest, choice to make.

She knew that she needed to expel all of her powers at once and, in turn, end her life. But that plan failed, and she was locked up here. How did it all go wrong?

Swallowing the bits of fruit in her mouth, Falena groaned as she flipped to the next page of her book. "Ugh! This gets so boring, you know?"

Is she just going to sit there and complain all day? I really don't want to have to listen to her.

Lia inhaled a large swath of air into her longs as she sat straight, her shackles rattling along her wrists. With her arms spread out, her muscles were so tense. She yearned to just be able to stretch and allow them to relax. This was torture, but that was the plan of these two devious women.

Did Falena find joy in this?

When a dozen seconds flew by with no response, Falena's emerald eyes set upon her prisoner. She had that usual displeased glare. Her brow was just as flat as her upper eyelids. Her frown was the cheery on top of the craft, coupled with those freckles on her thin little nose. If her voice wasn't so obnoxiously loud at times, Lia might have even found it to be somewhat cute.

"I'm talking to you…" Falena held her firm glare, her right foot swaying in the air.

"How old are you, Falena?" Lia asked, bracing herself for the pain that was about to arrive.

Eyeing her suspiciously, Falena tilted her head as her voice spoke in a dim, low tone, "Twenty."

"You act like you're twelve half the time."

Crimping her lips, Falena looked like she was ready to throw the nertef directly at Lia's head. With a huff, the fawn uncrossed her legs and sat up. She could have done anything that she wanted. There was no one here to stop her, but instead of hitting Lia, she merely took another bite of her fruit and chewed it like an angry animal.

As soon as she swallowed it down, Falena scoffed. "Is that a joke about my height?"

Huh? No. Does she really… You know what, never mind.

"You're complaining about a book, and you talk so loud," Lia remarked. "It's beginning to hurt my ears."

The chewing stopped. She spit the contents of her mouth off to the side.

Yeah, she's mad now.

Falena paused, possibly debating what her next course of action would be. "I could punch you in the face, like Narratha did. But that doesn't seem to get through to you. Do your lips still hurt? They look pretty red and swollen from here."

She couldn't have been more correct. Narratha's strong fists hardly held back when those brazen knuckles collided with Lia's soft, flat cheeks. She had pulverized the fawn's lip against her teeth. It was a miracle that one of them had not been knocked out in the process. The pain of the blow was still apparent as her tongue checked the wound. It ached at the slightest movement, but informing Falena about her tone of voice was worth it.

The blonde would not take her eyes off Lia. She wouldn't allow that form of disrespect to go unanswered. Sitting forward with her elbow on top of her knee in that trademark pose of hers, the petite fawn rested her chin in the palm of her hand as she narrowed her eyes. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you."

Lia did just that.

Falena juggled a growl within her throat as the book in her hand swayed from left to right, dangling off the edge of her hips. "Allow me to let you in on a little secret: you can die here."

What a surprise.

Despite the treacherous circumstances that loomed ahead, Lia wouldn't play the part of the helpless victim. Falena may have had the upper hand right now, but the woman knew full and well just how easily her captive had overpowered her back in Acomb. The blonde may have been a surge, but she hardly seemed to have much stability over her powers.

She could barely levitate, having resorted to hurling balls of fire at Lia every chance she got. It was a cop-out, an age-old tactic of the most inexperienced fawns. Lia had been taught the history of the great conflict. The elders explained in detail how the poils decimated young surges with their arrows, as the women were too unaware to continue moving when they engaged in combat.

The purpose of the lessons was not to encourage proficiency in future violence but to be conscious that even a surge's magic was not absolute. Falena's reliance on those fireballs was proof that she was inexperienced. If the town hadn't been besieged by those monsters, it was possible that any poil could have amassed a ranged weapon and wounded her—or worse.

Lia had a hunch that Falena may not have had much experience with elder fawns. This was a common lesson taught at the youngest of their growing years. Did she even hail from a commune at all?

"Then what is the point of me being here?"

"I already told you!" Falena screamed, her calm yet tense demeanor having vanished at the drop of a hat, replaced by a scalding anger. "Why does no one listen to me?!"

She's just as unstable as Narratha is. Damn it. What is it with these two?

"I know why you brought me here," Lia elaborated, still fighting the sting in her lips. "But if I am so valuable to your cause, then what good would my death bring?"

"Ugh!" Falena quickly sat back in her chair, taking another bite of her nertef, then proceeding to speak with her mouth full, "You ask the dumbest questions."

"Then what's a smart question?" Even though Falena was dangerous, Lia was starting to lose her patience with her. The blonde constantly went back and forth, contradicting her views on things with the way she acted and responded to them. Getting her mad was a gamble, but there was no guarantee on what the right formula was to do so.

It seemed as though just about anything could set her off. The biggest problem was figuring out what the repercussions would be.

Falena gulped down her bite. "A smart question would be: how can I get out of here?"

You think I haven't asked myself that a million times already?

Lia decided to play into her game. "How can I get out of here?"

"Don't be smug, alright?" Falena set her book down on her lap and pointed to the brunette. "I already gave you the answer to that yesterday. If you're still asking, then you didn't listen to me."

"You want me to listen to you, is that it?" Lia had endured enough of Falena's little games. If time spent in isolation was meant to drive her insane, then it took a backseat to having to hear the blonde's ideology and undying search for conversation. Even if it was an insult or threat of abuse, the petite fawn sought to ensure that she would get a proper response.

Silence seemed to drive her mad. Ironic it was, Lia thought, how one of her captors appeared to loathe the very place she imprisoned her in. Falena stood from her chair, groaning as she debated taking it with her this time.

"I really should just beat you to death with this," Falena said as she used her powers to levitate the chair an inch from the floor. She cradled it in place, the object drifting around minimally under the grip of her magic. The way she spoke made it sound like she wasn't joking around and was currently considering the act with great interest.

Lia tempted fate. "Then just do it. I don't care, Falena."

After a pause that lasted a second, Falena's eyes centered themselves forward, her head angled at the wall nearby. She cast a thousand-yard stare, one propelled by the hijacking of her mind with the shock that raged through her veins, threatening to fuel the flames of her fire itself.

"You know something, Lia?" Falena said in a dreadfully slow manner. "Making me hate you is the worst mistake that you can make right now."

"You already hate both people in this room, Falena," Lia commented on what she had perceived from the very beginning. "What difference does it make?"

The blonde's head tilted toward her, her lips parted, and eyes slightly glassy from the distortion inside her. "Big mistake, Lia."

Falena swung the chair at her.

Two days ago

Lia stood beside her bed, casually dressing herself in her gown. Nearby was Cassandra, who was still climbing into her tight, dark robes. The brunette was only half-way done buttoning up by the time the fawn approached her. Those amber eyes set onto hers in an instant.

"Yes?" Cassandra asked with a smile.

Lia paused, catching her breath for a second. "Nothing, I just…" She closed her eyes and brought her hand along the back of the pale woman's head. Their lips were interlocked within seconds, and both ladies tongues clashed in a soft battle of romance.

Humming as she enjoyed the moment, Lia deprived her lungs of oxygen for as long as she could stand. The kissing was worth it.

If only there were more hours in the night.

Cassandra was the one who broke away first, albeit with a giggle. Lia's fingertips were gently tracing the edges of her sharp cheek bones while their foreheads pressed together. She could feel her lover's warm breath across her skin, and the tip of her nose molded with the bridge of her own shortly after.

"I've never felt like that before," Lia remarked, replaying the acts that the two of them had partaken in just hours before. Her thin, pink lips bloomed into a somewhat nervous smile as she let out a giggle as well.

"Neither have I." Cassandra rubbed her face against Lia's. The way she spoke was so pure. This was the real woman behind the darkness. All it took was a fawn's light to carry those shadows far away.

"It's quite a wonderful feeling, isn't it?" Lia tilted her head. "Perhaps, before you go, we could probably do it one more time?"

Cassandra kissed her right after, speaking whilst her lips were still molded with Lia's, "So much energy you have."

"I'm quite exhausted," Lia corrected her, "to tell you the truth. But I will find it, I swear."

"After the festival, when everything is done, I believe we'll both be exhausted." Cassandra then turned her eyes to the doorway behind them. There was that trademark smirk that went with her brow as she let her thoughts spin for a little bit. "But we can still have fun."

Why can't I ever let go of something? Damn it. Why should I?

Lia brought her hands to the unbuttoned portions of Cassandra's front, pulling her in just a little bit closer as they stood together. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and bowed her head. "Please, just one more day, please. I don't want to be left alone."

She felt Cassandra's hand rise to her chin as she inhaled the aroma of the woman's hair. She could breathe it in all day if she had to.

"You will never be left alone," Cassandra replied.

"You don't understand what kind of alone I'm talking about," Lia whispered.

"I do."

Lia sighed again. She couldn't argue it.

"I know," she whispered again, tightening and then loosening her hold on Cassandra's gown. "But when I send you home, know that I am sending a piece of myself there with you. It's a piece that I will never be able to get back."

With a glance that could only be described as a perfect mix between happiness and sadness, Cassandra's amber orbs glinted with the shine of her soul. "And I will be leaving a piece of myself with you, too. It is yours to keep, and yours forever."

Mine forever.

"I love you, Cassandra."

NOTES:

Welcome back! I hope you all enjoyed this latest chapter!

In contrast to the latest chapter of Fragmented Fawns, where we see some fawns who tried to avoid the war, this story will delve a little bit into the fawns that stayed to fight. Hmm… a battle near a castle in the region of Deas? This location sounds very familiar.

What did Cassandra see again when she went there?

Moving to Lia: it seems like she has Ruth on her mind, or at least the hope of making the girl's day better. I don't think Lia understood herself completely by this point. We'll see where her journey takes her, as Ruth will still connect to the events of Fragmented Flies.

I went heavy with the connections and lore in this chapter. In fact, chapter 34 of Fragmented Fears even showcased the first lines spoken in an auditory flashback. I'm trying my best to intertwine all of these four stories into one big thing. This may be an alternative universe/spin-off tale, but its place is still there.

What will we see in the next chapter? Well, I think Lia may finally step out of the castle and search for answers herself.

Sorry that this chapter had to be delayed by a day. Life got a little hectic, and with current circumstances, I haven't been writing as much. The next chapter will be out on July 13th, so mark your calendars.

I hope you all have a great weekend in the meantime, and thank you so much for supporting this original story! You are the best! Stay safe! 😊