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Deceased { Elizabeth Kane }
- Thread starter NIAH
- Start date
Her shift ended uneventfully, which was a blessing in and of itself after the most recent incursion. Since the initial attack against Olive, she and Charles slept in turns throughout the long nights to prevent being caught unaware. Each night she lit a small candle nub only to watch it burn to the smoking wick; the hours passing with lingering uncertainty and anticipation for potential movement on the wooden balcony outside. When the candle ran its course, she would leave her small office, and knock on her brother's door to rouse him for his round of vigilant hours. Their cooperative efforts at keeping watch had so far proved better than the fear that kept her awake endlessly beforehand; dozing and jolting awake in terror for whatever may be lurking after her.
This night, however, she knew that there were more terrors than just that which prowled the darkness. Elizabeth knocked firmly upon Charles door as the chamberstick's flickering light danced across her weary face. A sense of dread settling in as she stood atop the stair, because she knew that sleep would not be easy, if it came at all. Somewhere on the other side of the door, Elizabeth heard the shifting of movement as her brother's feet hit the creaking boards. Some vague call of acknowledgement followed, and it was enough for her to turn away. He would take guard with his maps and his planning, and she would disappear into the bowels that she had carved out of her parents' old home.
The house yawned to life as she triggered the hidden mechanisms in the darkened office. The vials of ink on the shelf trembled and her bare feet felt the familiar vibration in the floor as stones slid back on their tracks. Somewhere not far off, Elizabeth heard Charles's door open and shut as she stepped into the dark spiral behind the wall and breathed in the scent of rock dust as it closed off behind her. She treaded carefully with the chamberstick held aloft as the house fell quiet once more, now that the doors had closed behind her. She could have resolved to sleep the upper rooms, but there was a vulnerability when the house had already been invaded once. The glass was fragile. The boarded windows weak to an arbori's attack. The walls easily turned to dust at the ram of the dragon's shoulder. The roof crushed inward by falling boulders, like the gatehouse. No... She delved further into the recesses of the mountainside where not even the sounds of Charles moving around could reach her. It was the sanctum where not even another human could go without knowing how to breach the walls. Safety in isolation.
In this quiet, cold space she took a shuddering breath. The candle's flame danced with shadows against the shelves and crates like souls waiting for judgement in the shaded corners. On the floor, her bags sat ready and packed, with a mass of collected weapons were by the large recessed mirror. Her gazed lingered there only a moment, because her path was set to the large partition that divided a section of the room into a small sleeping area. The cot she had tucked away there was nothing impressive, but it had become a small comfort in the nights after her watches ended. Elizabeth laid the chamberstick on the floor beside the cot, and pulled back the thin, sparse cover to her chin. The candle would burn itself out soon, and in the still of the room, she lay there and stared at the soft light shifting over the wooden partition that had formed her room.
She did not want to close her eyes. The pit in her stomach spoke volumes, for Elizabeth knew what awaited her within her dreams.
She counted seconds.
Seconds becoming moments.
Moments turning into screaming. Such screaming...
The acrid smell of ash and burning. Seared flesh. The flash of fire. The cracking of wood and the screams of panic. The screams of pain. The voice of something she held no name for, calling to her. Beckoning her to sit and speak while the sky suddenly rained ash. Elizabeth looked up and saw motes of black and clouds of choking miasma wafting down, until the ash fell in thick rings on the floor around her. Covering the floor and faceless bodies.
In the distance, she heard another voice. A voice different than the screaming. A voice different than that which called to her It echoed on the howling winds and she lifted her hands to cover her ears as it became a gale of sounds. "Torch it. Burn the body. Torch it. Burn the body." Her own voice joined the symphony of chaos, repeating her words back to her as the screams and fire raging around her.
Elizabeth pressed her hands against her ears and she crumpled. The smells beginning to choke and the miasma smothering. She could feel her cheeks grow wet with sudden tears, but she could not tell if it was from the stinging of the dark cloud or from the panic and fear of everyone falling into the mire around her. They knew they were dying, and she felt their fear. She felt her own fear. Her anger and their anger. Despair. There was such despair.
She threw her hands to the disease soaked mud, thick with black ichor and cried out. Her cries turning to screams of anguish and frustration, and then terror as the ground cracked open beneath her. The faceless bodies, the mud, the ichor, and ash all cracked and sliding into the chasm forming below her. Falling, falling, falling... Reaching for the darkened sky and hearing Sophia's screams as she disappeared farther and farther into the open maw of the earth.
The impact jolted her awake, and Elizabeth shot up from the cot. Her brows covered in sweat and cheeks wet with tears, this time she was certain were her own. She turned, with a shaky breath to see that the candle had not even burned out yet. She inhaled slowly, and closed her eyes with her head resting against the wall. The night would be much longer yet, and many hours beyond before dawn would come to save her. She flipped the coarse blanket over and wearily trudged to the desk. With a quick swipe of her cheeks, she steeled her gaze to some remaining papers off to the side. There was no point to sleep when there was so much still yet to prepare before the evacuation that morning. She could sleep when they made it to Linlea alive. With a shaky hand, she reached for the quill and began writing to pass the remainder of the hours.
((Have a really edgy nightmare scene. I was writing it off and on at work. It ends a little weirdly and abruptly, but I got busy and needed to wrap up the writing exercise quickly.))
- Pronouns
- He/Him
GrapeFlavDragons
Evil
ElizaBarth.
It is an accurate depiction.how francis sees elizabeth
I am okay with this comparison. Asami was the shit.