ACCISMUS || [m. aleksander]

v. Towering Flames

"I SAID I WOULD PROVE IT TO YOU"

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

THE TOWN WAS already in flames by the time they had arrived. There were piercing screams in the air— much worse than the ones she had sensed in her head. Emelyne clamped her hands over her ears, trying to keep her fear in check as the horse neighed, coming into a fierce and abrupt stop. She immediately leapt off the horse, surveying the damage.

"Damned Druskelle," She murmured softly, flinching as fire crackled in the air. She could feel Aleksander's presence beside her, the air cooling and thickening with tension.

"They destroy," he answered simply. His voice was a bit too calm and collected for her liking, but Emelyne elected to ignore it. "It matters not who, to them." His sharp gaze swept over the area for any signs of danger, keeping his guard up. Aleksander immediately disengaged from his horse. "Stay here," he ordered quietly, his voice carrying a harsh edge of command. His sudden change in demeanor stunned her.

"They're innocents. Not even Grisha," she murmured, her hands tightening into fists. Flames danced in the air, its searing heat brushing her skin instantly vanquishing her coldness. 

Her amber eyes glowed in the sparks as children were dragged from their homes as the blood of their parents tainted the earthen grounds. She felt it. She felt it all. Their grief, their pain, their suffering, and their suffocating fear. She shut her eyes tightly, willing the feeling to subside.

He frowned, stepping closer and reaching out to touch her. The tip of his fingertips brushed against her cheek, the heat of his touch seeming to ease her skin, soothing her from the terror of the flames surrounding them. "Emelyne," Aleksander voiced a warning. "They may not be Grisha but you are."

"Then let Fjerdans come," she turned to him, her eyes blazing with fury, "Being a Grisha is a gift, is it not? A gift over those who are not blessed at all. A power strong enough to tear them apart and bury them in the ground."

Aleksander narrowed his eyes. He didn't seem to mind her wrathful expression or the way her eyes glowed in the firelight, but his hand still firmly wrapped around her arm. "Too many of them! Emelyne, you're not being logical here. We're not in Ravka anymore. What we do here risks war with Fjerda!"

"Maybe you shouldn't have come with me then," Emelyne tore her arm from his grasp. "I generally don't get caught when I'm by myself."

"Does your friend know of your actions? Your nonchalance when it comes to death?"

"Annina? No, of course not. And I'm perfectly fine with her not knowing," she raised an eyebrow, "Unless you wish to speak a word with her? Besides," she ducked beneath a dilapidated house, straining under the weight of fire, "You cannot be the one to speak of death, can you, General?"

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he followed her, "Of course." He seemed almost amused by her threat, "But you do realize, sooner or later, your little friend is bound to find out who you truly are. Do you think she can handle the gravity of your nature then?"

"We've been through thick and thin together," Emelyne reached beneath the rubble, letting the energy thrumming through the earth to guide her. "She may be furious... but Anna will understand." Her voice paused, almost hesitant before she swallowed her fears and mustered a smile, "She'll understand." She repeated, more certain this time.

Aleksander fell silent, observing her movements. His voice sounded foreignly soft and gentle as he spoke, "The truth has a way of driving people mad. Especially when things are built on lies."