Rise and Fall- Fight of Faith

Averstone

"Excuse me?" Grainger stared at Valarina, who swallowed hard and inched away just a little bit.
"I-I said that you should go visit Malice," she said shakily. Valarina was never shaky.
Grainger chose to focus on her words though, and frowned. "Where is she?" He asked.
"Prison?" Valarina squeaked out.
Grainger's frown deepened. How had Malice ended up in prison? "Which one?"
"Averstone," Valarina whispered.
Malice had landed herself in Albea Point's highest security prison?
"Ok. I'll go see her, then." Grainger went to leave the room, but paused in the doorway. "Oh, and Valarina?"
"Yes?"
"Don't stutter. It's unbecoming." And with that he walked out.
That was how, half an hour later, Grainger Turner found himself standing outside Malice's cell. Her eyes bore into his, hate harbored in the blue depths, so rich and flaming it scared him.
"Hello, Mother."
"Hello, dear son," she spat, curling into herself like a cat.
"How... how have you been?" His voice is weak. He hasn't seen his mother this vulnerable and a very long time.
Like, ever.
She gave a look that clearly stated her feelings toward the current predicament. "Oh, I'm just peachy," she drawled sarcastically. Grainger gave an awkward cough.
"Well, other than the prison thing."
"Unbelievable," Malice scoffed. His hands tightened into fists on the bars.
"What's unbelievable?" He hissed out.
"Your arrogance," Malice retorted. "And your impertinance, and your stubbornness, and your self-obsession, and your weakness that almost got my daughter-in-law killed-"
She was cut off as the bars warped from Grainger's hands, and he ripped the heat-softened metal to the sides, stepping into the cell. Ice crystals swirled up his arms and neck, encasing his skin in a sheer white veil. Malice gaped, then screamed loudly as ice flew from his fingertips, melding into large spikes and impaling themselves in the wall inches from Malice's head. She reached with a tremulous hand to her ear. It came back vibrant orange-red. Her wide eyes darted back to Grainger.
"You shouldn't be able to use your powers in here," she whispered.
"You shouldn't have provoked me," Grainger snarled. "I am stronger than you know."
Clearly. Malice swallowed hard.
"Tell me son, do you plan on killing me?"
Grainger paused for a single, heartstopping second. "No," he said decisively. "Not today."
Malice blew out a long breath, despite the ambiguous delivery of his answer.
"Then what are you doing?"
He pointed a finger at her. "You don't speak of Emperess Sofia," he declared. "Not after what you did."
"What did I do?"
"You let her be tortured," Grainger hissed. "You sat by and watched as they sucked her life away. You're Malice Turner, for God's sake - you could have incinerated them, frozen them, struck them and left them dead - but instead you allowed Sofia to be hurt!"
In truth, Malice had been unconcious when Sofia was tortured, but she elected it downright moronic to mention that right now.
"Well, she's alive, isn't she?" She said flippantly. "As long as she has the will, she'll pull through."
"Is that what you thought when you abandoned me on Maverick?"
Malice freezes. "I thought we cleared this up," she said weakly.
Grainger's hand shot forward, wrapping around her neck and slamming her back against the wall. "I thought not," he growled. His grip tightened.
And it didn't relent.
"Grainger," Malice gasped out. "Grainger, please, I can't breathe."
"Good."
"Grian-!" She began choking. "Grainger,"she rasped. Her vocabulary had been reduced to just one word. "Grainger, Grainger, Grainger..." she struggled, trying in vain to draw in breath.
His hand retracted, a wicked smirk spreading across his lips as she fell to her knees, gasping for air.
"Now you see what happens to to traitors," he hissed, and walked out.
And as Malice knelt there gasping, only one thought crossed her mind.
Grainger's eyes had stayed blue.