Do you know what it feels like to be firmly enveloped in a never-ending sense of dark, venomous, Stygian numbness? Or a delirium hysteria etched so deeply into your soul that you lost knowledge of where it even belongs? Or the agonizing ache you ex...
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Alan's hands moved with ease; underlying experience lining every swift movement. I watched intently as he crushed the Askinite with a smooth stone, the microscopic particles spreading like brutally bruised sandstone. I watched as the fatal plant screamed and wailed in an unnerving protest. I watched as he added it to fresh-water, the liquid turning a formidable sap green with an indistinct tinge of an oxide of chromium. I watched as shades of yellow and gold became more apparent; the colour evolving into a dense green with hues of Terre Verte. I watched as he consumed the murky mixture without hesitation, only to start coughing violently afterwards. I watched as Alan's hands gripped the mahogany wooden table beside him, his knuckles straining, his jaw set tightly as he was waiting impatiently for the seemingly eternal consequences and effects of the solvent to wear off.
Our eyes lock after a few long moments of deafening, sickly silence, "How long will it last?"
"The dosage was quite large. Enough to do what I had planned," He says, slightly massaging the area under his jaw where his erratic pulse would be.
"How long?"
He sighs, "A week if not more,"
"Do you have more?"
"Wasted the last amount on you. You must feel honoured."
I snort in an unladylike way, earning a surprised glance from Alan.
"What did you mean by Rosseforp?"
Alan begins looking to the side, his vision becoming washed away and pulled into the catastrophic storm that is an utter reality.
"Your real ancestry...Have you never heard of the Rosseforps? Didn't you get educated?"
I can't help but scoff at his reply,
"I've realised it's my surname. What kind of heaven do you think I live in? Education? Only nobles and Royals can afford that, and nobody knows of shapeshifters in Wyvernbush."
