Animi Motus

14: Piget(new pov)

It's so dark. I've always been afraid it. Slept with the lights on when I was little. And now it's surrounding me.

I can barely breathe. I can't talk, can't open my eyes. All I can feel is Asher's hand, which I'm holding in a death grip.

I can feel us descending. The dirt is gliding by around me, tickling my skin. It gives me goosebumps.

The ground gives way beneath my feet, and I know we've reached Tristitia. I drop to floor with a loud crash, and Asher nearly comes down on top of me. I stand, dusting myself off and gasping for air. I look up, and come face to face with Tristitia. She's short, maybe 5'3", with dark brown hair streaked with blue reaching down to her shoulders. But none of that makes me stare in awe at her. It's the eyes. Deep, clear blue eyes stare back at me. They're incredible, and heartbreaking at the same time.

"Took you long enough," she growls.

"Huh? I mean... wait what?" I stutter.

"I heard you up there, debating and bickering over what to do," she explains, pointing at the ceiling that we came down from. "It's my thing. I have good senses."

"Oh, okay, that's cool. My thing is going through solid objects." I say stupidly.

"How nice," She says. I look around. We're in a pretty spacious white room box that I suppose served as a cell.

"I'm Asher, and my thing is teleporting, which I think we should do right now before some creepy witches bust us," He says. Tristitia raises her eyebrows.

"I'm Rosalie Locklear," She introduces herself. "Or, Legatus Tristitia or whatever."

"Nice to meet you, Rosalie. Now, if it's alright with you, I'm ready to go." Asher says calmly. He holds out his hand to Rosalie. She starts to reach for it, then stops.

"Something's not right," She breathes. "Your friends have been found out. They're being attacked. They most know you've come for me." I feel panic go through me. Suddenly, an alarm starts to blare all around us. We need to get up to the surface to help the others, and we need to get out of here. Asher grabs my hand, then Rosalie's, and suddenly I'm not looking at a blank white wall. I'm looking at the carnage of an all out brawl.