Unalloyed Needle
The rot infested crystalian shattered, and Fyra took up her seal, casting law of regression to cure herself of scarlet rot. She reached at her belt for her lanturn, holding it up in the air to spread the light around a little more.
Overgrown plants, books upon books, diagrams of formulas and calculations. Not ontly that, everything seemed… Small.
Short desks, small chairs, like for a child.
The were very deep in Elphael, and it seemed the finally found where Miquella devised his unalloyed gold, and his plans to cure the curses his sister and himself had been born with.
“This is it…” Fyra begann looking, combing through everything to try and find something. A needle was not even needed, just a hunk of the metal. She scrambled for anything at all, finally opening a box, inside containing what she was looking for.
“How do we know they will work?” Melina asked, looking around the room curiously.
Fyra took one between her fingers, looking at it carefully. Finally she held out her arm, biting her lip anxiously.
Melina turned to her sharply. “What are you-”
“The lost grace is from the Greater Will… if this can block you from the influence of a god of rot, then it will work on me too.”
“You can’t use yourself, Fyra-”
Frya slipped the needle into her arm, the act no worse than a pinch. She blinked, and then looked up, slowly turning to look behind her.
Melina had an expression on her face for once. Concern. But what Fyra noticed most of all, was that there was no gold.
No trail of light, nothing at all. Then she pulled the needle out.
Slowly, very slowly, the gold began to shimmer again, filling the room, again forming a glowing trail of grace. Fyra let out the breath she had been holding.
It worked.
“Can you see it still?” Melina asked, voice strained.
“I can.”
Relief. Melina’s eye close and she let out a long slow sigh. She opened it again and her eye moved, looking out the doorway.
“If we are already here… Shall we not?”
“There will come a time where her rune will have to be handed over to someone.” Fyra said, the needle clutched in her hand, “But that won’t be today, it might not even be me.”
“It should be you.” Melina affirmed, “Gideon believes it should as well.”
“Well… I don’t know yet.” Fyra carefully wrapped the needle up, and set it in a small box to keep it safe, “I just want to be happy.”
She put the mall box into her pack. “Thank you for helping me get this far… I have it from here.”
“... If that is your desire… But I will be near, should you have need of me.”
