Day Seven DWC 6/6/26 Horrify/Render
Elutia pulled herself up that night at the Silvermoon port, but her heart was heavy. It‘s been weeks since her run-in with Lady Ravenwood, and she found out who Mellanthios is. She tries to reach out to him, to locate him, but it is as if he has disappeared into the very void itself. Perhaps he had. A part of her wants to hunt him down; another knows if he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be.
She knew he would reach out when he was ready. Lady Ravenwood said as much. Now she felt as if she were always looking over her shoulder. Waiting. Wondering. She isn’t scared, of course. She doesn’t fear death. Truthfully, she didn’t think he wanted her dead.
Unless, perhaps, he has also been brainwashed. Perhaps that is the long game, for him to be the one to render the actual retribution for what happened to Dementri Ravenwood. Frankly, she doesn’t know, and the not knowing is driving her crazy.
Weeks go by, and she throws herself into her work with those trying to save Silvermoon and the world as a whole. Some of what she sees is enough to horrify even the most veteran of fighters. It feels like the more they eradicate, the more that comes. She is exhausted, pushing herself to her limits. Many times dropping from exhaustion. But no matter how much she does, how much she tries to keep herself busy. He is always in the back of her mind.
So she returns home, the last place she saw him. Perhaps he would show up there. Though if everything she knew is so, he will have completely accepted the dagger. She isn’t sure how powerful that will make him, especially since he is trained heavily by Lady Ravenwood, who is almost an anomaly in herself. There is no telling how she has enhanced him or how long she has been training him. It had to have been years, probably from the moment she received the letter from Emperria.
She makes it home and pauses in front of the door, taking a deep breath. The house is dark. Most of the occupants are gone. They were also a part of the war effort that she had just left. She enters the house, able to see well even in the dark. She makes her way to the living room and doesn’t even bother turning on a light, and sits down with an exhausted sigh.
A voice, soft and deep, breaks the silence of the room, making her tense immediately and on guard. But it is a voice she recognizes.
“Welcome home, Grandmother. I think you know why I am here.”
@daily-writing-challenge
