Like. I want to see specific arts of things and I realize I have to learn to draw to make them and I die. Bc no one else will. And I just want to make things in general.
The second installment of what has become a very long, drawn out project. Cheers.
They surveyed the destruction, the lot of them at a loss. They’d picked up readings of high magic concentration in the area, knew that something unusual had occurred, and feared that Michael Hale may be doing something catastrophic.
Mason had gone with the investigation team, along with Therabie Everlight, the high sorceress herself. The plan had been simple: observe from a distance, see if they could attempt to figure out anything about what he was attempting to accomplish, and go back home.
They hadn’t expected Michael’s home to be leveled.
“Who could’ve done this?” Therabie asked quietly, concern clear in her voice. Whatever could be worse than Michael Hale, Mason certainly didn’t want to be on its bad side.
“Orders?” He asked, eyes trained on the ruin.
Therabie gestured for the group to move forward, and they did.
The place had been obliterated, only a few sections of wall left standing, so much dust clouding the air that Mason could barely see in front of him.
But he heard a voice. Quiet, shaking, small.
He followed the sound, finding a child. A little girl. She had her arms wrapped around her knees and was rocking back and forth, staring into the distance as she quietly cried, “I’m sorry,” on repeat.
Mason fell to his knees, reaching out to the girl.
Her head didn’t move, though her eyes cut to him instantly. Upon closer inspection, he was struck by how familiar she looked.
She looked like her father.
Mason hesitated. They’d heard of her, Michael’s precious daughter, his gleaming jewel. His Emerald.
She was frozen now, staring at him. Tears still cut through the dust on her face even as her expression shifted.
He spoke softly, as gently as he could.
“You are Emerald Hale, yes?”
The girl continued to stare at him, unable to hide the tremble in her hands.
He was aware of movement behind him and looked back to see that Therabie had found them. She knelt as he had, and Emerald’s eyes cut to her for a moment before locking back on Mason.
“Hey, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you,” he said carefully.
Therabie stared at the girl with a distraught expression, “Gods, she’s just a child.”
Emerald was still frozen, though he could see the tears welling in her eyes, threatening to spill.
He stood, backing away, tugging Therabie’s sleeve as he did. She moved as well, stepping back to join him, far enough away for them to have a semi-private conversation, though still within Emerald’s line of sight.
“What do we do with her?” Mason asked.
Therabie ran a hand over her face, “I- gods, Mason. I don’t know. She’s… dangerous. She could be a threat to all of Cathran. And she’s just… a child.”
Mason shook his head, looking at the girl, who sat still, watching them, a fresh coating of tears on her cheeks.
She was terrified.
“Therabie, I really… I don’t think she’s trying to hurt anyone. I mean- she’s just sitting there. We obviously can’t just leave her here.”
“No, we can’t. But, can we trust her not to hurt anyone? Can we trust her not to destroy our entire country?”
Mason shrugged. “She’s a kid, Therabie. I’ll take responsibility for her. She’s my niece, after all.”
He didn’t like admitting his relation to his brother. He generally tried not to acknowledge the fact that he’d ever known Michael at all.
But this girl was his blood, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that she needed help.
“Mason.”
“Please, Therabie. She’s just a little girl.”
Therabie watched her for a moment, but Mason could already see that she was relenting. Finally, she nodded.
“Thank you,” Mason said sincerely before approaching Emerald once again.
The girls eyes followed him, tracking his movements, as he knelt, slightly closer this time.
“Emerald, I want to help you, please.”
She didn’t react.
“I’m Mason. Mason Hale,”
At this, her eyes widened, and she shrank back.
Terror, clear as day, colored her previously blank expression.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not…” he sighed. “I don’t think you’re like your father, are you?”
She continued to stare, her entire body tense.
He tried again, treading carefully, “Emerald, do you want to hurt people?”
Finally, after a moment, she gave him a miniscule shake of her head.
He breathed, feeling a sense of triumph at getting somewhere, even if it wasn’t far.
“I don’t want to hurt people, either. I- I know you must be scared, and that’s okay. But I want to take care of you,”
She remained frozen, though some of the tension had relaxed slightly.
“Emerald, I want to take you somewhere safe. Somewhere your father can’t get to you. Come with me, please,” and he held out a hand.
She was still for another long moment. Then, slowly, timidly…
