ELITA: metamorphosis

5.

ROYALHILL, MORTALLANDS

Elita snuck out of camp that morning.

She was meant to be on watchtower duty after breakfast(not that she could eat with the food crises anyway) but the discovery of her decayed flora had her travelling on the back of her brown, male horse named Daffodil to Royallhill.

She had to speak with Edna.

On her journey, she spotted a dead fox lying on the dried, straw-coloured grass. The entire land seemed to be affected now; no longer green, it resembled hay more than anything. Although she'd grown accustomed to seeing dying trees and grass and flowers on the outskirts where Camp Safeguard sat, she hadn't witnessed it this far out. It seemed the poison had spread to the heart of their faction.

The red fox appeared matted and dirty, its stomach sunken and bones visible through its pelt. Elita did not doubt that the poor thing starved to death.

She wondered how long it would be before she began to discover her own people in a similar state. El urged her horse to gallop faster.

Royallhill had become a pitiful slither of land. Located on a tall mound, the man-high walls were nothing more than piles of rocks on the ground. Buildings were half broken, no longer maintained after Edna's son got them kicked out from the Circle of Elites. There'd been riots. Fires. Luckily, Edna had managed to protect her home, garden and alchemy shed with her elixirs. To this day, it was where she and her son remained.

Elita often visited. Snuck them food or whatever else Edna requested. The older lady was still her friend, a mother figure, and she wouldn't abandon her like everyone else had. Of course, she still had her son, but the lazy bastard sat around their home most of the day moping. Feeling sorry for himself. As if he wasn't the one to cause it in the first place.

Not that Elita blamed him exactly. She always believed they'd been one bad day away from getting the boot from COEs anyway.

Elita guided her horse through the crumpled buildings before coming to a stop. In front of her was a smoky haze of crushed obsidian particles rising from the ground and stopping just shy of her knee; forming a protective circle around the older alchemist's home.

It was obvious to Elita that not even Enda's land was strong enough to survive. Her heart squeezed, because if Enda couldn't fight against whatever curse had taken hold, then there really was no chance for any of them.

Elita muttered the words which caused a break in the protective barrier. The smoke parted for her to step through and sealed back up behind her.

She found the elderly woman in her alchemy shed, frail and skinny, hunched over her table. Her once long smooth hair decorated with beads and flowers and plaits was now fizzy, matted and tied back with no decorations in sight. The split and damaged ends reached the back of her knees.

"It's me, Edna," the young girl greeted loudly. "Elita. I've come to visit."

Edna turned, slowly, a smile splitting her thin lips. "E-Elita, dear, I-I'm so happy t-to see y-you."

Elita closed the distance and gave her a gentle hug. Edna was shorter than her now, a combination of Elita growing up and Edna's hunched posture making her appear smaller than she was. "I've missed you."

"M-me t-too. Y-you look tired." Edna frowned, pulling back and giving Elita a once over. She noted the expression on her face. "What's h-happened?"

Elita cursed mentally. Edna mustn't have been outside yet. She knew Edna spent most of her days mixing ingredients. Creating a multitude of elixirs for Elita to take back with her. She'd only step outside to water her plants, something she guessed she had yet to do.