Hello, fellow people. I got a few requests to see what Squirm looks like so here he is^^ But Squirm doesn't have the fluffy stuff on his tail, he's got the tail in the top right corner : ) And don't worry, the weekly meme is at the end of the chapter.
Holland
The world was silver. A bright, lively color that made everything quiet. Like he had been dipped in velvet.
And then Holland blinked and it was like rising out of water. Everything slammed into him. The tiny, baren room. The wheezing and choking.
Holland was keenly aware of the goddess behind him as he rushed to Norah in the middle of the room. Blood pooled around her like cheaply spilled wine and splattered across the wood floors with every cough.
"Norah! Norah!" He dropped beside her, hands hovering as they hovered over her, clueless. "Hey, kid, it's me."
She stared at him through vacant, glossy eyes. Shadows and bruises stuck out like sore thumbs against her too-pale skin. She was on her side and Holland rolled her onto her stomach. Blood drooled past her lips and dripped to the floor with every cough and wheeze.
"Get her to heal herself," the goddess demanded, looming like stone beside him.
"She doesn't know how!" Holland tore off Norah's black, soaked sleeves and wrung out the blood. He tore off strips of the fabric and wrapped them around her thighs where the wounds were bone-deep. He checked her back, where the clothes were shredded. The longest injury ran from her shoulder to her hip and was as wide as his wrist.
"We didn't work on that," he added a bit softer. They'd focused on the black tendrils far more than the gold and now he wished it had been the opposite.
Holland bent over, head to the floor. Eye to eye with Norah. He shook her head gently, hoping the movement would drag her gaze up.
It did.
"Use the gold, kid." His heart pounded. "You can do it, heal yourself."
But he knew she couldn't. She'd lost too much blood. He'd be lucky enough if she understood what he was saying.
He straightened and ripped off the legs of her pants, everything below mid-thigh, and tore more strips. He scanned the gushing wounds on her legs-
Her ankles.
Oh, gods... The backs had been sliced. Her achilles cut.
Holland knew exactly who'd done this. Someone who honed their lethal skills on their victims. Who cut the back of his neighbor's achilles and despised Norah so much they'd hunted her down just to cut and slash and hack up her body beyond recognition.
Quinnlyn.
Holland focused that surging, blistering rage into tearing more strips and knotting them, and pressing them onto Norah's wounds.
He wished Riveta were here, but he also didn't. It was safer if she stayed away. He didn't trust what this goddess would do after Norah was fixed up.
"Get her to heal herself," the goddesses voice was harsher. "You are wasting time fixing something that she can mend."
Holland tried his hardest not to scowl at her. "What? How do I do that?"
"You know her best." Was all she said. Like that was some fucking miracle advice.
But Holland thought, flipping through his memories to remember every time he'd seen more gold than black. The ghost she killed. The workout that turned into them wrestling. Family game night.
She had been happy.
Holland felt the puncture marks in Norah's back as he pressed a bundle of cloth there. Felt her chest hitch and shake as she struggled to breathe.
"So," he drawled, trying to sound light and amusing. "Who'd you piss off this time?"
He searched her face side-long, looked for the slightest twitch in her face--her eyes. But there was just her breathing and coughs.
"I told you that tongue would get you in trouble," he said and winced as the black snakes on her body withered. Like they were trying to strangle something.
At least he knew she was still conscious enough to hear him.
He almost asked the goddess for a needle and thread, but the tendrils were already eating at the cloth he had stuffed in her wounds. Holland scrambled for ideas. Making someone happy while they bled out wasn't something he'd done before, but he remembered a story Riveta told him of a little boy she'd helped in the emergency room. She'd told stories to calm him down. To make him laugh as someone carefully peeled the burnt skin off his body.
"I guess it's only fair I patch you up." A bundle of white cloth suddenly appeared beside him. He took it, laying them over the wounds. "I can't tell you how many times your mom patched me up. There was this one time, back when I was a rash kid and there was this fight and it just started to rain. Like really weird rain and I ran to jump on Galeur but the rain was mage made and had oil in it, so I jumped and slipped. I cut myself on his scales and fell on this rock that left a nasty bruise in my back. Cedric still reminds me of it."
He glanced down to find glossy eyes on him. Exhausted but calm. Not a shred of fear.
"And then," he emphasized, dipping his chin at her. "I had to face your mom covered in blood and oil and just gross war stuff and you'd think that with all those romance novels she reads, she'd see a handsome soldier like me limping in and be impressed. Nope. She wasn't impressed by my manliness at all."
The black tendrils had fallen from her face, fallen beneath her dirty, bloodied clothes.
It was working.
"I didn't complain. Didn't cry, not once," he continued. "I probably should have, but knowing what I do now she would have told me I deserved those tears. And you'd think with her being so caring and loving and sweet that she'd be nice to me, but she was like a dragon, yelling at me so loud the entire hospital avoided the hallway we were in. And that was when, Norah, I knew I'd marry your mom."
Norah's lips twitched upward.
Holland turned his attention down to the gash on her stomach and found lazy, gold tendrils making their way down her hip. Nowhere near the gash on her back that needed priority, but it was a start.
"But that wasn't nearly as bad as when I fell asleep in the snow." He shook his head. "Oh, wait, I have a better one. This was after the war and Riveta had married me. But Cedric and I--we'd decided that we'd take Farren on a camping trip. We didn't really want to invite Ahren, and Ingren hadn't joined up yet, so we hiked three days up the side of this mountain and we each got our own tents. And." He blew out a breath. "Farren doesn't go camping. He doesn't like the wilderness at all, and we set up our tent and everything and I'm inside my tent, unrolling my sleeping bag and blowing up the bedroll to go underneath it and the wind is raging and then I hear Farren cursing. Kid--that man can curse. I mean, I don't understand a lick of it, but it sounds colorful."
Her lips twitched. Either a wince or a meager smile.
"And I hear Cedric calling out to his dragon as I'm crawling out of my tent to see Farren's tent up in the wind like a kite." Holland flashed a smile. "But the dragons are just watching all of this with this satisfaction because they didn't want to be up at the top of some rocky mountain and thought this would be the final straw that sent us packing.
"And then Cedric's tent gets swept off the mountain too!" he said. "He manages to convince his dragon to try and get it but it's a dragon with teeth and claws so when Slade comes back, the tent is shredded and I'm in hysterics. And were all determined to finish this trip--even Farren--and I'm all for it until Galeur points out that two giant men are going to be sleeping in my tent, which seemed pretty big for one person but for two six-foot dragons riders? Can you imagine that, kiddo?"
A small bob of her head. Her eyes were lit like two, hazy stars.
"An entire week, I spent like that," he went on, trying to subtly watch as the gold tendrils. "They're both sound sleepers and didn't move much, but my face was smashed into the tent all night. Now when we go camping, I make sure to remind them to hammer down their tents, and they remind me of when I fell on a rock."
The wounds were healing slowly. Removing the purple fingerprints around her throat and the white band beneath them that looked smooth and rough like rice imprints. He noticed the same thing beneath the blood on her wrists.
His chest twisted, but he needed her better.
So he went on.
"And then this other time I fell asleep in the snow, I was just so tired and it was only supposed to be twenty minutes but it ended up being like an hour-and-forty-minutes and I was a bit delusional-"
Norah puckered her lips in mock hurt.
He made a face at her that made her eyes twinkle and the gold tendrils flutter. "I knew I had to get warm so I started jogging and doing jumping jacks and if I hadn't been in such super shape, I would have died or lost my legs. And you can guess how your mom reacted when she found out."
Holland couldn't' see any more open wounds, just pink scars where they had been. But some could still be hiding beneath her clothes that hadn't been ripped or dissolved and he didn't want to strip the kid or ask if she was still hurting and ruin her mood.
"You sound like a trouble maker." The words were clunky and muffled like her tongue was frozen.
Relief splashed over him. Holland smiled, bobbing his head. "Just a little bit." His smile faded as exhaustion swept over her. "Is anything hurting?"
He checked for oozing blood on her but he could only find scars and bones and lazy tendrils.
"It always hurts," Norah rasped, eyes fluttering shut.
The floor creaked and Vaella was bending over, her staff planted in the ground as she pressed a finger to Norah's forehead.
Holland stiffened, ready to ask what she was doing when Norah's eyes fluttered open and widened. Rage sparked like flint on steel and she slapped the god's hand away.
"Get away from me!" she seethed, all of her exhaustion gone. Replaced by rage.
"What did you do?" Holland asked hurriedly, moving to crouch between the two.
"Sleep gives Etin the opportunity into your mind." Vaella straightened, tucking her wings in tight. "I have rebuilt the walls within your head and have removed your need to sleep."
"What a typical god," Norah snapped. "Taking things without asking."
"Etin must not know where you are or who accompanies you," she answered. "I have eliminated such risk."
Norah's arms trembled as she forced herself onto her elbows. "You gods never give things for free, what do you want?"
"Your gratitude will suffice."
Norah surged. The air shrank away, fearing the lion's bite as black rushed down her arms--filled her fingers, her legs.
Holland was up the moment he saw that snap of her control. He put himself between Vaella--who didn't step back but straightened and flared out her wings--knowing that Norah's body had been through hell and she wouldn't make it to her knees-
Her legs caved, like dry branches snapping in two. Holland eased her down to the floor, even as Norah withered, trying to push him away before freezing, her muscles rigid.
Holland unwrapped his arms from around her and let her schooch back, noting how the tendrils had recoiled from him. Like oil-water meeting soap.
He knelt, hands set on his knees as the wood beneath Norah warped, the wall against her back caved and turned an awkward shade of yellow.
He twisted back to the goddess. "Will you give us a minute, please?"
Ash-black eyes bore into him. Weighing. Considering. They flicked to Norah and hardened, determining the risk of leaving her alone.
"Very well." She didn't sound happy. "I do not have time to waste with such nonsense. I will be back." Her spear cut a ripple into the air and the goddess disappeared into it.
Holland settled on the floor, giving Norah a moment to cool her molten rage. "So," he drawled, turning to her. "Making friends wherever you go, huh?"
Norah's face had gone blank. A cold, expressionless face but Holland could see the wrath seething below the surface. He could feel it burning in his chest, could see the tendrils withering and constricting her arms, her calves, and neck. Like it just needed one thing--one out of turn breath or blink--before it unleashed into the world.
Holland knew that Norah would never intentionally hurt him. It's why the tendrils had recoiled from him when he touched her. But he would still be careful. Accidents happened all the time and Norah's could be lethal.
"I looked for you for three days," he murmured, his face softening.
Her anger faltered. The tendrils slowed. Brown eyes flicked to him, then to the floor.
Holland carefully stepped over the blood until he could pull Norah into him and hold her. She pressed into him, her body taut like a metal string, her bones jabbing him. She smelled like sweat and blood and dirt. Her hair was slanted, cut just below her shoulders with rough, uneven ends.
Holland sighed, cheek pressed to her head, one hand cupped behind her head. Month's worth of tension dripped out of him, but never fully left. Norah was alive but the goddess would be back.
"I heard about Blackwell," he said gently. "I'll hunt him down for what he did."
Norah didn't move, didn't relax.
So he bent over her just enough to see her face. Dark, flat eyes were already locked onto him.
"Okay," she said. Like she didn't believe it. Like she was still too angry to care.
"Can you tell me what happened?" he asked. "Where did you go? How did you leave?"
Irritation flashed across her eyes. She focused on the wall she had warped, her voice low. "I left dressed as a guard. Everyone was panicking and trying to force their way into the trams so much they needed guards on board to keep them calm. No one ever stopped to question me as I got on.
"Etin gave me this boost," she continued. "I didn't feel weak or tired. I could run and walk and think and when I reached the city, I dumped the clothes and stole some new ones. There had been a flood recently and the river I saw had strong currents so I created a little bubble for me beneath the water and lazy-rivered my way down. Etin was gone by then, he'd spent too much energy on getting me out and I was starting to feel tired." She sighed, shrinking in on herself. "They didn't let me sleep in the cells."
She sounded like she was trying to defend herself for feeling tired. Like she wanted to keep going, to keep getting farther away from Khalier but stopped.
"Dagen found me," she said. "He took me back to this hotel and found some clothes and whatever while I slept. And then," her voice quieted. "I woke up to those skeletons choking me. I mean," she added quickly. "I knew Etin would turn on me, it is Etin, I just--I thought I had time to get away first, but, uh, long story short, they had the upper hand and I just heard Quinnlyn raging at them.
"She did not like them trying to kill me," she said. "And while they fought I got into the elevator with her chasing after me. And as soon as the doors closed I realized what I did. Dagen took me up the stairwell before and it was right next to the elevator, I knew Quinnlyn would beat me down so I kinda panicked and then I thought and I got off on the second floor instead."
Holland knew this much, but he listened. He hadn't known that Silent Stalkers had been there. He only saw Quinnlyn and then their presence later in the forest.
"I found a room with people inside and I couldn't go to the first floor, or up, so I jumped and ran and found myself in a forest. You probably saw the video, right?"
"Of you falling out a window and throwing a phone at Quinnlyn?" he asked, managing a small smile.
She glanced up at him, lips pressed tight. The closest he'd get to a smile. "Yeah. But I got to the forest and everything caught up. Quinnlyn was there, the Silent Stalkers, and I rolled down this hill and Vaella was just there. She scared off Quinnlyn, and killed the skeletons and started giving some big speech, but I didn't understand a word and was a little busy at the time. So she pokes my head, and long story short I ended up here. I didn't tell her I already knew who she was... sort of. Khalixis showed me something with Etin and she was there, so yeah..."
Holland stroked the back of her head with a thumb, letting her settle before asking, "do you want to discuss your actions leaving Khalier?"
"No."
"That was a rhetorical question."
She cut a look at him, nostrils flaring. "What do you want me to say? I'm sorry? That I regret it? My only regret is that I didn't make it last longer."
"Norah those were innocent people," he started. "None of them hurt you."
A flicker of dark, amusement. She pulled away from him and Holland felt a sliver of hurt stab him. "You know what they did and I killed them for it."
Realization sank in. The notebook the healer wrote in never explicitly mentioned how many people were in that cell, but he implied that there had been more than one. "They hurt you." He thought for a moment. "But you left Carrington alive."
Maybe it hadn't been her killing those people. It had been Etin.
"He wasn't immediately trying to kill me." She wished she had, Holland could see it in her eyes.
Holland paused, his hope stomped out. "What about the other people?" he asked. "Over a hundred-and-fifty people are dead, kid, and more are hurt."
"What about them?" Cold, flat words.
"Norah, none of them hurt you." He shifted to get a better view of her. "They were innocent, they-"
"They would have happily handed me over to Blackwell if they'd gotten the chance."
"Are you going to punish an entire population because of something other people have done?" The words were a bit cold. A bit hurt. "Or what they might do?"
Something dark and cold deepened her eyes. It wavered. She knew he was right and Holland knew she was too stubborn to admit it. She said evenly, "I can count on one hand all the good people I've ever met."
Holland's heart thundered, even as it splintered. Devastation plunged his stomach down, took away his words. He could only stare at his kid who had killed innocent people. Who, five years ago would have never imagined herself doing something so... horrible and not cared.
He had thought... He had fought to believe she didn't do that. Not without good reason, not without some kind of guilt. He wanted to believe Etin forced her into it. But that dark, joy he'd seen in the videos, when she destroyed everything and killed so many people, that was her. It was all her.
Norah straightened, her gaze finding him. The cold fell in her face, sinking into hurt. Holland knew Riveta would feel it too, would worry but...
He rubbed his jaw, raked his hands through his hair. "Look," he said softly, feeling drained. "Right now, this is a protective place from Etin."
"No, it's not." Something like shock, like hurt, and anger sharpened her voice. "She isn't doing this out of the kindness of her heart, she has an ulterior motive. She says I'm out here to protect me from Etin, but we both know I'm here because she's scared of what I can do."
"Norah, she's the Goddess of Oath and Justice," he explained. He's grown up hearing stories of her. "She's known for being fair and just."
"I'm still an expendable pawn," she snapped, tendrils withering over her body. "And I'm so tired of being everybody's puppet! Nobody ever really cared about what I wanted. Nobody asked me how I felt about being moved around from place to place or locked in some room and only allowed out when someone else permitted it. "
Holland's shoulders drooped, but he said nothing. Only listened.
Norah leaned away from him, her breathing coming in small shudders. She looked at him like she was expecting anger. A fight. Or something else...
"I knew if I said anything it would be the same thing," she went on. "'We're doing this to protect you. At least you're alive, Norah'. 'It could be worse, Norah. You could be locked in some cell, Norah.' I was just a prized pet that people thought didn't have feelings or care what was happening to it."
She had shrunk into the wall, knees brought to her chest, hands cradled between them.
Her eyes went distant as she said, "I just wanted someone to ask me how I felt and mean it." She studied the blood soaking her pants. "And not some checklist thing they went through every time they saw me."
It could be worse, he had said that to her. At least you're alive. This is for your protection, kid.
He thought back to the days he asked how she felt. He had always asked her while doing something else, making coffee or first thing in the morning. It was routine, a bit robotic, a bit rushed some days. He knew she didn't like talking about her feelings but he'd thought to ask just in case. But Etin had been torturing her every night, then every time she breathed, the constant pain she lived in... He'd seen it eating away at her--destroying her--day by day. If he had just sat her down and asked her how she really felt...
Holland stared at her and the pain in his chest was different. Deeper. A black, throbbing bruise. He struggled to find the words as she stared at her knees, rubbing the blood off her nails. He did the only thing he could think of.
Holland spread his arms and watched as she flinched, shrinking deeper into the wall.
She stared at him. The apology he offered. The peace offering.
Her lips wobbled and he met her halfway to pull her into him. He wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head under his. Her chest shook in tiny rattles and Holland told her it was okay if she cried, but she didn't. And they sat there and Holland hadn't realized how much he'd hurt her.
"Anything else you want to get off your chest?" he asked softly.
"I hate everything." The words were barely a breath.
"That is one-hundred percent understandable," he said. Then, "is that why you ran?"
"I was done," she murmured. "I was done with everything. With people. With the manipulation. I just wanted away."
Carrington had wondered why she stayed in that cell when she could have left whenever she wanted.
She snapped.
Holland held her a bit tighter. Cupped a hand to the back of her head. "I'm so sorry you have to go through this, sweetheart. If I could take this from you, I would."
"I know," she said softly. "But I wouldn't give it to you."
He pulled her away, meeting her brown eyes. "You can heal here--you can focus on getting strong." He looked to the spot Vaella disappeared in. "She's supposed to be fair, but, at this point, we don't trust any gods."
Vaella took away her sleep but Norah's eyes hung heavy on him. Exhausted and hollow. Her face smeared in drying blood.
"This is the time to focus on you," he emphasized, squeezing her shoulders. "Don't worry about what other people want, just focus on getting better."
She slumped slightly and settled against his chest. Holland looped an arm around her, ruffled her hair. "I love you, kid," he said. "And you're right, by the way."
Her eyes sparked. "I know," she mused. "Thank you."
Holland gave a small smile. "I'm always here."
Norah's eyes snapped to something behind him. She went rigid, the cold and rage freezing any warmth that had kindled.
Holland twisted back, finding Vaella towing behind him as the air rippled and solidified behind her. The goddess held a solid, orange bottle, and her gleaming spear in the other, its pointed end piercing the wooden floor. Her gaze fell on Norah whose expression had turned glacial, then to him.
"What's that?" Holland asked carefully.
"This will aid Norah's recovery and give her strength," she explained and Holland could sense no lies.
Holland offered to take the drink, to give to Norah before the goddess did and had it thrown at her. She handed the bottle with a wary glance to Norah. The bottle was almost double the size of his hand and heavy like a brick.
He studied it. Norah would have questions, a lot of them, but she wouldn't ask them in a way that the goddess would have liked. It would have ended in a fight, one Norah wouldn't survive. Perhaps he could ask those questions for her, albeit a little more delicately.
"Why did you suddenly get involved?" he asked. "Is there something you get out of it? Some goal?"
"Etin is destroying this realm--in doing so he is killing millions of innocents and those who do not deserve death." A sharp look at Norah. As if she knew what she'd done. "I am here because I have a sense of duty and the death of this planet affects more than this realm."
"So Norah gets trained up and you leave?"
"I am here to restore balance," she said. "My job is not finished until equilibrium has been achieved or Etin has been defeated." She studied him. "You know I am telling the truth, Holland, you can sense it."
He frowned slowly. "Yeah, how do you know that?"
The goddess's eyes glimmered with what might be the closest thing to amusement or satisfaction. "Your line has been worthy of my gift, Truthseeker."
Holland's face fell. "Oh, uh, thank you."
He found Norah's sharp, calculating eyes darting between the two. "You gave him the silver hair?"
The goddess frowned. "No," she said. "His ancestor proved to be a very fair and just person so I provided him the gift to sense the difference between truth and lie. It has passed down through your line as long as it is not abused. Now drink, I need you strong," she said. "The longer Etin is allowed to wreak havoc, the closer he is to destroying this world."
Norah hesitated but Holland nodded his encouragement. Reluctantly, she took the drink--made a face--and continued to drink.
Vaella tucked her wings in tight, chin lifting as Norah downed the rest of her drink. Black eyes found Holland. "She is healed and I must begin my work," she said. "I will return you to the location I retrieved you from. No one must know Norah's whereabouts or that I accompany her. Is that understood?"
Holland's heart sank, but he understood the danger Norah would be in if word got out. He nodded, shifting into a crouch. "Is there a way for me to keep in contact with her?"
"The less you know, the less the enemies will know," the goddess answered. "But if you are needed, I will find you."
He turned to Norah whose face was carefully blank now. He hooked an arm around her neck, brought her against him. He closed his eyes, kissing her forehead. Dry blood cracked under his lips.
He didn't know when he'd see her again. Days. Weeks. Months. Maybe even years.
Gods, he hoped not that long.
"We'll see each other again, kid." He met her eyes, fought to keep his voice from wavering. "Okay?"
She nodded but he could see it in her eyes. Will you tell Mom I'm okay?
He nodded, he'd tell her what he could. He stood as Vaella cut another portal. "Don't get into too much trouble," he said and disappeared into the portal.