Written November 7th, 2021

Talus’s scream made Ailith’s blood run cold. “Ace!” It echoed through the room as Ace’s body fell, her wings giving out as she fell into unconsciousness. The fight seemed to slow to a stop as The Herald moved in, biting into Ace’s lifeless body and shaking it viciously. He let Ace go, her small form flying through the air before landing limply a few feet away. Ailith’s vision narrowed to a tunnel, the sounds of Feyra shouting and Talus slashing into The Herald dull in her ears.

Not Ace. Not her.

Ailith moved then, running to flank The Herald with Talus. Punches and sword strokes rained down on his everchanging form, Ailith and Talus relentlessly pummeling into him. Feyra and Xiv stood at a safe distance, peppering The Herald with spells and arrows, even as he faltered and stumbled. With a roar, Talus brought his sword down on The Herald’s neck. There was a sickening squelch as the sword hit its mark, separating The Herald’s deformed head from his body. There was a pause, only the length of a couple heartbeats, where no one moved. No one breathed. There was an eternity in those moments, an eternity where Ace was gone. Dead.

Xiv was the first to move. They ran to Ace, pulling a needle out of their bag as they went. The needle was already being plunged into Ace’s chest by the time the rest of them got there, Talus scooping Ace’s little body into his arms. Feyra fell to her knees beside them, grasping Ace’s hand in both of hers. Ailith stood by Xiv, watching for the life to return to Ace, for the dullness to disappear from her skin.

It happened with a gasp, Ace’s eyes flying wide open. She looked around at all of them, took in the tears streaming down Talus and Feyra’s faces. “It’s okay,” she whispered, a small smile on her face. “He said it wasn’t my time yet.” The relief in the air was palpable. Not her time. Not yet. Not for a good long while, if they had any say in it.

Written August 31st, 2021 9:23 PM

“Do you have the magic to bring them back?”

The question had been a rhetorical one. Both Ailith and Feyra knew full well that Ailith did not have the magic to bring Xiv back. Or anyone else for that matter. She couldn’t heal anyone, she couldn’t summon anything, she couldn’t even see in the dark.

---

She had been joking when Xiv went to bite into the now still heart they found, the one from Thatcher’s dreams.

“Don’t eat that, Xiv,” Feyra had admonished, ever practical.

“I think you should eat it,” Ailith had joked, knowing full well Xiv was just going to save it for later anyway.
“Ailith, no,” Feyra had sighed, clearly exasperated.

“It would be funny!” Ailith had insisted, laughing.

The look on Feyra’s face when she asked, “Do you have the magic to bring them back?” had gone right through Ailith. Her smile had dropped right off her face and she didn’t bother replying. They both knew the answer.

---

Ailith knew she had certain… capabilities that the others didn’t. None of them had ever punched anything to death, which was something she was proud of. But she was also painfully aware of her limitations, of the fact that she was ordinary. That she wasn’t Chosen. She didn’t need Feyra to call her shortcomings into attention, not when Ailith spent so much of her time trying to forget about them in the first place. Trying to be someone Feyra could be proud to be with, someone even marginally useful in their group of extraordinary people.

Ailith remained largely silent as they cleared room after room in the seemingly never-ending dungeon they found themselves in. She let the tension between her and Feyra fester, relishing in the fact that it felt as wretched as she did. She still redirected attacks made at Feyra, and she made sure the other woman was still standing, albeit bruised and bloody. Ailith watched Xiv and Ace hurl spells at the various assailants they found along the way, saw the sheer power Talus and Feyra poured into their attacks. All she could do was keep fighting, punching until her knuckles were bruised and broken, grateful for the pain and the way it focused her thoughts into something she could control. This is what I’m good at. This is enough. While the pain lingered, she almost believed it.