The Writer - Chapter 19

Emmeline was going to file a petition that all demigoddesses needed to be tracked and imprisoned, or at least watched at all times. 

They were sneaky and there were so many of them that Emmeline was sure each goddess had dated a guy a year. Besides, why did all of them have to be evil? Couldn’t there be some good magic women? 

Apparently not, and that left Emmeline and Beckett surrounded by quite a few demigoddesses with probably dumb powers. 

Noticeably absent was Uris, who Emmeline guessed was either being promoted or punished, most likely the latter. She hadn’t met any of these Rogues before, so she had no idea what they were capable of.

Beside her, Beckett tensed. Emmeline saw the tendrils on his arms begin pulsing with odd light. Her fingers itched to summon a weapon but she knew the Rogues would see it as a retaliation attempt and only kill her faster. Instead, she straightened and kept her head high as Luca popped open the doors for the Rogues. His crossbow was still aimed at Emmeline’s head. 

“No sudden movements,” ordered the Rogue in the front. Her only defining feature was her hair, which purple in color and greatly confused Emmeline. 

“I’m sorry, but we only take orders from real demigoddesses,” Beckett sniffed. Emmeline wanted to shush him before he got them both killed, but the boy continued onwards. Stalling? Maybe. Getting them killed? For sure. “I don’t care for little girls in costume” 

The demigoddess seemed taken aback. “Little girls? Costume? Prince, just so you know, Baelle said I could bring you in alive or dead, so it’s your choice. And if you don’t trust my credentials, well, I’m the demigoddess of truth. So when we interrogate you, the truth will come out.” 

Beckett sucked in a breath, falling silent. Emmeline could sense the fear radiating off of him. He was scared, especially now that he knew Baelle actually was willing to kill him. 

“Very good,” the Rogue said, satisfied. “Talia, please ensure our prisoners have no way of escape for when our lady arrives.” 

“Yes, Oscra.” 

One of the other Rogues, this one exactly like all the others except for her extremely pale skin, stepped forward. The Rogue - Talia - formed a band of bright white light in her hands, and it darted around wildly. Was that lightning? 

Talia raised her palms to face Beckett and Emmeline, most likely trying to wrap the lightning around them almost like a rope. Emmeline didn’t have time to react as the lightning shot towards her. 

Luckily, it didn’t hurt when it hit her. The lightning wrapped itself around Emmeline, warm to the touch, but tolerable. It tightened until there was no way possible that Emmeline would be able to escape. She tried to summon a bit of magic or even a weapon just in case, but the lightning seeped into her fingertips and zapped her. 

“Ah, none of that now,” Oscra laughed. “Now, Talia, the boy.” 

The boy? Emmeline looked upwards and realized that Beckett was still free of his bonds. His teeth were gritted and his fists clenched. The green veins on his arms were practically bulging off of his skin now. 

“Oscra, I did try to capture the boy,” Talia protested meekly. 

Oscra frowned. “Try again, and harder this time. Someone go guard the Reader so she doesn’t try anything else either. Apparently, her own pain isn’t enough of a deterrent.” 

Emmeline scowled, foiled again in an attempt to weasel out of the restraints.
Talia raised her hands again, and this time, the whole world seemed to slow down as tiny bolts of lightning raced towards Beckett. Emmeline actually saw the quick flash of emerald light that burst from Beckett’s fingers. The pulse knocked the lightning aside. 

All of the Rogues seemed confused, the exceptions being Oscra and Talia. No one had moved to grab for Emmeline, and that was their mistake. No one was near Emmeline or Beckett when the prince suddenly formed two swords out of thin air, one blade emerald and the other silver. 

And with that, Beckett launched into a frenzied attack. Apparently, he had been listening during his fighting lessons all those months ago. Talia barely had time to back away as Beckett advanced on her. 

The room erupted into chaos with so many things happening at once that Emmeline couldn’t keep track. 

Beckett attacked Oscra first, and the demigoddess whipped a sword out of nowhere. The two locked into battle, the weird green light from Beckett the only thing saving him from the Rogue’s sharp blade. 

Luca shot a crossbow bolt towards Beckett but missed terribly and struck another Rogue in the neck. She crumpled to dust without a fight. 

Emmeline tried to form a weapon or call upon one of her gifts, but Talia had regained her focus and the lightning tightened even more, constricting Emmeline’s chest and making it hard to breathe. 

Electricity prickled at her fingertips, killing any magic before it could leave her hands. 

The other Rogues seemed unsure of who they should help or hurt. A few raced towards Beckett and Oscra, but the green light kept them at bay. 

I just need Talia to get out of my way, Emmeline thought bitterly, pouring her strength into her escape attempts. It was humiliating to be stuck on the floor in ropes, but she couldn’t escape. She was weakening fast and Talia was only growing stronger. 

Emmeline’s thoughts turned to Newt. He was counting on her to help, and she couldn’t save him stuck in this mansion. 

The thought of everyone else’s hardships only increased Emmeline’s fight. Maybe there was a weakness in the lightning and Layenyl’s gift managed to pass through. Maybe Talia was distracted. Or maybe ancient magic coursed through her veins. 

No matter the reason, Emmeline’s bonds snapped. The electricity crackled away, leaving Emmeline feeling dizzy and out of breath. She took only a second to regain her composure before letting her instincts guide her. She formed an obsidian blade from nowhere and launched into battle. 

Understandably, Talia was surprised to have a young girl flying at her with a blade extended. There was no shock when Emmeline quickly brought down her sword on the woman, only some remorse managing to penetrate her mind. However, this scared the other Rogues into action. 

A few of them regained their wits and seemed to remember that Emmeline was one, weak, little Reader against how many of them. 

Unfortunately, her gifts also were refusing to work, meaning she was stuck alone with only Wiley’s skill to guide her. Wiley was more of an outdoor fighter, and her technique was accustomed to fighting outside. 

The Rogues seemed to realize only one could fight at a time without risking Emmeline’s death, and apparently Baelle wanted her alive. 

But instead of fighting her, the Rogues seemed to realize there were easier ways to capture her. A few of them joined the group surrounding Beckett, while about two went to grab Luca. 

One of the willowy, skinny ones that looked like she would collapse at any moment closed her eyes. Emmeline immediately knew she needed to shield herself magically. 

Surprisingly, the willow girl’s attack wasn’t much of an attack, at least not a first. Emmeline lunged with her sword, but suddenly it felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. Not again, Emmeline realized.

Baelle had done this before. She had poisoned Emmeline’s mind using her stupid magic tricks, and now, somehow, she was acting through the skinny girl. Emmeline barely had time to wonder if perhaps the girl could channel Baelle’s magic so the goddess didn’t have to exert as much energy. 

Darkness tinted the edges of her vision and Emmeline felt her sword clatter to the ground before she crumpled. Every breath took a million years and her blood crept through her veins at the rate of a snail. 

Her thoughts practically ceased and for a while, Emmeline just existed. She felt little, thought little, and laid limply on the ground while movement flourished around her. 

She saw nothing, but she knew she was probably being bound and ready for transport. 

And yet through the steady slowness, Emmeline could feel her powers pulsing inside of her. It was like the world had been taken away and only she existed. Now, with nothing else to focus on, Emmeline could find herself. She could see that her power rested inside of her, the gifts from the Goddesses always there, just dormant. 

And it was because of this time that Emmeline felt something click. Although she felt sluggish, she also could feel herself gaining control. It was like all of the sudden she could change every bit of her gifts. She knew how to use them and how to activate them. 

Of course, none of the goddesses could defend her against this odd time magic, which was feeling less like Baelle’s work by the minute. Emmeline searched herself for a way to escape, a way to break out of this time spell. None of her magic seemed fit for it, until Emmeline came across Farosh. 

If Farosh was the goddess of cold, and the time was freezing in Emmeline’s body, couldn’t the gift reverse that? It was a stretch, but then again, Emmeline was a Writer and she could manipulate words to fit her bidding. With the thought in mind, she felt her power switch on. Her pulse stabilized and her thoughts came faster now. She realized she had probably been in near unconsciousness for a long time now. 

She called upon her gift from Layenyl to wake her completely, invigorated to try something new. 

The Rogues were all focused on Beckett now, who looked like he was tiring. Luca was gone, whether prisoner or coward. Emmeline didn’t care. She knew she had to give Beckett a chance to escape. 

She called upon Gollare’s gift and brought a heavy darkness over the room. Just as she expected, the Rogues began to yelp. 

Emmeline felt disconnected from her body, like her magic was pushing her out. Panicked, she suddenly relinquished her hold on the magic and the light came flooding back. Fortunately, Beckett had recovered. 

What he did next brought shivers down Emmeline’s spine. 

The Rogues turned back to Emmeline, but Beckett let out an ear piercing shriek. With it came a wave of silver light. It shot like shrapnel from Beckett, spiraling outwards like a stampede. Some of the silver light made contact with the Rogues, and some of them vaporized on impact. Others were spared, but they fell to the floor unconscious. 

Nausea rolled over Emmeline, and she felt her knees give out beneath her. She pressed her hands over her ears, but Beckett was still screaming. 

Maybe he’s losing control over his magic just like I did. 

Emmeline forced herself to crawl forward, through the crumpled bodies of the Rogues. “Beckett!” she tried to scream, but the silver light sucked the air from her lungs and only formed more shrapnel. She crawled faster, Beckett’s pale skin fading to almost porcelain white. 

She grabbed his ankle and Beckett’s mouth clamped shut. 

His eyes met hers for a moment, and for one of the first times Emmeline had ever seen, he looked terrified. With that, his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the ground. 

Emmeline sent one last look at the goddesses before scooping up Beckett in her arms. He was as light as a ragdoll, his heading lolling to the side and his hair obscuring his eyes. His skin was cold. 

From the floor, Emmeline heard a cough. She turned, prepared to fight, but it was just the willowy Rogue. “Go,” she heard the Rogue wheeze. “The other boy is in danger too.” 

Fear raced through Emmeline and her feet pounded as she ran, Beckett in her arms. 

It took all nine hours of straight riding for Beckett to finally wake up. Emmeline had a lot of time to think and a lot of time to worry. 

She hoped that Baelle didn’t kill that skinny Rogue. If it turned out that Newt actually was in danger, she would make sure that her friends knew not to kill the girl. Maybe all Rogues weren’t so bad after all. 

Beckett looked terrible, just as bad as Emmeline felt. She was exhausted, and her new magicky stuff seemed to be taking a lot out of her. Overall, she just wanted to sleep but she knew Beckett deserved it more than she did. Emmeline was also glad that the ride gave her time to adjust. She didn’t know how exactly her magic would be reacted to.

They were just arriving at the mansion when Beckett’s eyes fluttered open. He panicked, nearly throwing himself off of his horse. Emmeline prodded her own horse closer, just in case Beckett began to slide off. 

He looked panicked for a few seconds, his eyes wide with worry. 

Luckily, they had just rode into the mansion yard, and it was the wee hours of the morning so no one was around. Beckett was still in what appeared to be shock, so Emmeline led his horse into the stable for him. 

He slipped off quietly, never making a noise. Emmeline unloaded their supplies and gently grabbed Beckett’s arm to lead him back into the mansion. 

Instead, he suddenly pressed himself against her in a tight hug, sniffing against her side. Emmeline dropped the bags in surprise and they thudded to the ground with a soft thump. She slowly brought Beckett to the ground where he cried inconsolably into her lap. 

Emmeline stroked his hair instinctively, feeling like the mother bird of the small boy. He only cried harder. 

When it became clear that Beckett wasn’t going to stop crying anytime soon, and with dawn quickly approaching, Emmeline finally pushed the boy away from her. He wiped his eyes and nose before looking straight at her. 

“What’s wrong?” Emmeline whispered. 

Beckett was quiet for another long moment before responding. “The magic almost took me.” 

The answer was so simple yet Emmeline understood completely. She had been correct in her assumption that Beckett had lost control over his magic. And she understood how it felt to not be in control. 

“You’re okay now, though,” she said, trying to think of words to comfort him. 

“It almost took me,” he repeated. 

Once again, Emmeline was reminded of her similarities with the boy. Both of them had a long road ahead of them, and neither of them was adept at controlling their magic. And yet they were the only hope for the future. A Reader and a prince. It felt unreal and unfair. 

“You’re okay,” Emmeline repeated too. “Look, you made it out alive. And now you know your limits better. The magic didn’t take you.” 

Beckett met her eyes. His lips barely parted, “yes, but I almost let it.” 

Emmeline’s heart leapt into her throat. Beckett had really been that close to giving up. So close. “Beck-” Her voice broke. 

All this time, Beckett was supporting her. He was there when she was upset about Newt. He tried to be insufferably optimistic. But when Beckett needed someone to help him, Emmeline wasn’t there. Guilt weighed down on her. 

“I’m sorry,” she managed. “I should’ve realized how much of a burden this is on you too.” 

Beckett gave a small nod of acknowledgement. “Great, then let’s go inside. I have a feeling there’s a reason we rushed here instead of taking our sweet time on a leisurely ride through the forest.” 

“Beckett,” Emmeline sighed. “You know that I’m here for you, right? You don’t have to hide behind your mask of humor.” 

The prince gave her a sad look, one filled with centuries of wisdom. “Yes, but I want to.” 

The vines on the side of the mansion seemed to perk up in Emmeline’s presence. She helped Beckett onto the wall and made sure that he was secure before pulling herself up. She insisted on carrying their bags, she didn’t want to make Beckett feel worse. 

On the way up, she explained what the willowy Rogue had told her. 

“She said Newt was in danger,” Emmeline whispered. 

“And you took the word of a Rogue because she told you that the love of your life was in danger?” 

Emmeline was too offended to care much for the jab. “Newt is in danger.” 

“And? So are the rest of us? He’s not special, at least in my opinion.” Beckett slid open the window to the common area, and it made a soft squeal. 

Emmeline sighed loudly. “Geez, Beck, maybe have a little sympathy? You just sound harsh.” 

“But it’s true!” 

“Shh, someone is going to hear you and we’re all going to end up dead,” Emmeline hissed. Beckett rolled his eyes and obeyed her wishes. 

Emmeline hid her bag under the couch for the time being. Sleep weighed heavily on her like a blanket. The couch was enticing and she wanted so badly just to lay down and sleep. Newt might be in danger. The thought kept her moving. 

Emmeline and Beckett crept softly down the boy’s hallway. The light in Newt’s room was out, but that didn’t mean anything. It was possible no nurses were staying with him due to his unchanging condition thus far. He could also be dead, and you’re too late, Emmeline’s mind told her. 

The doorknob was cold under her fingers as she turned it, pushing open the door gently. Darkness hid the room from her vision, so Beckett made his way towards the tiny lantern on the nightstand and lit it. 

As light chased away the shadows, Emmeline had to force herself to hold together. 

Newt was even paler, and it seemed all color was bleached from his skin. The markings on his arms were just barely visible, and his breathing was labored. 

“You’re okay,” Beckett whispered from behind her. Emmeline wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or if he was comforting her. Either way, she didn’t care. She wrapped her arms around her like a hug, trying to keep from crying. What if he died? Would it be her fault? How could she fight Baelle if one of her only reasons for fighting was dead? 

“He needs Read,” came a soft voice from the corner. 

Emmeline spun around, fingertips sparking with magic. In the corner, covered with shadows, was a figure in a rocking chair. 

Emmeline didn’t recognize the voice at first until the darkness fled and the figure in the chair gave a smile similar to one Emmeline imagined a demon would have. Dixral waved politely at Beckett, her voice a familiar rasp but also somehow clear. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before, Your Highness.” 

Beckett glared at the Goddess of Death, his eyes cold and piercing. Dixral frowned. “It would not be wise to anger me, princeling.” 

“Why does everyone call me princeling?” Beckett protested. “I’m older than anyone in this mansion besides you.” He crossed his arms and stuck out his bottom lip like the petulant child he was. Dixral smiled, amused. 

“Never mind that,” Dixral continued. “The boy on the bed needs Read.” 

She seemed pleased that her words rhymed, but Emmeline glared at her. “Will Reading him fix him?” 

Dixral shrugged and it took all of Emmeline’s restraint not to strangle the woman. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want Newt to get better. But Reading was always uncomfortable - especially when it was people she knew. Sure, a stranger Emmeline could rattle off the truth and only feel a bit of guilt. But Reading her friends wasn’t only an invasion of privacy, it felt like Emmeline was peeling back their skin to see the deep stuff. It was uncomfortable, especially if her Reading went interrupted and she managed to see the death. 

Titus was one of the only people Emmeline remembered Reading. She knew that Zoro had probably forced her to Read Newt at least once, but it felt wrong to do it again. What if his future was with her? Or without her? Or what if his future didn’t exist? 

“Well?” Dixral prodded. “We don’t have forever. If you don’t Read him soon, there’s a chance he won’t ever wake up again.” 

The thought startled Emmeline into action. 

“Are you sure this will work?” Emmeline asked. “Is this going to save his life?” 

Dixral gave a shrug and another demonic smile. “I suppose you won’t find out until it happens. Now, I’m afraid I can’t stay for long. I’ll watch the Reading, but then I must get going.” 

Emmeline nodded absentmindedly, fingers prickling with nervous anticipation. 

And then, with only a moment of hesitation, she placed her fingers on Newt’s pale skin and the Reading took over.