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creativecuteness · 2 months

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Total Slaughter Island Chapter 3: Away with the Wind She Goes

A/N Sorry this is a little late. Didn't get a chance to edit this until today ao3 and fanfiction.net links will come a little later. Enjoy the last chapter of this story for a little bit, I hope to update this next month.

Chef’s outburst caused a mixture of yelps, startled gasps, and whispers throughout the room. It wasn’t like the stone-cold man to get this riled up and panic; even his fiancée was shocked and not used to seeing this side of him.

“Chef?! What did you say?!” Emily spoke, breaking the hushed silence.

“I know who did it! I can’t believe I didn’t notice it sooner. The mask, those overalls, the crazed look in their eyes as they took Ezekiel away—it all points to one person—Hook’s McGrady.”

“Huh?” Everyone gasped, very confused.

“Uh, Hook’s McWho?” Emily questioned, wondering if Chef was just making stuff up.

“Hook’s McGrady,” he repeated in a spooky voice, “someone I haven’t seen since my time during the war.”

Knowing Chef was about to tell one of his famous tales, someone turned off the lights as Chef turned on a flashlight and pointed it at his face.

“His name was Sean Phillip; the two of us met during our training days. While I was strong and burly, he was more like a water boy; however, he was a kind spirit who got along with almost everyone. Heck, the two of us even became best friends. We told each other everything; we had each other’s back. He told me he joined the army cause his mother was sick and was the best way to provide for her, and I promised to help him reach that goal. A promise I was never able to fulfill, it all came crashing down June 13th. We were passing through enemy lines when a sneak attack backed us into an old shack. It was old and brittle, perfect to annihilate an enemy. It all happened so fast. An enemy soldier threw a grenade in, and just like that, boom, the shack collapsed with us inside it. And yet, by some stroke of luck, we lived. However, we were badly injured, and some of us needed surgery to even walk again, and sadly, Sean was one of them; his hands were both dislocated and burned beyond recognition. You should have seen the side of his charred face; it was awful.

Long story short, his hands needed to be amputated, and he wore hooks as makeshift prosthetics. That’s how he got his nickname. I remember promising him once we returned to civilization, we’d get him real prosthetic hands. We tried to be respectful and lift his spirits, but it was fruitless. We knew he was a broken man. His hands were special, man; he had the best trigger finger in our troop, and without them, he was nothing.

And it gets worse; there were a few groups who began mocking him for his disabilities; their words, no matter how hard he tried to brush it off, got under his skin. They even made me feel small when I tried to stand up for the poor guy. To the point where I just held my tongue and ignored the growing tension, but that doesn’t even cover my greatest mistake; it was our toughest mission yet. We were about to invade enemy lines; we were split into two teams, one held the front lines while the other invaded the base. My team consisted of me, Sean, and a group of bullies that wouldn’t leave the poor man alone. We tried to get by without any incident, but eventually their teasing became too much, and Sean had a full breakdown. We were spotted not long after and made a run for it, fighting through the chaos as we made our escape. In doing so, Sean was caught. I desperately wanted to go back and save him, but my comrades convinced me that he wasn’t worth it.

As I left with the others, I heard him scream, saying we’d pay for leaving him behind. In the end, I broke the biggest rule in the army: “No man left behind.” I’ve kept this secret for years; I know his ghost has been haunting me, and now he’s returned for revenge.” Chef concluded his story as someone turned the lights back on.

“That’s an interesting story, Hatchet, but I don’t see how any of this is connected to...

“You don’t understand, man!” He shouted, banging his fists on the table once again, startling everyone witnessing. “This whole thing is my fault. I told Chris to bail because I was terrified of facing my past, and now those kids are gonna suffer for it. Which is why...” The army man took a deep breath, “I volunteer to rescue the campers and beg Hook for forgiveness.”

Everyone was stunned silent, not that anyone would oppose Chef’s offer better him than any of them.

“I also volunteer!” Dakota stood up,

"Wait, Dakota, no.” Chris whispered, not wanting her to get killed.

“I’m going, Chris, and that’s final. I told you before if you won’t rescue the campers, I would.” She spoke seriously, determined to get everyone home safely.

Chris sighed, knowing nothing would change their minds, and stood up.

“And where do you think you’re going, Mclean?!” The C.E.O. spoke disapprovingly.

Chris put his arms around his surrogate daughter and fiancée, for once he was ready to take responsibility for his mistake. “I’m going with them.”

"Wait, you are?!” Dakota gasped; a part of her hopeful, but the other part honestly didn’t want him to come.

The former TV host nodded and said, “It’s my fault the kids are even in this mess; if getting us off the hook is recusing the campers, then I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I’m afraid just saving the campers won’t cut it. If Ezekiel isn’t the only one dead, the deceased’s parents will take legal action against us. And I refuse to let that happen.”

“So, what are you saying?” Dakota questioned, fearing the mission was going to be called off.

“To put it simply, I want that killer’s head on a platter.” The C.E.O. instructed, “You have three days to get the campers off the island, recover the dead bodies, and catch the killer—nothing more, nothing less. Understand?”

“Three days, but that’s...

“Just enough time for you to get in and out. I doubt it’ll take you more than a day to locate the survivors, and considering Chris has a map of the area, you should have no trouble finding your way around. Now with that meeting adjourned.”

Everyone piled out of the room without saying another word other than bidding the threesome good luck on their mission. Which Dakota knew she needed as she and Emily left early to pack some things.

Chef was going through drawers and his shared closet, grabbing anything and everything that was deemed a necessity, when Chris knocked on the door.

"Sorry, bud, I can’t talk now; we’re leaving early tomorrow morning, and I need to get our stuff in order.”

"Look, I know you’re busy, but was that story you told the C.E.O. true? Or did you make it all up to help Dakota?” Chris wondered,

His lover dropped the clothes on the bed and grabbed Chris by the shoulders, which shocked the shorter man. Who rarely sees his significant other act this serious, “Chris I can guarantee that story was one hundred percent true. However, I may have lied when I said I left Sean behind.”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

Chef sighed deeply, putting his face in his hands. “It’s my fault Phillip died; we weren’t invading enemy lines. Those bullies who mocked Sean forced me to lock him in the gas chamber at home base. I was forced to see my best friend die before my eyes and did nothing about it. I ran like the coward I was, and I never told anyone the truth; instead, I lied, saying I witnessed the whole thing and ran away to get help. The ones involved were punished, but the guilt has been tearing me apart for years.”

“That’s why you weren’t opposed to leaving the campers for dead, wasn’t it?” Chris asked, putting a gentle hand on Chef’s shoulder, who merely nodded, tears filling his eyes.

“I know we made a mistake leaving them, but I was scared too. I’ve seen Grady in my dreams; whenever he shows up, something horrible always happens. He’s returned, Chris; he’s after me, and this time I don’t think I can run anymore. He’s going to catch me; I just know this’ll be my finally days on earth.”

“Look,” Chris started, not really sure how to comfort someone who’s been haunted by the past. “I don’t know what’ll happen, but I promise, everything is going to be okay. Surely the kids are fine. I mean, how many could have dropped dead in a span of a month?”

“Sadly, many Hook’s is crafty; he won’t let anything out of his grasp.”

Chris sighed as he pulled his fiancée into his embrace. Chef held his lover tightly, feeling this could be the last time they'd ever see each other. Chris continued reassuring the man that everything would be okay, knowing they'd sort things out.

“I sure hope you’re right, Chris.” Was all he could say.

The next morning, Dakota was alarmed to see cop cars lined up outside. She immediately ran inside to see officers questioning employees. The young girl was about to ask what was going on when she heard a voice.

“Psst in here.” The brunette searched for the source when she noticed Emily’s hand giving away her location. Dakota ran to the door and was dragged into the basement, where her friend and two others were waiting in the dark.

“Phew, here I thought you were next.” Emily sighed,

"Emily, what’s going on? What’s with the cop cars?”

“It’s all over, girl; they’re out for our arrest.”

“For what?! Chris and Chef are the ones responsible for abandoning the campers!”

“No, this has nothing to do with that; this is a completely unrelated incident.”

“But you said—”

"Okay, fine, it’s slightly unrelated, but the order of events that lead to this point is only partially related.”

“What?”

Emily sighed. “Allow me to explain. The C.E.O. is being accused of some shady dealings behind the scenes; someone was able to dig up some dirt on the dude, and now they have a warrant to investigate us. Also, they want the location of Camp Wawanakwa; parents are getting impatient, and they want answers now.” Her friend informed her,

“Excuse me, Senorita?” A Hispanic boy came forward and asked, “Is it true you’re volunteering to get the missing kids back?”

“Yeah, but I’m not going alone; my boss and his fian… I mean, good friend are accompanying me.” She explained, and the boy hummed in thought, "Wait, hold on, who are you?”

"Oh, right, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Alejandro Burromuerto, and this is my acquaintance, Sierra.” He introduced himself as Sierra waved excitedly.

“It is so nice to meet you. I have a blog that’s been documenting the entire ordeal, and might I say your friend Emily has told me how you’ve been fighting tooth and nail to get the network to send out a rescue? I was hoping you’d be interested in an interview, perhaps? My fans will go insane.”

“Um, sorry.” Dakota smiled uncomfortably, backing away from Sierra’s excitable energy. “I’m not taking any statements right now; maybe another time.”

Alejandro patted Sierra’s shoulder to get her to back off, upon realizing she was making the other girl uncomfortable. She took a deep breath to compose herself and got out of her face.

“Sorry about that; I tend to get a little excited about my passions; I get it from my mother's side.” She explained,

“It’s fine.” Dakota sighed, understanding the tanner girl perfectly. “Just try to control yourself, and we’ll get along swimmingly.” She held out her hand as the two shook it. “I’m Dakota Natalie, by the way.”

“We’re assuming you work here?” Alejandro asked, and the two nodded.

“More like my dad works here; Chris was somehow nice enough to give me an internship here.” She explained,

“I’m an intern as well.” Emily came forward, “But only in the summer; I’ll be out of here come end of August. Though considering we’re under investigation, I should probably just bail before they arrest me.”

“Yeah, something tells me you should do that.” Sierra awkwardly agreed,

“So, is there a reason you’re here? Or are you a part of the feds who are here questioning people?” Dakota wondered, turning to Alejandro,

"No, no, we’re not with them; we snuck in.” Sierra proudly announced, shocking the two interns,

“You snuck in?!” They exclaimed,

“Okay, first of all, that was very reckless of you. What if you were caught by security?! Second of all…” She paused "Wait, how did you even get in?” Emily wondered,

“We disguised ourselves as delivery men and waltzed right in.” Sierra winked, “It was surprisingly easy.”

“We came in hopes of discovering insider information to help investigators. It appears the urgency of the situation is reaching its boiling point, and we wanted to help. However, once the police came, we panicked and have been hiding down here ever since.” The Hispanic boy explained,

“That was until I found them; considering no one ever comes down here, I knew this would be the perfect hiding spot.” Emily smirked,

“You found them by chance, didn’t you?” Dakota asked,

“Yes.” She confirmed losing her confident demeanor,

"Look, as nice as it is to meet you two, we have to get out of here. I’m leaving to save the kids, and you two can’t be seen.”

"Wait, hold on, we can help you.” Sierra offered hastily, “You only have a limited time to save everyone, right? Alejandro is a world traveler; he and his dad went around the whole world a few years ago. And I have exclusive scoops on the campers; we’ve been planning infiltration for months. Please let us come with you!”

Dakota pondered this for a minute and realized the extra hands wouldn’t be horrible if what Sierra said was true. The two had some experience. “You two do realize you’re putting your lives in danger, right? There’s a killer on the island, and I doubt they escaped; are you two willing to put your lives on the line for the call of duty?”

“Trust me, we are more than willing to sacrifice ourselves if it means avenging those poor souls. We know about the risks, and we promise to proceed with caution.” Sierra understood,

While she wasn’t one hundred percent convinced the two could handle themselves, she knew time was running thin, and if the police were here, Chris and Chef would have bolted. "Okay, you two can come on one condition; don’t get in the way, and try not to get killed.”

The two nodded, agreeing to the terms. “We promise.”

“Okay, Emily, distract the cops while I track down Chris and Chef. I hope you two are ready because we leave now.”

Emily saluted, “You can count on me, girl.” Then she ran into her friend’s arms for a tight hug, “Good luck out there; please promise me you’ll come back safe.”

“I can’t guarantee that, Emily. However, if Chris pulls a bait and switch on me, I plan to haunt him for the rest of his lousy life.”

The feisty girl giggled, already imagining the hilarity of Chris dealing with an unwanted guest. “Alejandro and Sierra, you better get my girl back safe.” She said running upstairs as the remaining threesome slowly followed.

Getting out of the building and finding Chris and Chef were easier than expected. After a brief explanation on the two newcomers, Chris begrudgingly allowed the two to come much to their joy. Chef explained the boat ride to the island would take a few hours, so Sierra showed her teammates the information and background she had on the campers.

“Wow, Sierra You really went all out; if it weren’t for our circumstances, I’d say you were some crazy stalker.”

The other responded uncomfortably, shifting her weight. “Well, you’re not far off per se.” She spoke, trying to laugh it off.

“Wait, what’d I say?”

“What you spoke was the truth.” Chef explained, “When we were doing auditions, we considered putting Sierra in; however, after a quick background check, we found out she had a restraining order on her head and charges for stalking and harassment. The network didn’t want to risk anyone’s safety in case she got handsy, so Duncan got in instead.”

“Yes, because safety was your true priority considering the challenges you laid out.” Dakota deadpanned, "Also, doesn’t Duncan have criminal charges on his hands?”

“Ha!” Chef laughed. “That boy’s got nothing on her; he does petty crimes he’ll hopefully grow out of once he matures. Sierra’s a full-on menace to society; if you ask me, she deserves to be behind bars.”

The girl in question shrank into herself, knowing Chef made a valid point; what she did wasn’t her proudest moment, and she’s been teased and bullied for her experience even more than her daily average. She was a social outcast who weirded out everyone who met her. And the stalking incident didn’t help her reputation; it made it worse, considering many of her classmates pray she’ll slip up and end up in jail for life. But she deserved it, considering she didn’t realize how wrong and inappropriate her actions towards her crush were at the time.

"Chef, that was so uncalled for.”

“No, he’s right.” Sierra spoke, then sighed as she began to explain herself. “I developed a crush on a boy that was very unhealthy. I snuck into his house once and was caught. His family called the police, and I was taken to a mental hospital, where I spent three months receiving treatment for my obsessive behavior and therapy. I received the restraining order shortly before I was released, and never saw him again. He changed schools when I returned, and for all I know, he could have moved out of state. But I promised myself never to do anything like that ever again.”

“So, did this happen before or after you auditioned?” Chris questioned, raising his eyebrow,

“Shortly after, I thought getting on the show would be a way to start fresh; though, considering what happened, I dodged a huge bullet.”

“Actually, Sierra, you dodged a whole nuke.” Dakota laughed, then turned to her other teammate, “What about you, Alejandro? What’s your tragic backstory?” She questioned adding air quotes to tragic and backstory

The tanner boy sighed deeply, rubbing a hand through his hair. “I wanted to see an old girlfriend of mine.” He revealed,

This peeked everyone’s interest: “Ooh, do tell.” Sierra pushed,

“Her name is Heather; I’m sure you’ve heard of her; she was cast for the show.” He stated, holding up a picture of her, she had long black hair and was wearing a red crop top and green denim shorts. Dakota squinted, realizing the shape of her eyes and face suggested she was of Asin descent.

“We met during middle school. You know, I’ve always saw Heather as the most deadliest black rose in a bouquet of wilted flowers. Her and I had similar competitive natures; we loved coming on top; however, that was our downfall.”

“What happened?” Dakota asked,

The boy smiled bittersweetly, a look of longing in his eyes. “Long story short, my competitive nature got the better of me, and I backstabbed her. I cared more about winning than I did about my own girlfriend; the look of heartbreak on her face still hurts me to this day. I would do anything to apologize and make things right.”

“Sheese sounds like a pretty messy breakup.” Dakota understood feeling kind of bad.

“Oh, it was; I’ve never seen her that angry. The last thing she said to me was that I was an eel dipped in grease, and we were through. She got me back though; it ended in me getting expelled, but I took a trip around the world with my father shortly after and did a lot of soul-searching. When I caught wind that she was signing up for this new reality TV show, I figured I could finally make things right. And now I may never see her again.” He sighed, knowing the chances of his ex being alive were next to null. Dakota’s heart broke, knowing he might not even get the chance to say goodbye. She felt her anger flare up, cursing Chris for everything and the network for not acting faster.

As the group fell into silence, Dakota returned to the edge of the boat, Chris not having moved from his spot since they departed.

“Why are you helping me, Chris?” She spoke, breaking the spell of silence that was cast between them. “We all know what you did; surely repairing our relationship isn’t the only thing on your mind. Are you doing this out of sympathy? Maybe guilt has finally caught up to you. Or is it because of the wave of threats that threaten to destroy your career?”

Chris was dumbfounded at the younger girl’s accusation, but if he was being honest with himself, even he didn’t know why he allowed himself to be dragged back to the island with the premise of Chef’s Ghost Story. But Dakota was right on all accounts; he wanted his relationship with her repaired, he wanted to get back into the good graces he lost, but most importantly, he wanted to know why a killer targeted him and twenty-two other teens. What did he do? No, what did they do to deserve this fate? Why did he run? Why did it seem every outcome would have led him back here, no matter what? As he let his thoughts run circles around him. Dakota opened her mouth to speak his thoughts for him.

“If you ask me, I think you’re doing all this because you miss being a hero in the eyes of the public. Why would you care about anyone other than yourself?”

"Look, Dakota, you’ve got that all wrong.”

“Save it, just...” She beathed uneasily as if hearing her own words hurt her. “Let’s just find them; we have three days, and we don’t know what’ll happen if we take an extended vacation. Find the kids, catch the killer, and recover the dead bodies if there are more than one. Easier said, then done, but it shouldn’t take long.”

The two stared at the setting sun as an island came closer and closer into view. Dakota felt an odd sense of foreboding in the air, and while she’s never felt the feeling to pinpoint it, a voice in her head told her the island was haunted by the souls of the deceased. Whether it was the campers or if the killer murdered before anyone stepped foot to film was unknown to her, but she had a feeling they were about to find out as a foghorn sounded and Chef’s booming voice yelled,

“Land Ho!”

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of-elves-and-mad-hatters · 18 days

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"The Azure Sky" - Chapter 11

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Shadows to the Brightest Flame: Series

- The legacy of Lumia’s influence is scarred eternally into the lands of Elvendale. Burdened by a prophecy foretelling her demise and need for a successor, she watches for one capable of such power. Yet her enemies are working steadily to undo all she’s labored so long for, and it is millenia too late to make peace.

Emily Jones, heir to Eimileen, is a bold girl dedicated to protecting Elvendale, but the world she has grown so fond of is not so black and white as it seems, and the titles of Guardian of Portal and Guardian of Light may hold darker legacies some ancient elves have worked tirelessly to hide

In conjunction with the extended version of the Guardian of Light prophecy I wrote previously

Basically a rewrite of all of the Lego Elves & Secrets of Elvendale storylines with an additional arc beyond the Season 4: Into the Shadows. There will be a varying degree of deviation from canon.

Technically a crossover with Lord of the Rings/Hobbit/Silmarillion in terms of worldbuidling, as I set Elvendale as being north of Middle-Earth, cause this is fanfic and I can. So there will be mentions of the Noldor, Sindar, Silvan, and some Tolkien characters, but they will be mostly background. Definitely not an issue if you aren’t familiar with the Middle-Earth fandom; everything will still be easy to understand.

Book 1: The Azure Sky

Grieving over the unexpected death of her grandmother, Emily Jones is accidentally trapped in another world. Befriending a few young elves in an attempt to find her way home, Emily discovers many secrets about her grandmother’s past, but for every truth she learns two more questions take its place, leaving her vulnerable to darker force inhabiting this realm.

A rewrite of Unite the Magic

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

_________________________________

Chapter 11

Eimileen must have loved this place.

The small, open-air market of Urisil is like something out of a painting, surreal in the way light shines down through the silk canopies, crystals and lanterns illuminating the stalls, the structures surrounded by trees.

Emily’s gaze is darting around, trying to absorb it all, a grin helplessly plastered on her face. She doesn’t even hear Naida’s voice at first; the water elf has to tap her on the shoulder. “Emily, are you sure this will be enough? Do you need anything else?”

She looks down at the small pile of clothes Naida’s about to pay for, absorbing the question. Enough? She’s relying on the water elf’s expertise for what the mountain weather will be like, only Emily isn’t an elf, and humans seem to be frail in comparison.

“Another coat? Just to be on the safe side?”

Naida nods, and the shopkeeper suggests a fur-lined one in a dark, muted blue.

Emily reaches a hand absentmindedly to her amulet. It feels cold again, prickly with static. Unpleasant.

An intense spark jolts her finger. She recoils.

A rush of half-faded images, a memory, impress upon her mind. Her eight-year-old self trembling under a quilt on her grandmother’s couch, crying because there was a wailing thunderstorm that night and she hated the way the world looked when it was lit up by lightning.

They illuminated the dark faces in the trees, the ones too melded with the night to see any other time. And she begged her grandmother to make them go away.

Her grandmother smiled pityingly, and whispered that she was too old to be hunting spirits anymore, but not to worry, that the dark things were farther away than they appeared, and that there were barriers that kept them locked away. Because that’s how the light deals with darkness, by casting it far away.

Of course there were the few who dealt with things by swallowing the shadows, but her grandmother told her never to pay them much mind. That you should just tell them white lies because they tended to be grumpy and might not otherwise help anyone with the darkness.

Little Emily objected. Her parents said that lying was always wrong.

Her grandmother only smiled gently, tucked a strand of hair behind the child’s ear. Whispered, “Sometimes the only way to love is to lie”.

And lie, Eimileen most certainly did, only Emily isn’t sure she can see the love in that particular choice. How was concealing her own heritage, the world she’d grown up in and loved, necessary to love her human family?

“Something on your mind?”

Emily’s eyes flicker over to Naida. “Nothing…everything. I don’t know,” and she shrugs her shoulders.

“I did not mean to upset you.”

The human shakes her head. “You didn’t. Sometimes, I just feel overwhelmed, still.” She hesitates. “…and I guess it doesn’t help that this amulet continues to surprise me.”

Naida frowns. “How so?”

“Just little things. Like feeling as though it were charged with static electricity. Like sparking an old memory of my grandmother that I had forgotten…” Emily shakes her head. “I don’t know. It drew me to this realm. It wanted me to come here. But somehow I have this feeling it doesn’t like me very much. Does that sound stupid? I mean, it’s an amulet, not a person.”

Naida reaches out, just grazing the stone with her fingertips. “It is an artifact of great power. I’d be surprised if it did not behave strangely.” She tilts her head, thoughtful. “It was given to you by Eimileen. It should be loyal to you, but perhaps it is not fully confident in its new owner. Sometimes trust must be earned.” She takes a deep breath then, as if washing away her contemplations. “Come. We need to be on our way if we are to still stop by the bakery and return to the others by nightfall.”

________________________________________

After regrouping that night, and a restful sleep, the five travelers began their trek up the mountain paths. They hike in single file; Aira leading with the map, Farran just over her shoulder, Emily securely in the middle of the entourage, and Naida and Azari bringing up the rear.

The human pulls her cloak tighter over her shoulders, shivers. The spots of green grass along the path are tinged with frost; she can see her breath in the crisp air. The higher they climb, the sky shifts from lavender to a crystal clear blue, unmarred by cloud and occasionally broken by birds flying in the distance.

Emily feels Naida’s eyes on her, and hears the water elf shout, “It’s time for a rest!”.

Aira jerks her head back, confused until her gaze falls on the human girl. “The path widens just around the next bend. Plenty of space to set up camp.” Emily can barely hide her sigh of relief.

The narrows path does end up widening suddenly into a clearing that had been intentionally carved into the side of the mountain. Out on the edge of outcropping, to their left, stands a dilapidated windmill. The sky is quickly dimming to dusk, and Azari builds a fire close to the face of the mountain. Emily drops to her knees, stretching out her hands to warm them. She nods in Aira’s direction,“So, how much farther to the next key?”

Azari shrugs.

Aira, overhearing, trills, “Just a few more miles!”

“And what are we looking for, exactly?” inquires Farran.

The wind elf finally seats herself around the fire, spreading the map on the ground, and reads,

“Under the wings of those who rule the skies

Buried in the dark with all they find precious

An ancient hold for a beast long dead

Forgotten by those who knew not the days of malice”

Farran’s eyes widen. “A dragon cave.”

Dragon? “Wait, do you mean like an actual fire-breathing dragon, or is that a metaphor for something?” Emily questions.

“Well, not all dragons breathe fire, but yes,” Naida confirms, “The riddle clearly points to the actual lair of one of those creatures. One long deceased.”

Azari scrunches her face, “But what on earth does the line ‘Forgotten by those who knew not the days of malice’ mean?”

Aira frowns. “Maybe it’s referring to a melkorian dragon.”

Naida mirrors her frown. “Let’s hope not. Their treasure hoards are rumored to be cursed, inciting delirium in those who linger too long.”

Emily winces at the thought. “So, what’s the difference between a melkorian dragon and other dragons?”

“Dragons are native to these lands, present at the time of creation, and friends of the northernmost elves. Melkor, an evil and powerful spirit to the south, captured a dragon and transformed it. Twisted its mind and body into a weapon of war. Its descendants we call melkorian dragons. They range from apathetic to completely wicked. Devouring sentient peoples like cattle, and hoarding gold with a compulsive greed far outweighing the natural dragons’ appreciation for beautiful gems.

It’s easy to tell the two races apart. Melkorian dragons grow to be far larger, and more powerful. Unlike other dragons, who are colorful and shimmer in the light, the scales of melkorian dragons are dull and muted in hue. They dwell along our southern borders, a frequent threat to the cities there. Though some have claimed that in rare cases, elves have been able to befriend these drakes, and redeem their natures.

The last time melkorian dragons came this far north was before elves had established permanent towns up here, just scattered settlements. A treasure hoard of their kind would be very ancient indeed, at least by our reckoning,” the water elf explains.

Emily absorbs this, picking a croissant out of the bakery bag being passed around the campfire. She pulls the bread apart, only realizing how hungry she is once she takes a bite. “If the cave was made by a dragon, which can fly, how do we know if it’s even accessible on foot?”

“We don’t,” Aira chirps. “But don’t worry, I’ve invented dozens of different ways to get around the problem of flight!”

Azari makes a nauseated expression. “Flight is a problem, all right. And something to be avoided, not solved.”

“Nonsense! Once you get over your fear of plummeting to your death…”

“Aira, stop,” Naida cuts her off. “We’re about to go to sleep, and you’re going to give Azari nightmares over a hypothetical situation.”

“Fine. But a few pegasi-sky-diving sessions would really do her a world of good.”

_________________________________

Emily opens her eyes. She blinks, slowly, the world around her seeming blurred. The air around her is heavy with fog; she can barely distinguish the forms of her sleeping friends around the remnants of their campfire.

The mist is dark, but as she peers into the night, she sees even deeper, darker shapes in the distance. They’re indistinct, fluid, with glowing blue eyes. Shadows.

Emily sits up, wary, pulling her legs to her chest. The shadows are whistling, a high-pitched almost-white noise that makes her ears ache. There are whispers, too, in her head. Overlapping, wispy phrases, aggressive, rambling on and on about mortals and the passageway.

Electric blue lightning crackles through the fog. Emily’s amulet begins to glow, shining like the shadows’ eyes. It levitates, lifting itself from the girl’s chest until the chain bites into the back of her neck.

It’s leading her.

Shaking with apprehension, Emily allows herself to be pulled to her feet. She stumbles forward, the heavy fog obscuring anything more than a couple yards ahead. She’s lead further up the narrow mountain trail, winding endlessly towards a sky she can’t see.

At some point, she’s turned sharply to the left. The girl continues walking forward, but realizes the ground feels different, absent. She looks down to see a gaping chasm beneath her.

Emily considers, for the first time, that this might be a dream.

As though air were as solid as stone, the girl is lead on. She trips when her feet meet rock again, scraping her shins on a jagged outcropping. There’s a rough-hewn path with deep gauges that perhaps could have been carved from talons, if it was ever possible for a creature to have claws as wide as a school bus.

The rock is damp from the mist, and Emily ends up sliding down the tumultuous path. Now with a scratched-up arms to match her bloody legs, she barely has time to catch her breath before the amulet drags her forward again, and enters the mouth of a monstrous cave.

The blue glow of the amulet is her only source of light, and even that is quickly swallowed up by the darkness. Every step she takes sends small, clinking objects scattering. Gold, gems, she can’t tell what kind of treasure she’s stumbling through, but the deeper she’s lead, the more her legs sink into the hoard.

Emily’s standing knee-deep when the amulet stops. Glow softening, it drops back against her chest with a soft thud, the surface crackling with static electricity. As its light dims, another light, deeper in the cave, moves towards her. It grows rapidly in size as it approaches, a dark, shadowy shape forming in its center, evolving into a humanoid shape.

Emily’s heart drops. It’s them, the presence she felt in the forest. She’s sure of it, even though a part of her mind reminds her that this could just be a dream, a nightmare.

“Who are you?” she asks, trying to still the tremor in her voice.

“Who?” the shadowy figure repeats, tilting its head. The voice is warped, but it sounds vaguely female. “Who I am never really mattered to your grandmother. She held her own assumptions as gospel. So why do you inquire? Or did she not warn her own descendant of the dangers of this realm?”

“She must have had her reasons,” Emily spits back, defensive. “And it’s too late for me to ask her now. But I can ask you why you’ve been stalking me, and how you’re somehow connected to her amulet.”

“It was a gift, and a foolish mistake.”

Emily lifts her hand, letting it hover over the jewel, feeling the sharp pricks of electricity jumping to her skin. “Is that why it hurts me? Because you regret giving my grandmother the amulet?”

“Because I made it, and Eimileen used it for something I never condoned. As long as its purpose is being abused, it will always try to find its way back to me.” The shadow’s voice grows in volume, the cave beginning to shake. “It may be yours, little half-blood, but don’t mistake ownership for loyalty. For your own sake, give the amulet to the guardian of the castle. She has sworn to safeguard it till I return to these lands.”

The shadowy figure vanishes into a wreath of blue and green light, as the ground opens up underneath Emily, crumbling away. She falls, jewels and coins pouring in after her. And far beneath, in the darkness, are hundreds of glowing blue eyes, waiting.

_______________

A/N: I can't believe it's been two years since I've updated this story, and a full year since I shared a segment of this chapter as a WIP. I'm so sorry to have made everyone wait so long! Hopefully, now that I'm over the hurdle that was this clunky chapter, I can finish the Azure Sky this year? Crossing my fingers.

#secrets of elvendale #lego elves #fanfiction #emily jones #fanfic #azari firedancer #aira windwhistler #naida riverheart

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