Jump to content

Betrayed and Reborn

Recommended Posts

Link to OOC


There were three advantages Ridge held, really. Size, being first and foremost, often led humans to underestimating his ability. With a simple hood or hat to cover his ears, he looked enough like a child to be overlooked and ignored. Well, he still was technically a child by the standard of his species, but that was irrelevant when dealing with humans. They ignored him. It worked significantly less when dealing with goblins, of course, since the barbaric things hardly cared about age or size or race. They ate anything and everything that they could get their grubby, green little hands on. If anything, his size compared to them made him more of a target. They thought he was weaker.


Which, of course, led to the second of his advantages. He could remember. He could remember who he was before. The spill of his her blood on the cobbled stones, the King and his court and their accusations of traitorous rebellion that had led to his her death. But he remembered more than that. He remembered being a soldier, his life as a human. He remembered training drills and stances and how to fight. It was awkward trying to navigate a smaller frame and having his reach much shorter, but it certainly came as a surprise to the goblins expecting him to be weaker and instead finding a soldier. Of course, close-combat with any goblin for any species was a bad idea. They tended to have numbers on their side and, even when they did not, were a ridiculously brutal force that it was unlikely any species could actually handle a single, armed goblin on their own in close quarters.


But he had one more advantage. Magic. It was a new skill, one he hadn’t been able to use in his past life. But now it flowed through his veins, giving him powers he had only heard about in stories. He wasn’t necessarily good at it, but even a proficiency helped level the battle field. Tangling a group of goblins up in thick, magically-grown brambles made it easier to pick them off from a distance. A barricade formed from heavy vines slowed their assault. Helping the more skilled adult healers keeper their small numbers up. Of course, there was always death. And, at the end of the day, they were forced farther and farther back and closer and closer to human territory.


And the closer they went, the more his rage grew.


He could see the misery of the people and the numerous bandits that plagued the roads just outside of the forest they had made their new home in. Nothing had changed. He wasn’t sure if he had actually expected anything to, but seeing it with his own eyes was so frustrating. He had served these people once, trying to care for them with his meager salary. Instead, he had been put on the block and his blood scattered across the cobblestone below, a lie told to the people about how he was plotting their demise. He had died cursing the King and his court. And now he was back, in a different body but with the same mind. He would get even. But for now, he contented himself with doing his best to help the people he had once served.




It was winter. It was night. Miserable, dark and cold. Elves tended not to mind the weather so much, instead holing up in trees with thick furs and huddling together like birds until they were warm. They had no jobs to do except catch food, and it was easy to alternate hunting parties. Deer became a staple during the winter, and they spent a good part of the summer storing and drying food to last them. It was a time where nothing much happened and the goblins tended to leave them be as their skin was too thin to last long outside their caves during the winter. But for humans, it was worse. They had jobs and children and needed money to afford food. They needed money to afford firewood. They needed money just to live. And more often than not, they died during these harsh months.


It wasn’t too difficult to untangle himself from the pile of furs and other elves and slip on his heavier, fur-lined coat twice a week. Armed with a knife and his knowledge of magic, he would venture out into the quiet forest and watch. And wait. Sometimes, it would take hours before something finally sauntered through, looking for something to eat. Usually, it was just a deer. But even one deer was more than enough for a group of starving people. So he’d tie it down with vines and end it’s life quickly, before spending the rest of the night trying to drag the creature to the human village at the edge of the forest. There wasn’t much else he could do for them at this rate. But it helped ease his heart, at least.


Which brought him to where he was now, trying to fasten a group of rabbits he had been lucky enough to catch outside their burrow to his belt. They were much easier to carry than a deer, and usually saved him a few hours of trying to drag a carcass to a doorstep. Plus, he had managed to catch them reasonably close to the edge of the forest, which made his trek even shorter. Pulling the rope taunt, he adjusted his thick fur coat for a moment before starting forward, towards the village. Hopefully, he’d be able to get back faster than usual and catch up on some sleep.

Share this post

Link to post

In the cold grasp of winter, Thisbe was unaffected. The fire of their birth kept them warm, even without much insulation against biting winds. But the fire didn't make them immune to the weather or invincible. Especially not when their opponent was five times bigger than them.


Thisbe squirmed, thrashing about in the animal trap that had been used to capture them. "Let me out! Let me out!" They didn't like confined spaces, didn't like being trapped. Not after last time, not after Him.


"Quit tha' annoyin' buzzin'!" the man growled, shaking the trap and jerking Thisbe about. "I can't make out what yer sayin'," the human muttered.


Sprites, at least those belonging to Cypria, spoke too quickly for most beings to understand them. It wasn't their fault though; it was natural for such speedy creatures. Slowing down their speech was tricky and required a lot of effort. (Not to mention focus, which Thisbe sometimes had difficulty maintaining.)


The sun was setting as the Sprite and the human neared the edges of a village. Thisbe pressed their face against the holes in the side of the trap, peering through to see what laid ahead for them. "No, please! Let me out!" they pleaded again. Their wings fluttered with anxiety.


Steven had been a coward. At least, in Thisbe's mind, the man had been. But now that cowardice was surging again, manifesting in their mind as fear of having been caught. The Sprite couldn't escape and, for a moment between each short breath and their overactive heart, they swore they felt the cold touch of shackles around their wrists.


But that was foolish. Just a figment of their hyper imagination. Thisbe wasn't Steven anymore. They weren't confined in a dark prison cell below the streets, waiting for execution.


They weren't going to be killed at the hands of a vile king. But they were going to suffer an undesirable fate as some human child's plaything.




Night had long ago fallen and Thisbe quivered in the corner of their birdcage. Their wings had been stitched together, making it impossible to move them without damaging them any further. Flightless, Thisbe's speed was practically cut in half. Boredom settled on their shoulders as sleep avoided the Sprite, provoking them to get up and pace.


Pacing proved useful, fortunately, as Thisbe caught a flicker of movement outside the child's window. Squinting, they grasped the bars of their cage, looking out as they tried to discern what they saw. It looked like... another human child? It didn't make any sense, but maybe the Sprite could catch the individual's attention and convince them to let them go. It was certainly a long shot but worth the try, wasn't it?


How to do it, though?


Reaching their arm through the bars, Thisbe began tapping on the window.

Share this post

Link to post

A trade caravan. Trading was vital to the family business, but entirely undesirable for young Sissal. Not in the human cities. Not in the capital. Ears pressed back, Sissal hunched down in the back of the carriage. Anger bubbled up in their chest. Anger that was both theirs and entirely not. More than anger, however, was fear. Memories of shackles and sobs flooded their mind. Back in a time where they did not have feathers, and did not have six eyes.


Back when they had a concept of gender.


Skyfolk didn't have an idea of gender. They possessed no defining bodily characteristics to distinguish such ideas and although they were fully capable of reproducing, they had no "unique" parts. Everybody had the same things. As such, humans and Skyfolk are often at odds in the idea of society. While humans were patriarchal, Skyfolk find such notions silly.


Sissal blinked away tears, their misty eyes fogging up their glasses. They pulled the eyeware off their head, rubbing both lenses against the fabric of their shirt. Like most of their kind, glasses were essential. Their often oval-shaped eyes led to an astigmatism, if not her generally poor sight. They (also unsurprisingly) had two eyes removed shortly after birth. It was predicted they be majorly damaged due to poor shape, so in fear of safety, they were removed. Sliding their glasses back on, the young creature took in a shaking breath, and wrapped their tail around themself.


At this time did the horses shriek, the wagon violently skidding. Sissal jolted back into awareness, springing onto their feet in a instant. This, however, was a mistake. For as soon as they rose to stand, the wagon tilted and then capsized. Glassware, carefully packaged in boxes, tumbled violently as the wagon fell over the dirt road. Sissal, too, fell with them. A particularly large box hit them in the chest, and the air instantly hissed from their lungs.


"Sissal! Are you alright?" The worried voice of one of their Parents called out beyond the wagon. A yell from their other parent, however, forced the child into silence.



Skyfolk wares are a valuable commodity. No others excelled in the art of glasswork, and no other races could so carefully infuse magic into their work. As such, Skyfolk caravans were common to be attacked in the hopes of stealing valuable goods.


Hands shaking, Sissal immediately searched the caravan for their weapon. A standard-issue halberd was administered to young Skyfolk like Sissal, as military training was necessary. In city too close to goblins, everyone must be able to protect their home and their lives. The weapon in question lay not to far off, embedded in a crate from the tumble. Great. They rushed to it, ignoring the throbbing bruise on their chest. Both hands gripped the handle, and they pulled.


The flash of light from a swinging lantern washed over the canvas roofing of the caravan. Horse could be heard snorting nearby, their hooves tearing into the dirt as they rapidly approached. Raiders were coming. They had to act.


They had to act fast.




Perched on the side of the bed, a young woman stared unhappily down at her arm. She picked at her skin with a nail, shuddering at the discomfort that followed. A strip of skin peeled off with hardly any effort, leaving fresh skin exposed to the air. She could wait. She would have to wait. But even now, her bones felt tight in her body. Like she was wearing flesh too small to contain her. It was agonizing.


A soft tapping had her head snapping up immediately. Emerald green eyes narrowed at the fae sitting in their cage, their little hands pressed against the window. It was looking at something. She rose, smoothing down the piece of partially shed skin back onto her arm. She had taken great lengths to hide her nature from the little imp, and she wasn't going to blow it now.


The sprite had been a gift from her father. And unwanted gift, but a gift nonetheless. She wasn't home enough to take care of it, and frankly, she felt sort of bad for it. Sort of. A servant must feed it, for otherwise, it surely would have died. Occasionally she tired to make conversation with the bitter little thing, but it usually spat and turned away. At this point, Mina usually ignored the creature.


But now, she was interested.


Placing a hand on the cage, she peered inquisitively at the sprite within. She was interested, but also wary. The sprite had bitten her in the past, their sharp little teeth piercing her outstretched finger. But this was the first time they had actively tried to interact with the outside world.


"What are you looking at?"

Edited by shadow_claw

Share this post

Link to post

Rubbing their hands together to preserve some warmth and get the blood flowing to his fingers again, Ridge shuffled into the village, his eyes remaining alert and wary. Even if at this time of night in this season it was incredibly unlikely to find someone actually out on the streets, keeping his wits about him was always a good idea. Sure he looked like a child, and his ears were covered by his hood to avoid anyone easily spotting the obvious differences between him and a small human, but he had grown up in the woods where goblins would attack at any second. Something could always happen and it was never a bad thing to be cautious. So he stuck to the shadows, which wasn't all too difficult considering this village appeared too poor to afford any fire sprites to act as lanterns. Quite different from the Capitol, where the streets were evenly paved with stone and every crevice was illuminated by sprites hanging in little glass cages.


As he walked down the side of the street, Ridge gently lifted up the side of his cloak, inspecting how many rabbits he had managed to snag. Four in total, all about the same size. If he remembered properly, there was a house with a few children on the far end of the village. Four rabbits would help them quite a bit. Keeping this destination in mind, he continued onward, picking up his pace just a little bit to carry him there faster. He didn't want to stay in this village any longer than he had to. Loitering just increased the risk of something happening.


Tap tap tap tap


His ears twitched every so slightly at the soft noise and he turned, his sharp eyes quickly finding the source of the noise. A window. Inside the window, a sprite. And immediately, he was at an impasse. On one hand, he could simply ignore the noise, continue onwards to the last house and return before something awful happened. Just like he did every time he visited. He wasn't human anymore and that meant he didn't belong in human villages. Humans knew that. He knew that. If he was discovered, by chance, it would likely only lead to his own imprisonment. As far as he was aware, there were, few if any, elven slaves in the human territories. He didn't want to be the first.


And yet, on the other hand, he could clearly see the sprite in the window. This wasn't some human he could just ignore. In the past, he may have gone down the street and ignored the quiet voices of sprites. He couldn't understand them back then anyway. But now he had lived twenty three years as something else. He had a deeper understanding for nonhuman creatures. And while it wouldn't have crossed his mind before, he felt bad at the idea of just ignoring the poor creature. Sprites were never treated well by humans and it probably wanted something desperately if it was going so far as to try to attract his attention. So he veered, pivoting on one foot and quickly crossing over to the side of the house where the window was that the Sprite was tapping on. Assessing the window, he frowned for a moment before turning his focus to the rope that he had tied the rabbits to. Small fingers deftly undid the knot and the rabbits fell to the ground. He could pick them up in a moment. And now, he was lighter and more free to quickly move about.


Reaching his hands up, he grabbed ahold of the ledge of the window and pulled himself up, his bare feet scraping against the stone wall until he was able to get his footing and pull himself all the way up. Dusting his hands off, he pulled his hood down, giving his long ears room to breathe and peering into the window at where the Sprite was held in a birdcage. They were eye level now that he was standing on the windowsill, but there was an entire pane of glass between them. Tilting his head to one side questioningly, Ridge stared at the small Sprite. What did it want?

Share this post

Link to post

The figure was moving closer! Thisbe stood straighter, a flicker of hope tickling their skin. Closer and easier to see, the Sprite watched as the individual undid a rope belt that held several rabbits, letting it drop to the ground. Then the hood was pushed down and Thisbe's eyes widened. An elf? What was an elf doing in a human village?


Not that Thisbe was going to complain as it looked like the elf was going to help them. Smiling brightly, they parted their lips to speak, "Ca-"


"What are you looking at?"


Thisbe bristled, whirling around to face the human child that had spoken. They hadn't realized she was awake. "Nothing, nothing! Go back to bed! Do you need a light?" they asked, forgetting to slow down their speech to a human's comprehension. Bringing up their hands, they briefly eyed the girl's palm resting against the bars of the cage. It would be too easy, singing her fingers with a single ball of fire.


They thought better of it though, remembering the amount of throttling they had suffered when they bit her finger last time. If the daughter didn't do anything to them, then her father certainly did. Instead, Thisbe danced a small flame between their hands, looking more interested in that than in the girl. "Here's a light for you to sleep with," they spoke next, making an effort to speak slowly.


Hopefully, the elf wouldn't leave them any moment soon and the girl will hurry back to bed. They just wanted to be out of this awful cage.




Yellow-green eyes glinted from the passing of lantern light, the distinct sounds of a caravan carrying through the dark. His furred tail twitched with interest, his sharp eyes picking out details despite the lack of light. Fable watched from a distance, letting the scene unfold before him as a group of Raiders approached the caravan.


Stretching as the caravan fell over, Fable gave a quiet yawn before rising to his paws. Silently, he made his way towards the blooming encounter, picking a crate off to the side to leap onto. Skyfolk? Humans? Or a neutral party? he wondered. Being uninvolved could prove boring but, if he decided to intervene, the Changeling might end up hurt.


Still, when the young Skyfolk grabbed their halberd and looked rather unsteady, Fable felt a pang of sympathy. Always at the short end of treatment from humans, the feline couldn't help the itch of kinship he experienced. With a shake of his fur, he dropped down from the crate and trotted towards the Skyfolk child.


Carefully, as not to startle the individual at the wrong moment, Fable brushed his side against the back of the Skyfolk's legs. He circled their feet, a light purr rising from his chest. Briefly, he found their gaze and winked, flicking their tail once before disappearing from their sight.

Edited by Narvix

Share this post

Link to post

Ridge almost didn't notice the human until it was too late. Thankfully, sharp eyes used to the darkness of chilly, forest nights managed to catch movement in the room and years of instinct that associated movement with a possible goblin attack was enough for them to leap off the windowsill with such haste that they almost slipped on the ground below. Scrambling backwards, he pressed his backside against the wall just beneath the windowsill, a hand quickly shooting out to grab the discarded rabbits and pull them in closer so a casual glance outside wouldn't reveal the food he had brought along. He hadn't gotten a good look at the human and hopefully that meant that the human hadn't gotten a good look at them either. Hell, hopefully the human hadn't seen them at all.


This had been a bad idea. He knew it had been a bad idea right from the start. He should have just stuck to his original plan and disregarded the Sprite altogether. But now he could hardly slip away from the wall in case the human decided to look outside, meaning he was stuck there. A hand unconsciously drifted to his side, nudging the thick cloak aside to grasp at the hilt of his stone dagger. But his fingers had barely brushed against the cold, wooden handle before he hesitated and pulled away. No, that wasn't an option. It was just some villager, likely some poor starving person who didn't know any better. He wasn't going to resort to violence right off the bat. If he needed to, he could probably get away with tossing the rabbits at them as a diversion and just bolting. Maybe there'd even be enough confusion to snatch the birdcage.


Assuming the human decided to investigate.


Assuming the human decided to open the window and discovered him sitting there.


Gently and softly slapping his hands against the sides of his face to try to snap some sense into himself, Ridge shook his head. He needed to calm down and think straight. He was an elf! He needed to use his wits and his skills to his advantage, not think through this like he was still a human. First and foremost, he needed to listen. Taking a soft breath, he closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly to one side so his left ear was closer towards the window. His hearing was much more sensitive than when he had been a human and, while it would be difficult to make out exact words through the glass if they were spoken softly, he could at least hear for when the murmurs of conversation had died down and make his escape. And, if possible, try to save the Sprite as well. He had already risked a good deal for it and it wasn't in his nature to build up hope in those who needed it most, only to dash it across the rocks and flee when they needed him. He wasn't going to let the poor thing just suffer. After all, he would have wanted the same if he were in it's shoes.

Share this post

Link to post

Wide eyes grew even wider at the inclination of something behind him. Sissal turned, pausing their efforts to free their weapon to glance down at whatever had touched them. For a moment, they feared one of autonamata escaped from the crates. They were, after all, often modeled after pets and other animals. But no, it was a cat. A real, living cat.


One their family didn't own.


But the small action of affection in this dangerous setting was comforting to the child. Staring into those wise, knowing eyes brought Sissal a sense of calm. Their grip tightened on their weapon, and, with a final pull, they freed it from its tomb. Soft tinkling from the disturbed glass golems within reminded the young Skyfolk what was at stake. It was their family business. It was their family's lives.


As the trot of hooves approached, Sissal could smell their parents' magic charging up. They would defend their business. And, more importantly, they would defend themselves.




Namina's eyes narrowed further at the creature's snarky response. The brief thought of rattling the cage passed her mind, but she decided against it. The little thing was already miserable, why make it worse?


"No, it's fine. Don't worry yourself." She muttered sarcastically. She was fine. With the state of her skin, it wasn't likely she was going to sleep. It would be a long, agonizing night of resisting a shed. It wasn't safe enough here. Too many people. She'd be chased out again for sure. Father only kept her around when he needed things. When her needed her to change and hide as someone. That's why she had to wait.


She could wait. She could do it.


But the pressure in her body was awful. She was a size 2 person in a size 1 body. She could feel her skin stretching painfully. If father waited too long to request a form, her skin would split and tear. Skin was always the first to go.


Namina moved to push a strand of raven black hair behind her ear. About twenty stands of hair fell out into her grasp. The color from the hair faded almost instantly, blanching bone white in seconds. A bead of sweat trickled down her face. No, not her hair too. She'd been waiting too long. Soon her eyes would hurt. And her teeth. And everything else.


"I was just...just wondering is all...."She strained to speak, turning away quickly as a wave of pain hit her. Be strong. The sprite couldn't see. No one could see.

Share this post

Link to post

They recognized pain when they saw it. And Steven's soft heart for children made Thisbe frown. The Sprite moved towards the other side of the cage, closer to the child, as they narrowed their eyes. "Are you losing hair?" they asked, too quickly. Pressing their lips into a thin line, they inhaled deeply through their nose. Trying again, this time slower, Thisbe grabbed the bars of their cage. "Are you losing hair?"


And, if they weren't mistaken, her lost hair had turned white in a matter of seconds.


"You're in pain," Thisbe went on, slowly connecting dots that had been laid out over time. "You've been fussing with your skin, losing hair that then turns white...," they remarked, counting the strange symptoms off their fingers. "Do you have a disease?" Thisbe questioned.




The Raiders were here.


Slipping into the fallen caravan, Fable crouched. His fur bristled with the sensation of magic starting to gather in the air. The Changeling despised magic; it always unnerved him. Shaking off the unpleasant touch, Fable watched one of the Raiders trot by on their horse. Slipping out from the caravan, Fable leapt with a yowl, sinking his claws into the horse's haunch. The beast spooked, rearing up with a scream and bucking its rider off.


Landing on his paws just as the human hit the ground, Fable smirked. One was disoriented, that just left the others. However, the confusion that Fable created should have given the Skyfolk a starting advantage.

Share this post

Link to post

It was too late. It was already happening. Namina turned away, trembling as the hair in her hands crumbled into dust. It started and it couldn't stop. She'd already been holding back for two days now. The young woman took a step, trying further to get away, but it was to no avail. Her body shuddered violently, skin splitting and sloughing off. Soon, it seemed her whole body melted into a horror of flesh. One pleading look at the trapped sprite, and her form peeled apart.


Not seconds afterwards did the carnage on the ground fade into powder. White dust lifted into the air, its magic pulsing gently. Emerging from the ashes was a small creature, about the size of a bird. Delicate wings stretched out behind it, pale and glowing in the dim light. Its dark eyes looked upwards, searching for the being in the cage above.


In many ways, the small creature looked like a moth. It had large, delicate wings and was covered in soft fur. Its dark eyes, too, were staunchly animal. Fluttering its wings meekly, it seemed too exhausted to achieve any sort of flight. A hopeless look passed across the sprite's face before it settled into the dust around it.


((Mina's new form looks like this))

Edited by shadow_claw

Share this post

Link to post

To say that Thisbe was dumbfounded would be an understatement. They were completely unprepared for what they witnessed. Of the tales they'd heard about Changelings, never had they imagined the reality. What had been a human child, now was an insect-looking Sprite. She was spent from her change, collapsing to the ground with no more than a weak flick of her new wings.


At first, horror and panic flooded their chest, provoking Thisbe into making a sound of desperation.


Then came the anger. It bubbled up from their toes, sweeping away the terror in a crashing wave of red heat. Quickly, the Sprite reached their arms through the bars, fumbling with the latch on the cage door until it sprung open. Out of self preservation, Thisbe had never dared to open the cage and attempt an escape by themself, not when their wings were still tied together.


Now, they didn't care. Too furious in the deception that had just unraveled before them. "You! You - you - you... liar!" they screamed, dropping down from the table the cage rested on. Bending their knees to absorb the impact, they sprinted towards the fallen Sprite and crouched over her, scowling. Pulling their hand back and making a fist, they halted.


For a few heartbeats, they stared at the Sprite, fist hovering beyond their head. A sigh escaped their lips and their tension faded, their arm falling limply beside them. "You're a Changeling," they stated. "Why didn't you let me go?"

Share this post

Link to post

The sprite stared up blankly at Thisbe, their dark eyes unreadable. As soon as a fist was raised, hwoever, she flinched. Insect-like arms covered her face, a frightened look shimmering in her exhausted gaze. Her large eyes squeezed shut in fear of attack. She deserved it. She had treated the little sprite like waste for almost three months. He had a right to be angry.


When no violence ensued, Namina carefully opened one, and then both eyes. Why wasn't she struck? And then his words sank in. Shame burned on her face, her pointed ears and soft antennae drooping downwards. She pulled her knees close to her chest, her gaze fixed on the other sprite's feet.


"I..." She trailed off, lowering her hands just a little. "I'm sorry. I was selfish. And awful. But...I can't be found out. N-not...not again." Her dejected gaze drifted upwards to settle on Thisbe's face. "People...people notice things. A human child would be delighted to have a personal sprite. In a castle filled with humans..." Her wings flicked nervously, as if she didn't wish to continue the thought.


"Nobody likes Changelings. We're parasites. Outsiders. So we force ourselves into roles we don't belong in, beacuse otherwise..." Namina shuddered. Public Changeling executions were often the biggest events of the city. Everyone hated them. Everyone. Only for the fact they tried so hard to fit in.


Rising slowly to her feet, Namina's eyes drifted to the other sprite's bound wings. Once more, guilt bubbled in her chest. How awful it was that she had to change her very nature to feel any sort of remorse. Leaving him be had been essential to her survival. Now...it just seemed barbaric.


"Let me...unbind you. As an apology." She offered, displaying her clawed hands. She could cut through thread no problem. If he would allow it.

Share this post

Link to post

"I'm sorry."


Thisbe's face twisted with a sour expression, a grunt escaping their throat at the Changeling's apology. "You didn't think to leave?" they grumbled. Shaking their head, the Sprite tsk'd and turned around so that the female could see their bound wings. "You do owe me at least that much," they hissed.


With their gaze pointed towards the window, they seemed to pause, a slow thought forming in their mind. They wondered... But, no. That would be too nice of a gift to give to the Changeling after what she had done to them. Still...


"There's an Elf just outside the window. I was trying to catch their attention when you interrupted me. Don't know if they stuck around but I had been hoping they could get me out of here," Thisbe informed. Hesitating still, they glanced over their shoulder. "Don't take it as any sort of kindness but... Come with me," they stated, more of a demand than an actual offer. "You are a Sprite now, after all."

Share this post

Link to post

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.