she's a monster. 

wasn't freya, at one point? no. she'd fooled herself into believing she was - tapu fini's mist had shown her glittering scales, claws on her hands, razor-edged teeth. it had promised her slaughter if she lost herself in a sea of battle, a slaking of her throat with blood and the forgetting of all that made her who she was. 

"yeah, it's complicated," she murmurs. 

she had gone to fernando. willingly gone to fernando and begged him to make her whole. to make the pain of it all go away and give her a chance, a real chance at doing something that mattered. take her worn husk of a body and use it to fuel the fire; spread her ashes across the earth and let her bloom. 

"yes, i've seen it." she eyes him curiously, wondering if he'll bring up the mermaid as well. 

"she killed celebi?" a thin brow arches and then furrows. but that had been cait's voice i heard. cait's pixie promises, assuring freya that she'd been found - finally found. 

her lips thin. she pinches the bridge of her nose, goes back to rubbing her temples. braids slip over her shoulders, wild mane of hair a curtain at her sides to hide the twisted shape of her tearing-up eyes. 

"Yer hidin'. Yer scared. And cus of that you're lashin' out and tryin' ta find someone else ta blame."

get out. she shoves the thoughts from her head with a shuddering inhale and looks wearily up at isaac. 

"i think you're right - that she was hurt. and hurt people hurt people." she rubs one eye, smudging three-day-old-already-smudged eyeliner. "your avatar powers - do you think they could mitigate the effects of another patron's powers?"

long enough to leave her vulnerable?

Isaac Merlo

☉

in some ways, it's not as complicated. certainly they've long since surpassed the threshold of utter insanity. if she looks back at her own rocky road, she'd say it were meeting father winter that made her stop questioning the unexplainable and unforeseeable. the subsequent year, lost to her in an all-too similar, but horribly different way than galar, solidified her mental defenses to the inexplicable. 

calm and compassion. in a roundabout way, she had asked him what he'd attempted to do to her mere minutes ago. can dragonfire be tempered, if she'd allowed him? 

she draws her head back up, fingers laced together, chin propped in her thumbs. her arms crook, balance on her knees, and she looks up at isaac through her lashes, too tired to hide her overwhelming understanding. the pieces fall into place. 

he's gifted her the weapon she needs. 

"we let our fears rule us for too long and we lose sight of who we are. and when we do see ourselves, the selves that got us lost in the first place, that let us down, that hurt us, we only leave room for hate and loathing."

then comes the incessant desire to redirect pain, to stave off the implosion, despite the scratching of the self, the marring of the face and hands to trick oneself into believing they are not that person, they will never be that person.

"we can't save her," she says and finally stands, dusting off the sand from her bottom. "not until she wants to save herself."

she rolls her shoulders. "and there will be plenty of suffering for you, but i wouldn't worry. keep your friends close. keep your compassion. you'll be fine, isaac."

Isaac Merlo

☉

how do you do it? she wants to ask. stand there with a smile on your face and the weight of everyone else on your shoulders? how do you look at your friends, your family, and know that you need to be their everything? even when they don't want you to be? when they don't think you can handle it? 

when they don't want you to handle it alone? 

but you can't help it. you can't show them just that one broken piece because it's not just one broken piece. it's thousands, scattered and out of place and you know, you know, they will try to help you put it back together, but you can't stand the thought of watching them cut themselves on your sharp edges. 

you're not sure, after all of it, if they'll be able to stomach the pain. or, when you're put back together again, if they can stand the sight of you - all super-glued together as you are, cracked and imperfect. 

"one day," she says, voice thick, "when i'm ready, i think i'll ask for your help."

but not yet. not until this is over.

she'll need her hatred. her loathing. her loneliness. and her desperation. she'll need all of it in the fight to come. without it, she doesn't stand a chance.

"and after that, maybe i'll be able to help you too." she nods past him, towards melusine. "us dragons are a loyal bunch."

Isaac Merlo

☉