The day found Skid stretched out on the bed Chryrie had fixed for him, since his bleeding had come to be constant and he couldn't stand the look she had when he could actually see her look at him. So far-gone, he took it as a blessing that he'd gone almost completely blind. His eye was a dull, milky red - staring off into nothing all the time. He almost couldn't tell the difference between the eye being open or closed. The spines on his body had grown to the point where the metal tips of whatever was pushing out from within him tore open the skin. Blood dripped out slowly, no longer able to burn through a thing. Nothing was right anymore.

He woke into pain, and there she was, sitting next to him. If she were a nail biter, hers would surely have been down to the quick by now. When he stirred, she drew in a deep breath. In a way, it was a sigh of relief; he was still alive. ?I'm here.. Is there anything I can get for you??

?Hand..? He reached out for her with his good hand. The left was still wrapped in bandages that were soaked through after only a few hours. The right, thankfully, was clear of any marks or spines. It was a saving grace, as he could still touch her without direct pain. He wasn't completely cut-off. At least, not yet. ?It hurts.?

She gave him her hand, holding his gently. Her cheek fell to rest on the back of it. ?I know. I'd offer some pain medication but.... It's formulated for dragons, so I don't know what it would do to you.?

?It's okay.? He forced a smile through a coughing fit, body tightening and twisting in on itself as thick, dark blood spattered his chin. He fell back again, already exhausted. ?You're here.? His breathing was getting thicker; almost as if his lungs and throat were obstructed by something thick, and viscous. It sounded different, but it didn't slow. It was, unnatural.

Chryrie winced, her brows knitted together as if she could have felt his pain. ? I wish you would let Kitty take you to Hell. She has connections there. Surely something there could help you...?

?No.? Skid was weak, but that much about him was firm. ?Not there..? His jaw clenched together with another wave of pain, the spines snapping through his skin with greater ease. The bleeding wasn't going to stop at this rate. One spine had pushed all the way through, though he couldn't tell. It was a diamond-headed design, with a bottom ring attached to a chain, which ran back up into his arm, where it had originated. He was none the wiser. Pain was pain, after all.

Her eyes widened as she saw what came from that spine. ?Oh gods. Skid... I'm not sure how to explain this. But... those things seem to be... chains? of some sort. I... I've never seen this before. I don't know what to do...? Her voice grew panicked. ?Please! Just tell me what you need!?

?Chains...?? His eye went wide, and his hand groped blindly for her arm. ?Chryrie. Put chain.. On my hand. Pull it.. Out.?

?O... okay.? She hesitated for a moment, forcing herself to work up the nerve before she grasped the ring and then tugged it out, and pulled it over into Skid's hand. ?What... is it?

The chain slid out, more links coming with it, as though there were a pile beneath his skin. Each pull caused him to grit his teeth, which had grown long, sharp, and at some places pushed through his jaw and lips. But when he had it in his hand, when he held it? He knew what it was. ?Take me down.. Dungeons, somewhere deep.. Thick door.. Dark. Now!? He began to cough with the rising voice, but he?d given into panic.

He was a danger to her.

Chryrie gasped slightly when his voice rose, but did as he commanded. She grabbed him by his hand, and together, bed and all, they phased through the very floors, until they were at the lower most part of the dungeons. ?Thick door...? Her eyes shimmered, luminescent, as she peered through the darkness, then promptly wheeled the bed into the one with a thick metal door. ?Okay.... We're here...?

?Good..? He let go of her hand, and rolled off the bed. When he hit the ground, he let out an altogether inhuman cry. More spines broke the skin, more chains began to rattle and writhe around him. They began to, move, on their own. ?Get out of the room! Take the bed!? He fought to his knees, spilled blood and bile across the floor, and one of the chains from his spine shot up into the ceiling of the room, pulling him like a marionette. He screamed out the pain, while the chains slithered around his feet.

The bed disappeared in the blink of an eye as she backpedaled out of the cell, slamming the door closed in her wake. There was a slot she could open to look through, but she didn't dare. She just leaned against the door, her forehead pressed against the cold metal. ?Oh Skid... I'm so sorry... I've failed you...?

Chains punched through the walls, ceilings, and floors. There was nothing but Skid's animalistic cry to be heard above the clatter of metal and the crumbling cement. It took a few minutes for it to slow to a dull silence, the sound of the chains in the walls the only thing to tell whether or not there was anything, or anyone, inside the cell. It was then that his breathing could be heard again. A gentle, whining breath, given the force to carry only by the nature of his position, suspended within the room. His voice, overlapped by another, spoke doubly for her. ?Help us..? It was the last thing he said, under his own power. It was the last sign that he was still there.

Chryrie?s hand splayed against the door as she listened. The words made her eyes dart around as her mind raced. ?Us... you... the... oh....? Eventually she'd make sense. ?What do you need? How can I help you? All of you...??

The only response she received was the thick, wet, steady sound of his breathing.

Jewell knew the path to Dark Lake Manor well enough; she had rolled a giant fruitcake there once upon a time. The occasion that took her there now lacked the mischief and merriment of the previous visit, though. She was also a lot less concerned about being spotted. Putting aside her own worries and cares, Jewell was heading to the manor to visit Skid after receiving a very disturbing message from his son, Teshid.

Selfish pursuits abandoned, she gained entrance to the manor with the utterance of her name and was led before the unconscious Skid. Her face twisted into a grimace as she was faced with more than just a sick Skid: here was a reminder of the mortality (or semi-mortality in some cases) of her friends. It was not a welcome reminder.

Ignoring the chair near the bed in the room, she took a seat on the floor?her skirt gathered in an unladylike mess around her knees rather than tucked neatly beneath her?and leaned back against the stone wall, luxuriating in its coolness for a moment.

?I understand you might be able to hear me.? Silence followed, awkward for the Faerie. ?I guess I?ll just talk then. I do so like to hear myself speak, you know, and I can?t imagine you?d be much different!? She fell back on mock pompousness, giving herself airs, a game that well fit the current company.

?I won?t follow the usual decorum of conversation I have been taught; I doubt you are able to remark on the weather anyways. Hmm?? the affectations faded as she puzzled over what to talk about, her manner becoming completely casual, ?so we haven?t really talked since our late night gab session a couple of weeks back. That was fun, you know? I always feel comfortable around you, Skid. I can drop the pretense and fa?ade, but it?s okay when I do continue to pretend too. It?s just like there?s no judgment. We can talk, laugh, eat?eating is good.? She nodded along quietly before her eyes widened, ?Oh! That reminds me.? Up she jumped, grabbing at a poor cloth bag that was tied to her belt and had been absolutely smushed when she had sat down. Jewell untied it and set it down near him, ?It?s cookies. I made them myself, even. People always say to make food for sick friends, so I tried my hand at it. I think they might be slightly undercooked. Not as good as your cooking, at least.?

She sat back down, taking the time to arrange her pale yellow skirt this time. ?Not much has happened since the last time we talked. I still feel conflicted. You know I made my decision with Stephen, but he continues to be so nice and sweet with me. How?s a girl supposed to withstand such things?? She leaned her head back against the wall, shaking it back and forth some. ?And Skyler?I haven?t even seen him lately. Suppose I scared him off.?

?I just want to be free. Spring is in the air.? She closed her eyes, ?I wonder if you can smell it like I can? It makes me want to tear my clothes off and run through a field of wild flowers, letting nature just brush against my skin, become a part of me. And I want to kiss boys and be silly, be sixteen again.?

The wistful smile that had appeared at her own rambling melted away. ?But I?m not. And I am. Do you ever feel so turned over on your head? Or maybe like the universe is turned upside down?? She cracked an eyelid and peered at him?breathing but otherwise unmoving. ?I bet you do,? she intoned seriously.

They shared a one-sided companionable silence for a while after that. ?I should have brought tea with the cookies. We could have had a regular tea party. We can do it when you feel better, I guess, and chat about all sorts of marvelous things. We can even do it near this little clearing I found the other day. The ground is cushioned with just emerging ferns and moss, running wild over the rocks. There?s a great big tree that?s been felled right through the middle of it to serve as a table. I think there are pixies and dryads too! I heard them giggling behind my back. We can invite them; they?re always good for gossip, you know.?

Fingers held up in the air, she examined them as she continued. ?You?re much more fun when you can talk. Though, I guess this isn?t your fault and I shouldn?t expect you to amuse me when you are the one that is sick,? despite the self-reproach, she didn?t sound sorry at all for expecting him to be more fun. ?Maybe I should tell you a story! I always wanted my brother to do that for me when I was sick, but he was always too busy so my nurse had to tell me a story instead. Hers were boring, but I can tell a good story when prompted...?

Months went by and Anafeena became more and more jealous of the budding relationship between her sister and Brohrir. Jameina, on the other hand, had never been happier in her life. Her own misgiving was that Ana was not happy for her; however, she knew that Anafeena could have any man she truly desired and that her sister often did not truly care for the men she pursued. In actuality, Jamei was secretly pleased that despite Ana?s best attempts to draw Brohrir?s attention away from her, his devotion stayed true.

One day, Anafeena stared into her vanity mirror moodily, wondering what it was that she had done wrong to deserve such a fate. Never before had she been denied something she wanted, finding now that it only caused her to want what she could not have even more. ?Jamei has nothing that I do not have! I have charm in abundance, while she is hardly interesting. I have such great looks that put her plain ones to shame. And yet Brohrir loves her and not me!?

She sighed, dismayed that all her attempts to turn Brohrir?s eyes were for naught. She had sang in his presence, her voice stronger and more alluring than Jameina?s, and still he sang Jamei?s praises rather than hers. She spent hours each day attending to her dress and grooming until her chestnut curls shined and her gowns were breathtaking, and still his eye turned not her way. Groaning in frustration and simply out of ideas, Ana leaned forward on her vanity and tangled her hands in the roots of her hair. Even the sparkling sunlight shining in through her window could not cheer her melancholy.

Suddenly, she gasped! A ray of light had illuminated the prism of colors in her hair, highlighting the faint red undertones and suddenly sparking understanding in her eyes. ?That is it!? Out of all the things Brohrir loved and praised about Jameina, it was her hair that always held his eyes. Anafeena now knew what she had to do.

The plan she developed was wicked, the spell she was using unkind, but she no longer cared for her little sister enough to turn back from the course she had laid; jealously was firmly rooted in her heart. When Jamei lay sleeping one night, Ana slipped into her room, the moonlight illuminating the pair of golden scissors in her hand. As her sister slept, dreaming beautiful dreams, Anafeena the Jealous cut off all her gorgeous hair!

Yet, the night?s work was not done. No, Ana had further use for what she had collected beyond her sister?s humiliation. Using a dark spell, she grafted her sister?s hair to her own! As the night progressed and the moon waned, Anafeena watched in her mirror as slowly her curls turned the brilliant red of her sister?s hair, knowing in the other room that poor Jamei?s hair?what little was left of it?would be turning Ana?s previous chestnut brown. She had taken her sister?s one true beauty, leaving her with nothing; now surely Brohrir would be hers!

Ana paced in her bedroom later that day, plotting her next move. She strode towards the windows, mumbling to herself, only to turn back sharply and head for her door once more. Only then did she see Jamei standing there in the open doorway, staring at her sister apprehensively. ?What do you want?? she bit out bitterly. That her plan had not worked was clear, Brohrir still did not desire her even when her beauty was now indisputable by one and all.

?I?? Jameina took a deep breath, fidgeting nervously with her skirt. ?I wanted to tell you that Brohrir and I have decided to get married. We planned our tryst this afternoon, and I was just wondering?hoping, really, that you would come and see us wed?? There was nothing underhanded about her request, nothing devious. Despite what Jamei knew Anafeena had done to her, she still sincerely desired her sister to be present at this happy occasion.

Ana, her eyes clouded by her jealously, only saw another golden opportunity. She smiled coldly to her sister, ?Why Jamei, I would not miss it for the world.?

?Oh! I knew you would agree,? Jamei rushed into the room, giving her sister a tight hug. ?Thank you, Ana. This means so very much to me. We plan to marry at twilight! Please do not be late.? Kissing her sister?s cheek at that, Jamei quickly left; there was so much she needed to get done!

Anafeena pressed her fingers to her cheek where Jamei had kissed it. ?Late? Oh no, I will be right on time.?

The next day, Anafeena was sprawled out on a settee in the family?s grand hall, Brohrir standing steadily behind her. He fed her grapes now and again when she opened her mouth, beckoning him to feed her the juicy little morsels one at a time. She told herself that she loved the way he didn?t object when she nipped at his fingertips, only smiled dreamily before offering her another. This is what she had dreamed of all along: he simply adored her! Anafeena had finally gotten what she wanted.

The doors to the room boomed open, Jameina stepping inside. Her eyes were bloodshot from the many tears she had shed; her whole appearance was tragic. ?You!? She stormed forth towards her sister, Ana sitting up upon her sister?s arrival. ?How could?? the words died in her mouth as Brohrir, at Anafeena?s gesture, stepped forth from the shadows behind her to offer her a glass of wine.

?You were saying, sister dearest?? Ana?s lips twisted cruelly into a mockery of her old smile.

The defiance faded out of Jamei?s frame; still she stood strong before her sister. ?Why would you do this, Ana? Why??

Ana sat up even more, setting her feet firmly upon the ground. ?You knew that I wanted him from the start, Jamei. The question is?how could you steal him from me??

?Steal him?? She asked incredulously, anguished at her sister?s accusation. ?I have helped you earn everything you have ever wanted in your whole life, and never have I ever asked or retained anything for myself. He loves me, Ana! We? we were going to??

?Loved.? Anafeena corrected her sister coldly. ?He loved you and now he loves me.?

?You call this love?? Jameina scoffed at her older sister. ?You have bewitched him! He?? Jamei looked to Brohrir, shaking her head as tears filled her eyes once more. ?He is not even the man I love anymore. You have destroyed him. Is that what you wanted? Hollow worship from an empty shell??

Anafeena gaped at her sister, looking to Brohrir. She knew the whole time, since she had entrapped him the night before that this was not what she wanted. However, she went ahead with it anyways. She realized now that since she could not have Brohrir, she had not wanted her sister to have him either. She too lowered her head to the ground but did not speak, refusing to acknowledge that her sister was right.

They were at an impasse. Ana could not or would not take back what she had done; she would rather live unhappily unloved by the slave she had created. Jameina could never get back the man she loved. And Brohrir beat uselessly at the chains enslaving his mind forever.

At this point, Jewell realized there was no happy ending to her story. In fact, she did not know how it could possibly end at all. It was just going to go on and on and on! Furrowing her brow, she tried hard to think of an appropriate ending for her story. Then, a bright smile rose on her lips.

Silence filled the great hall. Suddenly, the roof was torn off! A giant, fire-breathing red dragon loomed over the three crossed-lovers. They stared at him and he stared back at them. He licked his lips before leaning down and scooping them all up with his tongue. One gulp and their problems were over!

?The end!?