21 Jun 2018, 06:38
Heroes Don't Fail
She couldn’t see under his mask, but Eris knew he was laughing at her, the sound bouncing off the walls of the misty room, baneful and chilling: the sound of someone who was truly malicious to the bone. The villain she couldn’t beat. Her mouth opened in terror as she took a step forward, only to find she didn’t have legs or arms to fight or walk with. She fell to the ground, staring up at the figure with pure terror adorning her childlike features. Eris was unable to do anything, and her dreams echoed those thoughts, showing her just how powerless she was.
She didn’t know when she started screaming, begging for Dorian, pleading for Adam, or Max, Rhea, Sabrina, or anybody to save her, to help her from the figure that approached out of the darkness. But nobody came, her screams were ignored, and the figure stepped forward, a jet of green light flying out of his wand and sending her falling backwards into the darkness again. Of course, now there were no screams. Eris Fawley was fighting against the second villain she couldn’t face--her own mind. In the rebarbative thoughts she was trapped in, in her sleep, there was no safety. There was no friend to save Eris, there was no way to punch and kick her way out of her own mind, and no witty one-liner could protect from her own despair.
The jet of green light faded away as, on the outside, the girl let out a little moan of pain and turned to her side, curling her hands to fists at her side, legs kicking up to curl up in a ball, before she went limp again, acting as if she had never moved in the first place. The sunlight shone through the windows of the hospital wing, yet she did not wake. Sleeping off potions for her injuries, exhaustion, and terror was a timely concept. The girl would not wake, not while she was trapped in her own mind, replying to her own worthlessness over and over again, endlessly looping melancholy thoughts while she slept.
She was adrift in the darkness again, and in the silence of the darkness, she slept fitfully. There were no more nightmares, just darkness. Sometimes she saw through the darkness, faint spots of bright light dancing in her peripheral vision, showing through the cracks in her lidded eyes, as she stirred slightly, finding herself in the blissful halfway mark between sleep and wakefulness. The glowing body of what seemed to be a woman, her face warm as she leaned over the girl, shoving something into her mouth before leaving again. Sometimes she imagined her friends were around her before drifting to sleep again.
It was hours before she finally opened her eyes again, dusk shining through the the windows of the hospital wing. Eris touched a finger to her face, finding it bumpy and itchy, her head bandaged and bruises still dotting the expanse of her whole body. What.. what had happened? When she peeled her finger away from her hand, a gloop of cream came off with it, and Eris blinked rapidly in confusion, drawing the remnants of sleep from her eyes.
The moments of the prior night came back to her in a flash of memories. She and Dorian had faced the figure... and failed? The truth rang through her, causing fresh tears to drip down Eris’s face, unabashed. They had failed against the villain. They had risked their own lives, risked everything to fight against that figure... and nothing had happened in their favor.
“I will find you.”
Any other time, Eris would have leapt at the chance for more violence, to defend herself, to be found by a bully. Yet this was different. They had lost, the burns on her face, the bruises, the bandages, they all attested to that simple, improbable, painful fact. They had failed. The heroes had not triumphed over the villain. They hadn’t been able to save the school. For the first time in her young life, Eris found herself doubting the wisdom of her books. If she and Dorian couldn’t beat a villain, why would life be like a book? It wasn’t fair. They were heroes, so why couldn’t they beat the villain?
What if her story books were just books, what if they weren’t important anymore? They had betrayed her, the logic in the pages of her tomes hadn’t done anything during her fight, and now she bore the marks of her mistakes, of her bravery, on her skin. She hadn’t broken down last night. Even in pain, Eris had managed to stay strong, to fight against the figure, to give it her all.
Hitherto this moment, the girl had put on a tough face, believing herself strong. But alone in the hospital wing, she questioned it all. Was she worthy of being a Gryffindor if she couldn’t defend her own friend, or herself? She didn’t feel brave, she felt horrible. The small part of her that wanted to fight against the figure screamed out, pleading for Eris to stop dwelling on her pain, to plan how to finish the fight, but the rest of her wanted nothing more than to hide in the hospital wing, safe from the threats of being found, under the nurse’s care.
Yet that was wrong. She was a Gryffindor, she would have to fight. She would have to fight, to get up and keep fighting for Dorian and Max, for everyone else in Hogwarts that was hurt or could be hurt. Even if heroes weren’t real and couldn’t always save the day, she would have to be one hero who could vanquish the evil.
If she was a hero, why did she feel so horrible? Drawing the blankets up to her chin, still blissfully alone, the tears fell in earnest without the prying eyes of students and teachers. She might have tried to be a hero, but she was weak; so very weak. How was she even worthy of being called a Gryffindor, or a friend? Or anything?
sorry not sorry bout' what i said
STA: 6 EVA: 7 STR: 1 WIS: 8 ACC 9 ACC: 9
abilities: transfig DC -5