Our Deathly Love

I had to run to get to my next class in time, haphazardly running straight into Rose, who gave me a dirty look before trying to shove past me. I felt bad having run into her, yet at the same time, I knew she had been less kind to me. I knew, though, that I should apologize for my rudeness, because I did not want to have my only semi-agreeable roommate hating me!

“Rose, wait!” I called out to her as I ran forward to grab her arm. As I grabbed her arm, though, I felt a tingling sensation.

My mind seemed to go blank, like a bolt of electricity was running through me. As I opened my mouth to speak, I could not. All I could see was blackness. My heart seemed to explode with panic. I was in the dark, not the hallway. I seemed to have lost control of my limbs. I could not move and could not speak and I was filled with terror. I did not understand what was going on. I knew that something was not right and half of me thought that this was an illusion all on it’s own. I was petrified in that brief moment. Then the vision of darkness and of immobility was gone, as I was now back in the hallway, speechless and staring, wide-eyed and helpless. I watched as Rose threw a sorrow-filled look in my direction, that was also mixed with anger.

“You should not have touched me. No one should know what is to come,” She said, shaking her head sadly. I felt my face go pale. That was not a fixed vision, that was a prediction. My mind was buzzing with questions. What was going to happen, why was I there in the darkness, who would cause me to be there? But as I asked Rose she only shook her head.

“You only saw a glimpse of what was to come, only a second… I only saw a second as well. I wish I could tell you more, but I am as clueless as you are,” She said, shaking her head, her ponytails moving as she did so.

“We must get to class, if we do not hurry we will be late,” She said pulling me. I was on edge about her touch, afraid that it would take me back to that darkness, but much to my relief it did not as she touched me. I made a note in my mind not to touch her again. It seemed that Rose knew where we were going. I found it odd, yet did not question how she knew what class we were both going to. As we walked to the back lawn, where our next class was, we talked about things that did not involve dirty looks or snug remarks.

Rose told me about her family. She was the oldest child of two, and strict Mormon. Her father was a Wizard, a famous one that I even knew. Although he was an Oracle, he was known as The Inventor, for he invented some of the most important magical devices known to our world. Her father, Eric Gable, invented many famous magical items, one of his best known was Vampire sunscreen that allowed Vampires to come into daylight. He also made popular Magic Mirrors, a brand of Summoning Candles, a Color Contact that could hide unusual eye color as well as a body spray for oddly colored magics to be able to blend in better, not to mention MerPolish, a type of scale polish for Mermaids. He was epic in our time, like the Human Bill Gates. Except, from what Rose said, he was cooler.

I will admit, as Rose rambled on, I envied her for such a strong family and father role in her life. Her father was close to her, and famous to boot! Mine was just dead. Although I felt envious of her, I now knew some of what she could do, and added it to the puzzle that was the school’s students. It was weird to think of her in such a manner, but I had a feeling if I ever wanted to understand anyone I would need to look at it this way.

My thoughts diminished as we headed outside into the blinding afternoon light, and then onto the back lawn.

I could see about fifty people standing around. Everyone in my house was here at least, and a few others I had met today, along with many new faces that fascinated and scared me. I felt out of place, as I stood there alone. Rose had left to go flock towards Vincent and a clinging Mikey. I decided instead of standing out of the crowd and being alone, I would hover on the brink of the conversations and try not to look too pathetic.

I could see the back of Chloe’s head, knowing it was her because her platinum blond curls and tall stature was just unmistakably Chloe. Plus I could see in front of her a stretching Arya.

I don’t know why, but as I walked over I could not help myself from laughing at what I saw. Chloe and Arya were in the middle of a now growing male circle, most were watching Arya as she did some unbelievable stretch that made my body hurt just from watching her do it! It was easy to tell she was very flexible, which might be a good thing if all the guys weren’t thinking of what she would be like in bed. Oh come on, I mean, that had to be why they cared, last time I checked most guys didn’t care about Yoga or Gymnastics. All they were there for was the view and by golly, Arya was giving them one. Chloe seemed to blush as the guys came closer; it was obvious that she did not approve of what Arya was doing at the moment. So I was not expecting who came into the picture next. Oliver.

“Arya, really this is not the time to be stretching, cover up already!” he said, annoyed, handing Arya his jacket. I was surprised. If anyone should’ve enjoyed it, Oliver would have been my best guess. Arya seemed to have no clue what Oliver was saying.

“What’s wrong? I’m just stretching! We could be doing something difficult today, and I do not need to strain my muscles,” She asked, confused, cocking her head to the side.

“Just do what I say, don’t ask!” Oliver rushed out, blushing mildly.

I felt it was time to come in and say something amazing, but what ever I wanted to say was lost in my throat, which was good because at that moment our teacher arrived.

Our teacher was tall, scary and buff all at the same time.
His name was Mr. Clean. And he was from Slovakia, and talked with his W’s sounding like V’s!
“I vant somevun to volunteer to be our first fighters of the day. You vill be fighting your opponents until that vun gives up or is incapacitated. Vu is first?” he asked giving us all glares.
“I will go first, because the best must be put forward and show how pathetic you people really are,” smirked the middle-eastern boy from the chapel.

“Who is willing to fight Emil,” said Mr. Clean. I quickly stored away the boys name, waiting to see who would try and take down the leader of the Chain-Gang.

“I will!” cried Trundry excitedly as she jumped up and down. Emil verses Tundry. I didn’t know the extent of either of their powers, but if looks counted, Tundry would be out in seconds. I mean, the girl was half his size and a quarter of his weight. Basically, Tundry in my book was screwed!

I watched cautiously as Tundry and Emil took their stance. They were in the middle of the field walking away from each other. Tundry’s back was to the forest, Emil’s was to the castle. I watched as both got ready to fight. Tundry stood still, closing her eyes as if she didn’t want to see what was going to happen, or she was gathering energy, which one I wasn’t sure of. Emil just stood there a smirk firm against his angular face. Both waiting for the sound of Mr. Clean’s voice to signify the start of the battle.
“Let the battle begin!” He yelled, out blowing on a large whistle. The whistle had to have been magical because it rang through the grounds like a blow horn.

For a minute, nothing happened. And then, it started.

Emil made the first move. He brought his hands out in front of him quickly, pushing air away from his body in a shove like motion. I knew the spell well; it was common, but affective, to say the least. He had done a knock-back spell; I was surprised to see the distance Tundry was thrown back, though. Her body was thrown back like a little rag doll, thrown so far that she hit one of the first trees in the forest. I could hear her surprised whimper of pain. She was shocked by what had happened. I could see she was bleeding from the back of her head, making her hair even redder then before. She seemed startled and stayed on her knees not moving an inch as Emil started the next hand movements for his next spell. He spoke as his hands made a complex set of movements. I was confused. I knew he was buying time, but in the back of my mind I was thinking about what spell he could possibly be using. I just knew I knew it from somewhere, but where? I wasn’t sure.

“So this is the great Seelie Queen? This is the best talent they can put in front of me, the ruler of the Chain Gang? This is the best they can do? Well then, I will have fun crushing your dreams and kingdom, Your Majesty!” Emil laughed out.

Pulling his hands farther apart, I could see the spark of red forming in them and realized just what he planned on doing. A Fireball! I couldn’t help but scream out as he threw it at Tundry. Te Fireball would not stop burning till all it consumed was ashes. It would take only seconds to consume a person. The Fireball would kill her if she were hit.

I was relived as Tundry rolled out of the way of the Fireball. It hit a tree behind her. I watched, shocked, s two people stepped forward to the tree. One of them was the boy who knocked over Arya’s bag on the bus, the one with blue hair, and one was Mercrutio, Tundry’s friend. I expected them to help Tundry, seeing as they were Fae, and Mercrutio was her friend, but they seemed to ignore her and only paid attention to the tree which was burning. The boy with the blue hair put his hands above his head and then threw them in the tree’s direction. Water appeared out of nowhere, dousing the tree in some type of magical liquid that extinguished it. The boy with blue hair, having completed his task, walked out of the way and back towards us, leaving Mercrutio and Tundry on the field. Mercrutio then placed his hands on the steaming tree, as wood seemed to rush out of his hands, surrounding the tree and healing it. Mercrutio also left Tundry alone. I was shocked. Nothing should have been able to stop the tree from burning, nothing! But apparently, Emil was not the only one with very powerful, secretive magic up his sleeves.

I was worried about what would happen to Tundry. If she stayed this way, she would die. Emil was aiming to kill! If she wanted to get out of this, she could at any second, but I was afraid his comment to her had made her too angry to listen to reason.

It seemed that no one thought highly of the Faerie Courts and were ether too stupid or too full of their abilities to realize that such words could grant their death, as Oliver had said people had died for less. I knew if Pandora had been here, she would not be happy at all. Adead princess ould only lead to Emil’s death, then no heir to the Seelie court, leading to wars. Unseelie would see that this was their time to crush the Seelie court for good. The Seelie would attack any witch in contact for their loss, not to mention Angels would slip from their pact with the Unseelie court if they started killing. Shifters would cut off from the world and withdraw, Vampires, Demons, and Werewolves would not be governed by the council of magic as closely and profit, all becoming more powerful from each death the caused. They would not conceal themselves as well, leading to more human involvement. Basically, if Tundry died, everyone’s lives would go straight to Hell, and Pandora would be known as the allowance of the death of magical peace.
So I prayed that Tundry would swallow her anger and give up.

Emil couldn’t do any more spells for a few minutes because of the amount of energy he used.
I watched as Tundry’s head turned and saw her eyes boring into us. Her green eyes seemed to swirl black, like Oliver’s had in class.

Her head pivoted back and stared unblinkingly at Emil. The crowd was unsettled, to say the least, as the silence prevailed.

Then, in the blink of an eye, everything changed.

The ground below Emil was ripped open and large vines as thick as tree trunks threw themselves out of the hole and wrapped themselves around Emil, holding him suspended in midair over the hole. Tremors shook the ground, causing a few of us to fall over. Tundry was standing now, her faerie wings ripped through the back of her shirt. She was unaffected by the tremors because she was just floating in the air. Her eyes were completely black now.
It was obvious she was overtaken by the power.

The tremors were on a large magnitude around the field, but were not even shaking the school.
I even found myself on the ground after a very large tremor. All the fae were fine, some were hovering in the air, the rest were just completely unaffected by the tremor.
Everyone else, though, was helpless to the shakes.

Some of the faerie were helping others as best as they could. Others were surrounding Oliver, waiting for his plan. It was obvious with the way things were, it would come down to Oliver’s leadership.

Tundry and Emil were surrounded by a sea of twisting snake-like vines, grabbing and pulling on both of them. The vines were protecting Tundry, while ripping and cutting Emil. It would be pretty hard to get to either of them.

But that did not stop the orange-haired girl from the chapel from trying. She was constantly being slapped, pushed, and cut by the vines, but that didn’t seem to stop her. Neither did the tremors, which caused her to trip, fall, and hurt herself. Although it seemed impossible, she was unmistakably making a slow and steady progress towards Emil.

An amused-looking Mercrutio pulled me to my feet off the ground. I gave him a dirty look. What was going on didn’t shock him or even give him the slightest worry. So, even as he pulled out a cloth bag filled with faerie dust (faerie dust was what caused the tremors not to effect the fae) I was not happy with him. He poured the dust on my head and I was no longer stumbling around like a chicken with its head cut off, but I didn’t thank him.

“What is that face for? It’s not like I could stop her, or would for that matter. I mean, what did you expect? She would not be the heir to the throne if she couldn’t kill one measly witch!” he chuckled out, highly amused.
I was not though.

“He's not dead yet,” Although I didn’t care about what happened to Emil, really, I mean the boy dug his own grave, Mercrutio had no right calling witches weak.
“No, I suppose you’re right. Not yet, anyways. I do wonder what the boy king will do. I suppose he will try and kill Tundry. The witch is not worth his time, but gives him a great opportunity to get rid of the Seelie queen and start a war,” Mercutio mused to himself, looking at Oliver. Oliver was standing next to Tristan. They were having a fight of sorts. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I had a feeling it was about Tundry and what to do.
“I don’t think he is capable of killing. If anything he’s just some rich boy,” I said, rolling my eyes.
“That just shows how little you know of the courts’ histories. Oliver has killed numerous times. He killed his own brother so he could be king. Not to mention, he banished his mother to the Neverlands. His whole family is crazy, but you must be to rule one of the Courts. I was Unseelie once and I will admit Oliver scared even me-he loses his temper quite often. Tristan is one of the only things that keep the king stable. Although most don’t like the fact that Oliver chose a fallen to be his adviser, I believe that all would have been lost long ago if he had not. Oliver is a ticking time bomb, and so is Tundry. I hope by time they both explode, I will be long gone and living life high,” Mercrutio said, shaking his head sadly and walking away.
I looked at Oliver, surprised. Even after what he did to Campton at class, I never pegged him as a cold-blooded killer.
I watched as Oliver started towards Tundry. Tristan was yelling at him now. Oliver just smiled, and ignored him. Tristan made his way over to me.

“What’s he going to do?” I asked confused.

“How the heck should I know?” He growled out at me, although he didn’t leave so I assumed he was just mad at Oliver.

“Well you are his adviser...” I said quietly not looking him in the face. I didn’t want to set him off, but I needed to make him give just enough information away.
“Yes, I am his adviser, and I advised him to do nothing. I know that may seem cold to you, but we do not need another war! War! War! War! All they do is fight. For heaven’s sake, Tundry isn’t the Seelie courts’ worst kept secret weapon for nothing! He is going to get himself killed!” Tristan growled, staring angrily at Oliver who was laughing as he twirled out of the way of vines that were going for deathblows.

I wondered if Oliver liked death or was one of those adrenaline junkies, you know the ones that jump down stairs, propel of buildings, climb caves, and all that jazz. I wondered if he was afraid of what would happen if he slipped. Or if he was too full of himself and his own importance to realize he could very well die. Either way, Oliver kept on, twisting and twirling some crazy dance-like thing, getting slowly closer to Tundry. I wondered what Oliver planed on doing. Would he kill Tundry right in front of us? Would she scream? Or was she too far gone to even realize pain? Could you ever not feel pain, even if you were not really all there at the moment, wouldn't you? The real question was, if he killed Tundry, how would he kill her? Would he suffocate her, like he tried to do to Campton, or would he snap her neck? Or would he do something I had never seen before?

I forced myself not to think about what Oliver would do once he got to Tundry and instead forced myself to watch as things progressed.

The girl with the orange hair had somehow made it almost to Emil. She was crawling and trying her best to cope with the Earth tremors that were shaking the field. Unlike Oliver, who seemed to be viewing this as a game, the girl was determined, and very angry.

Oliver, on the other hand, was dancing his way past the vines, right up to Tundry without as much as breaking a sweat. I was not sure why, but I was worried for everyone. This had the look of easily ending badly and that scared me. I did not know why it bothered me. It should petrify that girl, Oliver and Emil, as well as all involved, but not me, a solitary witch. I had no real ties to any of them, yet I fretted over the outcome like my own life depended on it.

So as Oliver reached Tundry, my chest and stomach twisted and tightened. I was happy, but I also dreaded what he was about to do-stop Tundry from hurting anyone.

My eyes strained to see what would happen as Oliver snuck behind Tundry's floating body. I could see his wings as they, like air, appeared outside of his shirt, not ripping the shirt because they were nothing but what seemed like colorful gas. I wondered silently to myself what the wings were really made out of and thought I might ask Tundry- if she made it out alive, that is. Mercrutio thought she would be dead. I know it was weird, but even though I had made up my mind that he would do it, I could not look away. I could not, not give Oliver the chance to prove the allegations against him wrong. To show he was more than a pompous prince as Arya had called him earlier, and show that he had a heart.

I watched as he floated off the ground behind Tundry as a vine whipped at him, he dodged and rammed into Tundry, causing her black eyes to flash for a moment back green as she hit the ground, but the glimmer of her eyes disappeared almost immediately as they were consumed by the black again. She did not cry out as she hit the ground. She did get back up though, zombie like, robot like. Soulessly, as though still under the control of the power. She did not even face Oliver, like she was still unaware he was there. It was weird, her concentration all on Emil. She must have trusted her vines to keep Oliver busy. Or she couldn’t comprehend that anyone besides Emil was even on the field. Which of the two I was entirely unsure of.

All I knew was when Oliver hit her; Emil was the one to scream out in pain. I suddenly realized that the vines not only were squeezing the life out of Emil, but were giving the pain Tundry was feeling to Emil! So if the vines did not kill him, Oliver would inadvertently do that himself.
As I looked at Emil, I saw the orange-haired girl trying to get him out of the vines. She had finally reached him. She sent frost and fire from her fingertips, trying to kill the vines, but only achieved hurting Emil more, he was connected to the vines, she did not realize that the more she tried to kill it, the more she was hurting Emil.

She was loosing the battle, and Oliver seemed to be not taking this as seriously as he should have been. He was mocking the vines, twisting just out of their grasp, barely missing their green clutches. He could not get to Tundry now, no matter how well he could dodge. The boy was playing a game that he could not win and was now just ticking me off.

"Do you think Oliver realizes that this is not some game?" I growled at Tristan.

"What do you mean? Now that I see his plan, I think if he tries hard enough it will work," Tristan said, giving me a doubtful look as if I had no clue what was going on.

"He has a plan?" I asked, confused. "All he’s doing is drawing even more of those vines to him." I muttered.

"That’s the point! Now not so many vines are guarding Tundry, they are going after him! If he gets another hit on Tundry, the vines will see him as the only threat at the moment, and chase him!" Tristan said, shocked and exasperated as Oliver did just that, knocking Tundry back to the ground. He took off, zigzagging across the field, all of the vines chasing him except for the few holding Emil. At one point, Oliver zoomed right by us so fast I almost missed his words.
"Your turn, Tristan!" he laughed out, the vines in quick pursuit after him. I felt a wave of air as they came inches from my face as they shot after Oliver. He was heading into the forest for better coverage.

I was shocked as Tristan grabbed my arm and started pulling me out on the field with him.
"WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?" I screamed out at him, trying to claw my wrist out of his grasp.

"We have to stop Tundry! Before she really hurts someone!" he said, now running with me in toe.

"Really, I never heard WE in Oliver's comment," I stated, scrambling behind him.
All of a sudden, a vine ripped out of the ground inches in front of Tristan and I. Scared and shocked, I instinctively shoved my hands up towards it and watched as the vine that was coming towards us blew up into fiery little pieces. I could hear a scream from Emil and I silently apologized, as Tristan pulled me along faster now.

"That is why I need cover! I can't do what I need to with vines ripping my head off," He stated.

"What, do you mean you knew I could do that!? I didn't even know I could do that!!" I cried, confused and looking at my hands with appreciation and amazement.

"For one, you're a witch, and a powerful one at that. You would have to be powerful, to be a Necromancer. Have you ever met anyone else who’s like you that’s not related to you?! For another thing, anyone will protect themselves when in danger. And let’s face it, you and Oliver may be the only ones that would cover for me and not slip the magic on purpose, " he muttered the last part apologetically.

"I so did not sign up for this Tristan," I sighed out in defeat. Dang boy, playing a sympathy card on me at a time like this!

My heart soared, though. Someone thought that I was powerful! And it was true, I had not met any other Necromancer before, except my father, and I hardly remembered him myself. Maybe Necromancers could blow things up, I mean, why not? So many ideas of things I could try that I had never thought to try before sprung up in my mind. So, as another vine shot towards us I knew what to do. I don't know how, but I did.

It came natural to me as the vine came closer. I swung myself in front of Tristan, holding my hands out in front of me. I pulled my arms together, away from my body and then back again as quickly as I could, making a half circle with my arms. As the vine tried to go where my arms had been, it seemed to hit a wall and flew back, falling to the ground. The vine didn’t get back up. I knew that I had unanimated it because Emil wasn’t screaming in pain.

Tristan and I didn’t question the force field, but was grateful. I did wonder if the power was mine, or some gift from Hecate herself. Or possibly, if Chloe was right, God? Whoever did it was giving me this power for a reason, and I was not ready to disappoint them, or Tristan. I was even happier as the force field, which had taken on a blue color, followed us.

I moved behind Tristan, keeping my eyes on the only part of the force field did not cover, the back. Tristan and I were running at this point, not even stopping as vines hit the force field. The vines didn’t seem to realize that no matter what they did, the force field would stop them, so they kept bombarding us, hitting each side of the blue shield. I only had to blow up about three or four of the vines, and silently apologized each time to Emil.

As soon as we were close to Tundry, the vines didn’t follow. That was not their job. They were to guard the field, not Tundry. Oliver had seen that even before we did, making me feel like a fool. I felt safer as we got closer to Tundry. I know that sounds odd, but I had a feeling Oliver would not be easy to kill. He had basically taken all the risk and left us with an easy mission. Stop Tundry, at all costs. I knew it was not my job to do so, but I felt obligated to help Tristan. I broke my first rule, trust no one, because truthfully, I trusted Tristan. I didn’t know why, but I did.

So I stood guard, my back to Tristan, as we walked to Tundry, who was laying on her side from Oliver's last hit. She was just laying there, her black eyes lifeless like a dolls'. She didn’t move, but she was not dead either. She looked just like an oversize doll, her curly hair covering her face. Only her eyes gleamed out, black and rippling like water.

I kept myself near Tristan as we came in touching distance of her. That was when I realized what was going to happen. I gasped. Tristan would kill her. I threw myself in between Tristan and Tundry frantically. Tristan seemed confused at what I was doing.

"Emmy, move! I have to stop her!" He yelled, trying to yank me out of his way. But I held my ground, not budging an inch.

"I won't let you kill her, Tristan! There has to be another way," I said, frowning slightly as I looked at Tundry's small crumpled body.

"I don't plan on killing her! Even if Oliver told me to, I wouldn’t, which, if you are wondering, he did not. Not everything you hear about him is true, especially coming from Ex-Unseelie court members," he said, frowning slightly as he went past me and bent on his knees. Tristan placed his hands on Tundry's throat, breathing in slightly and exhaling deeply. He pulled his hands from her throat up to her lips and seemed to part them with his fingers.

I watched in amazement as something seemed to crawl under Tundry's skin and emerge from her mouth like wisps of smoke and black water-spinning erratically in a orb the size of a tennis ball. It seemed to come straight to Tristan's hand without him even needing to grasp it. It was attracted to him in some weird way that I could not begin to understand. I knew it was her soul. I mean, I've heard of being heartless and having a black soul, but not literary. I wondered idly if my soul looked like that as well.

Tristan ignored Tundry's body and brought her soul to me.

"Emmy, we have to fix the color," he said.

"Why? And how?" I asked, confused.

"The darker the color of the person’s soul, the more powerful they are, and intake of too much power puts them in the black, like Tundry. Then they are consumed by power like she is. We can only fix her soul by taking in some of the power ourselves. I will take in as much as I can, but I might need to have you get the rest. As much as I would not like to do that, we might have to risk it. She is drawing in too much power and if we don't act soon, she could be stuck like this forever. Oliver would have to kill her whether he wanted to or not," Tristan explained.

"Why don't you want me taking in any of the power?" I said, confused.

"Before we came out here to stop Tundry, Emmy, I could see your soul. It was dark ruby then, but now it’s maroon. You are gaining power like crazy, just like Tundry. I'm afraid what would happen if I let you absorb too much. We have to get this just right. All of us would be in the red zone and would need a break, but if I mess up even a tiny centimeter on how much I let you or I have, we could end up just like her," I was taken aback by his comment and a little afraid myself. I had not signed up for this, but I had a feeling I had no choice. If I told Tristan I would not help him, I had a feeling, for Tundry’s sake, he would fix her and cause his own death.

"Okay, what do I need to do?" I asked, apprehensive, as Tristan smiled a small, sad smile. "I want you to sit down Indian style, facing me, and hold your hands out. Palms up, please," He said, doing the same. My palms were empty, yet his held Tundry's soul. His small, reassuring smile seemed fake on his face. I was in uncharted waters here and was scared about drowning in what was to come. But I did as he asked, taking a breath I watched and.... nothing happened.

"Um... what now?" I asked, confused.

"I will have to hold her soul. Even though you are a Necromancer, it would just go through your hands and she would be lost. What you want to do is lean into the soul, bringing your face as close to it as you can, and breath in as deeply as you can. I will tell you when to stop. I must warn you though, your head is going to hurt. When you breathe in her soul's power, you are breathing her in as well. I don't know what you will see, feel, or hear, but you must not pay attention. You MUST listen to me. If you breath too much of her soul in… For normal people, it’s death. Reapers experience memories and power, but a Necromancer... I have no clue what would happen, but it would not be good, trust me," he said, not smiling now.

I leaned down into Tundry's soul, only inches from Tristan. My heart didn’t beat fast like it did when I was around Jasper. I didn’t feel any attraction to him really, but I did feel extremely comfortable, safe almost. It shocked me that I was feeling like that, but some how I had a feeling that Tristan and I would become friends, real friends. Not like Mya and I, but something real, something I could hold onto. He wouldn’t judge me because he had been there before and had been grasping for normalcy just as I had. I was about to comment about it when I was sucked into feelings that did not feel like mine. Greed, envy, anger, lust, power. It all soared into me like a time bomb, filling me so full I thought I would bust if I took another breath, but knowing Tristan was going through the same thing, I did.

Taking another deep breath, holding it in my lungs, it tasted moldy, almost sour, like breathing in a room that had been left to rot for many years. This was the flavor, for say, of Tundry's soul. The more breaths I took the more of her pored into me. It was like when I went into Arya's body, except ten times worse. Now along with the feelings were the pictures, small blurred pictures, freeze frames and agonizingly painful feelings that went with each picture.

A picture of a small girl being pulled around by a larger boy around our age, was the first to pop up. The boys' ringlets of red hair and light blue eyes were sparked with mischief. I knew the boy was the Puck that Tundry had talked about earlier. Every picture of her that flashed by had him some how in it. He never seemed to age, even as Tundry herself grew. Her feelings about him in each picture seemed to change. Each frame as well, from admiration to pure contempt. I don't know why but stories seemed to ring themselves around each picture.

The most shocking was a small clip of photos showing a smiling Tundry in curly pintails and a party dress on the phone. Puck was in the background, lighting birthday candles. He had a frown on his face. I was filled with the words, whispering them to myself as he said them.

"Tundry please, don't get your hopes up. They didn't say that they were coming, they said maybe," he whispered, lighting the candles.

"Puck, you are sooooo silly, of course they are coming! I'm a big girl now, I mean, I am nine! It’s my golden birthday!" she cooed out at him, a small smile and a giggle on her lips... followed shortly by a small frown forming as she argued with her parents receptionist.
"NO! THEY SAID THEY WOULD BE HERE! THEY SAID THEY SAID THEY SAID!!! YOU’RE LYING, YOU NASTY LADY! THEY ARE NOT IN MEXICO, THEY ARE HERE IN IRELAND! THEY ARE COMING!" Tundry and I screamed into the phone/air.
I watched as Tundry fell to the floor screaming, throwing a tantrum. The whole house started shaking! Potted plants shattered, coming to life and attacking the house in general, as well as Puck, and a few angry maids and butlers who seemed to pile into room, giving Puck and Tundry dirty looks. I knew they were whispering things about needing to control the little monster. Puck did nothing as Tundry threw her fit, even though the maids and butlers brought up multiple ideas on how to stop the brat. All Puck did was wait until she tired herself out and put her to bed, the party now ruined and the birthday girl now far to tired to even sit in her chair.
Other pictures seemed to spin past me at a faster rate, now to a point of only a few months ago. Puck and Tundry were sitting in a very long dining room, the room grand with polished silver, a dark brown carpet, and a fire roaring, heating it to a splendor. Tundry and Puck sat at the far ends of a table that could seat at least twenty, yet was bear, except for the place settings for those two. Tundry was sitting very proper-no elbows on the table, perfect posture, eyes glassy and almost inhuman. She barely touched the bowl of tomato soup that was set in front of her. Her eyes were on Puck, who was looking at her a frown and worry set upon his face.
"Tundry, I don't think you should go," he said, worried.
"You are not my parents. My own father granted me permission to go, why should I care what you say?" She asked, breezing through his comment bitterly.
"I might have well been. I raised you not him, and it’s not safe," he said, giving her a hurt look.
Tundry only laughed.
"I don’t want to be safe, I want out of this iron house! I want to live!" Tundry yelled at him, standing and stomping away from the table, leaving Puck there all alone to continue his meal in silence.
The picture faded to black and freeze-framed on Puck’s expressionless face.
Then I was hit with a tidal wave of feelings. Greed, anger, possession, wanting, lust. All those things hit me in the blink of an eye, swallowing me bit by bit, piece by piece, until I was consumed by them. Consumed by Tundry and her ragged hormones, her shallow wants and needs. I was prepared for the pictures that popped up. They were of expensive things she used as a way to cope with the emptiness of her parents’ absence. I was not expecting people, though I assumed those feelings would be towards objects, things she really owned. Not people! You could never truly own a person, a concept Tundry did not fully understand, as I came to find out. The pictures started off innocently enough, pictures of dresses, dolls, pets, things most little girls wanted, and at first it seemed like Tundry got everything she wanted. Rooms upon rooms filled with everything a little girl could wish for. But it slowly started to change, the pictures of what she wanted. She wanted more people to worship her and fill her with a fake love that she direly wanted. As she grew and the pictures changed, so did Puck. He became less of a parent figure and more of a prison keeper to her, making her stay in the house and making her treat people differently than she wanted to. To her, he was the reason she was not loved. He was the reason her life was not what she wanted it to be. He was stopping her from doing what she wanted to do and she resented him for it.

Tundry thought that owning people was possible. Her parents owned Puck, or at least in her mind they did. Her parents owned the kingdom and all of the Seelie court. And the Court loved her parents so in Tundry’s mind, she would only be happy when she owned everyone and was loved by all. Her reason was that because they were loyal to her, they would love her. I would disagree on that though. Mercrutio was loyal to the Seelie court, or at least that is what he called himself, and yet he didn’t really give a rat’s rear end about Tundry. It seemed almost funny to me that as Tundry pushed Puck away, she pulled people like Mercrutio close to her. To me, it was like she was pushing away the only person in her life that was reliable and showed a constant amount of compassion and tolerance for her. I didn’t know if Puck loved her or not, in any form, but he was looking out for her, trying to take care of her.

In a way that, to me, is one of the closest things to love there can be-someone who deeply cares about your future and outcome.

I suddenly realized something was wrong. No more pictures were coming up, and a sour feeling filled my stomach. I was in a dark room, like in Rose’s vision! Suddenly my breath hitched. I couldn’t move at all. Each breath I took seemed to cause me to be more restrained! I panicked and struggled more, taking even more of Tundry’s power in. In the very back of my brain, I knew that what I was doing would only make it worse, that I needed to calm down before I got myself killed, but I couldn’t. I was in a small, enclosed space, or at least I was mentally, which was causing me to hyperventilate. I could hear shouting in the background but at that point, I could hardly move even an inch. It was like the walls of the dark room had closed over me like a veil of dark silk, tightening its grip and smothering me with its softness. I was gasping for air and trying to calm myself, honing in on the voice that I could hear screaming. It took all my power just to pay attention to the words.

“Emmy! You have to stop! Oh, what have I done? Emmy, please! You have taken far too much! You could die, or-or worse!” Screamed out a voice.

I knew in the back of my mind, over the buzz of the mind-numbing headache that I was getting, that it was Tristan. But I didn’t know how to process this information. Stop how? I could hardly move, let alone break free of this world.

That was when another voice started to pipe in. It was Tundry, and yet, it was not. I could see nothing, but I could hear her speaking to me, whispering instructions. I had read that once a soul had been extracted by an angel that it couldn’t have a conscious mind. But then, what was telling me to breath even more deeply and to stop fighting? I knew that if I did breath more, I could very well suck her soul in as well. I don’t know what would happen if I did, but I had a feeling, sooner or later, I would.

Tundry and Tristan’s voices became, if even possible, louder and with the increase in their voices came a light in the darkness. It seemed to pop out of nowhere. This sliver of white light moved through the darkened room like a snake, twisting and shaking its way until it was just inches from my body. It began to expand and contract rapidly, exploding color from every breach until the white light disappeared. In its wake was left a kaleidoscope of colors, exactly the same size and length as the original sliver of light. The colors whispered things to me as they passed through my body, trying to worm Tundry’s memories into my own, trying to make me into Tundry. All the while, Tundry and Tristan’s voices screamed things to me.

Tristan telling me to hold my breath and scoot back, and Tundry to stop trying to fight off the colors. That was when I realized that what was happening to me was not what had happened to Tristan. He was in the normal world, viewing the visions of Tundry. If he even saw any in the first place and I was in Tundry’s mind. Or at least some hollowed out aspect of it, surrounded by darkness. I knew that this was not really Tundry, this was her soul mad on power. This was not her conscious self. I didn’t believe she was evil. A bit of a spoiled brat? Yes. Evil? No! Right now, her soul was in control. This was not really Tundry. This did not apply to right and wrong, good or evil, it only applied to primal instincts and it’s main instinct was knowing that if it did not have a body, then it did not exist. Her soul didn’t realize that her body was usable; all her soul knew was that I had a body and it could be used, if a little cleaning was done. Removing my soul, or pushing it so far down it would not surface, being the ‘cleaning’.

It did its best to try and fill me with memories of Tundry, of her life, of her goals, and erase mine all together. It worked well; I mean, how did you fight off light? And after a while, Tristan’s screams became incomprehensible because I had no clue who this Emmy person was. At that moment, I was Tundry. At that moment her soul had won.

But that was when the soul made its mistake. One of the last memories it tried to fill into my head were of her parents-cold, uncaring, unflawed in every way and not the least bit sorry for the wrongs they committed and in that, utterly adored by Tundry. That is not me. I knew that was not me, I would never feel that way about my family. My mother, at times, could seem cold and uncaring, but I knew deep down she truly loved me. And as for my father, he saved my life! He cared about me, he loved me above all else. He could have stayed out until I died and become a ghost and stayed with my mother, but he valued my life enough to leave and save me. He was not the cruel, cold man Tundry’s father was. There was no doubt in my mind and that is what saved me.

I shivered in that dark room, my mind not in a total haze and now equipped to fight. Her soul had not been expecting that so it had also given me the information that I needed. How to get out and how to banish the lights from my body.

I closed my eyes, harnessing the power that I had gotten from taking Tundry’s in. Breathing out as fast and hard as I could, I spit the colors out, the memories, the feelings, and watched as the colors hit the walls of the room, filling it with a picture of what was going on in the real world. A picture of Tristan, Tundry and I, all in the middle of the field. Tristan holding a now light green orb; Tundry’s soul. And me, passed out on the ground. I knew that I could do what was necessary. I had banished Tundry’s soul from mine. I was myself again and felt no tugging of her memories buried deeply within me. In fact, I hardly remembered half of what I had seen from the colors. So I had no hesitation as I walked though the picture and into my own body.

I could feel the air crisp on my face as I laid there, my body sore and tired from the mental struggle that had occurred. I realized when I had landed, I had fallen on my injured wrists, which I had carefully been avoiding harm from all day long. Now they were flooded with pain, as well as my head. I could hear a confused voice as I opened my eyes and tried to sit up.

“Emmy? I thought… I thought…” The stuttering was coming from a confused Tristan, who looked relieved and slightly worried all at the same time. He reached towards me-holding Tundry’s soul!! I couldn’t help but jump back with a squeak.

“Keep that thing away from me!” I cried out, not wanting anything to do with her soul.

“Sorry! I’m just shocked, that’s all… You took far too much of her soul in, you should be dead… or worse,” Tristan said, confused as he got up and went over to Tundry’s body. He placed the soul up to her throat and pushed it back into her.

“She was going to try and get control of my body,” I said, confused.

“You have to be mistaken, no matter how powerful you or she is, she wouldn’t be able to take control of you! Are you sure you weren’t hallucinating?” Tristan said, quietly and almost to himself.

“I know what I saw and I know what was going on!” I shouted angrily. Tristan didn’t believe me, he didn’t believe the truth!!! But, to be honest, I didn’t want to believe it, either.