(no subject)
Never has a homecoming been more bittersweet. She finally sights Neopia in the distance, the high peaks of Terror Mountain shining blue-white in the sunlight. To her right is Kreludor. To the left...the Space Station. His space station, still no longer his in spite of all his trying.
And dead ahead, floating in the stratosphere above the planet she's bound to, is her Token. It calls to her, flashes like a beacon in the darkness. She could spot it if she were deaf and blind.
She is so immensely relieved to be home. She wishes she could fly away and never return, bearing only her Token as her keepsake. She wants to report to Fyora immediately. She wants to spit in the Faerie Queen's face for putting her in this situation.
As she moves toward it, the fatigue is plain, on her face, in her gestures. Her head is drooping, her hair is lank and uneven, her skin pale, her costume still torn. The blue-purple glow that always surrounds her is faded...and tinged with green. The green of his skin.
Lumindra staggers to her Token and is just about to touch it...when a feeling of immense well-being floods through her. She feels as if she's just slept for hours, gotten the best news of her life, been given her favorite foods, and wrapped up in a loving hug. Her exhaustion immediately fades, and she shivers.
The rejoicing of the entire population of Neopia (with a few minor exceptions) floods her with joy. It's the opposite of her headaches. Even the squabbling of the Grundos, orange versus purple, long a contributor to her pain, is gone.
She feels better now than she ever has in her entire life. The creature of pure happiness she is meant to be, a being of infinite possibility, her realm laid out before her to explore. The other Faeries on Neopia think they know control of their elements; she doesn't NEED to control hers. It's there for exploring, always. Always something new and wonderful and awesome to be seen, and it's all hers.
The loop-the-loop she does upon feeling this is a physical expression of that joy, and she actually whoops aloud, her magic making the sound carry in the vacuum. All those hundreds of millions of copies of her Token are forgotten, and she feels herself at something approaching full strength. Her costume mends itself; her skin flushes with health, and she laughs.
Then she remembers.
Her eyes narrow as her Token drifts by her, and her lips press together in annoyance. How could she have been so stupid as to let him hurt her like that? Is this what love was? Forgetting her very own self because she wanted him to like her? Well, that's not very healthy at all.
If they're going to work this out, she's going to have to put her foot down on a few little issues, thank you very much Doctor. Fyora might be telling her to kill Frank, but that doesn't mean she's going to follow through, either. She suddenly realizes that her allegiance to the Faerie Kingdom is a tenuous thing at best, and some of Frank's more pointed jibes hit home. No, they didn't trust her, and she had so much power. Too bad she had no smarts to go along with it, huh?
Sweet, naive little Lumindra, with a head full of stars and a crush on her mortal enemy. Oh, how they all must have laughed at her.
Well, she's confessed to loving. She's hurt, been hurt, compromised with two ideals that she holds dear. She's bled and wept and done things she swore she'd never do. All of that can change a person, even an ageless being of magic and the stars.
If Fyora wants Frank Sloth dead so badly, she can do her own dirty work. Lumindra won't have anything to do with it. And if Frank Sloth wants to possess her so badly, well, he can start toeing the line. She's not a prize, nor is she a doormat.
She is a Faerie of Neopia, and she will not be defeated so easily.
Her gloved hand closes around her Token, and the next chapter begins.
And dead ahead, floating in the stratosphere above the planet she's bound to, is her Token. It calls to her, flashes like a beacon in the darkness. She could spot it if she were deaf and blind.
She is so immensely relieved to be home. She wishes she could fly away and never return, bearing only her Token as her keepsake. She wants to report to Fyora immediately. She wants to spit in the Faerie Queen's face for putting her in this situation.
As she moves toward it, the fatigue is plain, on her face, in her gestures. Her head is drooping, her hair is lank and uneven, her skin pale, her costume still torn. The blue-purple glow that always surrounds her is faded...and tinged with green. The green of his skin.
Lumindra staggers to her Token and is just about to touch it...when a feeling of immense well-being floods through her. She feels as if she's just slept for hours, gotten the best news of her life, been given her favorite foods, and wrapped up in a loving hug. Her exhaustion immediately fades, and she shivers.
The rejoicing of the entire population of Neopia (with a few minor exceptions) floods her with joy. It's the opposite of her headaches. Even the squabbling of the Grundos, orange versus purple, long a contributor to her pain, is gone.
She feels better now than she ever has in her entire life. The creature of pure happiness she is meant to be, a being of infinite possibility, her realm laid out before her to explore. The other Faeries on Neopia think they know control of their elements; she doesn't NEED to control hers. It's there for exploring, always. Always something new and wonderful and awesome to be seen, and it's all hers.
The loop-the-loop she does upon feeling this is a physical expression of that joy, and she actually whoops aloud, her magic making the sound carry in the vacuum. All those hundreds of millions of copies of her Token are forgotten, and she feels herself at something approaching full strength. Her costume mends itself; her skin flushes with health, and she laughs.
Then she remembers.
Her eyes narrow as her Token drifts by her, and her lips press together in annoyance. How could she have been so stupid as to let him hurt her like that? Is this what love was? Forgetting her very own self because she wanted him to like her? Well, that's not very healthy at all.
If they're going to work this out, she's going to have to put her foot down on a few little issues, thank you very much Doctor. Fyora might be telling her to kill Frank, but that doesn't mean she's going to follow through, either. She suddenly realizes that her allegiance to the Faerie Kingdom is a tenuous thing at best, and some of Frank's more pointed jibes hit home. No, they didn't trust her, and she had so much power. Too bad she had no smarts to go along with it, huh?
Sweet, naive little Lumindra, with a head full of stars and a crush on her mortal enemy. Oh, how they all must have laughed at her.
Well, she's confessed to loving. She's hurt, been hurt, compromised with two ideals that she holds dear. She's bled and wept and done things she swore she'd never do. All of that can change a person, even an ageless being of magic and the stars.
If Fyora wants Frank Sloth dead so badly, she can do her own dirty work. Lumindra won't have anything to do with it. And if Frank Sloth wants to possess her so badly, well, he can start toeing the line. She's not a prize, nor is she a doormat.
She is a Faerie of Neopia, and she will not be defeated so easily.
Her gloved hand closes around her Token, and the next chapter begins.