quaintrelle (noun) - a woman who emphasizes a life of passion

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥  darkside by neoni

CORDELIA DOESN'T REALLY
KNOW WHERE SHE IS

The last thing Cordelia remembers clearly is going to get Echo a glass of water. They'd gone on a walk, and although Echo's tears didn't last long, they'd remained quiet, and her silence had bothered her enough to insist that her friend take a seat so she could find her a bottle of water of some kind around.

Dizzying thoughts pulsed in and out of her head as she grasped onto the tendrils of memory she'd managed to hold on too. Cordelia knew that someone was pulling her, she was vaguely aware of the hand on her arm, unfamiliar and viciously cold, and yet she felt powerless to stop it. Intermittent rays of street lights blared into her vision, rapidly forcing her back into a state of dreamy consciousness.

Where am I going?

She could hardly even grasp her steps in front of her, stumbling over her feet as an attempt to stutter out some kind of denial, some kind of argument towards the man dragging her away down a dark street.

Where is Echo?

Deep, dark dread pooled in her stomach, coating the insides of her thoughts. Cordelia could feel herself slipping, like she couldn't find anything to hold onto at all, like she was drowning somehow in her own buried soul. Her limbs wouldn't respond to the panic that had begun to take hold of her mind, the slow realization of what was actually happening beginning to grasp her very being in phantasmal talons.

I was drugged.

God. Racing adrenaline shot up her spine, and some soft, incoherent sound escaped her mouth, something like desperation as she attempted to articulate something; anything, really. The man's grip tightened against her wrist, and dull, flaring pain slowly began to encompass it. It was going to bruise, that much she knew. Fear sat heavy in her stomach, hollowed eyes darting back and forth from the street around them, anxious to find something that could help her.

Cordelia doesn't even feel like much of the night is even within reach of her memory, it feels muffled and distant, like trying to enhance a picture blurred by water. She can hardly remember the argument, the fury that had run deep into her chest like a bullet wound. She couldn't really explain why it had hurt so bad to see Echo yelled at, but it did.

Maybe it's because Echo was the only person to treat her like a friend at first. More than a friend.

Like a sister.

Frantically, Cordelia searched her mind for information, for her magic that she'd grown to at least recognize. It was that same thick-coated feeling, like the magic of her soul had been blurred over as well, so that soft, pliant feeling sung in thunderstorms down her body.

Suddenly, she felt her body be shoved forward, into the open back door of a car, and a sneering, horrible laugh rumbled from the man behind her. He leered in front of the swinging door, looking down at her with a grin that could only be described as malicious.

Then it happened.

There was a moment where the air suddenly felt static, like the very existence of movement would disrupt everything in the universe beyond the dark, deadly skies that reached so far above them. Slowly, Cordelia felt the hair on her arm raise, and the sharp, thick smell of smoke ran through her nostrils, tears pricking her eyes.

It was only another single moment before the door of the car itself was ripped off its hinges, sending a blaring alarm down the cold, abandoned road beside the forest edge. Cordelia was still as she watched a figure step slowly closer to the man, who suddenly looked much paler than before.

Cue?

No. Not Cue. Not at all.

Echo.

Echo was standing stock still in front of the busted door, back to Cordelia. It was eerie almost, how quiet she was in the darkness, how her fingers twitched, just once or twice from what Cordelia could see.

"I am going to kill you." Echo's voice isn't her own. It doesn't sound like her at all. There's a kind of darkness that laces each word, spilling out of her mouth like venom. The car alarm has stopped now, but Cordelia hardly registers it as that same staticy feeling lines the air, sinking it's teeth into the sounds of the forest around them. Silencing each, little, living thing that breathed within it.

Echo's wings were back.

They were back, but they weren't the same anymore. It felt like the world slowed down as Cordelia pushed up on her hands from the backseat of the car, watching with widened eyes as dark flames began licking up Echo's arms, the smoke curling around each perfect little beauty mark and running in lines down her back, creating a winged shape before the fire exploded into stardust, and ignited them all over again. Dark feathers of flame danced along her spine as wings of fire and fury manifested out of nothing, crawling down her shirt as the fire itself began to encompass Echo entirely, burning down her skin, and outlining her figure in licks of blazing agony.

Echo laughed.

Maniacally almost, her voice reaching that same hallowed, demonic sensation as she spoke again, wings raising in the beauty of wildfire. "I am going to kill you!" She shot forward before the man even knew what had hit him, her hand on his neck as fire-freckled fingers dug deep into his throat, holding him against the strong bark of a tree as the fire that had started to consume her singed the leaves and branches that hung a little too close.

Cordelia watched in horror as fingerprinted burns scattered over his neck where her nails dug into skin, watched as she dropped his figure to writhe on the ground for a moment, gasping and choking for air. She watched as Echo stepped back, wings still high as he scrambled up and away from her, coughing as he vanished into the embrace of the wicked thicket that sat silent against the world.

Echo didn't follow.

Cordelia watched as darkness threaded from the ground, trailing in threads after him, howling and wailing suddenly lining the edges of forest beyond them. Sinking black magic spinning in tendrils and tentacles as the darkness itself stretched forward beyond mortal comprension, building a bridge between life and death in that slow, suffocating way.

It didn't look like Echo's magic at all, but it still felt like hers. She hadn't talked much about what she had seen when she rescued Asia that dark, dreadful night on the beach, but from what she had explained, Cordelia made the connection. It was Asia's magic, just in Echo's body. Like Echo had somehow embedded what she had seen into her own abilities.

An echo.

Echo stood there, watching him vanish, fingers twitching again as that fire slowly ate her away. Cordelia couldn't even see her skin anymore, the flesh covered in that furious black fire that stayed furiously blazing.

Slowly, she watched Echo turn to face her, or at least, what Cordelia guessed she did. Her heart slowly sunk into her chest as she realized she suddenly felt more sober than she had a moment ago, meeting Echo's eyes. They were the only thing not covered, but were wide, and wholly dark, hallowed out almost.

Help me.

Cordelia didn't hear Echo say the words. She felt them. A different kind of panic raised in her throat as Cordelia struggled to her feet, scrambling from the car herself as she darted over to her friend, now bound in fire and agony.

The heat hit her before she could even reach Echo, and Cordelia narrowly skidded to a stop before touching her at all.

Oh.

Oh no.

Cordelia couldn't reach her. It was so hot, far too hot that no doubt she would be severely burned the moment they came any closer than a foot or two. Wide-set anxiety pumped through her blood, vision and memory clearing as she frantically looked around them both. "Echo." Cordelia barely heard her own voice, hoarse from alcohol and panic, "Echo I don't know what to do."

Echo didn't respond at all, slowly, evenly blinking as fire-flared wings raised. Cordelia realized what was happening before it actually did, and felt her face pale. Echo was going to burn.

"Echo, just tell me, tell me what to do- I don't know what to do."

Her friend didn't so much as respond before she shot off the ground, up into the dark, starry sky. She camouflaged almost immediately, even with Cordelia doing her best to trace the night sky for her whereabouts. Sharp, wicked pain burned in tracks down her heart, and desperately, Cordelia searched for her own power, her own magic.

Cue had said she would get wings when she needed them most, where were they now. Echo needed her, needed someone, she was burning alive for God's sake. Still, her magic felt coated in that thick, slippery substance, like it was somehow unable to reach.

Cue.

Cordelia closed her eyes tighter, refusing to let herself wobble as her mind searched for that stupid fucking door in her head. There had been thousands, millions of them- where was his.

Cue, I need you.

That bright, stinging sensation was back, worming up her chest in threads of panic and anxiety. The prologue of bitter tears threatened her throat, and she was forced to blink rapidly, turning her eyes back to the sky in some kind of desperate hope that Echo would come back, that she would be fine after all.

I can't lose you too.

"Cordelia!" The world barely registered in her head before she managed to turn, feeling that tense, scared feeling overwhelm her all over again. She had just been drugged, and then watched her friend turn into a fucking living firebomb of some kind. She couldn't do anything anymore.

But it wasn't a stranger at all. No, it wasn't even Asia who no doubt had now realized they'd gone missing.

"Cue." His name nearly bubbled out of her throat in a sob, as that rush of adrenaline vanished entirely, exhaustion flooding her senses. It only took him a moment to be right there, hard features softening as a calloused hand cupped her face, eyes searching her own. She nearly collapsed into him right then, but fought to stay on her feet as his other hand gently hovered over her arm to assure that if she did fall, he would catch her.

"What happened- What, are you okay?"

Cue didn't often sound worried, but the sudden concern made that stinging sensation rise all over again. Cordelia felt a tear or two slip out, down her cheeks as she shook her head quickly, biting her tongue to avoid any kind of sob from spilling over.

Cue's face shifted again, eyes darkening, "What happened?"

"I don't know." Cordelia feels her breath catch, some incoherent cry escaping her throat as she looks back at the sky, "Echo, she - she was on f-fire, she, she was trying to protect me, I don't know w-where she went..." It hurts, but not quite as much as the anxiety that suddenly shoots down her spine at Cue's response.

"Fuck." His eyes are still that dark, piercing color, but concern darts over them as he raises his hand to run it through his hair. "Fuck."

It doesn't take more than a breath of a moment for Cordelia to realize she's being picked up in his arms entirely, securing her before looking up at the sky, searching it the same way she had before.

His wings were out, broad and sporadic as they always were, scars casted in silver moonlight, spider-webbing across his wings. His back was obsessively scared, far more than the front of him. At least, based on what she was seeing. He was shirtless, and droplets of scattered water shook from his doused hair.

Fuck, was he in the shower?

Cordelia can't even voice the question before Cue launches himself into the sky, holding onto Cordelia tightly. The dizzying heat that had plastered her head from the concoction of whatever she'd been given felt like it was whisked away by the cold, calming air that darted over them and into the sky. Instinctually, she felt herself curl closer to him, the internalized fear that he might drop her ringing loud and clear,

She doesn't say a word, but it's almost as if Cue hears her anyway, his arms tightening for a brief second as he turns in a slow, wide circle, eyes darting over the blank skies. Cordelia watches his face scrunch up again, slow, burning dread sinking deep into her stomach like a rock as he sighs dejectedly.

"Shit."

"What do we do?" Her voice feels soft, but truthfully, Cordelia is scared, not just for Echo, but what might have come of her if Echo hadn't been there. If Echo hadn't done something to help her.

Cue doesn't respond for a moment, staring into the distance before shaking his head, and beginning to move back towards the town that Echo's home resided in. "She'll come home on her own accord."

"She won't-"

"No, Cordy, she won't die." Cue's voice is solemn, but at the very least it offers some semblance of comfort, if only a little. Cordelia's eyes trail to his wings, the slow, gentle movements as he hovers back down to where the stones meet the entrance of Echo's house. "Not from the fire, at least."

"What does that mean?"

"I've never seen her do black magic before, at least not the way you described." He doesn't set her down, and honestly, she really isn't complaining, even as she feels him shift her in his arms slightly to push open the door, walking into the familiar, now abandoned house. He's quiet for a brief second, looking around the house as if he half-expects her to be there. She's not, and wordlessly, he steps out the door to the island instead, fresh, tropical air flooding her nostrils.

"How did she do it then?"

"She's an echo, Cordelia." He blinked evenly, then began walking down the winding path of the forest back to her own home. "The moment she sees some kind of magic done, she can mimic it. It's her ability." He sighed, pausing momentarily on the trail. "The angel wings, the ones you saw before?" He waits for her assuring nod before he continues down the walkway, "They aren't her original wings, they're a copy of mine. Now that she's seen Cassian's wings, she'll be able to copy those too if she so wishes."

"Does that mean Asia has pheonix wings?"

"No." Cue shook his head, "She can only do the things she's seen before, so those wings, the fire ones, those are hers." He again slowed his steps upon reaching Cordelia's home. It was pretty, almost shaped like some old Victorian house, even if the inside was anything but old. "Echo's original wings are a phoenix's wings - or-" he paused, then shook his head as he again adjusted Cordelia in his arms, this time to where her legs wrapped around his waist instead, head buried into her shoulder as he pressed his hand to the door. The runes lit up in the center, glowing a deep, hazy red before it opened. "Don't you ever wonder where the legends of the firebird originated from?"

Oh.

Oh.

"Echo." Cordelia hardly whispers the word, but she doesn't need a response to reassure she's right in her inference. Gently, she feels Cue set her down on the couch in her home, briefly glancing out the bay window before looking back to her.

"I'm going to tell Cassian to go get Asia. I'm sure she's with Bryce still, probably worried out of their minds, and then I'll bring you something to eat, okay?"

She almost wants to fight him, but that small part of her, the part of her that just wants him to hold her again fights back, tearing apart any kind of articulate argument she might be able to manage. Instead, she nods, and Cue watches her for a moment, before vanishing out the door again.

He leaves it open this time, but Cordelia's eyes trail back down to her hand, back to where the ring that Cue gave her should have been.

It's gone.

Suddenly the tears burst from her eyes, and the squeezing sensation clutches around her heart as she pulls her knees to her chest. Cue gave her that ring, he bought it for her, and based off his reaction, it had cost more than some cheap costume jewelry. But Cordelia has never been a loud crier, it's just not in her nature, so she lets the tears fall silently, holding onto herself as if the only possible thing that is keeping her from breaking is exactly that.

How could she have failed everyone so quickly in one night?

Where had it all gone wrong?

It's my fault.

She shouldn't have yelled at Asia. Shouldn't have shoved her, shouldn't have dragged Echo away from the bar without at the very least telling someone, shouldn't have gone by herself after drinking too much. Shouldn't have let Echo fly away from her.

Shouldn't have fallen for Cue fucking Hathor.

It doesn't take long for Cue to be back, even if it feels like an eternity, but Cordelia can't manage to look up at him. She hears the soft clink of a plate against the table, and barely peaks over the valley in her knees to see Cue kneeling in front of her. "Cordelia-"

"I lost it."

"Lost what?"

"Your ring."

Cue's face shifts again, softening once more as he tilts his head at her, "Cordelia, it's not the end of the world." His voice is gentle, far softer than he nearly talked to anyone with, and certainly to her in front of the others. "I can get you a new one if that's really what's making you upset."

It's not.

Cordelia barely lifts her head, feeling tears sting down her chapped cheeks. "I was drugged."

Cue blinks again, staring at her almost blankly, like he doesn't know how to respond to that at all. Cordelia doesn't really blame him, but the moment she says the words, some deep, residual fear comes frothing over, eyes blurring all over again. 

"I was really s-scared." It's hard to choke out the words, and she knows that her pride will be screaming at her in the morning, but it doesn't matter right now. She is scared. For a lot of reasons.

Cue is silent for a beat, but at the very least he doesn't leave. When he does speak, it's in that same soft voice. "You should eat something, Cordy." She's about to protest when Cue speaks again, "Please."

Please.

"Okay." She watched him for a moment, eyes locking as that brazen feeling of fear begins to fade. "You should stay." Her breath feels caught all over again, but that raw desperation for safety forces her to add the word right back, "Please."

His features don't really shift, but something about the feeling does, and Cue nods slowly, reaching over and grasping her hand suddenly, holding it to his now covered chest. "Okay."

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

wyn !!

seventeenth chapter done !

this one i actually
am sorry about

..giggles in it's over
3k words </3