4.13 Smoke

Author’s note:

Hi everyone, if you are one of the readers that joined me yesterday for Britechester After Dark, unfortunately this is not BAD chapter 1, but an update for my ongoing legacy story. For those not interested in reading both, here’s an easy way to tell the difference – my legacy story will usually not have any pictures / screenshots in the preview, and also have a number in front of the post title. Even if you decide not to read this post, I hope to see you again soon!

Now onto the story!


I opened my eyes, and regretted it immediately.

The shapes melted and reformed, continuously, endlessly. Even under my eyelids, in the complete darkness, they swirled and danced, like girls in ballet class, mocking me. Taunting me.

I may have slept forever, if it weren’t for Alistair waking me. He was still beside me, in a crouch I copied, moving steadily forward while muttering, “Come on, we’re almost there, we can do this, please, come on.” 

Why was the world so different from before? All had been good and safe when I had fallen asleep curled up next to Alistair. Now, I couldn’t stop coughing.


That’s what it was.

Licking its way up the pillars in search of more to consume.

And what of below? I imagined the flame brushing its fingers against the cherish words of my legacy. Erasing them forever. Tears sprang to my eyes, but that might have just been the fumes.

The fire roared so loud I never heard the pillar. I did feel it hit me though, smashing into my right side as I screamed- silently, or maybe not, it didn’t matter because no one heard- and then there was nothing but pain.

The pain was excruciating, then

just like that

it was gone, like it was nothing. 

In the darkness there was nothing but smoke.

Swirling and dancing.

Mocking me.

Taunting me.


between the swirls of smoke there was 

a surface.

There I was, existing on the surface which I think might have been a bed, listening to two voices. One was Aunt Vega. The other belonged to a man I couldn’t identify.

“I do not see any other options,” said the man.

“So you agree?” said Aunt Vega.

“Yes. Perhaps one day, it can be undone, but for now, this is the best way.”

“I will never feel good about doing this.”

“Nor will I. But I will take this secret to the grave.”

“Thank you, Edwin. You are a good friend.”

“Don’t thank me, Vega. I wish there was more I could do.”

There was a long pause. It was broken by the sound of a chair being pushed back followed by rustling of skirts as Aunt Vega stood up. “It’s decided, then.”

“Yes,” said the man. “I will go tell them. From this moment, Deneb Winter is dead.”

And that’s how I heard my own death declared.

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