It was why Elena embraced a mindset of eternal optimism. Things would always work out. One way or another. Crappy circumstances were always temporary. She could let them drown her. Rue the fate that had been set before her. Or she could persevere. Cling to the good around her and use it as leverage when the chance to change her situation finally presented itself.
It's what Aunt Kira would have done. Though maybe not as positively as Elena, considering Auntie was a bit of a grump.
Howls lifted into the air behind her. The sound primal, spurring Elena to move her legs faster.
Sorry, friend. Not today. Elena had a future to preserve.
"Stop her!"
There was a whistle as something cut through the air. A second later Elena's feet were swiped out from under her. She hit the ground with a muffled cry, barely noticing the pain along her left side as she twisted to glare at her feet.
Was that seriously a bolas they'd thrown at her?
The rope attached to a pair of rocks wrapped around her legs would suggest yes. It seemed a little low tech for a race that had nearly wiped out humanity, but okay.
The drones slowed. Their faces smug, thinking Elena was caught.
As scary as they were, it was the demon hobbling in their wake that truly struck fear into Elena’s heart. Something told her if he got a hold of her, forget the mercy of a quick death. He'd make it as painful as possible before sending her to her final rest.
Elena gave up the thought of undoing the bolas, knowing she didn't have time for that. They'd be on her before she could get even one foot free.
She flipped onto her stomach, using her bound legs to push herself forward as she clawed her way across the few feet separating her from the wall.
Please let this work.
"Stop her!" the demon screamed.
The drones, realizing their prey was getting away, dashed forward.
"Too late, suckers," Elena crowed, giving up on her army crawl and instead choosing to roll like an overstuffed burrito.
As the old proverb stated—if one could not run, make like an inchworm and squirm your way to victory.
Okay, no one said that, but after today, Elena was thinking they should.
In one last desperate bid, Elena lunged forward, falling through the wall and out the other side. She rolled, fetching to a stop in front of a pair of black, shiny boots.
The general from that first day looked down at Elena with an apathetic expression, greeting her arrival as just another event in a series of them.
It wasn't until he noted the mud and gunk covering her that a note of distaste appeared. "You survived. How surprising. Maybe you won’t be entirely useless after all."
Kira – The Wanderer
Scalding power encased Kira's body, surrounding her with blistering heat. It bathed her in life. Pleasure and pain twining together.
Kira embraced them, afraid that she'd drift away if she didn't hold tight. Disappear and fade into the ether.
Daughter of Roake.
Vaguely, Kira became cognizant of power that billowed around her, waxing and waning. Like the inhale and exhale of a giant set of lungs. It soaked into the pores of her skin. Tiny pin pricks of pain that invaded every inch of her body.
Kira twisted away from it. Or at least she tried, only to find her limbs wouldn't move. They were caught firm. Something trapping them as efficiently as chains.
Kira whined as the discomfort grew, eclipsing even her high threshold for pain.
Hush, child. You have damaged yourself. This will help.
Her eyes opened a crack. The opalescent coils of a lu-ong, a creature both feared and revered by the Tuann for its sacredness, wrapped over and around her. The nook it created was just large enough for her to rest without fear of being crushed.
