Board Thread:Short Stories and Fanfictions/@comment-2601:647:4000:5CE0:AC31:BC7E:22A3:ABCB-20191122034325/@comment-2601:647:4000:5CE0:CC1C:3BDC:DA14:4DE8-20191204023803

Chapter 5 ......................................................................................................................

"SOPHIE!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Soph?"

"Miss Foster?"

"Sophie!"

"If you won't wake up for us, wake up for Keefe."

Keefe?

Who was Keefe?

But then something seemed to surface.

A memory.

Of a boy.

With ice blue eyes.

Tousled blonde hair.

Infamous smirk.

Love of... pranks?

But that was a shell.

Just a coating.

An empty case.

Encasing the scared, angry boy inside.

Cold.

Frightened.

Terrified.

Scared.

Who needed her to come back.

So she would.

But the voices were no help.

Wouldn't snap her out of it.

Too sharp.

Too painful.

So she just focused on Keefe and tugged on the warmth the words brought, until they finally scooped her up and carried her away and up to the surface.

Sophie burst out gasping as her lungs started to move faster, and her heart started to beat hurridly. She gulped in breaths as she jolted up into a vertical position. Familiar faces surrounded her, but Elwin looked the most worried as he offered her some Youth. And Biana threw her arms around her. Sophie tried to hug all her friends at once, seeing their arms were all wrapped around hers, but then she yanked back and gasped.

Her hands were covered in gold veins.

From the wrist to the tips of her fingers.

"What's wrong with them?" Sophie asked, shaking them furiously.

"I've hailed Bronte. Surely he will know," Mr. Forkle soothed, patting her back. "I'm sure it's-"

"No reason to worry, yeah, yeah. I've heard it a million times."

"Reason to worry about what?" Councillor Bronte strode in, and all her friends scrambled back as Sophie showed him her hands. Bronte paled significantly. "You're serious? All right. Now, everyone look at your hands."

Everyone did.

"Hmm, nothing? I assumed it would be one of you... oh, no. It's that boy." Bronte rushed to Keefe's side, holding up his wrists.

"Why does everyone call him That Boy?" Sophie complained as she stumbled out of her bed to examine Keefe's hands.

They were glowing, and covered in veins like hers.

Except his were silver.

And dark, rich purple.

"What happened to him? WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?" Sophie yelled, feeling her chest tighten. She heaved in some breaths. "What's wrong with our hands?"

"I don't know, but I think I do," Bronte replied, whispering some names into his imparter.

Moments later, Councillor Oraile showed up. As much as Sophie was miserable to see her least favorite Councillor, she perked up to see the black haired regal elf stride in behind her.

"Rayana?" Sophie asked. "She's from the memory, right?"

Councillor Oraile nodded, squeezing her friend's hand. "We've come because..." she pressed to Bronte. The pointy-eared Councillor looked a little hesitant, before he took Oraile's hand and yanked her glove off. Underneath was smooth skin. Then Bronte pinched her skin and yanked, and hard. Oraile flinched and everyone held their breath as that came off, too.

Underneath was...

Still skin.

Yet it was covered in golden veins.

And when he did the same to Rayana, her hands were revealed as well- except she had silver and purple veins.

Just.

Like.

Keefe.

Everyone gasped again, including Mr. Forkle.

"You too?" Sophie asked, showing her hands, and then lifting up Keefe's wrists.

Both female elves sucked in a breath. "I remember now. It seems to just trigger!" Oraile said breathlessly. "It's some sort of link between us. And I've never told anyone except Rayana this... but..." She snapped her fingers.

Golden, glowing, liquid light began pouring out of her hands.

Rayana did the same, except the liquid pouring out was silver and purple.

Liquid.

Colors.

The colors were so bright, flaring before her eyes.

But she could deal with that.

And it was such a breakthrough...

So it was good, right?

Right?

Right?

Or not?

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