TURN BACK NOW IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE NEWEST EPISODE

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I’m Warning Ya!

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Last Chance!

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A Roar.

Yasha awoke…alone, surrounded with pillows in an empty cart. Snapping upright she looked around confused and realized that her surroundings were not that of cold stone, the muffled cries of pain and sickening laughter, but instead the calming presence of a snow draped forest, with only the wind and the soft murmuring of familiar voices to keep her company.

The last thing she remembered was…well pain, horrible searing pain. Yet as with every time the bastards she had tried and failed to fight off came for her, she remained silent. Refusing to give them any satisfaction, hoping quietly that the longer she held out the more punishment she’d levee on her and not her fellow captives. She had barely made out Fjord and Jester’s cries of protest, most of her focus, her burning, fiery focus on Lorenzo and his compatriots. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. Would. Die. She stated this silent mantra again and again, thinking of continually more gruesome ways of returning all the pain they sent against her. Lorenzo, who’s very presence set her blood boiling, Rizza with her cuttingly honeyed words, Protto…a sick little shit and that woman…who’d stolen her sword, she’d go first, followed by the others slowly, intimately one by one.

But now…she was free, and in the distance she could make out all of her friends, which meant…the bastards were dead. They had to be dead. Disappointment filled her for just a moment, before something flashed in the wintery grayness…that turned her blood cold.

She stepped off the cart, watching Jester place something on…on a grave with a single marker…with…with…no..this was a dream, a nightmare. Another cruel trick by Rizza.

She’d remembered being forced to sleep once more, a deep sleep filled with shouting, “Molly!” numerous voices had called out, fear and heartache erupting from them all. Flashes of her past had filled her dreams, dark, cruel memories…cut through every so often by voices, cries of pain and shouts of victory…

Beau shouting with all her might, “FUCK HIM UP!”

Then silence, and then someone breaking down in uncontrollable tears.

Then more silence, more blackness, interrupted by a familiar voice, drunk on pain. “Hell of a day.”

And now…the Mighty Nein turned to face her, Jester’s normally happy face marred by tears, Beau and Fjord staring at her in a mixture of pity and their own sadness, Caleb with Nott in his arms turning to face him his eyes somehow even more downcast than usual. Yasha barely notices the other individual despite how outstandingly garish he is…like Molly.

Yasha is so intent on the grave she barely hears Caleb’s words, “He tried, he tried so hard to get to your side, he tried very hard.”

“It happened again.” That’s all she can mumble as she collapses to the ground atop Molly’s grave.



“It’s chaos, be kind.” She suddenly remembers one of the first times they talked, or more truthfully Molly talking to Toya…explaining to her in his quite limited experience with the circus that life at times simply was just not fair.

“It’s chaos, be kind.”

Kindess did not come easy, forgiveness did not come easy, but grief, rage they came all the easier now. She feels tears beginning to track down her face, her whole body is shaking in grief and anger, so much that she barely register’s Jester and Beau at her side trying to comfort her.

In that moment…she snaps. Her wings unfurl, her vision goes black and she screams in defiance and fury at how the world continued to take from her. Had she not given enough?! Had she not fallen far enough?! Why take her best friend! Why take his brash confidence and absolute love of life?! What had he done to deserve this?! What had she done to deserve this?!



And in that moment of pure unyielding grief, she hears him.

“Come.”

And there in the sky, lightning flashes, thrice. Beckoning her once more down a lonely path.

And she doesn’t resist, how could she, he pulled her out of hell before…he can do it again.

“Yasha.” Beau and Jester call out to her, but she doesn’t look back, she can’t bare to see their faces. She can’t bare to look back. So she hold up a hand.

“I will find you when I’m ready.”

They say nothing, or if they do…she can not hear. The cold and snow envelopes her in a chilling embrace as she sets off alone. She walks for what feels like hours, alone with her thoughts and the distant sound of thunder.



There is an abrupt “Caw.” as a Raven, larger than she has ever seen alights in the trees before her, it sits there for but a moment before disappearing in a flurry of feathers, dropping something at her feet. Looking down she finds a silver moon…one of the baubles Molly wore on his horns. Bending down she gently picks up the pendant, affixes it as best she can above her heart and walks on, Black Wings racing towards the Heart of the Storm.

