Unpredictable

Chapter 31--- Kafkaesque

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Kafkaesque (adj)

Meaning: marked by senseless, disorienting, often menacing complexity 

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<Lloyd's POV>

Something sharp flicked into my head the moment the laughter started. My throat makes a starting sound that stops short. I claw at my hair. 

You're lucky it's me and not Katara. Her anger can be explosive... if you'd escaped, who knows, she might have even burned down another one of your villages. 

What— who—-

Rose yells something, but it sounds like she's underwater. My eyes snap to her. 

No— don't move— you're hurt—-

The sharp thing digs farther into my brain and I yell. Rose won't stop yelling. 

Rose pushes herself off the wall, her face contorting as her back makes this awful squelching sound. She stumbles to me.

I grab her, my fingers clumsy and twitching. My head—

Rose snatches my cheeks. 

Then she's there, all over again, like the first day when I found out she was the White Rose. Time slows, the pain in my head dulls, and all I can do is take her in. 

White hair, honey skin, stars for eyes: Grief. Pain. Worry. Blame. Burden. 

The scar across her back is impossibly bright, dripping gold and red the same. Wound of soul and skin. Who hurt her? 

Rose snatches the comm out of my ear and shoves it in hers, leaving one honey-colored hand on my cheek. 

I can hear her now, but her voice is different. It fluctuates between its normal state and something that's deeper, not cut off, more real; and it's saying everything she would never tell, maybe not even to herself. 

"You've got to get here —This is my fault why did I ever— she can't take all of you at once but you've got to do it together —I can't let him forget me again that hurt too much— "

I lean into her touch. "Aw, Rosie, I won't forget you."

Famous last words! 

Except the voice is quieter now, background noise, like an angry mouse.

Rose jerks up, as if she's been electrified, grabs her head and falls back, dropping the comm link. 

Her hand leaves my face and the spell is broken.

She screams, clutching her head. I pounce onto her, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her close. More blood gets on my gi— practically every shanty scab on her back has been ripped off at this point— but I don't care about the fabric. 

I stumble out into the open, her in my arms, but our attacker is waiting by the entrance.
A woman in crocs holds a shepherd's cane inches away from my face. "I leave, for one hour, and everything goes to baloney! I hate Beloveds— when Katara finds out—-" 

I grab the hook of the cane and jerk the woman forward. I kick her stomach, breaking her hold on the cane. 

The woman glares at me. She clenches her hand. 

Rose wails, writhes, and warps up her back even further. I struggle to keep a good grip on her.
The woman picks herself up off the ground, fisted hand held high. "I'm a mind elemental, a Fay of the Legion, a trusted aid to the King. You can't fight me."