Anasthasia closed her eyes, and let the stream of consciousness take hold of her. She had long yearned to be in the enchanted forest once more. When her eyes dawned to a brand new era, the place, she trapped herself reeked of age. The dead willows swayed with silent rotting. The compost, organic smell rose in waves like a miasma. The orchestra of ravens had a birdsong that sent chills down to her spine.
Freidmirth had hovered from the damp yet miasmic place to an overarching greeneries. Her eyes widened by the spectacle. Even from the heights, the forest had beckoned into her very soul. It steeped in plushness and opulence.
As they reach down, it was just as she expected. Thin layers of mist caressed the lichen-encrusted bark had brush passed Anasthasia. The dew drops that dripped and with every strut cackled the leaves and splinters on the forest's floor.
It was already sunset, and the trees stood serenely, awash with a golden glow. Moss clasped its crusty exterior. Her hands caressed them softly, tingles in her fingers. Then by nighttime, her ears perked up at the rushing sound of a river. When trees parted her vision, she saw the metallic sheen of the water that reflected the moonlight. But no matter how she tried to remember, something clogged her mind.
'We can't think about him, not in the middle of that river!' she shook her head, muttered, 'Not on my thoughts, too!'
She opened her eyes. The softness and silvers still lingered in the memory of it. Now, she witnessed the once enchanted forest engulfed with a sea of flames; its brightness conquered the night. Flames never vanquished from their ruthless burns and, smoke continued to pile up the heavens.
Though Freidmirth never had such problems amidst the smoke, as with every beat of his wings, lashed out the phantasm gas out of his way and then landed with ease. He then slowly bent his limbs, those amber eyes scrutinized and let out a low growl.
"Those impaled bodies aren't simple." She nodded in his response. Landed with grace and sauntered towards the area filled with capricious spikes.
"Their audacity to pick on me," She squinted her eyes, grumbling "And to be able to get away with it, too."
Her eyes glowed with sinister intent. Despite how the protruding spikes impaled, no flesh had seen, and no dark crimson shade bloomed.
"Such lousy tricks!" Angrily, she snapped her fingers, and the spikes began to crumble. It then melded well to the ground, thus left the two inanimate figures on the ground. She reached her arm and noticed how their bodies slowly disintegrated, ashes scattered into the very thin air: nothing but pair of dolls on the ground.
"Puppets," Anasthasia muttered, then clicked her tongue, "It had reached to this extent, I'm impressed."
'So it has improved by leaps and bounds...' She flipped her hair and let the hair flutter on the wind, 'I have more or less get the gist of it. Whatever it is, I have solid intelligence of what is to come.' Then she picked the dolls up and went back to Freidmirth. He kept himself busy as he clanked the shimmering stone with its claws.
"Oh?" He let out a deep laugh with neck elevated at a certain angle, "You're done with your business?"
"Of course, there's no problem." She scrutinized the area, and her eyes gleamed with longing and forlorn. Her chest ached worse as more and more embers and cinders found, the ghastly wind that blew them.
'I brought this upon myself; I must return to what it was.' She flung her hands up the sky and released a cloud of icicle dust, which gradually absorbed the engulfing fires and excruciating heat. Then lowered herself, palms gently touched the ground, and shoot out the colorful energy. It spread so fast, and the darkness that painted the grown enliven into a fresh sprout of greens.
The place painted with scarlet and crimson has been overwhelmed by shades of blue, it sparkled and embraced the spectacle beginning of forest restoration.
'This should do—' Her head thumped hard, that she almost staggered from her position. She anchored her palm to the ground and took hold of herself. She whispered through grit teeth, "I'm sorry. I had to do this."
Freidmirth eyed her with skepticism; his snout wriggled from her actions, "Do you have to do that, though?"
"It's not much of a problem." Anasthasia giggled softly, "He's the happiest gentleman when it comes to this." She perched atop of Freidmirth and gently caressed his smooth black scales. She had no idea for how long she admired his intricate linings; then, a slow pat came his way.
"We ready to go?"
"Whenever you are, Fried!"
"I told you, it's not fried. Freid, Freid!" Freidmirth roared in disdain, but slowly released from his crouched position, and flapped his wings, "Hold on tight!"
Freid rose from the heights with every beat therein; strong and frigid winds not only mused their ears but also embraced them with nostalgia. For the rest of the flight, Anasthasia had never felt so free for the longest time. Eyes firmly shut and drifted to her memories.
***
"Edward, stop!" Anasthasia saw her arms dragged by his stern hand, their strides becoming hasty. She couldn't keep up with his pace that she begged, "Please, You're hurting me!"
He stopped midway because of which her face thumped in his lean back. His peculiar fragrance that clung to his black tuxedo assaulted her nose. She found herself drowned on the warm feeling that raced her heart. Her daze snapped when he turned around.
"I forbid you for using your prismatic powers from now on!"
"What do you mean?"
His forehead creased and contorted as he roared out, "Don't you ever try to hide it away from me!"
A lump grew in her throat as chills shivered down her spine, wondering what happened, "W—What do you mean—?"
He leaned closer, gaze glued to hers, "I know everything," Then averted, eyes clouded with sorrow as he muttered, "I saw everything..."
Electricity shot through her heart, her lips trembling ever so slightly to her suspicions. She did not yield to the thoughts.
"Tell me what you saw."
Edward inaudibly muttered, "Nevermind that, I can't lose you..." His hands firmly gripped her slender shoulders, but not enough to hurt her.
"What are you saying? I'm not going anywhere—"
"Tasha, please! Just don't do it!" His eyes now screamed in terror, he whispered in gritted teeth, "Or else, your life—"
***
"Snap out of it!" Freidmirth roared aloud, enough to compete for the buzzing winds, which had brought Anasthasia back to reality. Life was a jerk as Freidmirth plunge from the heights, as soon as she got back to her senses. She almost let go of his hold.
"What the heck were you doing?!" She screamed on top of her lungs, and nails clawed as she struggled to hold. Her vision near the dome of ice grew more extensive than ever.
"Then get a hold yourself, will you—?!"
"That's my line, you dimwit!"
Freidmirth let out a roar of laughter. Meanwhile, she was flustered, unable to refute further. His deep voice became the bane to her existence.
Anasthasia let out a sigh and immediately jumped off him without the need to wait for him to land. She grumpily trudged towards the dome of ice. Soon after, Freidmirth gracefully landed, then called out and laughed again.
However, she continued to ignore him. "To heck with it!" She shouted without turning her back, "Better stay there, you grown as—!"
"How could you be so mean?" Freidmirth whimpered softly.
She stopped her tracks, and turned around with such stare—if looks could kill, it would've been successful long ago, "Don't you dare start it with me."
But when the corners of her lips curved upward, this gave him a shudder.
'I won't give you my treasures!'
Thus stiffened the poor dragon's body; his amber eyes widened in stupefaction. He could only gulp hard from his advancement.
"Wrong move, Fried." She clicked her tongue, "Such wrong move—"
"No! Please forgive me!"
She huffed and crossed her arms, "Just shut up in there!" Then she turned around.
Anasthasia could hear all his cries and whimpers. Nevertheless, she rolled her eyes. When she got closer to the dome, the cold grew stronger. She touched its crystalline surface and warmed her hands. So warm enough to create a passage for her body. There she saw the twins, who seemed perfectly fine from their condition, as they tend to the Prince, who was in deep rest.
'Looks like the surgery went perfect!' She giggled in silence, as her golden eyes glanced at the newly dressed wounds of Michael.
"Lady Anasthasia, you're back!" Liam called out in glee; she nodded in return.
She drew a closer look and saw how his face contorted. She wondered, but shock overwhelmed her when he spoke softly.
"Tasha..."