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No, I'm not dead. No, Blood And Water isn't dead, either. Just hammered out something that's been in my head for a while, and should tie together the main series, what's still to come, and the one-off piece from FCMTS 2014. I hope you enjoy, and sorry for the absence; I promise I'm staying very busy!

• Master Meridian

Blood And Water Mini

Chrysalis

Darkness. Darkness fore and aft, and to either side. Deacon frowned, peering through the shadows as the fox lifted a paw before him. Arcane flame flickered to life in his grip, casting its light all around.

The light touched nothing. It could not pierce the shadows that wrapped around from all sides. His frown deepened as he reached deeper, seeking that magical flame that burned within him and amplified the fireball in his grasp. It surged with new power, turning from a brilliant orange into an angry red.

And yet still the darkness would not be illuminated. Frustration took a hold of Deacon and twisted his guts even as his muzzle curled into a snarl. It held for only a second before he felt his other paw wrapped up by another's. The touch was cool, webbed and gentle.

He didn't want to turn; didn't want to see. Deacon couldn't help himself. His head twisted to the side even as he whimpered his protest. He tried to shut his eyes, or fold his ears down, or raise a hand to block the sight, but it was beyond him. His hackles bristled as Bain came into view.

The otter should be dead. He had to have been dead. Dull, glassy eyes stared back at him as blood trickled from a thick, deep gash in his forehead. His jaw was split as if cleft by sword stroke. His fur was bare, brown streaked with red from a multitude of wounds or spotted with black from burns.

No sound came from his muzzle, and the touch of his paw on Deacon's was as soft as it ever had been. There was no regret. No remorse. No blame. The only pain surged from within Deacon himself. Bain was outside it. Beyond it.

That was the worst part.

The howl came, as it ever did, as that pain took a deeper hold. Flame from his paw shot up his arm as thunder clapped overhead. Bain's paw tightened its hold on his even as blood oozed into one of his eyes. "No..." he whispered through broken lips, his voice a shadow of what it had once been.

Electricity surged through Deacon. It wrapped around him from the tips of his ears to the claws on his toes. It seared every nerve and burned every vein from the inside out. Light streamed from his eyes and muzzle as he tilted them skyward, and they were met with an intense, violent bolt of lightning from deep in the darkness. Still it would not light.

The pain faded. Something else; something new sat in its place. Acceptance. Knowledge. Understanding. They were joined by the others. Regret. Hate. Loss. Sadness. Energy filled him even as he stared into the otter's cold, lifeless eyes. How was he not engulfed by the fire and lightning?

The question ceased to matter as that fire and lightning ruptured; a violet explosion that blasted outward. Bain was gone in an instant. The otter's body melted in the force of the blast, swept clean by Deacon's power. Not even bones were left as Deacon's fur began to burn, ignited from within. His flesh followed. For one moment he was still himself, and he began to scream as he melted.

Then, from within, came the swipe of claws. New fur - clean fur - broke through the mess that had once been and sloughed off the liquid Deacon. Its owner tilted his muzzle to the darkness and roared his defiance, born anew through-

Deacon snapped awake with a gasp.

He panted heavily as he stared into the darkness all around him. In a moment, he'd lifted his paw before his face and brought to life a small ball of flame. For a second his powers seemed to fail him, before the firelight shimmered into existence.

It lit the small glade around him as he glanced this way and that, desperately seeking out a threat. There was none to find. None that he could detect, at any rate.

Still, his heart would not still. A glance to the side showed Bain's sleeping roll. Empty. Through the haze of sudden wakefulness, he could remember. The otter had left on his instruction, to seek out something. Something to help him sleep.

Deacon breathed a sigh as he remembered at last, forcing himself to slow his breathing. That was it. He'd sent Bain to the nearest village to procure alhiin root. He was due back late in the morning. He wasn't there just yet. He was gone. He was safe.

The fox ran a paw up through his head fur and across one ear as the other pinned back. His hackles, still bristled from the nightmare, refused to settle even when he ran that paw down the back of his neck and snuffed the flames in the other. Well, so much for sleep.

He pitched forward slowly and sank his face into both paws as he heaved a sigh. Three months. No more than three months since Oswell's death, and still he was haunted by what his father - no, his creator­ - had put him through. What he'd almost turned Deacon into.

A chill wound its way down the magi's spine as he rubbed at his eyes and forced himself to lay back again and listen to the sounds of the glade at night. The nightmares were something new. Something different. They felt real. Deacon could remember the coldness of Bain's tender touch. The heat of Oswell's electricity within him. He could feel himself melting away, as if it-

He shook his head firmly to clear it of the memories. No. Dwelling on it wouldn't help him. It wouldn't make him feel any better. It wouldn't help him parse the dream's meaning, and there was no one who had the combination of expertise and trustworthiness to discuss it with. All he could do was sit back, try to rest, and hope that Bain hadn't noticed how exhausted he was becoming.

As he laid back though, he couldn't quite bring himself to close his eyes. They stayed open, almost afraid to blink, as if the slightest twitch might send him back into the nightmare again. The moon rose as a crescent high into the sky as Deacon watched it, unable to stop the shivers that ran through his body.

And, just as it always did, that familiar, dreamlike pain started to twist deep in his guts again.