Community writing game

While Lylona struggled, Lerajie felt his lost love's release. Lylona, the only woman his heart could ever care for. He felt her, as he did every hundred years, and spoke her name upon the wind, hoping it would convey his message. He was here, he was waiting for her, he would always wait for her.

Lylona saw, to her surprise, a vital ingredient that she knew would aid her escape and she would have to mix it carefully under the watchful eye of Moonstripe. She gathered the vials of different coloured liquids and powders. Her slender fingers worked swiftly and skillfully. She took a flame and would in two small beakers create a potion so vital and so powerful that neither the chains or Moonstripe could stop her.

"The chains stay," Moonstripe replied and dragged Lylona to a wooden table at the edge of his hole.

He threw her towards the table as if she was a plastic doll, a piece of garbage. Lylona lost her footing and slammed on the table, almost knocking it over, but she knew better than to complain. She squeezed her teeth together and held back any sounds of pain.

"Can you find Blakfur?"

"My king, you know as well as I do, the curse keeps Blakfur hidden from all magic."

"What about the other form, her, can you find her?" the King replied.

"Is it that time already? Has one hundred years gone past?" Lylona was more furious than ever, but her expression and tone of voice never changed. She never showed the king her fury, not while tied with those chains.

"Can you find her or not?" Moonstripe replied, yanking the chains around her neck.

Lylona turned to the wooden table and quietly started mixing ingredients in a bowl.