Coming Back [A ReyNico FanFic]

A Night Devoid of Stars

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Hey! Thank you so much for the 7k reads! I'm sorry I wasn't able to publish all the chapters yesterday, because for some reason my drafts got deleted. Have you ever experienced that? It. . . sucks. Thank the gods I have backed it up in my phone, but still, the one in my phone is the unrevised version. So I kinda suffered trying to remember how I edited the chapters. :(

Anyway, here it is now. And shout out to @ReynadiAngelo for making me so happy with her reading list's name. I was so flattered! You made my shipper heart super super giddy with joy. And did I mention how much I love your username? :)
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Reyna
Reyna felt herself spiraling out of the darkness, her skin numb with cold as if icy hands carried her and now pulled her out.

The stench of something burning hung in the air as she tumbled into something slightly smooth and moist. It crunched beneath her as she shifted, feeling it lodge in her wound, sticking, impaling.

The pain in her side intensified as she tried to roll face up, making her almost black out. She felt something hot ooze from her stab wound, and she felt weaker instantly. She gasped, which was like trying to inhale daggers, but she managed to force her eyelids to open.

Green. There was green everywhere. She was lying the grass. Pyramids made of cloth were erected every few feet or so. They looked like tents. She caught a flash of yellow and orange, then a whiff of smoke. There were voices, but they were muted and slow, like a distorted recording. Pairs of boots thundered towards her, and she vaguely felt hands on her face. But she couldn't count, couldn't make out anything clearly. Her senses were dull, there was only pain.

She extended her left hand, the hand Nico had been holding. She patted the grass, seeking him out, but she only touched something cold, small and glinting. A ring.

Nico wasn't there.

"Nico," she rasped, but her voice was so frail it's as if no sound escaped her mouth.

Reyna's mouth was dry, her lips cracking. It was cold, and her whole body was shivering but her forehead glistened with sweat. Her side exploded in pain again, but she couldn't cry out. Her chest and her stomach swelled as she inhaled sharply, and her broken ribs protested, so she closed her eyes.

The poison was traveling in her body, slowly taking over. Yes, Cara's knife was surely poisoned, and she couldn't stop it from spreading. It was impossible.

There were sounds of panic around her. Someone was crying. Someone was pressing on her wrist. Someone was lifting her off the grass, calling her name. . .

But she was falling, falling, falling. . . gone.

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Reyna's life was flashing in front of her.

She saw a graceful woman with long mahogany-colored hair carrying a baby wrapped in a bundle of gold cloth. The woman's brown eyes shone with pride as she handed the baby to a handsome Hispanic man.

"She will do great things, Julian," the woman said, reaching over to touch the baby's cheek. "She will someday be a wise leader, a queen. I will name her Reyna."

The scene shifted.

Reyna found herself watching a four-year-old girl huddled behind an old car, talking confidently to about a half dozen kids. The other kids were bigger and older than she was, but they were nodding vigorously to every word she was saying. Nobody argued. She was clearly the leader.

"On my count, we will throw these stones at the highest tower." The little girl motioned to the oldest establishment in the neighborhood, a four-storey villa. Then she pointed at another broke-down car at the far end of the cobblestone street. "And there, right behind that car, is where we hide when someone comes out."