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Nov 26, 2024 11:59:03 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2016 10:30:51 GMT
 —I was a dreamer born in a court of nightmares—The morn of Elira's birth, still bloody and bruised from a tight squeeze from a young womb, the matron at hand had clutched Elira's infantile frame and she had prayed; 'Let her be strong. Let her be sly. And let her be ugly.' Her mother, so beautiful in her youth of barely fifteen, had been thoroughly crushed under the hide boot of a High Warlock with a hunger for flesh and blood. And, as if hearing such advice, Elira followed in kind. She was sly, she was strong, and she was definitely ugly. A squashed nose on a pale, greyed face, haloed by a mass of corkscrew curls. She was nothing that her father coveted. A man of immense power and reach, he ruled over his Court of Nightmares, flanked by his many young wives, for in the Court of Nightmares a woman's job was simply to breed and no more.
Elira's mother was just one of many, a beautiful woman with a working womb, impregnated by the leading male and warlock, Aimeric. A grotesque man of no beauty, he wore a thick beard and a rotund middle like he wore his crown, with pride and greed. But, her mother, Anael, was not always a broken toy. She and her sister, Cateline, had come from old magic, the oldest among french nobility. They could have been queens, but instead their kingdom fell and they were sold as younglings to Aimeric, who watched them grow with a haunting hunger in his eyes. However, while he conquered both women, something he did not expect was both women to give birth to daughters, Elira and Natalia. And that those daughters would be just as formidable as their kingdom once was, if not more so, with their desire to burn him to the ground.
It was a youth of no reprieve, the land as unforgiving as its father, but Elira found solace in her soul sister, Natalia. They were bound in ways invisible to the naked eye, but they felt it deep in their bones. Felt it even more so when they were forced at just five and six to watch their mother's die as they were born, together. Throats cut at a gold plated alter, the blood - ruby red and steaming - collected in a chalice at the bottom, to be consumed in front of all by the father they were ordered to love. And so a hatred rooted itself in both, nurtured like a flame until ready for fruition.
And while Elira found invisibility in her ugly, her sister was never quite so fortunate. With frostbitten hair and snow-white skin, she was Elira's opposite in every way. Striking in her beauty, but that was not what afforded her the most attention. In fact, Natalia went searching for it, clawing at the ankles of every eye she caught. She was demonic and angelic all at once, and so she became the best cloak of invisibility Elira could have ever hoped for. Elira never felt quite as openly strong or as defiant as her sister, but perhaps that was because she never had to be. Not with Natalia offering her wing at every chance. She was older and therefore wiser, so ready to take on the world with teeth bared. Elira wanted to be her as much as she feared for her. And so, their youth's were vastly different. Natalia turning heads at every turn and Elira her diligent shadow. But all would change when both girls hit puberty.
At fourteen, Elira began to shift. Her sickly pallor began to bronze in the summer sun, her eyes lips puckering and reddening like fresh bitten flesh. And her frame, once skinny and jutting, lengthened and filled as if over night. She was beautiful, and that in itself was as frightening as death, as they were almost one and the same. And with her budding beauty, Natalia seemed to burn even brighter at her side, her fury becoming an almost insatiable thing. Elira knew what her beloved sister was doing, burning twice as bright to dampen the fire flickering under Elira's skin. She was at once thankful and furious. So noble, her sister, and yet so thoughtless. As the more attention drawn, the more desired she became.
Elira watched from her shadow as the men around them became hungrier and hungrier, their eyes alight with the challenge of a girl on fire. She was a game to be played, a sheet to be sullied, and Elira knew this as she shadowed her sister, sticking to her like sweat, clinging and cold. But, even she could not follow her sister at every turn and every once in a while, in a castle as vast and winding as their father's, even the girl perpetually lost could lose her other half.
@nat |
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Nov 26, 2024 11:59:03 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Jul 17, 2016 11:28:58 GMT
 —And so she cut out her heart & offered it as a sacrifice—Her father was mad. His reign ruled on the edge of madness and greatness. One could not exist without the other. He remained in power by taking the magic of those under his control, her mother included. Her beautiful, strong mother, whose sharp tongue earned her more bruises than any of his other wives. But she endured it, because in her period of darkness, Natalia had been her only light, her only hope. She had forgotten its existence, until a beautiful baby girl had graced her, and not a boy. No, not a boy to follow in his father's footsteps. But a breathtaking baby girl, born with snow-kissed hair and lightning in her soul.
And so, Natalia's mother, Cateline, hid herself and her daughter from Aimeric's wrath, until her moonlight hair began captivating everyone's attention. Soon after, Cateline's ancient and powerful magic thrummed quietly in Natalia's veins, but it did not go unnoticed by Aimeric. Even as she remained inseperable from Elira, from her sister, her best friend, it was Natalia who captured her father's attention. Noticing that familiar hum of power in his daughters, he murdered them for his own delight and purposes. At the age of six, Natalia did not cry or weep for her mother. Even as Elira silently mourned her mother, Natalia merely held her as a burning hatred grew and grew in her encased heart.
Without her mother no longer there to protect her as best as she could, Natalia was at the leisure of her father and everyone in the coven, in the Court of Nightmares. As her powers bloomed, she observed those training their magic, and then mimicked, mastering, teaching Elira alongside her. Whatever Natalia learned, she always taught Elira the same. She was her one solace in their court, their mothers no longer their to give them the love they now lacked in their childhoods. Their bond grew more and more, and as they matured, Natalia could not understand how magic could be given to a man like Aimeric, a man unworthy of nature's gifts. That ancient magic itched to be unleashed and the more she practiced with her sister, the more that power grew and grew.
Nat had learned from her mother, whom had allowed herself to be beat in every way possible if only to distract everyone from her ice-kissed daughter, and did the same with Elira. Already captivating everyone's attention with her looks, she burned herself brighter than Elira everyday, in order to keep her sister hidden in her shadows and away from prying eyes. It was only at night, in the few hours of sleep that Natalia allowed herself, did she show how exhausted she was, to burn with a ravenous fire. But puberty hit, and Elira became exquisite. It became more difficult to be Natalia's shadow, and so Natalia had to burn even brighter than before, to save her sister from prying eyes, from the abuse Natalia endured for her sister.
She herself became more impossibly beautiful than she already was and Natalia wore the mantel with a false pride, in order to keep the attention on herself. She mastered that famous serpentine smile of hers, once that either invited intrigue or fear in others. She became untouchable to many, for if anyone neared too close, she had a deadly bite. She worked relentlessly to remain that reputation, one who was untouchable, and therefore more desirable. She even began training with the men, if only to allow the groping long enough for them to keep away from Elira, and even endured beatings ordered by her father for doing something only warlocks were to learn. Natalia became Elira's protector, giving up her soul and body in order to protect her sister.
Natalia was well aware of what many wanted to do to her. Many wanted to bed her, if only to have a taste of the ice-kissed girl with thunder in her heart, with fire in her soul. And so eventually her life became a game of cat and mouse, provoking the men of her father's court, but never appeasing them. But despite all her snark and bite, even she couldn't foresee everything, nor could she defend herself at every breathing second. Rarely did she rest, did she truly relax. The only time she allowed herself a moment to rest her beaten down heart was when she escaped to the woods by the lake at night, sitting by the hidden spot her mother had taken her to often as a child. It was there where she allowed herself to ache for her mother's absence, to nurse her broken soul.
And it was in those private moments that she felt a hand clamp around her nose and mouth, a strange scent overwhelming her urges, one lulling her into a peaceful sleep. But then she saw her attacker's face and she remembered his face from her sparring. He had constantly groped her until Natalia beat him senseless, fists bloody and eyes wild. He had promised retribution, and now here he was fulfilling that promise. So Natalia refused to breath that strange herb, and unleashed her fury on him, going crazy as he attempted to pin her down. After their brutal dance, he managed to gain the upper hand and had her pinned. His face was scratched and bloody from where she had attacked, but alas he had the advantage of weight and body strength. As he hitched her dress up, his cold, meaty hands on her thights, rising dangerously, Natalia let out a hateful scream, doubtful that anyone would hear, but needing to unleash her hate in any way possible. And as she let out that agonizing scream, he clamped his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.
@elira |
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Nov 26, 2024 11:59:03 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Jul 18, 2016 20:19:35 GMT
—I was a dreamer born in a court of nightmares—For as long as Elira could remember, she felt tethered to Natalia. It was a living thing inside of her, different than the general magic that shone in her veins. This was less starlight and more flame. A gaseous ignition that she shared with none other than Natalia, connecting them. It is what set them apart from the rest of the court. The thing inside of them that while not visible to the naked eye, seemed to pulse at a different rate than their heartbeats. Less alive than it was laying in wait; dormant, like a predator. It is what triggered the hunger in her father's eyes, paired only with caution and perhaps fear. She knew it, Natalia knew it, but Elira had never quite embraced it like her sister. It felt volatile, a thing not controlled by spellwork and flights of fancy. It felt wild, and that was something Elira never was.
It was this connection, the tether between them that kept them so close, that alerted Elira the moment something was amiss. Not because she felt what her sister felt, but rather that she didn't. The connection seemed lost, dampened by something. It twinged in her chest and opened a pit in her stomach because whatever had caused this interruption, this alert, didn't seem like a welcome thing.
Elira had been before her seamstress when it had happened, the corset around her middle cinched tighter and tighter as the frail old woman's assistant poked and prodded Elira with pins. "You will look fine when I am through with you, jolie laide." The nickname was bitter on Elira's tongue, a term for the 'unconventionally pretty'. She had never been pretty, never wished to be, but it hurt nonetheless. The dress was red in colour, like fresh spilled blood and Elira found it unbearably ugly, like a fresh cut against her sun-kissed skin. As the seamstress sewed the least seam, she stood, pulling back the long brown curls that hung snarling around her heart-shaped face, caught in the gold headdress all First Daughters were required to wear before the woman pinned it in place. "So pretty. You will make a beautiful bride." And as if on cue Elira's stomach bottomed out, the constant light between herself and Natalia flaring before quietening in a chilling chain of events. Yanking herself free, Elira tore away from both seamstress and assistant, hopping down from the raised platform, a hand braced against her middle. "Natalia..." She found herself murmuring before she took off for the hallway, the seamstress screaming in strained french behind her.
Elira hiked the hem of her dress high enough to give her legs room to run, picking up pace within the dank stone corridors of the castle. She felt her breath come faster and faster as her heartbeat picked up pace. There was an urgency to her movements, a need to find find... save her sister.
"Natalia!" She found herself yelling, stopping in the courtyard to spin without rhyme or reason. She pressed against the pit in her stomach, drawing stares in her grand gown and panic. She took off in the direction of the woods, knowing that this was where Natalia usually took refuge on the off chance that they were not together. Her feet were bare and cut by the time she pushed beyond the woodland and towards the lake that cut the back of their land like a moat. And that is when she heard it, the scream, dampened by the rush of water and the press of a hand.
Breath harsh and lungs screaming, Elira moved swiftly through the underbrush, tears stinging her eyes as a call inside of her screamed in despair. So pretty was Natalia. So fine and alive like no other daughter the King had ever seeded. She was special. And men often coveted the unique.
At first sight one might think them in a lovers embrace. Natalia's hair like a mirror, reflecting sunlight, her clothes damp from lake water. The man that grasped her was much bigger, with skin tanned by prolonged exposure, a thick beard marring the sneer Elira knew he was wearing. He had Natalia clamped to his chest, slamming her against the compacted dirt of the lake's banks as he attempted to old her writhing form in one hand and disrobe with the other. Something thick and hateful quickly overcame Elira at the sight. A protective instinct she had not flexed for some time. Her jaw clenched, her hands formed fists and she ran for them both with a renewed fury, her exertion forgotten.
The attacker had only a moment to look up from his pursuit in time to catch Elira's flitting form before she launched herself onto his back. The seams of her pretty red dress tore as she hooked her legs under his ribs, heels digging into his rotund middle as her fingers clamped around his thick skull. Thumb behind his ears and fingers scraping at the skin of his cheeks and the meat of his eyes. All the while a feral scream tore from her throat as something ignited within her. Something old, something wild, something dark. Smoke seemed to ooze from Elira's pores, a thick, dark mist that drifted like fingers along the man's stretched flesh.
When the smoke made contact with the man's skin he seized, his helpless bucking halting all at once as the black smoke danced along the exposed flesh of his neck and arms. It was at once a part of Elira as it was separate, digging like needles into his skin, little pinpricks of blood welling up wherever it touched. And all the while Natalia lay trapped under him, his frame the only thing separating her from her sister. Elira's screech petered off, the tendons in her neck and arms standing on edge as she seemed to dig herself into the man's very person. Like a beast, it almost appeared as if she were feeding on him. Not his flesh, nor his blood, but his soul.
@nat |
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Nov 26, 2024 11:59:03 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Jul 19, 2016 6:04:29 GMT
—And so she cut out her heart & offered it as a sacrifice—"Shut your whore mouth, pretty vixen," he whispered in her ear, his hot breath by her ear making her shudder. She was repulsed at the site of him, but even more repulsed by her weakness. All her physical training for nothing, not when the attacker was twice her weight. Or her magic, when he, as a warlock, had better training than her. Something sinister lurked in her blood, hidden, dormant, waiting. But she still felt powerless now that her attacker had gotten the upper hand. He constantly groped her whenever she trained with the warlocks, proving herself with her wrath and quick thinking. And she had endured each touch by his clammy hands in order to keep his greedy eyes away from her sister.
She never allowed herself to probably mourn her mother, and she would not mourn her loss of dignity. Whatever happened now, she would kill him for this, and she will continue with her life. Her eyes held a deadly promise, one that ensured pain and torture in his near future. As he clamped his hands over her mouth, she bit his hand, enough to bite through the skin and meat of one of his fingers. Nat could taste the iron of his blood, his howls of pain sounding like music in her ears before he slapped her across the face, stars exploding across her eyesight. She felt his hand inch up more, going towards the inside of her thighs. Natalia bit her lip to keep from crying out, every sense of her body feeling vulnerable and violated. She tried kicking him away, punching, but he had her legs pinned underneath his weight.
In her moment of desperation, Nat tried calling out for her sister, but no longer felt the connection there, the one that felt like a reasurring hum in her heart. It was silent and she felt cold all over. Thus her place of refuge became one of dread, just as the rest of the court felt to her. The one good place and memory of her mother was now tainted. Natalia felt her heart breaking - not for the violation of her body, but for the erasure of something good in her life. And in that moment, she encased her heart in iron, in thorns, in hate.
She would be deemed unworthy afterward. She tried to focus on the fact that in the eyes of her society, she would not be worthy of marriage after this. And in her eyes, that was good. So she focused on that idea, needing to find the good in a revolting act. Nat thought of her mother, of her words, telling her to never show weakness. And so she wore the mantel of beauty and strength, encasing every inch of her body with her burning hatred, and never allowed herself to be weak.
"But can't I be sad or scared too?"
"Not in this place."
Natalia heeded her mother's words ever since. When her father glanced for too long her way, eyeing her either with fear or delight, she would sneer at him, always making a vulgar gesture. Gestures that would surely have gotten her killed if it weren't for her moonlight hair and otherwordly looks. And now those looks, that beauty she loathed was getting her violated. But she refused to cower at his touch. "Natalia." A whisper. Someone saying her name far away. Not someone, but Elira. But Nat couldn't tell if that was reality or merely her heart's desire. But the voice was at once the night and the dawn and the stars and the earth. Her sister, her salvation.
Neither of them saw the fury that was Elira as she attacked Natalia's attacker from behind. Suddenly Natalia felt like she could breath, his meaty hands away from her. Elira's yells was Natalia's siren call, and she laid pinned, clawing at the monster on top of her when she felt that same ignition in her, that darkness awaken, just as she felt the connection with her sister once again. It gave her goosebumps all through her body. She was still as she realized what was emitting from Elira, wrapping around her attacker like a warm blanket, only to draw blood with each top. He screamed from the sensation and Nat allowed herself a sadistic smile at his yells of pain. She reached to the smoke, somehow knowing it would not harm her as it was her attacker.
She felt the dormant, ancient magic breathe to life in her, aching to be released. And she impulsively reached her hands and rested them on each side of his head. At the contact, Nat suddenly felt all his fears and willed them to become true in his mind. He screamed louder, the physical and mental pain too much as Nat knew that she had just caused his worst fears to come to life in his mind. She had created her first illusion. The smoke tendrils continued wrapping around him, slicing his skin everywhere. His eyes began to bleed with both of their sinister magic at work, his own magic failing him.
And just as quickly, his screams died out, as his heart gave out. Natalia's heart was racing as she realized that she and her sister had committe their first act of murder together. His limp body fell towards her but Nat pushed him away with some effort, and at the hands of her sister, stood up, her dress now falling down to her ankles. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around her sister, grateful for her protection and aid, and also amazed by what their magic could do together. Magic that she had never witnessed before.
_@elira |
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Nov 26, 2024 11:59:03 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Jul 20, 2016 1:14:09 GMT
—I was a dreamer born in a court of nightmares—Nothing had felt as simultaneously intoxicating and overwhelming. Elira had never felt anything like it before. It drank from her and fed her all at once. Draining and replenishing, draining and replenishing. And all the while that thick, black smoke turned her skin from solid to ash, starting at her fingers and edging upwards toward her elbow and beyond. And yet, at the disintegration of her person, Elira felt no fear. A calm had overcome her the moment the mist had come to fruition. It greeted her like an old friend. And as she met her, she felt for the first time in her young life; complete.
Elira's eyes, wide and full of wonder, found Natalia's over the dying mans shoulder. And she was given the joy to watch the same happen to her sister. The way her pale, strong hands came up to rest above Elira's own. Locked in a meeting far behind physicality. Nothing as rudimentary as flesh and bone, no those parts rot and fade, this ran far deeper. A collective sentience. And Elira knew that it could only happen through death. Sacrifice was key, but nobody ever said it always had to be self sacrifice. And the ones who did were liars. The pig writhed once in their grip, dripping blood like molten tar but neither girl flinched or floundered.
When he was truly dead, and only then, did either girl relinquish their hold. Natalia pulled back in time to roll him off and away. And finally nothing sinister separated the sisters. Not flesh, not blood, nor hatred. Elira's emotions bubbled forth, an endless valley that filled her eyes with salt and trembled her chin and cheeks. She let her sister fold herself around her, a comfort and a thank you. Elira gripped her just as hard, chin pressed tight in the crook of her neck, eyes cinched closed. It was as if they were meeting for the first time, different in the way that they were not squabbling children that simply shared a father. No, this meeting ran deeper, a meeting of souls.
Wrapped together like fresh petals on a rose, both women seemed to float between reality and beyond, dancing in the folds of the worlds that captured the beauty of what lay inside them. It shone noticeably through each of their bodies. Through Elira's drew reflection, feeding on the light that spilled from Natalia's like golden ichor. They were at once two separate magnificent beings as they were one mighty and whole.
"Do you feel her?" Elira whispered into Natalia's skin, barely above a breath but she knew her sister could hear her. Either through word of mouth or mind. "I think it's Mother Nature." And she squeezed her sister ever tighter, as if she could escape inside the cage of her ribs and live there.
@nat |
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Nov 26, 2024 11:59:03 GMT
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Post by Deleted on Jul 20, 2016 21:12:46 GMT
—And so she cut out her heart & offered it as a sacrifice—Natalia couldn't explain exactly what she was feeling in the moment. For the first time, she felt alive. She felt like she could finally breathe after suffocating her entire life. She felt hope. And that was a dangerous thing, something she didn't want to feel, but with her sister there, with that same powerful magic drumming in their blood and linking them closer together, she couldn't help but feel they could escape this life, this monstrous court where fathers looked at their daughters as sexual beings, and women were considered breeders. It was a sick world, one Natalia needed to escape and save her sister from.
With the limp body beside them on the floor, Natalia felt nothing for him. Not remorse, not guilt, not even hatred. Just nothing. Because he had been nothing when he was alive, and now he was nothing in death. He would not be mourned or remembered. That was the sweetest revenge Natalia could have. It did nothing to her morale that she had just murdered a man with the help of her sister. But that man had no heart or soul, therefore he was not a man to be pitied. Natalia wrapped her arms around her sister, feeling the magic weaving within each other. At the touch, Nat could suddenly see and feel Elira's deepest fears, and with that same magic that had murdered her attacker, she wisped those nightmares and fears away. The same entity was in them, one being, separated into two different beings. For years she had done everything to save her sister from the perverse stares, the physical and sexual abuse, that she forgot she too could be saved by Elira.
It's not that Natalia thought her sister weak. On the contrary, she knew just how powerful and lethal her sister could be. But it was about preserving her sister from a life of needing to be lethal, of allowing her to remain a dreamer in a pitch black world. And so Natalia was a match ready to lit the world on fire if anyone dared harm her sister. What happened to her didn't matter as much as what happened to Elira. She would always do her best to protect herself, but she would go further and beyond to protect her kind sister. Natalia heard her sister's loud and clear, even if they were barely a whisper. It resonated clearly inside her. "We aren't alone then," Natalia added, knowing what her sister meant. She could feel Mother Nature's soft touch inside her, caressing her, veiling both sisters in a defensive circle. They had both just used magic unlike anyone had ever done before. Nat had only heard of such magic being used by her ancestors on her mother's side, magic that not even her mother or Elira's had been able to do.
That hope, that calm touch inside her, the feeling of safety in her sister's arms vanished when she heard the snap of a twig through the trees, and felt the numerous bodies appear in sight, her father and his guards suddenly standing there. Natalia detached herself from her sister and stood in front of her, never letting go of her sister's hand. Her stance was poised like a snake, ready to strike at any of them who dared touch her sister. And from behind came a small, petite woman who Nat recognized as Elira's seamstress. No longer did she have that clueless look to her, but one of pure malice. "You did good," Aimeric praised to the woman. Nat then understood that he had positioned her as a spy for Elira. And what Elira did, Nat did. It had been strategic to have her spy on Elira, for Nat never allowed anyone to dress her or do anything for her. "Run," she said to her sister.
@elira |
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