#my sould is shattered. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mommyofkittens · 1 year ago

Text

A Court of Fallen Heroes: Chapter 6 - Decisions. Part I.

An arabic quote I read months ago that stick with me so far said: " Some say its painful to forget someone, other say it's painful to wait for someone. But I say, the worst pain comes when you don't know wheather to wait or forget. "

It made my body tremble with an unsettling feeling of chaos. My life was an untamed, catastrophic tornado since my parents threw me out of their house and suddenly, the situation went from bad to deadly when I got thrown here. It felt like I had a personal vendetta with life and the universal powers that controled us.

I've been here, with Niven's family, for almost two weeks now, working and trying to be useful. Half of what i promised myself to wait before I find the courage to kill myself. Not much changed, I just grew used to the wound I had in my sould. I had no new horizon, no signs from the deity that brought me here, no shooting star to make a wish upon. Nothing. Only my pathetic body to count on.

My old lifestyle was just a reminder of what I never cherished when I had the time.

So I took what I had at this moment, considered the time I had left as well, and made the best of it so far.

Every morning I woke up around 5 a.m., disturbed by my dreams. The potion Nimue gave me helped me grab with force some shattered pieces of my previous mind. I can remember faces better, my old university and one single name: Nadia. The girl I talked lastly on the phone before I got pushed here.

Altough the medicine had some good parts, it had repercusions as well. While I gained more knowledge about my past, I forgot other dear to my heart details: my father's eyes, my mother's voice, the smell of my cat's hair.

There were moments of clearence, when I watched the crystal empire of the skies and a fugitive image of my dad's irises runned through my head. Other times, I listened to Cynthia's soft voice while she hummed a sad rythm, and tears stung my eyes as I recalled my mom. When Misty was around and climbed on my dress to find her spot next to my chest, underneath my clothes so she could get warm, I used to sniff her furr and close my eyes so I can picture Icarus's joyful personality. I grabbed with my nails whatever small detail mended my bloodied heart.

But those where passing moments, fast as time itself and they were rare and prone to be forgotten easily.

Sometimes I even had this feeling that maybe I can't go back because my life there was finished. I had no purpose anymore, nothing to give and nothing to receive. Other times, I hopped I was more useful here, working for money, feeding the animals, helping the people from Thaibar as best as I could.

But feeding the pigs and cleaning Nimue's desk wasn't something I felt blessed about, either. I wanted more. It was hard to believe that everything was a damn coincidence. I fell into a book, for god's sake, one full of magic, of adventure, of wars and a little romance. I had to do something for this universe.

I bought some other clothes as well, at Nimue's request to stop looking like a homeless cowgirl, and learned to style my hair in braided buns, so I could hide its colour better from curious eyes. Everyone warned me about my looks several times, and I grew a little conscious about my complexion. Not to mention the three rosy digits, forever imprinted on my cheek. A parting gift from the sly deity that sent me here. Even with several hours of working under the sun, my pale skin refused to get darker and I received only red spots of sunburn. Nimue offered me a potion to darken my wine tinted hair, so I could go unnoticed by the palace servants and mythical creatures who roamed the forests.

To no avail. The red dye was hardly getting replaced by the jet black one. The change would last until the next time I washed, when my hair would reject the color, bringing back its shiny burgundy. It was like he had a mind of himself. Not to mention the fact that it seemed to grow with the same color, not my natural chocolate brown. So we all grew use to it and I learned to put a handkerchief around it.

I started to help Cynthia around the farm every morning. Sometimes I cleaned the kitchen, other times we washed clothes by the river and chatted, like mother and daughter. I started to deeply care for her. I felt like she filled a part of my mother's empty space with her peacefull presence. She wasn't her, but it helped me ease my pain, little by little. She taught me some of their traditional dishes: fried venison, lamb soup, pork sauce with mushrooms, bread.

I even got the courage once and described her the person I was in love with. Of course, masculinizing her, and she laughed at me and advised me on how I shouldn't jump at every flower he brings me. That I should have my nose high and let myself be chased, to test his patience.

" A man who desires you should leave everything behind and follow you like the light of his eyes. He should kneel only to you, pray to you like you were his saint, his goddess. Never settle for less, or you will have a miserable life ahead. "

I would listen carefully to her words. I was still a newborn in this world, basically, and I craved every piece of instruction so I can learn to manage. I wasn't going to tell her that I knew everything she told me. I learned enough from my mother's miserable marriage.

We got along good, but from time to time, a dark cloud covered her eyes and she would watch me and ugly cry, without saying another word. Her face would distort in a silent plea and she would shiver violently, like the cold claws of death sank under her skin, dragging her to the Underworld.

We were alone when that happened, and I didn't know how to react so I hugged her through her episode and whispered that I will be by her side, no matter what. Cynthia would sob heavily, making my body tremble as well, and she would clutch my arms like she was about to drown in her sorrow. It worked, rarely, but when her mind was too absorbed by her thoughts she whimpered like a baby:

" I won't be here anymore... You'll have to carry yourself without me. I am so sorry... I beg you... Please give me your forgiveness... "

" I trust him... That man tied to you by the tongue of Death... Trust him... I promise you... Don't run from him anymore... He is your fire, that man surrounded by darkness... "

Then her vision would clear and ask me what happened, with no memory of what she said. I never told her either. She seemed quite unstable and I was afraid I'll make her sadder than she already was. So, I always resumed in only cleaning her face from tears with my blouse, smiling as sweetly as I could. I lied to her multiple times, but she disturbed me with her words and I always tried to forget so I could move on with my task: searching for a way home.

Only I knew what lied in my heart every time I heard that. It made me wonder if my crashing here was actually meant to be. If I had a role. Nobody told me anything, but I never had the courage to ask, either.

The worst part was that I started to love them, slowly, surely. They all were dear to me and I tried my best to thank their kindness by sharing my hardly earned golden coins, buying dresses and shoes, flowers for Cynthia and even cheap jewelery, like an iron sun I gifted Niven a few days ago.

Even Shum and I got along. Some days better than others. We wouldn't talk much, but every small conversation was polite and innofensive. He let me take care of the mare, and it was more than enough to burry the hatcher of war. But even with his nice behaviour, I felt him off.

I was always super sensitive to people's energy, I could feel their emotions, I could read them fast. Back home I used this gift to learn and read tarot cards for me and for my closest people. I felt like my intuition was helping me guide the reading session. It seemed to work.

Instead, here, my higher self was always alert every time Shum made a move. He seemed to focus all of his attention on me, as if he tried to combust me with his gaze. I often felt his presence close behind me when I went to work. I didn't know what he planned, but I knew it wasn't pretty.

The horse felt better and better. She could stand on her own and ate more than any other from the stall. Her black hair was always shinny and her growing muscles were visible under her dark skin. I treated her eczema and her external and internal parasites with several creams and herbal remedies. I washed her properly from time to time to keep any mosquitos away from her other healing wounds on her hooves.

The stallion became sweeter, playful even and when Shum gave me his permission, I went with her on walks around the fields, holding tightly her ropes. She loved to be kissed by the sun, she loved to feel the grass and smell the sprouting linden trees. As time passed, I started to love her like she was my adoptive child. I could always hear her gretting when she saw me opening the door every morning, with a bucket of food for her. The mare would let her massive head down, waiting for me to kiss her nose and brush her long hair. Misty would follow us like a faithful guardian, jumping on the horse's back when mud stained her silver furr on our walks or watching me as I cleaned the mare.

I usually kept long conversations with them, and when we were alone, several miles away from the farm, I told them all the stories I remembered from my past life. Sometimes I would cry, as I felt the stallion's merciful brown eyes on me, like she could understand me and pitied me for my suffering. The cat would climb onto my lap and catch my tears from my face, silently acknowledging my fears.

Niven became my sister quite fast. She would gossip about everyone in town, about whatever her family did that annoyed her, about her past boyfriends and how they had no idea to please her. I would cringe and laugh, telling her about the memories I had, adapting them to this world. She was gracious, pure-hearted and such a good soul. Sometimes, her desire to help every lost spirit made me worry for her safety. I became attached to her more than anyone else, loving her like she was my family. I was around her equally as much as I was in Nimue's shop, preparing medicine.

Once, when I hugged her, I remembered she resembled one of my dearest cousins from my old world. I knew her name on an instant, Claudia. They had the same dark looks and pale skin. I clutched her to my heart even tighter, fealing a piece of relief in my chest.

I wondered why I still didn't have the courage to ask her about a library, to tell her my story, how I got here. I wanted to know more about the world beyond the ocean, about Prythian, about the seasonal courts and their High Lords. Maybe that way I could figure out the time inside the plot I fell into. But it was never the right moment and I was always so afraid of being rejected.

Aoife was like the younger sister of Niven and I. We would always meet in Thaibar when I got myself a pause from Nimue and visited her store. We would talk about her family, about how her mother's situation was getting worse. I asked her to bring me to her once, so I can consult her, see if I can give her any medicine without making Aoife pay for anything.

I knew she lived in a less than modest inn and that she was the only provider. Their living space was tidy and smelled like fresh dandelions, but it could trigger claustrophobia for the ones faint of heart. Even so, there was enough space for a chamber with two beds, the main room was also the kitchen and the place where they would bath. I laid my bag on the rusty table next to the simple clay vase filled with fresh flowers. There were three chairs, covered with a brown sheet so it could cover the cracks. Her windows where half painted with something that looked like glue, a pair of worn out red curtains covering them.

Her mother's illness, Lydia, was quite advanced. She would be delusional most of the time, talking nonsens and walking naked around the house. When she first saw me, she bowed deeply, her forehead touching the ground and chanted a prayer like an obedient nun.

It took me by surprise, even if Aoife warned me about what I was about to encounter. I blinked a couple of time, shaking the surprised figure off of my face and I smiled swiftly.

" Like mother, like daughter. " I complimented, searching her blonde locks and deep blue eyes.

The girl was a devoted image of her mother. Both small, with a slender figure and elegant features.

Aoife approved with a tiny gesture, her heart-shaped face holding a sad mine as she watched her mother's sanity drifting between her fingers. After I asked a couple of questions and examined the woman myself, I had a strong feeling she dealt with what I used to call in my old world: schizophrenia.

I would have said that maybe dementia or alzheimer could be involved as well, but it was not only a short term memory loss. Her odd way of acting, how she saw things, how she spoke to someone who was not in the room, all of these were more common for this type of mentall illness rather than anything else.

Her mother was not with us anymore. She was lost in her own world and only a miracole could help her.

" I'm afraid her mentallity is trapped inside it's own. " I explain, taking an elegant shaped bottle from my brown bag, " Pulling her outside of the dimension she made to protect herself might be dangerous for more than one reason. "

" Can you be more specific? " Aoife pleased, placing her small and slim fingers on the table. " I know she's crazy, if your words are just a sophisticated way of saying it. I need to know if there's something I can do to either ease her pain or heal her. "

She had been working at her flower shop and cleaned in a hurry when I came. Her wrists and nails were stained with mud and bits of grass and she radiated earthly tones of perfume, mixed with chrysanthemum.

" I'm afraid she has no sense of pain anymore. " Speaking, I sting her mother's bare foot in several places, watching as her lost expresion never falters. " Her illness might be a protective mechanism against a traumatic event. Did she experince something like that? Do you remember? "

The woman smiled at us, wide, crystal blue eyes piercing us both, like she saw something floating around. " There is so much gold! I want that in my pockets! Oh and those tongues of Death!... " Lydia rocked her thin body from side to side, laughing like a naughty teenager. Her clothes were disheveled and a few sizes too big for her sudden lost of weight.

" I have no idea... " Aoife frowned, examining her mother causciously. " She was like this before my father left us. The only people that know are probably Niven's father or Nimue, as she was the one to tend to her. "

Ah, great, so no one I could ask.

" Alright, I'll see what I can find out and depending on that... Maybe we can find a way to help her. "

The blonde laughed soflty, brushing a tear that escaped from her peacefull eyes and embraced me. " That will be wonderfull. Even if you don't find a solution, only the fact that you were willing to help means so much to me. "

I smiled, holding her shoulders in my hands. A sudden thought passed my mind: I used to hold my lover like this before.

I broke the hug, like her skin burned my hands and rushed to give her the bottle. " When she starts having her episodes, pour a few drops in a glass, enough to fill the bottom, then water. It will calm her and she'll sleep soundly. "

" Thank you, again! "

Something caught our attention outside and we stilled in the position. The noise made by a large crowd seemed to grow bigger and louder as they aproached the door to Aoife's place. It seemed like a revolution started on the streets and they wanted to burn all the houses.

A few expresions passed our faces as we tried to decide what to do.

In my humble opinion, I had no idea what a noisy crowd could mean here. In my dimension, this was either a protest or a wedding. Here, maybe someone sold his daughter and was throwing golden coins or someone was getting hanged publicly. Two different ideas I gathered from two different shows: Game of Thrones and Outlander. And francly, both of them had too much sexual assault for me to stomach.

With a growing fear inside my bones, I tried to decide if I should be the one to check or let Aoife be the bait. I studied her for a few seconds, taking in her tiny silhouette and angelic features, just two of the reasons someone would jump her with no remorse.

It wouldn't be fair to her. It was her world and I had a dying wish. And between the two of us, I was the one with a scar on my face. I was the one to check.

I put my index on my lips, gesturing to remain silent and I moved closer to the window curtains.

Lydia started to clap and laugh. " Mother, please. " Aoife asked, grabbing her from the bed and trying to hide her in another room.

Peeking slowly over the glue paint, I only saw the streets swallowed by men and women, pleading and cheering. Colors of brown and black blocked my view, like a plague covering Thaibar. It seemed like a funeral. The image of that old man being beaten to death by the guards appeared before my eyes, the hollow and sick looks the people gave him as he drew his last breath before me.

" I don't think it's safe. " I announce and must the courage to open the creaking door just enough to throw an eye outside.

Aoife comes to my side and studies the events from the town.

" A royal parade? " She questiones, both in awe and horror, pushing past me.

A royal what?

Several dark knights walked proudly through the corridor made of people, sharp swords on their backs and the royal emblema shinning on their iron shoulders. They looked terrifying in their black costumes, with their face covered, spreading a smell of death and blood in the air. Some of them had arrows as weapons and I couldn't help but wonder if it was the famous ash wood that poisoned their edge. Their horses seemed as dangerous as they were, with red pupils and dressed in heavy armours. They seemed wild and aggressive, their galop loud and synchronised.

" I don't think it's wise to get out. " I whisper, trying to grip her arm and pull her back inside

The same hole digged between my lungs as my fingers roamed in the air, unable to find her in time.

" Who's that? " Aoife asked again, standing on her toes to see over the peasant's head. " I have never seen him inside the palace. "

As I stepped next to her, I locked our hands together. Alarmed, I studied the people passing, overwhelmed by the loud shouts and the amount of information coming my way. My intuition told me to run far away from that demonstration of power, but the blondie's feet were deeply rooted inside the earth.

The first one I saw was the new king. Or at least, the one I suspected to be, thanks to the massive, golden crown engulfing his chestnut locks. His sharp face held a machiavelic expression, filled with victory and superiority. The man's trimmed beard and moustache was perfectly alligned with his high cheeckbones and black eyebrows. I felt like his beauty was speckled by harshly cut features: small eyes, straight eyebrows, angular mouth and a square chin.

He didn't wear any armour, only a fine tailored brown and gold suit that matched his tanned complexion. It looked like a cheap version of the High Fae's.

" Is that the king? " I whisper in Aoife's ear and she approves, ducking her head so she wouldn't be seen by him. Her eyes remained locked on the stranger that followed close behind the crowned man.

I raised my head and something inside me stirres. Red alarms rang inside my brain while I try to get a grip of my balls before I faint. It was like a deja-vu, eerie and unbelievable. I knew this man or... I felt like I knew him.

The first thing I noticed over the sea of humans was red, a natural dark red, slightly auburn when the few sun rays hit his hair. It was kept at the back of his neck, leaving the long strands to carress his round shoulders. His face was long and arrogant, slightly ducked, so he could see every dirty peasant who asked for a few coins. Moving slowly, he dug his left hand inside his horse's bag and threw a fistfull of money in the air. His thin eyebrows frowned at the disgusting image of humans searching the mud.

He was noble as well and the colours of his tailored jacket were more than enough to guess who he was. This, and the grey morality of the character visible even now, by visiting Hybern. Green and orange, embroided with heavy, shinny buttons. He must be Eris Vanserra, the heir of the Autumn Court.

I swallowed and checked the dark handkerchief around my head. What should I do? He might be my ticket to Prythian, to my possible salvation. But how the fuck would I get close to him with so many guards and the high chances of getting fried by his powers. I wasn't even sure that going to the other continent would help me much, who would listen to me there? What was I even going to say?

" Hi, I fell from the sky. Please help me get home. "

It was a possibility though, even if it meant to start over...

Of course, if I made it alive there, if I convinced Eris, the shadiest motherfucker from the series, with dark morals and high standards. Why wouldn't he make his way with me, trick me, then leave me like trash, nailed to a random tree? He was a Fae, after all, and I've heard enough not to trust him at all.

But he did make it clear in the series that he tried to help Morrigan by breaking their engagement.

I pressed a thumb to my temple, and focused on him. He was not a bad man... fae, whatever. Maybe...

Pull yourself together, you're acting like a child!

" Lower your heads! " Nimue materialised from thin air, dragging me and Aoife away from the show.

" What's the matter? " I asked, almost breaking my legs on the slippery streets.

" You adore being the center of attention, little demon? " She snickered, pushing us inside her shop. " The man from the Autumn Court eyed you for minutes on end and you didn't even had the shame to avert yours. "

" I was... No, I didn't realise... " I started to apologise, rubbind my hands.

" Maybe he was watching me. " Aoife said, gathering her dress and peeking out the window again.

" No, that gruesome king was watching you. That's even worse. For fuck's sake, stay away from the window! " Nimue screamed, grabbing the girl from her shoulders and pushing her aside. " You wouldn't want their attention drawn to you, trust me, these are fae creatures. They are aggressive and possessive, and really, really powerfull. What bussines do you have with him? "

Aoife opened her mouth, but quicly closed it, ashamed.

" Who are they? " I asked, trying to calm my breath.

" The king's name is Draegan. He is a bastard who crowned himself and his mother after his father died during the war from Pryhtian. "

" Who killed the last king? "

This, this was the piece of information I needed to be sure of the timeline.

" There are three sisters, the youngest one is the first High Lady in history. She reigns with her husband, Rhysand, over the Night Court. The first and second born sisters beheaded the King of Hybern. " Nimue confirmed my suspicions, giving me a solid point of where I was.

So I fell in the fourth book, or somewhere right after the third.

" And the redhead? " Aoife pursed her lips, swirling a blonde strand on her finger.

" He is the oldest son of Beron, the High Lord of the Autumn Court. He is heir to the throne and is very, very unpredictable. " She wiped the concerned look from her face and shushed us.

There was no doubt of what I had to do next. Risky or not, I had to talk to Niven.

When the voices of the crowd slowly died, Nimue pulled two black cloacks from her drawers. " Both of you go back to your houses. Don't come outside untill tomorrow. Draegan is mad enough to put spies to follow Aoife if he caught his attention. "

We circled the working table, filled as always with books and potions, and went to the back door.

" This will help you leave unnoticed. Take Aoife to the farm. " Nimue commanded, her lilac dress swriling aroung her feet as she hurried us down the dusty path. " We'll meet after the weekend passes... Hopefully. "

I stared back at the woman, noticing the concerned air surrounding her. A bad taste filled my mouth as grey clouds covered Thaibar, drowning the houses in a darker haze. A growing fear held my breath hostage between my rib cage as I studied the Countess's beautiful features. Deep down, I felt like it was the last time I would see her sour face.

" Go! " She hissed again, throwing her hands in our direction.

I bit back my anxiety and made a few steps behind. Our eyes met and in that weird moment, a cryptic thought passed between her mind to mine.

The iminent sense of danger.

I took Aoife by the shoulders and put her head down, just as a shadow moved above the houses. Nimue's lips moved quickly, whispering, then blew the air upon us. I felt my skin tingly, like a thousand bugs crawled and nipped at it underneath my dress.

" I feel so damn itchy. " Aoife started, scratching her face and neck, " The Countess has lices?! "

I shake my head and push a finger between my lips, telling her to be quiet. As I moved my hand in front of my vision, I catch a glimpse of my aged, pale skin, covered with patches of darker spots.

" She glamoured us... " I murmur towards the blonde, feeling the gravity of the world pulling me inside the magma center.

" She really is a witch. "

And the magic does exist.

The child inside me danced with joy at the simple realization. Peeking again over my hood, I saw my master talking to two tall men. The third one was coming after us.

" Aoife, someone is coming after us. Follow my lead. " I whisper, falsely tripping over the uneven road. " Oh... Haha, silly me, Gertrude... "

The girl watched me skeptical and I nugged her with my elbow, " Your knees might be better, sister, but I took my father's vigorous genes. "

Her laugh scratched my ears, sounding like a veritable crow.

" Ladies. " A rough voice caught us from behind and we slowly turned, putting a hand over my hunched back.

" Oh, look Gertrude, maybe you won't die an old lady after all. "

Understanding shines in Aoife's blue eyes, and the satisfaction of the game crosses her now old face. " Shut up, you old hag, you know I've always liked blondes. "

I could feel the knight's smoldering gaze even through the iron mask he wore over his face. The man was at least two heads taller than Aoife and I, and his oppressive energy was like a knife in the back of my neck.

" Ladies... " His voice was tinged with a hint of cunning and brute force, as if he had also trained his vocal cords to resemble his massive body.

" Miss! " Aoife corrected him, brushing her now white locks with her bony fingers.

The man looked back, as if he could barely contain his irritation, then turned to us, " Have you seen two young women walking around the village: a blonde, works at the palace and another wearing a blue headscarf? A few peasants said they came to these fields. "

I can feel the muscles in her face tighten, squeezing my forearm tighter. Her eyebrow twitches, but she manages to keep her innocent appearance.

" Sir, I can't see with my right eye and, obviously, the left one is crooked and suffers from glaucoma. I'm practically blind, I haven't seen anyone. " I laugh loudly, then suddenly stop, faking a backpain.

" I can see... I won't keep you from your work, then. " The knight's dumb joke didn't pas unnoticed. As he left, he did not bid us farewell, nor did he look at us a second time and hurried to the witch's hut.

From the distance, I catch Nimue's lilac eyes staring at me, and a slight warm breeze ruffles her brunette hair.

We're fine. I try to tell her through telepathy, as if my magic would just pop out of nowhere.

" Actually, sir, I think I saw something. " Aoife finds herself speaking and I can barely keep myself from throwing her off the hill, " The blonde is preparing to bury her mother, it seems she died last night. She was going to the forest to collect flowers, but I have never seen the one with the headscarf, can you describe her better? "

" Unfortunately, all we know is that she always covers her head and wanders around the village. The king thanks you for the information. "

We both turn to our way and walk slowly to the forest where the parties were organized. When we are surrounded by pairs of tall trees, I pull down my hood and stop Aoife. I didn't even realized that spell had dissipated, so now I could look at the young version of the girl.

" What was that? " I question, pulling my hand from her wrist, " What was with all those explanations? What if we got caught? "

Aoife doesn't answer right away, instead she takes a deep breath and tugs a few strands of blonde hair from her head as she combs it with her fingers. She spins around a patch of grass, aggressively trampling over a handful of healthy marigolds, good enough for making tea.

" Aoife, please stop... " I speak again, much calmer now, and put my hands on her shoulders, turning her face to mine. " I can help you. "

The girl's physiognomy had completely changed: from hope to sadness, from ecstasy to agony. Tears stood on her lower eyelids, clinging to her blonde eyelashes.

" I'm pregnant. " Her testimony hangs between the leaves, long enough for me to process the information.

" With who? " I manage to keep my face solemn, trying hard not to make her go back into her shell.

She doesn't answer me, but puts her hot hands over my palms and sobs jerkily. I remember our first conversation, in which she acknowledged that working at the palace was not all about cleaning and servitude.

" I asked about you because I wanted to know that being seen with me won't put you in any danger. If you change your handkerchief you will be fine, but I... I must either erase my own existence from the earth or someone else will erase it for me. " She puts her hands on her pelvis and falls slightly to her knees. "I'm so sorry, but I can't hold you, you're made with a monster..."

I wipe a few drops of newly formed sweat and suddenly feel sick. Her child was made with Draegan, hence those languid looks, her searching, her desire to get into someone else's bed to hide whose child it really was.

" If you're sure that's what you want, I can help you. " I admit as I sit on the ground next to her small body, then cup her face between my dusty fingers. " As long as the pregnancy is not far enough, I can help you get rid of it. "

My mouth felt bitter talking about an unborn child like that. I didn't know which one was a more appropriate term for abortion: 'to kill him' or 'to get rid of him'. In either case, it sounded as if we were talking about a parasite, not a being in the process of becoming.

But all these aspects were held by the age of the pregnancy: if it was less than a month or two, we couldn't talk about a life. It was very much an embryo, no heart, no lungs, no first breath, it would have been like any failed pregnancy. But if the child was much older, four, even five months, we were about to kill our first human.

" A few weeks, three, maybe even four... "

" Can I take a look? " I ask her cautiously and examine her abdomen as much as possible through the thin dress she was wearing, then feel her belly carefully.

Everything was imperceptible. I couldn't tell just from a physical exam how advanced the pregnancy was. For a proper determination I had to separate her legs and look with a candle in her vagina in the middle of the forest. It wasn't medically ethical. But, again, nothing in this word was ethical.

" I'm going to speak to Nimue as soon as possible to give you an abortion medicine. You must remain under her care for a day or two to make sure that the embryo is safely removed and that we can stop any bleeding that may follow. "

" I can't pay you. All my money went to my mother's treatment. "

" You don't have to, I have some money. I know Nimue. I'll solve it for you... "

I bite the inside of my cheek, thinking about the bag of golden coins I'd painstakingly gathered during the weeks I'd worked for Nimue, waiting for me inside the nightstand that was now intended for the few clothes Nivy's mother made for me.

I always had a little selfishness in me, I hated sharing my material goods and food with my younger cousins. Being the first niece in the family, I had to offer to others, without my will, much more often than I would have liked to. I was often left without the things that I enjoyed or with too little of them to satisfy me. That's how I ended up underappreciating myself and eating much less at our dinners, so that I could leave more to my parents. I thought about how they always worked to maintain our family and how they needed much more strength than me. The same thing occured with my younger cousins. If there were more of us at the table, I would take the wings, to leave the rest of the chicken to them.

It was a small sacrifice for the things they gave me over the years.

My father also taught me to save money and to avoid buying too many clothes, books or other things that in his eyes were useless. He gave me a small business from which I made enough money to be able to support myself and not rely on him anymore. It was not always prosperous, it mostly depended on the season, summer and autumn, when wine was made and people needed to preserve it over a longer period of time.

Of course, other people appeared to whom I would have given my flesh in exchange, but they could only be counted on one hand: my mother, my girlfriend and my cousins from my mother's side. So no, I couldn't say that I would give my skin for my father, even though I knew deep down that he had done so much for me. The emotions that connected us had either rusted with age or dried up and petrified due to the many painful misunderstandings between us.

" I'll find a way to pay you back. " Aoife sighed, wiping her eyes with the lining of her cloak, " You may think it's horrible that I have to give up the child, but I have no financial situation, nor a good mental state. I can't raise a poor, innocent soul to be happy. "

" Don't think of me as an executioner. I am not putting a stigma on you and I don't see you differently. As an apprentice in medicine, I appreciate your rational side and I will try to help you as best as I can." I try to calm her down, while brushing her blonde strands that had stuck to her wet cheeks, " If it makes you feel any better, I would've made the same decision as you. You don't want to see your child barefoot like the ones in Thaibar. Let's just hope that he too will understand this when you both reach the skies. "

From an early age I was taught, or whatever, I taught myself not to show my feelings: not to cry, because I would be weak and annoying, not to be happy, because in the next two seconds my father was going to crush my happiness, not to ask for bicycles, phones, laptops, because I would be constantly yelled at about the sacrifices he made for those money. All I had to do was wear the sickly smile, stuck with force in the middle of my face and a sterile dessert in my soul.

However, my heart silently ached whenever I was hurt by those around me. Now, hearing such words even about an embryo that was going to be cut off from any chance of becoming a child, it shattered in my chest, throwing its sharp glass into my stomach.

I place a hand on my own uterus, thinking about my words. I never wished for children. I wanted to live the life I didn't get until I was 23 years old, happy and without worries. I liked saving animals and taking care of them. I loved giving my hard earned money to adoption centers and volunteering there. I loved nature and theater, old music and opera. I could appreciate absolutely any kind of beautiful art and I could be cerebral at the same time. I always fought for what I loved, a living proof was my relationship from my old world.

Would I be able to fight for a living for my child? Did I knew enough to teach him as well? Where would I get the money to dress him, to buy him something to eat? Could I offer him a roof to protect him from the cold and the rain?

No. And I think that's what Aoife was thinking now.

" Come on, get up, clean your face, we have to get to Niven and stay at the farm. " My words pass by her while I try to lift her from her mohammedan position.

Sobs came uncontrollably from her already dry lips and her hands were shaking. She raises her eyes, now blue as the depths of the sea, and opens her mouth several times, trying to convey something to me.

" Shh, shh, we'll be fine. I promise. "

The girl places a hand on her sternum, burying her black fingernails in the white shirt she was wearing. I wrap my arms around her and rock her back and forth, like my mother used to do to calm me down.

" After I kill my child, I'm going to sneak onto my uncle's ship and go to the continent. " Aoife explained, her voice barely rising through the broken sobs. I remain frozen, with my ears glued to her head.

I don't know what shocked me more: the words she chose, the frankness of it or the fact that she had a chance to leave.

" Where do you want to go? "

" Far from Prythian, on the northernmost continent, right near the shore where many immigrant ships anchor. There is a place where only women and a few children are allowed to stay. " She watched me with a spark of hope. " Not many people know about this place. It's a refuge for all species of creatures, protected by several layers of spells. Rosehall. "

Rosehall. Rose-Hall. Another name I had heard of but being such an insignificant detail, I had forgotten about it.

" You should run away with me. I can feel you don't belong here. "

A second passes as I stare at her, with my mouth half opened, waiting for her to admit that she knows who I am and how I got here. I slowly roll my eyes around, waiting to see the farmers coming out with pitchforks and hammers from the trees. Not only was I an outsider, but I also had red hair. A flame for moths. And I also admitted that it was okay to want an abortion. Some people would torture you alive just for the last mentioned aspect.

" What do you mean? " I ask cautiously, raising myself slightly in a more advantageous position for running away.

" To be honest, I don't know what I wanted to say either. It's just that... " She looks at me carefully, with warmth, as if she knew me for a lifetime, as if she had seen in my soul something that no one has read before. " Don't mention this to anyone, but either I have a vision problem or I inherited it from my mother... I can see colors around people, my mother used to call it an 'aura' and yours is something I've never seen before : a dazzling gold, as if you were the daughter of the Sun incarnated in a mortal form. You are the first and only one so far. "

I blinked a few times. A lot of compliments in one sentence. They were compliments, right? Golden aura, daughter of the Sun, the only one with such a color. Should I feel special? Because if the answer is yes, then I was definitely totally in the wrong direction. I wanted to make myself small and unimportant, as I was two seconds ago, before she told me what a strange color I have around me.

Thinking about it, Lydia did mention something today: enough gold to put in her pockets, tongues of Death. Was this all connected?

I believed Aoife. I've always had an unbreakable faith in supernatural things, chakras, wicca stuff, crystals, tarot, aura, palm or coffee readings. How many times have I been with my mother to a weird old woman to make us reads in coffee beans. And above all of this: I fell through layers and layers of worlds, piled on top of each other. I could believe anything at this point.

I was also very sensitive to the energy of the people around me. I could feel them from a kilometer away with what intentions they came towards me, who is bad or good, who is hidden or just introverted. I didn't take it as some superhuman quality, but only as a repercussion of the traumas at home when I learned to recognize the person by the steps and developed my peripheral view.

" You'll say I'm crazy. " She stated, aware of every expression written on my face. Of course, my eyebrows had risen to the middle of my forehead, but I couldn't control myself. "My mother could see the Shadow People roaming around Thaibar late at night. You've probably heard that you shouldn't go near the forest unless you're in a very large group. It's good that Nimue and Niven's family warned you to cover your hair: these creatures have a weakness for stunning, red-haired women."

" No, I'm sorry, I take your word for it. I've also seen enough in my life. Thank you for trusting me. " I smile at her and try to pick her up. " Before we leave, can you tell me if you see anything else? You know, in my aura? "

Aoife seems caught on the wrong foot, but she quickly balances herself and frowns, as if she is trying to move an object with the power of her mind.

" No. I've tried before, but I keep bumping into something when I want to dig deeper. It feels like you have a shield around you, sometimes they appear like sharp, shadow tongues. They intertwine in a thin thread with your aura and they go somewhere, but the trail is cut, like it was severed. "

I nod, half satisfied, half confused. I take her forearm in mine and gently lead her down the treaded path that led to Niven's family farm. The road through the woods was a very devious way to get to their house. It came through the back of the village and led to a large door, hollowed out in the surrounding walls.

I glance at Aoife out of the corner of my eye, weighing on my tongue the question I've been dying to ask her ever since I heard that her uncle has a ship. This meant two things: if Aoife managed to filter herself in, either she could help me too or women were allowed on board as well. It was my ticket out of Thaibar.

Of course, I had to think about several things if I wanted to run away with blondie. Well, if she ever let me come with her. Where I was going to go, money, how to reach the characters I knew from the book and how to persuade them into helping me. And all of this only if someone doesn't suddenly decide to kill me in all the other stages. I could get my hands on a map of Prythian. What I couldn't do was get to Velaris, where many of the Inner Circle spent their lives.

Let's not talk about the fact that sexual assault here was something that occured often inside every court I had to cross to reach the night one. And not only that: it was the killing factor, as I said, thieves, creatures and faes and I had close to zero military training to deal with them. I didn't know how to handle a knife beyond chopping and cutting herbs and meat, I didn't know how to fight with someone. I only knew how to struggle and hope that I manage to do some damage. They had no guns here, just bows or swords or daggers. And on top of that: I had no powers to use.

It was phenomenal how I had fallen into this universe, survived the crash and received no special power, no unique ability. Nothing. I was just a simple healer.

The only thing I could use to my advantage, if I was going to travel, was to search through Nimue's manuals and get myself some poisons, sulfuric acid, something that could have resembled firecrackers or bombs, and all this had to be carried in a purse and in sufficiently resistant containers.

Dear good. How complicated it was to get back to my own shitty life. If I must say one thing: I don't even know why I'm fighting so much to get back. No one was waiting for me except Icarus, and my life was as precarious as here. At least in this world I had something to eat.

I raise a hand to massage my temples and sigh.

I didn't know where to start the plan and where to end. My mind was broken. What I needed now was a second opinion: Niven. I was determined, today I have to talk to her, to convince her that I'm not crazy and that neither is she and that I'm not from this world.

" Something is bothering you. " Aoife observed, who now seemed a bit more relaxed, " Is it about our discussion earlier? "

" Not at all. I promised that I would help you and I will do so. It's just..." I grimace, refusing to look at her, focusing my gaze on Niven's house from a few steps away. " If you were to leave, as you said, can I come with you? "

Aoife measures me from head to toe. Someone calls us from afar.

" I thought you were happy here. Why would you want to leave? "

" You were right when you said I'm not from here. I have to find my way back home. " I confess as I stop on my tracks, my black cloak sweeping the ground around me. " I can't stay here forever, I need help and I think I can find it on the continent. "

" You mean Prythian or the northern continent, right? " Aoife says cautiously, her blonde hair shining brightly in the light.

I lightly nod my head and see her understanding passing in her eyes. "Something happened here... "

" Girls, you're on time. Some of the workers from dad's church brought some bags with books they found there. " Niven speaks excitedly, moving her gaze from me to Aoife, who were staring at each other. " Um, since mom has work and Shum is away, I was thinking you could help me organize them and take them back when I'm ready. Did something happen? "

" I think Cyan has something very important to tell us. "

I finally look at the most important person in my life for the last few weeks. My savior, who was either going to think I was crazy or kick me out. Sweat was running down her temples and upper lip and the sleeves of her gray shirt were up to her elbows.

" Niven, it's time to tell you the truth."

" You finally found the courage... I have been waiting for you to talk to me. "

P.S.: The chapter is not fully edited. Tomorrow part 2 is up. ❤️

14 notes · View notes

annebaneriddle · 3 years ago

Text

MDZS prompt idea: Supreme calamity ghost WWX

I tried to find a fanfic with a prompt like this one, but couldn’t find any. Feel free to use it to write a fanfic, you don't even need to credit me, you just need to send me the link so I can read it.

The prompt is kinda a crossover with Heaven Official's Blessing, but not quite. You don't need to have read TGCF to understand it, since the TGCF character's are only ever mentioned and never appear.

So, my idea was:

After the first siege on the Burial Mounds, where Wei Wuxian dies, his soul doesn't shatters, he is really weak, just a tiny ghost fire trying to keep other spirits and resentfull beings away from little A-Yuan until help, hopefully, came.

When Lan Wangji goes to the Burial Mounds and finds A-Yuan, WWX notices that he is hurt and follows him both to be near A-Yuan and to find out what the hell happened to LWJ. He manages to leave the Burrial Mounds since he was the one to change the wards around it when he was alive. He also maneges to get into Cloud Recesses, since he isn't a resentful spirit.

When LWJ faints as soon as he gets A-Yuan to the healers and the healers are taking care of both A-Yuan and LWJ, WWX sees the 33 lashes on the man's back, and is kinda freaking out trying to find out what LWJ would have possibly have done to receive such punishment.

It isn't until months latter that he hears Lan Qiren arguing with Lan Xichen and mentioning the reason of LWJ's punishment that he finds out that LWJ received the 33 lashes for protecting him.

Just like Hua Cheng became a poweful ghost after witnessing Xie Lian suffer, so did WWX after witnessing LWJ suffer. His rage towards himself for letting such thing happen with such a good and righterous person and his ressentment towards LXC and LQ for doing something like that to LWJ were so big that he went from a weak ghost fire to a powerful vengeful ghost.

WWX, however, is such a good person that, even being resentful and enraged, he decides not to retaliate (ok, maybe he did gave LXC and LQ a lot of nightmares about what happened to LWJ, not that he is going to admit it) and settles with watching A-Yuan grow and appearing on LWJ's dreams during the Lan's seclusion to keep nightmares at bay and interact with the man inside the dreams.

He thought LWJ hated him, so it was quite a surprise to see how much the man was grieving him, how much his death hurt him.

He feels just fine where he is, and that's when he notices he has been in love with LWJ for a long time, that all his attempts of getting LWJ's attention when they were teenagers were because he liked the Lan on a romantic way. Now all knowing looks Huaisang gave him made sense, specially because he hasn't noticed that he was attracted to both women and men thanks to pure denial.

He also starts to grow restless, he wants to be able to do more - the cultivation world isn't getting any better for what he heard some Lans talking, and LWJ's moods aren't getting any better neither, he's only getting better at hiding them from A-Yuan -. That's when he finally decides to go to the Tonglu Mountain's slaughter and try to become a supreme ghost. If he managed to almost single-handly win a war and don't have his soul shattered after destroying the Stigian Tiger Seal, he thinks he might have good chances on coming out of this one without having his sould destroyed.

To his surprise, he finds out that he can still control resentfull energy and resentfull beings, so what could’ve taken him decades or centuries to achieve took him only one year. He managed to become a supreme ghost.

He starts his self-imposed mission of trying to make the cultivation world a better place, and he starts it by getting back his notes and inventions that were with the Jin. He finds Xue Yang trying to recreate the Stygian Tyger seal and kills him before destroying the seal for good. He takes his notes and hide them.

His next stop is at the Burial Mounds. He kills resentful monsters that were born there, free the souls and put the souls who want rest to rest. The ones who don’t, he guides them to the Ghost City.

The people from Yilling start talking about the young man they see day and night guiding spirits from the Burial Mounds. They say it’s the same young man who used to go into town and sell radishes with his son and that other shy young man.

One day, months after it started, the wards around the Burial Mounds fall. There are no longer monsters and spirits there, the land has been purified. Cultivators go there to investigate and the description they heard of the man people saw sounds an awful lot like Wei Wuxian, but they can’t prove it’s him since they saw with their own eyes the man being eaten alive by his own corpses and the Yilling Patriarc look-alike didn’t make any move to get revenge on them. They decide to wait and see how things will turn out.

LX decides not to tell his brother about it, he doesn’t want LWJ to get hopes that WWX is still alive only for these hopes to get crushed later.

WWX decides to go to Gusu to see LWJ. he is really happy when he sees that the man is already being able to get up from the bed. There are still some months for his seclusion to end, tho. WWX gives in to his desire of telling LWJ he is still there and shows himself. Lots of LWJ thinking he is allucinating, lots of tears, feelings and love declarations. WWX convinces LWJ that he isn’t hallucinating, but sometimes LWJ still thinks he is.

LWJ questions his brother about what is happening outside of the Jingshi (what comes as a surprise, because he has let clear that he didn’t give a damn about what was happening to the cultivation world) and keeps questioning until LXC tells him about the rummous that the Yilling Patriarc is back. LWJ is relieved that he indeed isn’t hallucinating and makes sure to point out that the cultivation world is lucky that WWX doesn’t resent them for what they did to him.

That’s when rummors start about a new Supreme Ghost coming to be and that he is considered a Calamity by the heavenly court, they say that the said Supreme Ghost is WWX and call him Silver Lost-Guiding Moon. Siver moon because of his gentle grey eyes, lost-guiding because he is always guiding lost souls, guiding lost people through the mortal roads and keeping them away from the roads of the ghost realm during Ghost Festivals, and appearing on people’s dreams when they are feeling lost and pray to him for counseling.They say the heavely court considered him a calamity because he gets into their way and interfere on their plans while helping people safe and doesn’t stop even if they demand him to. Some gods tried to make him stop, but failed. They gave up when martial god after martial god went back to the heavenly court beaten up and with threats of having their temples burned and civil god after civil god came back shamed for losing debates. They still remembed very well what Hua Cheng had done and weren’t willing to see if WWX was crazy enough to do the same thing, specially because WWX reminded them too much of HC.

Anything after here would be up to you to create.

(Someone please write it, I’m dying to read a fanfic like this)

#mdzs #the untamed #mo dao su zhi #the grandmaster of diabolism #the grandmaster of demonic cultivation #wei wuxian #wei ying #yilling patriarch #yilling laozu

70 notes · View notes