Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Monday, May 28, 2007
Battle of the Faeries - Chapter Two
Chapter Two
The next morning, of course, she remembered almost nothing. All that remained of her frightening nighttime “excursion” was this odd feeling she couldn’t shake off that something horrible was either happening right then, or was about to happen very soon…
“EVELYN!” her teacher roared suddenly, slamming his fist down on her desk. Evelyn jumped and nearly fell out of her seat. Mr. Mellow’s face was inches from hers as he continued his tirade. “HERE AT SPRINGFIELD HIGHSCHOOL,” he screamed at her. “WE DO NOT DAYDREAM IN THE MIDDLE OF CLASS!” She cringed, trying her best to ignore the flecks of spit thrown at her. “DO YOU HEAR ME?!” Mr. Mellow thundered.
“Yes, Mister Mellow,” she mumbled, staring at her desk in an attempt to avoid the 26 pairs of eyes she knew were focused on her.
“What was that?” the teacher said loudly.
“Yes, Mister Mellow!” Evelyn shouted back, staring up into his face, which was red from the force of his tantrum.
“Good!” he barked. “Because I’m sick and tired of you kids letting your minds wander off when I’m talking!” He glared around the room at everyone as though to prove his point. “So listen up!”
“Yes, Mister Mellow!” the kids chanted in unison as a reply. Evelyn wished she could just sink down into her chair, but she knew this would only earn her another one of Mr. Mellow’s rather memorable – and very loud – “lectures.” So, as discreetly as she could, she wiped the saliva off her face and quickly straightened her uniform before Mr. Mellow turned around to face the class once more.
When the lunch bell rang, she – and probably most of her classmates – heaved a sigh of relief. As she sophomores flooded into the cafeteria, Evelyn stepped to one side of the doorway to wait for her friend, Lana, to appear. As soon as she did, Evelyn grabbed her friend’s hand and dragged her off to the food line. Today was Pizza Day, and-
“Aw, man!” Lana exclaimed, cutting off Evelyn’s thoughts. “Cal took the last piece!” Evelyn followed her friend’s line of gaze and saw, to her dismay, that Lana was right. The pizza plate was, yet again, empty.
“Aw, man, we always miss it!” Evelyn said sadly as they gathered up the rest of their food and headed over to an empty table. This disappointment was something they received every Friday, so she supposed they should be used to it. But she just kept hoping that maybe, just maybe they would finally get a piece...
“That’s only ‘cause the stupid football players take, like, five pieces each!” Lana grumbled.
“And because you take forever to get into the cafeteria!” Evelyn replied, not knowing why she was defending the football players. As if they needed it, the great big bunch of lumbering…
“Hey, it’s not my fault I’m seated in the back of the class!” Lana retorted, interrupting her insulting thoughts. “And besides, I’ve told you plenty of times to go ahead and get my food, too.”
“We’re not allowed to do that, Lana.”
“Yes we are, Evelyn.”
“Are not, Lana.”
“Are, too, Evelyn.”
“Are not, Lana!”
“Are-“
“Why don’t you just eat the food you have instead of arguing?” said a deep, rough voice with a thick Russian accent from behind them. “That way perhaps you will finish before the time is up."
Both girls whirled around to see a young man – probably a senior – standing there holding a food tray. Lana opened her mouth to say something, but no words came out. She was clearly stunned, something that rarely happened to her. She looked over at Evelyn as if to say: “Do you know him?” Evelyn shook her head quickly, and then turned to the boy.
“Who are you?” she asked, trying not to stare at him. He was really quite handsome, in a creepy sort of way.
“I?” he said, walking around the table and sitting across from her. He seemed to focus all his attention on her as he spoke, which made her feel both flattered and somewhat scared. “I am Mikhail, a foreign exchange student from Russia. And you are Evelyn and Lana.”
“How do you know?” Evelyn said, surprised. Mikhail gave her a small smile and then pointed at the nametags all the students at Springfield High were required to wear. Evelyn glanced down at hers, and then blushed, feeling stupid once again. To prevent herself from saying more stupid things, she grabbed a few French fries and stuck them in her mouth.
“I heard your teacher yelling in class,” Mikhail said, finally turning away from her and focusing on his food. “Why was that?”
“Why do you care?” Lana said suddenly, apparently having found her voice. Mikhail looked up from his cheeseburger, raising an eyebrow slightly.
“I was merely wondering if all teachers here taught that way,” he replied calmly, as though this should be obvious. Lana opened her mouth to retort, but Evelyn caught her eye and gave her a ‘calm down’ look before turning back to Mikhail.
“Not all our teachers scream at us. Mister Mellow just has a few anger management problems…” she explained.
“Has he ever harmed anyone?” Mikhail asked, once more focusing intently on Evelyn. She now sincerely wished he wouldn’t, but said nothing about it.
“No, I don’t think he has,” she replied, glancing over at the teachers’ table. Mr. Mellow just happened to be looking over at their table and their gazes met for a moment. Evelyn looked away quickly, repressing a shudder. Mikhail watched her closely for a minute, but then he turned again to his food and said no more for the rest of the lunch break.
All through the rest of the school day, it seemed as though he shadowed her. Somehow he always turned up in her classes, but he never said anything. He was constantly watching her, though. She tried not to think about it, but every once in a while, when she would turn to get something from her backpack, she’d happen to look up and there he would be, staring at her. She tried to tell him a few times with some vague form of sign language she made up to look at the teacher and not at her, but this only got her weird looks from her classmates and detention for not paying attention in her classes. Another odd thing she noticed was that none of the teachers mentioned Mikhail before class like they normally did for other foreign exchange students. “If I didn’t know any better,” she said in a note to Lana. “I’d say that you and I are the only ones who can see him…” Lana sent back a reply saying:
“There’s definitely something strange about him. You should stay away as much as possible.” Evelyn nodded, only too happy to comply. Mikhail’s deep brown eyes and intense stare reminded her of the frightening dream she could not remember, and that feeling of foreboding was starting to irritate her.
After school, she stuffed her things into her backpack and headed on over to detention. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the first time she’d been there. In fact, as she walked into the “D-room,” as the regular detention-receivers called it, the supervisor looked up from his work and gave her a wry smile and a ‘welcome back’ wave. Evelyn just slumped down in her chair, only to bolt upright a moment later and whirl around in her seat. There was Mikhail, sitting there and watching her. “What are you doing here?!” Evelyn hissed angrily.
“No talking please!” the supervisor said, not bothering to look up from his work to see who had spoken. Evelyn shot a glare back at Mikhail, and then realized that she was getting a lot more odd looks from her detention-mates. Most of them were there regularly with her, and had never seen her acting so strangely before. Evelyn shrugged and turned back towards the front of the room, trying to ignore the prickling feeling on her neck that told her she was being watched closely by someone. Crossing her arms over her chest with a defiant glare in her usually soft blue eyes, she slumped down in her seat again. Lana was right; there was something definitely wrong with this Mikhail guy, and she was going to find out what.
©Copyright Forsaela (Me!)
I will hunt you down if you steal it... ><
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Battle of the Faeries - Chapter One
“Oh, please,” Evelyn muttered under her breath as she looked up from her book. “Not this again!” But her plea went unheard. She snorted in disgust and slowly got up from her seat on the sofa in the living room. Once more, one of her older step-siblings had done something “wonderful!” and her stepmom was ooo-ing and ahh-ing over it. This time it was Daniel, the oldest of the family. Apparently, he had written yet another poem.
“You should publish this one, Daniel!” her stepmom, Jacqueline, cried. Turning, she beckoned to Evelyn. “Come over here, Lyn!” she said. “Come read this!” Evelyn walked over slowly and read Daniel’s poem to herself. It said:
Forest of Thoughts
By Daniel D.
In my town there is a place I go;
Away from people pacing to and fro.
It is a quiet place, this place of mine;
A silent place among the pines.
In this place I sit to think,
Of wondrous things on my imagination’s brink.
Of fairies and dragons, wizards and more;
Of all things found in ancient lore.
Someday, perhaps, I’ll bring a pal,
And sit together and think we shall,
To imagine and dream of a magical land
With shining beaches of soft white sand.
So, if ever you need a place to rest,
If ever you’re feeling much too stressed,
And if ever complete silence is sought,
Then come, come to this Forest of Thoughts.
‘This is good,’ she thought, and with that thought came a feeling of despair. ‘How am I ever going to match up to this?’ She sighed and handed the poem back to Daniel. “Nice work,” she said, forcing a smile. He grinned back, then turned and walked back to his bedroom. Evelyn turned quickly to Jacqueline. “Hey, um, Mom?” she said. “I’ve been thinking, and I was wondering if-“
“Hold on, Evelyn,” Jacqueline said quickly, putting up a hand to stop Evelyn mid-sentence. She was clearly very excited. “I have to e-mail my favorite magazine and ask if they’ll publish Daniel’s poem!” She flashed a bright smile at Evelyn, and then hurried over to the phone.
“- I could take horseback riding lessons,” Evelyn finished, now mumbling under her breath. Jacqueline, of course, didn’t hear her since she was completely absorbed in an enthusiastic message to yet another editor. “Thanks, Mom, you’re the best,” Lyn finished with an exasperated – but soft – sigh. With a sigh, she turned and trudged up the stairs to her bedroom. “Hey, Johnny,” she muttered, flinging herself face-down onto her bed and staring up at the large poster she had of Captain Jack Sparrow. “How was your day?” She heard a faint whine from over to her right and moved over to look down at Coco, her black Pomeranian. “Hey, you,” she said, smiling and reaching down to pick up the little fluff ball and set it down on the bed beside her. Coco immediately crawled over and curled up next to her. Evelyn couldn’t help but smile again, but it soon slipped off. “What now, Coco?” she said softly, her sadness returning. “I can never measure up to Daniel’s poems, Tia’s speeches are better than anything I could ever do, and Felicia’s grades… I’m barely scraping up a B-plus, and that’s with extra credit. Life really stinks. And I fail at it. I fail at stinky life…” Coco whined sympathetically, starting up into her eyes, which brought a small smile to Evelyn’s lips. “You don’t understand anything I’m saying, do you?” she said, scratching the dog fondly behind the ears. “Oh well, at least you’re a good listener.” She let her head drop down onto the pillow with a sigh. “Why was I put in this family? I’m just a normal girl, struggling through life like the average person. But I’ve got all these… overachievers around me, and it’s like I’m constantly walking in their shadow. Why couldn’t I just be born into a normal family with normal people who live normal lives? It really doesn’t help that I’m the youngest… now I’m expected to live up to their greatness. Oh, how disappointed everyone will be.” Tired and depressed, she gradually drifted off to sleep, her arm curled tightly around Coco, who at that moment seemed to be her only friend in the world.
She had an odd and very frightening dream that night. She found herself, at first, in what seemed to be a blank white room. Nothing surrounded her but white, all around. She didn’t even have a shadow, even though there was an almost unbearably bright light shining from above. The light, coupled with the sheer whiteness of everything nearly blinded her at first. She shielded her eyes, blinking about fifty times before her pupils finally adjusted. She tried to speak, but somehow she’d lost the ability. Her mouth opened and formed words, but no sound came. ‘What’s happening to me?’ she thought desperately, and then jumped as a loud voice echoed her thoughts. It took her a few seconds to realize that this was her own voice, magnified to a hundred times its normal volume. ‘Where am I?’ she thought cautiously, wincing and clapping her hands to her ears as the thundering voice spoke again. ‘What am I supposed to do here?’ Quite suddenly, as if in answer to her question, all the white around her disappeared. At first she thought she was just in complete darkness now, but as he eyes began adjusting, she found she could discern colors. To her left was a mass of black, to her right a mass of white. These two lines, seeming to be solid, were separated by a strip of green. A movement caught her eye and she looked closer at the black. It was… rippling and cheering? ‘That doesn’t make sense…’ she thought, confused but slightly relieved that her thoughts weren’t shouted out as words. ‘Then again, since when do dreams have to make sense?’ As she thought this, she noticed that the masses were beginning to take shape. Eventually she could make out what they were and she gasped and stumbled backward as a frightening scene appeared before her. A humongous battlefield stretched out, farther than she could see. Both men and women stood to fight. One side, a seething mass of black, moved constantly, like rolling, boiling water. Everyone on that side had their mouths open in a furious scream of defiance. Clapping her hands over her ears, Lyn turned to the other side. To her surprise, she found it to be completely silent. All the warriors were dressed in pure white armor that shimmered and gleamed in the bright son. They stared calmly at the black horde, never flinching and barely blinking. Lyn took an immediate liking to this side, and moved towards them.
But quite suddenly, everything started to go wrong. Before her eyes, the first row of Light – nearly 20 people – just collapsed, dead. All the screaming stopped immediately on the Dark side, and they stood still, as though waiting for something more to happen. Evelyn caught an evil, knowing glitter in their eyes, and felt despair rise in her heart. Then the chanting began. She could barely make out what they were saying, it was so loud, but finally it shaped itself into one word. “Sycorax! Sycorax! Sycorax!” Over and over and over again they chanted this word. At first Lyn thought it to be a war cry, but it didn’t take her long to realize it was a name. Somehow that very name struck a note of fear in her and an involuntary shiver ran through her body. “Sycorax! Sycorax! Sycorax!” Their ranks parted and a figure wearing a long black dress moved slowly and arrogantly through. Strangely enough, her hands were empty, save for an ornately carved black scepter with a faintly glowing black orb in the middle. Lyn glanced over at the Light army and saw a flicker of fear in all their eyes as they watched the figure advance toward them. Sycorax – as Lyn supposed she was – stopped walking and held her empty hand up. The mob behind her silenced automatically, and she turned to face the Lights, her completely black eyes gleaming with malice.
“Ah, what is this?” she said, clearly amused by the gathering of now stony-faced soldiers. “You pathetic mortals dare to defy me?” A slight hint of anger entered her voice, and the black sphere in her scepter glowed brighter. Her eyes swept over the army, searching for something… someone. “Who is your leader?” she finally demanded, raising the staff and moving it slowly along the second line of warriors. No one moved forward, though a few flinched as the scepter was pointed at them. Sycorax’ lips twisted in a silent, cruel snarl. “I said… Who is your leader?!” A jagged bolt of black lightning-like energy shot out and struck a man standing in the front row. He cried out and fell to the ground. His comrades shifted ever so slightly away from his body, as though afraid some of the energy would leap out at them. But still no one stepped forward.
“They have no leader!” Lyn shouted abruptly, surprising herself and, apparently and unfortunately, everyone else. Sycorax whirled to face her at her, face contorting suddenly and mouth opening in a cry of rage.
“You!” she shrieked furiously. “What are you doing here?” Evelyn took a step back, raising her hands defensively.
“I-I have no idea. This is just a dream!” she said quickly. Sycorax stared at her for a moment, and then burst out laughing.
“This is…a dream? Ha! This is no dream! This is real life, Evelyn, so stop pretending and fight!”
“Wh-what? Fight? You? You’re insane… I can’t fight you!” Evelyn continued backing away as Sycorax advanced.
“Then die!” the lady in black roared. She swung her scepter up over her head, and then brought it in a vicious downward stroke. A giant ball of black energy erupted from the tip and flew towards Evelyn. She tried to jump out of the way, but her feet felt like they were glued to the ground. Everything began to slow down as it came closer and closer. Suddenly there was a brilliant flash of white light, and she heard a terrifying screech of rage which she guessed came from Sycorax. The next moment she sat up in bed, shaking and sobbing with relief mixed with horror. It had all felt so real, like she had actually been about to die…
Coco whined and licked her hand, and Evelyn collapsed back onto her pillow, still shivering and still scared. She pulled the covers tighter around her and hugged the fluffy dog closer. Closing her eyes, she began to pray, trying to calm down enough to go to sleep. She didn’t quite know exactly why, but she thanked God for saving her life.
It had all seemed much too real…
©Copyright Forsaela (Me!)
I will hunt you down if you steal it... ><
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Cool. They got it right.
| Your Birthdate: September 2 |
 Your strength: Your universal compassion Your weakness: Your unpredictable mood swings Your power color: Mauve Your power symbol: Butterfly Your power month: February |
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Mathallazoth - Sad Post
The heavy steps sounded like a death toll as the massive demon made his way across the hardened rock of the battlefield. Thorns were flat upon his skull, disappearing 'neath the silken tresses of his ebony mane. A powerful snort issued from his flared nostrils, the vapor hanging in the cold air before dissolving once again into nothingness. Emotionless orbs gazed around at the land, strewn with the lifeless bodies of his foes... and his comrades. A spark of rage leapt into them, however, as his eyes wandered over a familiar form. With a furious roar he rushed at the crows perched 'pon it's carcass and they scattered, screeching their bloodthirsty cries to the heavens as they flew into the surrounding trees to wait, their greedy black eyes watching him carefully.
He stood over the frame, lowering his head to brush the cold neck gently. How beautiful the mare had once been, her azure blue coat shining in the sunlight. Now it was dull, marred by scars and caked with dried blood. He noticed how her neck was still stretched out, and her teeth still bared in a vicious snarl towards something nearby. He followed her dead gaze and saw, to his endless fury, the bodice of her sister. A thick stream of muttered swear words flowed from his maw as he stood, still gazing at the two. Then, moving forward, he gently closed the blue roan mare's eyes with a brush of his muzzle. "Rest in peace, my love," he whispered into her ear.
Then, with a gentle shake of his head, he backed away from the horrid scene. Eyelids fell shut as his crania lifted again, muzzle parting to release a mournful cry to the unhearing skies. A thought wandered through his mind as he turned and began to walk out of the land.
Is it truly winning... if all we do is lose?
Wystearya - A Timber Wolf
Wystearya (wis-TAR-yah) shivered in the passing breeze, multi-hued fur waving back and forth as the wind moved on to bother some other poor creature. She lifted her muzzle and scented the air carefully, hundreds of messages immediately vying for attention. Her mind quickly discarded most of them and focused on the important ones. That is, the scents of new wolves. She crawled out from under the bush and padded hesitantly toward the familiar - yet strange - smells.She stopped abruptly and crouched low in the bushes, her dark silver, black, and white coat camouflaging her wonderfully. Topaz eyes gazed out somewhat fearfully at the massive black male who she guessed was the Alpha. She felt that she should make her presence known, but fear, born from the many rejections she'd received, held her back.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
RP between me and Taylor (I'm in red).
"Zip..."
The name was a whisper upon her lips, floating away upon gently blowing winds that made her shiver in surprise. The cold was something she would have to get used to, but it matched her heart at the moment. She felt empty, like someone had pushed all the breath out of her lungs and she couldn't fill them again.
She remembered a time when she felt like she could fly, dancing through the sky and blending in with the puffy white clouds. But then, somehow, she and her mate had fallen apart. She couldn't remember what their argument was about, but it had been something serious. And now, whenever she tried to dance, to fly, it felt like her wings had disappeared.
Everytime I try to fly I fall
Without my wings I feel so small...
A cold shiver ran down his spine, giving the stallion a light shake through the barrel and hock. His dark choclate pelt was damp, darker with sweat and anxiety. Why has he sperated from Experanza? He loved her... didn't he?
"Of course I love her!" He muttered to himself, feeling bad for even thinking of such things. Dark, almost ebon tail dashed from left to right behind him. A whiff caught in the air, stopping him.
He almost did not see the vixen, merely wandered his gaze around. He breathed in the scent again, and his dark orbs finally rested upon her distant, barely recognizeable form.
"So beautiful..."
A whisper on the wind brought her head up and her ears forward, straining to hear the voice again. But was it really a voice? She glanced around, a feverish look in her eyes, bringing them alive with a gleam that had disappeared a while ago. Could it be... he was here? Now? In this land?
Her gaze searched the land desperately until it rested upon a dark form in the distance. Was it really... She tried to call out to the equine, but her voice came out only as a hoarse whisper. She snorted softly, then closed her mouth and tried to step forwards. She couldn't. She tried again, but got the same result. She glanced at her hooves, but could see no mud that would prevent them from moving. What was it that held her back, then?
Fear. It was the fear of hurt, the fear of disappointment. So many times had she seen a figure in the distance and run towards it, only to find that it was instead some other stallion... or worse, a tree. A muffled cry would catch in her throat and she would turn to run away from the depression.
But now... she couldn't even bring herself to find out what it was. She tried to call out, "Who are you?" but it only came out as a loud whisper.
A tear could have jerked from him right then and there, but his eyes were blinded by white, and tears would not fall. Three years of discipline from his father had taught him that, keep a stern face and dry eyes. Always.
He blinked again, seeing her still. She was not a mirage.
"Esperanza... It's me. Zip." His own words did not seem true, but he had to believe it was her.
No tears of joy fell. No delighted call burst from her dry throat. Not even the elated feeling within her was enough to will her to move forward. She just couldn't. She couldn't move, she couldn't speak, she couldn't cry. All her tears had been used.
She tried, desperately, to take a step forward. But instead she stumbled, barely managing to catch herself before she fell to the ground. Her muzzle and knees bumped painfully into the icy ground, though, and a soft snort escaped her from the pain.
It could be him... said a small voice in her mind.
But then again, it couldn't... said another. She picked herself up and shook her head wearily. It could go either way. His voice she had heard many times before, in her mind. The only proof would be... she couldn't even think of proof that would prove he was real.
She blinked a few times as well, just to be sure that he wasn't a figment of her imagination. She was soon satisfied that he wasn't, but even then she couldn't say anything. And so she merely continued to stare at him, allowing her eyes to drink in the wonderful sight as a thirsty equine would drink from a cool river.
Mathallazoth
'What in the world am I doing here?'This was not the first time this thought had crossed the stallion's mind as he wandered through the plains. This was not the place for an equine of his... personality. Then again, he'd tried at the Dark Field and had given up. They were all idiotic, stuck-up snobs there. Perhaps here he could find someone to manipulate. Although, he couldn't count on that. He couldn't rule them like his father did his Empire.
He snorted angrily, pushing thoughts of his father out of his mind. He'd never met the stallion, and therefore had no respect for the equine, be he herd member or Alpha.
Heavy, lightly feathered hooves rested upon the soft turf as the young stallion looked 'round the field. His eyes were emotionless, black, and cold. This was something he would have to work on if he were to woo one of the pathless ones.
Woo. That was such an odd word. One you wouldn't normally hear coming from the mouth - or mind - of a stallion born of two Dark equines. Then again, he had never planned on being like them. No, he would never abandon his just-weaned son and leave him to die to go off in search of a long-lost mate. He would never run away from his mate, either, chased off by his own son...
Again, he forced himself to push these thoughts away and focus on the "task" at hand - er, hoof. He inspected the mare from afar. Usually, he wouldn't go for one outside his own breed, but since there were few of those, she was the best of this lot. And a prize she was. She didn't seem to care what others thought of her, judging by how she yelled for attention without thinking. He chuckled softly as he thought of what would happen to her if she did so in the Dark claiming grounds.
'Alright, I've stood here long enough.'
Slowly, he moved forward at a slow walk. This quickly picked up into a trot, carrying him nearer and nearer. He didn't even stop to think what his sire and dam would think if they saw him here. He didn't care anymore. Then again, he never had...
Stopping nearby, he dipped his raven-hued skull in a swift bow of greeting. "Hello, miss," he said, allowing a gracious smile to flit over his muzzle. Wow, that felt strange. He hadn't smiled in... forever, it seemed.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Verona's (Hi)story
Verona dragged herself slowly over the edge of the terra, leaving a trail of red behind her in the grass. She half-heartedly attempted to heave herself to her hooves, but fell back almost immediately. She could see the waterfall ahead of her, and the roar of its waters blocked out all other sounds. She slowly rose, focusing on everything but the terrible pain. Her legs wobbled, threatening to buckle. 'No!' she thought fiercely. She steadied herself and barely managed to move forward. She finally reached the edge of the pool. She began to slowly let herself sink to the ground, but her legs couldn't stand it. They buckled and she fell hard onto her side. A soft groan escaped her and she closed her eyes against the burning pain.A myriad scars and open, bleeding cuts marred her once gleaming buckskin coat. She was a beautiful Shire once, but that seemed long ago. She had a mate once, and friends. A loving father and mother, too... Why had she left all that and become a Dark? She laid her head down, staring at the water as it fell down to the pool below. Inching forward, she looked into the pool and saw her face. She almost cried out in despair at the reflection. She jerked her head, destroying the picture and sending small ripples across the surface. She tried desperately to block the horrid vision from her mind, trying to remember herself as she was before. And somehow, she managed to…
She remembered a quiet summer's day. She had been running and playing tag with her younger sister, Beauty. A small smile appeared on her muzzle for a moment, but it disappeared as she struggled for another breath. Another memory burst into her mind, harsh and painful. She remembered a Friesian stallion coming and attacking their little herd. He had a massive army of mares behind him, all of them ruthless, merciless killers. She stared in horror as she saw her mother falling to the ground, dead. Her father fought valiantly, but he was no match for three of the Shires in the attacking army. Danika, Arista, and Magnum were their names, as she learned later once they became her friends after she forgot her past.
And she remembered standing before the Friesian, bowing her head and swearing allegiance to him. "Just don't hurt my sister," she had said, sobbing as she looked down at the smaller form beside her. Belleza was crying pitifully, frightened at the cruelty of the war lord. The stallion, Nightmare, had laughed cruelly, kicking the black filly viciously.
"Get up," he snarled to her. "If you cooperate, you won’t get hurt… much." And so they did. They followed him without another word. And slowly, they became like him. They were Darks – brutal and cold-blooded. Her younger sister, now called Belleza, was the more savage of the two. She threw herself with eagerness into her training. Because of her rather sadistic mind-set, she rose quickly within the ranks. As soon as she turned four, she became Beta Mare, answering only to Nightmare and whoever his current Alphess was.
Verona gasped as another shot of pain coursed through her ragged body. She closed her eyes, waiting for it to subside. When it did, the memories returned. She watched as she was separated from her sister when Nightmare's son destroyed the Empire. She remembered wandering for years, looking for her. She figured Belleza was doing the same thing at the time, but she could never be sure. And she remembered coming to Forever Free, still a Dark, and still searching for her sister. And she found her… in the lands of the Eleandi Caves.
Now the memories sped up, flashing through her mind like a broken slideshow. There was Belleza, teasing the first Alpha. And there was Belleza, smashing against her, Verona's, body and throwing her to the floor. She remembered staring up into Belleza's hate-filled eyes again as the black mare threatened to kill her if she told of Belleza’s true name. And then, there was Belleza, though she hadn't been able to see her at the time. There she was lying on the floor. Verona felt herself kick out cruelly at her head in spite and anger. She felt her hoof connect with her sister’s head with a sickening thud. She heard Belleza slump to the ground, unconscious. Then she heard more footsteps and found herself shoved up against the wall by the stallion, Skyscraper. He had been furious with her for what she did, but she had remained calm and sneered at him, taunting him and saying that he loved her sister. Somehow, Skyscraper hadn’t killed her and she’d survived the meeting.
Then, finally, there came her last memory. She had been in a dimly-lit cave, thinking about a few things, when she heard footsteps. She looked up to see her sister. "What do you want?" she said innocently.
"Revenge," Belleza growled. Verona was mildly surprised at the venom in her sister’s voice. Then again, it was to be expected after what she, Verona, had done. "Do you have any idea what you did to me?"
"I got my own revenge," Verona hissed. "Nothing more."
"You have taken away my SIGHT!" Belleza bellowed. "Now I have to go through my life blind! I don't even know if Nightmare will let me stay in the herd!" Verona stared at her dumbly, unbelieving. How could a kick to the head cause blindness? And yet, it was true, she knew it now. Belleza wasn't looking directly at her, though her eyes were filled with hate. And they were whiter than usual...
"Well, sorry sister, but it's what you get," she replied, smirking.
"And here's what you get," Belleza snarled. She lunged at Verona with amazing accuracy, knocking them both to the ground. The black mare jumped up almost immediately, placing a large hoof on Verona's throat, just below her jaw line. Verona snorted and jerked her head and neck to the side, throwing Belleza off balance - but not for long. She regained her stasis and leapt forward, rearing and slashing at Verona's sides with her forehooves. But this wasn’t near enough for the blood-thirsty femme. Whirling, she kicked out as hard as she could with her powerful hind legs. Unprepared for any of this, Verona felt her sister’s hooves hit her and stumbled sideways, hearing quite a few ribs crack. She gasped as one of the splinters jabbed her lungs. Fortunately, it didn't pierce through. Belleza took advantage of Verona's pause and bounded forward again. Verona did her best to ward off the ferocious attacks, but she was too weak now. She crumpled to the ground and Belleza laughed triumphantly, setting her hoof on Verona’s neck once more. "And now for my final revenge," she hissed. Slowly, very slowly, she applied pressure on the smaller mare’s neck, crushing her windpipe and blocking all air out. She lowered her head, leaning closer to Verona’s ear, and whispered. "Goodbye, Violet, for that is your true name. You have never been a Dark. You are a true Light."
Verona's eyes widened and she opened her mouth, gasping for air. Darkness was clouding her eyes and mind as she slipped away to death. She drew one last, ragged breath, and just managed to say: "Good-bye... Beauty. You are my one and only beloved sister. I'm sorry for all I've done to you..." And with that, she fell limp, her head resting at the edge of the water and a small, peaceful smile on her face.
Thus ends the life of Verona, a.k.a. Violet. Alone and unloved she may be, but a Dark she is not.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Greetings!
Enjoy!
-*Peach*-
