TinyBlueberry
Lord of Altera
Finding herself alone in her office once again, the Moor elf looked out across the various papers pinned to her walls and the table in front of her. Averagely drawn, each page held a different location with various notes and writing on the page. Turning her attention down to the small black leather book that rested between her elbows, she couldn't help the tears that were running unchecked down her cheeks as she watched a puddle collect below her. Eyes red and watery, she found herself unable to peel themselves away from the book, her eyes begging her to blink to bring some form of relief to them but she knew that at this point she was holding more tears at bay. Hearing the faint whisper of the man who she had known as a friend, she would feel as if the whispers came from within the book she continued to stare at. Gruff, yet soft that it was almost inaudible. Bringing her gloved hands up to the sides of her head, her fingers slipped through her white hair and tangled themselves in it, gripping tightly as she could at the patches between her fingers. His voice disappeared as quickly as it had come, only to be replaced by a familiar female tone behind her.
"How pitiful... She's crying over someone who she could never have... Once again, never satisfied with the things she already has, hmm?"
Spinning as fast as possible while moving to stand, she would look back with wide eyes as the chair clattered to the floor and she fell on her rear. As she looked, she was no longer in her desolate castle far up north, but in Mockingbay, within the tavern. And in front of her were two people who were supposed to bring her joy, but for some reason the sight of gave a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach. Standing just feet away from her, Azariah Ralotumal and Sif Sigurd stood. Her chest tightened from the fear and guilt, her heart feeling as if it skipped a beat as she looked between the two of them as if she was looking for clues to how or why she was there and answers as to why they were there with her. As her reddened eyes flicked between the two figures, she could hear what sounded like small figures moving around her even though there was no one there to be seen. Smaller voices still as it would feel as if a tiny hand would reach up to cup around her ear to whisper to her, a sickeningly sweet tone while the sound of it seemed to send venom down her spine.
"You should let him kill you... You know he'll do it quickly. It'll be painless. Just one swing, that's all it'll take. You know his weaponry! And after what you've done, why do you think Azariah will stop him a second time?"
Arms crossed over her chest, Azariah would be watching her with a cold expression before turning to put her back to her as she began to talk. The voice distorted, it would be obvious that the warm feelings of sibling love were gone from the specter in front of her as she began to list out the wrongs that she had done. Unfeeling and void of true caring or sympathy, Azariah practically spat out her words.
"You whore. You think you were honestly part of my family? No. You're nothing but a common tavern wench who I used to get information from people. Filthy disgrace. Besides, everything you touch dies. Look how many times Cymic has died since you met him. And look at what was his name... Andras? I wouldn't doubt that you had a hand in that one as well! And for what, personal gain? You know that Sigurd was right, don't you? You're a selfish woman with not true value because of you only thinking of yourself..."
Azariah turned back to look at her, moving closer as she began to circle around her, all while continuing to go on and on. Tone practically spitting fire as she begin to express more and more pain in her tone as she came to a stop in front of her. Crouching down to be eye level with her, the eyes of the woman seemed to be blackened out but as she stared at Lillinette it was as if the memories of their past together began to play through Lillinette's mind. Meeting Azariah and Cymic as his hand was removed, the moments of them talking and bonding but those kind memories were laced heavily as well with memories also of her stealing away Cymic, doing things to him all while smiling into Azariah's face.
"You think I felt pity for you when Rob did what he did to you? No - it was payback for what you did to me. Because the pain that Rob caused you is NOTHING compared to the pain that I felt when my heart was ripped out of my chest. I loved him, I loved him more than I loved myself. My clothes, my hair... I did it all to make him happy. I was loyal to him, dedicated. Not some cheap whore who was going to sleep with someone just as soon as I got drunk! Oh, because let's not forget that time in Grafjell, hmm?! You didn't care about anyone other than you and your own sexual desires when you took Cymic from me. You knew he had a weakness for women shaped like you. And I couldn't compete with that, not after giving birth to OUR son. The same son who I let you hold. The same son that I came to you to ask for help in raising as it was my first child. I trusted you, Lillinette... You were my Sister. But you didn't care, did you? You only wanted what someone else had, because you're just never satisfied. What, would you have ripped my son out of my arms given the chance, to call him your own? Would you have changed his name as well? Or would you have kept the name to spite me... I never actually forgave you, Lillinette. I only keep you around because you're still of use to be."
Pushing against her knees, Azariah would move to stand and take a few steps back while she glared down at Lillinette. Her arms crossing back over her chest, Sigurd would for the time would remain silent as the mass of iron would simply give her a cold glare from under the helm. Azariah would position herself near Sigurd, standing in front of him as the two would watch her. The small pattering of feet would be heard again as more hands pressed to Lillinette's ears, tiny voices and hallow cackling. Reaching to hold her ears, Lillinette attempted to ignore the voices as she choked back tears, a dull throbbing in the pit of her stomach.
"Think of your poor parents and how ashamed they'd be of you if they were alive... Or well, they would be alive if it wasn't for you, now wouldn't they? Just a disgrace to your family’s name, you are. Killing all of these people for what, your pride? Hmm!~ Maybe it should have been your mother to deliver your killing blow. It is her shame after all to have such a useless daughter, isn't it? Or maybe your father, as I doubt he would want you to create any more children."
Stepping forward again, Azariah would just smirk down at her as she tilted her head to the side, almost as if thinking over how to say just the right things for her to say. Turning to her left however, she would smirk as a familiar head of blonde hair came into view, followed by what could have been the man's clone if only shorter. Cymic and Jecht stepping into view, Azariah would motion her arm over towards the two as both of the men standing there would simply glare at her. Silent for the time being, the two new figures would simply watch as Azariah only continued to get closer to Lillinette, the woman in the floor locking onto Cymic and Jecht as she stared with mouth agape and eyes wide.
"There, you see? Your child you abandoned because you found out that having the child of a man who you no longer had a use for became difficult. And look at how he's turned out without your influence! He works for Anhald, he's growing strong and steady. And here's the kicker..."
Azariah crouched down and put her hand beside her mouth as she 'whispered' in a harsh tone to Lillinette's face. The moor on the floor instinctively reached a hand for her stomach as she kept her eyes trained on the two, eyes still wide as she began to shake while tears continued to stream down her face as she listened to Azariah. The two in front of her just watched her with the same emotionless eyes that her once sister had. Cymic at least having a look akin to hurt on his face while Jecht had no detectable emotions, simply giving her a blank stare.
"He's alive... Funny how that works, huh? What a direct lack of influence from you can do. And who knows! Maybe if you stay away from him and keep your curse off of him, then he should be able to live even longer and do many great things!"
Cymic would have let out a scoff while Jecht stood otherwise soundless. The two would step forward, Jecht instead of answering only twisting his head to spit towards Lillinette before turning his head away as he glared at the forward wall, refusing to look at his "mother". As Cymic watched the scene, Sigurd only regarded him with a turn of his head. Taking a moment to fight against Jecht to cover his ears, Cymic finally began to speak in an accent that would have been far too familiar.
"Yer full of shit excuses, all to "justify" yer actions. Yer a shite mother. A rightful slut. Ye've let so many suffer as long as ye' came out on top, includin' yer best friends. It makes me wonder how much one has to hate themselves to subject themself to become a livin' ******. Ye' need to grow up, sunshine, cuz life's goin' to hit ye' in the face like a load of ****."
Azariah would let out a cold laugh as Cymic spoke, turning to look at him and giving him a small clap as she would bow at the waist in an overly dramatic manner. Moving his hands from Jecht's ears, Azariah would watch as the teen would just turn to look at Lillinette before turning on heel and moving to simply fade from view, leaving the others standing there. Cymic would pause as he watched Jecht leave, turning to point his hook at Lillinette as he all but growled.
"And if ye' ever lay those disgustin' hands on me child’s face again... I'll tear your tongue out? And shove it up yer arse."
Azariah just moved to hold her hands behind herself as she blinked while rocking in her boots, watching as Cymic would turn and leave from view. Looking down at Lillinette, she would smile cruelly as she watched the woman stare at the wall silently as once again memories of her past washed over her. From the abuse of Jecht, the hand in the murder of John, even the face of Sorien as the moor’s face disappeared beneath the waves; all the wrongs she had committed flashing in font of her eyes. Once again hearing the sounds of small feet all but dancing around her, the voices would once again taunt her.
"You really are scum aren't you? You think you are worth anything... That you mean anything to anyone? Of course not! A whore like you is only kept around for as long as you're useful to them! I bet you'd have no one in your life if you suddenly said no... All of them would walk out!~ Simply replace you. Because truly, how hard is it to replace the tavern whench?"
Azariah would have apparently taken a sense of joy from the whole endeavor as she watched her, laughing as her voice took on an almost sing-song tone to her as she moved to step forward from her post beside Sigurd, moving to crouch down behind her as she would put her hands on Lillinette's shoulders as she continued talking, her voice being a sharp whisper once again in the woman’s ear.
"That's right! You did beat that poor kid, didn't you? Poor little boy had even gotten use to the feeling as a child. The stinging pain from being slapped? He thought that it was what mothers did to their children! You know, I always wanted to be a mother just like you. Beating the little bastards keep them in line, doesn't it? Hmm... On my next child, if it's a little girl? I'll do just that! And I'll name it Lillinette and everything!"
Cackling, the woman would move to stand as she moved to push Lillinette forward, sending Lillinette further into the floor as she would make her way back over to stand at Sif's side. Her arms crossed, she would stop as the man would finally begin to speak, the familiar tone being one that sit heavy on Lillinette's mind.
"Your first mistake, other than being born, was the absolute consistent thought of just yourself. You have had no care for anyone other than your own vices and degenerate wishes and wants. The drama and horror play that is your life... is disappointing. There is no other word aside from such. The fact I dared try to waste my limited time upon this desolate plane only to witness the failure that is your attempt at living brings upon such a revolting taste in my mouth I wish not anything other than your death to wash it down. I've watched, listened, and heard tales and your own tongue plead out your case. The only consensus at the end is the same... each and every time. You're a failure. You've failed in your loves, you've failed your children, and you failed yourself. From the whoredom you hold to the cheating upon honorable men, your fallacies and grotesque consumption of lust and greed knows no bounds.”
By this point, Sif would merely shake his head, a cold humorless and mocking laugh left his black houndish helmet. Azariah would have just turned her head to look at Lillinette as she continued to smirk while the once teacher continued with his statement.
“Why I dare waste my breath. There is no reason to. Your confounded idiocracy flows outwards like a fountain of disease. I dare say, everything I've just said to you holds NOTHING in your mind. You've forgotten all of it through the drunken stupor of conceit you hold. Your son could not trust you, your betrothed could not trust you, and you could not even trust yourself. I wonder, Lillinette, why have you not simply ended it all? You shall amount to nothing, become nothing, and remain nothing. You say you are as old as my dear late friend, Scardrac... yet you hold not a sliver, nay a very faint ray, of wisdom nor experience he does. You failed in the one thing those of great year and age are to have, wisdom!”
The disgust in his voice turned apparent. From his usual monotone state, he had become something of pure disappointment. The more disappointed that he sound, the louder that the cackle from the moor beside him would become, almost as if feeding off of the now shame that came from Lillinette in waves as she kept herself close to the floor.
“My Gods... you are the monument to all your sins. There is nothing else in your life except yourself. That is how it began... that is how it will end. You shall die, alone, cold, and remembering back upon life with only yourself to blame. No... you won't ever come to that conclusion on your own, even in the face of your death. We're done here... leave my sight and never return until you've become something more than just aparasite upon the world and your family."
Lillinette's eyes locked onto her former teacher, a man who she believed that she could trust as much as her sister as she began to move closer to them as if to tempt them to end her there. Everything that the man had said was true, and the weight of her guilt and pride caused her to collapse to the floor. Her inner demons finally taking a full hold of her mind, the laughing and hoarse whispers of self degradation continued as Sigurd would have simply faded from view to only leave Azariah standing there. Stepping over one last time, Azariah would kneel down as she put her hand against Lillinette's face and turn it up to look at her with a sharp jerk. The joy on the woman's face from watching the suffering of the other had faded, a dark shadow covering her face that had seemed to warp to become almost demonic in nature. The warped voice seemed to only grow deeper as it spoke again.
"You've done nothing but kill, steal, and destroy. You are worse than any creature you've seen before summoned by Grief or any other. You are your own enemy, and your own life is your own doing. You feel guilt, but do you truly care? Or is it all just another show... Just another attempt to find someone to attach yourself like the true parasite you are? You heard Sigurd, and Cymic. Jecht wouldn't even speak to you... Should we call Andras in here as well? I wonder what he would think to see his beloved having turned into a true waste of air and flesh. Should we call Kharn? He might find joy in finding you in the state you are now after you broke his heart. You are nothing, Lillinette Le'Roux. Should you stop feeling guilty long enough... then those of us who are left in the wake of your carnage and destruction can only beg for you to take it upon yourself to leave this world seeing as how you're so very long overdue to do so."
She would all but toss her face against the floor as Azariah stood up, hissing a little as she would reach for the schiavona on her hip, slipping it from it's sheath before turning to glare down at the woman she once called sister as Lillinette waited for what she thought was the inevitable. With a sharp thrust towards the woman's stomach, Azariah would have plunged the sword deep into Lillinette's pregnant belly as she closed her eyes tightly, feeling a sharp pain within her stomach. As she reached down to lay her hand on her stomach, she felt the plate protecting her abdomen as a sudden jarring thought crossed her mind, her unborn child. The room began to fade, void of color when she opened her eyes as she was greeted by the familiar embrace of her fiance who had come to the room as he had heard her fall from her chair. The twisted visage of Azariah gone, the men who had showed up gone as well. The room being where she had started, her office. Turning her body to hide her face against his neck, she would begin to sob uncontrollably once more as she began to slowly explain to him what she had just seen.
Thank you The Courier and Cymic_ for your parts in the story and a special thank you to Asirel Luik for basically rewriting the entire thing and making it make sense.
Add a random boop Arken
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