- Pronouns
- She/Her
CastleSuperbeast
Legend
I closed my eyes and wrote this in one sitting, it lost some steam towards the end. Elz Fronslin please let me know if Frost or Melarue say anything a bit out of character (though it is a dream) and I will rectify it.)
mood music
Artesia finished her last sip of tea, set down the cup, and got into her bed. With her modestly expensive pajama set and silk sheets she was at a level of maximum comfort, and yet she had an uneasy feeling she could not shake. She closed her eyes.
She opened her eyes and returned to Thiil. A dream, one that she was aware of, a rarity to her. Her robes grazed the familiar stone pathways, she could smell the aroma of the old flowers, she could picture in her mind the ones that watered and cared for them. Then she saw herself, younger, in her old clothes. She decided to follow herself and see what this dream was about, what memory it was a recollection of. She sped up, to catch up to where her old self went off to and found a scene she dreaded, a memory she had relieved countless times, and now again.
“Artesia, you generally make me uncomfortable.”
A voice, as if on the very edge of hearing, spoke “Good, very good…”
That was it, the last words that Aracena spoke to her. She saw herself running away from her, tears rolled down her cheeks, she tripped over the stone she once found familiar. She remembered how she felt, an unloved thing, unsure if she was even real when not being touched. “Please, don't abandon her, turn back and tell her you're sorry. Friends don't abandon each other…” she called out, as she had called out over and over again in this dream. Meaningless of course, this was nothing but a painful dream, a remembrance of an awful act. She would never see Aracena again, but perhaps the last time she had truly SAW her was the day before she got marked by that monster, that was the day Jishrim killed her, everything after that was the serrated knife slowly making its exit, spraying her innocent blood all over everyone and everything she cared about.
She watched herself run away, and turned to Aracena, the details of her face were… fading. She couldn't quite remember what her eyebrows looked like anymore. But those muddy green eyes, she couldn't forget them. Her hair was getting thin, bags were under her eyes, and her face was so bony. Artesia put out her hand and held her face, stroking her cheek with her thumb.
“I love every fiber of who you are, and everything in between as well. I'm so sorry, I should have come back. I will make sure he never does this to another person ever again. I swear.” The same thing again, the same planned line she said to her whenever she was in her dreams. Suffering can feel religious if you do it right. A tear rolled down her cheek as Aracena melted away, and all of Thiil faded to white.
She opened her eyes, the tear was still there. Ashstadt, ah yes, today was her meeting with Melarue, a day before the potluck. She got dressed and departed for the inn they agreed to meet in. She saw her there and called out. “Melarue! So nice to see you without so many others around!” Artesia grew closer and sat across from her, wondering if she should order tea, or some wine to match with Melarue, too nervous about what either could imply and how that could impact her friendship, no her… relationship with Melarue, she opted for neither. She hoped THAT would not have an impact.
“I am happy to see you as well.” Melarue spoke. She looked so planned, and yet so natural, and carried such a mysterious aura. Artesia desperately wanted to know this woman more.
“I have many things I wish to discuss, I hope none of them are too painful, if ever you wish to stop we-” Artesia stopped. Her face drained of all color, and she froze.
A tall, thin, black figure was behind Melarue, gently resting a tendril-like hand on her shoulder. “No! Please no! Leave her alone!” She screamed, standing up abruptly from her seat, Melarue’s wine glass spilling over. The black thing's hand slowly moved down her arm, hovering over her hand.
“Artesia? Are you alright? What's happening?” The thing's face had no features, no eyes, ears, or mouth, and yet Artesia could feel its eyes staring into her soul. Watch! Be afraid and cower! Do not even think of loving and I will take it all away! Over and over! This is punishment for your sin of leaving her!
“No! Don't do it! Take me instead, please I beg you!” The figure's void-like head contorted into a twisted smile, rows of black teeth sparkling in a red chasm. In a blink, it was gone. Artesia took a deep breath, her eyes slowly left Melarue’s, and went down to her hand, if only to confirm something she already knew. A black spider was on the back of her hand.
“?gniyas uoy era tahW ?no gniog stahw aisetrA”
“NO!”
-
She awoke, her breath heavy, her heart ready to burst out of her chest. She felt burning all over her skin, her spark sickness. What an awful nightmare. Frost ran down the stairs, in her own bedrobe. “Artesia what's going on, I heard a yell are you alright?”
Artesia nodded. “Just some nightmare, perhaps related to the sickness. I'm going to try to go back to sleep, perhaps we can speak of it in the morning…”
“Very well, Stars guide.”
“Mhm… walk in wisdom my fri-” No. Not again. He was there again, his tendrils wrapped around Frost. She screamed. “Nonononononono! Please don't!”
“Artesia what's happening?! Calm down!” The figure let out a sick laugh, its demon smile appearing again. And again, he was gone. The spider crawled out of Frosts sleeve, and sat right on the back of her hand.
“?enola em evael ot sdeen ohW ?gnineppah stahw ,aisetrA nwod mlac ot uoy deen I”
Artesia jolted awake. She was home. Was this still in a dream? She went downstairs to find her notes.
mood music
Artesia finished her last sip of tea, set down the cup, and got into her bed. With her modestly expensive pajama set and silk sheets she was at a level of maximum comfort, and yet she had an uneasy feeling she could not shake. She closed her eyes.
She opened her eyes and returned to Thiil. A dream, one that she was aware of, a rarity to her. Her robes grazed the familiar stone pathways, she could smell the aroma of the old flowers, she could picture in her mind the ones that watered and cared for them. Then she saw herself, younger, in her old clothes. She decided to follow herself and see what this dream was about, what memory it was a recollection of. She sped up, to catch up to where her old self went off to and found a scene she dreaded, a memory she had relieved countless times, and now again.
“Artesia, you generally make me uncomfortable.”
A voice, as if on the very edge of hearing, spoke “Good, very good…”
That was it, the last words that Aracena spoke to her. She saw herself running away from her, tears rolled down her cheeks, she tripped over the stone she once found familiar. She remembered how she felt, an unloved thing, unsure if she was even real when not being touched. “Please, don't abandon her, turn back and tell her you're sorry. Friends don't abandon each other…” she called out, as she had called out over and over again in this dream. Meaningless of course, this was nothing but a painful dream, a remembrance of an awful act. She would never see Aracena again, but perhaps the last time she had truly SAW her was the day before she got marked by that monster, that was the day Jishrim killed her, everything after that was the serrated knife slowly making its exit, spraying her innocent blood all over everyone and everything she cared about.
She watched herself run away, and turned to Aracena, the details of her face were… fading. She couldn't quite remember what her eyebrows looked like anymore. But those muddy green eyes, she couldn't forget them. Her hair was getting thin, bags were under her eyes, and her face was so bony. Artesia put out her hand and held her face, stroking her cheek with her thumb.
“I love every fiber of who you are, and everything in between as well. I'm so sorry, I should have come back. I will make sure he never does this to another person ever again. I swear.” The same thing again, the same planned line she said to her whenever she was in her dreams. Suffering can feel religious if you do it right. A tear rolled down her cheek as Aracena melted away, and all of Thiil faded to white.
She opened her eyes, the tear was still there. Ashstadt, ah yes, today was her meeting with Melarue, a day before the potluck. She got dressed and departed for the inn they agreed to meet in. She saw her there and called out. “Melarue! So nice to see you without so many others around!” Artesia grew closer and sat across from her, wondering if she should order tea, or some wine to match with Melarue, too nervous about what either could imply and how that could impact her friendship, no her… relationship with Melarue, she opted for neither. She hoped THAT would not have an impact.
“I am happy to see you as well.” Melarue spoke. She looked so planned, and yet so natural, and carried such a mysterious aura. Artesia desperately wanted to know this woman more.
“I have many things I wish to discuss, I hope none of them are too painful, if ever you wish to stop we-” Artesia stopped. Her face drained of all color, and she froze.
A tall, thin, black figure was behind Melarue, gently resting a tendril-like hand on her shoulder. “No! Please no! Leave her alone!” She screamed, standing up abruptly from her seat, Melarue’s wine glass spilling over. The black thing's hand slowly moved down her arm, hovering over her hand.
“Artesia? Are you alright? What's happening?” The thing's face had no features, no eyes, ears, or mouth, and yet Artesia could feel its eyes staring into her soul. Watch! Be afraid and cower! Do not even think of loving and I will take it all away! Over and over! This is punishment for your sin of leaving her!
“No! Don't do it! Take me instead, please I beg you!” The figure's void-like head contorted into a twisted smile, rows of black teeth sparkling in a red chasm. In a blink, it was gone. Artesia took a deep breath, her eyes slowly left Melarue’s, and went down to her hand, if only to confirm something she already knew. A black spider was on the back of her hand.
“?gniyas uoy era tahW ?no gniog stahw aisetrA”
“NO!”
-
She awoke, her breath heavy, her heart ready to burst out of her chest. She felt burning all over her skin, her spark sickness. What an awful nightmare. Frost ran down the stairs, in her own bedrobe. “Artesia what's going on, I heard a yell are you alright?”
Artesia nodded. “Just some nightmare, perhaps related to the sickness. I'm going to try to go back to sleep, perhaps we can speak of it in the morning…”
“Very well, Stars guide.”
“Mhm… walk in wisdom my fri-” No. Not again. He was there again, his tendrils wrapped around Frost. She screamed. “Nonononononono! Please don't!”
“Artesia what's happening?! Calm down!” The figure let out a sick laugh, its demon smile appearing again. And again, he was gone. The spider crawled out of Frosts sleeve, and sat right on the back of her hand.
“?enola em evael ot sdeen ohW ?gnineppah stahw ,aisetrA nwod mlac ot uoy deen I”
Artesia jolted awake. She was home. Was this still in a dream? She went downstairs to find her notes.
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