Alailanible
Sparkly purple member of the team
(First part of Alaila's story is here)
The shift
It has been quite a while since I wrote anything... mostly because my life has been twisted and turned in so many ways that I hardly find the time to sleep, yet alone write.
Some of the turns were good, some of the twists were very bad...
I finally found my way home, completely on accident and discovered why I was so lost... a creeper blew up in the pig snout mountain and now it just looks like the back of a skellies head. I must have walked by it at least a 2 or 3 times and I did not even realized how close to home I was.
I didn't get to spend that much time with my parents because I was needed at Witched Brew: a town that has been passed down from generation to generation in my family. My qualifications to run a town: red hair and green eyes.
No, I am not kidding.
This town was build on blessed grounds and people believe that the place will be protected and prosper as long as it's kept by a descendant of the couple that first built the place: Aurora and Eric.
Now, Aurora and Eric are my great-great-great grandparents and they had a daughter that they named after the witch that blesses those lands: Alana.
The child had her mother's red hair and her father's green eyes and the witch proclaimed that she would always watch over her legacy as long as she could see the couple's essence in the keeper and from that day forward the town was passed on to the first child in each generation that looked like Alana.
First was Alana's daughter: Alaris.
Then my grandfather Aladrian.
Then my aunt Alavia.
And you know where this story ends: with a clueless Alaila that should have been fulfilling her duties for quite sometime but got lost on her way.
You would think that running a town would keep me busy enough to keep out of any more trouble... but no.
Somehow, shortly after I moved to Witches Brew I found the time to fall in love.
His name was Chunk and he was the kindest elf I have ever met... He felt safe and steady and I let go of all of my fears about broken hearts when he held me in his arms. I honestly believed that nothing could go wrong this time.
Sadly life had other plans.
Shortly after we were engaged Chunk started disappearing for long periods of time. A week. Two moons. A season.
At first I thought he was on these big hunting trips. It came as a shock when he told me he belonged to an elven organization that had trained him since he was a little boy and that it was his life-long duty to go on very dangerous, very secrete missions.
And that was the only information I was given before he disappeared again, this time longer than ever before.
I searched everywhere... I had the Uthrandir Guard looking for him though all the Northern Kingdoms, we even went to the Nether... nothing.
Not even the trinket sir Bellon had given me could reach him... until one day, about 4 seasons later, when I heard a faint voice.
He was found in the desert between Withes Brew and his home, half dead, covered in blood.
If it was not for Uthrandir's healers I doubt he would have made it.
For some few brief moments I thought that would be the end of it. He was going to get better, he was going to go back to his old self and we were going to be a boring happy couple.
I should have known better...
When something is in your blood, when you hold an ideal or a duty above all else... you can't just walk away from it to play house, no matter how much you care about someone.
Surely enough as soon as he was able to walk, he said goodbye and disappeared again.
I never saw him again... I don't think I ever will. And the only proof of his existence in my life that I have is an evil apprentice squatting in the desert, waiting for him to return so that he can avenge his dead master and pestering me with hairy spiders in the meantime...
I have figure it out: it's a curse.
Really!
If you want someone gone.. well, just find a way to get him engaged to me and your work is done.
First Kai, then Chunk... you would think " oh, she learned her lesson and will stick to cooking from now on".
Not exactly...
But I have pestered you enough with tales of broken hearts.
Lets move on to tales of broken bones, shall we?
You see... I have had my share of them lately.
I was attacked in the Southern Wilds three times already and if my love life was not proof enough that I don't learn my lessons, this should shed some light in my dusty brain.
The first time I was tricked by a man that spoke to me of dangerous bandits. He said he was part of a group of people keeping the wilds safe and after I offered some food for the cause he offered to escort me to safety.
I followed him and he gave me a precious advice as he turned around, sword in his hand and a sadistic smile on his face: "Never trust a man in diamond armor".
I should have listened... Maybe that would have saved me from the next too attacks.
But with betrayal from strangers I can deal with.
Eventually I moved past the fear of getting out of Witches Brew and I even managed to venture to the Southern Wilds again... but when the betrayal comes from those near to you, the world gets a bit darker.
I know, people tell me all the time that I am too trusting... I know I am. But there are... were a few people that I thought completely deserved the blind trust I put in them.
I found out the worst way how wrong I was...
I didn't even thought twice when sir Aux asked me to go and help him with something. I didn't even thought it was strange that he wanted my help in Bane.
When I heard him and Shadowmalls talking about needing a virgin sacrifice, I just assumed it was some sort of sick joke... well... that is until they set me on fire. That finally convinced me otherwise.
There is something about flames crawling on your flesh that voids time of it's meaning. I can't even tell you what exactly was going on or who were the other people watching... the images flee my mind when I play them back.
But I do remember Wicca. My wolf was smarter than I am and must have sensed danger so she accompanied me... And I remember begging them to leave her alone. And I remember very clearly them pushing her to the fire as I watched.
She was dead in a matter of seconds.
I just grabbed the orb sir Bellon gave me and the next thing I new I was at the hands of the sisterhood.
There is not a mark on my skin from where the flames burned through my flesh... but the image of Wicca in that fire will forever be burnt in my mind.
I have to be honest.
I wanted to crawl in a hole and never trust a single soul again.
But what good would that do?
Why should I give them the satisfaction of changing my reality?
The way I see it there are two options for dealing with the fact that , yes, there are mean people in this world:
1- Hide away, trust no-one, go nowhere and pray they don't come to you.
2- Be prepared for at least put up a good fight when something like this happens next.
Before I would probably argue that there was a 3rd option: forgive and forget and give them the chance to redeem themselves...
Before I would think that setting fire on them to see how they like it was just carying on with the violence and not the answer...
Before the idea of being able to send an arrow flying straight through someone's eye would send shivers up my spine...
Before I would be appalled at the idea of learning how to slash open someone's belly...
Before I would have wanted to work thing out over some cake...
Before I would not think of revenge... but they killed my wolf.
The shift
It has been quite a while since I wrote anything... mostly because my life has been twisted and turned in so many ways that I hardly find the time to sleep, yet alone write.
Some of the turns were good, some of the twists were very bad...
I finally found my way home, completely on accident and discovered why I was so lost... a creeper blew up in the pig snout mountain and now it just looks like the back of a skellies head. I must have walked by it at least a 2 or 3 times and I did not even realized how close to home I was.
I didn't get to spend that much time with my parents because I was needed at Witched Brew: a town that has been passed down from generation to generation in my family. My qualifications to run a town: red hair and green eyes.
No, I am not kidding.
This town was build on blessed grounds and people believe that the place will be protected and prosper as long as it's kept by a descendant of the couple that first built the place: Aurora and Eric.
Now, Aurora and Eric are my great-great-great grandparents and they had a daughter that they named after the witch that blesses those lands: Alana.
The child had her mother's red hair and her father's green eyes and the witch proclaimed that she would always watch over her legacy as long as she could see the couple's essence in the keeper and from that day forward the town was passed on to the first child in each generation that looked like Alana.
First was Alana's daughter: Alaris.
Then my grandfather Aladrian.
Then my aunt Alavia.
And you know where this story ends: with a clueless Alaila that should have been fulfilling her duties for quite sometime but got lost on her way.
You would think that running a town would keep me busy enough to keep out of any more trouble... but no.
Somehow, shortly after I moved to Witches Brew I found the time to fall in love.
His name was Chunk and he was the kindest elf I have ever met... He felt safe and steady and I let go of all of my fears about broken hearts when he held me in his arms. I honestly believed that nothing could go wrong this time.
Sadly life had other plans.
Shortly after we were engaged Chunk started disappearing for long periods of time. A week. Two moons. A season.
At first I thought he was on these big hunting trips. It came as a shock when he told me he belonged to an elven organization that had trained him since he was a little boy and that it was his life-long duty to go on very dangerous, very secrete missions.
And that was the only information I was given before he disappeared again, this time longer than ever before.
I searched everywhere... I had the Uthrandir Guard looking for him though all the Northern Kingdoms, we even went to the Nether... nothing.
Not even the trinket sir Bellon had given me could reach him... until one day, about 4 seasons later, when I heard a faint voice.
He was found in the desert between Withes Brew and his home, half dead, covered in blood.
If it was not for Uthrandir's healers I doubt he would have made it.
For some few brief moments I thought that would be the end of it. He was going to get better, he was going to go back to his old self and we were going to be a boring happy couple.
I should have known better...
When something is in your blood, when you hold an ideal or a duty above all else... you can't just walk away from it to play house, no matter how much you care about someone.
Surely enough as soon as he was able to walk, he said goodbye and disappeared again.
I never saw him again... I don't think I ever will. And the only proof of his existence in my life that I have is an evil apprentice squatting in the desert, waiting for him to return so that he can avenge his dead master and pestering me with hairy spiders in the meantime...
I have figure it out: it's a curse.
Really!
If you want someone gone.. well, just find a way to get him engaged to me and your work is done.
First Kai, then Chunk... you would think " oh, she learned her lesson and will stick to cooking from now on".
Not exactly...
But I have pestered you enough with tales of broken hearts.
Lets move on to tales of broken bones, shall we?
You see... I have had my share of them lately.
I was attacked in the Southern Wilds three times already and if my love life was not proof enough that I don't learn my lessons, this should shed some light in my dusty brain.
The first time I was tricked by a man that spoke to me of dangerous bandits. He said he was part of a group of people keeping the wilds safe and after I offered some food for the cause he offered to escort me to safety.
I followed him and he gave me a precious advice as he turned around, sword in his hand and a sadistic smile on his face: "Never trust a man in diamond armor".
I should have listened... Maybe that would have saved me from the next too attacks.
But with betrayal from strangers I can deal with.
Eventually I moved past the fear of getting out of Witches Brew and I even managed to venture to the Southern Wilds again... but when the betrayal comes from those near to you, the world gets a bit darker.
I know, people tell me all the time that I am too trusting... I know I am. But there are... were a few people that I thought completely deserved the blind trust I put in them.
I found out the worst way how wrong I was...
I didn't even thought twice when sir Aux asked me to go and help him with something. I didn't even thought it was strange that he wanted my help in Bane.
When I heard him and Shadowmalls talking about needing a virgin sacrifice, I just assumed it was some sort of sick joke... well... that is until they set me on fire. That finally convinced me otherwise.
There is something about flames crawling on your flesh that voids time of it's meaning. I can't even tell you what exactly was going on or who were the other people watching... the images flee my mind when I play them back.
But I do remember Wicca. My wolf was smarter than I am and must have sensed danger so she accompanied me... And I remember begging them to leave her alone. And I remember very clearly them pushing her to the fire as I watched.
She was dead in a matter of seconds.
I just grabbed the orb sir Bellon gave me and the next thing I new I was at the hands of the sisterhood.
There is not a mark on my skin from where the flames burned through my flesh... but the image of Wicca in that fire will forever be burnt in my mind.
I have to be honest.
I wanted to crawl in a hole and never trust a single soul again.
But what good would that do?
Why should I give them the satisfaction of changing my reality?
The way I see it there are two options for dealing with the fact that , yes, there are mean people in this world:
1- Hide away, trust no-one, go nowhere and pray they don't come to you.
2- Be prepared for at least put up a good fight when something like this happens next.
Before I would probably argue that there was a 3rd option: forgive and forget and give them the chance to redeem themselves...
Before I would think that setting fire on them to see how they like it was just carying on with the violence and not the answer...
Before the idea of being able to send an arrow flying straight through someone's eye would send shivers up my spine...
Before I would be appalled at the idea of learning how to slash open someone's belly...
Before I would have wanted to work thing out over some cake...
Before I would not think of revenge... but they killed my wolf.
