*My Secret Garden~

[Shio]

Fourth Cycle of Pontius
Twenty-Fifth Candlemark in the Darkening of Solaria
The Winter of Era I of the Celestine Mandate

The Forest of Light loomed before her, menacing in it blood-red bark, its coniferous needles as sharp as the spikes she held in her hand. Shio breathed deeply of the magic that infiltrated the air, the vaguely druidic, that necromantic essence that plagued her troubled mind. It would be all but impossible to concentrate here, and yet... Yet, the wickedness of the place, the deep rejection that it felt within its twisted heart, resonated with her in a way that nature never had, in a way that, perhaps, it never again would.

Inhale.

A sense of calm, of frenzy passed through her petite body with each breath, the conflicting emotions sending each digit, each limb into a restless state of agitation. Nall had to get away from the sweltering building in which she had been training... No, more like she had to get away from the constant, sensual presence of her weapons Mistriss. It was too much, at times, for the undeveloped child, for one, though not exactly innocent, unready for the perils of romance. Of bondage. Whatever she had gotten herself into, at least.

The metallic throwing spike thudded deeply into its wooden target, almost before the sound could even register in her sensitive ears. Deep, a crushing blow, just as the one she had delivered to the prone man... Her first kill. Shio shuddered, taking another three spikes from her belt purse and throwing them in rapid succession; overhand, underhand, sideways. Straight and twirling, fast and slow, the patterns changed with each flucuation of her painful headache.

A star pattern, the symbol of the heavens... The place to which a sinner such as herself would never be able to go. The young Kitrye'veresi, for she still held onto her name, no matter what she told her Mistress, frowned with dissatisfaction.

Thunk.

Her last spike landed in the epicenter of the star, breath coming heavily, a delicate sheen forming on her childlike brow. It would take a while to get used to this exercise... Hence her being in this infernal, this ethereal place... This land that threatened to consume her soul.



[[ooc: just a practice thread, though some PC interaction would be nice ^_^ I don't want this to drag on forever, so if you post pretty quickly, you're likely welcome to join.]]

[Shio]

One by one, the scintillating spikes, steel tipped with the finest of silver, fell to the loamy forest floor. Shio breathed deeply of its intoxicating scent, her head spinning, the thoughts of her mind crashing upon the banks of her consciousness like the waves on the shore. Orbs of clear aquamarine fixed upon the deep scars that she had left upon her portable wooden target -- the girl would never have the courage to wound one of those ominous trees, scrutinizing carefully their accuracy. The eyes... She had finally hit them correctly, it seemed, driving deeply enough to cause more than simple blindness.

A wicked, chesire smile spread across her delicate featers, the last needle spinning rapidly atwixt toned fingers. She had been taught well, no matter how much she was beginning to hate, even, to love her teacher, in some sickening way. After all, it was that rancid woman who had offered to become the girl's mother after practically violating her... Nall squinted her eyes shut in confusion, wiping her clammy palms off on her simple black trousers. No skin-tight leather, no nudity tonight. She had too much respect for her surroundings to do something like that, to reveal herself in such an unflattering way.

It made the white-haired shudder to think that she had even done so once, that she had overcome to the carnal desires that she had tried so hard to purge herself of... Shio took a few steps back, angrily throwing the spike that she had once so lovingly held in her hand, its brilliant balance quivering half way through the neck of the target. It was amazing, really, what anger could do, what power she could harness when the vile thing took over her body, her soul...

The fallen noble grimaced, her head hanging in shame, the frightening power suddenly draining from her emaciated form. What of all the things that she had left behind to choose this path, the way of the assassin, the way of which her hated family would have approved? The lowest form of acceptability... The trash of the upper class. Certainly, those who condoned her former goals would have recoiled in disgust at the events that had transpired over the last few days; it took all of Shio's willpower not to do so, herself.

Gently, as if carried by a tide, her mind wandered back to Vortex, back to the strangers that had deigned to help such a worthless abomination. Anastasia, Tanya, the half-elven man... Poor, dead Minhiriath, the one who had made the biggest difference in her life, the one who had given her what she had so actively sought: validity. Was it the woman's ghost that haunted her now, her bloody spirit looking for revenge, hurting the one who had done nothing to help her in her greatest time of need?

Shio looked despairingly towards the star-studded sky, its inky blackness casting a shadow over her infantile eyes, the ebony tears that trickled down her cheeks.

"Where are you now, Arwenamin?"

Ssss...

The spike hissed through the air, weaker this time, but more accurate. Shio saw the poison spread from its tip through the imaginary man's veins, its deadliness killing him slowly, softly.

Regrettably.

"Nae saian luume', Minhiriath."

Sut an?

Orn Usstan el 'zil al?

[Shio]

"...Dead?"

Shio whipped her head about, the ghostly image of the former Aedile swimming in her foggy vision. A mere wisp of humanity, a transparent specter that would have been called a dream, more than a ghost... But it, she was there nonetheless, hovering a few feet above the ground, oddly tangible eyes of stormy gray staring sternly down at her successor. Nall inhaled sharply, her whole body trembling with fear, smote by the obscene enigma of the supernatural. Children always hated ghosts, and the young official was no exception... Her mind raced along with her heart, beating against her chest like a barbarian on his drum.

"Who... No... Why!?" Shio started forward, reaching out a deathly pale hand that passed through the vision as if it were made out of air. Icy shivers raced down the snowy elf's spine, her pupils dilating into endless pools of ravenwing. The tears hadn't stopped flowing, their trails drying, refreshing upon the smoothness of her adolescent skin, paths upon which the legions of time walked, the flashes of her life gone by, her precious years wasted. Nall crumbled, her knees hitting the rain-softened ground, cool moistness calming violent purple bruises.

The heavenly image spread her arms wide, like wings, as if to embrace the tainted creature that lay so helplessly before her, the monstrosity who had done nothing to stop her supposed demise. Shio managed to tilt her face upwards, to take in the sight of this transformed Minhiriath, her serpent-like hair of faded gold billowing in an untouchable wind. The forest... It was the forest playing tricks on her, no doubt, but still... She was so captivated, so mesmerized by the image of the elven woman that her body seemed to be frozen, encased in ice, the desire to run ripping apart any cognizant thought that remained in her consciousness.

"A test... You gave me up for this strength, child... You must put your life on the line to face it. The first test, perhaps of many...

Tenna' ento lye omenta, Nwalmaer..."

Fading.

Shio grasped at the tendrils of fog, begging for her former mistress not to torment her so, accepting the fact that this was her fate... Carefully, she reached inside of herself, clutching at that which was almost lost, begging for the return of her innocence... Scorning the ignorance that came along with it.

A growl in the distance. The astral glow of red eyes, disembodied, spirit-world spinning...

Withdrawing a fresh spike from her cloak, Shio took a few steps forward, approaching those fearful, incessant beacons. Entering, perhaps, her last moments on Telath...

The sounds grew closer, paws cracking upon twigs and leaves, the heavy rhythm of animalistic breath.

Hellhound, I beckon ye, denizen of the Umblat, embrace me in thine arms. First I gave my pride, now my skin. Come and take what thou must.

[Shio]

Rrip.

Shio gasped as the hellhound loomed before her, its moon-bright fur in sharp contrast to the blood oozing through a gash in her skin. The sanguine fluid dripping from its crystal claws, its shards-of-ice teeth. Oblivion was approaching faster than it ever had, even in the temple of Haya, where the girl had sacrificed her own life's fluid upon the unholy altar... This was it, her courage had dwindled nearly to nothing, the last embers on the burned-out wick of a waxen candle.

It lunged at her again, vermillion maw agape, Shio just avoiding the attack by stumbling abruptly to the side. Her throwing needle trembled uselessly in weakened digits, curled about the object as if it were no more that an feather-light quill, not a subtle weapon of destruction. O, Jalat... Nall closed her eyes, feeling a heavy clawed paw swing just above her head, taking with it a few strands of paperwhite hair. The first test, and already she had failed, slipped into the repetitive pattern that her life had been following for so many long years... No matter what anyone said, no matter how they looked at her, Shio was no longer young, no longer a child.

At forty-four years of age, she was an adult, trapped in a body that no longer suited her, cursed with the perfect blood of her brethren, the divine taint that brought about such deadly visions... From Phedos... From Kaimelea... It was impossible to tell which god had decided to torment her so, she had offended so many.

Thud.

The monster's swipe hit the elf square in her chest, sending her flying, bone-thin back slamming against the stony embrace of an infuriated tree. Branches grasped at her hair, her hands, her ankles, ensnaring her in an inescapable net of dreaded nature. Shio struggled against her restraints with every remaining ounce of her strength, fear-filled eyes fixated upon the horrifying apparition that prowled closer with every passing moment. An infernal gleam in its hellfire eyes, breath reeking of brimstone, the cries of the damned spilled from behind its sharp teeth.

Mistress... The vision of the Cyraxian woman in all her fearful beauty loomed in the eye of Shio's mind, filling her senses with the master's intoxicating presence. With the primordial desires that she had felt during their endless sessions, the nonchalance with which she had killed that helpless man... His blood, his blood, she could remember the way it drenched her body, encrusted her hair like a crown of rubies, the way that it washed away with nothing but water, as if his last moments were never there. As if he didn't deserve to exist at all.

The absolute power she had felt... It was here, in the darkness. Nall slammed her iron spike into the bark of the tree, its cry reverberating through her body, its sticky sap gluing the painful instrument to her fingers. Slowly, it retreated, boughs curling in upon itself as if in an embrace, a cocoon of healing and anger, rejection, the place in which the girl had so recently been. Angrily, Shio jerked her defense from the screaming bark, throwing it overhand, with all her might, at the approaching dreadwolf.

Over and over it turned through the startled air before landing, with a satisfying crack, in her enemies skull. The creature landed on the forest floor with a thud, eyes glazed over, brains and blood drizzling through the gaping hole in the hollow cathedral of its skull. Nall crouched there panting, her hands on her knees, as she watched it dissolve into mist, into the air from whence it had formed. "Minhiriath!," she called triumphantly, the ghost materializing like smoke on the horizon.