[Millicent]
On that first evening, I just laid down on the floor of the main hall and wept until the fire was burned down to ashes, my body aching and confused by everything I was feeling. I hate Primus. Every part of me hates him. He trapped me here, bullied me, and treated me like another shiny bauble in his horde to put on display and put away whenever it pleased him. But then he also does these strangely kind things that baffle me because of how much consideration it shows he has in my regard. Things like sending me Leon or making that deal with me and only asking for a dance in exchange, how he listened when I asked him not to kill those men. He didn't need to do any of those things, but he did.
Why would he do these types of things for someone who means so lit
[Primus] Ona suggested I come clean with Carnelia, and tell her the truth about everything I might be hiding from her. To be “kind” to her. But how can I show her this kindness if she can’t be in the same room with me without being angry? If she ever chooses to be in the same room with me at all. She met her end of our agreement by allowing me to touch her, to dance with her, and now I am bound to do the same. Even if that means she never wants to see me again. I cannot say that I’d blame her if that was the choice she made. The way I left he
015: Landing [Millicent] Those eyes. There is so much anger in those eyes. Large green and glowing they hurt to look at. A roar carried by the wind speaks to me. Is it a warning or a threat? Grasping the window ledge, my heart pounding in my chest, I look back, focused on that malevolent gaze. The crystal of the window panes, covered in condensed dew, is almost too slick to grip. I move my hand a bit m
[Primus] She refuses to wake. Stubborn woman. Why is she always so stubborn? We have tended her wounds, fed her broth, and cleaned her body. She is fading away before my eyes and I do not know how to stop it. My Carnelia, once so full of life and fire now lies silent and still. Having this healer in my space is a violation. No one is allowed in my space. I can smell his hands on my things and it is taking every scrap of grace I have not to rip his fingers from his hands. Especially after he tends to her. I want to kill him for even looking at so much of her tender flesh. Despite his ministrations over several days
Before time as we know it, when the universe itself was freshly hatched, on a high mountain overlooking a deep valley, the drakaina of light, Oaestr, guarded a beautiful clutch that she had lain after joining with her mate, Nyxt, the shadow drake. In her nest were five unique eggs, each more beautiful than the last, with shells that glowed dully like captured stars. When hatching day arrived, Oaestr was filled with joy. At last, she would meet her new offspring, the first new dragons in this new world they had found. It was lonely by herself as Nyxt had gone off in search of other lands and adventures, and she was unable to follow as she could not leave their younglings behind until they were weaned and ready to hunt on their own. The first egg to hatch was a blue as bright as a robin's egg. When the young drake freed himself of his shell, he spread two feathered wings above his head and stretched his long neck. His voice was light and melodic and he quickly took to the sky, flyin
[Millicent] I am dark and cold. There is no light to see, so I feel around with my fingers. Where am I? There is something warm, slick, and hard beneath my hands. Beyond that something stirs. Impossibly large, it wraps itself around me. I know I am safe when I hear her humming. Her voice is beautiful, the melody low and deep calming me as I settle against her warmth… …There is heat. I am being carried, although the world is still dark around me. I miss the heat of that warm body as I am placed somewhere cold and dry. Cries of pain and roars of outrage boom in the darkness. I am afraid… …In the distance, I hear a man. He is crying, roaring in pain. I move toward the sound, but he is locked behind a wall of solid stone. Placing my hands and face against the stone I cry with him, even though I do not know why he weeps. “Let me in,” I beg, pounding on the wall. “Why won’t you let me in?” He replies not with words, but with the mournful cry of heartbreak… “...As she was about to
[Millicent] I am bubbling over with anger, even as his kiss sends tingles into every part of me, my body aching to respond to his touch. As he leans into me, I smell the fresh clean scent of soap, feel his clean hair tickling my cheeks, taste the fresh sweet taste of berries and cream on his mouth and I want so much for this to be real. I would have given anything to have Leon touch me in this way--like he wants me and cannot live without me. I've had a small crush on him since that first night he found me in the main hall, scared and alone. He was the one who picked me up and cared for me and dried my tears when Primus was done with me. A man who seemed to care for me when nobody else had ever shown me kindness. I could spend the rest of my life with Leon if he wanted me. This person sitting next to my bed is not Leon. Leon would never reach for me in this way. Leon would never be this bold. The imposter presses me closer to him, trying to deepen the kiss. I open my mouth
[Primus]Her beautiful golden eyes grow dark, hard, and cold as tears roll down her cheeks. “Get. Out.” she points at the door. “Carnelia I…” She shakes her head. She has no interest in hearing anything I have to say. “I never want to see you again,” her arm is unsteady and her whole body begins to shake. “I don’t care what face you are wearing,” her voice is still weak, strained from her illness. “I don’t want anything to do with you.” Each of those words feels like I am
[Millicent] “Hullo” an unfamiliar feminine voice calls from the other side of my stone wall. I choose to ignore it. I refuse to open my eyes right now. The person begins to bang on the door. Not knock, bang, like a sailor back from leave ordering beer at a tavern. someone raps at my door. “I know you are awake, I can hear it in breathing,” she explains as she continues to knock. “Can I please come in?” “No,” I moan. “I promise I’m not Primus.”