#februaryday62024

DWC- Day 6- Vanity/Feelings CW: Some blood and brutality at the very end

They stood intertwined in Ashenvale, each wrapped in the other's embrace, their significance to one another palpable. Perched nearby amidst the ruins were two ravens, exuding a mysterious void-like aura. Leo held his mysterious paramour close—a masked woman he'd encountered at a masquerade only a month or two prior. Since then, they had met in clandestine disguises, concealing their true identities from each other. Yet, their emotions had blossomed undeterred.

Masked and locked in an affectionate embrace, Leo's new love, known as "Mirage," whispered tender words to him, "I am glad that I have earned a place within your heart. For you surely have earned a safe haven within mine."

"I can only hope to do my place within your heart justice."

"But you already have, My Liege."

"What made you think you can trust me? And let me in? You haven't seen my face."

"Why would I need to see your face to see you? To truly see you? I know what you have given to me, I know how you've made me feel. I need nothing else from you beyond that. It matters not how you appear, but it matters more what kind of person you are."

Leo stood there, stunned by her words. His entire existence had been built upon the premise of presenting the best version of himself, primarily through his appearance. His face was his tool, his weapon—it was what drew people in, whether they were potential lovers or potential adversaries. It was all he believed he had.

All he had.

Yet, in that moment, the woman in his arms had shattered that belief by suggesting that he was lovable beyond his face.

As always, just when things seemed to be going well, and genuine affection was being offered to him, the voices started. It was the madness that came with the touch of the void, a constant internal struggle that he grappled with daily. Some days were easier to bear than others.

But today, the void seemed determined to triumph.

Leo staggered backward, his hands clutching his head as if trying to fend off the onslaught of voices and doubts that threatened to consume him.

Lies. You know you aren't worth anything without your face, your body. You will always be a tool of satisfaction and nothing more. You know this won't last. They all leave, they always do. She'll leave and so will all the others. It is only a matter of time..

The cacophony of voices, spanning all ranges, relentlessly battered Leo's mind, causing him physical anguish as he struggled to combat them. In the midst of this turmoil, the only respite came from the mental connection he shared with his spouse through their soulbind. Trist's soothing voice flooded his consciousness, bringing a sense of calm amidst the storm.

"Focus on her here my love she had no reason to lie. You are a King. A lord. You're a leige because of your darkness and your passion but she speaks. Truth because there is no reason to lie to a fantasy." Trist's voice had always served as a balm, something to ease even the darkest of Leo's moments.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!!" In real-time, Leo let out a primal roar directed at Mirage, a warning as the inner dialogue continued to communicate with his spouse. He understood the precariousness of the situation, knowing all too well that things could spiral out of control in the blink of an eye.

Despite the relentless resistance put up by the darkest aspects of Leo's psyche, Trist remained a steadfast source of reassurance, "I am here for you my dark god."

As Leo felt himself losing grip on every fragment of his being, sinking further into the abyss of madness, an unexpected relief washed over him. The voices, once tumultuous and overpowering, began to subside, their relentless pursuit of his psyche relenting.

However, it was a fleeting reprieve. Before he could fully grasp this newfound calm, Mirage, having witnessed Leo's descent into madness, took drastic action. With a forceful display of her own void powers, she bound him to a nearby pillar with aggressive determination.

The moment Leo's back collided with the pillar, the world around him plunged into darkness, enveloping him in its ominous embrace.

And all went black...

Minutes later, Leo regained consciousness, only to find himself sprawled on the ground, consumed by agony. His skin was charred, and it felt as though fire raged within him. A deep gash marred his right bicep, and his clothes hung in tatters. His once-fair skin now bore a hue as black as the night sky, shimmering with an ethereal starlight.

Art by SCHUREIZEG on YCH.Commishes

Beside him lay his lover, similarly transformed and bearing multiple wounds from the ordeal- mauled and bloody. Her beautiful dress had been in strips and torn to pieces. Though battered and bruised, she was alive, her breaths a testament to her survival.

What have I done?

February 23, 2024 Daily Writing Challenge, Day 6 Vanity/Feelings

Fiorenze had always been vain, and not at all shy about that fact either. It was important to be beautiful, vivacious and charming. In a society of pretty elves, one had to still stand out and her family had made sure that she had the best products and people that money could buy to take care of her hair, nails, skin, tailoring, jewelry, shapewear and perfumes. 

The point was to get attention. Win over a husband. Mollify her marks and coax out the information the Magistry wanted. She had checked all the boxes, did everything she was supposed to, and still lost everything anyway.

Her hands had always stayed so soft, and healers had always been on hand to smooth away any potential scars. There were always other people to do manual labor so she could relax and hold court, leaving her with supple curves and little muscle. 

But that was then, and this was now. 

The first scar had been a cut made to her forearm last year when her body hadn’t been her own. Months at the mercenary camp had slimmed her down and filled her out in different ways. There was no one to do her hair but herself, and her normally curated brunette and white curls had bloomed into a, still brushed and maintained, frizz that had to be pulled back the majority of the time. 

Her first tattoo had been small, months ago after a gentle conversation with Dicenne about trying new things. A little ranunculus flower at the top of her shoulder, right over the deltoid that had started to make itself known, and easy enough to cover up. 

It was soothing in its own way to listen to the little ink gun hum as her artist worked now, joining the previous work to a much more robust bramble sleeve that wound delicately down to her elbow, the scales of a snake peeked through the petals, pomegranates and leaves that would eventually take on bright colors. 

At the end of the session, she certainly felt a peculiar kind of way about the woman in the mirror. Still tall and terribly fair, but a bit more sunkissed and wild and a little less perfect. She would always be beautiful, just in a different way.

Tinnaire kept a small workshop in Silvermoon, but, truthfully, it was only a front for vanity. In most cool accounting judgements, she did not currently make enough income from her art to justify the expense. Still, she kept it for more than one reason that may not have been fully clear at  first glance.

One. She loved her work, but did not want to be completely defined by it. Keeping it separate from her home seemed not just a luxury but a necessity when she was restarting her life over alone.

Two. It gave her somewhere to go. Tinn had lost friends and functions when she had divorced. At first it had been too easy to stay home. To wallow and grow stagnant. Having to leave the apartment to work on her art had been a blessing.

Three. Home was curated. Home was lovely and ordered  (don’t look at the kitchen!). Home was a sanctuary. Work? Work was a playground. Work was chaos and densely packed  crates full of treasures, all organized in ways only she could ever navigate. Work was quirky and dusty and always changing. Work was organic when home was cultured. She wanted--needed--both. She was multifaceted.

Four. Customers were not always friends and she didn’t want to invite them into her home. This kept her with a postal code that could be more public.

Five. She liked it!

He could not move. No matter how he struggled, the binding wrapped around him locked arms to his sides and held his feet dangling helplessly below clear of the ground. How reckless, to have been distracted by some ice parlor trick, a mere smokescreen!

The insult of it all, to have been so close to victory, but have it snatched away!

“Return to your timeline. There is nothing here for you. I am…” A pause, and the infuriatingly perfect image before him continued, “I am sorry.”

I am sorry. He had been about to utter those words himself, seeing this man just a moment before in the grip of shadowflame’s sting. Infuriatingly perfect as he was, he did not deserve to die. It simply had to be this way.

He was, certainly, sorry. For what he intended to do, yes, for his intent to take this man’s life – this perfect image’s life – and replace him, but was it also not sorrow for himself?

He had tried to put his feelings aside, had joined the Dragonscale Expedition, hoping beyond hope that it might be a lifeline, a thread to cling to and drag himself from the abyss. Theras was dead and gone, hurled into the Maw, soul shattered no doubt, never again to feel, never able to truly grow up. Jaskian, too, was gone. She still lived, yes, but could not bear to see the depths to which Luminash had sunk. For the best, he reflected, letting his counterpart’s sorrow linger between them a moment more. He could not bear to see what his falling had done to Jaskian, either.

Fatefully, he and this other perfect image had both meddled in Eon’s Fringe. While this other aligned himself with the Bronzes, Luminash had fallen further into the dark, no shimmer of brazen scales to light the way out.

Then, Zaralek. In a fit of feeling, he had sought to aid Niffen when Fyrakk burned his swathe across the cavern, perhaps a moment he could have been proud of, another desperate, clawing attempt to become himself again. What had it gotten him?

His eyes flickered down to his charred skin, black and blistering. The other one did not have anything to show for Niffen’s safety, no scars, no pain. Why did he deserve such a full life? Why did Luminash not?

“What say you?” Another question from this perfect image. On his face, a look of concern, though he seemed as if he was trying to hide it. Can one ever hide from oneself, though?

Luminash let his head – the only part of him he could move – drop, let his eyes close. What little vanity he had left would not let him look upon this reflection any longer, the reflection he still saw in the mirror before his senses caught up and showed him the truth. “I say…” The former magister sighed, “There is nothing there for me either.”

"Minn'da, what are you doing?" The young girl asked her mother who sat upon her vanity mirror, brushing her long black hair. She reached up trying to grab the other large brush so she too could brush her own hair. "Zari, dear, You can't reach that! Here- Let me just-" Leandra laughed loudly, grabbing hold of Zaria and setting her upon the vanity. The giggling young girl beamed up at her mother finally reached for the brush and attempted to mimic her mother. "Men, dearest Zari, want a woman who appears perfect. So we must -never- slouch, slurp our food, lap up our drinks. We are to be the epitome of perfection in their eyes." Leandra said. "What is a pit-o-me?" Zariasona asked, trying her best to use the oversized brush to tend to her hair. Leandra laughed loudly at her attempted saying of the word. "In otherwords, We are to be the definition of perfection. We are to be perfect women in the eyes of men."

Zaria nodded up at her vigourously. "I can do that, Minn'da. I want to be just like you when I get big!" The mother nodded excitedly. "I know you will, dearest child. You, and your sisters, will grow up and become the -finest- women in Quel'thalas. You, and Sissy, and Kinnie. Men will fawn all over you, and I am sure you'll have to bat them off with sticks!" She was now howling in laughter. It wasn't long before the other two younger girls barreled into the room. "Minn'da!! Kinnie is hitting me again!!" Sisendra howled out. "I am not, Sissy! I was just trying to brush your hair!" Kinadra said. Leandra sighed deeply. "Girls, Girls! Calm down! Please don't be fighting! It's so unladylike!" In unison the girls spoke: "Yes Minn'da." Leandra nodded approvingly, setting Zaria back down upon the ground. "Tomorrow, Ladies, we'll learn some more about what it means to be of noble blood. More ettiquette, alright? We'll do tea." The three sisters jumped in joy, and freely offered their giggles. In sporadic moments, the girls uttered a final, "Thank you, Minn'da!"

Knees fall upon the sand as Kai turns her face up to the stars above. Tears streaming down her cheeks. Shoulders shook while she leaned over and her arms wrap around her stomach. A letter lay resting next to her. They had found her. Arianna's body had finally been found. Her best friend, the one who had given up her own life so Kai could break free from the grip of her father.

Not a day goes by that Kai didn't think about her. They had become best friends growing up in Booty Bay, their love for each other was that of sisters. Their hopes and dreams shared between the two, laughter filling the town as they caused so much mischief.

She always blamed herself for Aria's death. Sobs rocked her body, the waves of the ocean crashing around her legs as if trying to wash away her sorrows. "Kai, do not cry. I'm at peace." Her whole body tenses up as she glances up to the sky. Suddenly a hand appears before her. Was she dreaming? "Aria?..." she sits up as a vision of her best friend stood before her.

"My poor sweet Kai. Please don't blame yourself. I choose that path. Now we are both free of all the pain, anger and sadness. Look at you, who you've become. I'm so proud of you. You need to finally forgive yourself. I'm here for you. It's okay. You can let go."

Kai found herself leaning into the cold touch of Aria's hand against her cheek. "I am so sorry.." she whispered. The feelings of guilt she had been holding on to for so many years finally lifted from her heart and soul as she threw her head back and screams until she could no longer scream or cry. Shoulders slump as she looks to the moon. Aria's spirit was gone, but she felt her close by.

For the first time in over six years, Kai felt peace settle into her heart. She would always miss Aria, but now she could finally move on from her past. Kai stands and turns, smiling as she looks up at Chi'u, who was holding out her hand. "I'm ready." she tells her as she takes Chi'u's hand.

Tell me you need me

Hold my hand, everything will be okay I heard from the heavens that clouds have been grey Pull me close, wrap me in your aching arms I see that you're hurtin', why'd you take so long

To tell me you need me? I see that you're bleeding You don't need to show me again But if you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you I won't let go 'til the end

So cry tonight But don't you let go of my hand You can cry every last tear I won't leave 'til I understand Promise me, just hold my hand

Raise your head, look into my wishful eyes That fear that's inside you will lift, give it time I can see everything you're blind to now Your prayers will be answered, let God whisper how

To tell me you need me, I see that you're bleeding You don't need to show me again But if you decide to, I'll ride in this life with you I won't let go 'til the end

So cry tonight But don't you let go of my hand You can cry every last tear I won't leave 'til I understand Promise you'll just hold my hand

Hold my hand, hold my Hold my hand, my hand I'll be right here, hold my hand Hold my hand, hold my Hold my hand, my hand I'll be right here, hold my hand

I know you're scared and your pain is imperfect But don't you give up on yourself I've heard a story, a girl, she once told me That I would be happy again

Hold my hand Hold my hand Hold my hand, hold my hand Hold my hand, hold my hand Hold my hand I heard from the heavens

Lady Gaga - Hold My Hand.

Continued from... Day 3 Bargain Day 4  Satisfaction Day 5 Altruistic

As the last door opened, it scraped the floor; she stepped inside to find a trembling woman huddled in the corner. "It is okay. You are going to be okay." She tried to make her voice sound soft and soothing. "I am here to help you. Can you stand on your own?"

The woman's hair was in her face, so Ellissay couldn't quite make out her features. The woman stood slowly, her legs shaking as she moved to stand up. She was like the others, skin and bones, but unlike the others, there seemed something different about her. On her wrists were bracelets that glowed a soft blue. Magical restraints, Ellissay realized, meant to keep her from casting. She couldn't tell by looking at her what type of magic it was preventing.

Ellissay steps closer and reaches out to move the hair out of the woman's face. The woman recoils as if she is about to hit her. Ellissay makes a soft, shushing noise in hopes of calming her. "I am just going to pull the hair out of your eyes. Okay?" The woman nods softly at her words, and she reaches up and moves the strands before she stares openmouthed at the woman whose purple eyes seem almost dull. "What is your name?"

The woman raises her head and stares at Ellissay momentarily, unsure if she can trust her. "I…I am not sure. I..I don't know how I got here." Tears spring to the woman's eyes and make tracks as they fall down her dirty cheeks. Her body shakes with her sobs, and Ellissay reaches out, takes the woman into her arms, and holds her gently for a moment. "It's okay, it's okay, we will figure it out." And Ellissay meant it. She wasn't sure how to figure it out, but she would find somebody who could.

Shiloh had returned, and he stood in the doorway, letting her have the moment with the woman. Ellissay couldn't help the tears that came to her eyes. She usually didn't let her emotions get the better of her, but perhaps the night's events had taken their toll on her.

They would have to figure out how to get the shackles off of the woman, but that would be for someone else to figure out; Ellissay didn't have that skill or understanding.

They made their way back outside, escorting the woman to their medical and healing team. Ellissay swayed a few times, reminding herself she could use healing or medical care. Her head felt as if it might explode by now, and she felt a bit nauseous.

Ellissay sees Elu coming over. "I take it all the prisoners were released and are being taken care of?" Elu looks from Ellissay to her brother as he speaks.

Shiloh nods at his sister. "All accounted for and one extra. The last woman we pulled out wasn't in our intel. She has magical restraints on her wrists. She doesn't seem to know who she is or how she got here."

Ellissay takes a deep breath and winces. Elu furrows her brow. "You are in hurt and in pain." Shiloh turns toward her and shakes his head, looking concerned. "Go get yourself checked out. You look as if you might faint at any given moment." He pointed to where the healer and medics were checking out the women held prisoner. Ellissay starts to protest but looks at Elu and thinks better of it. She nods in understanding and walks in that direction while Elu and Shiloh continue talking.

Ellissay notices the woman in the magical restraints as she approaches the medical team. She couldn't help but feel there was something about the woman, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Perhaps she would figure it out after she got her head treated. Right now, she was exhausted and could barely think.