[Flashback] Fix You (Solo)

Naama finds solace from her mourning in the form of her sister.

(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy role play forums. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)

Taloba, home to the Myrians, is the thriving core of Falyndar. Inhabited by a fierce and savage tribe where blood sacrifices are normal and a way of life, they are untamed and proud of it. Warlike, and with their numbers growing, the Myrians are set on reclaiming what is rightfully theirs. [Lore]

[Flashback] Fix You (Solo)

Postby Naama on November 28th, 2011, 9:13 pm

60th of Fall 508AV

Soft tears trailed down the child's face. Azure drops of a pained sorrow, unspoken. Silent. Those dark eyes, ever bright and full of innocent joy, of simple peace, shattered. Naama touched her daughter's face, wiping the wet from her tawny cheeks.

"Why do you cry, Kohi? I'm here, my little one, your mother is here to protect you."

The child's round lips opened into an abominable abyss, a scream that froze her heart. From the depths of her mouth rose a snake, long and pale, with eyes that burned crimson. There was a cruel hissing laughter as Naama released her child as if she'd been viciously burned, watching in stunned horror as the creature contorted and warped itself in her daughter's body, rising in the form of a ghostly woman.

"You failed them," The cruel lips murmured, "You failed your Goddess-Queen, you failed your family. You are nothing."

"No!" Naama cried, stepping away from the monster, only to find herself cornered in a ring of dark, bloody trees. From the branches hung a man struggling for life, hoisted by the powerful body of a serpent that held him in its merciless, coiled grip. The creature tightened its hold, crushing the Myrian's chest, sending blood spurting from his mouth. "Neum, NO!" Naama collapsed onto the floor, dark crimson waters rising around her, lapping at her legs, then her waist, then her chest, threatening to consume her whole.

"I will save you," She cried, as her mouth swallowed the red waters, the waves rising above her head.

"I will save you...."


She awoke with a start, sweat beading along her forehead. The room was dark, warm from the heat of bodies, the ornamental skulls on the walls the only things she could discern in the gloom.

"Naama?" The voice came from beside her, gentle and concerned, "Are you alright?"

"Yes." She murmured, touching a hand to her temple, trying to stem the tide of images that flooded her mind. Macabre things that she only wanted erased from existence. "It was just a bad dream." A hand reached out from the dark, a comforting gesture on her shoulder.

"If you need me, I'm here for you, sister." The halfbreed sat up, slipping the pelts from her legs and stood to make for the door.

"Where are you going?" Niobe called quietly.

"I need some air."

The cool breeze was a welcome relief to the humid night that accompanied it. Dawn was approaching, as the first rays of light slipped beyond the horizon to garnish the obsidian sky with a soft glow. The rows of longhouses stretched beyond what she could see, but the half-breed knew that families slept there. Women warriors with their own daughters and their own mates, safe and warm and whole. And what was she? A broken woman, with wounds that still burned in her skin and a mind left raw by the images she endured.

If only I had tears yet to give.

"Don't feel sorrow, sister," Niobe came up from behind, wrapped in a pelt. She glanced up at the waning moon, a pretty thing, with cascading ebony hair and bright hazel eyes. There were no scars yet that marred her clean, tawny skin, but she was still young. "They are with the Goddess-Queen, the greatest honor."

"I would rather they be here with me, to hold and to love." Naama replied with a hint of disdain. Her younger sister remained quiet, unsure how to proceed, and for a time there was only silence between them. Then from beneath the pelt Niobe procured two hooked swords which she placed into her sister's hands. Tied to her back was the greatsword the younger sibling so oft preferred during skirmishes.

"Come, let's go to the training yard," She said, grabbing Naama's wrist, "It's good to let off some steam."
User avatar
Chunki Faguta
Posts: 395
Words: 130159
Joined roleplay: February 13th, 2011, 2:53 am
Race: Mixed blood
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets
Medals: 3
Featured Thread (1) Artist (1)
Extreme Scrapbooker (1)

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests