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Phantom Hollow To smite the Nightingale [Birth Thread] - Printable Version

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To smite the Nightingale [Birth Thread] - Zafina - April 28, 2019


 
Imprisoned, banished, into a nexus of my own design...
Now Time mocks me, and my sentence is Gravity.



Oh Divines above, this was the worst. Whatever contractsions had seized the Witch before, these were paramount to that torment, tricefold. This being a body new to such ruinous havoc, Zafina was consumed. The express of whines  scaled the walls of this makeshift cavern she and her escort @Eilonwy had scaled out along the hollow’s edge. She would do no disrespect to the other mortals who resided here with her agony, but even in her moment she felt as though @Damien and even @Nocturnal could hear her. 

Some time had passed before she struggled out three living and breathing pups, one malformed ball being stuck in a wet puddle and unmoving. It was taken from her, and she held no value for the dead thing. Yet the first whom had come, a baby girl of dark hue as she and Marruz were, yet she could not see the markings in the midnight of the cave. The second was the stillborn, and the third was yet another girl. Should she not have been done? Was she not spared from this woe? No... it would have been too easy, even after all she had endured thus far. Tears streamed down her face as yet another contraction convulsed her abdomen, and with another squat and arc of her already strained back, another plopped quiet but wriggling in the base of the cold and solemn floor.

And it was then that the Celestial lost consciousness, toppling from the relief so immense that her ragged form fell atop the nearest little girl. All she could hear in the void was a fading whine which reminded her far too well of some humming hymn, and dastardly misery.



 
But every sky will build my throne.
 
[Image: e7ff2v.gif]




RE: To smite the Nightingale [Birth Thread] - Zafina - May 03, 2019


Imprisoned, banished, into a nexus of my own design...
Now Time mocks me, and my sentence is Gravity.


 
She was awoken by the frantic licks of her consort, the brave woman who had accompanied her in this time of painful duress. Turning to wake, she felt something cold and wet under her. Shakily bringing herself to wobbling legs, she stood to find not only a smushed pup beneath her, but the other three had perished. It was the cold which had taken what little warmth there was for them, and completely killed them. Two girls and one boy, one still born who looked to be a boy. But the fact that she had not only killed one directly, but could not hold onto her consciousness long enough to have grabbed her spawn, to have kept them warm, to have fed them...

Her anguish froze her blood, near making her internal temperature that similar to the surroundings of the cold cave. They had called for her, perhaps, crying for her, pleading for her to have given them life- and in her inexperience, she had taken it away from her. It was then her grief began to pull at her, to twist the Divine into a wretch too. A morbid and absolutely gagging sound of pain screamed free from her shaking body, Eilowyn herself even running from the cave to give the woman space to unleash the turmoil within her. It echoed upon itself, screams at screams on top of screams who screamed at screaming screams. The Ancients could not have been deaf to her fury, nor could they have ignored her burning heart- 

This was not her fault. It was not. She was serving her sentence, trapped in this shell of a body, something that she now was unwilling to pet with. This was not her punishment- this was a curse. This was the awful mess of  infertility plagued upon her by that woman, that despicable drama she and her hideous mate had gone through rubbed off on her. It stuck, made her weak, and thus her spawn could not have possibly lived through that misery Amekaze and Charon had bestowed upon her. 

Then I will give it back. And thus my promise, fulfilled.”

Then she would be free of the hex. And her purity as a Divine, restored. She would make it back to her fellow Celestials, with or without the kindness of a mortal. 

The anguish was drained, replaced by a calm conclusion of resolution that only a shattered woman could conjure-

Vengeance.


But every sky will build my throne.
[Image: e7ff2v.gif]