To smite the Nightingale [Birth Thread]

Zafina · May 03, 2019, 05:54 PM

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.