How do you imagine the suitors to sound like ? Give me voice claims. Especially for those who don't have any lines in jorge's musical : Leodes, Amphimedon, Polybus, Agelaus, Ktessipos
I donât know, I know you didnât ask for her at first, but since she doesn't have a voiceclaim either, I was wondering about Melantho , so if that interests you, I thought this one V/A would maybe fit (I know the lines/dialogue don't, but if I imagine her loosing her cool then this voice comes to my mind):
(Yandere!St.Figarland Garling X F!Original Character)
[A/n: First of all, this work acts as a prequel to my previous post on this blog, to better understand what's going on I would strongly advise you to read the first chapter available just here:
-> Part 1
Second, unlike the first one, this second chapter primarily involves OCxCanon and is mainly written from the OC pov. Further chapters will be reader-centric, this here is the only exception.
Third, this is a dead-dove fic. Read at your own risks]
I HAVE NEVER, AND WILL NEVER CONDONE THE ACTIONS OF ANY CELESTIAL DRAGON!!
Dialogues:
âą Common language spoken in OP
âą Local language spoken on this one island
TRIGGER WARNINGS:
OC x Canon, Not Spoiler Free (until chap 1143), Rape/Noncon, Death, Genocide, Racism/Colonialism, Slavery, Cultural Erasure, Celestial Dragons being Celestial Dragons, Celestial Dragons National "Hunt a Native" Event, Slight Gore/Body Horror, Non-sexual Nudity, Yandere Creepiness, Polygamy, Yandere having several Darlings, Author's First (Poor) Attempt at writing Smut
DEAD DOVE/DO NOT EAT
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
(Fanart done by Greiish)
(Three years before the God Valley Incident, somewhere in the New World)
It should have been a lovely day.
At the very least, it started with a lovely morning. Most of the land was still asleep, as the early dawn began to colour the skies with its soft hues. The air was still fresh, not too hot yet, and carried the faint scents of sea salt, wisteria and peacefulness.
On the western hill of the city, where the Temple of Love stood, a servant girl remained busy. She was looking for a place to rest while navigating the plants, pillars, statues, and numerous snoring bodies littering the inner courtyard.
They were all Love Priests and Priestesses â famed performers, musicians, singers, dancers, poets, and masters of the fine arts â who had just fallen asleep on the cool stone tiles after a wild night of festivities.
For now, the only sound breaking the silence was the melody of the zither.
"Come on Madam... you've been up all night. You should go rest already!"
There she was, still clad in her ceremonial robes, her deep blue curls adorned in silver and pearls. The High Love Priestess, mistress of these parts, sitting on the floor while softly pinching the strings.
"True, indeed. Probably in some time though. I would like to see the sunrise first."
She looked up at the girl, a big smile spreading across her painted lips:
"What a night, eh? Did you see that? All the neighboring districts, they kept their lanterns burning all night long. It was your first festival, wasn't it? Did you enjoy yourself?"
The girl nodded shyly. Truly, she did have fun, but more than anything, as a newbie, she still felt rather intimidated by the Madam.
"Speaking of which... tell me my dear, where did my lovely apprentice go? Did you see him? It was his first time too, and he had been performing all night... is he in his chambers already?
- This I don't know, Madam, but that's true, I didn't see him either."
The woman nodded, thoughtful, a small frown on her face, looking toward the gates:
"I'll wait for him then. Sorry sweetie, you don't have to stay with me if you're sleepy, but if you don't mind, may I show you something first?"
She tapped the floor beside her, motioning for the girl to sit down. She did so, her cheeks flushing as her Madam cradled her even closer.
"I need you to look at things from my angle. See that tree over there?"
She looked up and her eyes widened at the sight of the sky. Even at that time, with the Sun rising, one could still distinguish some stars, and even the Moon. From this angle, she could see the faint silver crescent aligned with that tall pine tree over there, as if it were a fruit hanging from its branch.
The Madam hummed, pleased. Her voice rose, warm and soothing, as she played the notes of that old lullaby:
"Moon, O Moon,
Don't climb up that tree...
The tree is tall and you are still young
O Moon..."
"You want to pluck a Moon
for your beloved...
Soon enough your beloved
will return from his travels..."
As if on cue, they both heard a commotion. Someone passing through the gates, running toward them, amidst the drunken groans of the people he inadvertently stepped on.
"SORRY EVERYONE !"
There he was. That sweet boy, still clad in his dancing clothes, now drenched in sweat. The young priest stopped in front of them, trying to catch his breath while the servant fetched water for him.
"Glad to see you, I was starting to worry. What's the matter? Where were you?
- Was... ekh... was at the cliffs. Near the shores... wanted to feel the breeze... see the Sun rise on the sea..."
He wheezed loudly, gulped down the water brought to him. His frantic eyes met the Priestess' , an anxious look written all over his pretty face.
"Saw ships, Madam. Lots, lots and lots of ships, the biggest ones I've ever seen... not from around here, that's for sure... could be a hundred, could be even more... I... arrgh... I didn't see when they arrived, but now they're getting close... will dock at any moment... What's going on ??!!"
How weird. How concerning. Their island was isolated, and normally, no foreign ship should be able to arrive with all the sharp reefs and stormy winds surrounding them. The Priestess tried to calm her anxious heart. Surely, those people must speak the common language of foreigners. She was educated; she could understand them.
She finally stood up, shadowing the two youngsters by her towering height.
"Those are serious matters indeed. You two, go and wake up everyone. Also, send a messenger to the War Temple, just in case. As for me... I'll go there, try and see what kind of people we are dealing with, and what they're looking for."
By now, countless humoungous ships sporting a foreign flag had finally docked, with a lot of big humans disembarking. Chubby people dressed in bizarre white clothes. Hair tied in a high top knot, a glass tank (?) covering their heads. Most of them men of various age. Most of them laughing, holding riffles and other firearms.
She gulped loudly.
She spotted other peopleâdirty, raggedy onesâlocked in cages. There was also a group of around ten people who looked like highly trained soldiers. Fireworks were launched into the sky, someone started screaming into a snail-speaker. All those sounds were loud enough to wake most of the remaining citizens.
The High Priestess knew it; most of her people didn't know this language. Moreover, this guy spoke with a very strange accent, one she had never heard before, ending most of his sentences with a noisy "-eh" sound.
As for what he was saying... again, she could understand them very well, and yet, she had trouble believing what she was hearing.
Game - Sport - Hunt - Tournament - Slaves - Natives - Primitives - Rewards - Rabbits - Score - Rare - Super Rare - Resources - Treasures - Gods - World Government...
Was she dreaming?
Was it a nightmare?
Or was it a bad, really tasteless joke?
She felt her blood boiling, her teeth grinding, as she heard all these absurdities.
Without thinking about the consequences, she ran past the other locals and stood before the foreigners on a high cliff. Her booming voice thundered like a storm:
"HAVE YOU ALL LOST YOUR MIND?!
And just who do you think you all are?! Who are your leaders? Who was childish and absurd enough to decide they would play games with the lives of thousands of people? Crazy enough to want to destroy a thousand years old civilization on a simple whim? Let me speak to them, see if we can end this madness before it's too late!"
Of course, they heard her loud and clear. However, the speaker didn't seem much fazed, only introducing her as "a Rare Rabbit, a revered religious figure for these Natives!".
He then turned toward her, a crass smile on his face:
"And as you can all see from this fine female specimen, women from this island don't even bother covering their chest!"
She almost took a step back. Fear and disgust overwhelmed her, followed by a strong urge to puke, seeing all these men looking up at her. Most of them with heart-shaped eyes, some bleeding from the nose, some even downright drooling.
Among all these people, she felt the strongest and most frightening gaze coming from one of their soldiers.
A really tall guy he was, wearing a shiny, colorful uniform, with a glowing mane of hair styled in the most bizarre hairdo she had ever seen. Strangely enough, this made him no less intimidating. She could feel itâthat man radiated power and smugness from every fiber of his being.
What happened after that, she should have seen it coming. Oh well, one could say it would have ended up like that anyway.
It was childish of her, that's for sure. Normally she would never use her status to demean anyone. But that's true, here she was no ordinary woman, and if she was facing disgusting haughty people, then she could afford to be haughty herself. But more than that, she just... couldn't stand this feeling anymore. As if she was but a piece of meat among starving beasts.
So she held his gaze. Made a nasty gesture with her fingers, the kind either used to curse someone or to ward off evil. And spoke loud and clear, so that anyone could understand she was speaking to him:
"Good grief... Now tell me Boy, did I allow you to look me in the eyes?"
She barely had time to hear their collective gasp, see this man grinning wildly and grasping his sword, before she was grabbed and pulled back by an armed War Priest.
"Come on, Madam! Go hide yourself!"
As the High Priestess started running, she heard the first gunshot. Thatâs it, the game had started.
She still couldn't wrap her head around what was happening: too much noise, too much cries, too much death everywhere. She tried to tell the War Priests and other soldiers she ran into not to bother with her, and rather try to protect the civilians. That is, until a shot came too close to her, grazing her arm and making her trip over something - or, more likely, someone.
Blood stained the bottom of her dress, and she bit back a cry when she felt her badly sprained ankle. She stood up as best she could, focused on her breathing, and kept on walking until she reached her Temple. By that point, it was already empty. She liked to think that most people had already escaped to the forest. However, she didn't think she could reach it. For now, she just wanted a safe place to rest and hide. Given her condition, she could only go so far.
So she closed the gates. Leaning on the wall to keep her balance, she walked through the hollow corridors, the sound of her anklets chiming as she went toward the most remote, secret rooms.
There it was. Smelling of wood and old perfume, dimly lit by a small, high-perched window. That old storeroom in the East Wing.
Without realizing it, it seemed her feet had brought her back here. As if she was back to being that sickly pale and frail girl. The homesick little newbie, who was always found hiding there when she was sad or afraid.
Her current situation didn't feel very different.
So, as always, she slumped to the dusty floor, brought her knees to her chest and hid her face in her arms. If she convinced herself enough, she could pretend that her sprained ankle was just a trivial accident, that the metallic stench had nothing to do with the reddish stains on her dress, and that the muffled screams outside were just a figment of her imagination.
Had anyone asked her, she wouldn't have known how long she had been there. Could have been mere minutes, hours, or even centuries for all she cared.
She was just focused on clutching her too big, quivering body, trying in vain to make it look as small as possible. As of now she just yearned to be a bird, a lizard or an ant -- anything really-- just a forgettable and forgotten little creature, one who would blend in with the walls and would never, ever attract anyone's attention.
And yet... some wishes didn't seem to be meant to come true.
Her small hiding antics didn't really deter him, did they?
He still managed to spot her, to follow her. And now he was alone with her.
She didn't move an inch, her crouching form facing him, feeling his gaze burn the top of her head. Her heart skipped a beat, her breath caught in her throat as she heard his slow, measured steps. She could even hear the faint dripping sound of his bloodstained sword.
" Say, Boy... don't you fear the Divine Judgment? "
This made him chuckle. As he approached, ran his gloved fingers through her hair, he told her: as a God he was the one who judged.
At last she lifted her head. Took in the sight before her. Good grief... at nearly 8 feet tall, she was considered a giant by her island's standards. Yet this man still managed to dwarf her, nearly reaching the ceiling. And now that he was close, she could distinguish them clearly:
Red eyes.
Gleaming, bloody, disgusting red eyes.
The kind she heard about as a child, those sported by wandering spirits when they took on human form. The kind that were enough to make her blood freeze when they crossed her teal ones.
A mocking smirk adorned his lips:
"May I now look, O gracious Angel?"
He didn't wait for an answer. Grabbed her and threw her across the room, onto the plush fabric of old attires. In the blink of an eye, he was on top of her.
She squirmed, tried to push him away, but to no avail. It felt like she was battling a brick wall, as he was roughly pawing at her bare chest and kissing all over her neck.
He sat up, removed his gloves.
"My name is Garling. Saint Figarland Garling, Supreme Commander of the Holy Knights."
Tore off her clothes that were in his way.
"And I can assure you, Angel..."
His belt was the next thing to go, as he freed his throbbing member from his breeches.
"...you will come back with me."
She bit back a sob, water blurring her vision as he penetrated her.
It had been going on for a long time already.
That strange, foreign breath mingling with her own, that oppressive weight on her body, and that sickening back-and-forth motion, over and over and over again...
Somehow, in the midst of it all, an oddly comforting thought crossed her mind. She had doubted it for a moment, but now she was sure: that "Garling"... he could call himself a "God" all he wanted; all she saw was a man â a mere human male made of flesh.
This she could deal with.
She was no fighter.
She couldn't handle him on a battleground.
But her strength was elsewhere.
She was a Love Priestess. The Madam of her Temple even, the most famed in the last two decades. She knew how to seduce, how to enthrall anyone, and while this beast of a man stayed with her, he wasn't going out killing anyone else. Surely, if she could keep him there long enough, then more civilians could have time to escape.
She could pretend he was just one of her many lovers, albeit taller and â though she had trouble admitting it â much prettier than those she was used to.
So, in a desperate attempt, she wrapped her thighs around his hips. Ran her fingers across his broad back, along his warm nape, through his silky hair... and kissed him back.
The arrogant Garling was elated. Of course, she was already falling in love with him!
And as time passed, as he finally finished "making love" to his soon-to-be wife, the Sun was already setting. End of the first day, time to head back.
While he fixed his hair and clothes, the woman was lying on her side, clutching her lower belly and trying to catch her breath. What kind of stamina did this man have?
As he had his back turned, she grabbed one of her discarded jewels, a sharp silver hairpin, and aimed it at his neck.
Quickly, he caught her wrist in a painful hold.
"Wrong move, Angel..."
He threw the hairpin across the room, looked down at her. Tiny flowers and soft swirls, delicate patterns in deep blue ink, adorning her long fingers and dainty wrist. One he could crush so easily.
He kissed it gently.
"Don't worry though, you've been so good for me..."
A satisfied smile spread across his lips.
"Your husband will forgive you now, but only this one time."
So he wrapped her naked, shivering form in his cloak, lifted her as if she weighed nothing, and took her back to the ships.
As for the rest of the trip, she felt numb. Couldn't have remembered nor described all that she saw; her mind wouldn't have handled it anyway. Only two images remained etched on her retina:
The servant girl's tiny body torn open, resting on a bed of thorny vines, and her dear, sweet boy's weeping eyes, as he was collared and chained alongside some other captives.
They finally arrived in front of a huge, lavish tent, from which servants with downcast eyes emerged.
"She is to be my wife, so treat her with respect. Tend to her wounds, give her decent clothes and a warm meal, but don't let her come out of my quarters unless I allow it."
The following days passed in a blur.
Countless hours stuck in this ridiculously luxurious bedroom, feeling the light come and go and trying in vain to drown out the sounds from the outside.
Dreading the night when he would come back, join her in bed and make her sing for him.
Dreading the morning because she knew that all her beauty or charm would never be enough to keep him close to her.
Each and everytime, he would go out and kill more and more innocents.
"You people are an interesting bunch, you know that?" He would say while cleaning his sword. "Haven't had such a memorable Hunt in a very, very long time."
Until that one day.
She had woken up to the sound of voices outside, and saw Garling's silhouette through the tent's fabric. Oddly enough, he remained silent, and she couldn't tell who was speaking.
"...C- Commander..."
What a weird-sounding voice.
"... my limbs... please..."
Sounded like someone trapped in a great distress.
"I don't know where they are..."
A wet, gurgling noise accompanied it.
As if they were drowning, or choking on their own spit.
"...grrrgl... all of them, they hide in the mountains... those who wield the trident... I don't know where they've hidden my parts... I-I can't fathow why, but th-they won't grow back... I'm -kkhh... I'm begging you, Commander, please h-help me... I... arrgh... I'm burning and I'm freezing, I can't feel anything and yet everything hurts... grrrgl... what will I say to our Lord?! Please please plea-"
Garling finally responded.
"Disgusting"
His tone cold and unforgiving.
"Tsk. Have you no shame? You are disgracing your House and sullying my boots. More than anything, though, you are wasting my time. Do me a favor and learn to die in silence."
As she heard his footsteps fading away, the woman stood up and carefully lifted the tent flap. No one in sight.
"Hhhh..."
She followed the sound, looked down at the ground on her left... and felt her knees weaken.
A head.
The severed head of a young man, pierced by an arrow, lying in a pool of blood and some kind of thick, black, gooey tar.
She collapsed to the ground when that...thing locked its glassy eyes with her own.
"Help-"
Garling didn't come back this night, nor the nights after.
"Gi ha ha ha, look who's showing his face again!"
"What does he got?"
"Another Super Rare Rabbit!"
"That true? Let me see, let me see-eh!"
"Ugh! What a wretched little creature! Let me have its head, I'm sure she's the one who killed my husband-eh!"
"Looks like Figarland is going to win this year too."
"Is that really surprising anyway?"
"No fair, he has the best prize warming his bed already!"
The priestess stumbled out of the tent and past the guards, wanting to see what the commotion was about.
There he was, looking as infuriatingly pristine as ever, as he dismounted from his steed. Thrown over his saddle, she could distinguish the lacerated corpse of a young woman.
She looked away, a shuddering breath escaping her lips as she recognized her tattoos. No matter what, she could never get used to the sight of defeated War Priests.
It seemed Garling was looking elsewhere too, because a pudgy old Noble managed to approach to take a closer look...
"MY FINGEEEEERS - EEEEEEH !!!"
He was howling in pain, crying, as he held onto his bloody stumps.
"kkkkhhhhhhhh.... aaaaaarrrrgh..."
As strange as it may seem, this corpse was in fact very much alive.
"GAAA' LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN !!!!!"
A near delirious state.
A pair of revulsed eyes.
And a bloodstained, twisted mouth, opened in a bone-chilling scream.
"Come' here, YOU ROACH!! I.... Akh- I'm NOT DONE WITH YOOUUUUU !!!!!!"
At the same time, she was squirming, shaking in her bindings. The bird-steed started to panick, as her limbs got that characteristic black-reddish hue, as she came on the verge of breaking her chains.
"OUT OF MY WAY EVERYONE! This will teach you all not to touch what's mine..."
Garling grabbed her, knocked her out with his own Haki and forcefully opened her mouth.
"You bloody fool... Look at you, you nearly bit off your own tongue..."
He turned toward his servants, and the Love Priestess thought she was hallucinating. She could have sworn she saw a tiny flicker of worry in his eyes.
"This one will need urgent care."
Then, as if he had finally noticed her presence, he turned back and looked at her.
"You are supposed to stay inside."
She looked away, her fingers shaking as she watched the poor woman be taken away by medics.
"What... what's the meaning of all this?"
He reached her in three quick steps and firmly grasped her upper arm.
"Let us talk inside."
When they reached the privacy of his quarters, he sat down, pulled her onto his lap and buried his face in her hair.
"It's only been a few days... I didn't think I'd miss you this much...
- You didn't answer my question, Garling."
He chuckled, started humming one of her songs. Spoke about different customs she may not have been aware of, and the fact that it was perfectly normal for a God like him to have several spouses.
"But do not worry, my Angel... it doesn't make my feelings for you any less sincere."
His "feelings"?
She stifled a nervous laugh.
Did he even know what that word meant? Did he really think she could afford to be jealous, given her situation?
How delusional could this man be?!
She felt him grin against her neck.
"I didn't plan for this, you know... and yet, I found myself thinking... you two make for an intoxicating contrast."
He took her hand in his, softly caressing her with his thumb.
"Think about it. Imagine, the three of us. She would need someone's help to learn my language. Wouldn't you like it, some company?"
She didn't want to imagine. She would rather crack her own skull open than contemplate any future involving him.
She just... couldn't envision her life without admiring the dawn on her island. And he took that away, along with everything else.
And yet... she couldn't take her mind off that poor girl's broken body, looking so small in this monster's grasp. She thought about her, currently battling death, only to wake up trapped and alone with him.
And more than anything... she couldn't resist the comforting idea of having at least one ally.
So she tried to keep her tears away, intertwined her fingers with his, and put on the sweetest smile she could muster:
[A/n: First of all, english isnât my first language, sorry if there is any mistake. Also it's my first work ever posted, be nice please.
Second, the Yandere!Garling portrayal has been heavily inspired by the lovely work of @everlasting-rainfall , you should check their blog if you'd like, minors do not interact with their tumblr!
Third, this is a dead-dove fic. Read at your own risks]
I HAVE NEVER, AND WILL NEVER CONDONE THE ACTIONS OF ANY CELESTIAL DRAGON!!
Dialogues:
âą Common language spoken in OP
âą Local language spoken on this one island
TRIGGER WARNINGS:
Not Spoiler Free (until chap 1096), Death, Genocide, Mass Suicide, Racism/Colonialism, Slavery, Cultural Erasure, Celestial Dragons being Celestial Dragons, Celestial Dragons National "Hunt a Native" Event, Implied Rape/Noncon, Non-sexual Nudity, Stalking, Yandere Creepiness, Female!Reader, Tattoed!Reader
DEAD DOVE/DO NOT EAT
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
(Three years before the God Valley Incident, somewhere in the New World)
You were a gift to the Temple, even before you could start to remember your parents faces. You learnt how to fight at the same time your learnt how to walk. The other gifted children were your brothers and sisters, and alongside them you grew up, learning how to detect your enemy's Voice and how to make your weapon and your fists as hard as diamonds. You learnt how to attack, and how to defend.
When you became an adult, you received your tattoos, your steel trident along with a new name. One which would give you strength and resilience.
You were part of the Priests of the War God. Elite of the Nation and Protector of the Island.
But those sea people... those wretched, greasy and filthy invaders... those so-called Gods. They didn't use any of those titles.
So, what did they call you?
A Super Rare Rabbit.
When they arrived, surrounded your island with their ships and made their announcement, you didnât understand at first. You weren't really skilled in that area, you had troubles understanding their language. And when you finally got it, you still didnât believe it. I mean, who could? It was... surreal, absurd.
You finally understood when the first shot was fired.
Mayhem was unleashed upon your people. Screaming children everywhere, families running frantically. The sound of detonations and misery. The smell of blood, powder and death.
Along with your siblings, you tried to do your duty as best as you could. Striking some of these invaders, but mostly helping your fellow citizens to flee and hide in the mountains.
This was all too sudden. You had to retreat, take a grasp on the situation, and come up with a plan.
There was also a small group of foreigners who were used as targets. Apparently, slaves. Only by taking your time to discuss with them, with the help of someone who spoke their language, did you truly comprehend the Horror of your situation.
A Hunt. These demons were planning to exterminate all of you, but wanted to have fun with it.
If you survived for 3 weeks you would be released? As if! Who could believe that?! As the slaves said, no one ever survived these fucked up games!
They would kill you all and steal your Land.
That is, only the lucky ones would be shot. Youâve heard some accounts. And you wanted to bash your skull against a rock to forget them.The things surviving civilians witnessed during the first attack. The horrendous fate that awaited many women and even some pretty young men who were left behind.
As you tried to calm down the citizens, your higher-ups were pondering their options. They could clearly sense it, most of the sea people didn't know anything about combat. However, their weaponry was way more advanced than yours. Not only that, but a tremendous number of their battleships surrounded the island, leaving no way out.
To make matters worse, there was also that one thing, that you could sense too. They counted about ten of these people, whose Voices were so dreadful they shook them to their core.
In this instance, what could they do? Their options were scarce, if not inexistent. You could feel their unease seeping through the camp, slowly making its way into everyone's mind. Once they were done deliberating, you were all gathered to hear their final decision.
You shared a glance with some of your brothers. You didnât voice your opinion, but frankly, you didnât need to. Most of them were having similar thoughts.
One thing was clear: you would all die. There was no need to lie to yourself. Either hunted for sports like animals, or reduced to slavery.
But still, something needed to be done. You couldn't just... wait for the sea-people to come and play their stupid games. No warrior could ever endure such humiliation. No civilian deserved to end up a hunting trophy. You needed to act quick, before any of them could reach this hideout.
So, the higher-ups finally spoke. From the beginning, there was only one true option. And even if you thought you were ready to hear that, you still felt like the ground was opening under your feet and swallowing you whole. It was so unfair... how could you tell that to the civilians? Look them in the eyes and tell them you couldn't protect them? That your vows meant nothing?
But still... all these people... the women, the children, the elderly... and those who just could not defend themselves... they finally understood. After all, they were still part of a prideful nation. If they could find a way to avoid this game, they would do it.
And then, it started.
People hugging their loved ones before throwing themselves off cliffs.
Mothers holding their children before making them eat the seeds of the Last-Kiss Fruit.
And those who picked up the poisoned corpses and threw them into water sources, slowly infecting the Land, destroying everything before the invaders could seize it.
At the end, only a few people remained.
The War Priests of the West, dutiful and well-trained. The Masked Mountain Warriors, as stealthy as deadly. The Archers of the Eastern Coast, whose bloodlust was unmatched in the whole Land. Some foreign slaves and other natives joined you as well. Every men and women who were ready to kill and be killed.
These people wanted a good Hunt, didn't they? Well, the only good hunt is one where both parties are in danger. You would show them. Strike fear into their hearts. A last time before your culture vanished, they would understand how your kind celebrated Death.
Most of them, the portly ones wearing glass bubbles on their heads, they were quite easy to catch. Some were even dumb enough to get themselves eaten by mountain beasts. And those who weren't, they would end up lost in the forest, stumbling across rows and rows of decaying bodies, before getting stabbed by ambushed warriors and hung from the trees, with their remains displayed in the most gruesome way.
However, as days went by, these people ventured less and less inland. Now, only their most powerful fighters dared to step a foot into the forest, those whose strength was so great they could wipe out a dozen of your warriors in a single blow. It was all madness.
You managed to escape them so far, but still, your numbers were quickly dwindling.
For how long had this been going on? You'd say... maybe... nine to thirteen days. You weren't really sure anymore. For now, the moon was full, shining high in the sky, you were sitting alone in a clearing hidden behind a row of trees, and frankly, you were just trying to get some rest.
As shitty as this situation was, you could say, today was a good day. A great day, actually. One of these former slaves had told you those fighters were called "Holy Knights". And just this morning, your fellow War Priests managed to ambush one of them.
You were there when it happened. You saw the true power of these so-called "knights", which could only be described as demonic. Something unholy and unheard of, that needed every ounce of your combined forces to manage to destroy it. Most of your remaining siblings died today, leaving you as one of their last ones standing. But still, you weren't going to cry just yet, because at the end of the day, this haughty arrogant scummy awful disgusting horrendous- knight met his well-deserved fate.
His head detached from his body, attached to an arrow and hurled towards your enemy position for everyone to see.
It was the one thing that made you smile, the one thing that made you almost giddy.
They were warned, not even their best warriors were safe. Your civilization may die out eventually (it was already a zombie at that point), but you weren't just going to vanish quietly, playing by their stupid rules.
You were still planning to clash with some other knights, but for now, you were just going to get some rest.
Soon, you could fully rest.
It would all end soon enough.
Garling was seething. How did that happen? How did this scum manage to get himself killed?! By half-naked peasants, nonetheless! Sure, he was one of their weakest, but still, what a disgrace for their Order! He almost wanted to crush this fool's skull under his boot.
Breath in... Breath out...
This humiliating inconvenience put aside, he could say, he was pleasantly surprised by that turn of event.
Honestly, he didn't expect these natives to go this far. Most of the regular Rabbits killed themselves during the first two days, leaving only Rare and Super Rare ones. What was initially a funny contest between Nobles was now a much more difficult competition between Knights only.
Well, he wouldn't complain: as long as there was a worthy challenge, he was willing to play.
But still, what were they thinking? If they were capable of thoughts, that is... Why bother fighting back if they were all doomed anyway? What was their purpose? Did they even have one?
Foolish, but still, quite entertaining.
For now, the moon was full, shining high in the sky, he was walking through the woods when he heard some noise.
How unfair, you were thinking... No matter what horrors were happening down there, the moon and stars were as beautiful as ever. Besides, at the altitude you were at, the stench of corpses barely reached you.
You suddenly had this urge. You weren't sure why... maybe because the night was just so beautiful. It didn't really make sense, but maybe... you just needed to let it all out.
You stood up, your feet stomping rhythmically on the grass. Your hips began to sway. Your chest filled with air. Your arms rose. Your head tilted back as the words of that old hymn came out of your mouth.
"...He is the One Mighty Dancer under whose graceful dancing feet, the heads of all the arrogant Lords of the Bloody Cliff get crushed...."
You giggled slightly. How fitting.
As you were singing and dancing to your heart's content, the man hidden behind the trees had his eyes glued to you.
Of course Garling recognized you. Large pants, bare chest, upper body covered in tattoos... you were one of their Priestesses. A Super Rare Rabbit.
With the light of the moon, he could see you almost as well as in broad daylight. He've seen you several times before: you weren't one of their strongest, but for sure you were a slick one. So far, you've been one of the rare ones who managed to escape him.
His eyes roamed all over your body: from your bare feet to your raised hands, from your heaving breasts to your pert nipples, from your wet cheeks to your eyes closed in bliss.
He'd seen countless slave dancers, far more graceful than you. He'd heard countless slave singers, far more melodious than you. And yet, he had to admit, there was something truly enticing, something he couldn't put his finger on, about the wild way you swayed and moved.
Whatever, no matter how alluring it was, you were still a primitive... how shameless of you... to flaunt your attributes like that, without a care in the world.
He assumed you were unaware of his presence, however, a part of him liked to imagine that you were deliberately putting on a show just for him.
And suddenly, the music stopped. With your back to him, you stood as still as a statue, half your limbs still in the air. You didnât even spare a glance his way before grabbing your discarded trident and disappearing into the woods.
He chuckled, almost disappointed by this abrupt end. He almost wanted to go after you right away, but hey, it couldn't hurt to give you a little head start, right?
Frankly, he was tired of scurrying through the dense forest at night. And after all... he still had that one issue inside his pants he needed to take care of. As he continued to stare at the spot where you had disappeared, one of his hands rested on his growing bulge while the other gripped the hilt of his sword.
Don't worry, dear Rabbit... he would catch you soon enough.
You ran frantically, trying to put as much distance as possible between you and him. You didn't even have to look back. Just by feeling his terrifying presence, you recognized him.
"I remember you... Gaa'Laaaan.... or maybe Gaa'Liiiiiiin.... or whatever it is, whatever your name must mean in your worthless language... Son of a rotten spider's corpse, how dare you spy on me with those nasty eyes of yours?! I'll have your head, if not I'll claw your eyes out, if not I'll gnaw on your bones, if not..."
And so on and so on.
The thing was... you still wanted to fight them, but not him. Not right now. Not just yet. Damn... just by feeling his stare on your back, you were already shaking from head to toe and struggling to breathe... Since the beginning, if you were to count each one of your siblings, you'd say he was the one who killed most of them. For some reason he'd been the one who targeted your Order the most, and each of your encounters with him had been more terrifying than the last.
So you ran and ran until dawn.
After this one encounter, two whole days passed. You weren't sure if you were the last one standing, but you didnât run into anyone. That is, until that fateful moment where once again, you felt his eyes on your back. For sure he was a dedicated man, you could give him that. You steadied your breathing, trying to keep your fingers from shaking, while you remembered the words of your late teacher:
"Come on, get up! You won't be able to do anything if you can't stay steady on your own two feet! Now you better listen... it's a very strong power that defends you like an invisible armor, and can also be used offensively. You need to be aware of it, to feel it going through your blood... Now breathe... Can you feel it yet? You have to allow this power in your body to flow to your fist, and then your weapon. Once it's done, this thing that covers you will become even stronger, it will enter your enemy's body and destroy it from the inside!"
You glanced back at him, gripping you trident tightly as you took up a fighting stance.
"It's been going on for too long already, don't you think? Come on, ă'Ga'Lan' 'Ga'Lin'ă. Fight me."
Good grief... In all honesty, you had no expectation of defeating him- his level was clearly superior anyway, but to the point where you couldn't even do him any harm, not even a single wound... what a humiliation!
There you were, nearly beaten to death, but not quite dead yet. You lay on the ground, both your ankles broken, your beloved trident a few feet away and his lanky figure hovering over you.
Now you could clearly see him. You saw his gaze linger on your face, then move down your wounded body to finally rest on your breasts.
Oh. Thatâs right. You almost forgot that one detail about foreign men. Honestly, what was their problem? Were they suckling babies? Why would they be that much bothered by a woman's torso?
And more importantly, why was he taking so long to finish you off?!
He sheated his sword, removed his gloves. What was he thinking? Perhaps... even though your bloody form was far from attractive right now, you were still a woman... If he didn't want to end you just yet, maybe he wanted to... you felt your throat tighten. Maybe, just maybe, if you were lucky, you would lose counsciousness before he could put his hands on you.
He knelt down, brought his face close to yours. Too close, the tip of his weird hairdo almost tickling your cheek. You heard him talk to you.
What a joke... You were bleeding badly, on the verge of fainting, did he seriously think you would use your last two functioning brain cells to try and understand what he was saying?!
How dared he... that filthy maggot... that disgusting creature... who did he think he was?! He had no rights! No right to be this pretty, no right to look at you with such tender eyes, no right to speak to you with such a soft voice, no right to stroke your cheek as if he weren't the one who brought Doom to your island!!
It wasn't right. Things needed to end, quickly. You couldn't stay brave for very long. There was only so much you could take.
Were you in better condition, you would have bitten his fingers off. Instead, you gathered all the fluids in your mouth and spat a bloody one on his too-perfect face.
" YOU WENCH ! "
He slapped you and then stood up. You hoped he would finally draw his sword but instead he went back to his weird duck-like steed, seemingly looking for something. It was only when he came back to you, a smirk on his face, that you could see what he was holding in his hands.
A chain.
Now you understood.
He didn't want to end you.
He wanted to keep you.
"No... No way... Stop it! STAY AWAY FROM ME YOU SICK BASTARD!!!"
At that moment, whatever was left of your dignity and self-control left your body. Blood was pounding in your temples. Tears streamed freely down your cheeks. Tiny whimpers and ugly sobs were coming out of your mouth. All your limbs were shaking as you tried to wriggle out of his grasp. To no avail. In the blink of an eye, you were thrown over his steed, secured tightly by the chain.
"P-Please... I'm begging you, just kill me..."
It was all too much. Your throat felt raw. Your vision started to get blurry. The last thing you remembered before you passed out, was his hand in your hair, as he looked down at you with that sickening smile of his.
"Don't worry my dear... Even if I spare one Rabbit, I still win the game."
