[sarahkestlerisntdead]

Seraphina::Lists.//.Identity

A list of things I have done:

           I have visited the Infernous.

           I have taken on the mark of the Unie’ndis.

           I have loved a dekn.

           I have loved an arkn.

           I have killed a dekn.

           I have killed an arkn.

           I have slain the innocent.

           I have slain the guilty.

           I have watched my own father through the scope of a gun.

           I have watched people burn.

           I have been the one to start the fire.

           I have spared a life.

           I have been beaten within inches of my own.

           I have broken rules.

           I have enforced laws.

           I have said nothing when I should have said something.

           I have said something when I should have said nothing.

           I have watched my brother suffer.

           I have covered my scars in ink.

           I have spent my entire life training.

           I have lived a lie.

A list of things I have never done:

           I have never known civilian life.

           I have never been able to rest.

           I have never had a family.

           I have never missed my mark.

           I have never met a human.

           I have never been to a museum.

           I have never went to see a film.

           I have never gone to school.

           I have never known my mother.

           I have never thought to miss her.

           I have never met my brother.

           I have never met my father.

           I have never had a choice.

A list of questions I should not have asked:

           Where did you find me?

           Who are my parents?

           Who did this to you?

           What are you hiding from me?

           Why did I ask?

           What do you want me to do?

           Who is next?

           Why me?

           Why does it have to be him?

           Is it worth it?

           Why did it have to be like this?

A list of things I don’t want to talk about:

           Where I came from.

           My brother (and his subsequent torment).

           My father (and his abandonment—of more than just me).

           My tattoos.

           The people I’ve killed.

           The people I haven’t killed.

           Myself.

A list of facts:

           I was born of and for fire.

           I was raised by a dekn.

           Said dekn (Lilis) worked for the Carver until she found me.

           I come from a royal line.

           I want nothing to do with the royal line.

           Upon asking about my parents, mine and Lilis’s lives were threatened.

           I am a bastard child.

           I have yet to visit .reality.

           I am descended from two of the hethe.

           I have inherited their blood.

           I know what this means.

           I have told no one.

           I am scared.

My name is Seraphina.  I was born of the Infernous.  My father is King Uriel, son of King Gilgamesh.  I am a Valk.  I am an Arknza.  And I am not supposed to be here.

[atomicallyabyss-deactivated2016]

Dreams of Unknown Origin

I am so concerned.

[sarahkestlerisntdead]

An update on the situation.

[sarahkestlerisntdead]

command://_forget_

My head pounded.  The brunt of it was behind my eyes, like someone had taken a jackhammer to my brain in some bullshit construction worker lobotomy.  Jesus, what a great way to wake up. I rolled to my side, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes, as if to shove the headache out the back of my skull. Something in my bed crunched.  I froze mid-movement.  My bed isn’t supposed to be crunchy.  Temporarily ignoring my headache, I threw the covers off and sat up.  What the fuck.

           There were leaves in my bed.  Leaves aren’t supposed to be in my bed.  They’re supposed to be… outside… on the ground.  Not only that, but I was fully dressed, wearing jeans and a jacket. In one of the jacket pockets was a bottle of pills that I vaguely remembered getting from Ellis… yesterday? What day is it?  I searched for my phone.  After nearly burning out my corneas from having the brightness on full blast, I checked the date.  The fifteenth.  My last appointment with Ellis had been on what, the twelfth?  Thirteenth?  The calendar app told me it had been on the thirteenth.  What the fuck, that was two days ago. What… what have I been doing since then?

           I wracked my brain, trying to recall what happened before I apparently went to bed fully-clothed and with a shit ton of leaves.  But there was nothing.  Nothing but static—a fuzz, hovering somewhere beneath the crown of my skull, crackling like manmade thunder, or desert heat.  I opened up the bottle of pills from Ellis, pouring them out on the bed and counting them. Twelve.  That meant that I’d been taking them, despite having an unsettling gap in my memory. Could they be the reason behind that? He didn’t mention any side effects like that.  But I guess that could happen from switching medications so abruptly. I put the pills back in the bottle and set it on my bedside stand.  Ugh, why do I keep my ibuprofen all the way in the bathroom?  That means I have to get up to get it.

           I prepared myself, staring at the ceiling and dreading having to stand.  But I stretched, ridding my body of the soreness that had accumulated from sleep, and swung my legs over the side of the bed.  I need to figure out what I’ve been up to these past two days.

Tracing your steps is considerably more difficult when you have no friends to help you figure out where you went over the course of a day. I considered asking Dr. Ellis if he knew, but then realized that that would be stupid.  How would he know?  I never, not once, told him anything about my personal life if it was not completely necessary for my treatment.

           So then how do I figure out what’s happened since my last session?  The question stumped me.  I spent the entire day wandering around, searching for some place or detail that would kindle recognition, a memory, a clue.  I came away with absolutely jack.

           Eventually, I gave up.

The medication Dr. Ellis gave me stirred up some strange side effects.  It would have been nice if Dr. Ellis had thought to warn me about them, but they weren’t too horrible.  I felt a little low at first, like all my limbs were heavy. It felt like I had lead in my fingertips and the soles of my feet.  I sat on the couch until that passed, which took about half an hour.  But as soon as the heavy feeling went away, my head started spinning and I think I might have blacked out.  Then again, that could have been part of the fact that I hadn’t eaten in who knew how long.  Since waking up with that headache I couldn’t force anything down, and I couldn’t remember for the life of me whether or not I had eaten in those two lost days.  On occasion I go a day or so without food, and I can get pretty light-headed during one of those stints.  I don’t usually black out, though.

           I wonder what happened.

//GUARDIAN_ASSIGNED.:~COMMAND://BEGIN_POSSESSION[VESSEL_REACHED][TASK_COMPLETED].

[This is new.  I’m in .reality.  I’ve never really been in .reality before.  I think there was that one time, when I was very young, but we were just passing through… for something.]

[Whose body is this?  I’m in… someone’s home.  Why am I here?]

[This body is fragile.  Are all humans like this?  It’s a surprise they’ve lasted this long.]

[Ah, a journal.  Let’s find out this human’s name…]

[Sarah Kestler.  Sounds familiar.  Where do I know that name from?  Hm.  I guess it doesn’t matter.  How do I get out of this body?  I’m not stuck in here, am I?  What do I do?  Do I… kill it?  No, that doesn’t sound right.  There are people with the same vessel for years.  Oh fuck, will I have to converge with a human?  No, I’m not going to do that.  That’s not even an option.  I’m not a fucking arknza.  How the hell do I get out of this thing?]

[Note to self:  attempting to physically leave the body through actions such as running and jumping does not work.  That only causes the body to perform said action, which can be a problem when within close proximity to objects such as tables, walls, and stairs. And another note to self:  humans are not as durable as arkn and dekn. They require healing when injured. And injury happens easily.  Yet again, I ask myself how they have lasted this long.]

           [If I remember correctly, I once heard a particularly snobbish arkn talk of snapping their fingers to perform certain functions whilst in their vessel.  In all honesty, that sounds like bullshit.  But… I’ve been in this thing for a few hours now.  Anything’s worth a try at this point.  I have shit to do, I can’t just waste an entire day in some human’s delicate meat suit.]

           [Well, here goes.  Do I need to use a certain hand?  Does one get me in the body and one get me out?  I have no clue what I’m doing.  I guess I’ll just… put my fingers together… and… snap?  Huh—]

I was walking down the stairs out of my apartment building when I noticed something strange.  Well, strange is one word for it.  There were little drops of what looked to be blood.  I was pretty damn sure it was blood, but I didn’t want to test that. The heaviest drops were near the ground floor, so I followed them as they lightened, all the way back up to my floor.  And then I followed them to my apartment.  By then there was only one or two every few feet, so small that they would have gone unnoticed if I hadn’t been looking for them.  On my doorknob there was a little red smudge.

           Alright. Great.  As if my life wasn’t weird enough.  Now there’s blood leading to my apartment.  I hadn’t seen any when I was inside just a minute ago.  But, then again, I hadn’t been looking.  I went back inside.

           After about ten minutes of scouring my apartment, searching for any sign of suspicious bodily fluids, I managed to spy a tiny spot of red in the kitchen sink drain.  Upon closer inspection, there was also some on the pump of the soap bottle.  Okay, so, either some poor soul started bleeding on the ground floor and went directly to my apartment in order to clean up—and somehow managed to get in—or I was the poor soul and I just don’t remember any of it happening.  Though the latter seemed unlikely, the former seemed even more unlikely.  Then I guess it’s time for me to do a check for wounds.  I pulled off my hoodie and the search began.

           Following the pattern that the past day had started, my effort was fruitless.  There was not a single scratch, bruise, or bug bite on my body.  I even checked my mouth.  Nothing.  That was when I came to one conclusion:  something’s fucky.

Being a fool, I did not tell Ellis about any of the events of the past week. When he asked about how the medication was treating me, I told him that everything was good, I could tell that it was working.  Indeed, some of the usual bullshit my mind threw at me had abated.  But the trade-off was not exactly what I would call equal.  There were more than a couple times where I would doze off or just straight-up black out, only to wake up anywhere from minutes to hours later, usually in a different spot than where I had started off.  I was never hurt or in any danger, but I was sure as hell worried.

           Not only did the blackouts start happening, but I began seeing things.  Very specific things, though.  Always the same things, actually.  Sometimes, when I would be walking outside or looking out my window or driving my car, I would see these figures.  They all wore the same thing—a long, black cloak or a black hoodie, and a beaked mask. Most of the time they would be there one moment, just at the corner of my vision, but when I realized that they were there and tried to find them again, they’d have disappeared.  It felt like they were watching me, staring through those weird, creepy masks.  I made the mistake one time of asking a lady in the park if she saw the one that was standing just a little bit past the swing set.  She freaked out on me, accusing me of lying just to make her feel unsafe in the park where her children liked to play.  Full-on crazy soccer mom style.  Needless to say I got the hell out of dodge as soon as her back was turned. She made it pretty clear that she hadn’t seen what I had.  And that could either be very good, or very bad.

           It could be good if I was just hallucinating again.  If that were to be the case, then those beaked people wouldn’t be able to harm me, since they would be just a figment of my severely fucked up imagination. And it could be bad if they were real and only I could see them.  That would mean that they could do me harm.  That sounds like a load of shit, but, as I concluded a couple days back: something’s fucky.

           And, frankly, I wanted nothing to do with any of it.

[pickingupbrokenpieces-deactivat]

Saarah you better be carefuull

[sarahkestlerisntdead]

honestly, at this point I don’t know if there’s a way to be careful. it’s all going to shit anyway. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[pickingupbrokenpieces-deactivat]

Yeah, it’s like saying don’t jump into the pool as the person already has their foot in the water

[sarahkestlerisntdead]

more like I've already been pushed in

[sarahkestlerisntdead]

command://_forget_

My head pounded.  The brunt of it was behind my eyes, like someone had taken a jackhammer to my brain in some bullshit construction worker lobotomy.  Jesus, what a great way to wake up. I rolled to my side, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes, as if to shove the headache out the back of my skull. Something in my bed crunched.  I froze mid-movement.  My bed isn’t supposed to be crunchy.  Temporarily ignoring my headache, I threw the covers off and sat up.  What the fuck.

           There were leaves in my bed.  Leaves aren’t supposed to be in my bed.  They’re supposed to be… outside… on the ground.  Not only that, but I was fully dressed, wearing jeans and a jacket. In one of the jacket pockets was a bottle of pills that I vaguely remembered getting from Ellis… yesterday? What day is it?  I searched for my phone.  After nearly burning out my corneas from having the brightness on full blast, I checked the date.  The fifteenth.  My last appointment with Ellis had been on what, the twelfth?  Thirteenth?  The calendar app told me it had been on the thirteenth.  What the fuck, that was two days ago. What… what have I been doing since then?

           I wracked my brain, trying to recall what happened before I apparently went to bed fully-clothed and with a shit ton of leaves.  But there was nothing.  Nothing but static—a fuzz, hovering somewhere beneath the crown of my skull, crackling like manmade thunder, or desert heat.  I opened up the bottle of pills from Ellis, pouring them out on the bed and counting them. Twelve.  That meant that I’d been taking them, despite having an unsettling gap in my memory. Could they be the reason behind that? He didn’t mention any side effects like that.  But I guess that could happen from switching medications so abruptly. I put the pills back in the bottle and set it on my bedside stand.  Ugh, why do I keep my ibuprofen all the way in the bathroom?  That means I have to get up to get it.

           I prepared myself, staring at the ceiling and dreading having to stand.  But I stretched, ridding my body of the soreness that had accumulated from sleep, and swung my legs over the side of the bed.  I need to figure out what I’ve been up to these past two days.

Tracing your steps is considerably more difficult when you have no friends to help you figure out where you went over the course of a day. I considered asking Dr. Ellis if he knew, but then realized that that would be stupid.  How would he know?  I never, not once, told him anything about my personal life if it was not completely necessary for my treatment.

           So then how do I figure out what’s happened since my last session?  The question stumped me.  I spent the entire day wandering around, searching for some place or detail that would kindle recognition, a memory, a clue.  I came away with absolutely jack.

           Eventually, I gave up.

The medication Dr. Ellis gave me stirred up some strange side effects.  It would have been nice if Dr. Ellis had thought to warn me about them, but they weren’t too horrible.  I felt a little low at first, like all my limbs were heavy. It felt like I had lead in my fingertips and the soles of my feet.  I sat on the couch until that passed, which took about half an hour.  But as soon as the heavy feeling went away, my head started spinning and I think I might have blacked out.  Then again, that could have been part of the fact that I hadn’t eaten in who knew how long.  Since waking up with that headache I couldn’t force anything down, and I couldn’t remember for the life of me whether or not I had eaten in those two lost days.  On occasion I go a day or so without food, and I can get pretty light-headed during one of those stints.  I don’t usually black out, though.

           I wonder what happened.

//GUARDIAN_ASSIGNED.:~COMMAND://BEGIN_POSSESSION[VESSEL_REACHED][TASK_COMPLETED].

[This is new.  I’m in .reality.  I’ve never really been in .reality before.  I think there was that one time, when I was very young, but we were just passing through… for something.]

[Whose body is this?  I’m in… someone’s home.  Why am I here?]

[This body is fragile.  Are all humans like this?  It’s a surprise they’ve lasted this long.]

[Ah, a journal.  Let’s find out this human’s name…]

[Sarah Kestler.  Sounds familiar.  Where do I know that name from?  Hm.  I guess it doesn’t matter.  How do I get out of this body?  I’m not stuck in here, am I?  What do I do?  Do I… kill it?  No, that doesn’t sound right.  There are people with the same vessel for years.  Oh fuck, will I have to converge with a human?  No, I’m not going to do that.  That’s not even an option.  I’m not a fucking arknza.  How the hell do I get out of this thing?]

[Note to self:  attempting to physically leave the body through actions such as running and jumping does not work.  That only causes the body to perform said action, which can be a problem when within close proximity to objects such as tables, walls, and stairs. And another note to self:  humans are not as durable as arkn and dekn. They require healing when injured. And injury happens easily.  Yet again, I ask myself how they have lasted this long.]

           [If I remember correctly, I once heard a particularly snobbish arkn talk of snapping their fingers to perform certain functions whilst in their vessel.  In all honesty, that sounds like bullshit.  But… I’ve been in this thing for a few hours now.  Anything’s worth a try at this point.  I have shit to do, I can’t just waste an entire day in some human’s delicate meat suit.]

           [Well, here goes.  Do I need to use a certain hand?  Does one get me in the body and one get me out?  I have no clue what I’m doing.  I guess I’ll just… put my fingers together… and… snap?  Huh—]

I was walking down the stairs out of my apartment building when I noticed something strange.  Well, strange is one word for it.  There were little drops of what looked to be blood.  I was pretty damn sure it was blood, but I didn’t want to test that. The heaviest drops were near the ground floor, so I followed them as they lightened, all the way back up to my floor.  And then I followed them to my apartment.  By then there was only one or two every few feet, so small that they would have gone unnoticed if I hadn’t been looking for them.  On my doorknob there was a little red smudge.

           Alright. Great.  As if my life wasn’t weird enough.  Now there’s blood leading to my apartment.  I hadn’t seen any when I was inside just a minute ago.  But, then again, I hadn’t been looking.  I went back inside.

           After about ten minutes of scouring my apartment, searching for any sign of suspicious bodily fluids, I managed to spy a tiny spot of red in the kitchen sink drain.  Upon closer inspection, there was also some on the pump of the soap bottle.  Okay, so, either some poor soul started bleeding on the ground floor and went directly to my apartment in order to clean up—and somehow managed to get in—or I was the poor soul and I just don’t remember any of it happening.  Though the latter seemed unlikely, the former seemed even more unlikely.  Then I guess it’s time for me to do a check for wounds.  I pulled off my hoodie and the search began.

           Following the pattern that the past day had started, my effort was fruitless.  There was not a single scratch, bruise, or bug bite on my body.  I even checked my mouth.  Nothing.  That was when I came to one conclusion:  something’s fucky.

Being a fool, I did not tell Ellis about any of the events of the past week. When he asked about how the medication was treating me, I told him that everything was good, I could tell that it was working.  Indeed, some of the usual bullshit my mind threw at me had abated.  But the trade-off was not exactly what I would call equal.  There were more than a couple times where I would doze off or just straight-up black out, only to wake up anywhere from minutes to hours later, usually in a different spot than where I had started off.  I was never hurt or in any danger, but I was sure as hell worried.

           Not only did the blackouts start happening, but I began seeing things.  Very specific things, though.  Always the same things, actually.  Sometimes, when I would be walking outside or looking out my window or driving my car, I would see these figures.  They all wore the same thing—a long, black cloak or a black hoodie, and a beaked mask. Most of the time they would be there one moment, just at the corner of my vision, but when I realized that they were there and tried to find them again, they’d have disappeared.  It felt like they were watching me, staring through those weird, creepy masks.  I made the mistake one time of asking a lady in the park if she saw the one that was standing just a little bit past the swing set.  She freaked out on me, accusing me of lying just to make her feel unsafe in the park where her children liked to play.  Full-on crazy soccer mom style.  Needless to say I got the hell out of dodge as soon as her back was turned. She made it pretty clear that she hadn’t seen what I had.  And that could either be very good, or very bad.

           It could be good if I was just hallucinating again.  If that were to be the case, then those beaked people wouldn’t be able to harm me, since they would be just a figment of my severely fucked up imagination. And it could be bad if they were real and only I could see them.  That would mean that they could do me harm.  That sounds like a load of shit, but, as I concluded a couple days back: something’s fucky.

           And, frankly, I wanted nothing to do with any of it.

[pickingupbrokenpieces-deactivat]

Saarah you better be carefuull

[sarahkestlerisntdead]

honestly, at this point I don't know if there's a way to be careful. it's all going to shit anyway. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[sarahkestlerisntdead]

command://_forget_

My head pounded.  The brunt of it was behind my eyes, like someone had taken a jackhammer to my brain in some bullshit construction worker lobotomy.  Jesus, what a great way to wake up. I rolled to my side, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes, as if to shove the headache out the back of my skull. Something in my bed crunched.  I froze mid-movement.  My bed isn’t supposed to be crunchy.  Temporarily ignoring my headache, I threw the covers off and sat up.  What the fuck.

           There were leaves in my bed.  Leaves aren’t supposed to be in my bed.  They’re supposed to be… outside… on the ground.  Not only that, but I was fully dressed, wearing jeans and a jacket. In one of the jacket pockets was a bottle of pills that I vaguely remembered getting from Ellis… yesterday? What day is it?  I searched for my phone.  After nearly burning out my corneas from having the brightness on full blast, I checked the date.  The fifteenth.  My last appointment with Ellis had been on what, the twelfth?  Thirteenth?  The calendar app told me it had been on the thirteenth.  What the fuck, that was two days ago. What… what have I been doing since then?

           I wracked my brain, trying to recall what happened before I apparently went to bed fully-clothed and with a shit ton of leaves.  But there was nothing.  Nothing but static—a fuzz, hovering somewhere beneath the crown of my skull, crackling like manmade thunder, or desert heat.  I opened up the bottle of pills from Ellis, pouring them out on the bed and counting them. Twelve.  That meant that I’d been taking them, despite having an unsettling gap in my memory. Could they be the reason behind that? He didn’t mention any side effects like that.  But I guess that could happen from switching medications so abruptly. I put the pills back in the bottle and set it on my bedside stand.  Ugh, why do I keep my ibuprofen all the way in the bathroom?  That means I have to get up to get it.

           I prepared myself, staring at the ceiling and dreading having to stand.  But I stretched, ridding my body of the soreness that had accumulated from sleep, and swung my legs over the side of the bed.  I need to figure out what I’ve been up to these past two days.

Tracing your steps is considerably more difficult when you have no friends to help you figure out where you went over the course of a day. I considered asking Dr. Ellis if he knew, but then realized that that would be stupid.  How would he know?  I never, not once, told him anything about my personal life if it was not completely necessary for my treatment.

           So then how do I figure out what’s happened since my last session?  The question stumped me.  I spent the entire day wandering around, searching for some place or detail that would kindle recognition, a memory, a clue.  I came away with absolutely jack.

           Eventually, I gave up.

The medication Dr. Ellis gave me stirred up some strange side effects.  It would have been nice if Dr. Ellis had thought to warn me about them, but they weren’t too horrible.  I felt a little low at first, like all my limbs were heavy. It felt like I had lead in my fingertips and the soles of my feet.  I sat on the couch until that passed, which took about half an hour.  But as soon as the heavy feeling went away, my head started spinning and I think I might have blacked out.  Then again, that could have been part of the fact that I hadn’t eaten in who knew how long.  Since waking up with that headache I couldn’t force anything down, and I couldn’t remember for the life of me whether or not I had eaten in those two lost days.  On occasion I go a day or so without food, and I can get pretty light-headed during one of those stints.  I don’t usually black out, though.

           I wonder what happened.

//GUARDIAN_ASSIGNED.:~COMMAND://BEGIN_POSSESSION[VESSEL_REACHED][TASK_COMPLETED].

[This is new.  I’m in .reality.  I’ve never really been in .reality before.  I think there was that one time, when I was very young, but we were just passing through… for something.]

[Whose body is this?  I’m in… someone’s home.  Why am I here?]

[This body is fragile.  Are all humans like this?  It’s a surprise they’ve lasted this long.]

[Ah, a journal.  Let’s find out this human’s name…]

[Sarah Kestler.  Sounds familiar.  Where do I know that name from?  Hm.  I guess it doesn’t matter.  How do I get out of this body?  I’m not stuck in here, am I?  What do I do?  Do I… kill it?  No, that doesn’t sound right.  There are people with the same vessel for years.  Oh fuck, will I have to converge with a human?  No, I’m not going to do that.  That’s not even an option.  I’m not a fucking arknza.  How the hell do I get out of this thing?]

[Note to self:  attempting to physically leave the body through actions such as running and jumping does not work.  That only causes the body to perform said action, which can be a problem when within close proximity to objects such as tables, walls, and stairs. And another note to self:  humans are not as durable as arkn and dekn. They require healing when injured. And injury happens easily.  Yet again, I ask myself how they have lasted this long.]

           [If I remember correctly, I once heard a particularly snobbish arkn talk of snapping their fingers to perform certain functions whilst in their vessel.  In all honesty, that sounds like bullshit.  But… I’ve been in this thing for a few hours now.  Anything’s worth a try at this point.  I have shit to do, I can’t just waste an entire day in some human’s delicate meat suit.]

           [Well, here goes.  Do I need to use a certain hand?  Does one get me in the body and one get me out?  I have no clue what I’m doing.  I guess I’ll just… put my fingers together… and… snap?  Huh—]

I was walking down the stairs out of my apartment building when I noticed something strange.  Well, strange is one word for it.  There were little drops of what looked to be blood.  I was pretty damn sure it was blood, but I didn’t want to test that. The heaviest drops were near the ground floor, so I followed them as they lightened, all the way back up to my floor.  And then I followed them to my apartment.  By then there was only one or two every few feet, so small that they would have gone unnoticed if I hadn’t been looking for them.  On my doorknob there was a little red smudge.

           Alright. Great.  As if my life wasn’t weird enough.  Now there’s blood leading to my apartment.  I hadn’t seen any when I was inside just a minute ago.  But, then again, I hadn’t been looking.  I went back inside.

           After about ten minutes of scouring my apartment, searching for any sign of suspicious bodily fluids, I managed to spy a tiny spot of red in the kitchen sink drain.  Upon closer inspection, there was also some on the pump of the soap bottle.  Okay, so, either some poor soul started bleeding on the ground floor and went directly to my apartment in order to clean up—and somehow managed to get in—or I was the poor soul and I just don’t remember any of it happening.  Though the latter seemed unlikely, the former seemed even more unlikely.  Then I guess it’s time for me to do a check for wounds.  I pulled off my hoodie and the search began.

           Following the pattern that the past day had started, my effort was fruitless.  There was not a single scratch, bruise, or bug bite on my body.  I even checked my mouth.  Nothing.  That was when I came to one conclusion:  something’s fucky.

Being a fool, I did not tell Ellis about any of the events of the past week. When he asked about how the medication was treating me, I told him that everything was good, I could tell that it was working.  Indeed, some of the usual bullshit my mind threw at me had abated.  But the trade-off was not exactly what I would call equal.  There were more than a couple times where I would doze off or just straight-up black out, only to wake up anywhere from minutes to hours later, usually in a different spot than where I had started off.  I was never hurt or in any danger, but I was sure as hell worried.

           Not only did the blackouts start happening, but I began seeing things.  Very specific things, though.  Always the same things, actually.  Sometimes, when I would be walking outside or looking out my window or driving my car, I would see these figures.  They all wore the same thing—a long, black cloak or a black hoodie, and a beaked mask. Most of the time they would be there one moment, just at the corner of my vision, but when I realized that they were there and tried to find them again, they’d have disappeared.  It felt like they were watching me, staring through those weird, creepy masks.  I made the mistake one time of asking a lady in the park if she saw the one that was standing just a little bit past the swing set.  She freaked out on me, accusing me of lying just to make her feel unsafe in the park where her children liked to play.  Full-on crazy soccer mom style.  Needless to say I got the hell out of dodge as soon as her back was turned. She made it pretty clear that she hadn’t seen what I had.  And that could either be very good, or very bad.

           It could be good if I was just hallucinating again.  If that were to be the case, then those beaked people wouldn’t be able to harm me, since they would be just a figment of my severely fucked up imagination. And it could be bad if they were real and only I could see them.  That would mean that they could do me harm.  That sounds like a load of shit, but, as I concluded a couple days back: something’s fucky.

           And, frankly, I wanted nothing to do with any of it.

[sarahkestlerisntdead]

Command://Meet_Sarah

Nightmares.  Horrible, horrible nightmares.  Stabbing pain, right at the base of the skull.  Flashes of darkness, of light, of movement just out of the corner of my vision.  On occasion, voices.  Episodes where my entire body freezes and I am left staring, unable to scream or cry or breathe.  Sometimes I can’t remember who I am, can’t remember my brother’s name, his face, his voice.  Sometimes I can’t remember the house I grew up in.  Sometimes all I see is my own body, broken, bloody—always different, like I’ve been killed over and over and over again.  I’ve lost count of the times I’ve seen myself in death.

           Maybe it’s a sign.  Maybe I’m not supposed to be alive.  Maybe the universe is righting some wrong, and it has yet to catch up with this iteration of me.  It’s possible that I’m better off dead.  What good have I done?  I left my parents and my brother, moving halfway across the country—I haven’t seen them in months.  I have no friends, no connections where I am now.  The only person I talk to is Ellis, and that’s only because I pay for his help. What am I, other than another pill-popping patient?  A name on a list of people that nobody really wants in society?  I’m nothing, really.  Nothing but not dead.

           My name is Sarah Kestler.  And I am very much alive.

“How has the medication been working for you?”  Dr. Ellis asked, holding his pen at the ready.

           I shrugged, making a clicking noise with my tongue.  “It hasn’t really… done anything.”

           “Nothing?”  He cocked his head to the side.

           “Nope, nothing.  I really haven’t noticed any changes at all.  Nothing’s been better, nothing’s been worse.  Just the same.”  I rocked pulled my knees up to my chest, resting my arm across them as I looked absentmindedly around the room.  Such bland walls.  And why beanbags?  Rather childish.  Comfortable, though.

           Dr. Ellis scribbled a few words down in his notebook, clicking his pen at the end to draw my attention back to him.  “Well,” he said, “I was afraid that something like this would occur.  With this specific medication, low doses have the possibility to not take effect, especially on patients like yourself, with a history of treatment.”

           I gave him a funny look.

           “Let me explain,” he said, readjusting how he was sitting.  “You are no stranger to taking medication.  Well, the problem with this one is that, if you have taken ones similar to it in the past, you can build up a sort of immunity to it, especially when the dose is as low as the one you’ve been taking.”

           “So we up the dosage?”  I asked, placing my chin in the crook of my elbow and looking at him.

           “We could,” he said.  “But I think I have another idea.  I don’t want to pump you full of unnecessary amounts of a medication that may never take effect—that is possible, it’s happened before.  You don’t need to go weeks basically without medication. So, I’d like to try a different one. This one, while still in the last few stages of development—it’s safe, trust me—has a much higher success rate.”

           “Alright.  Well, you’re the doctor here, so if you think it’ll help, I’m willing to try.  What’s this new medication called?”

           Dr. Ellis rambled off some long and overly-complicated name that could have stumped the spelling bee champion of the world.

           “So when can I start?”

           “Actually,” Dr. Ellis said, setting down his notebook and pen, “I have a bottle here in the office right now that you can take home with you once we’re done, if you’d like.”  He stood and went to his desk, where he rifled through one of the drawers. There was a familiar rattling noise, and he returned to his seat across from me, holding an orange and white pill bottle.

           Well that was fast, I thought.  Almost like he was waiting for this.

           “There’s enough for two weeks in this bottle. Standard dosage.”  He held the bottle between his thumb and his forefinger and shook it up and down.

           “How much does it cost?”  I looked from his face to the bottle, and then back to his face.

           He grinned.  “That’s the best part, Sarah.  Because of my contributions to certain parts of the company’s research, I’m able to get my hands on a few of these bottles a month, completely free. Isn’t that neat?”

           “Yeah,” I said, “neat….”

           “Here, go ahead and take it.”  He leaned forward and placed the bottle in the palm of my hand, that same grin never leaving his face.

           “So… these should help?”  I studied the label on the bottle for a moment before lifting my head to look at him.

           “Oh, yes, definitely.  For sure.  I have many other patients who are on the same medication, and they swear by it.” He grabbed for his notebook and jotted something down again.

           “Alright.”  I slipped the bottle into my pocket.

           “Also.”  Dr. Ellis straightened up in his beanbag chair.  “Remember to take one every night.  That’s very important.  On occasion there are… distasteful side effects when a patient abruptly stops taking them.”

           “Kinda like withdrawal?”  I glanced down at my pockets, where the bottle rested.

           “Yes,” he nodded.  “Kind of like withdrawal.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, I completely didn’t see you, are you okay? Here, let me—”

           “Nah, you’re good, I didn’t fall on you, did I? I’m sorry—”

           I’m pretty sure we both recognized each other at the same time.

           “You—”

           “Um—”

           “You go first—”

           “No, you go ahead—”

           “Alright.  Um.” He scratched the back of his head, training his gaze on his shoes.  After a few moments of searching for what to say, he looked up at me.  “You’re one of Dr. Ellis’s patients, too, right?”

           “Yeah, I am.  I think I’ve got the appointment time after yours?”  I straightened my shirt out and dusted off my pants.  Whose fault it was wasn’t clear, but we had somehow collided and both of us had gone to the ground.  Instead of getting up, we both sat there, looking at each other.

           “What’s your name?”  He asked, as if he had not caught it the first time, though I had not had the chance to offer it previously.

           “Sarah.  Sarah Kestler.  And yours?” I extended my hand, which was a little scuffed on the heel of the palm from trying to catch myself during the fall.

           “Alex Winter.”  He took my hand and shook it.  “How long have you been going to see Ellis?”

           “Oh, god.  I really don’t know.  It’s been a while.  Well, since I moved here.”  I tried to remember when exactly it was that I started going to Ellis, but the date escaped me.

           “Oh?  Where are you from?”

           “I came up her from the south.  Where from originally doesn’t really matter.”  I shrugged.

           “I hope you like snow, then.  ‘Cause we sure do get a lot of it around here.”  He chuckled.

           “Oh, I know.  I’ve lived here for the past few years.  I’ll take snow over alligators any day.”

           “Jesus, alligators?”

           “No, can’t say I’ve ever seen any Jesus gators running around the swamps—just regular ones.”  I said.  I tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t help laughing at my own joke.

           He laughed too.  “Alright, I walked right into that one.”

           “You did.  So, you…” I trailed off, staring at a point in space far past him.

           “What…?”  Alex turned to look over his shoulder, and then back at me.  “Um, what are you looking at?”

           “What the fuck is that.”  I clambered to my feet, pointing at a dark figure in the distance.  Alex stood as well, whirling around to see what I was pointing at.

           About fifty yards away, behind a small copse of trees, stood a person wearing a black cloak and a beaked mask.  They were watching us, but as soon as I drew our attention to them, they bolted.  Their cloak billowing out behind them, they took off at a full sprint towards the deeper section of the woods that were behind Dr. Ellis’s office building.  I exchanged a look with Alex, who looked just as shocked as I felt, and took off after the figure.

           Alex fell behind almost immediately, not having expected me to start running.  I could hear him behind me—he was following—but I did not slow down.  I had to keep the figure in my sights.  It weaved between tree trunks, leapt over underbrush, ducked beneath low-hanging branches.  But, in spite of its best efforts, I was gaining on it.  Thorns tore at its cloak and roots tugged at its feet as it ran. I had the home turf advantage.  As I grew closer, I could hear a noise that sounded like its breath, but it was fuzzy and crackling, like the static residue on a TV screen after you turned it off.  That mask must have made it difficult for whoever was beneath it to breathe.

           The figure stumbled.  I took the opportunity presented and lunged forward, latching onto the figure’s legs and bringing us both crashing to the ground, rolling in a cloud of dead leaves and cold dirt.  They kicked wildly, jacking me in the face a couple of times until I tucked my head and hunched my shoulders for protection, but I refused to let go.  I knotted my fingers around the cloak, pulling it in towards me with all the force I could muster, though I kept my eyes squeezed shut in case things got even uglier.  The figure writhed, turning and kicking and clawing at the ground like a wild animal.  A horrible screeched wrought the air and I opened my eyes in shock and fear.  The figure had turned to face me, still rabidly struggling, and was looking me dead in the face.  I could not see their eyes, but I knew that they were trained on mine.  I felt something inside of me grow cold as they reached out with one gloved hand and placed it on my forehead, fingers cupping the upper half of my face.  From somewhere in the back of my head came a scream of static, loud enough to shake my vision and my bones, and my entire world went black.

[sarahkestlerisntdead]

Seraphina::Torment [Part Two]

“Lilis,” she said, propping her chin up in the palm of her hand.

           “Yes?”  The dekn turned to look at her.

           “You said that you found me.  When I was a newborn.”

           “I did.”

           “Well,” Seraphina sighed, avoiding eye contact, and mumbled something into her hand.

           “What was that?”  Lilis inched closer, trying to listen.

           Seraphina’s cheeks flushed red, and she slapped her hand down onto the table in front of her, unblocking her mouth.  “What happened to my birth parents?”

           Lilis froze.  She had not expected a question such as that.  “Your—your birth parents.”

           Seraphina’s blush only deepened.  It was clear to the older dekn that she was very embarrassed. “Yeah, them.  You never told me what happened to them.”

           “Oh.”

           Seraphina continued before Lilis had the time to think of a response.  “I don’t want you to think that I want to go back to them—I don’t remember them.  How could I?  But… I’ve been trying to figure it out.  You’ve never really told me where I’m from.  And—and I understand.  A lot of bad things happened after you took me in.  Because you took me in.  I know all these little details about how I came to be yours, but a lot of the big ones—the really important ones—are missing.  I just… I want to know.”  The words spilled out of her mouth, and at the end she looked up at Lilis, eyes filled with questions and—it twisted Lilis’s heart to realize it—pain.

           Lilis reached out, enfolding Seraphina’s hand in hers.  “I understand.  I’ve never known how to broach the subject—you’re the only child I’ve ever raised, so this has all been trial and error for me.  And I’m going to be upfront with you, Sera.  I don’t have all the answers.  I have some.  But there are some things I just don’t know.  Will that be okay?”

           Seraphina nodded.

           Lilis took a deep breath, holding it in her lungs for a moment before gradually letting it out.  Her heart beat fast.  She hadn’t expected an inevitable conversation to be so stressful.  She’s a teenager.  It’s time. She deserves answers.  She braced herself.  “What do you want to know?”

           “Um…”  Seraphina’s brow furrowed.  She hadn’t thought that far—what question did she want answered first?  “Who are my parents?  Where are they now?”

Seraphina laid back, expanding the range of her gaze to encompass as much of the night sky as she could.  Her breath billowed out in a silvery cloud above her head as her chest rose and fell, following the slow tempo of the stars.  The city around her grew quiet, falling into the hush of nighttime.  From within her pocket there came a gentle buzz. She sat up again, fishing out a small glass and metal device.  At a touch from her fingertip it lit up, displaying a headline in bold red lettering: CLOUD9 STREAM OF INFERNOUS TORMENT OF KNIGHT ELLPAGG TO BEGIN IN THREE HOURS – STAY TUNED FOR UPDATES. Seraphina turned the screen off and set it aside.

           Quite the show that will surely turn out to be.  She did not know much about the Knight Ellpagg—only that he was sent into the Infernous in place of King Uriel, and that numbers of arkn were falling over themselves to watch the torment as it unfolded.  She found it distasteful.  So many arkn with so many better things to be doing.  Yet, instead, they watch members of their own kind suffer in the playground of the Carver?  It was only one of the reasons why she felt little connection to the civilian world.

           Footsteps were approaching.  Seraphina turned.  Walking across the rooftop was a winged figure, whom she recognized as Athaliah’s son, Hazih’el.  He was only a couple years older than her, and they had grown up together.  He had not inherited Athaliah’s healing powers—instead, he took after his other mother, Tamar, who was not a member of the Valkyrium.  Both Tamar and Hazih’el were gifted with an eye for mechanics and engineering. Hazih’el was an apprentice under the main mechanic of the Valks, designing weapons and tools.  He had once attempted to learn magic under the guidance of Seraphina when they were both very young, but quit after an accident that had left him with a large burn down the side of his face and neck.  His mother healed him, but he and Seraphina never tried that again.  She couldn’t wipe the memory away, and she was sure he couldn’t either.

           “You look thoughtful,” he said, breaking Seraphina from her reverie.  “Where’s your mind, Phi?  What are you thinking about?”  He sat down beside her, crossing his legs and wrapping one arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, resting her head on his chest.

           “I dunno,” she replied.  “What are you doing up here?  I thought you had something planned with Zachariah.”

           He shrugged, jostling her head.  “Zac cancelled, his brother needed him for something.  So I thought I’d come see you.”

           “How’d you know I was up here?”  She asked.  It was not secret that she spent many of her nights up on the rooftop, but it was not something she openly advertised, either.

           “Well, I saw your footprints down the west hall, and then from there the hinges on the stairwell door were still warm from having been used, and then—”  He cut himself off, chuckling.  “I asked your mom.”

           “I figured as much.”  She smiled.  Then she sat back up, frowning.  “Did you see the news?”

           “About the Cloud9 stream?  Yeah.”  He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.  “You okay?”

           She considered the question for a moment. “Yeah, I am.  I don’t know much about him, so it’s not my place to say whether or not he deserved this, but streaming it for entertainment is another issue entirely.”

           “Are you going to watch it?”

           “Yeah.”  Seraphina felt a twinge in her chest at taking part in the madness.  “I want to see the Infernous.”

Another buzz came from Seraphina’s pocket, accompanied by a more distant one coming from somewhere on Hazih’el, waking the two of them up. “It’s starting,” mumbled Hazih’el, fumbling for his device.  “Fuck, it’s cold.”  His numb fingers dropped the glass screen onto the ground and he swore again. Seraphina laughed.  “Can we go inside?  I’m freezing.  Oh, god, my neck hurts.  Who thought it was a good idea to fall asleep out here?”  He stood, stretching out his arms and back, shaking out his wings. His entire body shivered.

           “You fell asleep first, Haz.  On me.  I couldn’t move, so I fell asleep too.  This is your fault.”  Seraphina reached for Hazih’el’s hand and he pulled her to her feet.

           “I wouldn’t be out here if you hadn’t been out here,” he countered, wiping a bit of dirt off of her back.

           “You wouldn’t have come up here if Zachariah hadn’t ditched you for his brother.”

           “You’re right,” Hazih’el said.  “This is all Zac’s fault.”  Then he laughed.  “Come on, we can watch it at my place.  My moms are out on a date, being gay and shit.  And you’re always welcome over.”

           “Then let’s go.  Just let me stop by and let Lilis know where I’ll be.”

           “Alright.  We need to hurry, though—what will people think if we miss the first few minutes? That would be un-arkn of us.”  He snorted and grabbed her hand, leading her to the stairs.

 “Hey, Zac got done with that stuff with his brother a bit early, would it be cool with you if he comes join us?  He’s not really interested in all this Ellpagg stuff either, but he says he’d still like to see me.”  Hazih’el looked hopefully at Seraphina.

           “Of course that’s fine.  Who am I to stop you?”  She laughed at the silly grin that came over his face.  He ducked back into the kitchen, talking rapidly into the phone. After a minute or two he returned to the couch, bouncing a little bit before plopping down on the cushion beside Seraphina.

           “How long will it take for him to get here?” She asked.

           “Oh, about five minutes or so?  He’s a fast flier.”  Hazih’el turned back to the screen on the wall of the room.  “What did I miss?”

           “Well,” said Seraphina, “he’s been crying consistently for about the past fifteen minutes, so not much.”

           “Damn.  You think he’d run out of tears at some point.”

           The two of them watched the memory-less arkn wander through a dark house, trying doors and hiding from the horrors of the Infernous.  It was not what she had expected.  But, then again, when she heard stories of the Infernous, she had never really known what to imagine it as.  It was different for everyone, building on their personal fears.  What would my Infernous be?

           A knock came at the door.  Hazih’el jumped off the couch.  “That’s Zac!”  He rushed over, throwing open the door and immediately embracing the arkn that stood out in the hall.  “Come on, come in,” Hazih’el said, dragging Zachariah in by the hand.  “You remember Seraphina, right?”

           The other arkn scrunched up his face, cheeks reddening.  “Um… no?”

           Seraphina stood, smiling.  “That’s alright.  I don’t believe we’ve actually met before.  Haz has just told me a lot about you.  I think he likes you a little bit.”  She offered her hand, which he took in greeting.  “Like he said, I’m Seraphina.  It’s nice to finally meet you.”

           “It’s nice to meet you, too.  I’m Zachariah.”  He flashed a grin.

           “Come on, let’s sit down,” Hazih’el said.  “We wouldn’t want to miss more of Ellpagg crying in a dark house.  That’s my favorite part.”

           They all sat down, Hazih’el taking up the spot in the middle.  He laid his legs across Seraphina’s lap, resting his head in Zachariah’s and leaning up to kiss him every once in a while.  They chattered about the stream, each of them only halfway paying attention.

           “How long have you two been dating?” Seraphina asked.

           The boys exchanged a glance.  Hazih’el was the one to answer.  “A year and a half, now, is that right?”  Zachariah nodded.  “Yeah, a year and a half.”

           “Alright, cool.  That’s—holy shit.”  Seraphina froze, mouth half-open.  “Did you guys see that?”  She pointed at the screen, which was still relaying the shaky view from Ellpagg’s camera.

           “See what?”  Zachariah asked.

           “There was—I saw something, in the stream.  It was like…” She couldn’t find the right word. “There’s something in the Infernous with him, some… I don’t know what it was, exactly.  You guys didn’t see that?”  There’s no way to play it back, the stream is in real time.  Damn it.

           “Sorry, Phi,” said Hazih’el.  “I think we were too busy being gay to catch it.”

           “It’s alright,” she said.  “It’s getting late, anyway.  Do you mind if I head back to my place?  I don’t know how much of this crying-in-the-dark I can take.”

           “I totally understand.  Do you want me to walk you home?”  Hazih’el asked.

           “No,” she waved him down, “I’ll be fine.  You two have fun.  But not too much fun.”  She smiled at the two of them and left.

Seraphina sat down, swinging her legs over the edge of the rooftop, feeling the wind tugging at her clothes.  Her feet dangled about eight stories off the ground, where the streetlamps were nothing but twigs and any people out at that hour were specks. Like Hazih’el had said earlier, it was cold.  The wind drove a sharp chill into Seraphina’s skin, and early morning frost had begun to coat the rooftop.  To warm herself, she murmured a few words and brought to life a small fire, which hovered in the air beside her and danced whenever the wind picked up.  She pulled her wings close around her body and resumed watching the Cloud9 stream.  She felt bad that she had lied to Hazih’el about why she was leaving.  But she needed to watch it on her own.  She needed to know what it was that she saw during that split second.  She needed to see more of the Infernous.

“Lilis,” said Seraphina.

           “Yes?”  The dekn glanced up from her work.

           “You said you knew the Carver.”

           Lilis froze, eyes locking onto Seraphina’s. She shook her head, straightening up and facing Seraphina completely.  “Yes,” she said slowly, “I did.”

           Seraphina swallowed, maintaining eye contact despite her brain urging her to look away, to drop the subject.  “How did you know him, exactly?”

           Lilis exhaled, running one hand through her hair. She pulled out a chair and sat across from Seraphina, both elbows resting on the surface of their dining room table.  “I worked for him.  In a way. Why—why do you ask, Sera?”

           “Why did you leave?  You didn’t have to join the Valkyrium.  You didn’t have to be surrounded by arkn.  Why did you do it?”

           Lilis worried her bottom lip with her teeth for a moment before saying, “I found you.  You know this.  I found you and I came here to protect you.”

           “But you didn’t have to.”

           “No,” Lilis said.  “I didn’t.  Seraphina, why are you asking me this?  You know the answer.  What are you getting at, darling?”  She reached out, placing her hand on Seraphina’s.

           Seraphina opened her mouth to answer, but then stopped. Why am I asking this?  She knew why. What do I tell her?  She knew that the truth was the best option, but she didn’t know how she would react. She pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and her forefinger, her eyes squeezed shut as she thought.

           “Seraphina, what is it?”

           Seraphina withdrew both of her hands, placing them in her lap.  “I’ve been watching the Cloud9 stream of Ellpagg’s torment.”

           Shadows fell over Lilis’s eyes.  “I told you not to.”

           “I know—”

           “Why the hell did you think that was a good idea?” Lilis demanded.

           “I don’t know, I—I just wanted to see—”

           “Seraphina, I told you to stay away from that, it has nothing in it that you need to see. The Infernous is not a good place.  And Ellpagg—” there was pain in her eyes, but it was not her own “—you don’t want anything to do with him.”  She watched Seraphina carefully, then added, “He’s in there for a reason.”

           Seraphina squeezed her own fingers until she could feel her pulse in the tips.  “But why? Why do you want me to act like none of this is going on, like it doesn’t matter to me?”

           “You know why, Sera.  We’ve been over this.  You promised me you wouldn’t watch it.”

           “I just wanted… I wanted to see the Infernous. And you can’t take me there, and that was the next closest thing… I’m sorry, Lilis.  But you should know how much this is important to me—you should know why it’s important to me.  I need to watch it.  I have to see.”  Seraphina laid her head down in her palms.

           Lilis sighed.  She stood up and moved around the table to kneel beside Seraphina, wrapping one arm around her shoulders.  “I know this means a lot to you.  I’m just scared it will hurt you.  Look. We’ll watch it together.  If you’re going to go through this, you’re not going through it alone.  Is that alright?”

           Seraphina lifted her head and nodded.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”

           “It’s alright.  This whole thing is… much more complicated than it needs to be.”

           “Well, I’m involved, and I think that that, by proxy, complicates things.”

           Lilis chuckled.  “We’re a little complicated.”  She straightened up, patting Seraphina on the back before returning to her seat.  “So, how has the stream been going so far?”

           “Oh, it’s mostly been a lot of crying.  Like, an inordinate amount.  I didn’t expect him to cry so much.  It’s pretty much all he does.  The Carver is there.  I guess that’s why I asked.  He’s kind of a dick.”

           “He’s definitely a dick, trust me.”

The notification came in the middle of the night, only a few hours after Seraphina had returned home from her rooftop spot.  She was roused from her sleep when the vibration of the device caused it to inch off of the bedside table and clatter to the floor.  She rolled over, reaching down and feeling around on the floor, her fingers clumsy with sleep.  When she pulled the screen in close to her face the light stung her eyes, causing her to nearly drop it again.  After a few moments devoted to changing the amount of light the thing emitted, she squinted her eyes and focused in on the headline, written in the same bold red:  CLOUD9 STREAM INTERRUPTED – KNIGHT ELLPAGG LEFT INFERNOUS – STAY TUNED FOR UPDATES.

           Seraphina bolted straight upright, clutching the device so hard it hurt her hands.  Her heart had jumped into her throat, and there was a sick twist in her stomach.  He’s out.  She could feel it, somewhere deep inside her.  It burned.

Traitor.  The word rang in her head, echoing like the clatter of sword on shield in a cathedral.  Traitor, traitor, traitor.  She steadied her hand.  The blood roared in her ears, hissing the word over and over and over again. She could feel Deloran’s gaze on her. She inhaled, drawing the air through parted lips, and held it.  She drew back her arm, holding the knife in a sure grasp.  For just a moment, all thoughts left her mind.  Her arm snapped forward like a snake striking, shooting the knife forward to slice through the air and stick cleanly in the target.  And she exhaled, the air hissing out between her teeth.

           “Good,” said Deloran from where they sat, “very good.”

           Seraphina retrieved her knife from where it was embedded in the target dummy—smack in the center, only mere millimeters from where her last throws had landed.  She returned the knife to its place on the weapons table and went to go hear what Deloran had to say about this throw.

           “Your accuracy has improved immensely since we began your training.  The hours you’ve put into this have been well spent—I hope you know that.”  They clapped her on the shoulder.  “But,” they paused, “you always look so angry.  So tense.  You need to drop that tension.  That is what will come back to bite you in the end.  Why are you so angry whenever you train, Seraphina?”

           The word came spiraling back, swarming her brain like a plague of flying beetles.  Traitor.  Traitor.  Traitor. “I can’t help but think of those that we set out to neutralize.  The enemies of the arkn.  The…” The word clawed its way up her throat, throwing itself against her teeth, begging to be let out.  “The traitors.”

           Deloran nodded.  “Anyone in particular?”

           Seraphina paused, testing out the response in her head before voicing it.  “The ex-king, Uriel, who abandoned his people.  And his bastard son, the traitor Ellpagg, who forsook his race and dubbed himself a false god.”

           “I see.  Is there a reason why you feel so vehemently towards those two?”  Deloran leaned up against the target dummy, watching Seraphina with dark, attentive eyes.

           Seraphina glanced away, studying the ground while she searched for a response.  “Look at the ruin they’ve caused,” she said.  “The chaos.”

           “You’re right,” Deloran said.  “You aren’t alone in this.  There are many of us who feel strongly about Uriel and his son and what they have done.  But that does not mean that you should hold onto that and let it fuel you—before you know it you will be burned up just as much as it.  Draw strength from your training, your knowledge.  From those around you.  From the cause.  It will be much less draining.  And eventually, all fury falls flat.  One cannot run on rage alone.  I’ve seen many try and fail, and I don’t want you to be one of them.  Okay?”  They placed a hand on each of Seraphina’s shoulders, looking them straight in the eyes.

           Seraphina nodded.  “Okay.”

           Deloran smiled.  “Good.  Now that’s all I have for you today.  Pick up your knives and go.  Have dinner with your mother or something.  Relax.  Get that tension out of those shoulders—I could feel it.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”  They waved and walked off.

           Seraphina gathered her knives, wiping each one down with a velveteen cloth before slipping it into its sheath.  She screwed her eyes shut, turning Deloran’s words over in her mind.  One cannot run on rage alone.  She took a deep breath, feeling the air fill her lungs, expand her ribcage and straighten her back.  But the air was knocked from her as one word came ringing back into her skull.

           Traitor.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

[sarahkestlerisntdead]

Lilis::Seraphina [Part One]

The dekn held the newborn arkn close to her chest, head bowed to look at it. Its tiny body, frail and naked, trembled in her arms.  The dekn conjured a dark-feathered screech owl, then turned to it and gave it a command. “Fetch me a blanket.”  The bird departed on silent wings.

           The newborn opened its mouth, revealing bright pink gums, and let out a warbling cry.  The dekn recoiled at the sound, high and sharp and crackling like living static.  What am I supposed to do with this?  She thought, raising the child into the air in a vague swinging motion.  Its eyes rolled around in its head, as if they couldn’t focus in on the world around them, but the sound stopped.  A globule of saliva ran down the infant’s chin.  I can’t keep it.

           The owl returned, swooping down to perch on the dekn’s shoulder, an old blanket grasped in one set of talons.  The dekn waved the owl away, allowing it to dissipate into shimmering darkness, but leaving behind the blanket.  The dekn crouched down, placed the infant gently on the ground, and, pulling the blanket from her shoulder, swaddled it to the best of her abilities.  The presence of the blanket, soft against the newborn’s even softer skin and keeping its limbs tucked in close to its body, sparked an immediate change in demeanor. Its eyes fluttered sleepily and a drawn-out, drowsy chirp sounded from somewhere deep in its chest, and within seconds it was asleep.

           What now?  The dekn glanced around, pulling the infant in towards the warmth of her body.  I don’t know how to take care of a baby.  It’s not safe here.  She pulled her cloak around the both of them.  I need to get it somewhere safe.

The man that answered the door regarded her with disdain.  “You want us to take in a child?”  His eyes darted towards the bundle in her arms.  “An infant, no less.  We are not a daycare.  Take it somewhere else.”  He slammed the door in her face without waiting for a response.

           The dekn deflated, shoulders slumping forward as a long sigh escaped her.  I’m running out of options.  She ducked her head and kept walking, wandering aimlessly through the city streets.  Above her head the sky darkened to a heavy purple, and streetlamps gradually flickered on, casting long shadows and bathing the stone beneath her feet in watery gold.

           A figure stepped out from an alley two blocks down from the dekn, pausing at the street corner and leaning against one of the streetlamps.  She could feel the figure’s eyes on her, and the hair on the back of her neck pricked up. She knew danger when it was around. With a command muttered under her breath, she conjured a black snake in her sleeve.  The snake climbed its way up her arm and to her neck, peering out above her collar.  She allowed herself to see through its eyes for just a moment, becoming blind to the street and the figure in front of her.  Through the snake she saw a blurry, shimmering world.  There was a warm flash of movement beneath a dark awning—someone was following her at a distance.  The dekn let her mind slip away from that of the snake, and the figure leaning on the streetlamp came back into focus.

           A glint of light on metal caught her eye. A bronze blade warped the lamplight that spilled onto the figure from above, sending flashes down the street as they breathed.  The dekn held the infant tighter.  She kept walking.  The night grew darker around her.

           An owl materialized in the air above the buildings at a word whispered by the dekn, alighting on one of the streetlamps and watching.  From its eyes she could survey the entire street.  There looked to be only two figures around her.  She could handle two.  She hoped that she wouldn’t have to, but she knew that she could if it came down to it.

           The figure in front of her was only a block away, but she kept her pace.  Showing intimidation is the first mistake you can make.  She remembered what she was taught.  If you act weak, you let weakness in.  She would not act weak.  But what of the newborn in her arms?

           She was closing the distance between herself and the figure.  The snake draped over her shoulders coiled in apprehension, its rough scales scratching at her neck.  The owl glided from its streetlamp perch to the edge of the building behind the armed figure.  Pay them no mind.  Just keep walking.  You need to find somewhere safe for the child, remember that.

           “Hey, darling, where are you going at a time like this?”  The figure’s voice sent a tremor through the dekn’s bones, but she did not stop walking. She was only a few steps from crossing in front of him.  “Are you ignoring me, sweetheart?”  The dekn kept walking.  “Now whose baby is that, because it sure as hell isn’t yours.”

           The last statement was coated in poisoned honey, dripping from the figure’s lips like blood and anger.  The dekn forced herself to maintain a steady pace, moving past the figure on the street.  She could feel his eyes on her.  The snake in her collar flicked its tongue onto the sensitive skin of her neck. That was her cue.

           The dekn lunged to the side, moving in a wide arc to the other side of the street, where in one fluid movement she set the newborn down against a building and conjured an entire swarming nest of snakes to protect it.  The figure that had been leaning on the streetlamp leapt forward, baring his teeth as his knife sliced through the air between them.  “Dekn bitch,” he snarled.

           The second figure had broken into a sprint and was closing in on his partner.  The dekn maneuvered back into the street, drawing the two men away from the infant. She looked them over, searching for signs of gang involvement or defining traits.  They were both arkn.  They both wore street clothes.  Their wings were both roughed up and dull.  One had a long scar running along his jaw—it looked surgical.  The other wore his hands wrapped, as if prepared for a fistfight.  But she could find no clues as to any organizational involvement—the two were loners, looking to pick fights against unprepared dekn.

           Tonight they chose the wrong dekn to fuck with. She threw the first punch, ducking forward beneath the wide arc of a slash from the scarred arkn’s knife and firing a cross up into his jaw, right where the scar looked its worst.  The arkn jerked back, spitting in her face. His arms grasped wildly, trying to pull her in, but by the time he recovered from the punch she was gone—out of reach, poised on the balls of her feet, hands held at the ready, entire body on alert.

           That was when the second arkn joined the fray. In a whirl of light he summoned what appeared to be a copper mace.  Both of their weapons are coated in copper. The dekn tucked that piece of information away into the back of her mind—she didn’t have much time to do much else, as the mace, hoisted high above the arkn’s head, was hurtling down towards her.  She side-stepped, drawing her knee up to her chest and firing out a kick into the arkn’s side.  Ribs cracked under the force of the blow, which sent the arkn to the ground, his mace clattering to the gutter.

           The scarred arkn took advantage of the distraction, tackling the dekn and bringing them both to the ground.  The impact rattled her, but only for a second—the knife against her throat was a more pressing matter.  Warm breath drifted across her ear as the arkn whispered, “Stand up, darling.”

           She did as he asked, standing with him behind her, one arm pressed tightly across her shoulders, keeping her restrained, and the other holding the knife, keeping her compliant.  The other arkn, back on his feet, dusted himself off, wheezing heavily, and picked up his mace.  He sauntered—limping slightly—up to the dekn.  “That was a big mistake you made there, miss.  We only wanted to talk.”  He laughed, blowing rancid breath into her face.  “Now why don’t you tell me, what are you doing with an arkn child?  In case you haven’t noticed, you’re a dekn. That baby’s not one of your kind.” He said the words “your kind” with heavy disdain, letting them poison the air between them before moving on.  “You need to keep your filthy hands off of us arkn. Because do you know what we do to dekn that decide to fuck with our kind?”

           On cue, the edge of the knife bit into her throat, drawing a thin stream of blood that trickled down and pooled in the hollow of her clavicle.  This drew a sick grin from the arkn with the mace.  “I’m not feeling very forgiving tonight,” he purred, motioning to where she had kicked him.  “I think we’ll have to make an example of you—show your kind what happens when you put your hands on an arkn.”  He looked at his partner, giving a small, jerky nod.  “Give her a little smile.  That grimace really doesn’t suit her.”

           The scarred arkn drew the knife up towards her jaw, letting the blade run over her skin, whispering a dry, hollow metallic note. The dekn hissed a breathy command, eyes focused on a point off to the side.  The scarred arkn paused.  “What did you say, sweetheart?  I didn’t catch that.  Mind repeating it for m—”  He was cut off by the snake, still hidden in her collar, striking.  Its fangs dug into his cheek, sinking in deep enough to hit bone. He screamed as the venom was released, burning through his face, and he staggered backwards, clawing at the snake, trying desperately to pull it off, but that only made it worse.  The creature held on, draining all of its reserves into him, under command to let go only when one of them was dead.

           The dekn lurched into action, dropping her head and charging the arkn with the mace.  His face had gone pale as he watched what happened to his partner, and he raised his weapon shakily, readying a strike.  But she was already upon him, a scream tearing from her bared teeth as she gored the arkn with her horns, pushing them deep into his torso, feeling the snapping of bone and the piercing of flesh.  Blood flowed down into her hair and eyes, blurring the world in hot, gushing red, but she kept running, driving the arkn onto the sidewalk and against a wall.  The man screamed, hitting her over and over again with his mace and snapping a half of one of her horns off inside his own body, but his struggles were growing weaker. His scream turned to a gurgle as liquid filled his punctured lungs, pumped in by a heart that was slowly shredding itself to pieces on jagged bone.  His body slumped to the ground, heavy and still.  The dekn planted her foot on his chest, only inches below her horns, and yanked herself away from the body.  One side of her head was considerably lighter than the other, with a large branch of her right horn left behind in the arkn’s chest.  She glanced over her shoulder at the scarred arkn, who had fallen silent in the time she had attacked his partner.  Her snake was a few feet away, slithering towards her across the street, leaving behind a trail of blood.  When it reached her she picked it up and praised it, stroking its bloody face before allowing it to dissipate into the night air.  She turned back to the arkn in front of her and grasped the end of her broken horn, pulling it out of his body with a low sucking noise. With that in hand she made her way back to the infant.

           Her snakes had coiled around the swaddled arkn, forming an extra, writhing layer against the night’s dropping temperatures. She waved them away and picked up the child, holding it close to her chest with one arm.  In her fingertips she could feel the tiny thing’s heartbeat. While she was fighting it had managed to wriggle one arm out of its blanket cocoon, and it reached up to touch her face.  When it withdrew its hand, its fingers were coated in blood.

“Clever use of snakes to dispose of the bodies.”

           “Thank you, sir.”

           “What did you say your name was again? Apologies for my memory, it is late.”

           “Lilis, sir.”

           “Lilis.”  He tested the name, accentuating each sound.  “I won’t forget.”  He paused, glancing at the infant in her arms.  “The father…?”

           “As I told you.  It’s the only possibility—there are no other arkn there.”

           He nodded.  “I see.  And the mother…?”

           She shook her head.

           “So the child…”  He trailed off.  “I see. It is a good thing that you’ve taken her in.  May I—may I hold her?  It has been so long since I’ve held an infant.  My son is grown, you see, and I miss it.”  He smiled sheepishly.

           She looked down at the child, who was fast asleep in her arms, and then back up at the large arkn before her.  “Yes,” she said.  “Of course.”  Her voice wavered.

           He paused.  “I understand if you do not trust me—you were just attacked by two of my kind.  If it helps quell your fears, they were two that we were planning on taking down a notch. They’ve been attacking dekn sporadically for the past months.  But I can assure you to the best of my abilities that I will not harm her.”  He reached over and turned around a framed photograph, revealing a portrait of himself, a smiling woman, and a young boy making a silly face, with one wing flared out.  “My family,” he said.

           Lilis nodded, swallowing.  She tucked away a stray corner of the blanket and gingerly passed the infant to the man.  He received her with gentle hands, cooing as the infant’s eyes blinked open.  He talked to her, murmuring words of care and safety as he rocked her in his arms.  Lilis watched, surprised by how he handled the child.  Her shoulders fell, relaxing for the first time in hours, and suddenly she felt exhausted.  The man noticed and smiled.  “I have a spare cot in the guest room, for situations exactly like this.  Go, rest.  I will care for the child.  Though it has been years, I have not forgotten how.  She will be safe in my hands, I swear it.”

           Lilis nodded again.  Her limbs and eyelids felt heavy—everything was heavy.  When was the last time she had slept?  She stood.  “Thank you, sir.  I will not forget what you have done for me,” she said.

           “Thank you, Lilis.  You have done us a great service.”  He ran his thumb over the baby’s soft, round cheek, watching the dekn move to the door. Before she could leave he called softly to her, careful not to disturb the child, who was drifting back off into sleep.  The dekn turned, eyes tired but attentive.

           “Yes, sir?”  She said.

           He smiled.  “Welcome to the Valkyrium.”

Lilis grimaced, hissing through gritted teeth as the ice touched her swollen face.

           Seraphina looked up at her in concern.  “Lilis,” the toddler said, “are you okay?”

           Lilis forced a pained smile.  “Yes, my darling.  I’m okay.  Just a little bruised, but don’t you worry.”  However, the look on the child’s face told her that she was going to worry.

           “What happened?”

           Why do you always ask the right questions?  Lilis sighed. “Do you remember when I told you that I used to work for someone else, before I met Maal and the Valks?”

           “Yes, then you found me and left.”

           She doesn’t forget anything.  “Well, my old boss is not happy that I left, even though it’s been a few years.”

           Seraphina let out a scandalized gasp.  “Did he do this to you?”

           Lilis couldn’t help but chuckle, despite how it made her lungs ache.  “Yes, my sweet.  Some of his men found me and made it clear that they were not happy with the choice I made.  But—” she winced as the pain flared up “—it’s over now.  They’ve made their point.  So don’t you worry.”

           The toddler crossed her arms, her bottom lip sticking out in an angry pout.  “They didn’t need to hurt you,” she said.  “If they do that again, I’ll hurt them.  I’ll hurt them bad.”

           “Now, Seraphina, you don’t need to go around picking fights where it’s unnecessary.  It’s settled.  The bruises will heal and it will be in the past.  I don’t regret my choice.  I have you, and you’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”  Reaching down with one arm, she hoisted the child into her lap. “Anyway, aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

           Seraphina’s eyes widened—she was caught.  “Um.”  She looked around, searching for an excuse.  “I, uh… I needed a snack?”  She forced a grin, knowing that the dekn would not believe her.  “I’ll get back in bed,” she said, sliding out of Lilis’s lap and skittering down the hall to her room.

           “Now stay in bed this time,” Lilis called after her, “or the lurkers will come and pluck your feathers!”

           From the hall came the sound of a shrill, dramatic squeal, and Lilis laughed.  She shook her head, sighing as she thought to herself, How did we get here?  How have we made it this far?

           She pressed the ice against her skin and closed her eyes.

Tears filled the young arkn’s eyes.  “Ow,” she said, lip quivering, “that really hurt.”

           Only a few moments before, Seraphina had burned herself.  She clutched her hand, trying to force back the tears, but the wound had already blistered. Lilis crouched down next to her.  “Oh, sweet, I’m sorry.  Let’s go get that taken care of.”  She hoisted the child into her arms, careful not to knock around the burned limb too much.  Seraphina sniffled quietly as Lilis walked, the arkn’s wings pulled tight around her body, shielding her from view.

           “Is she okay?”  Asked Athaliah as they approached.

           “She burned herself practicing magic.  Do you mind healing her?”  Lilis set Seraphina down.

           “I don’t mind at all.  It is what I’m here for, after all,” said the older arkn, who went down on one knee so as to be on Seraphina’s level.  The young arkn wiped her eyes with her uninjured hand, while shakily holding out the other.  Athaliah took it between her palms and, breathing out a short incantation, undid the damage from the burn.  She ran her fingertips over the pink, healed skin.  “Is that better?”

           Seraphina nodded.  “Thank you, Athaliah.”

           “You are more than welcome, little one.” Athaliah turned to Lilis, who watched as Seraphina wandered away to return to practicing her magic.  “You know,” Athaliah said, drawing Lilis’s attention back to her, “you really should consider inscribing her with the Unie’ndis. It will help control the magic, make it less volatile.  She’s old enough, and using magic without it can be very dangerous.”

           Lilis shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I know… I just don’t want to make her commit to something like that at such a young age.  She’s only eight—that’s the blink of an eye in regards to her lifespan.  I don’t want to force anything upon her.  There is already enough of that going on.  And there will only be more in her future.” She wrung her hands, glancing back at the arkn child that she had taken it upon herself to raise, protect, and care for.

           “Then give her a choice,” said Athaliah.  “Let her make her own decision.  You’ve raised her well—I know that, whatever she chooses, it will be right for her.”

           Lilis nodded.  “Yes.  Yes.  I’ll talk to Seraphina about it, and if she chooses to take on the mark of the symbol, I will arrange it with Maal.” She turned away, knowing full well what Seraphina’s answer would be, and bracing herself for the arkn’s first official step into the future.

           How has the small bundle I once held in my arms turned into a magic wielder, soon to be inscribed with the Unie’ndis?  Time has moved so fast.  What am I supposed to do?

           The dekn shook her head and kept walking.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

[atomicallyabyss-deactivated2016]

New Comer

Hey guys, it's Sarah, Alex gave me the log in for his account. I'm really worried about him.

[sarahkestlerisntdead]

Has anyone been able to contact Alex??? I haven’t been able to reach him in days. I’m starting to get worried…

[sarahkestlerisntdead]

COMMAND://one_shot

One could not see that it was a dragon until they stepped away.  Only then, at a distance where all the intricate scenes and details blended into one another, could the bigger picture be observed. Alchemical symbols meshed together to become fangs in a snarling mouth of stars; a moon pocked with impact craters became a wide, staring eye; the woven branches of a summer tree twisted into the horns and spines down the dragon’s neck, merging at the edge of the ribcage with wings comprised of delicate spiders’ webs and broken arrows; jagged mountains and animals’ skulls joined to form a patchwork defense of scales; geometric patterns created thorn-like claws on the ends of crystallized limbs; intense, intricate knot work constituted the tail, which curved out of sight down onto the side of the thigh; a mandala of fire and ancient symbols formed the backdrop of the sun behind the creature, shifting and shimmering with every movement of the tattoo’s owner.

           The tattoo was at the moment hidden by layers of clothing. The owner, a lone arkn standing atop a dilapidated high-rise, crouched in the shadows.  They wore a dark shirt and pants, with a snug leather vest and a belt holding multiple knives of varying shapes and sizes, all tucked away beneath the cover of a long black coat.  A rifle was slung across their back.  Copper pipes hissed above their head, capturing the faint neon light of the city below and reflecting it in hues of orange and gold, weakened by the grime that coated the insides of the mountain.  Maph’ridome was not a beautiful city, but it was their city. Murder was not a pretty business, but it was their business.

           The comm on their right shoulder crackled to life. “Report,” a static-y voice commanded from the other end of the line.

           The arkn assassin set down the gun that they were cleaning—a separate gun from the one slung across their back—and lowered their lips to the comm, reaching up to press the button that allowed them to reply. “The target is in my sights,” they murmured, careful to watch their voice despite being the only living thing around for multiple city blocks.  “He will be within range shortly.”

           The comm went silent for a moment, as if considering what they had said.  Then the crackle of static returned and the voice on the other end spoke.  “You know what to do.  Be back at base by 0400.  If you’re not back by then—”

           They pressed the button again, cutting off the voice on the other end.  “I’ll be back by then.”  And they switched the comm off.

           They returned to the gun in front of them. With the gentle movements of a mother cradling her newborn son, the arkn screwed on the scope, loaded the clip, and made their final adjustments.  Shrugging off their coat, they shifted to lie on their stomach, resting the sniper rifle on the rooftop’s ledge and peering into the scope.  The crosshairs seemed to find the target of their own accord, zeroing in on a dark-haired arkn whose face was obscured by a wide-brimmed brown hat. He walked alongside a person wearing a beaked mask and a long hunter’s cloak; they traversed a long, arcing bridge that connected two terraces of the city.  The arkn on the rooftop laid their finger on the trigger, taking a deep breath and holding it until the only thing they felt was the heartbeat in their chest. Slowly, they began to exhale.

           Where could you possibly be going at such an hour, with a stranger such as that, Father? They mused.  Uriel turned and looked in their direction, as if sensing their presence.

           One shot to bring about the end of an empire.