#novemberdrabble

[ouatwu-blog]

Memories

"To what doth one owe thee thanks..." Azul gazes ventured from the small pooling of his brew to the dark figure hind him. His gesture was anything but appeasing to the mind nor comforting to the soul. It rattled his existence, for the abomination was anything but experienced. Urusal was young. Foolish. Even naive to believe that he could be trusted, but there was nothing more difficult than choosing to be a tool rather than an ally or an aid. Potential, that is why everyone saw within him but he was just on the verge of exploring his own prowess and control over the mystics. His fingers swirled about the water as he felt the pressure decrease. Within the cove, the sea filling to the ceiling was being drained. "Your hiding place permits little security from me, witch. And do not attempt to beckon emotions with that retched sound from your throat. My servants would fetch your tongue and rip it from your body should you even part your lips to do as you'd call, sing" His presence was so demanding and only he could look down at the boiling substance. Urusal's scaly skin fading so that they would not dry out. His soft tones and texture warming with the absence of the cool water chilling his body. Though the other assumed he was far from comfortable, it wasn't uncommon for the sea dweller to scout and scavenge the land. He, however, did hide from sight. Blue eyes ventured toward the ceiling as he took a deep breathe of air in and his back arched, stretching heavily in the hips and arms rose above his head, reaching for the ceiling. "Oh, are we so greatly afraid of my voice, Hellion?" Urusal smirked. "We've made our pact and we've made our deals. You rush what is time sensitive. Do not forget, I have as much at stake as you do." Urusal's grin was toxic, frightening even. So much darkness concentrated in his smaller form that innocence was far from present. It had died the night his life was presumed dead at the bottom of the ocean. Eras Blackshire was dead. His body and soul left at the bottom of the sea where it belonged. It died with his father, with the dignity and respect his people took from him. Yes, gone. His fingers curled into tightened fists as the veins in his hands illuminated with violet energies of his surging power. He was getting stronger with every lesson learned and every tonic created, every incantation recited and every descent into the abyss of his eternal darkness. The other wasn't afraid, yet. "You have a dut--" "Do not remind me constantly, Hades. The fucking deal still stands...." Urusal's voice boomed, ricocheting off of the cavernous walls. The water at their feet began to roll, violently as his eyes were haloed  in a vibrant violet that almost cloaked the entire orbital of his eyes. He cleared his throat and calmed himself. He closed his eyes as his chest heaved, core flexed. He paced a moment, standing behind his boil. The mystical energies illuminated his face eerily. The tails of eels floating to the top while the claws of a lobster was submerged. "There is a debt on the trident. Part of the trident's power is mine and Triton remains safe while the other fraction remains your's as well as his wealth." Hades flenched at the thought of even making such a deal with the Sea Witch but deemed it necessary in order to get what he wanted. However, he planned on foiling the agreement once Urusal was close enough to taking the trident. Triton and all were to be destroyed. It was far too much of a liability to keep either with the possibility of Urusal wielding a small percentage of the weapon's power. However, Urusal had other plans as well. Neither could be trusted and could not trust the other. "Remember witch, you have a side of the bargain to uphold and do not call my name again. I saved you from yourself but I will set it free if you do not remember all of the deal. You will become a slave to my will and all of my desire if you ever cross me." "The threat is mutual but mine isn't a threat. Besides, if you want me, create a line. You aren't the first and you aren't the last to attempt to weaponize me."  His gaze sharply rose from the cauldron up to the man, narrowing sharply. Urusal made sure his point was clear. With the blink of an eye, Hades vanished with the scent of brimstone and sulfur. Glancing about his cavern, a small grin was pierced with the apparent gleam of his pearly white teeth. The receding water gave a shoreline. "I'll be damned. He created something amazing. About as useful as he will ever be."

[ouatwu-blog]

Nightmares

Rose and Zazu's bodies laid lifeless next to him, the firehead had his hand around Rune's neck, dangling him above the would be Prince. And his monsterous foot was pinning Urusal to the ground, "Let them go!!" Eden shouted towards Hades. The gods hand merely squeezed the life from Rune, slowly taking the air from the Atlantean. The blonde males lips turning blue as he was tossed over towards Rose and Zazu's lifeless body pile. Just as lifeless as them, "No!! Rune!!" His eyes flashed. The Dark Prince rising from his slumber - black filling them when Rune was killed. Hades let out a gut curling laugh, his foot stomping the sea wizard under his foot. Urusal gave a growl, his chest caving in abit, "Please..don't hurt him.." Ed whispered out in a horsed voice; hostile and angry. Evil essense crowded the daze like area. 'You appear to feel for these creatures..how amusing. Did you not listen to my former mate?! I can smell Kit on you, Eden; Son of Zazu. I know he told you of what I did to him..' The fire headed god smirked abit, his foot closing down on Urusal's throat now. The sea dweller flailed his many arms, wildly. But to no avail, 'You should have listened. He told you I would haunt you until you made a choice.. You must choose..dark or light. Rune and Urusal or Rose and Kit.. The choice is yours, and yours alone. Remember that when these three are pleasing you tonight..' With a start, Eden woke up. That dream had been so real, he could still smell that burning fire. He could still see Rune's lifeless blue eyes. It made his eyes wide and he flicker on the light of his room, next to him in the bed was Rune and Rose. Both sleeping. Both very much alive still. Sweat thick over his brow, breathing hard. Kit had been right. The time was coming to were he would have to choose between the darkness of Rune and Urusal or the light of Kit and Rose. In the end..What path will the bird prince choose? Tune in next time!

[ouatwu-blog]

Revelations

Wearing a loose pair of silken trousers and a top that covered only what societal modesty required, she covered herself in a dark red cloak. The color in a language that was now forgotten was sangoire, a deep red that bordered on black. Just before dawn she’d found her way to the livery, borrowing a horse for the day. She rode out at a flat gallop, eyes closed, luxuriating in the feel of the wind blowing over her face. It was a rare moment of freedom, a day without clients or other tedious mind numbing appointments. Letting go of the reins, she let her mount have his head and just run. Opening her eyes, she watched the dark scenery pass her by, letting the stallion that she’d been told was named Darkness choose their destination. Finally the beast slowed, stopping beneath a tree that had long been dead, gnarled branches reaching toward the heavens. “Yes, this will do. Well done brother.” She crooned, dismounting, running a hand along the equine’s long neck.

Tossing the cloak across the saddle, she loosely looped the reins around a low hanging branch. Moving slowly and with great deliberation, Vivienne moved through the first steps of the kata that her grandfather had taught her so very long ago. “This is called the Dragon’s Dance, and it is only fitting that I should pass it down to you.” His deep voice was ingrained into her memory. She remembered sitting at his feet, watching him in avid awe as he moved through each motion with a fluid grace that she envied. Taking those lessons and making them a part of herself, she was able to discipline her mind as well as her body. All the sparring, weaponry, and hand to hand combat training had molded her into a living weapon. A weapon that you father would have given anything to control. The thought came to her mind unbidden, because she hadn’t thought of him in years. Not since that last cataclysmic fight that had resulted in her severing his head from his shoulders. She would not be controlled. Not by her past, her father, or any being alive. She was fire, a hurricane, a force of nature that could not be bowed and cowed.

Her movements became faster, almost as if the muscle memory were trying to force out the actual memories that plagued her in her darkest nightmares. “Sweating can purge the dark just as well as bloodletting. Never forget your lessons. You’ll need them Vi. A storm is coming.” Legion’s words echoed in the deepest recesses of her mind. He’d known. He had known all along that she would end up here. This is what she had be working for her whole life. This was her purpose. This was her home now. Pausing, she tilted her head back, body shimmering with a deep red aura. A smile crossed her lips and she let the transformation take her. Thin, svelte body became hard muscle and sinew, willowy arms and legs rippled with muscle. From her shoulders great leathery wings unfurled. Launching herself skyward, she pumped her wings once, twice, three times and broke through the cloud-bank overhead. A jubilant roar of triumph boomed from her. She had finally found where she belonged, and it was glorious.

It was well after nightfall when she returned to Slake. Normally after a day like this, she would be exhausted, weary down into her bones. But she wasn’t. It was almost as if she had a boundless supply of energy. As she made her way back into her rooms, she sensed that she was not alone. Opening the expanse of her vast mind, she probed the area. “You might as well come out. I know you’re there. And if I couldn’t sense you sugar, I can damn well smell you.” She voice was barely an octave above a sibilant whisper, hissing in the dark. The drapes that covered the door leading the balcony opened and out stepped….

[ouatwu-blog]

Vampyre

“Theodora, calm yourself, its just-“

“But Eva! They’re gunna hurt her!” With a drawn out sigh, the eldest of King Orynn’s four witch daughters breathed out a chuckle, arm positioned around the torso of the youngest princess, holding her from her heroic mission. “Evanora… Help the piggy…”

“Theodora, that is a boy… and, um, well, he is dinner. This is natural, would you keep the lion from killing the lamb?”

The two witchlings were still very young, Evanora herself barely breaching the point of adolescence, Theodora, a child, oh so naïve in her sisters eyes, however, even more so was she precious.

Theo squirmed in Evanora’s arms, a pout settling upon her lips, large, doe-like brown eyes peered upwards, “Save him… I don’t wanna eat a piggy. I wanna make him my friend. Like the lion made friends with the lamb.”

“Oh, Theo…” Another voice, Glinda, the blonde appearing from behind the gates, “Come now, we mustn’t be here. If father realizes we’ve been out in sight of-“

“But the pig…” Theodora whined again, averting her gaze as a horrible cry came from the kitchen, silencing the animal forever.

“Oh for the love of Oz… Theodora, look at me.” Evanora chided, crouching before her, “I promise you, this is natural. This is life, the pig eats the grass, we eat the pig, and when we die, we are buried, to become the grass, that the pigs, and goats, and cows eat. Okay?”

The three were just outside of Jade Castle, Evanora and Glinda had been released from their studies, all to spend a well deserved night with their baby sister, Theodora.

The little princess that had been locked away like something out of a fairy tale, for her own protection. She was far too curious, naïve, innocent. She made an easy target, and with troubles along the western border, the King wasn’t necessarily wrong for keeping a watchful eye over her. Though, there were times, times when a sort of rebel instinct kicked in- seemingly, when she was with Evanora.

Oh, how that sweet little girl looked up to Evanora, she saw something absolutely enchanting within Evanora, something exciting-exhilarating. She wasn’t evil, she did study the dark arts, yes, but Theo never considered her to be ‘evil.’ She was good, but she didn’t have to be pure to do good.

For some reason, having a bit of a dark side was something that Theodora envied.

Inside, Evanora took it upon herself to steal some sweets and pastries from the kitchen, while Glinda comforted Theodora that the pig felt no pain, though with some difficulty, considering the little screech it emitted at the point of death.

“Even if he did, I can tell you, he isn’t feeling anything now. Or ever again.” Evanora chuckled lightly, plopping herself down across from Theo, unraveling a towel full of pastries.

“Evanora!” Glinda shot her sister a look of disapproval, her normally calm features furrowed in distaste, “She’s never seen such a thing, do not joke about its fate.”

“Oh, relax, look at her… She’s forgotten already…” With an elegant roll of her eyes, Evanora nodded towards Theodora, where she had eased the pastries towards herself, and begun to feast on the bounty. “Save me some, little lamb, or I’ll have to eat you, instead.”

“Evanora… Are you trying to upset her?” Glinda pressed her inner palm against her forehead, appearing to almost feel the need to mumble a few obscenities towards her opposite.

“I told you to relax! She’s fine.”

The two continued their light bickering, as Theodora naturally zoned herself out, into her own little world, she just couldn’t help but wonder… “So who eats the people?”

“W-what?” Glinda blinked, seemingly a bit taken back by the mere innocence of such an inquiry, her soft blue eyes flickering towards Evanora’s, filled with what could have been worry.

Evanora cracked a mischievous grin, leaning forward across the blanket to brush a strand of the young one’s hair behind her ear, away from her face. “I suppose we could tell a few stories tonight, of the Vampyre…”

A sharp gasp, one of horror, the swan turned on the raven, blues bubbling with disbelief- fear. “We are forbid-“

Evanora silenced her with a sharp whip of the wrist, and another masterful roll of the eyes, emerald hues resting upon little Theodora, “It is just a story, don’t you want to hear it, little lamb?”

Curiosity burning in her gaze, pastries abandoned, the girl nodded, fixating her dark eyes onto the eldest of the three, listening as the tale began.

“Blood mine, blood thine, blood ours…”

~*~

Present Day

Theodora woke with a start, an odd, crawling sensation drabbling along the inside of her throat, couching softly, she realized the source; crimson speckled her hand, blood fell from her nose, the warm syrup having had trickled back into her throat, causing her stomach to clench, unsettled.

She stood quickly, to wipe the mess away, to thwart the dull throbbing headache that began to form just beyond her eyelids ad temples, only to realize that she wasn’t home at all.

She was much, much closer to home than she realized.

Her fathers study, locked away behind closed doors, making up a wall within walls inside of his private chambers. Theodora often found herself, here, since his death, since she watched the strongest man she knew, the first man she loved, crumble beneath her fingertips.

How?

That had been the question, how could he have fallen ill? Of all the people in Oz, their King? Her Father? The man that people literally referred to as “father time,” gone? Because of asickness.

No, it had to be different. It just had to be… None of the healers knew of what ailed him, she herself had made sure that this news never left the castle. Oz wasn’t ready to know this- the death of their King meant weakness, both in the mourning of his children, and militarily for his Kingdom.

Especially with the oncoming war, presented to them at the-

Doom…

“Malice…” The name left her lips like that of a curse, her jaw tightening as the pieces of  fake puzzle began to play inside of her torn apart mind, “father didn’t like you… he didn’t like Kovu…”

Now she was just being ridiculous, thinking such a thing, that Malice could have staged an assassination…

Not at a meeting so full of, well, mega-magics themselves.

Revenge was the sweetest poison, the reasoning she had for so quickly wanting to point a finger towards the unknown, to blame an outsider. How did you avenge someone who was killed by means of a disease? There was no proof to track a killer, no reasoning to suspect anyone from the small, well, alliance they had… somewhat?

No, it was all a joke. This must have been punishment, for opening the borders, for letting the sins of the outside world seep into Oz, and now it had murdered their heart. Soon, the cells would begin to die, and the Emerald City would be in disarray. They needed to heal, they didn’t need a war…

Theodora had watched her father fight a losing battle for his life, she had seen the hungry fight a losing battle of starvation in Netherworld, and she, as a little naïve witchling, had seen that pig lose a battle against a knife.

All of it was plain to see, easy to see, it was all inevitable death. Why add to it? Why must she feel so inclined to help these people?

“What do you owe them…?” Sighing, the brunette dropped her forehead down to rest in her hand, elbow against the wooden desk. When her eyes finally flickered open, she realized what she had been reading before succumbing to sleep- Vampyre.

But Kit Suede was just a myth, he wasn’t real.

Then again, most of the world didn’t even know whether or not she truly existed, up until her little trek into Netherworld.

Momentarily, her attention flickered up towards her fathers bed, neatly remade since he had last lain in it, where he had passed. Where she had…. Helped him pass.

She felt the sting of tears falling down her cheeks, just then, crashing into the books cover.

“Blood mine…. Blood thine…. Blood ours.”