Back with the living

The truth was that Ana didn’t really know how long she had spent in the coma.  She knew she had been in one because she had been told so, but nobody had told her the exact period of time; that is, no one that was still around to tell her.  She had asked but nobody wanted to tell her either because they had all but given her up for dead so long ago that time had just got lost along the way, or maybe it was that they didn’t want to tell her and cause her more immediate emotional distress.  The question was dodged or answered with a question or diversion every time and it hadn’t taken long for Ana to give up asking entirely.  They’d tell her when they thought she was ready to know, she supposed, and the truth was, she didn’t care much just then, she was still too tired and all of the little energy she did have was spent on a daily basis trying to get her bearings again.  Either way, she had two eyes of her own and she could see that it had been a long time.

She looked visibly older.  She couldn’t judge how much exactly and wouldn’t want to guess; it could have been years or decades even.  There were definitely a few fine lines on her face that hadn’t been there the last time she faced herself in a mirror and at least a handful of grey hairs peppered through her hair.  Her face, once full and healthy was now gaunt and drawn, the dark circles under her eyes showing just how worn down she had become and perhaps how close to death also.  But she was here, alive, if not feeling incredibly lost and out of touch with everything, including herself.

What troubled Anaveya Blackcrest the most was the distinct lack of recollection of what had occurred before she had fallen into the long deep sleep.  What also troubled her was that she did recall who was missing now she was awake again.  Her sister was conspicuously absent and Kaeth, too.  Where was her family, she wondered as she absentmindedly ran her hand across her belly which bore a curious cross shaped scar that had also not been there before.  Where had her life gone?  Where was …

“Ssh, Mommy, don’t think about it now.  I’m still here.”

Ana startled at the sound of the little girls voice, a little hoarse and quiet as it had always been, and she felt an odd mixture of both comfort and uneasiness as she looked down at the eyeless girl in the faded blue dress as she pressed her pallid face against the woman’s side and wrapped her arms around her middle.  Reluctantly almost, she reached down and stroked the child’s hair once or twice and Eyla tilted her head up to her and smiled, an insidious sort of smile, the one that Ana instantly remembered that almost always came before the child had a brilliant yet terrible idea that she was about to put into action, or draw her mother into.

“I know where Daddy went.  He’s in trouble, Mommy, and we’re going to find him.”

 

Camping at the Manor with Capa (Part 1)

(AN:  A fun little gem of an RP session that I found in some old word files buried in my computer.  There is very little documented of the character Lylah, which I regret.  She has always been the persona I have slipped into the easiest, believe it or not.  The character of Capathios and all dialogue and so on from him I cannot take credit for.  This entire scene was a collaboration).

 

“Once upon a time there was a man elf an’ a lady elf that loved each other very very much. Mister Master Singsorrow was a young silly man like me I’m told, but bad things happened to ‘im an’ he was never the same again. He met Misses Lady Singsorrow an’ he was happy an’ stuff. An’ then he went an’ disappeared. Misses Lady Singsorrow almost died from bein’ so sad an’ her sister Lady Blackcrest decided t’ cheer her up by rebuildin’ the old old old family Estate in Terokkar. O’ course, it’s not even started an’ it’s old an’ a bit dirty an’ stuff but I been usin’ that place for myself whenever I want t’ hide from everyone. Ya know what though? I’ll tell ya a secret, Mister. I get lonely, all kinds o’ lonely. An’ bored. Ya wanna come see it with me? It might be fun!”

Capathios kept his eyes trained on the rogue as she spoke, placing a few pieces into place as she told him the story. He couldn’t help but furrow his brow as he thought. There was a short silence between them when she had finished her story. “I think I know what house you’re talking about. I’ve seen it a number of times throughout my adventures here. It can’t hurt to go see inside, so sure.”

Lylah raises a finger to her lips, and winks at the man.

“Ya can’t be tellin’ nobody ’bout this though, not ever. Not never ever, ’cause Misses Lady .. Blackcrest now, she never did like me much anyways but she’s got a lot o’ money an’ I don’t want th’ sack, ya know?”

She raises an eyebrow at him and then whistles sharply for her wandering windrider to come back. It had a habit of doing that. Probably not enough time and attention paid to it, that was for sure.

“After youu then, Mister. Since ya know where yer goin’.”

His face relaxed, though didn’t seem to make much of a difference due to the road map of markings on his face. He nodded a single time and looks to the skies. He lets out a sharp whistle of his own, slightly off pitch of her own. A Grand Windrider descends from the clouds almost instantly and saunters up next to him. He would quickly climb into the saddle.

“Off we go, then.” He speaks before giving two dull snippets of a whisper. The wind rider gives a soft growl and takes to the skies in the direction of Capathios’ unspoken command.

She watches him carefully as he made moves to leave just ahead of her, and followed behind him until they would reach the Manor, it’s familiar shape seeming to loom out of the dense forest where it sat. She couldn’t ever imagine anybody living in this place any time soon, but she liked it anyway. Maybe it could be as grand as the old Singsorrow Estate when it was finished. Mister G woulda liked it here, she thought, out of the blue and quickly shook her head to discard the thought before it made her sad. Climbing off the windrider after she’d brought it down on the second floor balcony, she looked back at the man and flashed him a grin.

“Ya knew ’bout this place but ya never went inside it?” she asked, “it’s grand, Mister. Grand. Come on, follow me!” She turns and skips towards the double doors that would lead inside into a large, dusty, but huge old living room.

Capathios leapt off of his windrider as it drew close to the same balcony. He landed with much more silence than one would expect, only a light thump. He looked to the woman and nodded before looking around and into the closed glass door of the manor. He placed his hand against the glass and swept it to the side, taking up a layer or two or fifteen of gathered dust. He looked back to her and smirked lightly.

“I never really thought to. It never crossed my mind. Not only that I never spent much time here as it is. I only had passed through a few times on my way to Shadowmoon Valley.”

Lylah glances back over her shoulder at him, nodding and giggling.

“Mhm! It’s awful niiiiiiice, “she says in an odd and somewhat shrill sing-song tone, and she keeps talking as she alternates between walking and skipping just ahead of him. She points out rooms as she goes, assuming he is following her, either way she doesn’t really stop to check.

“That’s th’ kitchen, that in there’s going t’ be the library, that down there’s th’ guest quarters, an’ up here.. “she skips all the way up the stairs, “up here’s Miss Blackcrest’s floor. All t’ herself. Bit big jus’ all for one person, hmm?”

She doesn’t wait for him to respond, really, continuing to skip down the hall and she turns left into a large room that would obviously be recently used. There are ashes in the fireplace at one end, a pile of blankets and pillows nearby beside a huge picture window that runs the entire length of the wall facing outside. Although a few of the panes are visibly marred with large cracks and a few holes. She stops in front of the window, bouncing on her toes, and then just stands there, hands on hips, looking down at the dense forest below. She grins back at him over her shoulder. “Pretty, ain’t it?”

The Visitor (Part 3)

It was almost dawn when the first pain struck, forcing her eyes open and a cry of agony from her lips. Clearly there would be no easing into it, no niggles, no gentle build up, only the sensation that the child in her belly had awoken (or been awoken) and wanted out, as quickly and as forcefully as possible. She shouldn’t have expected it to be any less than this. With every wave of pain that overtook her body over the next unknown period of time, it could have been minutes, it could have been hours; she was no longer entirely aware of reality other than the immediate one, it was as if she was being punished by some unseen Gods or otherwise. And after all, did she really, truly deserve anything less, or more merciful?

“Look at me, little Ana.”

Rainé held her hand firmly and Eyla stroked her belly, her eyeless face cocked at an odd angle staring up at Ana, but the voice belonged to neither one of them. She groaned and squeezed her eyes closed, thrashing her head from side to side. No, not now, Gods please, not now. She wouldn’t look, she wouldn’t listen. She couldn’t. There was work to do. If she did nothing else with this life, she would at least see this through, and deliver her child into the world before she left it with as much strength as she could muster. There was no time left for reminiscing, regrets, sorrow or otherwise. For weeks, months even, she had been completely devoid of energy, even of awareness of her surroundings, of nothing but tiredness. A weariness so deep that she simply felt empty.

“Liar, liar, LIAR!”

Had she imagined the girl screaming? Here she was, now, quite calm, oddly so, in fact, despite the current situation. Had it been real, Eyla should be … there was nothing. No anger, no fear, jealousy, there was simply no energy at all around her and this confused Ana. But no, she couldn’t think about that now. Oh Gods, there was that pain again, and so soon following the first? She thrashed her head around on her pillow, biting her bottom lip so hard that her teeth pierced the dry parched flesh there and she tasted a bitter, warm rush of blood in her mouth.

Minutes passed, and then hours. All she was aware of was the pain, ripping through her body as if it was some kind of independent entity and it would tear her apart, rather than some thing that was happening to her, something she was feeling. There was no control left, barely even consciousness. In fact, so long passed that it wasn’t until the room was dark and she became aware of candle light in her immediate surroundings and not natural sunlight through that window nearby that Ana wondered how much of what was happening was real, if any of it.

Am I dead already?

“Stay with us, Ana. That baby needs to come out. Don’t you give up now, not now, not yet…”

Raine’s voice. No, she wasn’t dead yet, but she shook her head weakly at the words, at her sister’s insistent encouragement, and whimpered. She couldn’t do it. She allowed her eyes to open only long enough to silently plead with her, and if Raine saw the desperation in the other woman’s eyes, she didn’t show it, but only reached to squeeze her hand firmly, nodding stiffly.

“You will do this, Ana. Or so help me, I will follow you to whatever Hell follows this and make your eternity a nightmare, myself!”

A giggle issued forth from Eyla then, the only single other sound that Ana had heard in hours, and she felt the girl lay her cheek on her belly, and all she felt was cold. A cold that was at first skin deep but seeped into her slowly and then spread slowly at first, and then became all encompassing, a small patch of cold turned into something that filled her entire core with an unnatural feeling of almost lifelessness and it was at that moment as the child wrapped her arms around Ana’s belly and the last pain struck that she began to scream.

“Ow!  Hurts, huuuuurts, stop!”  She started to thrash around, kicking her arms and legs, trying to get away from the hands, the fingers digging into her skin, sinking into her body. “Please, no, please…”

And the last thing Ana saw when she looked down was the manifestation fading, disappearing, and with each second the pain grew. One long, seemingly endless test of her strength as Eyla faded away before her eyes, and it was then that she did lose consciousness, truly.

“Look at me, little Ana. It’s time to remember. We’re almost there. Wake up.”

You lied.

Suddenly the child was simply just there. Ana’s awareness of the girl’s presence woke her suddenly, her eyes flicking open, startling her momentarily and she blinked several times to clear her fuzzy vision. She reached for the girl’s hand with the arm that lay above the covers, but Eyla’s small hand was already on Ana’s belly, just resting there, and the girl had her eyeless face cocked at an odd angle just staring, or seeming to, at the woman’s middle.

“What is it, Eyla?” She asked the girl, and the voice that she heard she almost did not recognize as her own. It was hoarse and weak, almost a whisper.

“Can’t you hear it?”

Ana frowned and shook her head slowly. She’d been vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps earlier while she’d been dozing before the girl woke her up. Rainé left at the same time every morning to go downstairs and arrange to have something made for her sister to eat, even though it had been days, if not weeks since she’d managed to more than peck at anything solid. But the room was silent now.

“Hear what?”

The girl raised a finger to her lips.

“Ssssh, just listen.”

She began to stroke Ana’s belly then, running her small hand up and over the bump and back again, slowly. She repeated the movement just a few times before she felt the baby inside her stir, and she winced when it kicked up against her ribs. Eyla giggled, and at that sound, Ana shuddered involuntarily. There had never been anything pleasant about the child’s laughter. It was a sound that she had heard many times before, and one which she had never been able to get used to. It took her back to the first night that she’d been made aware of Eyla’s very existence, and as much as she had tried to forget that, she could not, and would not. There were things, after all, that once seen could not be unseen, seared into one’s memory until the end of their days. A simple giggle was enough to bring that all back, and swiftly.

She squeezed her eyes closed and made a small whimpering sound as the baby kicked again. Eyla’s hand stopped moving and she bent her head down to press her ear against her mother’s belly.

Ana opened her mouth to ask what she was doing, but the words simply would not come out this time and she sighed wearily instead. She reached down and rested her hand on the top of the girl’s head, stroking at her hair, and the two of them stayed that way for a while before Eyla sat up again and slid off the bed in one quick movement to stand nearer the woman’s shoulder, peering down at her from her scarred eyeless sockets.

“Mommy?”

Ana’s eyes flickered open again.

“Hmm? What is it, Eyla?”

“You lied.”

The girl’s voice sent a violent shiver through her. The anger and resentment in her tone was unmasked, truly, and there was something else in it that Ana had heard before, but which had never been directed at her, and perhaps this frightened her the most. It was malice.

“I would never lie to you.”

“But you did.”

Ana frowned and looked at the girl, shaking her head slowly, confused.

“You said I would always be your favourite girl.”

A weak smile curled Ana’s lips.

“And you are, and always will …” Her sentence was cut off before it could finish by the girl suddenly shouting.

“Liar!”

And all at once the light that had begun to fill the room, the first light of dawn that came through the bedroom windows each morning was gone, replaced by pure darkness. A darkness that she’d seen once before, long ago, and the very air that she tried to breathe now was thick, oppressive, constricting her lungs as the girl’s screams got louder.

“Liar, liar, LIAR!”

And with the last scream from the child’s mouth, she jabbed her finger at Ana’s belly.

“She’s your favourite, she is! You LIED!”

As her head started to swim, and her ears felt as if they might actually explode from the inhuman roaring coming from the girl’s mouth and the other voices that echoed hers that filled the room now, the child flung herself down at the side of the bed, sobbing, Ana started to scream as the first pain struck.

And then once more there was silence.

The light fades

The constant sedation has reached a dangerous point now. It is necessary to ease her pain, but at the same time, the awareness is there that the next dose she is administered could well be her last. The body was not meant to tolerate such heavy medicating for the long term, and already it has been several weeks, the frequency and the dose itself growing exponentially in that time. Two days ago, she stopped breathing shortly after I medicated her in the early morning. It was Eyla’s screaming, that Gods awful inhuman sound that I shall never forget, alerting me to it.

I’d only stepped out of the room for but a minute or two to fetch some parchment and ink so that I might write a letter while she rested. I won’t make that mistake again. It’s not the unborn child that I am concerned with. If it dies, then that is of no consequence, but quite simply, Ana might almost be ready to leave us, but I am not ready to let her go.

I’m not sure what the girl did to revive her ‘mother’ but I almost dare not question it. Really, does it matter the means, if an end was reached? Ana is alive, for now.

Still, I cannot close my eyes without seeing the expression on that wretched creature’s face as she, as it wept tears from the sockets where her eyes had once been. Tears of blood.

She begged and pleaded and as she wailed, my head hurt, for it was not just her sounds of panic and upset that filled my ears, but the voices and sounds of many. Who and what, and how many, I’ll never know, and to be perfectly honest, I don’t want to. Only Lord Stormblood can answer that, perhaps, but he hides himself away from me, from his wife, his ‘daughter’, and who knows where. They say that everyone grieves in his or her own way, and I won’t question it, or force my hand there. It is not my place. I do hope, for my sisters sake, though, that he does come back before it is too late. For his, too. There is nothing worse in this life than leaving things unsaid. And Gods know, if I have unfinished business with her, then he must, too.

Why am I writing this? And who am I writing this to? Nobody, to be perfectly honest. For there is not a soul in this world that I can talk to about it. She is the only person I could ever talk to about anything, and already there were far too few words spoken, too many things that we did not talk about, that we will not be able to …

I swear, with everything I am and everything I have left, that if that unborn child lives, I will smother it before it draws a breath amidst the destruction it is about to leave in it’s wake. I am not one to dwell on what is fair, and what is not, because that is life. Life is not fair, but it seeks to take one who was too good for it to start with, and with her, the light that surrounds her, the light that she is fades. She will leave behind a darkness that nothing will ever be able to touch again. And there is nothing just or fair about that.

The light fades, slowly but surely.

The Visitor (Part 2)

“The whole world is haunted now, and there’s no getting out of that. Not until we’re dead.”

— The Walking Dead

“Come on, Ana.  We’re going to go for a little run, okay?”

A shake of the head, an overly exagerrated frown and the pushing out of the little girl’s bottom lip would indicate that nope, little Ana did not think it was okay.

The older boy smiled, a quick forced smile and softened his tone a little, but the words were still hurried and held some urgency.  She didn’t want to go.  He was scaring her.

“No.”

“It’ll be fun.  And hey… ” the boy reached out to catch her wrist with his hand, and she tried to pull away, but his grip tightened quickly, “I’ll run really, really fast.  Super fast.  It’ll feel like you’re flying!”

“Ow!”  She tried to pull her arm away, but to no avail.  The boy was already moving, and she had no choice but to follow.  She couldn’t pull free.  He was starting to run already and he pulled at her arm again, as if to hurry her, but he was already going to fast!  

“Ow!  Hurts, huuuuurts, stop!”  She started to struggle against his hold, even trying to dig her heels into the ground, but he was twice her size and strength and no amount of fighting with him was going to work.

He stopped abruptly then, dropped to his knees so that he was at her level and grabbed her by both arms, his fingers digging into her upper arms.  Why was he hurting her?  He’d never hurt her before this way, never.

“Look at me, little Ana.”

She refused to open her eyes.  She wouldn’t look.  She didn’t want to see him … it, again.  That voice.  She’d heard it before, that unnatural, spine chilling tone that while not particularly loud was menacing and disturbing and she felt herself go cold and start to shiver.  The entire room seemed to be ice cold now and the exposed flesh of her arms and neck were covered in goosebumps.  An involuntary shiver ran up her spine but still she lay there, eyes squeezed tightly closed.  She wouldn’t look.  She wouldn’t…

“Look at me, Ana!”

“No, I won’t!  You’re not here, you’re not real.  This isn’t happening.  This isn’t happening again…”

The cold hand underneath her chin and the feeling of it’s cold fingers on her face made her skin crawl, but it forced her to open her eyes and he was just as the first time she had seen him like this, long ago.  The night that the deal had been struck.  But she hadn’t been in her right mind then, and she couldn’t be now, either.  If she believed that, then she would know she’d almost certainly lost her mind for real, but she opened her mouth and spoke to it, to him, and her mouth and throat were so dry they barely came out as more than a whisper.

“You’re … you’re dead. You’re not here. You’re dead and buried.  I saw it with my own eyes.  You are NOT MY BROTHER.”

It cocked it’s head to one side and grinned at her, as it had done that dark night long ago and she had to force back the urge to vomit, her head starting to spin.

“Ah but you only saw what you wanted to see, didn’t you?”

Staring dumbly at the manifestation now, all Ana could do was blink.  Her mouth dry, heart pounding, hands trembling, she shook her head, confused.

“I saw you die.  I saw … I saw your body on the deck of that ship, and I ran.”

It smiled then, cocking it’s head to the other side, at an unnatural angle, it’s head almost touching it’s shoulder, and the smile spread into a wide, grotesque grin and it started to laugh.  Finally it spoke again.

“Did you?  Are you certain of that?  Did you really run, Ana?

Squeezing her eyes closed as her head began to pound, she allowed her head to fall back on the pillow as she ran the memory over in her head, again.  Gods knew she’d been over it dozens if not hundreds of times before, and nothing in her recollection ever changed.  The man’s shortsword pressed to Valgoren’s throat.  The words uttered, “An eye for an eye” and then the thud of her brother’s body hitting the deck.  And then … nothing.

“I … I ran, “she whispered, and the visage shook it’s head slowly, smiling that horrible smile again.

“The mind is capable of both wonderful and terrible things, Anaveya.  You won’t rest until you remember.  You will linger here until that time.  For what is done cannot be undone, what is seen cannot be unseen.  You can choose to forget, but you can also choose to remember.  And you must.”

“Why?”

“Because this … ” and before her eyes the grim manifestation of Valgoren Blackcrest disappeared and in it’s place stood the graceful and flawless figure of another man lost long ago, and he spread his arms as he spoke, “all of this chaos must come to an end.”

.

Time is short

 

The sound of the bowl being set down beside the bed was what woke her up, and her eyes blinked slowly a few times before she was fully awake, glancing up to see Rainé looking down at her, the faintest of smiles curling the corner of the woman’s mouth.

Ana’s nose wrinkled at the familiar smell of the meal which had been set down for her and she turned onto her side slowly, intending to push herself up into a sitting position so that she could at least try and eat.

“It smells good.  Did you … did you cook this, yourself?”  An eyebrow raised at the older woman, the question quickly followed by abrupt laughter.

“Me, cook?  Please, Ana.  I’m trying to make you feel better, not worse…”her voice trailed off quickly, and then she stood up, straightened her shoulders and sniffed before finishing, “No, I had the help make it.  This Talbuk stew should be almost as good as if you made it yourself.  Gods know that woman is paid enough, it better be good.”  She nodded towards the bowl and then stepped closer to the bed, offering Ana her arm for support so that she could sit up easier.

Ana winced when she shifted, being rewarded with a sharp kick in the ribs.  Rubbing her swollen belly she closed her eyes as her head started to swim.  The effort of even moving so strenuous and uncomfortable, she felt faint for several moments.

“Nobody ever told me that being pregnant was quite like this, “she murmured when she finally did open her eyes, met with a stern but concerned look from Rainé.

“That’s because it’s not supposed to be like this, “the older woman narrowed her eyes, sniffing before folding her arms across her chest, casting her eyes over Ana’s exposed belly.  Pulling the sheet up over herself to try and avoid any further looks of disdain, Ana simply closed her eyes and listened as her sister vented.

“It’s not natural, what’s happening to you.  Nothing about it is normal, or natural.  Far from it!”

“Where is Kaeth?”  Ana asked quietly, a swift subject change, as if she had heard none of her sisters’ words, reaching for the bowl beside her.  Raine reached it before she did, scooping it up with her own hand.

“Careful, it’s very hot, “she warned, and helped Ana prop a pillow in front of her to rest the bowl on.  She blew on a spoonful before moving it to feed Ana with it.

“Rainé, please, I can still feed myself, “Ana snapped, almost immediately regretting her tone as the woman stepped back, sniffing once more before folding her arms defensively across her chest, a posture she took fairly often, though Ana was not usually the cause.  It seemed as if most people and things offended or angered Rainé Blackcrest in some way.  Ana often wondered if she had always been that way, or if something had happened to her at some point in time shaping the woman she was now.

It occurred to her then, that she would likely never know, and all at once she lost her appetite again.  She let the spoon slip from her fingers and it clattered to the floor, and she turned to place the bowl back on the nightstand.

“I’ll get you another one, “Rainé was already turning to leave the room, but Ana stopped her.

“No, I can’t eat anymore.”

“You must eat more, you’ve barely had three bites.  At least if you are stuck carrying that monstrous child you could at least try and see it through to term.  I won’t stand by and see you harm yourself this way.  It’s bad enough that it’s already killing you!”

The words had been voiced, finally.  They never spoke of the baby, the two of them.  Ana had tried many times, but Rainé wouldn’t hear anything of it.  She was too caught up in what Ana perceived as overwhelming concern that she seemed to hate the unborn child.  She’d never said it outright, but had hinted at it in small ways, veiled comments, body language, looks given, but now it was out in the open.

A heavy silence lay between the women for several minutes before Rainé finally broke it, her voice softer now, the tone heavy with worry rather than anger.

“It’s not right.  Something about it isn’t right.”

“It’s a baby, Rainé, “Ana murmured, “not a monster, not a thing.  A baby.”

“It’s killing you.  You’ll be lucky to give birth to the thing at the rate with which you are draining before all of our eyes!”

“She can’t help it…she’s just an innocent unborn child, Rainé.  How can you be so hateful?”

The older woman snorted at these last words.

“I’m hateful for good reason!  There is bad magic at play here, something dark, something … what do you mean, she?”

“I just know it’s a little girl.  I’ve dreamed it.  I’ve seen her.  She’s .. she’s beautiful.”

“And you’re delusional, unwell, exhausted.  These are just fantasies, dreams conjured up in your mind of something you wish to be.  It isn’t possible, what you speak of.  You can’t know!”

Ana leaned back into her pillows, resting her head and closing her eyes for a moment.  When she opened them again, she turned her head to look at her sister and simply stated.

“You and I both know that isn’t true.”

Turning away abruptly, Rainé was about to leave again, and Ana reached out to catch the woman’s wrist before she did.

“I want you to promise me something.”

“Don’t do this, Ana…”

“Rainé, please, promise me.  Stay.  Help Kaeth take care of her.  Be there when I can’t.”

“I will not hear your last wishes right now, Anaveya.  Not yet.  Not yet…”

The last words faltered as the hardened expression on the older woman’s face finally softened and her voice wavered.  She sounded close to tears, but Ana knew that time was running short, and if there wasn’t a next week, or even a tomorrow, there were things that needed to be said, things to get in order before … well, before the inevitable.

Time was short.

Watching and waiting

The child has made herself known to me, now.  Eyla.  Ana talks in her sleep so much and so often that it would all make sense to me would she have the energy to speak with me at length about it when she is awake.  All of the names and places that escape her lips while she is in her fitful dream states.  That ones name I had heard many times before I saw her, and so she at least is one I know now.

I knew she was here, or that someone was, but not exactly who the soul was until recently.  That child, or what remains of that child is so full of equal amounts of anger and now, in the face of her ‘mother’s’ illness, sadness, that one can’t help but feel her presence, for when it is near it fills the room with such darkness and despair that the very air we breathe feels thick and hard to swallow.

I’m uncertain if she is helping or hindering Ana’s current condition, but Lord Stormblood assures me that she could not be banished even if we wished it so, and the one time we have spoken of it, it was made known to me that nothing good would come of the souls departure.  Far from it.  So I leave it be.  The child and I stand vigil together now, strange companions in a way, watching and waiting.  But what we are watching is nothing short of tragic.

She fades before my … our eyes.

I’ve taken to sedating my sister now in order for her to be able to get any rest at all.  Though she is still deathly tired and has to be assisted to do the most basic of things these days, she is not getting actual rest that is able to sustain her.  As her belly grows, her weakness grows with it.  I can see the lifeblood draining from her.  I see it in her eyes which grow dull and empty.  She looks at me and we don’t speak.  I already know what she wants to say, how she feels.  They say that the eyes are the windows to one’s soul, and hers is worn out, done.

I know that she only struggles on for the child which grows in her belly.  I know that there are only precious few months left.  I know it as surely as I know that there is nothing in my power that I can do to reverse any of the damage that I see being done day by day.

I despise it already.  I know not how or the reasons why this parasite slowly kills my sister, but I do know that there is something dark at play, some magic that I do not understand.  Perhaps as time goes on, something will become clearer.  Maybe not all hope is lost, not yet.

If there is any justice left in this world, it is that the child will be born as still and lifeless as it’s mother looks certain to become on it’s entrance into it.

If it lives, I will not, I cannot love it.

Parasite

I’ve seen and heard that carrying a child is no picnic.  Far from it, in fact.  It’s the reason, or at least one of the reasons why I have vowed to never put myself through it.  That, and let’s face it, I am no mother material.

It isn’t like Ana to be so clingy and needy, but she has requested that I be nearby while she is unwell, and so I will be.  I’m not sure if Mister Stormblood has taken so kindly to my constant presence, but I will not go unless and until my sister orders me to.

She sleeps.  She sleeps unnatural lengths of time, and often, and when she is awake she looks as if she hasn’t had a wink.  I remember only once before she looked this way, and she very nearly died.  The mental toll on her in that case was more prevalent than anything physical, but this … this is different.

This is worse.

It is nothing but a parasite, a leech, in the truest sense.  Every day, every week that goes by, it drains her very life right before our eyes.  I fear … I fear that neither she nor the parasite that she carries will make it, but I keep that to myself.  I do not speak of such things with her husband.  I can already see the worry in his own eyes.  I might not like the man, but there is little sense in making an already fragile situation worse.

What else can I, can we all do, but endure, until we must not?

You lied, Mommy

She was inside a child’s nursery. The walls papered a pale yellow, furnished with a bed, a sofa, a toy chest, stuffed animals and a huge ornate chandelier, and there, in a crib, draped with soft white curtains lay a tiny, red faced, howling baby.

“The child cries for it’s mother’s touch, Lady Stormblood.”

She’d been here before.  He would reach down to scoop the tiny creature from it’s crib and hand it to her, smiling, now.  She was dreaming.  She knew it.  This was all too familiar.

“Mommy?”  Eyla stared at her now, and she was not standing in the nursery anymore, but sitting, upright, in her bed.  “I’ll always be your favorite, won’t I, Mommy?”

Squeezing her eyes closed, confused, she shook her head and then actually pinched herself. 

Wake up, Ana. 

She opened her mouth to answer the child, but on opening her eyes again, she found herself standing barefoot in the middle of the forest. The moon shone through the treetops, fragmented, yet still bright as it hit the forest floor around her.  Closing her eyes, she inhaled through her nose, taking in the familiar scent of the place.  She knew exactly where she was.  A bird cried out somewhere in the distance and she startled as she heard the sound of wood breaking behind her at the same time as if she wasn’t alone.

“You lied!” 

Wincing, she pressed her hands to her temples as her ears started ringing, and the very ground beneath her feet began to feel unsteady as if she might pass out.  The voice was filled with so much rage.  She’d heard it before, right before …

“You lied to me, Mommy!  You LIED!”

The words reverberated in her head and Ana cried out in pain as her head began to pound, dropping to her knees, mouthing the word “No” right before everything went black.

When her eyes opened again, she expected to be awake, or at least somewhere else, but all she felt was the cold forest floor beneath her cheek, the smell of the dirt and foliage fresh in her nose and she moved a hand to brush her hair from her face, but another hand was already there, doing it for her. 

“You lied, Mommy.” 

The words were the same, but the voice, different.

“Wait!”

She cried out as she sat up, in time to see the shock of long flowing red hair disappear into the thick forest ahead.  

And then blackness, again.