She stepped out into the brightly lit living room of their small apartment, large windows with stone ledges lining white walls, no glass in between, leaving the crisp air open to breeze into the room. Lit only by the streams of moonlight that beamed in through the large windows of the apartment. Hugging herself, the lithe Neflin stepped over to one of the large windows, she stepped unto the stone ledge with a practiced carefulness, standing upon the edge, her bare feet curling over the cold stone as she peered out across the Altalar district, peering to the stars up above as a breeze brushed through, her waist length, crimson waves gently disturbed with movement. She exhaled outwards.
She knew they worried for her, she did, really. The Brood that slept in the apartment with her, the aristocrat she guided from darkness ages ago, the Violet guard thats heart was broken into two, the blonde Altalar woman who had confessed her love to her, but was given silence in return. It was a funny thing to her, because she was no saint, and she thought them fools for thinking so. She fancied the other half of Regalia, the ones that had stabbed her in the back, the ones that waited eagerly to swing their blades down upon her neck. They met her expectations at least. But feelings. She did not do them. Didn't want to, at least.
She could not show fear, when the Violets or more specifically nobles wanted it. Pride compelled her not to, and instead it came out in brash anger and defiance, as fear had often presented to her. She could not react calmly when dealt with an unfortunate hand—rage usually enfolded it. She could not hold her tongue when it was necessary. She was not restrained. Oh and how it bothered Regalia, how it poked their tempers and fueled their cruelties.
Fen'nan looked to the vial in her hand.
No. She was not good or morale.
~~~
Silverware clicked quietly against ornate plates that echoed through the large dining space of the Ithanian estate. A young Fen'nan sat at one end of the long dining table, which was filled with various platters of food and wealth, and at the other end, sat a pale, blonde Altalar, sleek blonde hair braided back from his clean-shaven, sharp, angular handsome face of high cheekbones and ice blue eyes that gave him a cold look, his dark clothing with silver embroidery making the paleness of him stand out more. He stared across the table at a disinterested looking Fen'nan whos cosmetics only did so much to hide her thinning, hollow features and dark shadows of her youthful features. A late teen at most.
He paused in his eating, fork hovering above the succulent chicken on his plate as he stared at her. She felt his gaze but did not look up to it. She thought she should feel nervous. With the guards that lined the red walls of the room, with all the things that could go wrong should they betray her.
But she felt nothing. She'd felt nothing for the past month. Venalaris spoke after a moment, tension hung thick in the air like fresh paint. Almost as thick as the smell of incense and perfume that hung in the air. A request of hers he had followed. He owed it to her. All that and much more.
"I am surprised," he spoke with a quiet softness in D'ithanie, "that you came, but I'm proud to know I have taught you when to quit your losing battles and accept defeat, at the least."
Fen'nan gave pause to her eating, hollow blue-green eyes flicking to meet his ice ones. His pale lips curled into a slow, thin smile, his dimples curving with it. His gaze was that of some mild admiration. "Defeat?" she echoed quietly, staring blankly at him.
"Do you disagree?" He questioned in a sleek tone, his eyes boring into her. She paused. The weight of the gold piercing at the tip of her ear felt much heavier. She looked to her food then, or rather her plate, picking some recently dried blood from her nails, she erased the barest trace of a smile from her face as she thought of what she'd done earlier.
"Yes." She answered shortly in a flat, bare tone.
His smile fell briefly in some surprise before it returned, before he gave a dismissive wave of his free hand. "I understand your mind states a bit frail of course, with everything, so I will grant you some leniency." He said with a dismissiveness that sent a jolt of anger through her core. An emotion after a month. She clung to it and did not let go as he went on, pausing momentarily as his eyes scanned her, "Your wounds have recovered nicely," he murmured gently before gesturing across the table to her, "Drink," he said, a hint of sternness to his tone, "you're tense."
She glanced to her goblet filled with wine before she glanced back to him. Wine. She hated wine. He knew that. "You called me here to discuss business. So talk." But she'd come for more. A lot more.
He clapped his hands together, "Ah! Straight to the point, that's poor manners, you know." He said smoothly, reaching out as his long fingers clasped around a gold goblet. She eyed the jeweled rings around his hand as he lifted the goblet to his lips and drank deeply. She watched him, watched his lips pull away from the cup, licking the dark red liquid from his lips. It reminded her of blood. This whole room did. The red walls. It should've made her agitated. Made her irritable like it used to. But she felt nothing. His face was blank.
"But alas, I know the loss of Azekeil was hard on you. He was quite the character, I suppose." He said in his smooth, velvet voice. He stood up, and she watched him as he crossed across the floor before he stopped in front of her, lightly sitting his long lengthy form on the corner of the dining table, his legs crossing somewhat.
"Where is he buried?" She asked in the same hollow voice, a familiar numbness settling in her.
"So you can find it and pour you heart out, your 'soul'? Cry all over again? I think not. That is not what I built you into. You do not cry." He said as he patted her shoulder a tad too harshly, his jeweled rings knocking against her skin. "A white lie had to be made to get you here somehow, apologies. How are you feeling, Sparrow?" He murmured, tilting his head.
"You're wrong." She said with a quietness, still hollow. Still nothing.
"I suppose I am," he said leaning in so his face was mere inches from her own, "you don't have a soul to lose, you've already given it," he replied lowly as his hand tucked a strand of crimson hair behind her pointed ear, pausing as he beheld the gold stud earring within its tip, his lips forming into a cold, thin line, mere inches from her own, she peered to the sweat that beaded on his forehead, to the sickly red taint his cheeks were forming.
"No." Fen'nan said quietly, "that's not it. The soul. You're wrong about it." She stated.
"Where is my error then, hmm?" He asked in a sleek voice even as he gave a sudden huff of air, as if he'd been hit, he pressed a hand to his warm cheek, his bright eyes narrowed, darting around the table then.
"No. It was not my soul I sold," she whispered, "Because it has little purpose to me and I would have gladly given it." Slowly his gaze locked on hers, widening slowly as she spoke, realization dawning in him. His hand moved to his stomach, face contorting in pain. He made a noise, wincing.
"But it was my heart." She breathed as she stood, her face transforming into something defiant and fiery as he was forced to step back, clutching his stomach he gave a grunt.
"What...have you done to me, Sadima?" He demanded, giving another groan as he took another step back and doubled over in pain.
She gave a bitter laugh, "Noooo Venalaris what have you done?" She reached into the pockets of the sleek red, evening dress she adorned, pulling out a small glass vial with a green, cloudy liquid that swished around inside it. Her features a new form of cruel delight as she held it up between two fingers, he peered up with strained features, shaking his head in some dread and dismay as he crashed and toppled into the side of the table.
"Jīnyú Dú," she mused as she stepped around his kneeling form, "Not an easy thing to acquire, really, nearly took me /an entire month/ to get, stops all bodily functions ever so slowly," she took the carving knife from the chicken, inspecting it as Venalaris slammed a fist on the table.
She glanced to him lazily as he clenched his teeth, his pale face red with anger and the sickly taint of poison as he snarled at her, "I made you! You can not kill me!" He shouted, slamming his fist upon the table once more. He was enraged. He was losing power. Losing control.
"Oh I'm not gonna kill you, Venalaris," she said as she knelt down to his level, patting his shoulder with a cold smile, "I'm just not gonna save you from the death I've given you," she tapped the knife on his shoulder with the same too-sweet smile before she turned and drove it into his hand that was on the table. He screamed.
She wasn't the least bit fazed as she straightened and turned to the guards that lined the red walls. All stared with wider eyes towards her, Ailor and Altalar exchanging glances alike.
Fen'nan reached into her pocket, returning the poisonous coal and retrieving another vial from its pocket. She set it down loudly on the table, facing the guards. "Go ahead! Here's the anti-venom." She called out to the room, gesturing to the groaning Venalaris, "Save him. Save the man that has used you and wielded you like senseless tools." She clapped her hands together, "But maybe that's not enough—maybe some of you don't know Venalaris. Maybe you don't know that he's hardly for Ithania. He would see it burn. You all with it. "
The guards murmured to one another at this, much to the wealthy mans agony behind her. Venalaris moved to pry the knife out of his hand, tugging until Fen reached over and slammed it back down, he emitted another shout of pain and anger.
"What's it like to be at the mercy of a little person, what's it like to be on your knees before me this time?" She crooned, twisting the knife a little and grinning as he screamed. "What's it like to beg ME for life this time? How the tables have turned on you."
He gave a mad laugh, shaking his head as he sneered up at her, "Look at you— a true monster. Tell me if you've risen or fallen, Sparrow. Tell me—aghhhh.."
He cut off as he fell to the ground, clutching his stomach, face beaded in sweat. Fen felt a cruel delight, a sick enjoyment. She did not feel remorse. Not once. "Both," she answered coldly as she watched him writhe in pain. Removed. something hurt and uncontrolled. Her blue-green eyes glinted with dark maliciousness.
"This is for Azekeil. This is for the little people. For the ones I've murdered for you. For the people you've hurt. Lives lost and ruined. For the boy you indebted and tortured. For the girl you transformed. This is for everything. And when I leave for Regalia I will never think on you. You meant nothing." She said quietly as she watched him pant on the floor, his stomach wracked by intense growing pains. He gave an abrupt laugh.
"You foolish, foolish girl." He grounded out through clenched teeth, laughing still in his fading madness, "I am your hero compared to Regalia." He hissed, "you will not survive a year as you are, Sparrow."
She shook her head and gave an arrogant laugh, "I will survive. I will deal with Regalia too. As I have dealt with you. Little people come back. I did. I'll help them come back."
Venalaris clutched his stomach tightly, his tall form writhing amongst the ground. "You're mad. Regalia will crush you, you have no place in your birthplace. You are nothing without me!" He roared before he gave another yell of pain as another stomach pain took him.
Sadima Hale Eluvenuris gave a cruel smile down to the dying man.
"Life's all about the revolution then, innit?"
~~~~
She peered down at the small vial in her hand now, clasped in the palm scarred by the Red Lion sigil, at the green, cloudy liquid. She'd received it from Asan, though how he'd gotten it was a mystery. Not that she cared, in what she did. Fen'nan ran her scarred, calloused fingertips over the glass vial before she looked back to the stars painted across the dark skies. She shuddered though it was not from the chill but the memory of ice blue eyes that haunted her, and it was the quiet times like these where she would peek back over her shoulder, as if she might see him lurk in the shadows. Dead men didn't talk—but he seemed to all the time. But tonight she did not look over her shoulder, thinking back on his words rather, he may as well have stood beside her now and mocked her.
She once thought back on that night with a cruel glee and delight. Laughed at the past she'd left behind, a past that would never catch up to her.
But now she felt stupid.
Because more than anything she feared Venalaris was right all along. Maybe Regalia had crushed her. Maybe she was mad. And maybe. Maybe she was nothing.
But she did know. That she was not good or morale. That even monsters lurked in the brightest, hottest flames.
And she was no exception.
@MrHasagi
(Cause Milo lol)
Last edited:
