Pride

[Veatrix]

((SOLO - a getting back into the game thinger))

((Sequel to The Pharoas (http://althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=15347), based off of Ayumi Hamasaki's "Pride (http://ayumi.primenova.com/lyrics/pride.htm)"))

Hello? Is anybody even out here?

Standing completely naked in the gusting and rollicking waves of a dream-like watery world, Veatrix Bane, one of the many lost half-Butterfly Elves, was surrounded by black shadows. No reflections, no light, no heat, no cold, no emotion could be found in the unnerving void. Where she was, she did not know, and her heart began racing. Panic began feeding into her, seeping into her pale body like poison.

Blurred images danced through her head like mystifying gypsies flaunting their beautiful temptations. Veatrix called out into the darkness, unsure of where she was or what to expect when and if the darkness broke. Her voice was swallowed by the gloom, misty and murky, an interdimensional dreamland swamp. Nothing dwelled in the darkness, but deep within the recesses of her being, Veatrix noticed a slight tug on her heart. She felt a presence – wise and worthy, prideful and peaceful, all-encompassing and masterful. The darkness throbbed.

She was not alone in the black.

The freedom you have is dazzling, said a girl.

Her voice was spell-binding, mystical and ancient in nature. Her words looped, but instead of English phrases, Veatrix heard the unmistakable hiss of a perfectly-accented Pharotongue, language of the Butterfly Elves.

The voice echoed in the murky black, bouncing off the invisible walls of whatever strange dreamland or dimension Veatrix had ended up in. Her glorious golden blonde hair was invisible in the shadows. The sensation of looking into the salty sea seemed permanent, as the girl’s eyes stung in the black. Everything swirled, rifting like the ocean the boat splashed upon but everything never seemed to move, as if in permanent stasis. The darkness was discombobulating – it mystified Veatrix more than most things in her desolate life.

Squinting into the void with her chestnut brown eyes, framed with exotic silver eyelashes courtesy of her half-Pharoas heritage, Veatrix tried to locate the source of the sound. Everywhere, the black engulfed her, ebbing but not ebbing, flowing but not flowing. She put out a slim hand tentatively, hoping to feel her way towards the speaker.

Where am I?

The experience was jarring, having no control of her mouth. Veatrix gasped. No English words came out of her mouth, no vocal commands or questions. No phrases or sentences spoke through the darkness. All that came from her mouth were unearthly whispers and hisses – Pharotongue. Her mouth spoke automatically, having no regard for the worth of the English language in this mysterious dimension.

You have locked yourself in, and there is only one way out, the voice nonchalantly explained. It seemed like it came from every fibre of being in the darkness, emanating and owning the black like it was its pet. Veatrix was trapped.

She shivered at the thought. Being trapped was almost as bad as being dead – possibly even worse.

I don’t understand.

Of course you don’t. Nobody does. But you do, past your promises and your pride. You understand.

No, I don’t, Veatrix argued, fear hiking up in her chest like a mountain climber. Stop speaking in riddles!

The voice snapped at her furiously. Then I will make you understand!

An exploding pain erupted from her back, a searing pain she was familiar with, as it had happened before. It was just a formality, yet another revelation she had to endure for her to put aside her stupid pride. Like before, her excruciating screams penetrated the darkness like a rough lover, forcing themselves to be heard by everyone. Skin, bones and muscles stretched out and away from the area of the growing appendages, rearranging themselves for something much more important. Beautiful crystal clear wings sprouted from her back, exactly like her past dream-like state, expanding until they covered the expanse of her body. The wings gleamed in the darkness, being the only source of light in the dream-like dimension, flapping tentatively, like a newborn baby testing out its powerful crying voice. With a whimper, Veatrix collapsed on the shifting wave-like ground, breathing hard.

The mystical voice of the girl hissed quietly, sounding faintly comforting.

What is it that you truly want to have?

[Veatrix]

“How is she?”

Llewelyn Johns reached out a hand to feel the sleeping Veatrix’s neck. The moment his skin came in contact with hers, he pulled away, clasping his hand.

“She’s burning up still. Those wings really took a toll on her.”

He glanced at the crystal clear wings flapping gently, emanating a while glow. They grew out of her many hours ago, too suddenly and apparently very painfully, and neither of the Johns knew what to think or do about them.

His ten-year old son Lacey nodded grimly as he sat in the corner of their dank cabin. All the cabin had were two chairs, a bedside table, another larger table and a bed – simplicity was an understatement. The ship’s captain provided them with a single oil lamp, since they weren’t actual passengers. They just happened to be there for the ride. The lights were dim, night had finally come upon them, and the room smelt faintly of dried fish. Everything rocked from side to side, and the constant movement of the boat had made many a passenger seasick. The journey from Scara Brae to Corone’s Radasanth city was not supposed to be rocky; the boat ride was expected to be calm and quick. Unfortunately, a small storm had come upon themselves, helplessly rocking the ship back and forth while it travelled slowly to Radasanth.

Llewelyn took the damp cloth sitting on the bedside table and dipped it into a bowl of fresh, cool sea water. Draining it of the excess liquid, he pressed the cloth against Veatrix’s forehead, making the waters steam and evaporate in a matter of seconds. A loud hiss echoed through the dark room, amplified by the lack of furniture.

“She has to be kept cool,” he began, his paternal affections almost bringing him to him to tears as he stared at his sick foster child.

“Papa…,” Lacey mumbled. “Is she going to be alright?”

Putting on a wide smile, he responded with a much too hearty yes.

Unconvinced, Lacey nodded dourly.

Hope was all the three of them had left. After almost being murdered by a pure Butterfly Elf assassin in Scara Brae, the Johns residence being burned to a crisp and Veatrix’s biological father and foster mother killed, hope was all that was keeping them alive. They hoped to find something, anything to give them a proper life in Radasanth, a city none of them knew particularly well. Llewelyn, out of the three, was the one that clung to hope the most, because Thayne knew what else he could hang on to.

No home, no job, very little money and a scarred family was all he had.

He had no idea where Veatrix’s heritage would lead them, because in all honesty, and though he hated admitting it, she was the reason for their demise. Veatrix was a half-Butterfly Elf, or more historically correct, a half-Pharoas. Half-breeds in the Pharoas kingdom deserved death, as punishment for “muddling their blood.” They had already come after her once, to devastating results, forcing them to uproot away from Scara Brae, the only home the Johns’ had ever known. Who was to be sure that they wouldn’t come after he again?

Looking at the young girl, her golden blonde hair damp from all her sweat, Veatrix’s eyes trembled slightly, her silver eyelashes opening. She seemed far from waking up, though, so again he wiped her forehead with the cloth, caressing her hair like a father would his child. Sadly, he wasn’t so sure if being around Veatrix was safe anymore, not that it ever was. He had Lacey to take care of, and if Veatrix always got into mortal danger, he wasn’t so sure if it was worth being with her.

[Veatrix]

I don’t understand…, Veatrix whimpered, keeling over on the solid air.

The darkness still swallowed her whole, like a whale feeding on its daily dosage of plankton. The only source of light were her crystalline wings, beautiful yet fragile, large and imposing but powerless. They flapped lightly and neither of them seemed to notice that they were attached to Veatrix. The wings seemed to be separate entities, possessing minds of their own. They paid Veatrix no notice as she hyperventilated on the ground, reeling for the outstanding pain from growing them back out.

Yes, you do. The voice retorted, sounding slightly disgruntled. Put away your pride and tell me what you want.

Her eyes still searching for the owner of the voice, Veatrix moaned. I don’t have any pride… there is nothing for me to be proud of.

Nothing to be proud of? Dear, dear… you have everything to be proud of, just put everything aside.

What do you mean?

Suddenly, the pain in her back began to subside, the throb of her outgrowing wings dissipating like simple winds. The crystal clear wings fluttered gleefully, free from the throbbing sting of being newly grown. Although they were like newborn children, still unsuitable to the harshness of the world, the wings flapped tremendously as if begging for release from Veatrix’s back. They had minds of their own, and their minds were telling them to be free. Being stuck on a weakling body was no fun.

Noticing the way her wings tried to fly away, but not actually going anywhere, Veatrix smirked. I can’t control them?

The voice sounded a proud smile. Now you are beginning to understand.

But why can’t I control them?

Because you have not told me what you want.

But I don’t want anything…, Veatrix said.

Veatrix was lying. She did want. Not only did she want, but she desired, she lusted, she needed, she craved, she was dying for what she wanted. She wanted life and luxury. She wanted pleasure and excitement. She was child wanting to the see world, no matter how dark and how evil it could be. And the world had not held back with its darkness. The world had gladly showed her what a harsh world it was. Veatrix did not want nothing, she wanted everything.

Drowning in thick realization, Veatrix answered the mysterious voice’s question.

I don’t know what I want.

Humbling herself, she sat on the still solid air, wings flapping gently. The shadows still surrounded her like an angry mob, but she relished in the darkness. There was something about the black that felt at home to her.

Show me what I want.

[Veatrix]

“Whoa!”

The ship lurched with such force that Lacey was thrown off his chair in the corner of the dank room. Flying to the ground, he landed chest first with a dull thud. Messy brown hair burying into the floor and arms sprawled, Lacey looked comically helpless. Rushing to his side, Llewelyn almost lost balance when the ship rocked the other direction, throwing Veatrix’s pack that was resting on the table to the opposite end of the room.

“Looks like the storm’s picking up,” Llewelyn commented, grabbing his son by the shoulder and leading him to stand back up.

“How are we going to get to Radasanth if there’s a storm out there?” Lacey said, his hand flying to the small glass window, high ocean waters slapping against in the strong blowing of the outside’s winds.

With a strong smile and fatherly countenance, Llewelyn hoped for the best.

“We’ll get there safely,” he replied, voice thick with good-natured deceit.

“How can you be so sure, Papa?” His voice had an edge only childish fear and uncertainty could contain.

Trying to be as optimistic as he could, without betraying any of his own fears, Llewelyn placed a warm, fatherly hand on his son’s shoulder. Looking him straight in the eyes, he answered him with such deep certainty that even he forgot that all he said was a lie.

“We’ve always pulled through, right? We’ve always made it past any kind of stuff that we come across, right? Then this will be just the same as those other times… only just a bit harder. So what if we’re going to Radasanth? So what if we don’t have a home, or jobs, or any friends? We’ll get through this. I promise.”

What a righteous pile of horse shit, he thought, hating himself for lying to his son, who seemed to believe every word he said.

“Okay,” came the innocuous reply.

Both of them turned to Veatrix, who though was unfazed by the dizzying lurches of the ship, was slowly slipping off them bed. Her blanket tossed aside and pillows messily stranded on the floor, the two of them worked to push her back on the bed. Neither of them knew what would happen if they touched her wings, which seemed to cause her great pain hours ago when they first grew. They didn’t want to take the chance to know what would happen if they were crushed by Veatrix’s weight because of an accidental fall.

“Push her back on to the bed, we don’t want her to fall,” Llewelyn said, pushing Veatrix’s sleeping body back on to the messy stash that was the blanket and pillows.

Though she was just a bit heavy, the two of them finally got to push her back into the middle of the bed, resting peacefully as if nothing had happened.

“If the ship does that again, she just might fall off.”

As if on queue, the ship lurched forward again, this time harder and stronger than the previous two. The crew upstairs must have really been tackling against some unbeatable odds, as the storm outside raged on like an angry Queen.

[Veatrix]

Tell me, is this what you want?

Images swirled around in the darkness, all blurry and drenched in water. They danced across Veatrix’s eyesight, colouring the darkness with seemingly unfamiliar hues that the girl had to squint and adjust her chestnut eyes to the colour. Standing up, she reached out a hand to the spinning images – something within her told her to stroke the images gently. She felt a pull within her heart and obeying its command, her hand dove into the images.

Suddenly, two spectres appeared before one – a man and a woman. The man was tall, lean and adventurous, though humble in nature, while the mother looked stern and loving at the same time. They gleamed in the darkness, a greenish-white unearthly glow shining light upon Veatrix’s naked body. The two spirit figures were holding hands, lovingly it seemed, and looking at her affectionately. Smiling and laughing, they called out to Veatrix voicelessly. Her heart pounded in her chest, realizing who these figures were.

Are they what you want?

Veatrix gasped. Victor and Cassandra Bane, her deceased parents, or ghost figures of them, stood before her, tempting her.

Tell me.

Seconds passed, and then minutes, and then hours. Time seemed to stand still, waiting for Veatrix’s answer. The whole black dimension paused at Veatrix’s pause. Finally, she sighed heavily, looking away from the ghostly spectres.

No, Veatrix whispered. I’m tired of relying on others. And they are dead. They are not what I want.

The darkness shuddered, throwing Veatrix off-guard. She almost fell over as the spectres swirled back into the spinning mish-mash of images, scooped up by an invisible vacuum. Their cheerful expression never changed as they were drawn in by the darkness, disappearing back into the images that danced in front of her. In exchange for Veatrix’s parents, two other figures stepped out, both looking very familiar and very much alive.

The next ones were of the same nature as the other two – ghostly pale, translucent with a green-white sheen. Only this time, the two were both males, walking side by side proudly. One was a taller adult man, gentle and meek with infinite amounts of love in his heart. The other was a rowdy and innocent child, a boy not older than ten, looking up to his father expectantly.

Again, the mysterious voice pestered Veatrix with her riddle-like questions.

Are they what you want?

Nodding in acknowledgement, Veatrix recognized Llewelyn and Lacey Johns, standing eerily in the sold air of the black dream-state dimension.

Tell me.

With a determined look, Veatrix shook her head. She wanted the Johns to be safe, away from her, because she knew not of what dangers her life her for her. She was the only family she had left, and they weren’t even her real family. She wanted to keep them alive for as long as possible – the only way to do that was to part ways.

No, Veatrix murmured. These ones I still care about, but they need to be safe. I want them to be safe, but they are not what I want.

The mysterious voice in the gloom seemed to understand, as the Johns’ figures blew back into the images. Speaking loudly, the wise woman’s voice resonated in the shadows.

So be it.

[Veatrix]

The sea raged on, almost causing the small cargo ship Llewelyn, Lacey and the sleeping Veatrix were riding on to dangerously capsize. The crew had begun to panic – the storm was unexpectedly strong and the captain had already been thrown off the wheel at least twice. The wind howled like a dying ghost and the warmth inside the cabins had died down to a slow and paralyzing chill. Things didn’t look very good for the trip to Radasanth.

“She’s going to fall again, Papa!” Lacey cried, reaching for Veatrix as the ship creaked.

Veatrix, still sleeping heavily, almost fell of the bed again from the force of the lurching ship. She was thrown to the very edge of the bed, but the rest of the bed spread was already bunched up across the room.

Standing up from the wooden floor, Llewelyn crawled to the bedside and sat there, hoping that his back would prevent Veatrix’s body from falling off.

“Sit beside me so she doesn’t fall!”

Everything was noisy, since the two of them could hear the barking orders of the captain and the crew’s wailing from the deck. Their room was fairly deep inside the ship – if the voices could be heard from that much of a distance, they must have really been having quite the struggle. The winds howled into the night, accompanied by the occasional thunderclap, which terrified the young Lacey. Both of them had to scream at each other to be heard.

“It’s like they’re having a war up there!” Lacey called out as he sat beside his father, clutching his knees, shivering.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to Radasanth fine!”

No point in giving up hope for him now, Llewelyn thought gravely. If we don’t make it, at least he won’t be all scared about it.

As if on cue, Lacey sighed. “I’m scared, Papa.”

“Don’t be, it’ll all be alright.” He put a warm fatherly arm around his son, holding him tightly, securely, safely. Smiling faintly, he tried to make things even just a little better. “Think about this. When we get to Radasanth, you, me and Veatrix can all live a new life. We can set up a bread-making stand, or we could sell ancient artifacts. But we do have to find those first, so we might be able to go on adventures! You’d like that-“

All of a sudden, the ship gave another lurch, throwing their oil lamp from the floor, where it fell before, to the wall. Lacey had put in there so it wouldn’t have to fall high distance, in hopes that it wouldn’t break. It was the only thing that was giving him hope, aside from the fast-waning countenance his father was trying to hold. Unfortunately, the oil lamp hit the wall and made a large crash. Exploding instantly, fires escaped from the broken lamp, climbing up the wooden wall and setting everything quickly aflame.

“Papa, what do we do!” Lacey screamed, his eyes staring at the bright red-orange flames blossoming before him.

[Veatrix]

Tell me, is this what you want?

In the darkness of the void, Veatrix stood watching as something dragged slowly towards her with intense imminence. At first, all she could see was a dark figure snailing somewhere in the distance, moving soundlessly on the solid air they both stood on. It moved so slowly that Veatrix almost didn’t notice it, until the mysterious voice rumbled something about a choice moving in the far distance.

As it glided ever closer, the half-Pharoas could feel the place get colder, eviller and deathlier. It seemed that as the figure came closer, things that should have existed died without a word or a sound. Had flowers, or trees, or furry little animals lived in the darkness of the void, surely they would have experienced the dying touch of the malevolent figure.

When it stood in front of Veatrix, she gasped, an ochre skull dressed in black tattered robes stared at her with its eyeless gaze, holding a bloody rusting spear in its left hand and an ancient-looking hourglass in its right.

I AM DEATH, the cold skull stated, its voice seemingly talking directly into Veatrix’s head without any movement of its pale jaw. It sounded like a body being dragged against jagged stones.

The voice sounded a nod, satisfied with Veatrix’s next choice. I can give you death and end your miserable existence.

Eyes looking directly into the eye sockets of the skull, hoping that some flicker of hope, of light might show itself, Veatrix replied, Why would I want that?

Because you want something to end. What that may be, I am not sure, but the end of your life may prove to be a sufficient answer.

Threateningly, Death raised its spear, agreeing with the voice that summoned it.

WHEN YOU DIE, Death explained in his gravelly voice. EVERYTHING YOU GAINED, EVERYTHING YOU LOST, DOES NOT MATTER. THERE IS NO JOY, THERE IS NO PAIN, THERE IS NO LIVING OR DYING. THERE IS JUST YOU, AND NOTHING ELSE.

You do not have to rely on anything else, when you die, said the voice wisely.

Veatrix was torn between her choices. On one hand, life was sometimes too hard to live that death seemed the inevitable choices. This was why for the suicidal, death was the solution to everything. On the other hand, death closed off all other possible choices that she could make. Death closed off all the wrongs she could right, all the things she could see and do. Death would be both freedom and entrapment, a paradox that was just another phase in the grander scheme of life.

If I chose to die, Veatrix said tentatively. Where would I go? Or is there even somewhere to go?

That is for us to know.

AND FOR YOU TO FIND OUT.

Veatrix nodded, understanding the choices presented to her. It was either life or death, and though both had their advantages, one shined more to her than the other. She was sick of living life trapped in between misery after misery, failure after failure, death after death. She was tired of being used and abused, of being chased down. She was tired of being afraid. Looking at Death with fiery eyes, she gathered up all the strength she had in her.

I do not need you. I’m tired of being weak. I know what I want and what I seek, Veatrix said coldly, a change for her usual sunny demeanour. But the sun had not been shining on her for a while, sunny dispositions were not on queue.

AND WHAT IT IS THAT YOU SEEK, VEATRIX BANE?

What I seek is none of your business.

The voice resonated in the dark void as Death was swallowed up into its own cloak, called back to do its regular bidding as the bringer of the end of life.

So be it.

[Veatrix]

The storm outside was still as unforgiving as ever, almost throwing half the crew off the ship. Inside, the orange-red fires raged on as Llewelyn and Lacey Johns acted on pure instinct. Making their way to the sleeping, or rather, unconscious Veatrix, they tried to lift her out from the bed. Using all of his strength, Llewelyn carried her dead-weight body out of the room, careful that her wings didn’t fold into themselves as he lifted her off the bed. Lacey hastily opened the door out of the room, where they could hear the rest of the crew panicking up on the deck.

“Where do we go?!”

“We have to find somewhere safe and let the others know there’s a fire!”

Lacey shivered nervously. “If the ship burns down-“

“Don’t say such things,” Llewelyn scolded, overwhelmed by all the chaos around them.

Adjusting the weight of Veatrix, Llewelyn pointed to the left with his head, motioning for his son to follow him. Neither of them knew where to go or what they were doing, especially since the storm angrily blew the ship from side to side constantly. They ran through the corridors of the door, trying to find someone to let them know about the fire, but it seemed that most of the crew was upstairs.

“Where is everyone?” Lacey asked, looking around for any sign of life.

“They might be upstairs fighting against the storm. Come on!”

Llewelyn found a small cabinet filled with brooms and mops and sponges, and placed Veatrix on a large box in a sitting position. Almost doubling over from another ship lurch, he grabbed one of the large cloths lying around in the cabinet.

“I’m going to put out the fire, stay here!”

Lacey began to protest, not wanting to stay with the unconscious Veatrix as his father put his life in danger. But he was too late, as the usually quiet and gentle man pounded back to their room. The fire miraculously managed to stay almost the same, burning up a small part of the wall. Oil was splattered on the wall from the broken lamp, its glass shards melted from burning in the fire for too long. Taking the large sheet, he covered the small fire up, in an attempt to calm it down. He stamped on it unsuccessfully, as the fire swallowed the sheet up, flames licking at it like hungry cats.

Irritated and scared, Llewelyn cursed his luck. He had an unconscious girl and a little boy sitting in a closet on a ship that’s likely to sink any time soon, and there was a fire inside. For the first time in a very long time, Llewelyn lost his grasp on hope.

[Veatrix]

Tell me, what do you want?

Veatrix stood completely naked in the darkness, with her wings gleaming brightly, like lighthouses in the middle of a bay. She was a beautiful light in the void, the only smidge of truth in the dreamlike dimension she seemed to have spent ages in. No images floated around here this time, no phantasmal figures creeped up to her, no hooded skeletons bearing dangerous-looking scythes. She was alone, save for the wise woman’s voice resonating throughout the whole being of the universe.

You have turned away your past and your preset. You have turned away what family you had, and what family you have left. You have turned away an end in the form of death. You have turned away death itself, and many have seen their fates end at this crossroads. Put away your pride – there is desire in your heart and I can clearly see it. Only you can tell me, though. Leave your pride at your feet.

A dawning came over Veatrix, like a wave washing over her woman’s body, caressing her skin with its cool touch and relaxing her muscles. A revelation passing over her left her almost speechless, the iciness of the feeling leaving her numb for a couple of minutes. Her mouth opened, and then closed, and then opened, and then closed. Was this revelation only shown to her because she knew she wanted more than just seeing the world? Or was it already living in her heart, an idea so profound that the Veatrix of a few years back would not be able to comprehend?

Last year, Veatrix was a simple girl looking for life, for adventure, for something new. She had just gotten out of the town that despised her for her half-Pharoas heritage. She delighted in the prospect of being able to see the world on her own, without the assistance of her parents, who are now dead. They were assassinated by a Queen that wanted her dead, for defiling her “pure Pharoas blood.” All the circumstances she had been given had brought her to the crossroads – now she was to decide where her life was headed. True, she was headed to Radasanth, to start life anew, but deep within her, Veatrix knew that her life was not meant to be normal.

I think I know what I want. Veatrix whispered. Her Pharotongue lacked the novice accent and the unnecessary tongue-rollings – she spoke it perfectly. It was a strange sensation, to be able to speak the language of a culture not wanting to have any associations with her.

Congratulations on finally laying your pride down. You are human, and all human desire. Now tell me, Veatrix Bane. What do you want?

I want three things. Speaking loudly, confidently, Veatrix continued. I want Llewelyn and Lacey to be safe, away from me, away from danger. I want them to be able to live a normal life, without me, because all I do is bring them misery.

That can be easily done. What else?

I want to live and I want to die like everyone else. However I die is up to the fates, but I want to live. Veatrix trembled at the thought of dying, but she knew it was inevitable.

That can be done as well. And finally?

I want power.

The mysterious voice seemed taken aback. The response did not seem to be the one she was looking for. Power?

Power, Veatrix explained. I don’t want to be weak anymore. I want to be able to protect myself, to have the courage to take the reins of my life. To have that courage, I need power. I don’t care what kind of power, because I already have my sword and my magic. I just want power.

Did you want to meet people in power? Or did you want a specific type of power? Or was there-

No. I just want power, whatever that may encompass.

The voice paused. After a long while, she spoke again.

So be it.

[Veatrix]

And the ship sank.

It wasn’t one of those grand scenes of sinking ships, a leviathan-sized boat capsizing over, with passengers screaming and dangling from key points of the ship. On the contrary, the sinking ship seemed quieter, mostly because the noise the crew made was drowned out by the angry storm that raged on, ultimately ruining the journey to Radasanth. The crew tried to pull the ship back into gear with some rigorous steering and sailing, but to no avail. In the grand scheme of it all, the ship sinking was disastrous. And there certainly was no band playing its funeral dirge.

Llewelyn and Lacey were both thrown off the ship when it lurched again, powerfully. They looked like falling stars as they sailed through the heavy rains of the night sky, screaming and flailing before they hit the ice cold waters in the Radasanth vicinity. They had managed to pull Veatrix out of the cupboard they stored her and brought her to the deck, along with the little items they had. When they were thrown off the ship, they lost sight of her unconscious body.

“LACEY!” Llewelyn cried out to his son, searching the waters for any sign of a smallish body. He caught sight of arms waving crazily in the air, until they were pushed aside by strong waves. He was swallowed massive amount of sea waters and swam, arms sore from the paddling, towards his drowning son.

“PAPA!” Lacey managed to breathe, as the father grabbed a hold of the boy, carrying him by his armpits to keep him afloat. “We’re gonna die, Papa!”

“No, we’re not!” said Llewelyn firmly, spitting out salt water. His feet paddled madly, as he tried to keep the two of them above the waters.

Water splashed everywhere, like they were being attacked by a sea serpent, a thought that may seem farfetched but was entirely possible, considering where they were. The waters between Radasanth and Scara Brae were known to inhabit strange, undiscovered creatures of all kinds. But that didn’t stop any of the crew from jumping off the ship. They knew a lost cause when they saw one, and they just hoped that Radasanth was just a few hours of swimming away.

“Where’s Veatrix?!” Lacey screamed into his father’s ear.

“I don’t know, but we have to find something to hold on to!” Grabbing for the nearest floating debris, the remnants of what possibly could have been a table, the two of them took hold, calling out to their foster family.

Veatrix was still unconscious, floating within the dreamspace she had been trapped in for hours, until the cool waters hit her face.

So be it, she heard a woman’s voice say.

The moment she hit the waters, she began paddling for anything to hold on to. Waves crashed around her, people struggled for breath, and regrettably, not all of the crew could swim. Veatrix saw the ship they were riding on sink sadly into the ocean, a beauty capsized by the unfortunate storm. As she looked around for Llewelyn and Lacey, she saw the very faint outline of a city in the far distance. The sky was dark and cloudy, the breeze was icy cold and the waters pushed her to and fro, but a small gleam of hope brightened within her.

Swimming, and using her weak, crystal clear wings as extra paddles, she tried to make her way towards the silhouette of Radasanth city, desperate for land and shelter. Veatrix’s golden blonde hair stuck to her face like glue, hindering her vision, but not her desperation. Knocked over by a large piece of wood, the waves seemed to be battling against them, Veatrix fainted. The last thing she saw was Lacey and Llewelyn calling out to her as they lay, stomach down, on what was a table.

“Llewelyn… Lacey…”

[Veatrix]

Tell me what you want.

I want power.

Are you sure? You might not be able to handle-

No, I want power.

So be it.

…………………………………………………………….

Veatrix shot up from her sleep, finding herself lying comfortably on a sandy beach, populated by early morning gulls and little crabs shimmying along. The sun was shining beautifully and the ocean sounded wonderful its waves crashing calmly on the beach. Random bits of garbage decorated the seashore with unsanitary hominess, like the beach was a very lived-in kind of place. In front of her spanned the Radasanth sea, where their ship sank in the night’s storm. Contrary to the night’s troublesome journey, it seemed that Veatrix had made it to Radasanth. Looking behind her, she saw the city towering over her like a giant, towers and houses and Thayne knows what else, looking over her sopping wet clothes.

Her small pack was miraculously tied around her waist, where her water satchel and magical Tome of Lestrange lay. The book was curiously dry – the magic in the book probably protected it from the waters. Strange things, spell books. Her steel sword, Gainsborough, lay abandoned somewhere beside her in the sand, partially buried under the wet ground. All her clothes were wet, and sand stuck to her, but everything seemed intact. The glimmering crystal clear wings, ones that had grown when they first got on to the ship, flapped wondrously.

Until she remembered Lacey and Llewelyn.

She searched the beach for any sign of the two, as the last time she saw them, they were on the remains of a broken table, hands reaching out for her desperately. Her silver-framed eyes darted to and fro, looking for two bodies, until she saw the table they were clinging on, shattered near some jagged rocks facing the ocean. Fearing the worst, Veatrix stood up, clumsily as water danced inside her head, and ran to the table.

There she found Lacey and Llewelyn, both sprawled out on the sand like dead animals, only neither of them were dead. Both of them had steady chest movements, and looked alright. No blood or obvious broken bones. It seemed like they had all come out of that situation relatively unscathed. Remembering the dream dimension she visited in her sleep, Veatrix took one last look at the two of them.

“Bye, guys.”

Whispering her farewells, Veatrix quickly made her way into the city, hoping she would get lost in the shuffle of the people before the Johns found her. Stepping over garbage and shooing away the birds that tentatively approached her, she walked off the beach, drenched and weary-looking, but very much alive. They needed a normal life, she wouldn’t be able to provide that. All she offered was danger. Her life was a picture of danger. The woman’s voice promised they would be safe, and Veatrix was going to take her at her word. After all, she was some sort of holy being, not having an actual physical body.

“Time to look for power.”

((SPOILS: More courage and power-hungriness in her personality. Full control of her wings. Any other spoils the judges want to grant me.))

[Breaker]

Pride
Quest Judgement

What a delicious paradox you have presented me with; requesting little comments but harsh criticism. Well I'll do my best :p

As I've told you before, you're a good writer and your writing is enjoyable. However, there's a quite a few things that still need to be tweaked to really optimize the final product.

STORY

Continuity ~ 5.5/10. You made mention of the prior events, as well as future plans, and did a decent job of incorporating the prior events into the storyline. Just the same, this thread felt almost like a vignette, a standalone story set adrift between Radasanth and Scara Brae, so to speak. Honestly, the story didn't suffer much because of this, but you did leave quite a lot in the dark, and your score here reflects that.

Setting ~ 6/10. There was some good stuff in the setting, but for the most part it was just too repetitive and one dimensional. You left so much unexplored with the storm and how it effected the ship, the crew, the NPCs and all that, but you did a good job at working the void, and I commend you for that.

Pacing ~ 4/10. Too much repetition. There is a time and a place to repeat things in literature, and did this, then repeated it again and again and again. Your mentions of Veatrix being naked in the darkness seemed rather pointless, you referred to Llewelyn as being 'fatherly' so many times I lost count, and again, the setting was very static. What you needed was to give the storm a little more growth (i.e. it should have started smaller and developed to match Veatrix's inner peril). I think you were trying to do that, but pathetic fallacy isn't something that's easy to get right the first time. Don't lose hope, heh. Rome wasn't burnt in a day ;)

CHARACTER

Dialogue ~ 4/10. This would have been a five, because for the most part the dialogue was in character and served to advance the plot, without being spectacular. However, I dropped it to a four because of the back-and-forth at the end of post #4. The last few lines between father and son were so unecessary I found myself staring, wondering why you had written them. I think a little more careful editing could have remedied this.

Action ~ 5/10. There wasn't a whole lot of action, and again, you missed some big oppurunities with the storm. The devil is in the details, or rather, in this case, good writing is in the details. If you had added a few thoughtful details about the storm and the ship rather than just generalizing it so much, there oculd have been much more action. For example, the Captain or one of the crew would have made an ideal NPC for this thread, someone on deck who's getting a first hand faceful of seaspray. Still, Llewelyn and Lacey were played well, so I feel like you deserve a balanced score here.

Persona ~ 6/10. Pretty much solid throughout, but again without anything especially dazzling. I liked how you changed Veatrix, but it could have been done better, again with a little more attention to detail. Just the same, you're getting a good handle on this character.

WRITING STYLE

Technique ~ 7/10. I awarded you an extra half point or so here for effort. You managed to fit quite a few literary devices in, and some of them were great. On the other hand, some of them were a little awkward, and you tend to overuse simile. Don't be afraid to take out the 'like' and make it a direct comparison, if it works. I think some careful editing would show you where this is needed, and you'd probably catch the awkward ones that way too. Still, I appreciate the show of effort, and your technique is really improving. Good job.

Mechanics ~ 6.5/10. There were a few general errors per post that proper proofreading probably would have caught, but nothing too huge. My main concern is the rampant use of passive voice and a few other weak writing elements. If you want to work extensively on this, please contact me on IM or PM. This is some of the stuff that I think could really boost your writing to the next level, and I'm going to continue this in clarity because it's about a lot of the same things.

Clarity ~ 6/10. Here's the thing; I think most of the posts in this thread could have been three quarters or half as long as they were, and it wouldn't have taken anything away from the story. In fact, it would have added alot, because with better brevity everything is more compelling. At times you phrase your sentences correctly, but at other times you don't. When you have "was" or "were" or "began to" right before or a couple words before the sentence's main verb, consider rearranging to get rid of the unecessary thickeners. Also, in the future, if you can't find new things to write about just end the post. Quantity is not equivalent to quality, and if there is more of the former than the latter, things can get boring. However, it's a testament to your writing ability that despite all the unecessary text I still found this a pretty interesting read. Kudos.

MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 6/10.

TOTAL ~ 56/100. I think this is a little lower than what you're used to scoring, but don't let that discourage you. Despite the end result, there are elements of your writing that have evolved since the last quest of yours I judged. In a way, this puts the weaker elements of your writing front and centre, which is good because that means you'll improve faster.

EXP and GP Rewards

Veatrix receives 1145 EXP and 125 GP

Other Rewards

Veatrix's requested spoils are all granted. However, the specifics of exactly what 'full control' of her wings entails will be determined by you and the RoG mod who handles your next profile. Good timing, since it looks like you're about to level up.

[Zook Murnig]

EXP/GP ADDED!

VEATRIX LEVELS UP!