The morning rays infiltrated through drawn curtains into the room, illuminating a scene of disheveled mess. Bottles of booze, clothes lazed about, and empty boxes of food were strewn about the place. In the shadows created by the light, a figure could be seen laid out on the bed. She was covered by the blankets, only white hair and pointy ears exposed to the world. A twitch, and the sheets shuffled about. Soon with a groan the woman underneath would rise groggily up. Memories of last night echoed in her head, booze rushing, a hungering she had never felt, and a laugh? She got up, only in a simple white undershirt as she made her way to the room’s bathroom.
As she splashed water on her face, memories continued to flow back to her. She was in a hotel room in Talonia. On the last day of her vacation before returning to guild business, she had decided to…indulge herself. Though it wasn’t as good as she wanted, tried as she might she could not compel herself to be social. There was too much of an alienating feel to do so, as if she did not belong. She sighed at the thought, was it because she was a part of the Plumed Serpent? No, even there she still felt like she did not belong. Of course, that was likely because she had not attempted to speak with them. How could she? They were all monsters in one form or another, hell a ace even massacred an entire city. But she needed that power, or at least to start with it. [i[Why, though?[/i]
She left the mirror, tired of seeing the woman she had become. Even though she criticized her guild mates, she was guilty of the same things. Maybe not to the same extent, but she was aware of the sproutlings growing on her path, they would lead to the same places they had before. Where have I gone? She began to get dressed, ready to enjoy her last day here before a return to the shadows.
The afternoon(I slept that long???) sun glared down as Gladiia walked down the street. Not aiming for anywhere in particular, she let herself wander up and down the streets. Her eyes caught lovely dresses in display windows, toys on shelves reaching the outside and tables sitting people enjoying lunches. She gave a small smile at it all, and for a moment wondered about what dinners she could attend. She thought of moonlight rendezvous at lake sides, a high up candle lit dinner, maybe even a small roast around a campfire. She smirked at that, who wears a dress to a campfire meal? Then again who drank fermented seaweed, who enjoyed the blood-. Gladiia stopped herself, a sense of disgust washed over her though she could not place it. Suddenly feeling rather exposed, she would duck into a nearby pawn shop, a bell announcing her entrance.
The inside was cooler than out in the sun, Gladiia felt a chill from the sudden temperature change. The inside didn’t help much either, the contents of the shop was an entirely different style. While most of Talonia was based on eastern culture and architecture, the inside of this shop was dark with a gothic style. Older style statues and porcelain could be seen around, stylish suits with a fair amount of dust on them with victorian style dresses next to them. And to Gladiia it was all…familiar. Something in her head told her to leave, to go try again and make some friends on the party scene here. She ignored, instead heading deeper into the pawn shop. It seemed to stretch far longer than what the outside would suggest. Dolls, old equipment both farm and soldier littered the shelves as she went closer. Soon even that gave away to books, old leather and parchment filled the air that her nose could pick up, their aged covers visible to all for see.
She was about to call out for a shop owner when she spotted someone sitting in a chair at where two of the shelves met further ahead. “Oh, are you by chance the owner of the…” She trailed off as she got closer to the figure, now seeing it for its true nature. It was a doll, pale porcelain dressed in a Victorian outfit, yellow eyes staring vacantly. Gladiia wasn’t bothered by dolls, so that’s not what stopped her in her tracks, but the clothes it wore. She got closer to examine them; The folds and fabric were finely stitched together, designs of flowers were plain to see and hidden at the same time. No not finely, each stitch was crafted too well, almost to the point of obsession. She looked up to the doll’s face and noticed something she had not before. Lifting the bonnet and moving the doll’s head to the left, she angled it to a degree where she saw a brooch. She knew it well, remembering that she had recovered it from a building surrounded by a flower field. It wasn’t just a building though, it was-
“Ah! Please do not touch the doll.” The sudden voice caused gladiia to snap in the direction of the source, eyes locked on a red hooded figure. It, he, reached out with a trembling hand at her as he spoke. “The doll is very delicate, please don’t touch it unless you intend to buy it.” “How much?!” Gladiia asked a little too impatient, only then realizing that her breathing was coming in quickly. “Oh? Please let's negotiate at the front of the shop.” the storekeeper responded, and led her away from the doll.
—--------------------------------------------------------
The hotel room that Gladiia had rented out for the night was cleaned up from the morning’s mess. Yet in the setting sun of the evening, the rays painted ominous shadows on its walls. One of the rays would illuminate the backside of Gladiia’s head, as she sat in front of the doll from the pawn shop. She placed the doll sitting in a chair, putting great care in ensuring that it was comfortable. She could not place why though, she knew in her head that it was a porcelain doll and nothing more. Yet her gut told her to look further, to search for a hidden truth in the blank expression. Despite a couple of hours staring at it, its truth was not revealed. A sudden pinch in her leg caused her to stand up, pain from sitting as long as she did. She gave the doll one last look before retreating away from it to the balcony.
She had to be crazy, surely the doll was nothing to her. Wasn’t even worth the price tag, as she now had little jewels left to her name. Barely enough to afford a meal out here in fact. She contemplated looking at some restaurants below, but had already stolen a glance in the mirror. She looked disheveled, hair out of place, redder eyes than normal, even her clothes looked more wrinkled from before. Even if she didn’t look the way she did, she still didn’t want to leave the room. She had to know the truth behind the doll, and why it struck such a chord within her! She sighed, maybe this was stupid. It was a doll after all! She rubbed her eyes as she convinced herself to forget about it. That tomorrow she will return it. As she was going to the bathroom to prepare for bed tonight she despised how irritated her eyes had become. Damnable things, now that she thought about it, she probably didn’t have the right eyes for the issue.
Eyes…she stopped before crossing the doorway, an epiphany in her head. What if she didn’t have enough eyes to look at the issue. Or maybe she was looking at the wrong eyes. Such a peculiar thought, but it stuck in fast as a splinter, and she slowly turned her head towards the doll’s eyes. The doll was unchanged, still looking ahead into the setting sun. Gladiia cautiously walked over to it, and when she got close enough she gently began running her hands through its hair. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but soon her hands found a point of interest. Buried in the hair was an indent. Prying her fingers gently into it, she slowly lifted it to reveal a latch. It was how the hair stayed put on the doll’s head, Gladiia removed the white wig gently. Before her was now the darkness, all Gladiia had to do was lift the latch a bit more to expose whatever hid in it to the light.
She only hesitated for a moment, then slowly lifted it. That’s when she caught sight of it. She let the latch drop quickly and backed away, tripping and falling to the floor. She didn’t stop though, soon she began crawling quickly to her bed where she quickly bundled herself up. She was breathing hard, the feeling of fear for the first time in a long time overwhelmed her senses. She couldn’t slow her breath, soon she felt hot tears down her cheeks as she began to utter noises. Confusion, fear, sadness, all applicable to what she released as she tried to bury herself in the covers, hiding away from the still sitting doll.
She didn’t know when she fell asleep, perhaps in her panic and hysterics she passed out. All she knew was that she was dreaming, and for a dream it felt extremely lucid. This was not an unfamiliar place to her though. The black void in all directions was one she knew before, felt before rather. But Gladiia did not feel at ease, something was in the blackness. Like a shark patrolling the depths around unsuspecting prey, she felt something watching her. Suddenly there were two, three, multiples of them. She was surrounded by her hidden assailants, and she couldn’t do anything. She just…had to give up. The presence before her was far more powerful than anything she had felt in earthland, even feeling that she had looked on its face before and cowered. What point was there?
Then she felt them move, around at first, then away. She was confused by their absence, what made them move? “Why are you back here?” A voice asked from the darkness. Gladiia was caught off guard by it, but slowly eased. The woman’s voice was soothing and familiar, and it relaxed Gladiia despite her mind telling her not to. “I don’t know where here is. Where am I?” She asked aloud.
“A place you were bound to, one that, when your duty was done, sought release from. Yet you now are back here. Why?”
“I…need to know what my duty was. I need my memories! I need to know why I fear what lies where I cannot see!” Gladiia pleaded.
“Are you sure? You will face the same hunt again. Perhaps in a different land, but the blood will bring the same tragedy.”
“If it brings me closer to the truth, then yes!”
Silence followed Gladiia’s response as she waited in silence. Then she suddenly felt solid ground underneath her. Surprised by it, she slowly found her footing before standing. Then her eyes caught it, a speck of light. She slowly followed it, walking faster and faster as the light grew, before she began running to it. She then stopped herself as she could see what it was now. A door, two doors. Old wood and decorations of a gothic style was plain to see in the light that emanated from the gaps. She without hesitation opened both doors. The source of the light was revealed to her, a full moon illuminated the night around her. White mists eerily similar to her own steam seem to blanket the distant horizon, obscuring any land there. Before her laid a cobblestone path, stacked rocks formed little walls for gardens of sunflowers. Not sunflowers, their petals were white, not yellow. She stepped forward, a familiarity in the steps as she continued down the path, only sparing a look back to see the door she entered was gone.
She soon came across a building. Black exterior of an old fashioned style, she knew it. She had found the workshop, the hunter’s workshop. Continuing down the path, she stopped as she saw a figure standing, seeming to wait for her. The dress she wore looked well crafted, almost obsessively so. The colors and flower designs accented the porcelain white of her skin, her eyes unblinking but showed the spark of life. Gladiia walked closer until a few meters away, and the woman, no, the doll, bowed in greeting.
“Welcome home, good hunter.”
—------------------------------------------------------
“My my my! You boys are letting her run circles around you!” The demoness laughed out. Below her in an arena-like area were three demons. Two wielded long bone greatswords in each hand, the other a savage creature with long talons. Gladiia was indeed proving the demoness, Agrat’s, statement true. She was striking and dashing at them as they swung viciously outward, only hitting wind. One of their strikes found true on her, and delivered a vicious downward strike. However it was no victorious strike, Gladiia instead of retreating suddenly swung in a flurry of blows, blood spilling everywhere as it fell. She stood over it as the victor, no trace of wounds on her even though she was coated in blood. The blade in her right hand dripped and pooled blood from the demon, though it could barely be called that. A cleaver was more like it, with a saw tooth edge. It also made quick work of the second demon, with a little aid from the wind of course.
The taloned demon was left and it was moving fast. Tracking his movements, she waited until it made it’s lunging strike. She knew already from experience that she would be able to dodge or parry out of the way. So instead she fired a shot with the rather large pistol in her hand. The shot sounded more like a cannon than a gun, stunning the creature. Taking advantage, she suddenly dove in, her eyes growing red as she found her spot. Her blade disappeared briefly as her hand dove deep into the demon’s flesh without issue, grabbing something as she pulled it out of its torso. Blood geysered out of the wound as the creature was flung back, it’s body spasmed before falling limp. Gladiia would confirm all three demon’s deaths before letting the weapons drop, disappearing into a white poof of smoke.
“My compliments Gladiia~” Agrat said while she floated down to the ground. Her heels ensured her feet stayed out of the spilled blood on the ground as she approached Gladiia. “Most mages need a few months to grasp both the concept of requip and the flow of battle with their equipment. Yet here you are in a month already utilizing it so wonderfully! Tell me, are you sure you have never heard of Requip before?” Gladiia, wiping blood off of her face, responded simply and politely, “No ma’am, perhaps I take to it well due to my history with weapons.”
“Yes…which I should ask, where did you learn to maneuver so finely around these creatures?”
“A different land.”
“Oh Gladiia, surely you don’t have to hide where you learned? After all, the creatures there may prove useful for us as well! Don’t you want that for the guild?”
“I cannot answer that question Ma’am. Now, I assume my performance here has proven I have learned what I needed for Requip magic?”
Agrat frowned slightly at the deflection, but nodded. Gladiia gave a deep bow, “Thank you again for teaching me the concept of Requip magic madam Agrat. Now if you will excuse me, I will take my leave.” And with that she walked off into a tunnel away from the bloodshed. Agrat only sighed, despite the deflection, Agrat had a feeling it wasn’t out of maliciousness. Well she had other matters to worry about anyways. “Come out imps! I want this arena spotless yesterday!”
WC: 2697
As she splashed water on her face, memories continued to flow back to her. She was in a hotel room in Talonia. On the last day of her vacation before returning to guild business, she had decided to…indulge herself. Though it wasn’t as good as she wanted, tried as she might she could not compel herself to be social. There was too much of an alienating feel to do so, as if she did not belong. She sighed at the thought, was it because she was a part of the Plumed Serpent? No, even there she still felt like she did not belong. Of course, that was likely because she had not attempted to speak with them. How could she? They were all monsters in one form or another, hell a ace even massacred an entire city. But she needed that power, or at least to start with it. [i[Why, though?[/i]
She left the mirror, tired of seeing the woman she had become. Even though she criticized her guild mates, she was guilty of the same things. Maybe not to the same extent, but she was aware of the sproutlings growing on her path, they would lead to the same places they had before. Where have I gone? She began to get dressed, ready to enjoy her last day here before a return to the shadows.
The afternoon(I slept that long???) sun glared down as Gladiia walked down the street. Not aiming for anywhere in particular, she let herself wander up and down the streets. Her eyes caught lovely dresses in display windows, toys on shelves reaching the outside and tables sitting people enjoying lunches. She gave a small smile at it all, and for a moment wondered about what dinners she could attend. She thought of moonlight rendezvous at lake sides, a high up candle lit dinner, maybe even a small roast around a campfire. She smirked at that, who wears a dress to a campfire meal? Then again who drank fermented seaweed, who enjoyed the blood-. Gladiia stopped herself, a sense of disgust washed over her though she could not place it. Suddenly feeling rather exposed, she would duck into a nearby pawn shop, a bell announcing her entrance.
The inside was cooler than out in the sun, Gladiia felt a chill from the sudden temperature change. The inside didn’t help much either, the contents of the shop was an entirely different style. While most of Talonia was based on eastern culture and architecture, the inside of this shop was dark with a gothic style. Older style statues and porcelain could be seen around, stylish suits with a fair amount of dust on them with victorian style dresses next to them. And to Gladiia it was all…familiar. Something in her head told her to leave, to go try again and make some friends on the party scene here. She ignored, instead heading deeper into the pawn shop. It seemed to stretch far longer than what the outside would suggest. Dolls, old equipment both farm and soldier littered the shelves as she went closer. Soon even that gave away to books, old leather and parchment filled the air that her nose could pick up, their aged covers visible to all for see.
She was about to call out for a shop owner when she spotted someone sitting in a chair at where two of the shelves met further ahead. “Oh, are you by chance the owner of the…” She trailed off as she got closer to the figure, now seeing it for its true nature. It was a doll, pale porcelain dressed in a Victorian outfit, yellow eyes staring vacantly. Gladiia wasn’t bothered by dolls, so that’s not what stopped her in her tracks, but the clothes it wore. She got closer to examine them; The folds and fabric were finely stitched together, designs of flowers were plain to see and hidden at the same time. No not finely, each stitch was crafted too well, almost to the point of obsession. She looked up to the doll’s face and noticed something she had not before. Lifting the bonnet and moving the doll’s head to the left, she angled it to a degree where she saw a brooch. She knew it well, remembering that she had recovered it from a building surrounded by a flower field. It wasn’t just a building though, it was-
“Ah! Please do not touch the doll.” The sudden voice caused gladiia to snap in the direction of the source, eyes locked on a red hooded figure. It, he, reached out with a trembling hand at her as he spoke. “The doll is very delicate, please don’t touch it unless you intend to buy it.” “How much?!” Gladiia asked a little too impatient, only then realizing that her breathing was coming in quickly. “Oh? Please let's negotiate at the front of the shop.” the storekeeper responded, and led her away from the doll.
—--------------------------------------------------------
The hotel room that Gladiia had rented out for the night was cleaned up from the morning’s mess. Yet in the setting sun of the evening, the rays painted ominous shadows on its walls. One of the rays would illuminate the backside of Gladiia’s head, as she sat in front of the doll from the pawn shop. She placed the doll sitting in a chair, putting great care in ensuring that it was comfortable. She could not place why though, she knew in her head that it was a porcelain doll and nothing more. Yet her gut told her to look further, to search for a hidden truth in the blank expression. Despite a couple of hours staring at it, its truth was not revealed. A sudden pinch in her leg caused her to stand up, pain from sitting as long as she did. She gave the doll one last look before retreating away from it to the balcony.
She had to be crazy, surely the doll was nothing to her. Wasn’t even worth the price tag, as she now had little jewels left to her name. Barely enough to afford a meal out here in fact. She contemplated looking at some restaurants below, but had already stolen a glance in the mirror. She looked disheveled, hair out of place, redder eyes than normal, even her clothes looked more wrinkled from before. Even if she didn’t look the way she did, she still didn’t want to leave the room. She had to know the truth behind the doll, and why it struck such a chord within her! She sighed, maybe this was stupid. It was a doll after all! She rubbed her eyes as she convinced herself to forget about it. That tomorrow she will return it. As she was going to the bathroom to prepare for bed tonight she despised how irritated her eyes had become. Damnable things, now that she thought about it, she probably didn’t have the right eyes for the issue.
Eyes…she stopped before crossing the doorway, an epiphany in her head. What if she didn’t have enough eyes to look at the issue. Or maybe she was looking at the wrong eyes. Such a peculiar thought, but it stuck in fast as a splinter, and she slowly turned her head towards the doll’s eyes. The doll was unchanged, still looking ahead into the setting sun. Gladiia cautiously walked over to it, and when she got close enough she gently began running her hands through its hair. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but soon her hands found a point of interest. Buried in the hair was an indent. Prying her fingers gently into it, she slowly lifted it to reveal a latch. It was how the hair stayed put on the doll’s head, Gladiia removed the white wig gently. Before her was now the darkness, all Gladiia had to do was lift the latch a bit more to expose whatever hid in it to the light.
She only hesitated for a moment, then slowly lifted it. That’s when she caught sight of it. She let the latch drop quickly and backed away, tripping and falling to the floor. She didn’t stop though, soon she began crawling quickly to her bed where she quickly bundled herself up. She was breathing hard, the feeling of fear for the first time in a long time overwhelmed her senses. She couldn’t slow her breath, soon she felt hot tears down her cheeks as she began to utter noises. Confusion, fear, sadness, all applicable to what she released as she tried to bury herself in the covers, hiding away from the still sitting doll.
She didn’t know when she fell asleep, perhaps in her panic and hysterics she passed out. All she knew was that she was dreaming, and for a dream it felt extremely lucid. This was not an unfamiliar place to her though. The black void in all directions was one she knew before, felt before rather. But Gladiia did not feel at ease, something was in the blackness. Like a shark patrolling the depths around unsuspecting prey, she felt something watching her. Suddenly there were two, three, multiples of them. She was surrounded by her hidden assailants, and she couldn’t do anything. She just…had to give up. The presence before her was far more powerful than anything she had felt in earthland, even feeling that she had looked on its face before and cowered. What point was there?
Then she felt them move, around at first, then away. She was confused by their absence, what made them move? “Why are you back here?” A voice asked from the darkness. Gladiia was caught off guard by it, but slowly eased. The woman’s voice was soothing and familiar, and it relaxed Gladiia despite her mind telling her not to. “I don’t know where here is. Where am I?” She asked aloud.
“A place you were bound to, one that, when your duty was done, sought release from. Yet you now are back here. Why?”
“I…need to know what my duty was. I need my memories! I need to know why I fear what lies where I cannot see!” Gladiia pleaded.
“Are you sure? You will face the same hunt again. Perhaps in a different land, but the blood will bring the same tragedy.”
“If it brings me closer to the truth, then yes!”
Silence followed Gladiia’s response as she waited in silence. Then she suddenly felt solid ground underneath her. Surprised by it, she slowly found her footing before standing. Then her eyes caught it, a speck of light. She slowly followed it, walking faster and faster as the light grew, before she began running to it. She then stopped herself as she could see what it was now. A door, two doors. Old wood and decorations of a gothic style was plain to see in the light that emanated from the gaps. She without hesitation opened both doors. The source of the light was revealed to her, a full moon illuminated the night around her. White mists eerily similar to her own steam seem to blanket the distant horizon, obscuring any land there. Before her laid a cobblestone path, stacked rocks formed little walls for gardens of sunflowers. Not sunflowers, their petals were white, not yellow. She stepped forward, a familiarity in the steps as she continued down the path, only sparing a look back to see the door she entered was gone.
She soon came across a building. Black exterior of an old fashioned style, she knew it. She had found the workshop, the hunter’s workshop. Continuing down the path, she stopped as she saw a figure standing, seeming to wait for her. The dress she wore looked well crafted, almost obsessively so. The colors and flower designs accented the porcelain white of her skin, her eyes unblinking but showed the spark of life. Gladiia walked closer until a few meters away, and the woman, no, the doll, bowed in greeting.
“Welcome home, good hunter.”
—------------------------------------------------------
“My my my! You boys are letting her run circles around you!” The demoness laughed out. Below her in an arena-like area were three demons. Two wielded long bone greatswords in each hand, the other a savage creature with long talons. Gladiia was indeed proving the demoness, Agrat’s, statement true. She was striking and dashing at them as they swung viciously outward, only hitting wind. One of their strikes found true on her, and delivered a vicious downward strike. However it was no victorious strike, Gladiia instead of retreating suddenly swung in a flurry of blows, blood spilling everywhere as it fell. She stood over it as the victor, no trace of wounds on her even though she was coated in blood. The blade in her right hand dripped and pooled blood from the demon, though it could barely be called that. A cleaver was more like it, with a saw tooth edge. It also made quick work of the second demon, with a little aid from the wind of course.
The taloned demon was left and it was moving fast. Tracking his movements, she waited until it made it’s lunging strike. She knew already from experience that she would be able to dodge or parry out of the way. So instead she fired a shot with the rather large pistol in her hand. The shot sounded more like a cannon than a gun, stunning the creature. Taking advantage, she suddenly dove in, her eyes growing red as she found her spot. Her blade disappeared briefly as her hand dove deep into the demon’s flesh without issue, grabbing something as she pulled it out of its torso. Blood geysered out of the wound as the creature was flung back, it’s body spasmed before falling limp. Gladiia would confirm all three demon’s deaths before letting the weapons drop, disappearing into a white poof of smoke.
“My compliments Gladiia~” Agrat said while she floated down to the ground. Her heels ensured her feet stayed out of the spilled blood on the ground as she approached Gladiia. “Most mages need a few months to grasp both the concept of requip and the flow of battle with their equipment. Yet here you are in a month already utilizing it so wonderfully! Tell me, are you sure you have never heard of Requip before?” Gladiia, wiping blood off of her face, responded simply and politely, “No ma’am, perhaps I take to it well due to my history with weapons.”
“Yes…which I should ask, where did you learn to maneuver so finely around these creatures?”
“A different land.”
“Oh Gladiia, surely you don’t have to hide where you learned? After all, the creatures there may prove useful for us as well! Don’t you want that for the guild?”
“I cannot answer that question Ma’am. Now, I assume my performance here has proven I have learned what I needed for Requip magic?”
Agrat frowned slightly at the deflection, but nodded. Gladiia gave a deep bow, “Thank you again for teaching me the concept of Requip magic madam Agrat. Now if you will excuse me, I will take my leave.” And with that she walked off into a tunnel away from the bloodshed. Agrat only sighed, despite the deflection, Agrat had a feeling it wasn’t out of maliciousness. Well she had other matters to worry about anyways. “Come out imps! I want this arena spotless yesterday!”
WC: 2697
