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 more scars than skin, faemiliar | stray | wanted ad

you know if you keep this up // you'll be more scars than skin // even when you're wide awake // you're drowning in your dreams

Mar 29 2018, 02:04 AM Quote


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zoey deutch

PM // GMT-8
Sadhbh was made in the cold light of a dying hearth. Her maker had her come into the world naked and human, shivering on stone as hard as his hand. His name had been Eltaor to others, but for her he was only ever Master. He was a cruel man with quick fingers and a faster tongue, and she was his spy. He fashioned her as an owl in her other form and sent her among the trees and towers, in the night, and she cast her steel eyes upon his victims and betrayed them with her sharpened beak, filled with murderous words said against her Master. He wrapped her in silks and brushed her hair until it shone and she waited on his guests in his home. Then it was her ears hidden behind fire-brushed locks that betrayed them, it was her ears that heard more than the things that spilled from their mouths. For her Master had given her the gift of telepathy, and she knew their thoughts and their hearts.

But she also knew those of her Master.

She obeyed and obeyed and he became comfortable with her. He forgot himself as his suspicion settled further into the stone with every downcast gaze, every murmured yes. Sometimes his hand would caress, his lips would linger, and each time she told herself that this was what she hoped for, this was what she wanted. To be a comfort, at least. To be lusted after, if not loved. To be more than his tool for bewitching the gold from his guests and enemy alike. But then the soft touches stopped. She felt again the sting of the back of his hand. He sent her out more and more often, both in her wings and also in her silks. His requests became more harried, his thoughts filled with random things, with haze like thick blue smoke from a black liquid he kept in jars upon jars. She began to fear.

It was a night after guests. She came to him, her mouth shut up in a straight line, her head bowed, to betray these people's confidences, to hurt their families, to take their lives. But he did not ask for her whisperings. Instead he grabbed her by the tops of her shoulders and his lips met hers with a frenzy that stilled her hands and feet and heart. And then his thoughts burst upon her own like metal rain. She kissed him back, that night. And then, when the wine had him clutching his feathered beds, she ran.

He had meant to kill her. To replace her form that had become too familiar, too tempting, with something younger and uglier. The knowledge was enough for her to force her feet across his threshold, staggering to her knees as the Bond of Ownership attempted to claim her again, screaming in her ears. But her will to live pressed her forward. She transformed into her owl form and disappeared into the night, shaking uncontrollably. Without her Master, a form with speed and talons was her only defense. And even then...

A stray now, Sadhbh fled. Her owl form outlined against moonlit nights was a dead giveaway to those that hunted her fellow strays in the streets and woods of Allutheria, and she had no defense against them, or any Fae for that matter. So she ran to where owls were something that could be innocent, wild. She ran to Ga'leah through the portal of the Sky.

And at first, the taste of freedom was sweet and clung to her tongue, but as the years passed it soured and rotted in her mouth. The bond called out to her constantly, and the cries wore heavy upon her ears. She could not shift into her human form any longer, too removed from the magic that had made her. So she watched activites from afar, and she became more wild, falling into the form of a bird in a world where birds were animals. She began to catch herself diving after vermin and tearing into their hearts without any more thought than the feeling of hunger pounding low in her gut, where before she had abhorred the violence. But even as she distanced herself more and more from her human-self, the bond called louder and louder. The magic that ground deep in her bones and her own deep loneliness joined as one and hammered on her temples. And finally she could not stand it any longer. She decided to answer.

The first Fae she observed seemed soft and kind. A willow wisp of a girl with earth magic pouring from her fingertips. But when she chanced close enough to happen upon her thoughts, she flew away in fear. The Fae had taken more lives than she had taken lovers, though it seemed many were one and the same. And she prided herself on her kills. Called herself a black widow and laughed. So Sadhbh gathered herself and pushed on. The second Fae was no better than the first, except he marked he days with a special fondness of tormenting human minds that veered too close to him. Counted manufactured insanities instead of bodies. She had to run from him because he sensed her probing. The call of ownership had almost doomed her then. But the Fae that the mind-killer had run into had been more interesting than her, and she had been able to tear herself away. But the encounter weakened her. She was afraid again. If another call came as strongly on to her, she doubted she could resist it. And these Fae held wickedness in their hearts even for the ones they claimed to love.

They would destroy her.

Sadhbh eventually found herself in Fynnon, drawn by tales of a place where magic was soft and receding. She was afraid of the Fae in a way the humans did not frighten her. The humans saw an owl. The Fae could sense the fleeing slave. And she was too weak to resist if a siren call of bonding should be thrust upon her. But even more than that, Fynnon had been saved from the Blight. The spirits the Blight had left behind frightened her more than the bond of ownership. Their cries were caustic and relentless in her head. She could not bar them from her mind like she could ignore the thoughts of others. And they screamed. Fynnon felt like a haven without their anguish to haunt it.

In those shadowed cobblestoned streets she found some solace, perched in deep crevices within their walls that saved her from prying eyes of human and Fae alike. The bond still nagged at her, though lesser now, without the touch of Fae minds fluttering in her wake. The wildness in her heart had changed her too. The obedience did not sink deep into her soul as it once did, too twisted by the betrayal of her former Master. She had tasted the pleasure of a running freedom and it had been sweet even as it soured. Now she desired another kind of freedom. One where the magic would course through her veins again, yet where the one from whom the magic flowed gave her no collar or leash. When the bond of ownership finally began to call her in earnest, she knew exactly which being that had spawned it, and she was afraid, but ready. He was an old Fae, a very old Fae, and the impression of his thoughts -- for she dare not go too far into his mind, less he discover her -- were both cruelly indifferent and completely earnest. He felt both spurned and powerful and perhaps even... searching, as well. He was not a good man, but the call was impossible to resist. She did not believe he would hurt her -- she clung to that like a promise. Sadhbh began to tail him, carefully at first, but the call was becoming stronger, her need greater. She edged ever closer, even if she did not see it in herself.

And then they met.

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Mar 29 2018, 10:54 PM Quote

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