Post by Avaritia on Dec 14, 2006 20:22:40 GMT -5
To many, it was not hard to tell that Elanice Walden was a fragile girl. She was sixteen, lanky, and pale. Had a father, a step-mother, and two rough step-brothers. She attended school as any normal girl her age would and attempted to do her best—perhaps it was never really her best, but she gave it at least some sort of effort. She didn't have any friends, didn't know how to make them anymore. Perhaps some time before this point, there was someone she was close to, and perhaps they were close to her, as well. Now, though, now they had left, she being left alone once more. It was something she was used to, yes, but it was something she never wanted.
Something she was done with.
She'd been practically invisible at school for years since he had left, unless someone wanted to be cruel, and barely noticed at home unless there was work to be done, or someone had done something wrong—and it always seemed like she took the blame for it. What kept her going? She thought, searched through books, wrote her little fantasy stories just the same as ever...and she realized: there was nothing. The boy was never coming back, and nothing else really mattered enough to keep her here.
It was perhaps early spring. Another tiring day of school, same as always, with summer being months away, too long away, even if she had nothing to look forward to. However, today in particular, instead of just the heavy textbooks she always had to lug around (she was rather certain they were destroying her back), and the bags of notebooks and journals, a small bottle whose contents audibly crashed around even as she stepped through the door found its way nestled into her bookbag. She paused, turned to lock the door, and after taking a moment to assure herself that no one else was home yet, her slender hands dove into the bag and retrieved the container of over-the-counter painkillers. A twisted smile came to her thin lips, one of anticipated amusement, and one of grief.
With a limp, she made her way down the carpeted hallway, back to her room, and locked the door once inside. She nonchalantly placed the pills down on to a table, pulled up a chair, and took her seat. Minutes passed as she stared down the bottle, smiling and holding back something or other. Maybe it was second thoughts. No, there was no time for that now. It had to be done, it should be done. Quickly, she grabbed at the bottle, twisted the lid off, and threw it at the floor. She peered into the container and examined the little pills. “You really are a painkiller, aren't you?” she mumbled sweetly. Her fingers slid into the bottle, grabbed one pill, and she placed it carefully on to her tongue. A conveniently placed bottle of water sat by the window. She took it, took a little sip, and swallowed.
One pill down. The rest of the bottle to go.
Her fingers slid in again, grabbed at another, but for some reason, it wouldn't come out. She frowned and furrowed her brow...when she could hear something like a whirring noise behind her. The pills didn't start working this fast, did they? She felt a little light-headed. Why didn't the pills work so fast when she had a cramp? It was remarkable how fast they were working now, though.
But then she felt something grab on to her arm. No one was home yet! How could that be? She hesitantly looked over her shoulder to find a space of emptiness in the corner. Not just “empty” as in seeing a wall or the floor, but “empty” as in there was nothing there—no wall, no floor, not anything. The grip around her wrist tightened. “What's going on?” she cried to the nothing. It gave a little tug. “No! I have something to do,” she returned. Another tug, harder. The pill bottle dropped out of her hand, falling to the floor and noisily spilling its contents. “What do you want?” It pulled now, dragging her over the objects that had mysteriously fallen to the floor. She cried out and attempted to free herself, but to no avail. This thing was resolute.
Suddenly, though...suddenly she felt a calm. The thing let go, and of her own will now, as though in a trance, approached the nothing. She put her hand forward, and felt it be embraced. Carefully, she stepped closer, and suddenly, there was nothing.
Little light found its way here, save for a small opening behind her. She stopped to peer through it—it was her room, with the pills still on the floor. “What is this place?” she whispered to no one in particular. No one was here. This place was odd, confusing...and yet there was something almost comforting about it. She embraced the blackness as it embraced her, and somehow she still hoped for something or someone to be out there. “Hello?” she called. Nothing. “Where am I?”
An age-old cough responded, seeming to be disembodied. A raspy voice, one that was somewhat young and old at the same time, spoke up. “You are in oblivia.”
“Oblivia?” she echoed.
“...Yes. I sought sanctuary here long ago, long before you were born, or your parents born, and surely many of your other generations. This is a world in between worlds. We heard your silent cries for sanctuary, girl. Perhaps we may offer it. But first, tell me, what is your name?”
“I am Elanice Walden—at least, I was. If you don't mind my asking, who are you?”
“I...I am Lantio,” it replied hesitantly, almost as though it was disgraced by its own name.
“It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lantio,” she answered reassuringly. Someone who paid full attention to her again...it was nice.
“No, my lady, the pleasure is all mine,” it paused and she smiled, flattered. “Although, I've something else t ask of you—would you perhaps mind my asking...may I call you Avaritia?”
She thought for a moment. Why call her something other than her given name? It was a bit strange, but there was something about the name that struck a very pleasant chord. It felt like power as she parroted, “Avaritia... It sounds nice, but why?”
She could almost hear a soft chuckle from something other than the voice, and another monotoned, detached voice that sounded like two or more voices speaking at once responded, “You sought greed, Lady Avaritia; you nearly got what you would have wanted, what you thought you would have wanted, had we not interfered. Perhaps you may think it was wrong of us, but you are of value to us, to this world, and we would not allow you to go to waste.”
“We will explain in time,” Lantio interrupted, “but for now, I'm afraid I'm too drained to do so. Allow me to rest, and perhaps in the meantime,” the darkness lifted slowly, revealing a world below; one of so many colours, the sort she'd only thought of in her stories, “you would decide whether or not you wish to remain here?” She suddenly found herself bare in the grass of a rich forest. But there was no fear or discomfort—it was natural, somehow. The black was gone, giving way now to simply a midday sky. There was silence now, and she reveled in it as her mind finally began to wrap around this new world.
What felt like hours and minutes at the same time passed, and she fell asleep, and waking up to find herself in lavish clothing she'd always imagined a woman in her stories as wearing. Her hair had grown considerably and turned black. It was full and soft, a beauty. A man wrapped in bandages and shrouded by cloaks appeared to her then. She felt that he was Lantio, and indeed he was. She informed him that she would indeed like to stay in this place that felt like a dream come true, and in time Lantio, the fallen wizard as he called himself, seemed to take her on as something of an apprentice. He taught her something more than a fraction of his ancient magicks, although she could tell there were things he hid. He left eventually to still no one quite knows where. He became less than a memory to many Nilleans again. He became a simple legend or myth, except to perhaps a few. Lady Avaritia took rule of Nillea, and became the first of the seven Monarchs of our civilization.
Long Live Lady Avaritia, Long Live the Monarchs, and Long Live Nillea!
Something she was done with.
She'd been practically invisible at school for years since he had left, unless someone wanted to be cruel, and barely noticed at home unless there was work to be done, or someone had done something wrong—and it always seemed like she took the blame for it. What kept her going? She thought, searched through books, wrote her little fantasy stories just the same as ever...and she realized: there was nothing. The boy was never coming back, and nothing else really mattered enough to keep her here.
It was perhaps early spring. Another tiring day of school, same as always, with summer being months away, too long away, even if she had nothing to look forward to. However, today in particular, instead of just the heavy textbooks she always had to lug around (she was rather certain they were destroying her back), and the bags of notebooks and journals, a small bottle whose contents audibly crashed around even as she stepped through the door found its way nestled into her bookbag. She paused, turned to lock the door, and after taking a moment to assure herself that no one else was home yet, her slender hands dove into the bag and retrieved the container of over-the-counter painkillers. A twisted smile came to her thin lips, one of anticipated amusement, and one of grief.
With a limp, she made her way down the carpeted hallway, back to her room, and locked the door once inside. She nonchalantly placed the pills down on to a table, pulled up a chair, and took her seat. Minutes passed as she stared down the bottle, smiling and holding back something or other. Maybe it was second thoughts. No, there was no time for that now. It had to be done, it should be done. Quickly, she grabbed at the bottle, twisted the lid off, and threw it at the floor. She peered into the container and examined the little pills. “You really are a painkiller, aren't you?” she mumbled sweetly. Her fingers slid into the bottle, grabbed one pill, and she placed it carefully on to her tongue. A conveniently placed bottle of water sat by the window. She took it, took a little sip, and swallowed.
One pill down. The rest of the bottle to go.
Her fingers slid in again, grabbed at another, but for some reason, it wouldn't come out. She frowned and furrowed her brow...when she could hear something like a whirring noise behind her. The pills didn't start working this fast, did they? She felt a little light-headed. Why didn't the pills work so fast when she had a cramp? It was remarkable how fast they were working now, though.
But then she felt something grab on to her arm. No one was home yet! How could that be? She hesitantly looked over her shoulder to find a space of emptiness in the corner. Not just “empty” as in seeing a wall or the floor, but “empty” as in there was nothing there—no wall, no floor, not anything. The grip around her wrist tightened. “What's going on?” she cried to the nothing. It gave a little tug. “No! I have something to do,” she returned. Another tug, harder. The pill bottle dropped out of her hand, falling to the floor and noisily spilling its contents. “What do you want?” It pulled now, dragging her over the objects that had mysteriously fallen to the floor. She cried out and attempted to free herself, but to no avail. This thing was resolute.
Suddenly, though...suddenly she felt a calm. The thing let go, and of her own will now, as though in a trance, approached the nothing. She put her hand forward, and felt it be embraced. Carefully, she stepped closer, and suddenly, there was nothing.
Little light found its way here, save for a small opening behind her. She stopped to peer through it—it was her room, with the pills still on the floor. “What is this place?” she whispered to no one in particular. No one was here. This place was odd, confusing...and yet there was something almost comforting about it. She embraced the blackness as it embraced her, and somehow she still hoped for something or someone to be out there. “Hello?” she called. Nothing. “Where am I?”
An age-old cough responded, seeming to be disembodied. A raspy voice, one that was somewhat young and old at the same time, spoke up. “You are in oblivia.”
“Oblivia?” she echoed.
“...Yes. I sought sanctuary here long ago, long before you were born, or your parents born, and surely many of your other generations. This is a world in between worlds. We heard your silent cries for sanctuary, girl. Perhaps we may offer it. But first, tell me, what is your name?”
“I am Elanice Walden—at least, I was. If you don't mind my asking, who are you?”
“I...I am Lantio,” it replied hesitantly, almost as though it was disgraced by its own name.
“It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lantio,” she answered reassuringly. Someone who paid full attention to her again...it was nice.
“No, my lady, the pleasure is all mine,” it paused and she smiled, flattered. “Although, I've something else t ask of you—would you perhaps mind my asking...may I call you Avaritia?”
She thought for a moment. Why call her something other than her given name? It was a bit strange, but there was something about the name that struck a very pleasant chord. It felt like power as she parroted, “Avaritia... It sounds nice, but why?”
She could almost hear a soft chuckle from something other than the voice, and another monotoned, detached voice that sounded like two or more voices speaking at once responded, “You sought greed, Lady Avaritia; you nearly got what you would have wanted, what you thought you would have wanted, had we not interfered. Perhaps you may think it was wrong of us, but you are of value to us, to this world, and we would not allow you to go to waste.”
“We will explain in time,” Lantio interrupted, “but for now, I'm afraid I'm too drained to do so. Allow me to rest, and perhaps in the meantime,” the darkness lifted slowly, revealing a world below; one of so many colours, the sort she'd only thought of in her stories, “you would decide whether or not you wish to remain here?” She suddenly found herself bare in the grass of a rich forest. But there was no fear or discomfort—it was natural, somehow. The black was gone, giving way now to simply a midday sky. There was silence now, and she reveled in it as her mind finally began to wrap around this new world.
What felt like hours and minutes at the same time passed, and she fell asleep, and waking up to find herself in lavish clothing she'd always imagined a woman in her stories as wearing. Her hair had grown considerably and turned black. It was full and soft, a beauty. A man wrapped in bandages and shrouded by cloaks appeared to her then. She felt that he was Lantio, and indeed he was. She informed him that she would indeed like to stay in this place that felt like a dream come true, and in time Lantio, the fallen wizard as he called himself, seemed to take her on as something of an apprentice. He taught her something more than a fraction of his ancient magicks, although she could tell there were things he hid. He left eventually to still no one quite knows where. He became less than a memory to many Nilleans again. He became a simple legend or myth, except to perhaps a few. Lady Avaritia took rule of Nillea, and became the first of the seven Monarchs of our civilization.
Long Live Lady Avaritia, Long Live the Monarchs, and Long Live Nillea!