The TwiceBorn

Shadow Dance

"I thought that the most beautiful thing in the world must be shadow..."—Plath

The days dragged by with a slow madness and Alora kept track of the time by how strong the smell of decay became as it wafted off of the thing strapped to her side.  A constant parade of caretakers and the morbidly curious occupied her waking hours to the point of where she felt like an idol on display.

Yzebel pandered to her in grudging silence and fed her broth, her eyes glued to the large and smelly bandage.  Alora ignored her, just as she did all the other hags and assorted minions who came to creep around her and stare when they thought she wasn't looking.

Abigor, she noticed, developed an unnerving vigilance. Always nearby, always touching her, talking, cajoling, sweeping her hair from her eyes, calming her restless hands, bathing her, cleaning her when she soiled herself,and countless other small tasks  until she had had enough and tried to push him from herself with an aggravated moan.   He'd only laugh and back away to where she couldn't see him.  But she knew he was there.

The thing on her side itched with a fire that quickly enveloped her entire body.  She thrashed and screamed and knew, on some strange beast level, what words she would utter even before her thoughts conjured them into sound.  And she hated the strange restless and mewling thing she would become, as she begged Abigor to relieve the pain, and then begged him to stay with her so she wouldn't be alone.

What she regarded as the tragedy of her days made her eager for the nights.  When the sun sank below the surface and even the lowliest of goblins had found a bed of leaves to sleep on, she dreamed.

In the very heart of darkness

Blood pulsed in her veins

Blood that drummed through her long before existence

For ideas were nothing but thoughts of the wind

And the four-legged held dominion over all

Demon-bred

She was truly nothing more than presence itself

Yet somewhere between breath and darkness

Her mother had given her a soul

And life

Became more then a mere repetition of breath

The vastness of the burning skies had been tethered

Contained

The endless rock conquered

By the simple addition of "I."

                

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"I exist." Alora whispered as she opened her eyes.  The breeze against her face was cool and she realized someone had covered her with a heavier blanket as she slept. The nights were colder now.

Was Islinn cold?

Her mind offered up the question over and over, she remembered thinking of it at some point earlier but was unsure what "earlier" even meant.

And she remembered crying.  Deep,harsh sobs as she wondered if Islinn were cold,or hungry,or even alive and she'd actually felt the reproach of all her silent watchers as they somehow sensed what brought about her tears and turned away, appalled.