Curse Of Hades: rise of the Phoenix

war inside the body

"Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart."

-Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

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Prisca woke up to the immediate feeling of agony. It felt like a blazing vine of thorns with sharpened knives attached to the edge was being repeatedly inserted into her abdomen. Breathing was painful. Moving was painful. It was like she woke up in a world where only agony exists and peace is a privilege. It felt like she was giving birth to triplets, but she never gave birth in her entire life.

Tears welled up in her eyes and she finally mustered up the strength to sit up, and looked down at the sheets only to see a thick pool of blood soaking the bed and her groin area. The smell made her want to throw up, and she immediately laid back down. She wanted to cry, to scream, to thrash around in pain. Every beat of her heart felt like a dagger repeatedly stabbing her ribcage. Her lungs felt trapped in a tight net whenever she tried to breathe, and her legs were shaking and trembling from how much she was tensing them up to get rid of the pain and cramps.

Every sound irritated her. Every smell made her feel like she was suffocating. Every time the fabric of her clothes brushed against her skin felt like needles being inserted into her pores. Every time a strand of her winter hair would caress her skin felt like an itch under her skin.

Suddenly, she heard a knock at the door. The sound was very irritating to her ears, but she doesn't recall a single moment where something as meaningless as someone knocking on the door made her so angry. Then, the voice of her mother could be heard.

-"Prisca? My lamb, what's wrong? I heard you crying last night." She asked and slowly opened the door and saw her daughter laying on the bed in pain.

-"oh my gods! Prisca, it looks like a sacrifice had taken place!" She exclaimed and ran towards her now crying daughter. She reached out to hold her, her arms wrapped around Prisca's waist.

-"mother... It... It hurts... It hurts more than ever..." Prisca managed to blurt out, and then let out a deep sigh of relief as she felt the excruciating pain die down, allowing her to calm down and process what had happened today, but the pain came back stronger like a giant wave.
Her mother, worried, placed a hand on her cheek and rubbed her milky skin.

-"don't worry, my child. I will get you some herbal tea to help you with the torture your body is inflicting on you." She hums softly and lovingly, and leans down to kiss her daughter on the forehead. She stood up and looked down at Prisca with her midnight black eyes that had concern painted in them. The sight of her daughter in so much pain and agony hurt the very depths of her motherly soul.

She let out a quiet sigh, and walked to the door. She stepped outside Prisca's room, closing the door behind herself, and walked downstairs to meet the rest of the family that was gathering their things and getting ready to travel to another city. The mother looked at the family. Her husband, who smiled lovingly in her direction, stood up and approached her to give her an affectionate kiss on her nose. Her three sons watched the display. The two older ones, who were thirteen and ten years old, looked away with mild disgust, while the youngest, who was only four years old and still a toddler, remained completely oblivious when the oldest covered his eyes.
Prisca's mother looked up at her beloved husband with a look of worry, that he quickly picked up on.

-"is something worrying you, my dear? You seem troubled. Tell me what plagues your mind today." He asks her with a hushed tone, to which his wife responds;

-"it's our daughter, Prisca. She's not well. I'm going to make her some tea to alleviate the pain... Although unfortunately, we won't be able to leave today." She tried explaining without giving away too much information. Her oldest son, whose name is Eros, heard the conversation and spoke up.

-"what!? Why!? You promised we were leaving today!" He protested. His two younger brothers watched with concern.

-"your sister is sick, and we can't travel when one of us is ill! It's dangerous!" His mother raised her voice as she grew frustrated.

-"Enough, Eros! No matter, if someone is ill, we can't leave. We must stay with Prisca until she is healed, and then we can travel out of the city." The father, whose name is Nero, broke up the dispute and stepped between his wife and his son, Eros.

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While the family was still arguing, Ambrosius took this opportunity to see his beloved again, and say his goodbyes to her. Although it wasn't really a goodbye, he would always follow her to whatever city she traveled to with his family. But sadly, his general would always find him and punish him.

He ran through the snowy ground, and when he reached the side of the house, he climbed to the balcony that led to Prisca's room, and noticed that the window window was left open. He chuckled deviously to himself and slid inside, only to find her laying in her bed, with blood pooling between her legs and her body curled in a ball of pain. Concern immediately flooded his mind, and he ran to her bedside and gently wrapped his arms around her chest.

-"what happened, Prisca!? Are you hurt!?" He asked, with fear laced into his voice. He heard her whimper painfully and slowly turned to look at him with her teary eyes.

-"Ambrosia... I... I can't explain it to you... But... Just know... That I am in greater pain than any mortal can describe... It feels like Hera has punished me with this curse of agonizing cramps inside my womb every month..." She spoke quietly and gasped in pain, and reached out to grip his bicep tightly. He winced at her sudden vice-like grip, but he held her close to his body, hoping to bring her comfort. He wanted to look between her legs and check if she wasn't injured, but he didn't. He knew better than to let his eyes wander where they shouldn't.

But he pushed his thoughts away, and only focused on comforting her. It upset him that he couldn't do anything about it, having no control over the curse that Prisca spoke of. He wished he could take her pain away, to sing her songs and whisper sweet nothings. But for now, she didn't need words. All she needed was a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, and the strong arms of Ambrosius to hold her and guide her through the agony.