Eleven- The Cursed Nameless

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Many twelve moons that the Cursed One was ripped from her womb, and Aaliyah, the One before took her under her wing.

A beautiful child, that Ximena was named on the dying wish of her mother, but Abdiel would not lay his eyes upon her, and give her the name that was urged, so she was Nameless in the eyes of the brothers.

Among them she was quiet, like a little breeze, unseen and dreamlifted, on the wings of the wind as she ran with it on moonlit nights.

They scorned her, young ones that knew nothing of Her wrath and were lawless, their air arrogant as they were carefree, those unbeknownst of the Curse;

They sunk teeth into her nape, and tripped the slender feet; for her silver tears gave them pleasure, and her shed blood fuelled their superiority over the weak.

Aaliyah could not stop them, for she was weakened in Her faith and they were strengthening in growth, as she too, did not favour this young one when she realised that one day, she would surpass this elder.

And she was bitter, yet remorseful of her own harsh tongue, that she wept in her torment and to She who saw everything:

Pray again, what is this thing that gnaws deep within me and grants such evil? 

The darkness of my desire, as I toss and turn in sleepless nights and finally stare into the sweet face; that knew no evil, and met it with Your innocence;

Oh my Creator, how much, how much does she mirror you;

In features, liking, and all that were made; never was one so dear in this image.

I am jealous! My heart is drowning in this bitter and contemptuous fire;

It is tempting me with whispers and urging so," Why, how can it be, that she is greater than you?

You are Chosen, and favoured; cast her away and we shall know of her no more.

Your brothers will not care for it, alas, more so it may be, within their hearts.

You are the only thing that have barred against their hate—why is that you will not withdraw?

And I plead to you in bitterness and throw myself at your feet for mercy:

Why have you forsaken me so? 

If I had my Sight, why can I not serve my brothers as I always wished and upon your words, acted upon them?

Why had you numbered my days and have her serve as the next? Am I not worthy? Am I not in your favour?

What is the Nameless in Your eyes? Shall my value not surpass hers, when I have accomplished great deeds, far more even, than my ancestors that were crafted of your own hand?

I was granted authority—why should you take such away from me?

I was blessed and gifted—why would it be she who would lead my brothers at my end?





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