Asa Amayia
by ~jazzhello
My tale is a sad tale, but I have found that the telling of such tales that have placed wounds on our hearts heal to heal those wounds. So I pray that you listen with an open heart and mind, and may all who hear my tale learn from it.
~as she looks across her audience, her heart shaped face looses all expression, as though she is lost in the past, taking a deep breath and licking lips suddenly gone dry, she begins to speak her tale in a hushed but clear voice that sounds like wind chimes dancing in the evening breeze~
My tale starts when I was but a child, I was born in 1689 on a tenant farm on the holdings of Duke Turstin. I knew only difficulties as it was said that a child born with silver hair was a witch, so my parents kept my hair covered, or they darkened it with soot from the fire place.
~she reaches up to absently play with a lock of hair, light dancing and catching in her hair with the movement~
When I reached the age of fourteen my parents sent me to the keep as all non first born children are. There it became difficult to hide the color of my hair as I was rarely alone. What I did not know was that the Duke had seen the color of my hair after I had bathed. He ordered his guards to throw me in his dungeons.
I spent a year there not knowing what would happen to me, but having to put up with the "attentions" of the guards and the lord ~tears start to form in her eyes at the memory, stubbornly she shakes her head, refusing to give into the emotions~
Then one night there came a priest who wanted to see me for himself. They pulled me from my cell, my dress little more than rags hanging from my body. He declared I was a witch upon first sight of me and demanded that I be burned that very night to save everyone soul in the caste. He was outraged that I had been allowed to live as long as I had, claiming that I had put a spell on everyone.
~she shudders at the memory as though it still haunts her~
They dragged me into the courtyard where they constructed a fire spire, which they then tired me to. My wrists and elbows were bound behind me, with my fingers interlocked so that I would be unable to cast any spells. They then set fire to the brush wood at my feet. The priest had the lord bring chairs out so they could watch me burn.
I could feel the heat from the fire as it burned and curled the remaining rags from my body. Tears of pain and shame coursed down my cheeks. As the flames started to lick at my toes, I heard a great roar, thinking it was only the fire flaring up higher, I kept my eyes closed, not even the pain from my tears enough to make me open my eyes. Suddenly, I could hear screams around me over the sounds of the fire.
Then I felt cool hands on my blistering shoulders. The pain was so intense I screamed and passed out. I found out later I had been unconscious for two weeks. I began hearing things, the crickets chirping at night were louder than they should have been keeping me awake. The pain had gradually faded. But in its place was a thirst that was its own pain.
When I finally opened my eyes, the colors seemed sharper, as if they had a life of their own. Turning my head I nearly fainted again at what I seen before me. It was a man, but unlike any other man I have ever seen before or since. He stood 6'7", long black hair that came down to his waist which he kept tied back with a silver ribbon.
His face was covered in tattoos, what could be seen of his skin was deathly pale. He reached over to a bell pull by the side of the bed I was lying in and summoned a servant. The girl who came into the room, was very slight, I could smell the fear surrounding her. As he beckoned her closer, my thirst became nearly unbearable. I vowed that I would not give into those yearns however.
He suddenly grabbed her and bit her wrist, he held her arm out to me, I shrank back into the pillows, not knowing or wanting to know what was happening. He clamped his hand over the girl's wrist so she wouldn't be wasted and pinned me to the bed. Dragging the girl with him, he held her arm above my mouth and made me drink the blood that fell from it.
I was disgusted with myself for having felt satisfied when the first few drops of her blood touched my lips. I started to cry. I started to scream at him demanding to know what happened to me, what did he do to me.
He told me he had been watching me since I was born. He felt that we belonged together. I wanted to know why, if he had been watching me all this time, he left me to rot in that dungeon. He told me that he felt it would give me character and saw no reason why I shouldn't have "enjoyed" my stay there. ~a single tear slips from her purple eye to follow a course down her pale check to drop from her chin, splattering onto her hands folded neatly in her lap~
He kept a close watch on my for six months, sending me regular "meals" which at first I refused, until I could no longer control the burning thirst that was trying to take me over. I then learned to kill with as little pain as possible; I could bring myself to be the monster he wanted me to be.
After about six months he started to let his guard down and would leave me for longer periods of time alone in his keep. During one such absence, I managed to sneak off. I have lived on my own since then. Never killing more than I need to stay alive. Here is the end of my tale. The times I have spent in my travels are other tales. They may or may not be told at a later time as the mood strikes me. ~she inclines her head once more to her audience~
I want to continue on, just not sure what direction I want to take as, this is a character I rope play with on IMVU, but have been online in a while. Please be kind if you review as this is the first story I've ever written.