Warning: Shortish story. Rapidly moves into mature content. If you shouldn't be reading, then don't.
A story can be both light-hearted nonsense wrapped up in 'what the hell' scenarios of mature content. Was a short story written to pass the time, don't take it as more then what it is.
Enjoy. ^_^
She stared up at the stone ceiling as if hoping to suddenly gain the ability to see in the dark. She could just barely see the groves in the stones. The same boring groves that tailed down the wall in random patterns. The only light that drifted in her cell was the wavering fire light that the torches gave off that were hung sporadically down the corridors.
"Thirty-one… thirty-two…thirty-three…" she counted softly, hearing the dripping from another cell. She had to wonder if it was raining up above, but there were no signs other than the loud dripping that hadn't been there before. It was far better than the callus sound of silence.
"Thirty-four …thirty-five…thirty-six…" She continued, trying to distract herself from the rocks jabbing into her spine and the irregular sound of her heartbeat. After the first five days she'd gotten used to the aching in her body from the beating she'd received but her head still pounded. It took nearly all of her strength to not lie there and worry about internal bleeding and rupturing that could be occurring.
"Thirty-seven…. thirty-seven…." Her eyes slid shut, letting tears escape for the millionth time. She never thought she'd have to get used to feeling cold, but there was nothing to cover up with. Her toes, fingers, and nose felt like they would fall off, and her jeans and light long sleeved shirt weren't much good for warmth in the underground fortress.
"Forty?" She thought after a moment, having already lost count. Focusing became harder when tired, hungry and dirty. The thought of a bath almost made her smile. The last time she'd been in light she'd been disgusted to see her hair looked nearly brown. It was a far cry from her natural ashy blond. She didn't want to think about what other grim was in her hair and on her skin.
"Get up." The warden keeper said, and it wasn't the first time she was surprised when hearing him speak. At first she thought his voice was merely heavily accented with something other language being his first tongue, but she soon realized it was a second language all together. To her, it sounding like bad English, but judging by the odd looks she had gotten before, they found her dialect just as curious.
She laid still, ignoring him for the moment. Had she been able to get up she would have done so hours before. She would have rolled over to try and eat to slop for food they had shoved in the cell earlier. The fact that she was stuck there didn't seem to occur to him.
"I said, get up, cripple!" He yelled, his brightly swirling eyes glowing and lightening her cell somewhat. His magic hasn't yet been drained from his body but it wouldn't with only short trips into the cells. He stormed in after a moment and grabbed the chain between her neck and wrist. She was shackled from both wrists, connected to a chain around her neck and two more around her ankles.
Nearly heaving and gagging she coughed violently until he released her and set her down on her wobbly feet.
"Get moving." He repeated, shoving her out into the corridor. Her eyes stung from the light, the pathetic firelight that wiggled and moved, throwing shadows on the wall like small monsters.
The other inmates either groaned or chuckled at the sight of her. They were all vile men who reeked of urine and mud. They catcalled wildly as she was marched down the dimly lit corridor like a felon. They were disgusting and broken slobs who would have happily welcomed death before freedom. Most probably didn't even remember why they were there, but she did. She understood the concept of 'innocent' until proven 'guilty', and she damn well wouldn't plead guilty for being born.
"How about you keep her this time, Keeper!" One of them yelled. The unmistakable sound of disgust was far too easily distinguished, and she'd become far to use to it in the last month or so.
"I'm not nearly so picky." Another commented. "I'll lay the cripple; shove her in here for a minute or two."
There was a ringing bombardment of laughing. Each of them, including the Keeper laughing at her expense.
"That's all anyone would need with a cripple."
She felt her lips quiver feebly but she refused to add fuel to the fire buy commenting. It would only encourage them. Never before had she felt as ashamed of herself as these men tried to make her feel. She looked down at her right hand and almost smiled a little at the swirling designs. From her shoulder down to the back of her knuckles was a swirling black design that was something between ancient tribal designs and meticulously beautiful spider webs.
It would have appeared to be a simple tattoo if not for the fact she was born with it.
"Keep moving." The Keeper growled, shoving her forward again as if she'd been the one stalling. He loved to let the others poke fun at her. A little humiliation never hurt anyone he said.
It took most of her concentration to keep from falling. The chains on her ankles made it hard enough to walk without being pushed around.
The hardest part was the stairs. There must have been three flights of stairs and she was cursing their inability to manufacture escalators. It was hard enough just walking in a straight line, now she had to actually climb. It was cruel, and they knew it.
The upper levels were much prettier though she only ever saw the hallways. The ones full of rich carpets and tapestries. Portraits hung on the wall proudly of people she'd never seen before and could have cared less about. They each glowed with a brilliance of remaining magic that had once been theirs.
Torches on the walls came much more frequently than they did on the lower levels but up there was for the nobles, and light was a luxury.
"Way to be slow in the inventing of electricity." She thought bitterly. At first she thought perhaps she had merely been spoiled with the advancements of the Far Side but now she didn't much care. Electricity wouldn't have made her more comfortable at this point.
The Keeper dragged her back into the main hall she'd been in many times before already. In the center of the room sat the Royal family on a number of cushions and pillows. They lounged back and giggled as they spoke in gentle tones with one another but the laughter stopped when they saw her being dragged in again.
"Raaie. Riaa." The Keeper bowed at the waist before continuing in. On his first entries with her he had attempted to force her into bowing as well but she refused, ending up in another thrashing. They normally wouldn't have cared but the Raaie didn't like such violence in front of his wife and daughters.
"Welcome back little Dove." Raaie Emil stated.
Dove had grown tired of these games already and stared down at the King and Queen. She even found it ironic that she could address them as such and they had the nerve to look offended. For the first few days she heard the word Raaie and King and Riaa as Queen, but apparently those titles weren't good enough for them. That, or they didn't understand them.
"Perhaps you'll feel like talking today, tiny one." Raaie Emil continued.
"She must be hungry, my most cherished." Riaa Opal said, a taunting lit in her voice. She waved her hand over the delicious smelling foods.
Dove immediately felt that familiar stab of hatred she'd come to be friends with.
"Moma, you're so kind." Maple chuckled. She was their oldest daughter and Dove would have loved to go to high school with her. One punch to her face was all she wanted; bruising that pretty face would have made her day. She looked just like her mother. Dark brown hair, rosy lips, fair skin. They belonged in a Disney movie, but even Disney would have shoved this family off a cliff. The youngest daughter Addie was also a mini clone of the two of them, and was no more than four years old. She clung to her father's side and stared back at Dove in complete confusion.
"Thank you my sweet." Riaa Opal smiled sweetly at her daughter.
"She doesn't need food, she needs a bath. She reeks." The middle son Wing chuckled. He had his mother's hair and complexion but his face was a full younger version of his father's. He was more than likely only a year or so younger then Dove herself but he grinned at her widely, a chalice of fresh wine appearing in his hand. He loved to try and get a rise out of her, thus far, he hadn't succeeded. "She's not too bad for a cripple."
"Bite your tongue." Raaie Emil said sharply.
"It is a damn shame." Jester commented, the oldest of the boys, stunningly blond and good looking. He was only just barely finished growing and looked her over shamelessly despite his family being in the room. "Dirty little thing though."
"Rat, mongrel." Maple shook her head.
"You would be too if you'd spend a month in the lower levels. Have you ever been down there? It's gross." Limber chuckled. The third and final son and probably no more than twelve. He licked his fingers shameless as he cleared it of his dessert. Dove had a hard time being jealous when she couldn't even identify what it had been.
"Can I go back to my fucking cell if you're just gonna sit and ignore me?" She finally sighed.
"You're accent is so strange." Wing muttered. She'd been used to it by this point but as far as she was concerned it was everyone else that was weird.
Jester chuckled. "That's what happens when you grow up on the Far side. There's no magic there at all anyway. Don't see why anyone would want to live there."
Maple laughed and it made Dove want to strike her all the more. "Perfect place for the cripple then."
Again they shared a chuckle at her expense.
"Come now, hoiv'w. Let us hope today she has loosened her tongue." Raaie Emil commented, turning his deceiving gaze back onto Dove. "Little cripple, we've only asked to simple questions. You say your twin and moma are dead, is that right?"
"Yes." Dove frowned, feeling the pain of her words deep in her heart.
"Your pap?" he continued.
"Died when I was very small." Dove shrugged, looking as nonchalant as she could manage. It was none of their business where any of her family members were. Her answers would remain the same.
"How did you get to the Far Side?" Riaa Opal asked.
Dove shrugged. "I told you. I've no memory of it."
"You're lying is ceasing to amuse me." Raaie Emil glowered, slowly getting to his feet. The Keeper knelt as the King approached but Dove didn't appear to be so inclined. He raised a full chalice to his lips and downed the contents quickly.
She suppressed the urge to swallow as he did. Her mouth and throat had been dry for days; barely able to sustain herself on the small amount of water they gave her as it was. That last thing she wanted was to give them the satisfaction of knowing their torture plans were working. Not that they couldn't already see that easily enough with her waning complexion.
Dove stayed silent, staring at his chest instead of his face. He even attempted to tug at her chin and when she continued to refuse eye contact he empty the contents of his chalice of her head, drenching her hair and matting it down further. Droplets fell down her face and onto the floor around her but she made no attempt to move.
"Stubborn child." He commented, ignoring the snickering from his children. "Even for a cripple I assumed you would be smart enough to gather your own self-worth."
"According to you, I'm worth nothing." Dove continued without hesitation. "You can think it all you like. I really don't care."
"Send her back below, pap." Wing said, making a disgruntled sound. "It's where she belongs with the rest of the trash."
"Please." Maple pleaded, "She smells wretched. I can't eat with her in here."
"Such a waste." Raaie Emil commented, though Dove couldn't be sure if he was talking about her or his lack of a drink. "Take her back, and I don't suppose she needs anymore meals today. And for the good graces above, don't bring her back here while we're eating."
The Keeper bowed lower. "My apologies." He waited until the Raaie had moved away before getting to his feet again and dragging her off by her hair. "Let's go you, and keep up before I start to really drag you." He growled softly.
She got one last look at the noble family before the doors lifted and slammed in her face. It was the same every time. They didn't even seem overly curious about her anymore, but humiliating her every day was an interesting pass time.
The Keeper dragged her off back to the lower levels, taking her a different direction then they had first come. It would give different inmates a chance to gripe and groan for a while. Each prisoner would make either a disgusted noise or laugh at her. It didn't make much sense, they weren't much better then she was.
They were chained just as she was. Locked in their own cells with their magic abilities dampened and dried up due to the barriers around them. All those in the lower levels were helpless magic wise, but lucky for her, she had other talents that would prove useful. Useful that is if she could get the proper opportunity.
"Little crippled maggot." The Keeper grumbled, opening a cell door to toss her back inside with a thump. "Do us all a favor and don't get eaten. I'll be back for you again tomorrow."
Dove bit her lip to keep from screaming and crying out as she hit the stone floor again. She was tired hitting her head on everything and was sure even if she got a bath she'd be all black and blue from bruises anyway.
She heard the door shut with a creaking slam and finally let the tears fall. She was back in darkness again and could already feel herself falling into the deafening silence.
A/N- so this entire story was just for fun…you know when you're little and you make up a language with a friend? Yeah, 100% what I did here. Why not? My story…can do what I want…I was going to see who wanted to try to figure it out on their own but..what the hell?
A E I O U B C D F G H J K L M N P Q R S T V W X Y Z
I O U A E F G H J K L M N P Q R S T V W X Y Z B C D
Match the letters from the second row to the ones above to work it out if you care. Lol. Woah, a story and a game!
I'll update fairly regularly. Thanks for reading.