Chapter 11: Shadows of the Past
It felt good to be exhausted. It felt good to be exhausted because it felt good to have accomplished something she could be proud of. Her weary limbs, her aching back, her sore feet and burning eyes were all worth it for Asturia had her alliance.
For three straight weeks Eries had represented her kingdom across the four quarters of Gaea gaining sympathy and establishing the bond against Zaibach. It'd taken almost everything out of her to successfully bribe, beg, charm, threaten and implore the leaders of the nations. Those who hadn't joined had been at least willing to send relief since they depended on Asturia for their trade.
She took pride in what she had done and in a strange way she felt Folken would have been proud of her, too.
Now back in Asturia, in Palas, in her own bedroom she was able to take a moment to reflect on everything that was happening.
Her task had been completed just in time for the first battle had already been fought in Asturia's own Rampart. Zaibach must have gotten wind of forming alliance against them and decided to make the first move before they could get organized. The tactic had worked - the outpost was little more than ash now. Eries had received word of the assault while in Ezgardia and been immediately summoned home. The messenger told her it was the urging of a Zaibach defector that had stirred the hearts of her people to war. She'd immediately thought of Folken, and immediately chastised herself. Folken was dead, she needed to stop dreaming.
Eries rubbed her palms against her forehead frustrated. Even now she thought on him. Why couldn't she stop? Why during the most important meetings of her life did her mind inevitably drift to Folken?
With a bit of self-directed anger she yanked off her boots and tossed them across the room hearing them thunk one after the other against the wall and onto the floor. She stretched her toes and ankles glad to finally have them free of the leather encasing and reached around to start unlacing the back of her dress. The task proved difficult at the moment though she'd done it ten thousand times. No handmaid had ever tied or untied her corset, but her unresponsive hands were only making the knots worse.
Finally, out of frustration she bore her claws and sliced the laces apart with one swift stroke fully aware that she would be hampered with having to sew it back together in the morning. Her sharp nails ripped straight through the cloth and into her skin. Distraught at her own impatience and carelessness she let out a small cry somewhere between a sob and laugh.
What a fool! For a moment she'd actually begun thinking once again that she'd be a good queen; after all convincing kingdoms to go to war for your own was not an easy task. Yet here she sat now - a foolish little beastgirl not even able to undress without hurting herself.
She striped the rest of her dress and stared down at the white tufts of fur on her wrists. They itched madly after being kept stifled beneath her sleeves for so long. The fur on her ankles and shoulders was no less bothersome. Up her arms to her neck and down her legs to her shins ran speckles of black spots joined with white scars from her not so distant childhood. She could feel the blood trickling down her back, down her spine to the place where a tail had once emerged from her backside. Eries clamped her hands over her ears feeling the cold metal that bound them and she remembered ...
For fifteen years she'd tried to forget that night and now the memories, those horrid memories come flooding back.
"I don't want to remember," Eries cried unable to stop it. She buried her face into the darkness of her hands trying to block the images from her mind, but it was feelings that came back the strongest and the feelings that were the worst.
King Aston's arms. The first thing she could recall. He'd never held her before or since, but it'd felt better than anything she'd ever known. She snuggled against him and purred into his shoulder. She had felt safe, as he'd carried deep into the castle. For a moment she'd even believed he'd cared about her. That he might even love her.
It was a fantasy soon shattered when he'd handed her to the strange men called doctors, claimed they would make her better, and left. Eries hoped he'd heard her screams that night; she hoped it haunted him. She doubted it did.
Those men, the doctors, had been all business. No comforting or reassuring words for her they'd lain her face down on the table and unable to understand what was going on she'd complied as they strapped her arms and legs to the table and pushed her nightgown up her back.
Someone had given her a piece of metal to bite down upon as another secured a band at the base of her tail. She could remember the tingling sensation it created and looking up imploringly at one of men seconds before the first cut was made.
"No, no, no," she moaned feeling the pain as strong as it had been back then. "I don't want to remember this." Someone knocked at her door, but she didn't hear it her own screams from the past blocking everything else out.
The bone of her tail was severed at the joint and the silky white rope stained red with her blood was laid beside her on the table. Eries had wailed until her throat was soak and her cheeks were soaked with tears. She'd thrashed and bit at their hands as they tried to hold her still to finish the operation. Another man began snipping away at her ears as the first sewed up the tiny stub left of her tail.
They'd also placed the gold earring upon her ears to cover what their scalpels could not fix. The metal was still hot then and it burned and bound itself permanently to her.
Eries wanted to pass out now the pain had been so intense. For hours after they'd left she'd lain there whimpering until finally the exhaustion dropped her into an uneasy sleep.
She'd woken to find her arms and legs were unbound but covered in her own dried blood that stuck her legs to the table and her eyelashes together. The numbness had a hold of her at first, but when she tried to move the pain instantly returned. For a long time she stayed there, unable to move, in tears and in pain.
After what must have been several days Aston showed up again. He'd ordered her up, forcing her stand despite the pain it caused and to dress in the pretty new gown he had brought with him. There was to be a celebration of his new daughters birth that night and he wanted her there.
With a stern face and menacing eyes he'd given her a warning. "I want you to forget everything that's happened here. Never speak of it or your past to anyone," he demanded. "Not even to Marlene and especially not to Millerna. To her you will be my daughter and her sister. You are a beastgirl no more."
Everything and nothing had changed that night. Her life was suddenly filled with people beyond Mother and Marlene, but she was still alone. Aston had given her an education, a position, a title, and a thousand responsibilities to make her a true princess in everyone's eyes but his own. His heart never changed and his hand was never stilled. She was always a beastgirl to him.
Eries wiped her tears away, once again sitting back in her room her dress clutched to her chest. In her bottom desk drawer was stored the bottle of rat poison. She would not use it anymore. Aston dying now they said; there was no way to stop his sickness. If she used the poison now would mean a quick release from his torment. Let him suffer as he had made her suffer.
She rose back to her feet as the knock at the door came again; this time Eries heard it. But she couldn't even call out to wait before it opened. She clutched her dress tighter against her chest well aware that her fur and spots were showing to whomever should poke their head inside.
"Eries?"
She knew that voice! And she knew the tall figure that followed it into her room.
"Naria?" he asked this time his voice full of confusion.
"Folken?!" She couldn't believe it; her Folken was standing right there before her. Her trembling hands let the dress slip the ground unnoticed by her, but not by him.
"Hime!" Folken's face burned red with embarrassment. "Gomen!" He quickly pulled the door shut again leaving Eries staring in astonished disbelief at the door.
It felt good to be exhausted. It felt good to be exhausted because it felt good to have accomplished something she could be proud of. Her weary limbs, her aching back, her sore feet and burning eyes were all worth it for Asturia had her alliance.
For three straight weeks Eries had represented her kingdom across the four quarters of Gaea gaining sympathy and establishing the bond against Zaibach. It'd taken almost everything out of her to successfully bribe, beg, charm, threaten and implore the leaders of the nations. Those who hadn't joined had been at least willing to send relief since they depended on Asturia for their trade.
She took pride in what she had done and in a strange way she felt Folken would have been proud of her, too.
Now back in Asturia, in Palas, in her own bedroom she was able to take a moment to reflect on everything that was happening.
Her task had been completed just in time for the first battle had already been fought in Asturia's own Rampart. Zaibach must have gotten wind of forming alliance against them and decided to make the first move before they could get organized. The tactic had worked - the outpost was little more than ash now. Eries had received word of the assault while in Ezgardia and been immediately summoned home. The messenger told her it was the urging of a Zaibach defector that had stirred the hearts of her people to war. She'd immediately thought of Folken, and immediately chastised herself. Folken was dead, she needed to stop dreaming.
Eries rubbed her palms against her forehead frustrated. Even now she thought on him. Why couldn't she stop? Why during the most important meetings of her life did her mind inevitably drift to Folken?
With a bit of self-directed anger she yanked off her boots and tossed them across the room hearing them thunk one after the other against the wall and onto the floor. She stretched her toes and ankles glad to finally have them free of the leather encasing and reached around to start unlacing the back of her dress. The task proved difficult at the moment though she'd done it ten thousand times. No handmaid had ever tied or untied her corset, but her unresponsive hands were only making the knots worse.
Finally, out of frustration she bore her claws and sliced the laces apart with one swift stroke fully aware that she would be hampered with having to sew it back together in the morning. Her sharp nails ripped straight through the cloth and into her skin. Distraught at her own impatience and carelessness she let out a small cry somewhere between a sob and laugh.
What a fool! For a moment she'd actually begun thinking once again that she'd be a good queen; after all convincing kingdoms to go to war for your own was not an easy task. Yet here she sat now - a foolish little beastgirl not even able to undress without hurting herself.
She striped the rest of her dress and stared down at the white tufts of fur on her wrists. They itched madly after being kept stifled beneath her sleeves for so long. The fur on her ankles and shoulders was no less bothersome. Up her arms to her neck and down her legs to her shins ran speckles of black spots joined with white scars from her not so distant childhood. She could feel the blood trickling down her back, down her spine to the place where a tail had once emerged from her backside. Eries clamped her hands over her ears feeling the cold metal that bound them and she remembered ...
For fifteen years she'd tried to forget that night and now the memories, those horrid memories come flooding back.
"I don't want to remember," Eries cried unable to stop it. She buried her face into the darkness of her hands trying to block the images from her mind, but it was feelings that came back the strongest and the feelings that were the worst.
King Aston's arms. The first thing she could recall. He'd never held her before or since, but it'd felt better than anything she'd ever known. She snuggled against him and purred into his shoulder. She had felt safe, as he'd carried deep into the castle. For a moment she'd even believed he'd cared about her. That he might even love her.
It was a fantasy soon shattered when he'd handed her to the strange men called doctors, claimed they would make her better, and left. Eries hoped he'd heard her screams that night; she hoped it haunted him. She doubted it did.
Those men, the doctors, had been all business. No comforting or reassuring words for her they'd lain her face down on the table and unable to understand what was going on she'd complied as they strapped her arms and legs to the table and pushed her nightgown up her back.
Someone had given her a piece of metal to bite down upon as another secured a band at the base of her tail. She could remember the tingling sensation it created and looking up imploringly at one of men seconds before the first cut was made.
"No, no, no," she moaned feeling the pain as strong as it had been back then. "I don't want to remember this." Someone knocked at her door, but she didn't hear it her own screams from the past blocking everything else out.
The bone of her tail was severed at the joint and the silky white rope stained red with her blood was laid beside her on the table. Eries had wailed until her throat was soak and her cheeks were soaked with tears. She'd thrashed and bit at their hands as they tried to hold her still to finish the operation. Another man began snipping away at her ears as the first sewed up the tiny stub left of her tail.
They'd also placed the gold earring upon her ears to cover what their scalpels could not fix. The metal was still hot then and it burned and bound itself permanently to her.
Eries wanted to pass out now the pain had been so intense. For hours after they'd left she'd lain there whimpering until finally the exhaustion dropped her into an uneasy sleep.
She'd woken to find her arms and legs were unbound but covered in her own dried blood that stuck her legs to the table and her eyelashes together. The numbness had a hold of her at first, but when she tried to move the pain instantly returned. For a long time she stayed there, unable to move, in tears and in pain.
After what must have been several days Aston showed up again. He'd ordered her up, forcing her stand despite the pain it caused and to dress in the pretty new gown he had brought with him. There was to be a celebration of his new daughters birth that night and he wanted her there.
With a stern face and menacing eyes he'd given her a warning. "I want you to forget everything that's happened here. Never speak of it or your past to anyone," he demanded. "Not even to Marlene and especially not to Millerna. To her you will be my daughter and her sister. You are a beastgirl no more."
Everything and nothing had changed that night. Her life was suddenly filled with people beyond Mother and Marlene, but she was still alone. Aston had given her an education, a position, a title, and a thousand responsibilities to make her a true princess in everyone's eyes but his own. His heart never changed and his hand was never stilled. She was always a beastgirl to him.
Eries wiped her tears away, once again sitting back in her room her dress clutched to her chest. In her bottom desk drawer was stored the bottle of rat poison. She would not use it anymore. Aston dying now they said; there was no way to stop his sickness. If she used the poison now would mean a quick release from his torment. Let him suffer as he had made her suffer.
She rose back to her feet as the knock at the door came again; this time Eries heard it. But she couldn't even call out to wait before it opened. She clutched her dress tighter against her chest well aware that her fur and spots were showing to whomever should poke their head inside.
"Eries?"
She knew that voice! And she knew the tall figure that followed it into her room.
"Naria?" he asked this time his voice full of confusion.
"Folken?!" She couldn't believe it; her Folken was standing right there before her. Her trembling hands let the dress slip the ground unnoticed by her, but not by him.
"Hime!" Folken's face burned red with embarrassment. "Gomen!" He quickly pulled the door shut again leaving Eries staring in astonished disbelief at the door.
