PART II

My deed were wrong

I've stained the land

And slain my kin

(Burning Soul)

There's no release from my sins

~*~Curse of Feanor – Blind Guardian~*~

The words of the speakers three swam around her as viscously as the storm had. Raylah desperately wanted to rise and rush back into the forest's gloom but found that she could not. She simply was unable to stand to her feet.

"What do you want with me?" she cried, salty liquid biting at her lids. She was helpless and so very frightened. "I have done nothing wrong!"

Mocking laughter grated through the silence and filled the air around her. Raylah was left with the sensation of wispy insects scampering over her skin. She swallowed hard and pressed shaking hands together.

"You are smothered in sin, Princess Raylah."

"You flee from your crimes."

"You deserve everything that shall befall you."

"It is not true!" Her voice was raucous. "I would not..."

The killing of one's own flesh.

She knew she'd done nothing wrong just as she knew she wasn't mad! Her memory was blurry, this was true but that didn't mean she was a bad person...

A crackling of thunder surged out high above their place of conversation. Raylah started, sucking in a great gulp of air. Wind wrinkled through the gigantic trees and flapped at her billowing garments The darkness grew in density and in shadows. It pulsated like a frothing creature angered. She could see nothing for her vision had been cast aside but she knew that the three speakers were biding their time. Their gazes lingered upon her, ready to invest in some firebrand, mottled version of justice.

"For something I've not done!" Her muddled mind was quick to protest.

But in her heart, far beneath the flesh and blood and living, her knew otherwise. And that was what truly terrified her. Not the forest and it hidden horrors, not the three speakers with their harebrained accusations but herself. That she might be fleeing from some horrendous crime she'd committed...

"Of that you are true." The voice of the third speaker slit through the quickening gale. "For that you must attest."

Raylah raised her head and with verdant eyes wide, sealed her fate. "I shan't!"

Lightening suddenly blistered like the sun's gleam from upon a mirror. It held, casting light against the storm-raped woodland of her settings. Though she could now see everything, from her fingerprints in the mud before her to the watery thicket behind her, she caught no sight of her speakers. As she blinked rapidly, Raylah found that she was unsurprised.

"Now you shall see, Princess," proclaimed the first voice. "See what thine hand had wrought."

A faded, warbling sound, much like the rapid scraping of fingernails upon wood, filtered from afar. It resonated against the burly trees and chipped rock. Raylah's dread lengthened tenfold at the audible prelude. Then, as suddenly as the lightening had appeared, it vanished but not before leaving Raylah with a sickening sight.

In the familiar darkness, the image burned itself into her mindflesh. Nausea tore at her stomach, casting it upwards. The stench sifted towards her and it was unbearable. Her eyes watered copiously as she was forced to press the gaping sleeve of her cloak to her face.

Oozing from the roots of the trees were streams of crimson syrup. It bubbled and foamed like the ravings of a person mad. The wayward tread in strides of madness Sticks of bleached bone and scrapes of soggy flesh slid forth upon red ripples. Hair, real hair clung with vivid goo, gushed languorously in thick tufts. Over the pebble-littered soil it came, a viscous fluid that was etched into the corners of her mind.

Raylah unfroze. She bounded to her feet, yanking up heavy skirts. The soft rushing, similar to a coursing brook, cut through the silence of the night. She quickly stepped backwards and found that scarlet splashes were lapping at the heels of her slippers.

She shrieked with repulsion as scathing laughter veiled her. In her mind she could see all too clearly the lake of vibrant filth that threatened to engulf her.

Scrabbling pinchers pierced at her ankles. She stumbled as she was penetrated. Pain spilled up her legs and swelled about her. Something slippery, no doubt a piece of spongy flesh, polished at her cold skin. Raylah wheezed for air, panic seizing her breath, even as she still screamed.

The scarlet puddle was rising...and now her blood joined it. Slicing nails raked at her legs with malicious intent. Raylah found herself sinking into swarming warmth. She would be swallowed while the speakers three looked on.

"Covetous is this blood...that which you have shed."

"Thine cries fall upon deaf ears."

"Here thine body shall eternally rot."

It was those last words, spoken in the gruff tones of the second man, that infiltrated through Raylah's haze of horror. Die here, like the slain carcass of a hunted animal? She would not! She refused to die here, afraid and cowering! She was a Princess and she would act as such!

Tears sprung upon her eyes as she jerked away from the puncturing claws with a tremendous force. Blood spattered from her shorn ankles, mingling into the carmine pool swelling above the forest's floor. Raylah lurched violently and for agonizing instant she was certain that she would tumble straight into the sea of blood. However, with arms windmilling she managed to keep her balance. Dashing through the mounting flood, trying desperately not to think of what she was stepping through and what was attempting to seize her, Raylah fought down the acidic fluid that threatened to spill past quivering lips.

"From thine deeds, thou cannot flee."

"I can!" she shrieked, blindly ploughing forth. "You shall not keep me here!"

Another snap of lightening arced through the night, lighting up the boundaries of her world. In her path's direct, stood the three speakers. All were tall and all were hooded in robes of purest black. Raylah cried out and spun around. To her horror, vermilion waves were solidifying before her. They rose from the cloying liquid in long, juicy fibers. They coiled at her calves, rendering her inert. The lightening began to fade and as it did, ice-laden fingers dug into her arms.

"No!" She struggled frantically, even as clutching binds grew in pressure. "I will not be taken! You cannot-mmmph!"

A thing made up of parts frozen and scummy was crammed into her mouth. Behind her back, her hands were twisted and held. Lengthy fingers clutched through her hair and forced her head back. Piercing coldness glint at her throat.

"Cease now Princess. This blade is true."

Raylah grew still for she knew they meant it. Scalding fear curdled in the pit of her stomach, festering like gorging spores. She moaned against the gag. Sour rancidity slanted into her mouth, tasting of spoiled milk and raw meat. Her breath hitched causing the knife's blade to ripple over her throat. A stinging pain ruptured into her skin.

"Take from this wicked sinner now, brother."

Gagging, mindless panic apprehended her. Through it all, Raylah's only coherent thought was of the parchment tacked upon the tree's bark she'd seen some distance back. What had been writ upon it...

All ye be welcome save sinners of the faith.

Was that what she was, a sinner of the faith? What had she done before her fall? Surely it couldn't have been anything so as to warrant these ghastly acts! What was to happen to her? She couldn't die here, she just couldn't!

"Done will be what is ours to complete."

As though marking these words, a vast torrent of wind crushed over them. Heavy skirts were swept about and from beneath. Sliding languidly up the skin of her bare legs came something both icy and sweltering. The bloody strands jerked at her calves and her legs cleaved apart.

The beat of her heart throbbed in nasty rates as her breathing caught. She wasn't to be deflowered was she? She was a Princess not some sort of common harlot! She writhed, shrieking against the gag. Immediately the cruel steel poised at her throat moved...sliced and a trickle of warmed rolled down her throat and between her panting breasts.

In the blackness, Raylah knew that the warmth was carmine in color.

Hands pulled at her dress. The voluminous grey material rose from the front and was held aside. Chilled wind scoured at shaking lower limbs. Crawling fingers mounted, touching smooth flesh as they went. Raylah clenched her watering eyes shut and prayed hysterically.

This wasn't happening to her! It couldn't be, she didn't deserve it! Sliced upon, defiled by three men as she stood in a pool of murky blood...

"Carve out what festers within her."

Fingers shifted upwards, reaching high beneath her dress to creep along the flat stretch of her stomach. And before Raylah was able to absorb what was to happen, before the words spoken could permeate through her clinging shadows of fear, her abdomen was sliced upon.

Her scream of terror and pain fell into the putrid gag. Shards of liquid agony sweltered throughout her body. She gushed forth in a tepid cascade, blood soaking her gown and drooling down her legs. She yanked at her detained arms, yanked hard and thrashed furiously but nothing came of it. Laughter raked over her, jeering her vain attempts.

"Deaden her womb and the filth it contains."

As she still yelled and writhed, for now it was all she was able to do, Raylah was etched into. Squirming digits, like hard worms, burrowed into her flesh, splitting and tearing. Something was pulled at, wrenched at and it spouted out in a great surge of scarlet. A coil of pink membrane...and a feeling of acute loss. It was torn from her and the pain was so great, blackness scalded at the edge of her vision.

"Thine babe is no longer whore."

Understanding dawned scant seconds before Raylah fainted.