Ascension - (Alarian Warriors)

Aveyon left the elf’s room, re-entering the one that had been set up for her use. She quickly stripped off her rags and tossed them aside. She noticed a small basket with soap, towels and what she could only guess was a nightgown? It didn’t matter, she’d get to clothing later. After all the water looked far too welcoming, and she couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Stepping outside she walked, on rather unsteady feet, to the large pool. Testing the water with her foot, she jerked it back surprised at how hot it was. This was certainly different to being hosed down by freezing cold water.

Sitting down on the edge of smooth stones, she slowly slid her legs into the water. Savouring the feeling of the warmth as it spread across her skin and through her entire body. How long had it been since she’d felt such heat? Finally, she pushed her full body in and found she could stand on the bottom. Her waist was only just covered by the water line.

A sense of loneliness swept across her. There had always been someone in the same room as her, this felt strange. Being away from Emerald was harder than she thought. She didn’t want to stay very long, but if she returned too soon, she would be scolded by the elf.

Sinking to her knees her mouth sunk below the water line and she blew bubbles as she pouted. She didn’t really know what to do. Relaxing a little more, she studied her surroundings. This place... was so different, and not what she had expected at all.

In the past, the warlock had just hosed her down, mainly so she didn’t smell bad. Making sure to only feed her just enough to stay alive, so that he could keep...NO! Stop he’s dead! She told herself. Stop thinking about it.

Running her fingers along the white scars that covered her body it was evident that his marks would never truly fade. They were slightly risen; her skin would never again be smooth. She remembered how every single one had been inflicted. Being locked in darkness for so many years, she’d almost forgotten what they looked like.

With the moon being so close to full it made the water reflect everything around it like a mirror. Standing again she could clearly see herself; her skin was ghostly white, and the vein-like scars made it look like her skin was jagged and torn. She tilted her head; she could no longer recognize herself.

She slapped at the water, making her reflection disappear. Trying to turn her mind away from the wondering thoughts. Sliding herself down under the water, sitting on the bottom of the pool, she fully submerged her head under the water. She let the spring completely engulf her senses, it felt good to feel something... different.

Coming up for air she ran her hands through her hair only to get them caught in a tangled mess. Finding a small ledge under the water line she hoisted herself up. Making sure she wasn’t sitting on her hair she tried to untangle and wash out the dirt, grime and gunk. From here she couldn’t help but notice the large white marks all over her legs, her fingers found themselves tracing the lines along her skin once again.

She shook her head, giving up on her hair and slid off the small ledge back into the water. She didn’t want to look at those scars, anything but those. Even while trying to enjoy the warm water, she couldn’t shake the dirty feeling.

Her body was violated and ugly to her. It was all because of what he had done to her. She realized then; that she’d never truly be rid of him. He was always with her; he’d made sure of that. Having left marks behind as a consistent reminder. Her vision glazed over as if she could no longer stop herself from remembering.

The feeling of cold steel, tearing at her flesh as she struggled for freedom. The memories of him using her body, countless times. Each time, she had fought, struggled and resisted in any way she could. He’d ended up having to get creative with his restraining methods.

Blood... so much blood. It was everywhere, straining the sheets, her limbs, coating the floor. Every scar, every mark, was a reminder of what he had done to her. What he had taken from her.

Tears began to run down her cheek as she scrubbed her skin furiously. She couldn’t handle it anymore; she wanted him gone from her skin. An uncontrollable sobbing began as she just wanted it to stop.

The water started to run red as her scrubbing turned to clawing. An underlying feeling of wanting to scream overcame her, but her throat ran dry. There was no release. Feeling trapped once again, but in her own body, she could never leave.

She dug her nails deeper into her flesh, already numb to the pain. She tore at her body, raking her nails through her skin, trying to tear the feeling out of her body. I must be rid of it!

“Crap!” A voice came from behind her.

She paid no mind to it, she barely noticed. She just kept ripping her skin to shreds. She realized it wasn’t that she couldn’t feel the pain, but simply that she didn’t care. The sting of the mineral water was almost soothing like it was cleansing her raw flesh. She welcomed the burning sensation as it gave her some sense of relief. However, tears still fell, and the memories of the past would not subside. The feeling of him using her body was too much to bear.

She suddenly became aware of someone else in the water. Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her hands away from her body. She cried out. “No! I must clean it off! I don’t want it! I want it gone!!! I can’t stand it!”

She was shaking her head frantically, trying to move to continue to ‘cleanse’ herself. But the strong hands weren’t letting her go, their grip too tight.

“There’s cleaning you're self, and then there’s killing you're self! Can’t you see the blood!?”

Aveyon snapped back to reality; she looked down at the water. Her eyes widened as she saw the spring had been tainted by the colour crimson. Her gaze lingered on her forearm, finally noticing the gashes and cuts she’d created. Her face morphed into a horrified expression. I really am losing my mind, she thought as she tilted her head back to see Vincent.

His face looked so soft, so caring. Nothing like Bevan’s devil-filled mannerisms. Vincent appeared genuinely concerned for her well-being. His expression made something in her stomach knot and twist. A feeling of overwhelming dread blinded her senses. She didn’t want to exist like this. She couldn’t hold it in any longer, unable to move she did the only thing she could.

She screamed.

It was a horrifying high-pitched wail that made all sounds of life in the forest cease. Letting the tears run down her face, she didn’t care anymore, she just wanted the pain of living to stop. How she allowed herself to be this vulnerable she didn’t know. How she allowed herself not to focus on her goal terrified her, would she really have killed herself tonight?

Vincent stood there and let her release all the pent-up frustration. He’d smelt the blood and found himself running to her side. Once he saw what she was doing, he was in the water bounding toward her.

He smiled sadly at her; she was trembling as he held her firm. When she screamed, he knew she needed it, the anguish, the pain that he felt escape from her in that moment made his heartbreak.

Releasing his hold on her wrists he pulled her close, she didn’t resist. His arms wrapped around her in an embrace, something she wasn’t used to.

“You're safe here, you'home.” His hand stroked her hair, trying his best to soothe her.

She took comfort in his actions. Something about him made her want to cling to him, it was a feeling of warmth. Deep down she wanted someone to care for her, to always hold her like this. Wrapping their hands around her and holding her tight. It felt like she mattered like she had a reason to continue living. She wasn’t just some used-up and thrown-away rag doll.

But to her, he was just being nice because he had to be, she was royalty, and it was his duty. Her hands clenched at his soggy clothes as she struggled to regain her composure, the hiccupping sobs didn’t seem to want to stop.

“Let it all out.” He whispered to her. He wanted to ask if she was okay, but he knew the answer. This behaviour was typical of rape victims, he’d seen it many times. However, it never made it any easier. His eyes pleaded with her to open up to him, but she wasn’t ready, so he didn’t push the matter.

“Do you want to leave the bath and get cleaned up?” He asked, thinking that the shivering was from one, a lack of blood and two, the water.

Having calmed down a little, her feelings turned cold. No one really cared for her, they only pretended simply because they had to. It was the way it had always been she was after all worthless. His embrace felt shallow and foreign to her now, but still, she clung to him.

He felt her nod her head against his chest. Moving one arm to the back of her shoulders and the other behind her knees, he lightly scooped her up cradling her in his arms. Taking her from the pool, it was hard not to notice that her body was covered in scars. His stomach knotted, He knew what those marks were, he’d seen it many times, too many times.

He sat her down by the edge of the pool, wrapping her in a towel and resting her back against the smooth rock face of a nearby stone. It didn’t take long for the blood to seep through.

“Let me get Elaina.” He said to her as he went to stand.

Aveyon shook her head, her hand clenched onto his wet shirt, stopping him. “Just stay.” She whispered.

Vincent knelt in front of her, letting her cling to him. It was like she needed something that grounded her, something that kept her from thinking about the past.

“I think Elaina, would be best to patch you up, so I will only be-”

“NO!” Aveyon yelled, growing frustrated with his antics. “I do not want anyone else to see...”

She trailed off tightening the blood-soaked towel around herself.

Vincent was a little shocked, but Elaina was the best choice given him being male and the adverse reactions he had seen so far.

Her hand let go of Vincent and moved to her forehead. She smiled, more laughing at her own actions, she thought perhaps she was going insane after all.

Vincent reached out and placed his hand on her chin, lifting her face to his. “I really have to get bandages.”

She sighed and dropped her hand to her side. “Vincent, I really don’t want any more scars.”

His eyes widened as he caught her meaning, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea given-” She cut off again.

“Vincent please, it is okay I will not panic, you have my word.” She didn’t give him a chance to finish. She didn’t quite understand why she was okay with him touching her, she had noticed it earlier but didn’t want to think too deeply about it. She could tell he was still unsure by the look on his face.

“I feel nothing when you touch me Vincent, I do not understand it, but it is different from the others, I think it may have something to do with what you are. You are not... normal.” She explained.

“Thanks, I think...” He frowned. “I’ve always suspected, I’m not a real boy.” He joked, but the statement he knew had a small amount of truth to it. Studying her wounds, he added. “I will do as you ask, only if you promise to feed after.”

That was his condition, she was asking for something big of him, so he asked for something in return. Although it was to her benefit, she knew it would mean that he would find something for her, so she could feed. It was, in a sense, accepting his help to do something that she could not do on her own. She didn’t like it, after all, she had been very adamant about doing things by herself.

“Agreed.” She finally said after thinking about it.

He sat down facing her and slowly took her arm into his hands. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and concentrated. He drew in energy, the essence around him, channelling it through his body and into hers.

She gasped as she felt a jolt of what seemed like electricity, shot up her arm. The sensation changed to a cool flow that moved under the skin.

“Be careful.” She warned.

This type of healing could drain the user to the point of death. Her mother had often used it when she had a scrap on her knee or a bump on her head. It required a tremendous amount of essence to wield, why did he know it?

“I’ve studied long and hard, I don’t like using this form of essence wielding as it takes from something else, but I know what I’m doing.” He tilted his head to the small flowers near the trees.

She noticed that unlike before they were now slightly droopy, like life had been drained from them. He was pulling energy from around them rather than from himself.

With her head angled away from him, he caught sight of the empty eye socket under her hair. Without thinking he pushed her hair back revealing the damage, his face must have had a horrified expression as she hastily hid it away again.

“It is just not that great a thing to look at, and far too long gone to heal.” Her gaze fell to the ground as she spoke. She had a nasty scar, running from her cheek, over the missing eye. It was hard to miss the jagged torn skin of what remained of the socket, which was only a sagging eyelid that hung half closed.

“Sadly yes, however, I think I might have an idea, give me some time and I will get you something for it.” He responded as he continued to work.

She closed her eye as she felt the soothing healing knitting the skin back together on her arms. The claw-like makes disappearing as if they were never there.

“Do excuse me...” He slid his hand under the towel to just above her waist.

She stiffened a little but soon relaxed under his touch as he channeled the essence into the wounds she had made on her stomach.

“You feel like an aura, it is the same warmth, the same feeling.” She had closed her eye again as he continued to work.

His hand slid out from the towel as he finished her healing. “Eros said the same thing, we speculated that I was created in the same manner as the auras were.”

Aveyon opened her eye with a raised brow. “Do you know how they were created?” She questioned.

He shook his head. “No, only the royal family knows... or knew. It was a heavily guarded secret, one that is probably lost to us now.”

“I do not know a great deal, given my banishment, I did not finish my training.” She agreed with his statement. “But we Alarians, we never buried our dead. With each generation the auras were handed down and the receivers only got stronger, I can speculate but I do not know the how.” Her tone was solemn as she told him what she thought to be true in little words.