Edit 2014-12-27 : I’ve changed the paragraphing and this is all I will ever do with this one. The new, completely overhauled version can be found here : The Escape of Zerieth.
Edit 2014-11-17 : I’m thinking or rewriting this a bit…some stuff are unclear and I didn’t include everything I wanted to. I still need to think about it, though. For now, comments / critiques are still welcome.
Something that happens on Wyrdaenia, prior the real story begins.
The story itself will be fantasy with maybe another genre mixed in (I haven’t decided yet).
This is meant to be read as a “prequel” of some sorts, at least it only tells about a part of the bio of one of my crazy bitch villain…Meet Zerieth !
She gets completely fucking insane later on (even now, I can’t really say she’s “healthy”), and although nothing is truly set in stone, yet (I’m just having fun, now), I don’t think anyone would want to be her friend (at least, I wouldn’t O_o)
Just enjoy ?
And please if you have comments, critiques, etc… do not hesitate ! (but please be mature and constructive with your critque and don’t send me pointless flames…thank you :))
Zerieth, the world of Wyrdaenia and all its concepts (c) Aurore “MetalFeline” Ciholas
Please do NOT copy, use under any way, shape or form, sell, make profit of, edit, redistribute, claim as your own…
Thank you !
He didn’t speak to Zerieth. Never. At least never while they were eating. And he didn’t speak when addressing her as a general rule. He would growl, threaten, bring her down. There never really was what could be called a « conversation ». And if there was, it was always on the brink of screaming. Tonight, he sat on one end of the table, but she wasn’t allowed to be at its other end. That was for those who were « worthy » of it, and her father deemed she wasn’t enough. So she sat everywhere else around it, making sure she was never too close to him. He wanted to watch her, and her manners while she was eating. She had made sure she would fake following his orders…until she would be old enough to « escape ». As long a he was silent, it was alright for her. She didn’t want to ear for the umpteenth time how she wasn’t good enough, and how she would never fit into his culture, because, since her eastern mother decided to abandon her, and he was the only one remaining to raise her and care after her, he should decide what kind of woman she was going to be, and he never let her have a say in it. She ate fast, not taking the proper time to masticate before swallowing. She tolerated less and less to be into the same room as him.
So, once she was done, it was always the same ritual. She took away the dishes and washed them, without saying a word, after what she walked upstairs and isolated herself in her room. If she was lucky enough, he didn’t disturb her to lecture her about how she was supposed to be, and how bad she had behaved today, according to his standards and expectations.
The frontdoor creaked open. It was her father’s friend. She was told he was coming and that she was unwanted around. She didn’t like him, anyway. Hated him, even. He held the same spite towards her as her father did. She could see it in his eyes. The way they both looked at her and talked about women. It gave her the nausea. Her room was close enough and her ears sensitive enough, so that she could hear the voices and intonation used, and she could have heard the words too, but she did not want to concentrate on it to hear them. They were both laughing. She never saw her father behave like that, with her. He was always displeased. Her heart crunched with frustration, pain and anger. Why did he never treat her like this ? Instead, he was constantly aggressive, to the point she grew up afraid of him and constantly aggressive, herself. The fact she never really went to school and didn’t see new faces didn’t help develop herself, either. She didn’t really had “friends”. His excuse was that she was a “problem child”…and she might have become like that somehow, because of him. He wanted her for himself, under his command, yet constantly reminded her how much she looked like her mother, both physically and…well, he was trying his best to stifle her headstrong character. He said it looked far too much like her mother, too independent, and that he despised it because she ran away despite his pleading to stay after Zerieth has been born, and he kept pushing all the blame on her, all the pressure, all his anger, frustration and aggression.
She had wanted to go downstairs and be a part of the conversation, be a part of “something”, for once in her life. In the past, she had hoped that friend of his would see the abuse she was enduring, that he would, somehow “side” with her. But nothing happened…even worse, he was on her father’s side. And now, she knew that if she ever dared to show up, she would only collect a scornful gaze from her father, and his friend, which would turn, later on after his friend would be gone, into a full blown rage and hits from him. She gritted her teeth. She had no freedom or “love” whatsoever. He even locked her door sometimes and her room only had a smallish window through which she couldn’t pass. So, it came to the point she was now used to often sneak out of the house to see what she wasn’t normally allowed to see of the world, which consisted of good and dark places alike. Although she was preferring the bad ones. She would also go alone in the wilderness, or in some places of the city, to train her magic. But those were very few times, recently. She had been caught the last time…or so it seemed. Her father told her that he knew what she was doing because of « rumors ». She didn’t know if it was true or not. Probably just bluff, to keep her « under control ». She could feel a burning sensation in her hands. Her magic wanted to go out of her, and she didn’t control it perfectly, yet, and especially not when she was angry or upset, like now. She felt like if she touched something now, it would instantly catch on fire. So much time she hasn’t trained it seems…
She sighed, shrugged and crossed her arms behind her head, letting herself fall backwards on the bed, in an attempt to relax, and began to dwell on the possibility of going out during this night. His father sounded far too distracted to notice anything, maybe she could do something… She heard glasses clink, which meant they were probably drinking. She hoped it was strong alcohol, somehow. That he would drink so much he would directly sleep…and not beat her up, should she still be here.
She rose and began to pack up her things into a small pouch, excitation building up and her heart racing in her chest at the anticipation of evading that place, if only for a few hours. She needed to go out of her room. She opened the door, popping her head outside, to look around the house from the unlit mezzanine overlooking the living room, before going out of it. She then closed the door shut, without a sound. Both men were unaware of what she was doing, visibly too caught up into their talk. She skittered until she opened the door of a small room. That one had a big window in comparison. She opened it, and the autumnal breeze blew in her face. As well as a very light rain. She almost forgot how it felt, staying in rapture for some seconds, breathing deeply. She looked below. She was maybe 4 or 5 meters above the ground. It didn’t matter. She was a wyldaeren, a “cat folk”, like they were sometimes called. Her bones would not break easily and she had nothing to fear. She half-closed the window behind her, like she always did, and jumped down, landing gracefully, making her way towards the city.
She made her way back after a few hours, having drank in bars one or two glasses with money she stole either from her father when he wasn’t looking or from strangers in the street. She has been training her magic a little, too, and she was in a better, almost cheerful mood, and a small smirk remained on her lips. She slowly made her way to the outskirts of the city, where she was living. She could hear footsteps too, but didn’t pay attention to them, even though the town was not overcrowded, hearing footsteps or having a slight impression of being followed was not uncommon, either. She carried on but they didn’t fade. She eventually stopped herself and turned around to see what was there, pricking her ears to any sound she heard. Nothing or no one was to be seen. Usually people passed her by when she did that. After a moment, she shrugged. That must have been an echo, a coincidence…it could be anything. She resumed her walking, but she was insecure, and her ears were now orientated backwards, in the direction the sound was coming from. She repeated stopping in the middle of the road and accelerating. Something was off. Those footsteps were following her, she heard them splash on the wet ground, mimicking her every move, and she could even feel eyes peering at her. She started to feel uncomfortable. She glanced back shortly, and started to run. The footsteps did the same, albeit with a slight delay. Whoever was after her wasn’t prepared for her surge. A voice called her name, which she recognized it instantly. Her father’s friend. What was he doing here, anyway ? A ball of rage started to form in her stomach. He didn’t live in the outskirts…what kind of twisted idea made him think to go after her ? Whatever. She wasn’t going to stop. She was just hoping it was not her father who sent him after her…although, now, it seemed unlikely. She could sense him accelerating behind her, even if she didn’t look. She felt the gap closing between them, and she swore she could sense his breath on her neck. He jumped on her, and they both collapsed. Now she could clearly feel his alcoholic breathing against her neck. She squirmed out of his grip, biting and clawing at him and he squeaked when a particularly nasty one landed on his face. She pushed him aside, bringing herself back up, and he followed shortly after, yanking her roughly by the arm, and pointing to the fresh scar on his face, growling.
-”Do you realize what you did ? You tore my face, you worthless little…”
-“Who do you think you are ?!” She growled, her ears flattened backwards, and her tail flicking, as if she was going to fight. All her frustration surfaced after remembering the two men being so close to each other while she seemed to be nothing more than an embarrassment to her father. “You follow me and then you jump on me…Let me go !”
She yanked her arm roughly from his grip, clawing his arm in the process. She made a run start, again, but he firmly caught her by the arm, turning her, placing her arms behind her back and pulling her against him.
-”Your father will be enchanted to know what you did…” He smirked cruelly.
-”You have no right…” She hissed in indignation.
He pushed her forward and she bared her teeth, hissing, trying to hide the heat from her hands, which was making its way back. She knew nothing good for her could come out of it right now. He didn’t pay much attention to this. He took a pair of handcuffs from his pocket that he attached her hands with. Her eyes went wide. She was livid. She would never have thought he would do this, take some object from his profession and attach her with it. She did not have time to think about it any further. He casted a teleportation spell, and they both ended up in front of her imposing father’s house.
He was waiting for them, standing at the top of the stairs, arms crossed. In that awkward moment she could see why her mother chose him. He was handsome, physically strong, with toned muscles, a large torso…and it stopped there. She had it figured out since years that if her mother only saw him for sex and ultimately didn’t stay with him, it was probably because of his violent temper and awful attitude with women. Maybe she thought he wouldn’t hurt his own daughter. She was so wrong… now that she was grown up he even cared less about whatever he was doing to her. And, despite the fact she had inherited his strong and fit physical frame, she felt often weak and defenseless in front of him, even though her mindset had begun to change, recently. He looked at her up and down and frowned. Her ears flattened on the side and her face became tense, her tail nervously tugging between her legs in anticipation, despite herself. He uncrossed his arms and walked down the few stairs, closing the gap between the three of them.
-”Here you are ! How many times did I tell you that you have no right to go out ?!” He growled. She opened her mouth, but was cut short when he slapped her.
Her head turned sideways under its effect and her red hair flew, covering her face, she stood like that, unable to move or do anything. But she was furious, against herself for having been caught, and against them both.
Her father’s friend pushed her, releasing the grip the handcuffs had on her hands, and she almost fell over, only catching herself back before it was too late. Her father yanked her by the arm, pushing her forward towards the door. She closed her fists in a desperate attempt to suppress the heat sensation, which was growing stronger. She spun, and glowered at him, growling.
-”Why ?” She stood firmly in place, her head held low and her ears flattened backwards in anger and hatred. “Why ? Why can’t I ever simply go out ?” She demanded, louder, this time.
-”Because I told you so !” He exclaimed, moving his arms upwards. He caught her arm even more roughly, shoving her into the house and nodding to his friend. He spun and they faced each other. His face was red with anger and his jaw tense. “How dare you say things like that in front of my friend ! I told you you had no right to go out or disobey, yet you did. Do you realize how humiliati…”
She snapped, her tail flicking, her ears flattened still, interrupting him.
-”Everything is humiliating for you ! Have you thought of me for at least a second ?” She sighed. “I’m just trying to live my life !” She pleaded.
-”Enough ! If you will not obey, then I will lock you up !”
Her eyes went wide. He didn’t want to hear any of this and she felt like there was no possible discussion.
-”I can’t be locked up !” She cried out.
He walked towards her, catching her arm. She had enough of being pushed around like this.
-”You will !” He bellowed, forcing her into walking upstairs, towards her room. She cowered for some mere seconds, a weird mix of fear and rage building up inside her. The burning sensation in her hands becoming more and more intense. She suddenly stopped walking and spun, freeing her arm from his grip, suddenly out of breath. She shook her head and growled.
-”Pardon me ?” He demanded, turning her to face him. His eyes widened. Her eyes were glowing intensely with uncontrolled magic. Despite going out at night and attempting to train and learn the ways of a witch, it still haven’t been enough. She wondered why it manifested now. Why not earlier…She looked at her waist. All of her belongings that really mattered were here, into the pouch hanging by her belt. She didn’t need any more, except for food and water, maybe.
-”I really have enough of you.” He snarled, seemingly regaining his usual, cold, indifferent and overall despicable composure. Rushing after her and pushing her forward again.
-”I won’t ! You never gave me my freedom…I will take it myself !” She attempted to free herself from him again, roaring and clawing at him, landing one of her hot hand on his arm. He cried out when a part of his skin melted. She looked around her. There won’t be anything she was going to miss. She actually wanted to see it all burn to ashes. She concentrated even more onto her anger, flames forming at her hands, and she unleashed them onto the furniture, and everything else that could possibly burn. Her father lunged at her in a desperate attempt for this to stop, but she quickly dodged him, throwing more fire spells in every other possible direction. The flames were burning everything and were going wild with her rage, forming a thick, suffocating smoke. The door banged open and her father’s friend stood here, bewildered, blocking the way out. He bellowed something she did not understand. Crackles from the fire could be heard everywhere. She looked at him. He was bellowing at her. She realized she had a bloody fantasy involving him. He too, lunged at her. She did not even dodge this time. She lunged forward, roaring and tearing out his throat with her claws. Blood splattered. She ran out, her father following shortly after her, although in a rather blind fashion. He bellowed her name, looking around for her. She ran to the nearest bush, hiding behind it. She crouched. She was free, at last. She stood here, out of breath, looking at the flames which had been taking gigantic proportions, now. It fascinated her and she had her eyes wide open, as if she was afraid to miss anything. The fear started to dissipate. He would not lock her up or hurt her, now, no longer. She rose, giving a last look on the ashes that this “home” had become. She smirked, contemplating her job.
She looked around, thinking of all the things there was still to do and the world to explore. She then turned her heels and jumped in the opposite direction, towards the forest.