Atlantic Roleplay Community Boards

[Willow Smythe]

---

Feeling winded and exhausted did not deter Willow’s recklessness. Se was never so happy after taking such a beating. The Matriarch ordered Willow not to hold hack. Her wish was granted. Willow had but one condition for the matriarch, to comply with her own demand as not to deter Willow from her own orders. They swore to attack each other as hated enemies. For the beating each delivered an enemy would have certainly been out to death if it hadn’t already been granted.
Each woman hunted her prey as if they were ravenous animals. Starting out on each end of the town, the huntresses stalked and closed in on her target. When they met no more than streaks of blue and green could be seen by the unfocused viewer.
Though radical their actions their movements were methodical. Every step, every blow was purposeful, despite constant apposing deflection.
Neither woman would have yielded. Both matched in skill and experience, Umbra surely would have lost two fighters this day, if not for the warmaster.
Willow smiled as she walked to the barracks.
As precise as our actions were our control was lacking, neither of us would have taken prisoners. As she took a deep breath a twinge of pain spasmed through her. Willow grimaced and winced but kept her pace she entered her barracks. With out a doubt Willow would need at least one vile possibly two to repair herself. She looked as if someone had made a pincushion of her.
She went toward her dark mahogany cabinet and pulled out three vials of blood and proceeded to her bedroom. She struggled with the door a bit pushing piled clothing and debris aside. With much painful effort she finally made it inside.
Willow set the vials on to te bed Slowly and gingerly she began to remove her clothing remnants and her battered armor. Undoubtedly her armor will need an untimely repair. She groaned and grunted as she took off her armor. Willow was no stranger to pain, she very much enjoyed it. Being in the worst end of a fight was almost as good as being the victor. As she pulled off her armor Willow reopened most of her healed wounds. Because of Merci’s own blood that was strewn, Willow’s wounds had already attempted to heal themselves around the gashes and holes in her armor almost fusing them together. Once free from her chain mail and leather armor fresh blood flowed through the reopened wounds seeping through her undergarments. Willow continued to fade becoming somewhat translucent. Willow gathered up the vials and walked to her mirror.
She peeled off the soggy undergarments and stood practically bare in front of the mirror. She examined the damage and thought

I haven’t lost this much blood since Fire Isle. She shook her head and began applying the contents to her midsection which was almost completely gone. From the moment the blood came in to contact she began to reform and become corporeal. She was reaching for the second vial when she heard a voice come from her mirror, a voice she hadn’t heard in years.
“The blood won’t fix everything, you know. It will repair you but it cannot complete you.”
Willow’s head jerked toward the mirror with the first vial in her hand as her only weapon. The childish voice spoke again, “ Why are you so surprised?” Willow stood there staring at the image. In place of Willow’s own reflection was a child the age of twelve, just shy of five feet. She had green eyes and pigtails on either side of her head. She stood brazenly in front of Willow with her hands on her hips Willow gasped at her twelve year old form. She shook her head to clear the image from her sight, but to no avail. She reached out and the child mirrored her. Willow shuddered at the cool temperature of the glass, surely she expected it to be warm to the touch. Once Willow was capable of speech she stated simply, “You’re dead”
The child smiled and said, “No I always have and always will live within you. I keep you alive today as I did yesterday. Our journey is only half fulfilled. Your rite of passage awaits us both, but it won’t wait forever, if you do not take it soon it will take you. You are still the same today as when I walked the lands. The child exaggerated a look over Willow’s shoulder, “Sleeping alone tonight Willow.....again?
Willow then began to feel a new pain in her right arm. The pain seemed to come from under the flesh. The mirror was twitching and moving.
She gripped her shoulder and said aloud, “Why is the mirror moving? After all this time, I thought it would have settled by now. Willow received no answer from her reflection for it had faded just has it had the day she died.
_________________
Malorn ‎(12:14 AM):
I'm an idiot