07-16-2018, 10:45 PM
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But, as I said, time moves differently Here; as the sound of pleas falling in unison from a thousand mouths smothers my consciousness in a smooth blanket of quiet, memories come to me.
---
<I>Although I guided her to me with subtle magic that first time at the stream, I never needed to again - except once. It was not far into her journey towards 164 descendants, though it had assuredly begun: but this time, something was different. She'd always been a complacent toy for the stallions, a relative sex kitten if I could say so myself, and I knew this. I also knew the names and faces of all her earthly lovers - being as jealous as the cold and bitter winter is wont to be, though it only made our love making all the more passionate. One particular stallion had come to reproduce with her more than a couple of times; Busted was his name. Although a rather jovial fellow, the black-with-glowing-orange-tattoos stallion had an aura that simply put me at unease. When Casia mentioned hoping to bed him once more, I begged her not to: but she would not listen.
Later on, as the day melted away like the snow in spring, I could no longer await her return. I took to the skies, ever a cloud to the Beqannians, and searched for her; it was not hard to pinpoint her general location considering our intimate connection, but even with this advantage my Evil Queen managed to elude me. Descending, I took to the forest floor, my heart racing, my hands shaking. Something was wrong, and for the love of the Matriarch, I could not find her: my baby: my Casia.
Eventually, I did find her. Strewn haphazardly beneath a weeping willow, the purple mare was silent save for a whisper of breath that I knew she wished would stop. When I alighted to her side, worried hands pressing and prodding and searching for harm, she said nothing; what alone spoke were the tears, dried now on those high cheekbones, testimonies to her pride and, ultimately, her downfall.
</i>"I should have listened,"<i> came her whisper, shattered and otherworldly as she dissociated herself from the torments of her own body, post-rape. </i>"Please - just let me die."
---
Tick.
She's still staring at me with those watery brown eyes, snot running down her color-drained nose as it had down mine that day long ago: years and days and more than a century. My brow creases, I am still thinking of her as singular; and yet all around us her duplicates blink too, their warbling voices creating a catatonic wall of pitiful sound that reminds me all too much of screaming. She doesn't want to kill me - or is it that she does not want to die?
---
<i>She recovered, of course; with my help, though plenty of the strength required was found first and foremost in her own iron gut. I offered to kill the child growing in her womb, but after a moment's weakness, she threw my offer to the wayside; </i>"I want to fulfill my promise to you,"<i> she explained, </i>"Never mind making you work against your own duty."<i> She was always stronger than I was, in will and in might (though not in magic). But in love, we matched each other step for step; our stars aligned themselves without qualms.
And so the foal was born; it's gender is obscure to me now in remembering, as she had so many children that their specific qualities are all but lost to me. She remembered them well of course, reciting their comical names to me and listing those who ascended thrones. Although her mission at the time was strange and full of mystery, she took pride in her children - once they were grown, anyway. She could care less about the infants, what with there being so many of them; but in her own way, she did show them love and attention. Truth be told, she and I rarely had time to ourselves what with her becoming impregnated practically every winter, with a half-yearling in tow to boot; but we always found time to be together.
We always found time to make love.</i>
---
Tick.
It's my eyes watering now, though I scrunch up my porcelain features against the show of emotion and weakness. Despite the images flashing just behind my skull, a dread begins creeping over me: a realization that this is what the Matriarch always wanted. To exploit my weaknesses, to force me to prove my loyalty to Her and Beqanna's residents as a whole, instead of to one soul alone. Casia's purpose was always to help me Ascend, yes, but I understand now: she is the Offering. The Sacrifice.
The Matriarch's words echo in my mind:
<i>Sometimes - the Sacrifice is nearly more than you can bear.</i>
---
<i>It's spring, and her labor is here; but not in it's usual way. Despite being a large mare herself, at seventeen hands tall and with hips to match, she'd outdone herself this time. A stallion whose name is lost to me had impregnated her with a foal that threatened to buckle her bones like dry grass beneath too quick a wind, twenty hands tall bastard that he was. When she looked to me with fear in her honey-brown eyes, I could no longer stand by: dozens of births later and this had never happened before. Pressing myself to her bulging, contracting stomach, I closed my eyes and peered within her: the monstrous baby was backwards, of all things. Feeling my stomach churn, I opened my eyes and closed my fists.
It's not going to be easy, I said.
I know, she replied.
Casia... The name sounded like a gust of icy wind tossed from my lips. The baby is already dead.</i>
---
Tick.
<i>"Please, please be quiet!"</i> My hands fly up from where they'd been trembling at my sides, covering my ears though it made barely a difference. But although she could not have possibly heard my plea above the chorus of her cries, the thousands of snow-white Casia's fell silent. Ever obedient lover, ever listening dove: she'd do anything for me if I asked it of her. The skin behind my ears grows red from the sharp pressure of my nails digging in there: they dug, because they know.
She is controlled by no one - not even myself. A thread of magic strewn across to her yields me nothing; I cannot coax her to me as I have so many times before. Ten thousand eyes stare me down - they await my command, though one has already been given.
<i>Kill, or be killed. Ascend, or die.</i>
---
<i>The summer should have been glad as we had it to ourselves in the wake of her stillborn child - but of course, even I could not enjoy our orgasmic chemistry with the taste of death upon my lips. Though my wintery nature claimed many lives throughout the course of that season, this felt different: even though the child was far from being my own, it hit me hard. And it hit Casia harder. Like I said, she'd never exactly been a doting mother, but she did care: and I think that she realized just how much when she had been denied even the chance to do so for half a minute.
We spent that summer grieving, holding one another and seeking out the dark places where no one could find us. It was a different kind of intimacy, one I'd never expected to experience with my Offering; despite our instant and electric connection that day at the stream, I'd never once considered that I would find myself so hopelessly </i>in love.<i> And though she never voiced it - never speaking much at all for that matter - I knew that she felt the same way, too. I'd always been a master to serve, the source of another orgasm or at most, where she found fulfillment for her life. But in those months spent recovering from a heartache neither of us'd expected, I think we both accepted how deeply woven our roots had become. As we emerged from our hold, walking briefly again in the light until we gradually left the darkness behind altogether, something new burned across the bridge of our love. An eternal flame; damning in its brilliance.</i>
---
Tick.
<I>"I never knew that it would come to this."</i> My voice, quiet, causes tiny frame to shudder; a ripple like a wave across each of her thousands of bodies. <i>"You know I love you too, you know that I'm - I'm yours."</i>
<b>"But you're not,"</b> the babe choked, sounding distant and near all at once. <b>"You own me, Faerie - I am nothing without you. You have the power to unmake me - to kill me."</b>
---
<i>Later in life, it'd been several seasons since her last breeding. In the first few years, I'd chalked it up to nothing more than a desire to be child-free and sex-rich for once in her life since we'd met; that purple vixen was always trying to screw me hard enough to get me to forget about our little deal. It loomed over us, always: a dark shadow that tainted the purity of our love quite terribly. As almost a decade passed us by without her womb bearing fruit, the reality of that shadow took shape. I snapped; I lost my patience.
You're taking advantage of my time, I snarled one morning. I don't have forever and neither do you. I could let you age as quickly as any other whore but instead I'm here extending your life with every year that passes as you waste my time. You know that I'm a pilgrim. Why won't you just do your part.
Her eyes, shocked and hurt, flinched to me as though I'd whipped her. The children of my children are doing the work I promised to far more quickly than I could ever hope to on my own, she said after a moment. I'm sorry for wanting more time with you. But the way you talk - it makes me wonder if you even cared when Busted raped me. You probably cared more when I gave birth to a stillborn - that's why you mourned. Because you would have to wait another year to Ascend. You fucking bitch.
We slept separately that night. She wasn't right, not about all of it... But I never brought up her chastity again. One shouldn't, when they use their magicks to convince their Offering otherwise.</i>
---
Tick.
<i>"I am not going to kill you Casia,"</i> I sputter, hands dropping from my ears as my expression twists to one of incredulity. <i>"I couldn't."</i>
Shakily, a single version of herself steps forward; my heart leaps to my throat, the question of whether this one is <i>really her</i> swarming my mind. A steam of cold sweat rises from this filly's back, a telltale sign of hypothermia, the disease which had brought on my own demise.
<b>"I'll die in vain then. Everything I did, all my life, was for you."</b> That little voice, so innocent and pure, darkens my heart. My hand reaches out for her instinctually. She flinches away. <b>"I don't want to die. But without you, there is no place for me back in Beqanna."</b>
<I>"Shut up."</i> My hand goes towards her again, with more force this time. Equally determined, little Casia peels back her lips and bites my fingers. The bone bruises instantly, the skin tearing and revealing silver blood that drips from me. It's metallic sheen mirrors the thousands of foals gathered around me, though upside down, as if in a parallel universe where this wasn't actually happening. My thumb slides forward into the blood, swirling it around and painting my white skin with it dazedly.
<i>"You bit me."</i>
<b>"Please, Faerie,"</b> came the warble of a thousand voices. <b>"Kill me."</b>
It's not the first time she's changed her mind so flippantly.
---
<I><b>"I want out."</b> It's early on in our pact, one of the first half dozen pregnancies swelling my Evil Queen's sides. She'd been restless lately, full of strange hormones that hit her particularly hard due to a slight sickness on my behalf. Experimenting with freezing temperatures during sex while pregnant was probably not advisable of us, but we'd never been exactly </i>rule followers<i> before.
</i>"Too bad,"<i> I scoffed in return, incredulous. </i>"I'm not letting you out of my sights for the rest of eternity, and if you don't think that these five children will do the job of reaching 164 descendants eventually, then your damn wrong."<i>
<b>"So what?"</b> She huffed, turning her shoulder towards me. <b>"At least I won't have to be this fat ever again."</b>
Smirking, I took the proffered shoulder as an invitation to come closer. With the most delicate of touches, my fingertips slipped along the slope of her hindquarters, tracing the sinews of her violet muscles along her spine, across the planes of her shoulder, until the found themselves lightly grasping the thin membrane of her ear. She tried to look away from me, but it didn't last long. I waited a moment longer; forced her to stare at me.
</i>ZAP.<i>
Whimpering ecstatically and in full submission, my little princess barely managed to stay standing as an orgasm burst through her instantaneously at a single one of my whims. The smirk I'd unsheathed morphed into an outright grin as I gazed at her trembling figure, my own stature completely unphased.
</i>"Don't tell me you could go an eternity without <i>that,</i> my love,"<i> I chuckled.
<b>"You're right,"</b> came her heaving, shuddering reply. <b>"And damn you for it."</b></i>
---
Tick.
<i>"Fuck you,"</i> I yell, a surge of anger and passion raising my voice far past what I'd meant it to be. Stepping towards her again, I reach for her ear in a vain attempt to remind her of what I'd promised back then, and every day from there on out: paradise, her and I, the World. But the sniveling foal only pins her ears at my advances, the thousand duplicates bristling their hides as I fight against <i>her</i> for once, instead of the other way around.
<b>"If you don't, then I will."</b> It's still the same one slightly-forward standing filly that speaks: but in the next moment, their actions are unified.
In the same breath, the sea of white foals steps towards me. Their advance is not quick, but it doesn't need to be. In her desire to force my hand and to force my Ascension, the one thing she thinks I want more than her, Casia clambers atop herself. Foal after foal clambers and climbs atop the one in front of it, forcing it to collapse, and on and on until a solid wall of dead and dying mini-mes build itself around me. Her mouths reach for my skin and tear at it incessantly, higher and higher as the mound of bodies rises; I raise my arms to protect myself, silent at first but then protesting and then, screaming. Silver runs across the bodies at my feet, and down the white of my skin, casting me in a grey I've never worn before.
It's a slow death that she has planned for me, as weak and hypothermic as she is. As I'm struggling against her, something inside of me twinges; she deserves a quick death. Despite the flames in my stomach that warn me against any harm dealt to her after all we've been through, the rest of me solidifies. My empathy drains, or at least, lessens; a dead-hearted, sacrificial expression occupies my eyes.
<i>"Fuck you."</i>
With a breath, the mound of bodies and all those that were approaching and blown away by a powerful gust of winter wind; it relieves the pressure and the biting for a moment, and though they duplicates stagger and moan as they attempt to regain their footing, it's as if my attack has only produced more of them.
<B>"You always have, my love..."</b></br></br><div class="toni_quote">casia</div> </div></div></center>
Word count: 2671
Prompts answered:
*This should be the perspective of your they, mainly (written from Faerie's perspective)
*What is the purpose of your creation? (Casia is the Offering; the Sacrifice; the tool for Ascension)
*Do they act on their own free will or are they controlled somehow,if so how? (Acts of her own free will)
*DETAILS (Up to your discretion)
*End your chapter with your subject in action (She tryna kill the Faerie)
But, as I said, time moves differently Here; as the sound of pleas falling in unison from a thousand mouths smothers my consciousness in a smooth blanket of quiet, memories come to me.
---
<I>Although I guided her to me with subtle magic that first time at the stream, I never needed to again - except once. It was not far into her journey towards 164 descendants, though it had assuredly begun: but this time, something was different. She'd always been a complacent toy for the stallions, a relative sex kitten if I could say so myself, and I knew this. I also knew the names and faces of all her earthly lovers - being as jealous as the cold and bitter winter is wont to be, though it only made our love making all the more passionate. One particular stallion had come to reproduce with her more than a couple of times; Busted was his name. Although a rather jovial fellow, the black-with-glowing-orange-tattoos stallion had an aura that simply put me at unease. When Casia mentioned hoping to bed him once more, I begged her not to: but she would not listen.
Later on, as the day melted away like the snow in spring, I could no longer await her return. I took to the skies, ever a cloud to the Beqannians, and searched for her; it was not hard to pinpoint her general location considering our intimate connection, but even with this advantage my Evil Queen managed to elude me. Descending, I took to the forest floor, my heart racing, my hands shaking. Something was wrong, and for the love of the Matriarch, I could not find her: my baby: my Casia.
Eventually, I did find her. Strewn haphazardly beneath a weeping willow, the purple mare was silent save for a whisper of breath that I knew she wished would stop. When I alighted to her side, worried hands pressing and prodding and searching for harm, she said nothing; what alone spoke were the tears, dried now on those high cheekbones, testimonies to her pride and, ultimately, her downfall.
</i>"I should have listened,"<i> came her whisper, shattered and otherworldly as she dissociated herself from the torments of her own body, post-rape. </i>"Please - just let me die."
---
Tick.
She's still staring at me with those watery brown eyes, snot running down her color-drained nose as it had down mine that day long ago: years and days and more than a century. My brow creases, I am still thinking of her as singular; and yet all around us her duplicates blink too, their warbling voices creating a catatonic wall of pitiful sound that reminds me all too much of screaming. She doesn't want to kill me - or is it that she does not want to die?
---
<i>She recovered, of course; with my help, though plenty of the strength required was found first and foremost in her own iron gut. I offered to kill the child growing in her womb, but after a moment's weakness, she threw my offer to the wayside; </i>"I want to fulfill my promise to you,"<i> she explained, </i>"Never mind making you work against your own duty."<i> She was always stronger than I was, in will and in might (though not in magic). But in love, we matched each other step for step; our stars aligned themselves without qualms.
And so the foal was born; it's gender is obscure to me now in remembering, as she had so many children that their specific qualities are all but lost to me. She remembered them well of course, reciting their comical names to me and listing those who ascended thrones. Although her mission at the time was strange and full of mystery, she took pride in her children - once they were grown, anyway. She could care less about the infants, what with there being so many of them; but in her own way, she did show them love and attention. Truth be told, she and I rarely had time to ourselves what with her becoming impregnated practically every winter, with a half-yearling in tow to boot; but we always found time to be together.
We always found time to make love.</i>
---
Tick.
It's my eyes watering now, though I scrunch up my porcelain features against the show of emotion and weakness. Despite the images flashing just behind my skull, a dread begins creeping over me: a realization that this is what the Matriarch always wanted. To exploit my weaknesses, to force me to prove my loyalty to Her and Beqanna's residents as a whole, instead of to one soul alone. Casia's purpose was always to help me Ascend, yes, but I understand now: she is the Offering. The Sacrifice.
The Matriarch's words echo in my mind:
<i>Sometimes - the Sacrifice is nearly more than you can bear.</i>
---
<i>It's spring, and her labor is here; but not in it's usual way. Despite being a large mare herself, at seventeen hands tall and with hips to match, she'd outdone herself this time. A stallion whose name is lost to me had impregnated her with a foal that threatened to buckle her bones like dry grass beneath too quick a wind, twenty hands tall bastard that he was. When she looked to me with fear in her honey-brown eyes, I could no longer stand by: dozens of births later and this had never happened before. Pressing myself to her bulging, contracting stomach, I closed my eyes and peered within her: the monstrous baby was backwards, of all things. Feeling my stomach churn, I opened my eyes and closed my fists.
It's not going to be easy, I said.
I know, she replied.
Casia... The name sounded like a gust of icy wind tossed from my lips. The baby is already dead.</i>
---
Tick.
<i>"Please, please be quiet!"</i> My hands fly up from where they'd been trembling at my sides, covering my ears though it made barely a difference. But although she could not have possibly heard my plea above the chorus of her cries, the thousands of snow-white Casia's fell silent. Ever obedient lover, ever listening dove: she'd do anything for me if I asked it of her. The skin behind my ears grows red from the sharp pressure of my nails digging in there: they dug, because they know.
She is controlled by no one - not even myself. A thread of magic strewn across to her yields me nothing; I cannot coax her to me as I have so many times before. Ten thousand eyes stare me down - they await my command, though one has already been given.
<i>Kill, or be killed. Ascend, or die.</i>
---
<i>The summer should have been glad as we had it to ourselves in the wake of her stillborn child - but of course, even I could not enjoy our orgasmic chemistry with the taste of death upon my lips. Though my wintery nature claimed many lives throughout the course of that season, this felt different: even though the child was far from being my own, it hit me hard. And it hit Casia harder. Like I said, she'd never exactly been a doting mother, but she did care: and I think that she realized just how much when she had been denied even the chance to do so for half a minute.
We spent that summer grieving, holding one another and seeking out the dark places where no one could find us. It was a different kind of intimacy, one I'd never expected to experience with my Offering; despite our instant and electric connection that day at the stream, I'd never once considered that I would find myself so hopelessly </i>in love.<i> And though she never voiced it - never speaking much at all for that matter - I knew that she felt the same way, too. I'd always been a master to serve, the source of another orgasm or at most, where she found fulfillment for her life. But in those months spent recovering from a heartache neither of us'd expected, I think we both accepted how deeply woven our roots had become. As we emerged from our hold, walking briefly again in the light until we gradually left the darkness behind altogether, something new burned across the bridge of our love. An eternal flame; damning in its brilliance.</i>
---
Tick.
<I>"I never knew that it would come to this."</i> My voice, quiet, causes tiny frame to shudder; a ripple like a wave across each of her thousands of bodies. <i>"You know I love you too, you know that I'm - I'm yours."</i>
<b>"But you're not,"</b> the babe choked, sounding distant and near all at once. <b>"You own me, Faerie - I am nothing without you. You have the power to unmake me - to kill me."</b>
---
<i>Later in life, it'd been several seasons since her last breeding. In the first few years, I'd chalked it up to nothing more than a desire to be child-free and sex-rich for once in her life since we'd met; that purple vixen was always trying to screw me hard enough to get me to forget about our little deal. It loomed over us, always: a dark shadow that tainted the purity of our love quite terribly. As almost a decade passed us by without her womb bearing fruit, the reality of that shadow took shape. I snapped; I lost my patience.
You're taking advantage of my time, I snarled one morning. I don't have forever and neither do you. I could let you age as quickly as any other whore but instead I'm here extending your life with every year that passes as you waste my time. You know that I'm a pilgrim. Why won't you just do your part.
Her eyes, shocked and hurt, flinched to me as though I'd whipped her. The children of my children are doing the work I promised to far more quickly than I could ever hope to on my own, she said after a moment. I'm sorry for wanting more time with you. But the way you talk - it makes me wonder if you even cared when Busted raped me. You probably cared more when I gave birth to a stillborn - that's why you mourned. Because you would have to wait another year to Ascend. You fucking bitch.
We slept separately that night. She wasn't right, not about all of it... But I never brought up her chastity again. One shouldn't, when they use their magicks to convince their Offering otherwise.</i>
---
Tick.
<i>"I am not going to kill you Casia,"</i> I sputter, hands dropping from my ears as my expression twists to one of incredulity. <i>"I couldn't."</i>
Shakily, a single version of herself steps forward; my heart leaps to my throat, the question of whether this one is <i>really her</i> swarming my mind. A steam of cold sweat rises from this filly's back, a telltale sign of hypothermia, the disease which had brought on my own demise.
<b>"I'll die in vain then. Everything I did, all my life, was for you."</b> That little voice, so innocent and pure, darkens my heart. My hand reaches out for her instinctually. She flinches away. <b>"I don't want to die. But without you, there is no place for me back in Beqanna."</b>
<I>"Shut up."</i> My hand goes towards her again, with more force this time. Equally determined, little Casia peels back her lips and bites my fingers. The bone bruises instantly, the skin tearing and revealing silver blood that drips from me. It's metallic sheen mirrors the thousands of foals gathered around me, though upside down, as if in a parallel universe where this wasn't actually happening. My thumb slides forward into the blood, swirling it around and painting my white skin with it dazedly.
<i>"You bit me."</i>
<b>"Please, Faerie,"</b> came the warble of a thousand voices. <b>"Kill me."</b>
It's not the first time she's changed her mind so flippantly.
---
<I><b>"I want out."</b> It's early on in our pact, one of the first half dozen pregnancies swelling my Evil Queen's sides. She'd been restless lately, full of strange hormones that hit her particularly hard due to a slight sickness on my behalf. Experimenting with freezing temperatures during sex while pregnant was probably not advisable of us, but we'd never been exactly </i>rule followers<i> before.
</i>"Too bad,"<i> I scoffed in return, incredulous. </i>"I'm not letting you out of my sights for the rest of eternity, and if you don't think that these five children will do the job of reaching 164 descendants eventually, then your damn wrong."<i>
<b>"So what?"</b> She huffed, turning her shoulder towards me. <b>"At least I won't have to be this fat ever again."</b>
Smirking, I took the proffered shoulder as an invitation to come closer. With the most delicate of touches, my fingertips slipped along the slope of her hindquarters, tracing the sinews of her violet muscles along her spine, across the planes of her shoulder, until the found themselves lightly grasping the thin membrane of her ear. She tried to look away from me, but it didn't last long. I waited a moment longer; forced her to stare at me.
</i>ZAP.<i>
Whimpering ecstatically and in full submission, my little princess barely managed to stay standing as an orgasm burst through her instantaneously at a single one of my whims. The smirk I'd unsheathed morphed into an outright grin as I gazed at her trembling figure, my own stature completely unphased.
</i>"Don't tell me you could go an eternity without <i>that,</i> my love,"<i> I chuckled.
<b>"You're right,"</b> came her heaving, shuddering reply. <b>"And damn you for it."</b></i>
---
Tick.
<i>"Fuck you,"</i> I yell, a surge of anger and passion raising my voice far past what I'd meant it to be. Stepping towards her again, I reach for her ear in a vain attempt to remind her of what I'd promised back then, and every day from there on out: paradise, her and I, the World. But the sniveling foal only pins her ears at my advances, the thousand duplicates bristling their hides as I fight against <i>her</i> for once, instead of the other way around.
<b>"If you don't, then I will."</b> It's still the same one slightly-forward standing filly that speaks: but in the next moment, their actions are unified.
In the same breath, the sea of white foals steps towards me. Their advance is not quick, but it doesn't need to be. In her desire to force my hand and to force my Ascension, the one thing she thinks I want more than her, Casia clambers atop herself. Foal after foal clambers and climbs atop the one in front of it, forcing it to collapse, and on and on until a solid wall of dead and dying mini-mes build itself around me. Her mouths reach for my skin and tear at it incessantly, higher and higher as the mound of bodies rises; I raise my arms to protect myself, silent at first but then protesting and then, screaming. Silver runs across the bodies at my feet, and down the white of my skin, casting me in a grey I've never worn before.
It's a slow death that she has planned for me, as weak and hypothermic as she is. As I'm struggling against her, something inside of me twinges; she deserves a quick death. Despite the flames in my stomach that warn me against any harm dealt to her after all we've been through, the rest of me solidifies. My empathy drains, or at least, lessens; a dead-hearted, sacrificial expression occupies my eyes.
<i>"Fuck you."</i>
With a breath, the mound of bodies and all those that were approaching and blown away by a powerful gust of winter wind; it relieves the pressure and the biting for a moment, and though they duplicates stagger and moan as they attempt to regain their footing, it's as if my attack has only produced more of them.
<B>"You always have, my love..."</b></br></br><div class="toni_quote">casia</div> </div></div></center>
Word count: 2671
Prompts answered:
*This should be the perspective of your they, mainly (written from Faerie's perspective)
*What is the purpose of your creation? (Casia is the Offering; the Sacrifice; the tool for Ascension)
*Do they act on their own free will or are they controlled somehow,if so how? (Acts of her own free will)
*DETAILS (Up to your discretion)
*End your chapter with your subject in action (She tryna kill the Faerie)