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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    demons from the past; tarnished
    #1

    Iset was beginning to remember.

    The stark contrast between the harmony and companionship of the Dale and the herd from where she came were being pressed painfully into her heart. The world she had thought was one way, was in fact, entirely different. Not only different, but horrifyingly wrong. It might seem strange that a being would think abuse was normal, but if that is the only life one has known, there is no comparison.

    You fail at even the simplest tasks, Isetnofret. If you didn't have us to take care of you, no you would die. No one would take an idiot like you in.

    Words from the past beat within her chest like frantic butterflies. She had thought the disdain of her parents was something all children held. She had truly believed that sharp words and dull blows were simply the way things were. To survive, she accepted her life.

    You're so stupid, girl. Will you ever get it right?

    But now. It was almost worse knowing that blackness clouded her childhood. The black mare could no longer pretend even though she desperately wanted to do so. Mumbling a transparent excuse, Iset had left the Dale to wander. Above all, she didn't want her shame to embarrass her newfound family. She would leave until she could lock the horror she had known back into her soul.

    If you think you're special, you're wrong. There is nothing about you to love.

    She wandered, and as much as she tried, the filth that was her old life would not be hidden away. The rotting, festering truth had been revealed and it wasn't leaving.

    Worst of all, she could no longer tell what were her own thoughts and which were the thoughts her family had instilled in her. Iset's natural friendliness warred with the deep despair she felt as her love for her family was revealed to be a tattered curtain.

    She stood alone along the tree line, trying desperately to keep the memories from her past stifled. Anguish warred with the long practiced repression she knew so well. It would take only a push either way for her to tip. Her head hung low and she was unaware of any but her mental torture.

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