A plea.

[ThatFunkyBunch 2066]

Spoiler

 

༒☬A Dream☬༒
Metallic gleamed, and so did the dagger swing. Soft flesh torn away, mind locked in a dream.

Poor Ke, beset by maddening visions. Harkened great things. Peaceful needs met with crazed plee, for the return of putrid means. Did the blinding radiance decree ‘How dare thee scorn me?’ ‘Thee who remains nothing without thine needs.’

Against a harmless cage did she fail to bash her brains. Bright veins remained unscathed by marbled fangs. Peril is lost in a happy void. Growth denied so few coiled and stewed in the mania of the mind.

༒☬Awaken☬༒
Ke’makia awoke with a startled cry. Threads of ichor clinging to a dangling purple eye. Empty sockets pooled with copper smelling crimson. Fear filled her fragile mind. Why had she agreed? What cruelness did Lae inflict on her? She felt weak. For she was weak. Weak without sight. For so long she had answered the world with her strength. Refusing to give it up to anyone. Yet she had in the end. An endless quest for knowledge scorned her. She crawled forward, grasping for objects she hadn’t a clue where they lay.

Her memory remained hazy, how did she get up the stairs? She could barely find them in the underbelly of this elven city. Those white spires were unable to be seen now. Struggling to even open the door. Night pressed over Celia’in. Using walls to guide her stumbling steps. Cold frigid rains battered her face. Her hanging eye from the right socket. Besieged by horrific rains.  Pain drove her to cower.

Until she clutched her ruined eye, and tore it from the fleshy prison. She couldn’t tell the difference between consciousness and the slipping mind of unconsciousness. How long had she had her back against slick stone? How long had it taken her to find her home? The difficulty of climbing her stairs, which was once a simple task. She had taken the gift of sight for granted. She would not be broken. She would prevail through this and reclaim power herself.  Ke’makia didn’t even make it to the stairs up to her bed. She fell to the floor and was taken by Mr.Dream.

༒☬Keep Running, Runt.☬༒
Ke was the youngest of her three siblings. They had lived on the edge of Renatus territory. News of the war between human settlements meant little to the woman. Until terror struck her home. Raiders set fire to the hay roof. Their parents were murdered. So, did those bastards of Darkspire. Later known as Qua’req, fled the lands of Valah. To the tents of a land, they called Vira’ker. Life was simple. Soon a deep cold swept the lands, and the dark elves moved across the sea to a cove.

When Vira’ker fell, Ke took to the caverns of a group of Zealots. As time pushed on, she became dispelled of the religious views of these dark elves of Onyx and Renelia. Taking to the swamps. Testing her might against the few lone Uruks that had forsaken Krugmar. In time, the ker became scattered once more. Ke’makia took to life in a tent. Alone she had survived. Alone could she be mighty.

In recent years, she had found others that she could truly call kin. Envision a world of might. One that did not hide behind the fallacy of righteousness. Though now she saw nothing. She remembered what colours looked like, what the sights once were. Days turned to weeks. Once she had demanded fear, and taken blood. Now she was the subject of pity and mockery. Falling on steps. Her guiding staff was a horridly gnarled object created by a girl. The woman was bound to the horrific art project. Constantly, did others offer aid? Making her weak, feeling weak. No longer could she defend herself. Ke’makia had to rely upon others. Loathing every second of it.
༒☬Plead, Grovel, Beg☬༒

Ke’makia was a mess. Sobbing on the street, pitying eyes locked on her. But she had no idea, no idea if they were truly looking. She could hear the snickering. The tones of concern and pity. Felt the hand that guided her up and led her home. Escorted up the tower, where she was questioned, and soon left to her own devices. Ke’makia laid back into the high-rise chair. Arms splayed to each side. Alone once more, the Maehr broke back into violent sobs. Her breath was hard to steady. Her hands lashing out at cups placed on the table. Spilling wine and water over onto the cloth. Onto herself, until she crawled atop its large surface and began to weep. Curling into a ball. Holding herself like her mother once had when she was but a child.

“Please. End this. Please. Azul.” “I have seen you in my dreams, locked in those hollow depths. Please, show me you hold sway still.” “I must be strong, I refuse to.” There was silence, as the woman drew her knees closer. Doubt filled the woman's head. Weakness, she came before her lord. Useless to those who needed her. Her babblings continued. She lofted her chin towards the heavens if her head was even in the right spot. The pain of crying without eyes was not something Ke had ever planned to experience. Salty tears stinging empty sockets. Ke’makia babbled until her mind gave way and her throat was hoarse. Collapsing on the table. Plummeting into the subconscious of dreams once more. Where she had seen her Lord time and time again.

[Punished_Pup 1364]

That Wanderer stared at a reflection of herself, tired eyes as she felt depleted. Thoughts over the Ordeal she put Ke'makia through, and the mixture of emotions that coursed within herself. She recalled memory of being stuck in an abandoned Yong Ping home, in the slums where none responded to her days of crying and pleads to be saved. Believing the realization, the submission of the fact that death was going to claim her elevated her. To submit is to die, to die is to be reborn. As she looked at her own eyes within the reflection there was a.. Strange jealousy that overcame her. To be so broken like she was so long ago, like Ke'makia is currently, so that she might be graced by that sensation of growing strong from all the weakness that was within her.

"Who am I?" she inquired in the empty room..