She could already hear the man's screams. The dungeon smelled damp and dusty, and the stone walls were always some degree of wet. What was the man blubbering about? Probably how he had a wife, about his poor, poor children. About how he couldn't die. Maybe he had information he thought was valuable. Calla had heard it all.
"Eira. What is the man's cell?"
“Three…” She said through gritted teeth. Oh, the king knew how to piss her off and he’d done it well today. Maybe it was because she had had a mission that morning, or she had to leave Calla soon becuase of one that had made her agitated this morning, she didn’t know. But she knew she wanted to smash the nearest persons head in.
"Thank you." Calla walked over to the cell and opened the door. The man looked up in confusion at her. She was a small girl with a white blindfold tied over her eyes. What could she do?
Calla crouched down beside him, murmuring a soft prayer. "I'm sorry," she whispered, placing a trembling hand on the man and placing the other hand over her ear so the screams would be silenced out. Oh, and scream he did. The ear-splitting shrieks were worse than she could've imagined and she stood there, hand placed on the man's shoulder, listening to him beg and scream. Anything for the pain to stop. Anything.
Eira listened to his screams from outside the cell, drinking them in. How she wished it was her doing that and not Calla. Eira leaned her head against the wall, closed her eyes and sighed through her nose. Waiting for Calla to come out.
The man dropped to the ground, twitching and she decided it was time to let go. Calla touched her arm, feeling for a new scar and feeling her heart drop when there was one. "Eira. Escort me to my bedchambers, please." She brushed off her dress and walked out of the cell, locking it behind her and feeling her throat close up.
Eira did as her princess instructed, leading her back to her rooms. She didn’t speak until she was at the door, “If I’m no longer needed, highness, am I free to go spar?”
(Is anyone active?)
(I am but idk what to do)
(This is just an idea but maybe Eira goes on a mission or something, gets hurt and like your character finds her? Idk)
Eira set out that evening, dressed in her usual back and purple outfit, daggers strapped to her side and a sword sitting int he grove of her spine. She had one objective, infiltrate the Anahera camp. Something she had been meaning to do for a while.
(Hope this is okay so you guys can join in…)
(Heyo)
(Could I join this? It looks awesome!)
(I have an RP that I wanted to make that sounds similar.)
(Umm, the person who is supposed to be running is away for two weeks so idk)
(Yo, I'm here for 2 minutes, and sure, Ness, you can join, I'll have to open it again so you can have a soulmate, unless you want to be without a soulmate, or I can get someone to make a second character. Any volunteers?)
(I can make a second character if you like?)
(Guess what! I'm back early! But um.. . . I leave for another five day trip on the 30th)
(And yeah, that sounds good, @Carrots)
(Ayyyyyee, I’ll make a character now then since I’m here)
Calla sat down on her bed and leaned back, touching the new scar on her arm. Father would've proud. After all, the Royal Family was expected to have the largest scar count. She wondered how many scars Eira had. Or anyone working in the palace, really.
She held out her hand and touched her wrist, where she knew there was a black stain. It was too bad she'd never see who would touch it. Kyan would see the person who touched it. But he wouldn't care. "Love is a weakness," he'd sneer, pressing his back against the throne so heavily laden with jewels and gold.
But there'd been a time when Kyan had been so happy and hopeful and in love. Calla remembered the days when Kyan would lead her out into the meadows behind the palace and tell her he was going to run away.
"I can't be king, Calla, I just can't." He'd flopped onto his back, staring at the clouds in the sky, pulling down Calla so she could at least feel the sunlight on her face, his face contorting in pain until he let go.
Why not?" She'd asked, holding onto the grass and loving the feeling of the prickly blades pressing against her skin.
Kyan had sighed. A big, dramatic sigh. "I want to find love, Calla. I'm not so sure that I should be in Rewera. I don't want to have scars or be king or deny love. I want. . . I want to be free. Like the birds."
What had changed him? There'd been a night, where Kyan had tried to run away, but their parents had found him. He'd never been the same afterwards.
Eira had gone to spar, let out her anger on any poor soul there. Any warrior who was brave enough to face her. She would take them all if necessary. All at the same gods damned time.
All the while the words of her father ranger through her brain,
”Useless girl. You cannot feel love? That is a useless emotion you will never need in your life.” “Why’d you marry Ma then?” She’d asked him, “Because we need more warriors in Rewera…. and you will be the royal families best warrior when you are old enough.”
And she’d done that. Cut love out of her life and trained everyday for this position. To be the best. But even so she cold never impress her old, or new king. No matter how hard she trained and fought.
She hoped the king was watching…. but he never watched her train, never saw how hard she worked. She killed the man in front of her.
(I had an idea for Ferran, I was thinking that maybe he could have the power to relieve pain with touch as long as they're still touching, so maybe the king (Kyan) captures him and makes him help Calla)
(Thoughts?)
(Sounds good to me!)
(Nice!)
"Your highness. Sources say there's something that might help the princess." A guard approached Kyan, a scroll in his hands.
Kyan raised a brow, ripping the scroll from the guard's hands. "What is it?" His heart started to beat rapidly and he held the rush of excitement down. I don't love anyone. Not even my sister. I just want to help her out a little bit. That's all. I don't care about her.
"Someone in the Anahera tribe. They have the power to heal."
"Really?" Kyan was intrigued. The last person to have a healing power had died centuries ago. "Get whoever this is and bring them to the palace. Try not to kill their family and do it as quietly as possible. I don't want the queen of Anahera to be breathing down my back if she finds out."
(What should Eira do?)
(Let's have Eira and Calla meet up)
(Royal dinner, perhaps?)
(Sure thing, what me to write something for it?)
(Sure)
Eira had been invited to a royal dinner with Calla, her brother and any other Lords and Lady’s that would be joining them. She now had a new scar on her other eye, matching the one already there.
She had chosen a simple dark purple shirt with silver patterns round the neck, dark pants and shoes. She looked very much like a man but that was how she liked it. She wore no jewellery and soon set off to the dining hall, where Calla had told Eira to meet her five minutes before entering.
The sound of her shoes on the marble floor was one of the only sounds she could hear until she drew near to the hall, where talking filled the near silence.
Eira swallowed her nerves, putting up the warrior demeanour and rounded the corner to see Calla.
Calla was wearing the same dress from before, standing rigidly and clasping her hands behind her back. She heard the sound of footsteps and turned sharply towards the sound. "Eira? Is that you?"
(Could I join this? It looks awesome!)
(I have an RP that I wanted to make that sounds similar.)
(Oh wait, Nessie, @Carrot's soulmate deleted their account, so you can make someone for Eira)