?Guard your Mind.?
The words would haunt her as she stirred from a restless fit of sleep. Normally nestled against the chest of her Remedy, her Jackson would keep the nightmares at bay and her spirit at peace but tonight she could not shake that feeling.
There was a disturbance in the spring feeding whispers in her mind ever since the seasons had changed. She wondered on it as she questioned as much the Valendria Witch curse. Would the legend and the curse stay and hold true even for the sister of Light and the sister of Dark?
Krysanthe moved in hopes to not disturb him as she tiptoed out of the room, soundless on her dainty feet as she paused only for a moment to draw on a robe. Since leaving the Circus and being freed of the manipulation of the Straw Man and the Palm Reader she had kept such a restless spirit. Mostly she was able to hide it from Jackson.
A quiet sigh was exhaled as she breathed in the night air and felt that much more soothed by it. The quiet calm of the glen had helped bring at least some small measure of peace to her spirit but her tranquility often came from the illusions her mind would create.
Laniandra had ever had the favor of the demon touched, even as she had carried their Blade and now bonded to the Demon, Kaleb her powers would only grow and strengthen. The darkness, the shadows, the twilight beasts would ever be hers to know and command, control and manipulate to her will. She was ever a woman of midnight desire and black silk.
Krysanthe understood that she was just the light side of her sister?s powers, wielder of that angelic blade she knew that her soul carried the light and that she would be their Fallen Star. A sister of light and a sister of dark were Krysanthe and Laniandra, yet even now Krysanthe had to question if a future would be found for angels and demons in the blood of a witch.
Even chosen the grace of favoritism could not save them every time. Heavy hearted she walked barefooted in the forest as her own mind crafted an illusion to bring to her such tranquility. She would sit upon the seat of the wooden swing even as it was forged from the boughs and vines of the tree before her.
A child?s whim would soothe her as she began to swing, her legs moving back and forth as that swing moved in the air and brought the wind to her to caress the golden starlight of her hair.
Laniandra had bonded to a Warlock and had been bound by blood and body and mark to her demon consort and maybe that would save her from the curse.
But Krysanthe? there had been no bond, no claim of blood or mark and she wondered if even the giving of flesh would promise salvation with her Remedy.
She remembered the Circus and being up so high above and how she wished nothing more then to fly. At that moment on the swing forged of her mind she could dream she could fly and that she and her Remedy would be free of that curse.
Krysanthe just couldn?t tear her mind away from wicked curse that the Three Elders of the witches of Valendria had cursed all of the Valendria witches with.
All witches of Valendria were bound to leave their men, sometimes kill their men to be free of them, if only to return to the Coven.
They were honor bound and tied by blood oath, they had no choice? it was written in their blood.
The truth of it weighed so heavy and Krysanthe only would swing higher as if in hopes that she could escape that damnable fate. She had loved him from the moment she saw him, had dreamed of him before she even knew of him and yet she had catered to a whim of make believe in happily ever after.
Silly Krysanthe should have known? happily ever after did not exist for Valendria witches.
The words would haunt her as she stirred from a restless fit of sleep. Normally nestled against the chest of her Remedy, her Jackson would keep the nightmares at bay and her spirit at peace but tonight she could not shake that feeling.
There was a disturbance in the spring feeding whispers in her mind ever since the seasons had changed. She wondered on it as she questioned as much the Valendria Witch curse. Would the legend and the curse stay and hold true even for the sister of Light and the sister of Dark?
Krysanthe moved in hopes to not disturb him as she tiptoed out of the room, soundless on her dainty feet as she paused only for a moment to draw on a robe. Since leaving the Circus and being freed of the manipulation of the Straw Man and the Palm Reader she had kept such a restless spirit. Mostly she was able to hide it from Jackson.
A quiet sigh was exhaled as she breathed in the night air and felt that much more soothed by it. The quiet calm of the glen had helped bring at least some small measure of peace to her spirit but her tranquility often came from the illusions her mind would create.
Laniandra had ever had the favor of the demon touched, even as she had carried their Blade and now bonded to the Demon, Kaleb her powers would only grow and strengthen. The darkness, the shadows, the twilight beasts would ever be hers to know and command, control and manipulate to her will. She was ever a woman of midnight desire and black silk.
Krysanthe understood that she was just the light side of her sister?s powers, wielder of that angelic blade she knew that her soul carried the light and that she would be their Fallen Star. A sister of light and a sister of dark were Krysanthe and Laniandra, yet even now Krysanthe had to question if a future would be found for angels and demons in the blood of a witch.
Even chosen the grace of favoritism could not save them every time. Heavy hearted she walked barefooted in the forest as her own mind crafted an illusion to bring to her such tranquility. She would sit upon the seat of the wooden swing even as it was forged from the boughs and vines of the tree before her.
A child?s whim would soothe her as she began to swing, her legs moving back and forth as that swing moved in the air and brought the wind to her to caress the golden starlight of her hair.
Laniandra had bonded to a Warlock and had been bound by blood and body and mark to her demon consort and maybe that would save her from the curse.
But Krysanthe? there had been no bond, no claim of blood or mark and she wondered if even the giving of flesh would promise salvation with her Remedy.
She remembered the Circus and being up so high above and how she wished nothing more then to fly. At that moment on the swing forged of her mind she could dream she could fly and that she and her Remedy would be free of that curse.
Krysanthe just couldn?t tear her mind away from wicked curse that the Three Elders of the witches of Valendria had cursed all of the Valendria witches with.
All witches of Valendria were bound to leave their men, sometimes kill their men to be free of them, if only to return to the Coven.
They were honor bound and tied by blood oath, they had no choice? it was written in their blood.
The truth of it weighed so heavy and Krysanthe only would swing higher as if in hopes that she could escape that damnable fate. She had loved him from the moment she saw him, had dreamed of him before she even knew of him and yet she had catered to a whim of make believe in happily ever after.
Silly Krysanthe should have known? happily ever after did not exist for Valendria witches.