The man's three eyes blinked at her slowly, it had markings, similar to eyeliner as the people in the far desert of the south have, around it's eyes as it tilted it's head, it didn't speak to her, just nodded once, it had short, slick, grayish blue hair, just like in cat form, though it was a bit tangled, he stood up, a bit unsteadily, wavering like there was a wind before reaching for her, palm out with exploring eyes, it reached for her forehead and paused for a moment. It was staring deeply at her, almost like it saw through her before it paused, to look back at the Harpy, who waved her wings, "Just do it" She groaned and the boy pressed his hand against her forehead.
((Just a heads up, trigger warnings for abuse and language in this post.))
Alaya watched Solem curiously, simply sitting quietly, observing him. The way he seemed to open her up and read her with only a look sent a chill over her skin, and her heart skipped a beat as adrenaline began leaking into her mind, brightening colours, sharpening smells, enhancing her hearing, making her feel more
alive. The young girl nearly moaned from the feeling of it, her addiction being fed, one danger after another. She almost didn't hear Lysea speak, but she certainly felt Solem's touch. You'd have to be dead not to.
Pain.
That was her first thought. A crack of pain lightning across her skull, the rest of her body ceased to exist as the probing fingers of pain found their way into every nook and cranny of her mind, ripping her head apart. Alaya locked up, unable to scream, cry, jerk away, or anything. All of her muscles froze solid as the pain overwhelmed her, going from a burning red behind her eyelids to white hot.
Then the memories began.
As if she was being torn out of riptide, she was pulled into the first one, seeing it through her own eyes.
Sparks from a huge bonfire rose high into the night sky, becoming tiny stars to burn out against the heavens, living and dying in but a moment. Tambourines, drums, and other instruments beat out an animalistic rhythm. Bare feet on hardened ground pounded along as joyous voices were raised to the sky. Alaya's view directed downwards, to see a richly layered skirt, hung with bells and sparkling gold strands, and a simple white peasant top beneath a carefully crafted leather corset. She goes to lift her skirt in wonder, and notices her hand is shaking. Badly.
This Alaya of the past is distracted from her nervousness as light, quick footsteps approach her. A beautiful dark skinned girl, arrayed out in similar attire to Alaya, flashes her a bright smile, golden eyes sparkling.
"There she is! Woman of the hour. How does it feel to finally be all grown up?"
A choked noise comes out of Alaya's lips, perhaps it was supposed to be a laugh.
"Not a lot different, honestly."
"Nonsense!" The girl comes up and easily takes Alaya's hand, sending the already-nervous girl's heart beating quickly as she steals a look at her.
"Ixa, I-" Alaya begins, but is cut off as Ixa excitedly begins talking. Clearly the two have been friends for a long time.
"Sixteen years old! Gods, I remember mine. It was so wonderful, I felt like I was floating. Oh! Just wait until you try honey wine for the first time, it's-"
Alaya cuts her babbling friend off, clumsily pressing her lips to Ixa's.
Ixa freezes, and Alaya pulls back, face red.
"I was trying to tell you I love you."
Silence reigned, Ixa's eyes flickering over Alaya's face, seeing if she was genuine.
Apparently she was satisfied with her answer, because she took Alaya's other hand and spoke quietly.
"Kiss me again."
Alaya barely had time to register what had just happened, the reliving of the memory, before she was violently dragged into the next one.
Alaya was in a middling room, the air cool against her skin. The walls looked to be chiseled straight out of a mountain. She was laying out carved wooden plates, worn with use, but still solid and well cared for. A footstep sounded behind her, and a hand touched her lower back lightly, resting there with familiarity. Alaya's face heats slightly, and she sets the final plate and turns with a smile, into Ixa's arms. Ixa grins and nuzzles her neck teasingly, wrapping her arms around Alaya's waist.
"Careful, my darling, it's almost dinner time. Anyone could walk through that door."
"Aye, they could," Ixa replied in a playful tone, planting soft kisses on Alaya's fair skin.
"They could catch us," Alaya continued, as if reading from a script, giggling slightly as Ixa's lips brushed her neck. This was obviously a conversation they had had many times before.
"Aye, they could," Ixa repeated, her fingers lifting Alaya's shirt slightly and brushing against her skin, raising goosebumps on Alaya's lower back. Alaya shivered, and Ixa's eyes sparked a little.
"I know somewhere they wouldn't catch us~" She said, voice soft, lips curving in an inviting smile.
"W-where's that?" Alaya leaned her body against Ixa's, a hand beginning to explore the young woman's curves shyly.
Ixa opened her mouth to answer, but just then the heavy wooden door leading outside slammed open, letting the orangey evening light stream onto the two girls as they lept apart.
"What the HELL do you think you were doing??"
A huge, burly man with a thick, unkempt beard and frame layered with muscle yelled to Alaya, his eyes glassy. The smell of alcohol washed in with the evening breeze, making the two girls gag. A bottle, half empty, hung loosely from the man's hand. He glowered at Alaya. The air dropped ten degrees.
"I will not have my own daughter whoring about with some tribal slut!" The man growled, voice raising towards the end of the sentence.
Alaya's green eyes darkened dangerously and she stalked forward, for all the world a panther closing in on her prey, though the man was twice her weight and had a good foot on her in height. This had happened too many times. Enough was enough.
"Well hello, father," she spat the title like one would a rotten berry. "I see you're home again, just in time to eat the food I made."
Her father's demeanor darkened.
"Girl, I work my ass off to pay for this food, you owe me as my daughter to cook i-"
"I owe you?!" Alaya laughed harshly. "I owe you nothing, you godsforsaken failure of an alcoholic!"
Her father backhanded her across the face before she had even finished speaking the last syllable, and Alaya hit the ground roughly, splitting her lip on the stone. Ixa cried out her name and rushed to her side, falling to her knees beside her lover, hands hovering over her as Alaya pushed herself to a sitting position. One hand supported her weight, the other cupped the blood streaming over her lip and down her chin. She grinned, baring her blood smeared teeth up at her father, speaking softly, each word dropping like a bullet shell.
"Mother would despise you."
The man's expression darkened, anger flaring in his eyes.
"Why you little bitch, you worthless-"
As he spoke, he raised the bottle in his right hand, aiming for Alaya's head. His movements were clumsy and slowed, but his strength wasn't diminished. Time seemed to slow as Alaya watched the memory through her own eyes.
He was going to kill her.
Movement.
A light brush of lips on her cheek.
The bottle began descending, liquid splashing around it, drops suspended in air.
Then a burst of strength, legs snapping straight beside her, Ixa, leaping forward, a wordless warcry ripping through the air.
The bottle smashed onto her head, glass shattering, shards ripping through her skin, tearing apart her throat, sending ribbons of blood through the air.
Her warcry ended in a strangled scream.
Other memories passed in a blur, traveling, running, fighting. Living on her own, surviving on the streets. Rescuing Rascal from becoming horse meat and nursing him back to health. None of them registered. Alaya's mind shut down as much as possible, and she remained huddled on the stool, waiting for Solem to finish, one single name looping in her head.
Ixa.
