Fiction: Legendland Challenge: 20 Ficlets of Cara and Mord Sith Training (11-20)
Continuation from Previous Post:
click for Ficlets 1-10
[11]Prompt: Singing
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She was crying, soundlessly.
If it wasn't so dark anyone could have seen her tears glistening on her cheeks and neck, but in this blackness only the moisture if you touched her, gave it away.
Dahlia clung to her friend even closer and sighed, momentarily stopping to sob.
Her favorite dress was torn now and soaked in blood.
The whip always had that effect on cloth and skin alike, cutting through the flesh like a blade.
They had been there for a week and it was always the same.
They told them their parents didn't want them, and that they now belonged to those scary women in leather.
Of course, Cara and Dahlia didn't actually believe them. Why would they?
They were good girls. Always helping their mothers in the house, always obeying their fathers orders. They didn't stray long from the house-lest for going near the river- and did all their homework.
They were careful not to get their hands and dresses dirty with mud and the bow in their hair never left their heads.
What more could their parents ask of them?
They must love them. Because they were everything to Cara's and Dahlia's worlds and parents are supposed to love, aren't they?
But days passed by and no one would come. Not their fathers, nor their mothers. They even threatened to bring her sister here, as well, and Cara didn't know what to feel or think.
On the one hand she wanted her sister close to her, to give her strength and courage to get through this and on the other hand this was a dangerous, hurtful place and it was not a place she would wish her sister to experience.
It was a place where they couldn't sleep, unless they withstood a beating.
A place where they couldn't eat, unless they didn't cry when worms were placed on their naked skin making their slimy way towards their mouths and ears.
It was a place in which it was a sin to cry.
A sacrilege even.
Crying was for the weak and the losers, they were told.
But if they didnt cry when all those things were forced upon them, it would be like they were accepting them to be normal, to be okay and they werent.
No, Cara shook her head with conviction. It wasn't okay and she should never be convinced or forced to believe it was.
So it was okay, right now that Dahlia was crying.
It was okay that she couldn't deal with the pain the whip brought on her.
It wasnt okay that her dress was torn and smelling of sweat and blood, the acrid, acid-y taste clinging to everything as if it were glue.
At least she had survived it and even though she had lost her courage and she was aching for her parents, for freedom and for playing with Cara near the river again, at least they were still together.
“Dont cry, Dahlia” Cara whispered. “I'm here. You will do better tomorrow” and she smiled when she felt Dahlia nod “yes” despite sobbing.
And then, out of nowhere she started singing, just humming a song, more like a prayer that her mother used to sing to her when she was sad or afraid.
“Close your eyes to the monster
it will hurt you no more,
the Creator is faster
all will be as before”
~ Fin ~
[12]Prompt: Spring
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It smelled like spring and Cara wasn't sure how much time she had spent there.
Was it the first time after she was taken that spring had come?
The second? The thirtieth?
She couldn't be sure. She had spent too much time, too many days in the prison due to her disobedience to be certain and accurate.
But spring was here now. She could literally smell it in the air.
She smelled of daffodils and poppies and daisies.
She could even swear that she could smell roses and carnations although she wasnt sure they grew on this side of the hill.
They spent too much time on the road to take notice of such things, but to Cara it made all the difference.
It almost felt like an illusion of normality.
It gave her hope.
No matter how dark or cold it was in her heart, the world moved on. The world kept going and didn't stop to misery.
It was like a silent, unspoken promise of life that she would once be like that again.
She would find, if not her innocence and happiness again, then at least peace.
Serenity, even if it was for the final moment before her death.
So, although she was constantly hit and pushed forward by the Mord Sith, as they made their way over the hill, her eyes wandered all around her as they walked, trying to take in all the beauty and all the colorfulness that she could take, to carry it with her and safekeep it within her soul for the dark days to come.
The days she would spend locked away in a dark cell with no food, water or company and no chance for consolation or support or even forgiveness.
Maybe it wouldn't be enough at any other time.
Perhaps it would have been enough when she was younger and still held illusions of leading a happy, healthy life and her mind was filled with images of romance and knights ready to fight for her and defend her.
But now, now she knew better.
Now she held no illusions and knew exactly what to expect.
More misery, more pain, more loneliness.
There was nothing more. Nothing for her alone.
All the beauty of the flowers and the plants, of nature, was on the outside. Not affecting her, not making her life easier or more bearable. Not on a physical level anyways.
It was merely a frame of mind and for that she was thankful.
She didn't want to start hoping.
It was too dangerous and too deceptive and heartbreaking once she realized it was futile.
What was the point of being disappointed again and again and again?
She was already broken though, so one could counter that a few more fractures couldn't possibly do more damage, but even cracks bleed and Cara was already gasping fro breath and wishing for death.
Still, even though all she wanted to do was pick some flowers and make a nice necklace of them and dance barefoot among them, she somehow held herself back and clenching her teeth and her tiny little fists she kept walking.
~ Fin ~
[13Prompt: Whisper
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“What was that little mouse?” Laevia asked, her eyebrow raised.
It was obvious she was enjoying this.
Did she not remember that she was once a frail, vulnerable little girl just like the girl she was attempting to break?
“I can't hear you” she repeated when Cara didn't reply and her agiel came into contact with Cara's skin again, causing her to spasm in agony.
“I... I “ Cara mumbled, but was too weak to continue, half-collapsing on the floor, despite two Mord Siths were holding her.
They ultimately dropped her on the floor and though in pain, Cara welcomed the coldness coming into contact with her skin.
It hurt, but at least the shock was enough to keep her conscious.
“I told you not to hit her too hard. She will not be of any use to us if she is dead. And I have heard a lot about her. She is smart and brave. Imagine what she will be like once we break her. A glorious creature of cruelty and efficiency”
“Sorry, sister” the two Mord Siths replied and hurried to pick Cara up from the floor.
She made a feeble attempt to fight them, but she was unsuccessful and she allowed herself to rest all of her weight against them.
It was more out of necessity - she couldn't stand on her own anyway- but it felt like a little revenge now that the two of them had to carry her at least till Laevia was out of sight.
“You will never break me” Cara whispered again and this time Laevia was close enough to hear her.
“Is that what you think?” she asked, obviously enjoying the moment.
“Yes” Cara breathed out and tried to sound like she was speaking with conviction.
“Well, we will see about that little mouse, won't we? “ The challenge in Laevia's voice was sharp.
“We will” Cara conceded. “But don't pout when you see I am right”.
“Oh don't worry Cara. I don't pout, I smack. You can be sure of that”.
It was an open provocation and Cara didnt expect any less, but after that her life was a hundred times worse.
She never uttered a word without a Mord Sith slapping her and she never did a chore like cleaning, without someone 'accidentally' kicking over everything she had done and cleaned, so that she had to do it again.
One night, she was even attacked in her sleep by none other than Laevia herself.
Her strong, lethal hands wrapped tightly around her little throat squeezing and squeezing till Cara was on the verge of passing out.
Her eyes were already making a crazy dance of their own, on their way to turning on the inside when she felt the grip loosen a bit and Naevia's lips were touching her ear as she whispered:
“You are mine little mouse. You have been mine from the start. One day you will take my place as the leader of this sisterhood and that's not a threat, it's a promise”.
~ Fin~
[14]Prompt: Tease
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She never wanted to admit it at first, but she was good at it.
She was one of the few that really found it easy to comply with this discipline and the rigorous exercise that the physical battle training necessitated.
When she first held a sword in her hands, she was amazed at how good it felt.
It was shiny, edgy, lethal.
It was a comforting weight in her hands.
She was better off holding a sword knowing it was deadly and therefore forced to be careful with it, rather than being left to her own devices, free to use her bare hands and her newly-found deadly powers to any cause.
This is what she wanted to do. She might be broken, but she was angry.
She had just learned a way to direct her anger to people other than Mord Sith, like she should.
She liked to feel skin against the palm of her hand, she liked the contact, she reminded her that this was real and that she had endured it, having come out victorious.
There were still times she felt shame and the she had become something atrocious, but at least she was alive.
That was what she kept telling herself at night.
Dahlia kept being close to her, but with time they had stopped speaking of their past, their previous lives, their parents, siblings and dreams.
Now there were no parents, only sisters, the other Mord Sith.
There was no past life, only this 'function' and the didn't dream.
Not while they had one sole mission, to help Lord Rahl achieve his purpose.
Men had no place in this life, either.
Cara could almost laugh when she though that as a little girl she had wanted a family, a husband and kids.
Now there was no time or purpose for romance.
All they needed was female offspring to carry on the sisterhood.
That wasn't always possible, however, that was why sometimes it was necessary to abduct girls just like it was with Cara.
But, unfortunately, you could hardly force a man to sleep with you.
No one could 'function' if he was scared out of his mind...
No, that wouldn't work, so Cara found that it was all so much easier and more efficient when instead of threatening, you teased.
Their tight, leather outfits could be a turn on, when the agiel was not in sight and of course, they could always disguise themselves as harmless women who just wanted to have a little fun.
Old men, feeble men or otherwise defective wouldn't do, though.
They had to be presentable and in good shape.
The Mord Sith couldn't risk bad genes go into their future sisters.
*****
It was an obscure village where she found him.
A pitchfork in his hand, he thought, along with his villagers, that he could scare them and turn them away, but they could overpower those ignorant fools anytime they wanted, with the one hand tied behind their back. Maybe even both.
His name was Tristan and stood taller than the rest, with broad shoulders and a wide chest.
His hair was the color of the sun and Cara noticed that he was the only one who wasn't trembling.
She smacked him to test him and when he didnt budge, she nodded approvingly and touched him with her agiel.
“Alright” she said nodding at two of her sisters at the same time to grab him once he fell to the ground.
“We will spare your village, but we will borrow him for a little while. Don't worry, you will get him back” she started mockingly
“In more or less the same condition... Probably less”
~ Fin ~
[15]Prompt: Sweet
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Little Cara closed her eyes. She couldn't, wouldn't watch this.
She shut them tightly as she heard her father moan.
“Nooooo, Daddyyyy” she screamed and opened her eyes again to see her father falling on the ground unconscious.
“Bye Bye Daddy” Laevia mocked and waved at him goodbye as she mounted her horse, grabbing Cara with her, holding her so harshly that Cara's body was in pain.
*****
When she woke up, it was because she was soaked in something.
She opened her eyes and realized that a bucket of water had just been emptied on her.
Wiping the water off her eyes and face she stood up and looked at the Mord Sith in front of her.
“Where is my father?” she demanded, clenching her tiny fists in an attempt to look menacing, as menacing as a little girl possibly could.
The woman in front of her, with the long braided hair, merely laughed.
Cara took a step forward and shouted one more time.
“I want to see my father! Where have you taken me?”
“To your destiny” the woman answered and, bucket in hand, she exited the room closing the iron-barred door behind her.
Cara took the time to glance around.
It was a dark, cold room with no tell-tale signs of where in the world it was.
She quickly stepped towards the door and once there, she saw that there were other girls just like her, in rooms just like the one she was in, herself.
”Where are we?What is this place?” she dared ask and met with the frightened looks of the other girls, not saying a word ,but with a silent plead not to get them into trouble.
It was only one girl that answered her and Cara turned to her left to see her.
“They are Mord Sith” she spat out the word like it was a curse.
“They take girls like us and turn them into them”
“Them? What are they? Witches?” Cara asked again.
“No, they are worse. Magic doesn't affect them. They serve Lord Rahl”
“Rahl? The tyrant?” Cara whispered and her eyes went huge with fear.
Her mother had spoken to her of him and of his army of D'Harans.
She didnt know he had a female army, too.
“Yes..” the girl started again.
Cara could only make out half her face but she looked familiar and the voice sounded familiar too, but she was too drowsy to be sure.
“Dahlia?” she mouthed incredulously.
“Cara? OMG, it WAS you. I thought I saw you earlier when they were carrying us to the cells”
“What are they going to do to us?” she spoke without fear, stoically.
“They are going to turn us into monsters”.
Dahlia had hardly finished her sentence, when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
She instantly knew they were underground.
Cara recognized the woman as the one that hit her father and bile filled her mouth, its sour taste only surpassed by the bitterness she felt inside.
“So, you are all here” Laevia said.
“I want to see my father” Cara shouted again.
“Oh, isn't that sweet... NOT?”
~ Fin ~
[16]Prompt: Weapon
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When Cara first came into contact with the Mord Sith, or rather into their possession, she had no idea how deadly they were.
She knew they were dangerous, they had hit her daddy, but she never thought they were powerful enough to take on many male soldiers at once.
Cara was small then, just a little girl and all she dreamed about was dolls and dancing and pretty dresses with beautiful pink ribbons on them.
But as she grew up, among the Mord Sith, hating every minute of it, she came to appreciate them for what they were.
And what they were was a weapon.
A carefully, constructed, simple, yet perfect weapon of Mass Destruction and Mass Conversion.
She knew from experience how efficient it was.
They fed on your fears, on your insecurities, your hopes and feelings and sucked them out of you like an endless black hole, a whirlpool meant to obliterate the person you once were and replace you with another cog in the machine.
Another perfect soldier at the service of their ruler and master, Darken Rahl.
She wondered how the first Mord Sith was broken.
How did Rahl take a simple, normal girl and turned her into a blood-thirsty warrior?
What did he do to rid her of her humanity, her weaknesses and her emotions?
Did he take them all out or did he leave the convenient, necessary ones like anger, wrath and hatred?
Those were her questions at first.
She kept asking questions and challenging whenever she could, always met with pain and humiliation, but she kept arguing and pushing.
Then as time passed by and nothing changed, as she watched all of the girls that had come in with her, give in one by one, she finally stopped asking questions.
Instead, she buried them deep inside her, hoping that no one would know they were still there...
But against her will, those questions were gradually frozen inside of her, continuing to sink deeper and deeper inside of her till, at first she couldn't remember them exactly anymore and then she had forgotten them altogether.
Now she no longer talked with Dahlia about their childhood.
No one even remembered what it was like being a child, let alone once being one.
There was no talk of their games by the river, or of the times they spent dancing in the forest, chasing butterflies till it got dark.
There was no talk of them singing and following Cara's mother around when she was feeding the chickens.
She didn't long for her mother's arms anymore and she didnt need a hug when she felt sad.
She rarely felt sad anyways.
A good day was a day in which she completed her mission and all other days were simply forgotten.
It was efficiency or oblivion and no Mord Sith wanted oblivion, because that meant Lord Rahl's wrath.
And no matter the training, all Mord Sith felt helpless, even humble in front of their master.
One bad word and their name would be put to shame for eternity, their sisters would mock them and dump them with the most boring and meaningless assignments.
And Cara would never allow herself to stoop that low.
Now she was one of the greatest.
She herself had become The Weapon.
~ Fin ~
[17]Prompt: Fear
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There was a game she once played when she was a little girl.
One she had invented with her sister and they both played it when their mother wasn't around.
It was a silly one, mind you, but it kept them happy and it didn't even need anything special.
They would sit on the floor, cross-legged and hold hands, closing their eyes.
Then one would go first and name one of her fears, of her phobias and the other would try to rationalize it, to help her overcome it.
It was how Cara had overcome her fear of bees and her sisters had overcome her fear of the shoes that kill you in your sleep.
Cara could remember it clearly even now.
“Who's afraid of the furry thing in the forest?” she heard her sister ask.
“I am” Cara replied .
“But?” Grace continued in accordance to the rules of the game.
“There's no reason for me to?” Cara hesitated.
“Yes!!!” her sister triumphantly ascertained her.
“Because?” Cara insisted, already feeling tense.
“Because, the furry thing in the forest is called Chipmunk and it loves to cuddle. No one should be afraid of it. It only eats roots and acorns and has never eaten a single little girl”
“And what if they haven't tried one yet? What if one tries -say me- and develops a taste for them?”
“Are you kidding? You are gross. The Chipmunk would never like the way you taste. It would rather eat acorns drenched in cow's piss” he sister giggled at her grossness.
“Eeewww, that's gross...Stop it!”
“Well, that's how gross you are” her sister teased her. “Besides, I never told you this till now, but I touched one.”
“You touched what?” Cara asked shocked.
“A chipmunk” Grace replied proudly.
“No way. You are lying. You didn't!”
“I did too. Dad got one and I touched it right before...” she trailed off.
“Right before what?” Cara asked her suspicious of her little pause.
“Right before it bit Dad's finger” her sister admitted.
“Aaaaahaaaa, see? I told you they were dangerous”
“They are not. Dad's fine. They are just silly animals. They can't hurt you. Besides you are so much bigger than them...”
“Not yet, I am not! Mom calls me little monkey”
“But you will be!” her sister persisted.
“Well, I won't be afraid of them when I am bigger” Cara said in her defense.
“I hope so...”
Her sister's words still resounded in her ears, as she made her way towards a village on her horse.
Her sisters around her, didn't seem to notice, but she was always attuned to those little creatures.
She could always sense them and she always shivered.
Even if she wasn't really afraid of them anymore.
She was certain she spotted one just a minute ago, making it's way to the top of the tree on the left.
She smiled despite herself as memories flooded her mind.
“Are you alright, Cara?” Dahlia asked, riding next to her.
“Yes, sister. I am fine” she gave her answer.
“We have company, did you notice?”
“We are being followed?” Dahlia asked alarmed.
“In a way...” Cara said cryptically.
“There's a chipmunk behind us jumping from tree to tree all afternoon...”
~ Fin ~
[18]Prompt:Blush
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The training was hard.
The hardest thing she ever had to go through, but she survived.
Cara survived and helped Dahlia survive too.
It was not that Cara was older, not even that she was from the same village, going to the same school as her.
It wasn't even that she was her friend prior to her abduction.
Old relationships, friends didn't matter and emotions like that had no place in the Mord Sith sisterhood but, among everything, these two girls had managed to achieve a relationship that went far beyond the margins of friendship or sisterhood.
Dahlia held a part of herslef, just like she held a part of Dahlia, just like when they were little girls and Cara would console and support Dahlia all through their Mord Sith Training.
It had been 7 years already and they had finished their training and gotten officially accepted as sisters of the agiel.
The day to wear the leather uniform for the first time had finally come.
Cara longed to touch her agiel.
Each Mord Sith, had two agiels especially designed for her. Two agiels that would not only be her weapons, but also an extension of herself.
It was the greatest honor when their senior sister would present them with theirs and Cara's hands were aching and almost shaking with the excitement.
She zipped up her uniform and fastened her belt around her hips, careful to place it exactly where it should be.
The places for the agiels were already there waiting to be filled and Cara walked towards the mirror, watching her hands as she abruptly grasped two imaginary agiels and held them menacingly in front of her, scaring away an invisible enemy.
It was then that Dahlia walked in, wearing her uniform too, her long hair braided beautifully at the back of her head.
“Excited?” she asked, smiling at the image of Cara playing “attack” in front of the mirror.
“Can't you tell?” Cara said turning to look at her directly.
“Oh I can. I am excited myself, too” she explained and took a step closer to her.
“Of course, you are” Cara agreed and leaned closer to Dahlia.
“I told you we were going to make it, didn't I?”
“Yes you did” Dahlia replied, exhaled. “Right from the very start”.
“But you didn't believe me?” Cara pressed her, raising an eyebrow.
“I didn't even believe myself back then. But I did believe you. I have always believe in you” Dahlia told her lowering her voice.
“Hmmm- hhhhh” Cara answered her in the same tone.
For a moment they stayed like this, still, leaning into each other, looking into each other's eyes, breathing in each other's scent.
And then Dahlia took one step closer and put her hands on either side of Cara.
She slid them along her thighs till she touched the belt.
Slowly, carefully, she rearranged it, her face almost buried in Cara's neck as she leaned a little down to admire the belt.
“Much better” she mouthed once she was finished.
“Thank you” Cara simpliy replied.
“My pleasure. You look beautiful. No. More than that. You look kickass” she said.
And Cara blushed.
~ fin ~
[19] Prompt: Color
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It was her little secret. No one had really noticed it or if she did, she didnt recognize the significance.
It was funny how little things escaped the Mord Siths' perception.
It was harmless, unassuming. Silly even, but it meant the world to Cara.
For weeks, months even, Laevia wondered how Cara could resist “assimilation”, whereas most of the other girls they had abducted, were already compliant and obedient.
She thought it was only strength of character, will power, maybe, but she couldn't predict that it was more than that.
Cara hid it carefully throughout the day, taking it out only at night, when she was thrown in her cell to sleep.
She was stripped of everything. Her dignity, her self-respect, her dress.
But they didn't take her underwear.
They didn't think to check and there were no tell-tale bulges.
But it was there.
It was small, tiny but it was there and it provided Cara with comfort.
Something to hold on to throughout everything.
When she was taken from her father's grasp, she was holding on to him.
She tried to hold on to him with all her might, clinging to him like a baby monkey, hands and feet alike.
And Laevia may have succeeded in tearing her away from him, but Cara had managed to tear a piece of her father's shirt.
A minuscule piece of cloth, brown and inexpensive, but it still smelled of him. Her father.
And every time she held it in her hands, her thumbs caressing the texture of the garment, inhaling deep in the darkness that was her cell, she drew courage and strength and somehow she felt like her father was right next to her, beside her, giving her strength.
Telling her not to give up, not to give in, but withstand everything because in the end nothing of that would matter.
Not her time as a prisoner, not her time as a Mord sith...
She would be free to live the life she wanted in the end. And that filled her with hope.
Hope that was deceptive perhaps, but it worked for her all the same.
And sometimes when Laevia whipped her, her mouth twisting into a snarl, shouting insults at her, trying to scare her and force her into submission, sometimes Cara would smile.
She would try to hide it underneath the winces the pain of the lash caused her, but it would be there.
And sometimes, just sometimes, Laevia would pick up on it and would whip her more furiously, unable to understand how that was possible.
Maybe that was why she was so persistent and wanted to break her.
Maybe that was why she viewed Cara as her successor.
It was like she was disregarding pain and fear and death.
But Cara knew better.
She was cheating, because that piece of cloth was her armor, shielding her from harm and from the emotional breakdown.
And maybe after all those months the cloth was devoid of color, blunt and dull,yet it was filled with her soul.
~ Fin ~
[20] Prompt: Fire
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No one was expecting it. All of Laevia's plans always went exceedingly well.
She knew exactly which village to strike for least resistance.
She knew exactly which person to turture in order to coerce the whole village into submission and she knew exactly which buttons to push to make everyone go her way.
Some said it was a gift from Darken Rahl and his magic, others said it was a unique characteristic to her.
But no one knew the truth. Or dared to ask.
This time, however, nothing went according to plan.
In Laevia's defense though, no one could possibly know that a former, reformed D'Haran soldier had settled there and had created his own training centre, rendering the villagers a not-so-easy target.
These villagers were proud and noble and felt a deep connection with each other.
The Mord Sith soon realized that they all helped each other and all would die rather than betray one another.
If it wasn't so troublesome at this point, Laevia could even admire it.
But this time she had to crush it.
It was one of the few times that she used more than just her agiel.
She had taken out her sword and proceeded by killing and slashing and maiming everyone and anyone in her way.
Cara had heard tales of Laevia's fierceness and how when she was in battle she showed no mercy, no hesitation, no weakness, not even exhaustion.
She was a killing machine born from the nightmares of all people together.
Alas, the other Mord Sith were not like her and they had already suffered heavy losses when Laevia killed the soldier.
His name was Dalahan and he wasn't easy to kill.
Still, being out of the game for so long and having abandoned his life as a soldier because he didnt advocate killing anymore had rendered him soft.
Soft enough for Laevia to kill.
The villagers were not as brave or as strong or as effective.
But they did feel anger and pain and revenge was soon taken when they captured Shayla, Laevia's first and trapped her in a burning hut, tricking her and planning on burning her alive.
Laevia was on the other side and heard Shayla's screams when it was too late for her to do anything.
No matter how fast she would run, she would never get there on time to fight the villagers and helpe her out.
Cara was closer though and even though she could be trapped too, she run to the hut and fought off the men trying to force her in, as well.
It wasn't easy or without danger, but Cara felt like she owed it to her.
After all, she was one of her sisters now.
These women, these women that followed the orders of a killer, of the tyrant that was Darken Rahl, were the only family she had left.
The only persons that knew her and recognized her as their own anymore. Her past before the Mord Sith didnt exist.
She no longer was Cara Mason. She was Cara, Sister of the Agiel.
And she fought with all her might, almost going berzerk scaring not only the villagers, but herself as well, but she succeded.
Coughing and staggering, she took Shayla out of the burning hut and once out, watching as the villagers scattered away terrified, she realized that this is who she was now.
A Mord Sith.
~ Fin ~
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[11]Prompt: Singing
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She was crying, soundlessly.
If it wasn't so dark anyone could have seen her tears glistening on her cheeks and neck, but in this blackness only the moisture if you touched her, gave it away.
Dahlia clung to her friend even closer and sighed, momentarily stopping to sob.
Her favorite dress was torn now and soaked in blood.
The whip always had that effect on cloth and skin alike, cutting through the flesh like a blade.
They had been there for a week and it was always the same.
They told them their parents didn't want them, and that they now belonged to those scary women in leather.
Of course, Cara and Dahlia didn't actually believe them. Why would they?
They were good girls. Always helping their mothers in the house, always obeying their fathers orders. They didn't stray long from the house-lest for going near the river- and did all their homework.
They were careful not to get their hands and dresses dirty with mud and the bow in their hair never left their heads.
What more could their parents ask of them?
They must love them. Because they were everything to Cara's and Dahlia's worlds and parents are supposed to love, aren't they?
But days passed by and no one would come. Not their fathers, nor their mothers. They even threatened to bring her sister here, as well, and Cara didn't know what to feel or think.
On the one hand she wanted her sister close to her, to give her strength and courage to get through this and on the other hand this was a dangerous, hurtful place and it was not a place she would wish her sister to experience.
It was a place where they couldn't sleep, unless they withstood a beating.
A place where they couldn't eat, unless they didn't cry when worms were placed on their naked skin making their slimy way towards their mouths and ears.
It was a place in which it was a sin to cry.
A sacrilege even.
Crying was for the weak and the losers, they were told.
But if they didnt cry when all those things were forced upon them, it would be like they were accepting them to be normal, to be okay and they werent.
No, Cara shook her head with conviction. It wasn't okay and she should never be convinced or forced to believe it was.
So it was okay, right now that Dahlia was crying.
It was okay that she couldn't deal with the pain the whip brought on her.
It wasnt okay that her dress was torn and smelling of sweat and blood, the acrid, acid-y taste clinging to everything as if it were glue.
At least she had survived it and even though she had lost her courage and she was aching for her parents, for freedom and for playing with Cara near the river again, at least they were still together.
“Dont cry, Dahlia” Cara whispered. “I'm here. You will do better tomorrow” and she smiled when she felt Dahlia nod “yes” despite sobbing.
And then, out of nowhere she started singing, just humming a song, more like a prayer that her mother used to sing to her when she was sad or afraid.
“Close your eyes to the monster
it will hurt you no more,
the Creator is faster
all will be as before”
~ Fin ~
[12]Prompt: Spring
Word Count:
{Title: }
It smelled like spring and Cara wasn't sure how much time she had spent there.
Was it the first time after she was taken that spring had come?
The second? The thirtieth?
She couldn't be sure. She had spent too much time, too many days in the prison due to her disobedience to be certain and accurate.
But spring was here now. She could literally smell it in the air.
She smelled of daffodils and poppies and daisies.
She could even swear that she could smell roses and carnations although she wasnt sure they grew on this side of the hill.
They spent too much time on the road to take notice of such things, but to Cara it made all the difference.
It almost felt like an illusion of normality.
It gave her hope.
No matter how dark or cold it was in her heart, the world moved on. The world kept going and didn't stop to misery.
It was like a silent, unspoken promise of life that she would once be like that again.
She would find, if not her innocence and happiness again, then at least peace.
Serenity, even if it was for the final moment before her death.
So, although she was constantly hit and pushed forward by the Mord Sith, as they made their way over the hill, her eyes wandered all around her as they walked, trying to take in all the beauty and all the colorfulness that she could take, to carry it with her and safekeep it within her soul for the dark days to come.
The days she would spend locked away in a dark cell with no food, water or company and no chance for consolation or support or even forgiveness.
Maybe it wouldn't be enough at any other time.
Perhaps it would have been enough when she was younger and still held illusions of leading a happy, healthy life and her mind was filled with images of romance and knights ready to fight for her and defend her.
But now, now she knew better.
Now she held no illusions and knew exactly what to expect.
More misery, more pain, more loneliness.
There was nothing more. Nothing for her alone.
All the beauty of the flowers and the plants, of nature, was on the outside. Not affecting her, not making her life easier or more bearable. Not on a physical level anyways.
It was merely a frame of mind and for that she was thankful.
She didn't want to start hoping.
It was too dangerous and too deceptive and heartbreaking once she realized it was futile.
What was the point of being disappointed again and again and again?
She was already broken though, so one could counter that a few more fractures couldn't possibly do more damage, but even cracks bleed and Cara was already gasping fro breath and wishing for death.
Still, even though all she wanted to do was pick some flowers and make a nice necklace of them and dance barefoot among them, she somehow held herself back and clenching her teeth and her tiny little fists she kept walking.
~ Fin ~
[13Prompt: Whisper
Word Count:
{Title: }
“What was that little mouse?” Laevia asked, her eyebrow raised.
It was obvious she was enjoying this.
Did she not remember that she was once a frail, vulnerable little girl just like the girl she was attempting to break?
“I can't hear you” she repeated when Cara didn't reply and her agiel came into contact with Cara's skin again, causing her to spasm in agony.
“I... I “ Cara mumbled, but was too weak to continue, half-collapsing on the floor, despite two Mord Siths were holding her.
They ultimately dropped her on the floor and though in pain, Cara welcomed the coldness coming into contact with her skin.
It hurt, but at least the shock was enough to keep her conscious.
“I told you not to hit her too hard. She will not be of any use to us if she is dead. And I have heard a lot about her. She is smart and brave. Imagine what she will be like once we break her. A glorious creature of cruelty and efficiency”
“Sorry, sister” the two Mord Siths replied and hurried to pick Cara up from the floor.
She made a feeble attempt to fight them, but she was unsuccessful and she allowed herself to rest all of her weight against them.
It was more out of necessity - she couldn't stand on her own anyway- but it felt like a little revenge now that the two of them had to carry her at least till Laevia was out of sight.
“You will never break me” Cara whispered again and this time Laevia was close enough to hear her.
“Is that what you think?” she asked, obviously enjoying the moment.
“Yes” Cara breathed out and tried to sound like she was speaking with conviction.
“Well, we will see about that little mouse, won't we? “ The challenge in Laevia's voice was sharp.
“We will” Cara conceded. “But don't pout when you see I am right”.
“Oh don't worry Cara. I don't pout, I smack. You can be sure of that”.
It was an open provocation and Cara didnt expect any less, but after that her life was a hundred times worse.
She never uttered a word without a Mord Sith slapping her and she never did a chore like cleaning, without someone 'accidentally' kicking over everything she had done and cleaned, so that she had to do it again.
One night, she was even attacked in her sleep by none other than Laevia herself.
Her strong, lethal hands wrapped tightly around her little throat squeezing and squeezing till Cara was on the verge of passing out.
Her eyes were already making a crazy dance of their own, on their way to turning on the inside when she felt the grip loosen a bit and Naevia's lips were touching her ear as she whispered:
“You are mine little mouse. You have been mine from the start. One day you will take my place as the leader of this sisterhood and that's not a threat, it's a promise”.
~ Fin~
[14]Prompt: Tease
Word Count:
{Title: }
She never wanted to admit it at first, but she was good at it.
She was one of the few that really found it easy to comply with this discipline and the rigorous exercise that the physical battle training necessitated.
When she first held a sword in her hands, she was amazed at how good it felt.
It was shiny, edgy, lethal.
It was a comforting weight in her hands.
She was better off holding a sword knowing it was deadly and therefore forced to be careful with it, rather than being left to her own devices, free to use her bare hands and her newly-found deadly powers to any cause.
This is what she wanted to do. She might be broken, but she was angry.
She had just learned a way to direct her anger to people other than Mord Sith, like she should.
She liked to feel skin against the palm of her hand, she liked the contact, she reminded her that this was real and that she had endured it, having come out victorious.
There were still times she felt shame and the she had become something atrocious, but at least she was alive.
That was what she kept telling herself at night.
Dahlia kept being close to her, but with time they had stopped speaking of their past, their previous lives, their parents, siblings and dreams.
Now there were no parents, only sisters, the other Mord Sith.
There was no past life, only this 'function' and the didn't dream.
Not while they had one sole mission, to help Lord Rahl achieve his purpose.
Men had no place in this life, either.
Cara could almost laugh when she though that as a little girl she had wanted a family, a husband and kids.
Now there was no time or purpose for romance.
All they needed was female offspring to carry on the sisterhood.
That wasn't always possible, however, that was why sometimes it was necessary to abduct girls just like it was with Cara.
But, unfortunately, you could hardly force a man to sleep with you.
No one could 'function' if he was scared out of his mind...
No, that wouldn't work, so Cara found that it was all so much easier and more efficient when instead of threatening, you teased.
Their tight, leather outfits could be a turn on, when the agiel was not in sight and of course, they could always disguise themselves as harmless women who just wanted to have a little fun.
Old men, feeble men or otherwise defective wouldn't do, though.
They had to be presentable and in good shape.
The Mord Sith couldn't risk bad genes go into their future sisters.
*****
It was an obscure village where she found him.
A pitchfork in his hand, he thought, along with his villagers, that he could scare them and turn them away, but they could overpower those ignorant fools anytime they wanted, with the one hand tied behind their back. Maybe even both.
His name was Tristan and stood taller than the rest, with broad shoulders and a wide chest.
His hair was the color of the sun and Cara noticed that he was the only one who wasn't trembling.
She smacked him to test him and when he didnt budge, she nodded approvingly and touched him with her agiel.
“Alright” she said nodding at two of her sisters at the same time to grab him once he fell to the ground.
“We will spare your village, but we will borrow him for a little while. Don't worry, you will get him back” she started mockingly
“In more or less the same condition... Probably less”
~ Fin ~
[15]Prompt: Sweet
Word Count:
{title: }
Little Cara closed her eyes. She couldn't, wouldn't watch this.
She shut them tightly as she heard her father moan.
“Nooooo, Daddyyyy” she screamed and opened her eyes again to see her father falling on the ground unconscious.
“Bye Bye Daddy” Laevia mocked and waved at him goodbye as she mounted her horse, grabbing Cara with her, holding her so harshly that Cara's body was in pain.
*****
When she woke up, it was because she was soaked in something.
She opened her eyes and realized that a bucket of water had just been emptied on her.
Wiping the water off her eyes and face she stood up and looked at the Mord Sith in front of her.
“Where is my father?” she demanded, clenching her tiny fists in an attempt to look menacing, as menacing as a little girl possibly could.
The woman in front of her, with the long braided hair, merely laughed.
Cara took a step forward and shouted one more time.
“I want to see my father! Where have you taken me?”
“To your destiny” the woman answered and, bucket in hand, she exited the room closing the iron-barred door behind her.
Cara took the time to glance around.
It was a dark, cold room with no tell-tale signs of where in the world it was.
She quickly stepped towards the door and once there, she saw that there were other girls just like her, in rooms just like the one she was in, herself.
”Where are we?What is this place?” she dared ask and met with the frightened looks of the other girls, not saying a word ,but with a silent plead not to get them into trouble.
It was only one girl that answered her and Cara turned to her left to see her.
“They are Mord Sith” she spat out the word like it was a curse.
“They take girls like us and turn them into them”
“Them? What are they? Witches?” Cara asked again.
“No, they are worse. Magic doesn't affect them. They serve Lord Rahl”
“Rahl? The tyrant?” Cara whispered and her eyes went huge with fear.
Her mother had spoken to her of him and of his army of D'Harans.
She didnt know he had a female army, too.
“Yes..” the girl started again.
Cara could only make out half her face but she looked familiar and the voice sounded familiar too, but she was too drowsy to be sure.
“Dahlia?” she mouthed incredulously.
“Cara? OMG, it WAS you. I thought I saw you earlier when they were carrying us to the cells”
“What are they going to do to us?” she spoke without fear, stoically.
“They are going to turn us into monsters”.
Dahlia had hardly finished her sentence, when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs.
She instantly knew they were underground.
Cara recognized the woman as the one that hit her father and bile filled her mouth, its sour taste only surpassed by the bitterness she felt inside.
“So, you are all here” Laevia said.
“I want to see my father” Cara shouted again.
“Oh, isn't that sweet... NOT?”
~ Fin ~
[16]Prompt: Weapon
Word Count:
{Title: }
When Cara first came into contact with the Mord Sith, or rather into their possession, she had no idea how deadly they were.
She knew they were dangerous, they had hit her daddy, but she never thought they were powerful enough to take on many male soldiers at once.
Cara was small then, just a little girl and all she dreamed about was dolls and dancing and pretty dresses with beautiful pink ribbons on them.
But as she grew up, among the Mord Sith, hating every minute of it, she came to appreciate them for what they were.
And what they were was a weapon.
A carefully, constructed, simple, yet perfect weapon of Mass Destruction and Mass Conversion.
She knew from experience how efficient it was.
They fed on your fears, on your insecurities, your hopes and feelings and sucked them out of you like an endless black hole, a whirlpool meant to obliterate the person you once were and replace you with another cog in the machine.
Another perfect soldier at the service of their ruler and master, Darken Rahl.
She wondered how the first Mord Sith was broken.
How did Rahl take a simple, normal girl and turned her into a blood-thirsty warrior?
What did he do to rid her of her humanity, her weaknesses and her emotions?
Did he take them all out or did he leave the convenient, necessary ones like anger, wrath and hatred?
Those were her questions at first.
She kept asking questions and challenging whenever she could, always met with pain and humiliation, but she kept arguing and pushing.
Then as time passed by and nothing changed, as she watched all of the girls that had come in with her, give in one by one, she finally stopped asking questions.
Instead, she buried them deep inside her, hoping that no one would know they were still there...
But against her will, those questions were gradually frozen inside of her, continuing to sink deeper and deeper inside of her till, at first she couldn't remember them exactly anymore and then she had forgotten them altogether.
Now she no longer talked with Dahlia about their childhood.
No one even remembered what it was like being a child, let alone once being one.
There was no talk of their games by the river, or of the times they spent dancing in the forest, chasing butterflies till it got dark.
There was no talk of them singing and following Cara's mother around when she was feeding the chickens.
She didn't long for her mother's arms anymore and she didnt need a hug when she felt sad.
She rarely felt sad anyways.
A good day was a day in which she completed her mission and all other days were simply forgotten.
It was efficiency or oblivion and no Mord Sith wanted oblivion, because that meant Lord Rahl's wrath.
And no matter the training, all Mord Sith felt helpless, even humble in front of their master.
One bad word and their name would be put to shame for eternity, their sisters would mock them and dump them with the most boring and meaningless assignments.
And Cara would never allow herself to stoop that low.
Now she was one of the greatest.
She herself had become The Weapon.
~ Fin ~
[17]Prompt: Fear
Word Count:
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There was a game she once played when she was a little girl.
One she had invented with her sister and they both played it when their mother wasn't around.
It was a silly one, mind you, but it kept them happy and it didn't even need anything special.
They would sit on the floor, cross-legged and hold hands, closing their eyes.
Then one would go first and name one of her fears, of her phobias and the other would try to rationalize it, to help her overcome it.
It was how Cara had overcome her fear of bees and her sisters had overcome her fear of the shoes that kill you in your sleep.
Cara could remember it clearly even now.
“Who's afraid of the furry thing in the forest?” she heard her sister ask.
“I am” Cara replied .
“But?” Grace continued in accordance to the rules of the game.
“There's no reason for me to?” Cara hesitated.
“Yes!!!” her sister triumphantly ascertained her.
“Because?” Cara insisted, already feeling tense.
“Because, the furry thing in the forest is called Chipmunk and it loves to cuddle. No one should be afraid of it. It only eats roots and acorns and has never eaten a single little girl”
“And what if they haven't tried one yet? What if one tries -say me- and develops a taste for them?”
“Are you kidding? You are gross. The Chipmunk would never like the way you taste. It would rather eat acorns drenched in cow's piss” he sister giggled at her grossness.
“Eeewww, that's gross...Stop it!”
“Well, that's how gross you are” her sister teased her. “Besides, I never told you this till now, but I touched one.”
“You touched what?” Cara asked shocked.
“A chipmunk” Grace replied proudly.
“No way. You are lying. You didn't!”
“I did too. Dad got one and I touched it right before...” she trailed off.
“Right before what?” Cara asked her suspicious of her little pause.
“Right before it bit Dad's finger” her sister admitted.
“Aaaaahaaaa, see? I told you they were dangerous”
“They are not. Dad's fine. They are just silly animals. They can't hurt you. Besides you are so much bigger than them...”
“Not yet, I am not! Mom calls me little monkey”
“But you will be!” her sister persisted.
“Well, I won't be afraid of them when I am bigger” Cara said in her defense.
“I hope so...”
Her sister's words still resounded in her ears, as she made her way towards a village on her horse.
Her sisters around her, didn't seem to notice, but she was always attuned to those little creatures.
She could always sense them and she always shivered.
Even if she wasn't really afraid of them anymore.
She was certain she spotted one just a minute ago, making it's way to the top of the tree on the left.
She smiled despite herself as memories flooded her mind.
“Are you alright, Cara?” Dahlia asked, riding next to her.
“Yes, sister. I am fine” she gave her answer.
“We have company, did you notice?”
“We are being followed?” Dahlia asked alarmed.
“In a way...” Cara said cryptically.
“There's a chipmunk behind us jumping from tree to tree all afternoon...”
~ Fin ~
[18]Prompt:Blush
Word Count:
{title: }
The training was hard.
The hardest thing she ever had to go through, but she survived.
Cara survived and helped Dahlia survive too.
It was not that Cara was older, not even that she was from the same village, going to the same school as her.
It wasn't even that she was her friend prior to her abduction.
Old relationships, friends didn't matter and emotions like that had no place in the Mord Sith sisterhood but, among everything, these two girls had managed to achieve a relationship that went far beyond the margins of friendship or sisterhood.
Dahlia held a part of herslef, just like she held a part of Dahlia, just like when they were little girls and Cara would console and support Dahlia all through their Mord Sith Training.
It had been 7 years already and they had finished their training and gotten officially accepted as sisters of the agiel.
The day to wear the leather uniform for the first time had finally come.
Cara longed to touch her agiel.
Each Mord Sith, had two agiels especially designed for her. Two agiels that would not only be her weapons, but also an extension of herself.
It was the greatest honor when their senior sister would present them with theirs and Cara's hands were aching and almost shaking with the excitement.
She zipped up her uniform and fastened her belt around her hips, careful to place it exactly where it should be.
The places for the agiels were already there waiting to be filled and Cara walked towards the mirror, watching her hands as she abruptly grasped two imaginary agiels and held them menacingly in front of her, scaring away an invisible enemy.
It was then that Dahlia walked in, wearing her uniform too, her long hair braided beautifully at the back of her head.
“Excited?” she asked, smiling at the image of Cara playing “attack” in front of the mirror.
“Can't you tell?” Cara said turning to look at her directly.
“Oh I can. I am excited myself, too” she explained and took a step closer to her.
“Of course, you are” Cara agreed and leaned closer to Dahlia.
“I told you we were going to make it, didn't I?”
“Yes you did” Dahlia replied, exhaled. “Right from the very start”.
“But you didn't believe me?” Cara pressed her, raising an eyebrow.
“I didn't even believe myself back then. But I did believe you. I have always believe in you” Dahlia told her lowering her voice.
“Hmmm- hhhhh” Cara answered her in the same tone.
For a moment they stayed like this, still, leaning into each other, looking into each other's eyes, breathing in each other's scent.
And then Dahlia took one step closer and put her hands on either side of Cara.
She slid them along her thighs till she touched the belt.
Slowly, carefully, she rearranged it, her face almost buried in Cara's neck as she leaned a little down to admire the belt.
“Much better” she mouthed once she was finished.
“Thank you” Cara simpliy replied.
“My pleasure. You look beautiful. No. More than that. You look kickass” she said.
And Cara blushed.
~ fin ~
[19] Prompt: Color
Word Count:
{Title: }
It was her little secret. No one had really noticed it or if she did, she didnt recognize the significance.
It was funny how little things escaped the Mord Siths' perception.
It was harmless, unassuming. Silly even, but it meant the world to Cara.
For weeks, months even, Laevia wondered how Cara could resist “assimilation”, whereas most of the other girls they had abducted, were already compliant and obedient.
She thought it was only strength of character, will power, maybe, but she couldn't predict that it was more than that.
Cara hid it carefully throughout the day, taking it out only at night, when she was thrown in her cell to sleep.
She was stripped of everything. Her dignity, her self-respect, her dress.
But they didn't take her underwear.
They didn't think to check and there were no tell-tale bulges.
But it was there.
It was small, tiny but it was there and it provided Cara with comfort.
Something to hold on to throughout everything.
When she was taken from her father's grasp, she was holding on to him.
She tried to hold on to him with all her might, clinging to him like a baby monkey, hands and feet alike.
And Laevia may have succeeded in tearing her away from him, but Cara had managed to tear a piece of her father's shirt.
A minuscule piece of cloth, brown and inexpensive, but it still smelled of him. Her father.
And every time she held it in her hands, her thumbs caressing the texture of the garment, inhaling deep in the darkness that was her cell, she drew courage and strength and somehow she felt like her father was right next to her, beside her, giving her strength.
Telling her not to give up, not to give in, but withstand everything because in the end nothing of that would matter.
Not her time as a prisoner, not her time as a Mord sith...
She would be free to live the life she wanted in the end. And that filled her with hope.
Hope that was deceptive perhaps, but it worked for her all the same.
And sometimes when Laevia whipped her, her mouth twisting into a snarl, shouting insults at her, trying to scare her and force her into submission, sometimes Cara would smile.
She would try to hide it underneath the winces the pain of the lash caused her, but it would be there.
And sometimes, just sometimes, Laevia would pick up on it and would whip her more furiously, unable to understand how that was possible.
Maybe that was why she was so persistent and wanted to break her.
Maybe that was why she viewed Cara as her successor.
It was like she was disregarding pain and fear and death.
But Cara knew better.
She was cheating, because that piece of cloth was her armor, shielding her from harm and from the emotional breakdown.
And maybe after all those months the cloth was devoid of color, blunt and dull,yet it was filled with her soul.
~ Fin ~
[20] Prompt: Fire
Word Count:
{Title: }
No one was expecting it. All of Laevia's plans always went exceedingly well.
She knew exactly which village to strike for least resistance.
She knew exactly which person to turture in order to coerce the whole village into submission and she knew exactly which buttons to push to make everyone go her way.
Some said it was a gift from Darken Rahl and his magic, others said it was a unique characteristic to her.
But no one knew the truth. Or dared to ask.
This time, however, nothing went according to plan.
In Laevia's defense though, no one could possibly know that a former, reformed D'Haran soldier had settled there and had created his own training centre, rendering the villagers a not-so-easy target.
These villagers were proud and noble and felt a deep connection with each other.
The Mord Sith soon realized that they all helped each other and all would die rather than betray one another.
If it wasn't so troublesome at this point, Laevia could even admire it.
But this time she had to crush it.
It was one of the few times that she used more than just her agiel.
She had taken out her sword and proceeded by killing and slashing and maiming everyone and anyone in her way.
Cara had heard tales of Laevia's fierceness and how when she was in battle she showed no mercy, no hesitation, no weakness, not even exhaustion.
She was a killing machine born from the nightmares of all people together.
Alas, the other Mord Sith were not like her and they had already suffered heavy losses when Laevia killed the soldier.
His name was Dalahan and he wasn't easy to kill.
Still, being out of the game for so long and having abandoned his life as a soldier because he didnt advocate killing anymore had rendered him soft.
Soft enough for Laevia to kill.
The villagers were not as brave or as strong or as effective.
But they did feel anger and pain and revenge was soon taken when they captured Shayla, Laevia's first and trapped her in a burning hut, tricking her and planning on burning her alive.
Laevia was on the other side and heard Shayla's screams when it was too late for her to do anything.
No matter how fast she would run, she would never get there on time to fight the villagers and helpe her out.
Cara was closer though and even though she could be trapped too, she run to the hut and fought off the men trying to force her in, as well.
It wasn't easy or without danger, but Cara felt like she owed it to her.
After all, she was one of her sisters now.
These women, these women that followed the orders of a killer, of the tyrant that was Darken Rahl, were the only family she had left.
The only persons that knew her and recognized her as their own anymore. Her past before the Mord Sith didnt exist.
She no longer was Cara Mason. She was Cara, Sister of the Agiel.
And she fought with all her might, almost going berzerk scaring not only the villagers, but herself as well, but she succeded.
Coughing and staggering, she took Shayla out of the burning hut and once out, watching as the villagers scattered away terrified, she realized that this is who she was now.
A Mord Sith.
~ Fin ~
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