The Voyage, Twisted By Time [Catherine/SOLO]

Pain. White, hot, pain.

It felt like her bones creaked and splintered with each hit he threw at her, leaving her shaking and nearly collapsed. He hit so hard, he moved so fast, the man before her was a resolute mountain that wanted to crash down upon her.

“Don’t you tell me yer already trembling, girl! We haven’ even gotten tah the fifth minute!”

Oh. She was trembling. That wouldn’t do. She squeezed her knife with as much might as her hand could muster, the other tightened into a fist… How many spars has she had against him now, this beast of a man? Since she’d signed that contract, she was firm on him training her, this was what she wanted, this was what she ALWAYS wanted - if she was just strong enough back then..!

Her strike was interrupted by the brutal swing of his sword smashing into her side and throwing her well across the clearing, slamming against a tree with a resounding thud. Pain hiked her nerves and shook her bones, stifling a scream.

Screaming was bad. Crying was bad. Anything but the fight was bad. Anything less was distractions, and distractions would be her killer.

“Are you bout to cry, girl? You miserable wretch?”

He was coming.
She could feel those footsteps, thrumming in her chest.
She had to get up.
Up. Up.
Work.
Legs, work.
Work now.
Stop ignoring me.

“If ya canny even last five minutes, then how ta’ hell ya gonna kill me, ya pathetic sop?”

That giant hand raked through her fiery locks and pulled her off the ground. She saw those soulless eyes peer into hers; a corpse’s own dull expression yet had the ferocity of a malevolent presence pierce into her.

“Lookatcha self, I thought ye were greater than the summa’yah parts, girl! What happened ta not bein a coward like yer father, ah? AH? All I see is a waste!”

Each and every sentence brought a violent shake, a rattling to her skull as if she was nothing but a doll in his monstrous grasp, a hearty laugh to the situation filling her with a bitterness.

“Ya won’t ever be more than nothin’ if ya let that weakness in ya blood, from that whelp and that witch, win!”

An animalistic scream hiked in her throat as he swung his arm down to crush her into the dirt, legs throwing up to wrap around his massive bicep and focus her grasp onto her blade, to stab him clean through the wrist. She didn’t think, she didn’t reason, she just attacked.

All that followed was his baleful laughter, as a vicious stabbing would keep scraping, and scraping, and scraping at that flesh that seemed so miserable, and yet so thick. A large hand went for her torso. She twisted away from him, thrown onto his shoulders as several blows would go for his collar and neck.

Arteries.
Sinew.
Tissue.
Muscle.
Nerves.
Anything.
She would tear through anything, if it got her ahead in this fight. She couldn’t lose.

She, couldn’t, lose.

My father often told me, "People are like the sea; they change every day."

But that was his usual inelegant way of explaining my challenges, it didn’t prepare me for the truth:

Anytime I peer into that sea, I would never see the same thing. Some days it could be so still, it reflects my face perfectly upon it's soothing surface.

Other days, it could be so violent, it's gaping maw would threaten to swallow me, titanic waves seeking to dig teeth into the hull of my vessel, the only thing between me, and those unforgiving depths.

Or it's calm would only be interrupted by the occasional raindrop pricking the surface.

Or it could be so stormy, that my reflection is nothing more than a foaming white.

Or something unexpected could dredge from it's bottomless throat...

...It's so tiring. Why can't it be as expected? Can't the sea just stay the same, forever? If not, why not just smaller changes?

Why must it cast me to and fro, an endless voyage across the world?

Even if boring and peaceful...

Even if a horrific maelstrom...

Even if swimming with beasts that could swallow my sanctuary whole...

I'm begging you, stay the same, for once…

—

“...Pappa..?” Her feverish vision pieced together only a large figure hovering over her, before the fine details pieced together.

“Ah, girl, yah awake… Thank tha lord...” She flinched when she attempted to get up, the man - the supervisor under her, Nikolai, his identity clicked in her brain quickly as her vision cleared. His large hand quickly prompted her to ease back into lying, “Do not be getting up so quick. Your stitchings…”

The night prior slowly swam back into her heated consciousness with her hand feeling her stomach; where she was… Was…

Her breathing elevated as memory of the searing pain, the talons gouging her stomach, the fervent rush… A machine nearby pinged with the sudden height of her heart rate.

“Girl, breathe, you must breathe!” He held her free hand gently, another of his massive digits placed on her chest, “In, and out. In, and out. You are in safety. You are safe.”

That familiar, panicked smile was on his face - that same anxious look when he was uncertain of how a situation could go, and giving an expression of reassurance was the only way to wrangle any power from the unforgiving storm.

..She’d calm, and slow. Water, ice, several measures to cool her body were given as she was given time for her thoughts to fester in her sick skull.

Something tugged in her other hand’s grip. Her vision connected the sensation - she was holding a bag, obsidian feathers and blood pinned between paled digits. Thats right… She remembered.

“Come now, girl. Yah been holden this from being found. Ya must rest ya hands.”

Important things were in that bag… But she let go. She knew Niko wouldn’t toss out something she was that insistent on keeping safe. The previous night… Those words spoken…

..That’s right, she had a place to go to, and things to forge... The only thing she recalled before losing consciousness again, was a cautious hand brushing her short locks from her face.

—

A pain, once fiery, now numbed and distant to the killer’s mind.

Teeth tore into the bosom of feathers and dying heat, the broken body of her adversary laying beneath her as she savored the bitter flesh. Her innards were held only by the haphazard alterations of cloth and steel, devouring this putrid meal raw as to further preserve her own life. Had she lesser will, there would be no victor.

“..Girl.”

The pulsation of freshly exposed lungs pressed against her head, agitating her from her wretched feasting, a pale face marked bloodied with scraps of viscera. Nails dug into the sides of that avian form, past sharp black feathers and into the soft downy undercoat.

“The one who sent you… Anders you had said...”

That feminine voice dripped with a lifetime of regret and anger, life trickling away by each word as another labored breath escaped the hollow.

“...If you are, truly, who you say you are, then an offer I have for you - in exchange of two selfish favors…”

That spark of intrigue broke through the animalistic desire to preserve life, a head rising in acknowledgement, stormy eyes wide and staring up at the beast’s head, as if expectant of a second onslaught, her figure rigid.

“..Take to the western sea, toward the center of our world. Within the circlet of stone, you will find what remains of us. Tend to it well.”

She had little energy to berate the riddle, only offering a low grunt in response; the only trickle of higher thought she had space for was something of how unclear that wording was… But it was curious enough for her to remember it.

“..In return… Take of my talons, and form them into a weapon most terrible. Take of my heart, and carve it into eyes upon your eyes. Enable me to witness the end of that man, my accursed betrothed… Wield me, as to tear the life from him…”

That voice grew weaker, whispery, as that beak that once sought to tear her apart parted a final time,

“... And once you’ve done so… Burn my remains, where my eldest was laid to rest…”

6:42 PM

A hasty meddling with the lock would soon lead to the child bursting into the apartment, footsteps ripping her from the first floor onto the second with a haphazard climb up the steps. God, that fight took so long, and she looked like crap… Good thing ugly ass Jessie’s skin tone was close enough to her’s that grabbing that makeup case was worth it, she just needed some…

Baking soda, got it - she’d rush from the bathroom and into her own bedroom, closing the door behind her and getting to work carefully scraping off and brightening the powder in a dish, and soon applying it to the dark marks on her face. Darn it, she couldn’t make it too obvious she was in a scuff, it’d be embarrassing…

A quick glance at her phone and- Crap it was almost seven, that meant-

With the worst timing, she heard the door beneath her open with the familiar entrance of her father’s tremoring footsteps.

“Anise?” His calling tone made her flinch. Crap, shoot, darn, dang - was he back from work early? Usually she had a few extra minutes! She wanted to get all cleaned up and ready for her meetup with Antony and the guys… Not that he’d let her go if he knew that was what she was doing.

“Come now, Anise, I know you’re home.” Those footsteps that shook the apartment slowly came up the steps, a low thump making all the decorations in her room shake slightly. She was hoping sitting in her room and holding her breath would make him give up, but alas… He was already knocking at her door. Maybe throwing herself out five stories wasn’t as bad an idea this time.

“Girl, come now we need to talk,” An irritated breath would leave her hissing teeth, rolling her eyes. Ugh, he probably got another call from Ms. Piggy putting her damn nose in everything she does.

“Ugh, fine!” A disgruntled yell would come from her as she’d drag herself out of her room and to her door. The towering man with light hair stood before her, that unreadable look on his stony face greeting her as usual, “What?”

“Correct your tone.”

She’d roll her eyes and bunch her shoulders, a sour feeling in her chest,

“Yes, Pappa?”

A toothy, disearnest grin was thrown in alongside the ‘nicer’ voice. A deep sigh was given to her.

“An, look, I just… I’m sorry, that i’m not here often… I..-”

What the hell was he doing? Her face was scrunched with a look of incredulity, his expression changing from remorse to surprise, his large hand coming to her face - she’d step back quickly.

“Is that powder on your face?”

“No.” Her small figure shrunk with discomfort.

“Your hair is a mess, did you get into another fight?” He reached for her, some between of parental concern and frustration.

“No!” She backed away further into her room, hugging herself close.

“Anise Jasmine-Johanna Rosmarin! What have I spoken to you about getting fights? Ayyyeeh…” The man’s booming voice almost threw her off her feet, his disappointment seeping into the room as he squeezed his nose bridge, “You’re too smart for such barbarism, girl!”

“It wasn’t even my fault, one of Jessie’s stupid nosepicking friends-”

“I don’t bleedin’ care about what that girl, or her stupid little friends, think of you - it’s no excuse to get into fights! What of your schooling, your future?”

Frustration boiled in her, as she’d move to push at the man about thrice her size, “Oh here ya are again, not listening to me like usual! Why do ya even pretend with coming at me with your stupid fake shit!”

He looked taken aback, cold anger taking his expression, “Anise-”

“I wouldn’t be getting into fights, if-if-if we weren’t in this stupid, stinking city, in my dead end nowhere school full of-of… Morons! Antony’s the only one who gets me!”

His brows knit in response to that name, “Anise!-”

“Quit calling me like you know me! You don’t know me! You’re barely ever even around!”

“I know, but-”

“BUT NOTHING! You don’t have anything! You haven’t had anything since we moved to this stupid tiny place!“

A swift kick to the wall fueled her anger, “Again and again, year after year you promise it’ll be different, we’ll be out of here, I promise I promise I promise! I’m sick of your stupid promises, never promise me anything again! Antony has my way out, and you DON’T!”

His large hand carefully caught her arm, a grave expression on his face, “Anise, don’t you dare go see that boy!”

She angrily yanked her arm away, “Why not? He’s the only one thinking past this stupid place! It’s not home, it’ll never be home!”

“He’s- He’s older than you! And he has no sense! I forbid you!”

“Yeah! Like the last five times you ‘forbid me’? I don’t care!” She’d sneer. She had to get to the door. She was going to be late. Again, she took a step to the stairs, only for that large hand to grab her far more roughly.

“Do not leave this house, girl!”

“Or else what, you’ll tut tut me? Say i’m wrong and dumb and don’t know what i’m doing?”

“No, I-!” He pulled. She pulled. She slapped, pulled, and yanked.

“I’ll leave the damn house if I want to!”

“Anise!-”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do! You don’t get to act like you care all of a sudden!”

“Anise, stop, Ani!…se.”

The hold broke. She fell down the stairs, only catching herself near the bottom as she’d pant, wide-eyed. Her father’s bewildered frame stood frozen at the top of the steps, of the accident he caused. Tears welled in her eyes.

“..I hate you...” Her voice broke, sniffing as she’d rush to the door and far from her complex before her father would have a chance to catch up to her.

On and away, to that fateful night…