Thank you! I did write a bit more... but warning... I godmodded a god some.
Part 2:
The days seemed to be moving slower. Or lasting longer. Or maybe it was all in her very muddled head. Either way, time seemed like it wasn't passing with the usual ebb and flow. The wear and tear on her clothing alone tended to indicate that more time than expected had passed. She'd given up trying to keep herself clean, and even the minimal lack of effort showed. Her nails were gritty and crusted with dirt, her face and hair were caked, and the light in her eyes seemed covered by a film of dust and despair.
As best she could figure, it was night… and time to sleep. She sat down, and pulled the clear crystal out, as she had countless times over the duration of her entrapment. She rubbed frantically over it, trying to clean enough of the surface to be able to see into it. Her efforts were in vain though, and she could see no more than dark blurs beyond the smudges. A strangled sound tore its way from her lips and she crushed the stone against her face. The time for tears was ending, instead she simply rocked back and forth, empty.
The parchment lay almost forgotten by her feet. The words scrawled across it grew fewer, and less coherent as the time passed.
Day 5:
Dammit! I should be able to find a way out, but none of the portals I've found here are working. I'm really, really going to consider shoving Kisoji's face into a steaming pile of trepor dung when I get out of here. I hope the cubs are alright, I'm sure Caraick is doing just fine with them, but I can't help but wonder if they miss me.
I wish he would take them to see Zalya, at least Sarian. Caraick won't ever understand how I cannot hate her, but I can't… and Sar loves her. He sees something in her, probably like his father used to. Silly cub. He probably won't even notice I'm gone. I hope Zetlir doesn't. He's been through enough.
I'm sure as soon as I get back, I'll have to teach them all how to take baths again. No way Caraick would be seeing to that. Probably hasn't trimmed their nails, or cleaned their ears either. Oh listen to me… I sound like such a nag. I hope Car's taken the boys hunting. Maybe he's let Ehalan paint his claws.
Day 13:
There's no water here. None at all, and I can barely call enough with my magics to drink. It's dark, so very dark. I wish this crystal worked still, but it's so dark. I think it's been almost two weeks, but I'm not sure.
Day 22:
Caraick… I miss you.
She rocked slowly back and forth, cradling the stone and muttering softly to herself in the barren darkness. It was so dark, the sudden appearance of the luminous figure before her left her eyes blinded to all but the shimmer. She blinked, eyes watering and stinging as the figure slowly approached. Teshia squinted, barely able to make out the outline of a dainty foot and shapely calf, covered with a gown of liquid rainbows.
A voice that was far too soft and sweet to be found in the depths of the Realm floated on the still air. "My, my my, what have we here?" The angelic voice tinkled a laugh, like glass shards shivering along one another. The perfectly formed foot reached out, a sandal made of precious metals and gems crushed the parchment into the ground, the heel tearing through the fragile paper and ripping the words from existence. "Not so proud now, are you little girl?"
Teshia sat, almost paralyzed in the presence of the Goddess, fingertips of one hand clawing closer to the parchment, trying to pull it to safety, her other hand slowly moving the crystal, trying to hide it from the Divine sight.
The Goddess gave another peal of beatific laughter, stepping closer as if to bestow a caress to the girl's face. Perfectly manicured nails slid along the dirty face, lifting Teshia to her hands and knees, and as Dakkru bent down to whisper, her heel rested lightly atop the hand that had just brushed the edge of the parchment. A smile curved the ruby lips as that heel sliced down into the crusted flesh and bone, widening still more at the scream that pierced the air. The scream was cut off abruptly as the Goddess' hand flashed through the air and left a welt across Teshia's face.
The girl flinched, trying to pull her hand out from beneath the Goddess' foot. Where the thin heel pressed between the bones the flesh throbbed. The Goddess straightened up, looking about almost absently. "Hmm.. what shall I do with you? I did warn you of what would happen if I ever caught you again…" The Goddess rocked her weight back and forth, each movement wedging the bones apart further, almost innocently… almost.
Teshia curled into herself, clutching weakly at her wrist. A soft whimper followed the Goddess' almost joyful contemplation. Dakkru's lip curled in disgust. "You're not going to cry are you?"
The girl made a horrible face, eyes slammed shut, lip almost bitten through in the effort to keep her control. She grit her teeth and forced out a single word "Never."
The Goddess tossed her head back, cascades of inky hair shimmering as she laughed louder and longer than before. She replied ever so sweetly "You will if I want you to, child. Don't ever forget that."
A very slight smirk curved her delicate features as she stepped back, pulling her heel casually from the hand. The Goddess looked down, a tiny frown furrowed her brow as she noted a bit of flesh still clinging to her shoe. She wrinkled her nose and with the slightest narrowing of her eyes the blood and flesh disintegrated, leaving her shoe pristine. "There… much better."
The smirk returned to her face as the Goddess looked down at the figure lying before her. "What a waste you turned out to be. You could have been useful."
Teshia simply stared blankly at the figure before her. Surely this could not be Dakkru's true form. The size of her throne at least indicated that the Goddess would be much larger, but this smaller form was no easier to gaze upon. It galled her to have to avert her eyes, but between the brightness, and the pain throbbing through her hand, there was no chance for bravado. It took all her concentration to keep from vomiting on that rainbow colored gown, not that she'd actually mind adding a bit of insult here, but when one was lost and completely at the mercy of a sadist, it's generally considered a bad move to provoke said sadist.
As it was, she collapsed into a heap, gasping for breath as the figure slowly faded away. Her hand throbbed, the wound gaping. She raised it to her face, peering through the hole into the inky depths of the Realm. A trail of blood began to run down her arm, and in the absence of the pure light from the Crystal, she settled for a makeshift bandage or torn strips of her sweater. One last tug on the cloth tightened the bandage, and she fell over. Her eyes rolled into her head and a blissful oblivion soothed both the physical pain, and the emotional fears for a time.
She would wake soon enough, to once again try to find her way out.
