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#26
23rd Apr 2012 at 2:49 AM
Last edited by Misanthrope : 1st May 2012 at 4:26 AM.
Posts: 515
Thanks: 716 in 4 Posts
Chapter Six, Part 2
He searched her face for any signs of a lie, but there was none which he could discern. Her voice was consistently even, her expression stoic and unreadable; close to boredom. She was irritatingly calm, for a girl whose life he held in his hands so completely; to kill as he desired. And yet, there she stood--without the least bit of fear.
He leaned forth until his face was mere inches from hers, and whispered dangerously in her ear, “It's not in Severin's nature to be merciful or kind, unless payment is due. He and I are similar in that regard.”
Without further warning, he grabbed her by the hips until her body was pressed against his. He kissed her then--deeply, possessively, seemingly to mark her as his--to erase all memories of any other which might've come before him.
His fingers threaded through her hair, pulling on it as to hold her in place. Her lips parted under his, giving no resistance. He began to explore her mouth with his tongue. Roughly, darkly, erotically, until he feared that he might reach culmination simply from the taste of her alone.
As Cadeon broke from her with great difficulty, he fought to regain his composure. His breathing was hoarse and his heartbeat erratic. Meanwhile, she was utterly unaffected by what had just occurred while he was... agitated by her lack of response. Her face remained an expressionless canvas, giving no evidence as to what has transpired between them.
A maddening girl, she was. And yet, Cadeon found himself to be oddly charmed. He cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to face him.
Oh, her eyes--they reminded him very much of the Jade Seas--vast and endless, cold and haunting. Doubtlessly, many men have drowned within its depths. It was a cruel travesty for the gods to have granted one with such eyes, only to rob her of the sight.
In that moment, he had felt a touch of sympathy. Life had not been kind to her from the very start. When the time has come, would he be able to take the life of an innocent? Her misfortune was being in the wrong place at wrong time. And for a passing minute, he entertained the thought of letting her go.
No. That was not a possibility.
His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close until her back was nestled against him.
“I'm beginning to understand why men act so foolishly in the name of love,” Cadeon murmured in jest.
His fingers lightly traced the fine outline of her cheek and rested on her bottom lip, where it was still red from the ravishment of his kiss. He buried his face within her hair, still partly damp from the bath, and planted a single kiss on her temple. His head dipped, as his tongue drew a leisurely path down her neck and shoulders, where his lips opened hotly.
His mouth was on hers again, capturing her tongue with his. His hands trembled with a savage desire, roaming the contours of her bodice until it rested on one breast. The studded leather corset was fitted around her tightly, disallowing him from exploring further. He had a mind of removing it soon.
“I wonder how your lover would react to the knowledge that you are here with me now,” Cadeon whispered, his voice laced with icy cynicism. He was baiting her for answers. “I heard of how viciously he attacked one of my men just to keep you.”
She neither confirmed or deny anything, but only placed a hand over his, pulling it away. “You knew him,” she said. Her words had not been phrased as a question, but as a statement.
His mood darkened.
“I did,” he admitted as he released her. Any tenderness had left him then, as he was brought to recall memories which were less than pleasant. “A lifetime ago. Your warlord was once someone I called a brother, but I'm afraid that he know longer remembers me.”
That revelation alone seemed to evoke a reaction from her. A crinkle of contemplation formed between her brows. It was the first sign of emotion which he had seen her display.
“Did you know, Your Highness, that the man whom Drustanis laud as a war hero is a two-faced traitor? He is treacherous snake, who has no qualms about condemning his own people to slavery.” Cadeon paused, allowing for the gravity of the words to sink in. “For his crimes, he must be punished. As for you--” Cadeon trailed off, unsure of what to make of her. “I have not decided what to do with you, yet.”
“Why are you telling me all of this?” she asked.
“There is no point in lying to a dead woman. I cannot permit you to leave this place alive.”
“A pity,” she answered simply.
Will nothing break that damnable reserve? ”Is that all you have to say?” he asked with undisguised irritation.
“Is this the part where I beg and plead for my life?” she replied with a wry quirk of her lips, “If I were a different girl, I would have done so--I would look upon you with tear-struck eyes as I begged for you to release me in promise of my silence.” She was narrating a sarcastic distortion of his expectations, her tone light and mocking.
“An enticing picture that would been--a lone, defenseless girl to bend to your will, and use as you pleased. If you were a different man, you might have relented... perhaps after some persuasion?” Her head cocked to the side, to where his bed was standing.
He tensed at the suggestion.
The thought of her form beneath him had been a recurring image which crossed his mind during the past several days, driving him to near distraction. He had her now, within his grasp--
But something wasn't right about her. It was a intuition lingering in the back of his mind since the day on the ship. His suspicions had just been confirmed by her words.
She was not Aaliyah.
The girl gazed up at him then, causing his body to jolt involuntarily. Her eyes were truly looking into his for the first time that night.
They were an inhuman shade of blue, tinged with silver flecks which seemed to dance as the candle-flames burned all around. Within them, he saw a mirrored image of himself--albeit deformed and misshapen--and not quite whole.
She sat on the surface of his desk with one leg dangling back-and-forth in a carefree manner, as if she were not his captive whose life lay in jeopardy. Her head tilted to one side, a lazy smile evident on her beautiful visage, curiously studying his reaction. Her eyes bore into his, challenging him with a confident arrogance to remark upon the fact.
His heart quickened at the sight, his temperature growing heated.
But what did he have to fear from a girl he could easily overpower, he reasoned. Nevertheless, he could not help but to feel threatened, a virulent tension between them. “Who are you?” he demanded in a strained voice, fighting to keep his tone even.
And with that question, she laughed.
It was a cruel, hollow laughter, and one which bore no joy or warmth. The sound of her amusement echoed throughout the stone chamber, carrying with it a chilling sensation which pierced his very skin, embedding itself within the marrow of his bones.
In that moment, a strange wind swept through the bedchamber, extinguishing all candle flames. They were enshrouded in darkness, save for the moonlight which poured in.
From behind, he could hear the soft rustle of the draperies and the howling of wind, or what he had accredited the sound to.
And from the tower balcony, a mist slowly crept into the room, a curling wisp of white smoke so dense as it obscured his vision.
What madness was this?
Cadeon turned around as he watched it with a incredulous wonder, disbelieving his senses. Never had he witnessed anything like it before.
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#27
23rd Apr 2012 at 2:56 AM
Last edited by Misanthrope : 22nd Jun 2012 at 12:15 AM.
Posts: 515
Thanks: 716 in 4 Posts
Chapter Seven, Part 1
For hours, he had paced back and forth in the emptiness of his cell, waiting for her.
But Aaliyah did not return that night, or even the nights thereafter. He had earlier realized that she would that she would not be returning at all.
Although she was long gone, the sound of her voice still lingered. ‘I can get us out of here’, she had said.
By what means? Had she thought that if she offered her body willingly, their captors would agree to release the two of them? It was a fool’hope. They would have raped her again and again. If she were not already dead, she would soon wish that it was so. Meanwhile he was left to rot in this cage, helpless and unable to do anything.
A priestess. She had told him once that she would have been a priestess. He laughed bitterly at the memory. Truly, what justice was there in this world? One such as her did not deserve a fate such as this.
With a final yell of frustration, Severin fell back against the stone wall, and slumped onto the floor. His body was trembling, he realized, either from rage or grief he could not imagine.
With vacant eyes, he looked to the spot where she had stood days before. With one hand outstretched, he grasped at the air, reaching for an essence of her that remained--or so he had imagined.
Aaliyah, he whispered her name. Solitude was once something he readily embraced. But now, for the first time in his life, Severin understood the true despair of being utterly alone.
Then, there was a clatter of a lock turning as Severin jerked his face toward the light. A dark figure entered his cell; the man known as Szeth. Another followed closely behind him with a torch in hand.
“Come,” Szeth commanded in a toneless voice, “You have been summoned.”
So, his time has come. The general followed them without resistance, certain that he was being marched to his death, but a quick death was preferable to a slow one.
His attention shifted to the man standing by the furnace, a tall figure clothed in crimson. His heart skipped a beat as he realized just who it was.
Titus.
.
Ashara
The Battle of Adhashim
( Flashback )
530th Year of the Morning Star
Facing death on the open battle field was different from facing death in the dark alleyways of the city. Skill had little to do with anything when you were caught in midst of the enemy’forces, with nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. Planning, valor, strength--irrelevant. That was what made this mission all the more challenging. He could come out alive or he could succeed, but not likely both.
By now, the assassin understood what the eve of battle felt like, and knew of its taste. For the past year, he’d been inserted into the growing forces of the Drustanis army. That day, he wore their traditional armor with the image of a serpentine dragon engraved on the front of his breastplate. In the far distance, black banners flew in the desert wind.
In a swift motion, the assassin plunged his sword in the Asharan soldier’s chest and pulled it out as crimson droplets painted the hardened earth.
He was a tall, slender youth of sixteen years; no longer a boy, not yet a man. But his eyes had never reflected the innocence of youth. Even when surrounded by blood and death, his hands did not once tremble. Despite his age, he was without doubt the most proficient killer in the Ebon Hand.
He swung his heavy blade, weaving a silver thread through the air. And one by one, he cut them down without hesitation.
Out of the corner of his vision, he caught the precise moment which the Drustanis Emperor was thrown from his horse.
Immediately, his eyes sharply narrowed on the dragon insignia of the Emperor’tabard. The assassin’gaze flickered to his bare throat, which lay exposed.
This was his time. This was the moment he had waited an entire year for--the opportunity. Warmarshal Varesh and his sons were on the opposite end of the battlefield, leaving the Emperor unguarded. Vulnerable.
.
His task was clear--when the time has come, the Emperor must die, struck down in battle by all appearances, a consequence of the war his forefathers waged.
The assassin gripped in one hand his sword and a hidden blade in the other. He was near, within paces of striking distance. The Emperor’back was faced to him, oblivious to the threat which loomed so closely behind.
But a leader who fought alongside his men deserved better than a knife to the back. The assassin would deliver his death blow face-to-face. He would look into the eyes of the person he killed.
And so he waited--
Then, the Emperor’gaze was fixed on him in recognition. At that moment, his eyes widened. “Look out!” he shouted a warning as his attention shifted to a point just beyond the assassin’shoulder.
The Emperor lunged forward as the assassin turned around to address the threat. With his focus on the target, he hadn’t noticed the three approaching Asharan soldiers.
The Emperor slashed one attacker, but the other two got through. Cold steel plunged into his side and he doubled from the impact.
Instinctively, the assassin lodged his throwing-knife into the enemy soldier’s throat, and effortlessly brought down the other.
The Emperor had fallen, clutching onto his wound. It was serious, but not fatal. He would have lived.
I could kill him now, the assassin thought as he stood looming over the body. His fingers curved around the sword which he held. It would have been easy, but a welling pit of shame prevented him from doing so.
Instead, he had carried the man to safety, away from battlefield, and waited for the medics to arrive.
“I have never seen anyone fight like that before,” the Emperor remarked between haggard breaths. “What is your name, soldier?”
“I am Malik Severin.”
#28
23rd Apr 2012 at 2:58 AM
Last edited by Misanthrope : 1st May 2012 at 4:27 AM.
Posts: 515
Thanks: 716 in 4 Posts
Chapter Seven, Part 2
This fortress was the new sanctuary of the Ebon Hand, Severin realized. He had thought they had disbanded long ago, after all had been lost to Drustan.
“Malik Severin” Titus called his name like a grand proclamation, “It has been twenty long years. When I first found you, you were just a stray orphan wandering the streets. Look at you now--a grand general and the Emperor’most valued confidante. I should offer my congratulations,” he had spoken lightly, but there was an undeniable savage note which lurked beneath his words.
“So, we meet again, brother.”
“Brother?” he scoffed. “You have no right to call anyone here a brother. Not after everything you have done.”
The general only sat in silence as he studied the man seated across from him, still disbelieving his eyes. It was a face that he had never expected to see again. Twenty long years had gone by, and he still looked just as Severin remembered.
Titus, who was perhaps the only person he had ever called a friend.
Titus, who had forged him into the very thing he despised.
“The Asharan princess,” Severin began after some hesitation, “What will become of her?” He was struggling to keep his voice even, determined not to betray his concern for her.
Titus stilled at that question, assessing the general with a searching look. “She was meant to die along with the others,” he admitted at last. “It was Cadeon’decision to bring her here.”
“Cadeon,” he hissed the name underneath his breath as he recalled the face of the man who had apprehended them on the ship, his temperature growing heated from rage. “Your business is with me alone. Release her.”
“I’m afraid that is impossible. She knows about us.”
“What are you afraid of?” the general taunted, “That she would reveal the location of your hiding place? The girl is blind. And she has nothing to do with this.” Severin reasoned. “Return her to Ashara--”
“Ashara,” Titus spat the word with disdain. “Where were they when Drustan first invaded us?” He asked with contempt. “Where were they when Drustanis ships landed on Eastern shores and razed our homelands? For nearly eight decades, they’ve sat behind their walls and did precisely nothing. And you--” Titus continued as he glared at the general, eyes filled with hatred, “You are worse than nothing. I gave you one task and you failed. You had the chance to stop it all by taking Zakhar’life.”
“You are a fool to believe that a war would end with the death of one man,” Severin answered. It was true--even if the Emperor had died, another would step up to take his place.
“Perhaps not, but it was a start.”
“Let it not be said that I am without mercy. I will give you one chance to rectify your mistakes. I think you know what you’ll have to do.”
“My answer is ‘no’. I’ve already made my choice.”
Titus gave no response but only rose to stand by the fireplace. For long moments he stood there in silent contemplation, his expression vacant. “I did not believe it--not at first--when they told me of how you had betrayed us,” he murmured at last, mostly to himself, as his gaze was fixed on the flames. “After all these years, one questioned still lingered in the back of my mind: Why?”
Acclaim, respect, power, the things which young men desired. Twenty years ago, that was what he wanted. But now, Severin only sat in silence as he had no satisfactory answer to give.
Titus laughed bitterly. “So, the Emperor bestowed you a with title and some land, and in turn you happily slaughtered in his name. Was that it?” he shook his head in disdain. “I expected better of you.”
“Kill me and be done with it,” Severin responded dryly, “But spare me of your blathering”
“Kill you?” asked Titus mildly.
“That is reason you have brought me here, is it not?”
“No,” he answered in a cold voice. “Death is too good for someone like you. I will keep you alive, but just barely.”
From the back of the room, Szeth dragged out an iron rod from the burning brazier, sending forth a drifting shower of orange sparks.
With a sadistic smile on his lips, he walked across the room and pressed the yellow-hot metal against the general’face.
When the rod met his skin, it made a hissing noise as steam shot up. The faint smell of burning flesh drifted through the room. Severin gritted against his teeth, fighting the urge to scream. He would not give them them the satisfaction. His fingernails clawed into the palm of his hands, so roughly as to draw blood.
Discontented with the general’response, Szeth withdrew the metal rod from the Severin’face and jabbed it into his left eye, twisting it.
It was then that he lost all remaining willpower and screamed, a sound which resembled nothing human. His back arched, as his body thrashed against the chair. In that moment, he could think of nothing else but for the excruciating pain which was unlike any other. Agony overtook his mind, banishing all other thoughts.
He had screamed until his lungs were sore, and his throat raw from the exertion. At last, the room grew quiet as the final breath was drawn from him.
“Aaliyah,” Severin murmured her name in a moment of weakness, dazed and unthinking
“Don’t tell me that you harbor feelings for the girl,” Titus remarked in disbelief. When the general gave no response, he continued with an added vehemence, “I thought you knew better than that. It’best that you forget about her... Or should I bring her here and kill her before you?”
His fingers gripped onto the wooden arm of the chair until his knuckles turned white, all the while his face remained impassive. “To what extent must I suffer in order to satisfy you?” Severin asked in a strained voice.
“Do you think that it pleases me to see you like this?” A look of pain crossed his expression as he lashed out in anger, his tone unbelievably sharp and grievous. “I am only doing must what be done. You’ve brought this on yourself.”
He walked over to the general and knelt before him.
“Love is such troublesome thing,” Titus murmured as he carefully wiped away the blood with a surprising gentleness which contradicted every other aspect of him. “I have found that it only brings sorrow and grief, as you have proven to me time after time again. I will keep you alive,” he repeated for a second time, “But you will live out the remainder of your life in these dungeons to reflect upon your deeds.”
That day, she wore a long white dress which clung tightly to her perfect form. Her dark hair flowed freely over her shoulders and down her mid-back, lightly tousled by the chilling breeze.
Aaliyah.
His heart constricted at the sight. Just the mere glimpse of her would always take his breath away.
She was safe. His heart could sing from joy. That knowledge of that fact changed his entire disposition.
“You’ve come for me,” she remarked in a quiet voice as he approached her.
Severin froze in his track. “Of course,” he replied indignantly. Had she ever doubted him? The pain of her mistrust cut deeply, as a part of him bled inside. As the silence between them lengthened, he found that he couldn’t move toward her any more than he could move away.
“I’ve been waiting for so long,” she began after some time, “I thought you had forgotten me--”
“Never,” he interrupted with renewed vigor. Doesn’t she know that such a thing would be impossible? With a few broad steps, he quickly closed the distance between them. “There hasn’t been a waking moment where you were not in my thoughts,” those words had escaped his lips before he could stop himself. The general stood perfectly motionless, uncertain of how she would react to his sudden declaration. Would she shy away from him now? He did not breathe. He did not blink.
She turned to him then, eyes brimming with hope. “Truly?” she whispered as she clutched onto him for support, as if the fate of the entire world depended solely on his answer.
“Yes,” he said with an exhale of breath, which came out more like a laughter. There would be no other answer. She was alive, and he was with her. That was all that mattered.
He brought her delicate fingers up to his lips and kissed each one. His arms wrapped around her waist as he buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent. Her smell, her touch, her voice--he needed it all to confirm that she was real. And for a long time, they stood that way.
Happiness, was this what it felt like? It was an odd, unfamiliar feeling.
Severin could have stayed that way for the rest of his days, just holding her, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing, but after a few minutes he broke from her with great difficulty. They were not away from the danger just yet.
“Quickly, we must leave this place before they find us--”
“Leave?” she asked with a puzzled look, “But why would you want to?”
Severin awoke in his dank cell, having no memory as to how he arrived there. His body was splayed across the stone floor, too exhausted to move from the spot. He would perpetually phase in-and-out of consciousness, uncertain as to how much time had passed. Often, Severin was unsure of whether he was awake or hallucinating. But during those days, he found that he greatly preferred the latter, as his torment was only lessened by sleep.
With one hand outstretched, he lightly touched his cheek and winced from the pain. The side of his face was heavily burned, and his left eye gouged. What he must look like now, he did not care to imagine.
As much as he wanted to hate Titus for what has happened, Severin found that he could not.
Titus, who had once been a friend and brother.
Titus, who had once loved him. and he had secretly loved in turn.
Perhaps he had spoken truly--this fate was a consequence of all the general’past actions. His own sufferings was a pale comparison to all lives he had ruined.
But Aaliyah, she would not be in this situation were it not because of him. Was she alive? Would she blame him if she knew?
For a split second, Severin believed that he could detect the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the cell. No, that was not possible. Any essence of goodness had left long ago, as only depravity remained.
And he alone was left to endure this insanity.
.
Using what remaining strength he had left, the general forced himself to rise as he heard the commotion. On the opposite wall, he watched the shadows danced as blades wavered and clashed against one another.
As the shadow moved, he carefully listened to the sound of soft footsteps approaching his cell.
Then, she had appeared--the apparition which had once lingered in the darkness of the balcony; the illusion which he had once attributed to an overactive imagination. She smelled only of blood and death, a familiar scent which he was wholly accustomed to.
“Well, well, well,” the woman drawled in a mocking voice, a malicious smile present on her face, “Look who we have here--”
Am I still dreaming? Severin wondered as he stared at the intruder in disbelief.
It was her.
Test Subject
#29
29th Apr 2012 at 10:19 PM
Posts: 7
Thanks: 1 in 1 Posts
Your atmospheric effects are beautiful! The imagery is what really pulls the reader into what you're doing, you manage to make it real. Looking forward to the next installment, and thanks for posting.
#30
30th Apr 2012 at 1:52 AM
Posts: 515
Thanks: 716 in 4 Posts
#31
4th May 2012 at 11:50 PM
Posts: 51
I love youre story. It's beautifly writen, the pictures are stunning, and you have a very creative story line. Continue to be amazing with your writing!
I am trying to write a story as well, but every time I begin i can't seem to find the inspiration to finish it. Any tips for aspiring writers?
Thanks for writing such an amazing work of art
~meli
I am trying to write a story as well, but every time I begin i can't seem to find the inspiration to finish it. Any tips for aspiring writers?
Thanks for writing such an amazing work of art
~meli
#32
5th May 2012 at 1:46 PM
Last edited by Misanthrope : 5th May 2012 at 2:11 PM.
Posts: 515
Thanks: 716 in 4 Posts
#33
5th May 2012 at 6:41 PM
Posts: 1,637
Thanks: 7 in 2 Posts
I am also a novic writer but I do have some advice.
Walk around, play a computer game, look at some pictures mayde or watch a film then you me get some ideas from that. Like I got some ideas for some chapters of witch queen (my sims 2 story) by doing those things and from reading dark heresey which I love. Take you time while thinking of what to write and most importantly like what you are writing or else you will get bored of what you are writing and leave it.
Hope this has helped you
Artimis
Walk around, play a computer game, look at some pictures mayde or watch a film then you me get some ideas from that. Like I got some ideas for some chapters of witch queen (my sims 2 story) by doing those things and from reading dark heresey which I love. Take you time while thinking of what to write and most importantly like what you are writing or else you will get bored of what you are writing and leave it.
Hope this has helped you
Artimis
"I know, and it breaks my heart to do it, but we must remain vigilant. If you cannot tell me another way, do not brand me a tyrant!" - knight commander Meredith (dragon age 2)
#34
6th May 2012 at 7:00 AM
Posts: 515
Thanks: 716 in 4 Posts
#35
6th May 2012 at 10:27 AM
Posts: 1,637
Thanks: 7 in 2 Posts
Your welcome, I do take inspiration from your story and I like the way you have made sims 3 look in your story
"I know, and it breaks my heart to do it, but we must remain vigilant. If you cannot tell me another way, do not brand me a tyrant!" - knight commander Meredith (dragon age 2)
#36
24th May 2012 at 2:05 PM
Last edited by Misanthrope : 30th May 2012 at 9:40 PM.
Posts: 515
Thanks: 716 in 4 Posts
Chapter Eight, Part 1
...And somehow, my censored pictures ended up looking better than the originals >__>
Am I still dreaming? Severin wondered as he stared at the intruder in disbelief.
It was her--the woman who had once lingered in the darkness of the palace balcony, watching him as he rode through the city streets of Asshai. She was the apparition who had stood cloaked in the shadows; the vision which he had once attributed to an overactive imagination. An illusion woven into flesh. Often, he would question the very state of his sanity--this moment being one of those times.
She stood before him now, smelling only of blood and death, a familiar scent which he was wholly accustomed to.
“Well, well, well,” she drawled in a mocking voice as a malicious smile crossed her lips, “Look who we have here--the Emperor’s favorite general, chained up like some rabid dog. Why, you’re even uglier than I last remembered,” she remarked with a crooked grin as she gazed to the burnt side of his face, a look of satisfaction gleaming in her dark eyes.
She had known who he was, although he could not say the same about her.
“Just who the hell are you, and why have you been following me?” Severin demanded as he studied her face, one which he could not recall.
The woman scoffed at his question, voice laced with contempt, “I’m not here for you--I am here for her. The princess--where is she?”
What did she want with Aaliyah? Severin gave no response, uncertain of her motives.
Impatient with his silence, she took a step closer to the bars. “Answer me, dog, or I’ll slice you from throat to navel,” she threatened.
Severin laughed. It was an awful, hollow sound and hoarse from years of disuse. “Do you think that I have anything to fear from you?” the general asked in an ironic voice as he turned to one side, showing her the full extent of his disfigurement. With his one remaining eye, he noted the keys hanging off of her belt, no doubt taken from the guards she had killed. He needed her closer. The general presented her with an ugly smile, cruel and savage. “I’d like to see you try,” Severin taunted, “Step inside my cell, wench, and we will see.”
The look on her face hardened. “I don’t have time to be arguing with the likes of you. I will ask you once more--Where. Is. She?”
“What do you want with her?” he asked.
“I am going to save her,” she answered, irritated of having to explain herself.
Asharan. She was Asharan--he saw it now. It was in the manner of her speech, and structure of her face, partly obscured by the dim lighting. “The princess was taken a few days ago. I’m not sure to where,” Severin admitted.
The woman cursed as she turned and began to leave. “A waste of my time,” she muttered underneath her breath.
“Wait,” Severin called out as he got to his feet, “Release me and I’ll help you find her.” If Aaliyah was even alive. The torment of not knowing clawed at him from within.
At his offer, the intruder stopped in her tracks. Although she stood with her back facing toward him, he could still discern the expression on her face, doubtlessly strained as she weighed the merit of his words. “For two decades you have fought us. Why would you help her now?” she asked in a scathing tone.
“Your princess’s life is none of my concern.” Severin answered in an leveled voice. He must tell her what she would readily accept. Sometimes lies were easier believed than truths. “Let me out of this cell, and I assure you that I will gladly cut down any man who stands in the way. You cannot do it alone,” he added after sensing her hesitation. “More will come after you soon enough.”
“Give me one reason to regret this--” she warned as she went to turn the key in his lock, “If you so much as look the wrong way, I will gut you. Make one wrong move, and it will your last.”
Likewise, Severin thought. His lips curved upwards despite himself. A woman, threatening him? It was an amusing notion.
Off to the corner, Severin saw two of the guards lying across the floor, covered in their own blood. The result of her doing. Perhaps he had underestimated her. His senses heightened then, his body becoming alert of the presence behind him.
The general walked over to the bodies to pick up a fallen sword. As he knelt down, he noted that one of them was still alive, but on the verge of death. The man was breathing deeply, face twisted in pain.
“Where is the Asharan princess held?” Severin demanded as he held the blade against the guard’s neck. “Tell me, and I will let you live. Hold your silence, and I will castrate you before cutting your throat.”
“Cadeon’s room,” the man answered in a strained voice, one finger pointing towards the stairs. “Through the library... the top of the eastern tower.”
“You have my thanks,” Severin replied as he jabbed the sword through the guard’s chest. The man’s jaw slackened apart, although no sound escaped from his lips. He had died with eyes wide opened, staring directly back at the general.
Aaliyah. She was here.
Severin had desperately wanted to find her, but now as he stood before her chamber, a sense of prevailing dread crept from within. For a brief moment, the general hesitated; perturbed by what he might find. He pressed his ear against the door, listening for any voices from the other side, but only silence greeted him in return. His fingers encircled around the handle, finding it to be locked. “Step back,” he commanded.
Using all his strength, he bashed his shoulder against the door, effectively breaking the wooden latch. With it opened, they warily stepped into the room.
An unnatural serenity permeated the chamber, quiet, save for the rustling draperies. Food and drink from the night before were splayed across the table, wholly untouched.
His voice was caught in his throat, his chest heavy with grief from finding her in such a state-- hair disheveled and skin marred by faint bruising. Severin shouted her name as he placed one hand over her shoulder to wake her from slumber.
No response.
[img]http://i.imgur.com/AFgQd.jpg/img]
Cold. Her body was so cold. Was she still alive? He could not tell. She laid perfectly motionless across the bed, showing no sign of movement--no sign of life.
“Aaliyah,” he repeated her name as he turned her over, and brushed a single strand of hair from her face.
“Get your hands off of her,” the woman hissed as she shoved him away, placing herself as a barrier between them.
At their bickering, Aaliyah began to stir awake. Her eyelashes fluttered open, her pale gaze unfocused. A sultry murmur sounded in her throat as she rose, “Malik?”
She had asked for him.
How many times was she left to wake, alone and frightened? His heart tore from the thought of her wishing for him when he was not there.
“I’m here,” he answered.
At his voice, her face went alight with hope. “Is that really you?” she cried in disbelief, “What is happening?”
Before he could respond, the woman beside him spoke, “Your Highness, there is no time to explain. We must get you away from here first.”
“Who is this?” Aaliyah asked.
“Liandra,” the woman answered in a broken voice as she clasped onto Aaliyah’s hand, a tenderness which Severin had never seen from her before. “I have come for you at last. Forgive me, my lady.”
Liandra. The name held no meaning to him, but Aaliyah had seemed to recognize the woman, as she nodded in acknowledgement. At the mention of the name, her eyes had filled with joy and sorrow both, a silent understanding. With assistance, the Asharan princess rose from the bed as the woman dressed her in the articles of clothing strewn across the floor.
It was then he became aware of discourtesy for looking at her so. The general went over to the balcony, giving them what little privacy that could be allowed.
#37
24th May 2012 at 5:14 PM
Posts: 1,637
Thanks: 7 in 2 Posts
Awesome chapter as always I love this latest edition to dark heresy!
"I know, and it breaks my heart to do it, but we must remain vigilant. If you cannot tell me another way, do not brand me a tyrant!" - knight commander Meredith (dragon age 2)
#38
25th May 2012 at 8:38 AM
Last edited by Misanthrope : 26th May 2012 at 9:39 PM.
Posts: 515
Thanks: 716 in 4 Posts
Chapter Eight, Part 2
As Severin stepped outside, he became momentarily disoriented by the sunlight, unused to its brightness. But gradually, he readjusted. The crisp air filled his lungs and emptied his head, allowing for him recall matters more clearly.
Six days and seven nights--that was last since he’s seen her. For six days and seven nights, the bastard had kept Aaliyah locked in this forsaken tower, to be used as some plaything.
His fingers clenched onto the stone balcony as his heart thundered in his chest. He wanted to scream. He wanted to hurt.
From the eastern horizon, the morning sun peaked through the mountainside, marking the rise of dawn. Its golden rays seeped through the azure sky, radiant and blinding. But he knew that well before sundown, the earth would be stained red with blood. His inner demons would be quelled no other way. For her, he would gladly walk through the very chasms of Hell to bring the bastard to justice.
Cadeon.
After she was dressed, Severin stepped back inside the chamber, more incensed than he had ever been before. His blackened expression, set upon such a disfigured face, would have horrified her were she able to see him then. Despite the turmoil raging within him, he forced himself to calm before speaking. She had experienced enough, without needing to witness his wrath.
“Where is he?” Severin asked between clenched teeth.
The man he was going to kill--the vermin who would be fed his own entrails, to die a humiliating and painful death.
Each night as he slept on the cold, dark floor of the dungeon, he had dreamt of doing so. And every night, he would kill the bastard thrice over. The general would make him pay dearly for harming her.
At his question, she flinched, “I... I do not know,” Aaliyah quietly answered with her eyes downcast, unable face to him.
“Are you well enough to walk?” he asked. She nodded in response. “Then leave with Liandra. I am staying back here to find him.”
“This is our only chance of escape. Will you throw away your life just after I have given it back to you?” the woman asked.
He knew of the consequences. It was now or never.
But perhaps it would be a fitting end were he to die here--an Ebon stronghold--the very place which had once given him a sense of purpose, his meaning in life. His reason for existence. None which mattered now.
“The man who did this to her must pay with his life,” Severin answered with a fixed resolve. Justice--or vengeance--the result is one and the same, despite the reason, despite the cause.
“For that he will,” Liandra agreed, “But another day. Right now, the princess’s safety is paramount. You swore to help her. A corpse is of no use to us. Do not make me regret my decision for releasing you.”
“Malik,” Aaliyah called his name as she turned around, clumsily reaching for him in desperation.
At her beckoning, he immediately went to her side. “I’m here,” he repeated again to reassure her.
Her hands clutched onto the front of his shirt, as if he were the lifeline to which she held. “I was so afraid. Please do not leave me again,” she pleaded with tear-stained eyes, which were swollen from crying.
“I won’t,” Severin promised as he carefully wiped away her tears. Even as his calloused hands brushed against her skin, he feared of hurting her. His chest ached with sorrow as he looked down upon Aaliyah. If only he could take away her pain. If only he could take away her fear.
“You are coming with us, then?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered. “I will see you freed from this place, no matter the cost. That, I swear to you. I will never let anyone hurt you again. Do you believe me, ishta?”
She nodded at his words, trying to grace him with a smile despite all that has happened.
“We need to leave now, before the others get here,” Liandra said from behind. She was regarding him with the same disdainful look from before, her expression wary and pensive.
He knew that she disapproved of the way her mistress held onto him for comfort, but said nothing more of the matter. Earlier he had deduced that she was servant to the Asharan royals, although much still remained unclear. “Can you trust her?” Severin ushered in a low voice.
“Without a doubt,” Aaliyah assured.
“Then so will I.” he replied. But only for the time being.
With haste, they descended the stairs and made their way to the bridge.
“Stay behind me,” Severin ordered. Then, his sword sang free of its sheath as he drew it.
There had once been a time where he fought alongside them as brothers.
But now, he stood at the opposite end of their blades, as an enemy and traitor.
Once, he had fought for duty.
Once, he had fought for glory.
At long last, he knew what it meant to fight for love’s sake. Therein lies the difference--what separated him from the others, who had nothing to gain. But Severin understood that he must prevail, or he would forever lose her.
In an instant, their blades flickered and clashed in patterns too complex for the eye to follow. Carefully they maneuvered around each other on the narrow bridge, in a series of intricate steps too numerous to count. All the while, they switched through form after form--the fighting stances which have been drilled into them since childhood. Despite the passing years, some things never change. The memories still remained embedded in his mind, within the darkest corner of his soul. He knew their movements, and their weaknesses in turn.
Outside the halls of the Sanctuary, where killers were trained and taught, no one living has seen an Ebon assassin fight in combat. Those who were unfortunate enough to have witnessed such a sight never lived to tell the tale.
Throughout the eastern lands, his name was spoken with scorn and hatred. The Harbinger of Death, they called him. Indeed, it would not be stretching the truth to say that Ares himself guided Severin’s hand that day, as it was impossible for a single man to succeed against such odds.
Yet, Severin did.
Where his sword swept, only death followed. And all who stood before him fell to his blade.
When the last of the men had died, the general nearly collapsed from exhaustion, were it not for the stone pillar that supported him. His sides were covered in cuts, and his shirt stained with crimson. Every muscle in his body ached, his bones still trembling. “I’m still alive,” he croaked to himself, disbelieving the very fact. Severin might’ve laughed, were he not in so much pain.
“This way,” Liandra shouted.
She led them through a corridor, then to what appeared to be a dead end. Her hands hovered across the stone in search of something. As she tugged on a loose rock, the wall had shifted, revealing a tunnel behind.
“How would an Asharan woman know of a secret passage to this place?” Severin asked. The Ebon Hand was known for stealth. No outsider had ever stepped foot within its fortress and lived long enough to see another day.
“I had accidentally discovered it while looking for a way in,” she replied.
It was dubious answer, but now was not the time for questions. He would see Aaliyah to safety first. The woman, Liandra, he would interrogate afterwards. And if the general found her answers to be unsatisfactory, then she would die like the others.
Severin walked some paces behind her, maintaining a distance while keeping Aaliyah within his sight. All the while, his hand remained on the sword hilt, alert and ready should anything happen.
In complete silence, they continued through the winding tunnels, which consisted only of stone and eternal darkness. Cobwebs hung from every corner of the ceiling, with no indication of human disturbance. The pathway seemed to have stretched on for miles, until at last Severin could spy a light in far distance.
It was freedom.
#39
25th May 2012 at 12:59 PM
Posts: 1,637
Thanks: 7 in 2 Posts
Awesome!
"I know, and it breaks my heart to do it, but we must remain vigilant. If you cannot tell me another way, do not brand me a tyrant!" - knight commander Meredith (dragon age 2)
#40
13th Jun 2012 at 10:44 PM
Its great!
#41
21st Jun 2012 at 5:42 AM
Last edited by Misanthrope : 22nd Jun 2012 at 12:29 PM.
Posts: 515
Thanks: 716 in 4 Posts
Chapter Nine
N.O.T.E.: I did not originally write this story in chronological order. Malik’s story interested me the most, so I wrote about him first. Chapters 9 & 10 are flashback sequences, which takes place some years before Chapter 1.
Ashara
Temple of Iset
(Flashback)
538th Year of the Morning Star
After many days of long travel through the Crystal Desert, they had eventually reached the Temple of Iset. It rested at the bottom of a mountain’s path, isolated from the rest of the world and long forgotten. Being one of the few remaining places untouched by war, it would have served as the perfect refuge, or so Liandra had believed.
The ancient temple had once been a majestic place frequented by pilgrims throughout the east, but the centuries have disintegrated much of it to rubble, buried beneath the shifting sands. Despite its ruined state, it retained an ethereal quality only found in nature.
Overhead, a myriad of stars shone brightly in the night sky, clustered in diamond swarms against the velvety darkness. The ground beneath them seemed to capture the very essence of moonlight, evidenced by its glow. In the desolate courtyard, towering obelisks rose from the dry earth and pointed towards the heavens, where engraved images of angels and demons crowned every limestone pillar before them.
Beauty inspires love, or so it was said in Ashara. As Liandra approached the entrance, she felt moved by its splendor. Indeed, it was a place of reverence, a homage to the gods.
Hand-in-hand, she led the young princess through the winding halls of the inner sanctum, where the air was warm and heavy, laden with the smell of incense and scented candles. And where they went, faint echoes followed their footsteps and reverberated from the cracked stones of the temple floor.
Statues of deities aligned every wall, and underneath were the altars containing offerings of wine and bread, left by the worshipers. There were no services or paeans of praise for their gods, but only silence and whispers in the dark.
They stopped before the statue of Iset, goddess of life and love. She looked down upon them with glassy eyes, from atop a marble pedestal adorned with red roses. At the base of her feet, golden flames flickered ominously, as dim as the distant stars.
Liandra turned to observe the young girl standing beside her.
Aaliyah, she was the mirror image of her mother carved in miniature. Her skin, somewhat fair for an Asharan, was a lovely shade of bronze, kissed by sunlight. Her hair, which fell in soft curls around the shoulders, was the color of sable-in-shadows. Her face--an angelic marvel.
She was a lovely sight to behold, perfect in all regards save for one flaw.
The princess was blind.
Her birth had been a most difficult one, and the babe borne from the union was a sickly thing; too small and too frail. It was a miracle that she had lived long as she did. For that, they had the goddess to thank.
“Here,” Liandra said as she handed the girl a stick of lit incense. “Iset will hear your prayers if you hold her in your heart.”
It was said that House Shahrizai was blessed by the Heavens, the bloodline of kings and heroes. Iset must listen to her, if no one else--a child pure of soul, absent of sin.
“What do I pray for?” Aaliyah asked, uncertain.
“For peace. For the safety of our people. For the war to end,” Liandra answered. And for Emperor Zakhar’s head to be mounted on a spike, she thought more fiercely.
For eighty years, the two nations held an agreement--no harm would come to the Asharan people as long as they stayed out of Drustan’s path for conquest. First, Da’jin had fallen, followed by Valyria. But all had changed when the previous emperor died, leaving his eldest son to ascend the throne. Zakhar had reneged on their promise, and invaded Ashara on the 28th night of Frostfall, as the rest of the world lay sleeping.
Liandra had known better than to trust the words of the Drustanis--all of whom were treacherous snakes. She had warned her king as such, yet he did not listen.
Nizam, a noble and virtuous man, albeit too trusting, was desperate to avoid conflict. He had clung to their words with false notions of security, refusing to aid the neighboring sovereignties in the war against Drustan.
It was too late now, as Ashara was left without allies. They were the last of the eastern kingdoms to remain standing, alone to face the eminent threat.
“I just want to go home,” Aaliyah murmured with eyes downcast, mind and body exhausted. She was fighting desperately to remain awake, against the sleep which sought to claim her.
“I’m afraid that is not possible,” Liandra answered gravely. Going home was not an option--not while the Drustanis army was marching towards their very gates. Not while cities were burned and razed, as the soldiers killed and the common folk were slaughtered. Home was the last place they’d want to be right now.
From the back of the room, she spied a young boy tending to the flames. He moved from one brazier to another, lighting them along the way in a routine fashion. Dressed in the religious garb of Aen’Shei, Liandra could only presume that he was a new acolyte.
“Excuse me,” Lianda said as she approached him from behind.
The boy jumped at her sudden words, nearly dropping the torch he carried. His eyes darted to her face, then just as quickly, they lowered and rested on her armor, unable to hold her gaze.
“What is your name, boy?” Liandra asked.
“I am Mhenlo, my lady.”
“Find High Priest Zoltan for me,” she commanded in a frigid voice, one not to be disobeyed. “I need to speak with him.”
“His Holiness is still in meditation. If you could please wait--”
“This is important,” Liandra interrupted, more harshly than she had intended. He flinched at her sharp tone, and she sighed apologetically. “I’m sorry, but I do not have much time. There is an urgent matter which I need to discuss with him. Tell your master that Liandra of Seborhin is here. He knows me, and he will come.”
The adept nodded and quickly took his leave, too fearful to rebuff her further.
With arms crossed against her chest, Liandra stood and waited.
For many generations, her family has served House Shahrizai. It was an honor to be among the chosen five of the king’s elite guards--and she--a woman, nonetheless, was the very first.
There had been doubts. There had been objections. After all, women were known to be the gentler sex, ruled by emotion.
But she would prove them wrong. She could be just as cold, and just as ruthless if need be.
However, the upcoming task would prove to be the greatest challenge of all--more difficult than slaying any man, or climbing any mountain.
She must give up the child she had grown to love.
The High Priest made his entrance some time later, garbed in a simple robe of white linen and sandals made from papyrus. He was dressed simply, lacking of all earthly luxuriance save for jeweled eye of the Aen’Shei, pinned on the front of his cowl.
“Liandra,” he called out in a gentle voice as he approached her. Faint, yellow glimmers of candlelight reflected in his eyes as he smiled warmly at her in greeting. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
Time had not been kind to him, Liandra observed. It had been only been two years since they’ve last seen each other, yet it appeared as if he had aged by a decade. His face was gaunt and bony, made more severe by hollow cheekbones and shadowed lines underneath tired eyes.
“Likewise, Your Holiness,” she answered, head bowed low in respect.
“But you are not here to exchange pleasantries, I trust.”
“No,” she admitted. “There is a favor I must ask of you.”
“You are afraid to say it,” he remarked at her hesitation. “I have known you since you were a child. If it is within my power, I would not refuse you.”
It was a grave responsibility, and one which she had no right to ask of anyone. “This concerns the Asharan princess,” she began.
“Is that her?” the High Priest asked as he glanced to the far side, to where Aaliyah stood in silent prayer.
“Yes,” she answered. “As you may have heard, Adhashim has fallen into Drustanis hands, just after Istan and Vabbi. They are marching further inland. Asshai might very be next within the upcoming year. The palace is no longer safe for her to stay.”
“The war has torn this land apart,” he agreed with a solemn nod. “Our temple offers sanctuary to many refugees and orphans over the years. Princess Aaliyah is more than welcome to stay.”
“No one may know of this. Her identity must be kept a secret. Should the Drustanis find her--” Liandra trailed off, unable to continue. Would they be heartless enough to kill a six-year-old girl? She was only a child. But Liandra knew well enough of Drustanis mercy, or rather the lack thereof.
“I understand,” Zoltan said in a quiet voice. “You can rest assured that she will be protected. I trust every man, woman, and child in this house without question. The people you have seen here--they have all lost something to Drustan. We are no friend to them.”
“Thank you, Your Holiness, for all of the trouble--”
“It is no trouble,” he answered with a kind smile. “I will speak Brother Jahan to make necessary arrangements for the young princess. May Iset watch over you.”
Liandra returned to find Aaliyah standing in the same position, head bowed in prayer, hands tightly clasped around the incense. A sad smile touched her lips as she watched the girl, ever so dutiful. Silently, Liandra took the incense and placed it before Iset’s altar, where the rest of the candles burned as the fragrant scents enveloped them.
A knot formed in her throat as she struggled to find the words which would not come.
Many years before, when she had entered into the king’s service, Liandra had accepted that she would have no family of her own; no husband to wed, no child to hold. Her life was given to serve--him alone, and no other. Only death would release her from duty.
The child standing before her now--the sullen girl with blue-grey eyes--had been the closest thing to a daughter that she had known and ever would. It was then that her heart grew heavy with anguish, as she knew what was to come.
“Listen to me carefully--” Liandra began as she knelt down on one knee, “You are staying here with Priest Zoltan. He will take care of you. Obey him in all respects, and do whatever he says--”
“Do not leave me,” Aaliyah cried as she held onto Liandra’s hand, not wanting to let go. “I don’t like this place--it frightens me.”
“Hush, now,” Liandra soothed as she brushed the girl’s hair. In that moment, she struggled to keep her own tears from falling. But a member of the kingsguard did not weep, Liandra reminded herself. “You are a princess, and a princess must be brave--for all of us. One day you will return to be our queen.”
“But I don’t want to stay here--”
“You must,” she answered in a stern voice, unmoved from the subject.
“Will you at least come to visit?” the girl asked with tear-filled eyes.
“That would not be wise,” Liandra answered in earnest. Visits would only draw attention, and it was uncertain when their enemies were watching.
“He does not love me,” Aaliyah said suddenly as she turned her face away.
“Who?”
“My father. That’s the reason he sent me away, isn’t it? As punishment?”
She was momentarily taken aback by the absurdity of the question. “The king has sent you away to keep you safe, sweetling.”
The princess shook her head as she bit on her bottom lip to stop herself from crying. “He blames me for her death.”
Liandra immediately knew the woman she spoke of. Aaliyah’s mother, Ysera, who had died soon after childbirth due to incessant bleeding. Liandra remembered how the king had sat beside her bed for many days even after she was long gone, alone in a room smelling of blood and roses. It was believed that a part of him died along with her, for he never the same. But to say that a father would blame his own child was unthinkable.
“Childbirth is dangerous thing,” Liandra remarked quietly. “Of course he does not hold you responsible.”
“He is disappointed that I am not the son and heir he has always wanted,” Aaliyah assured in a spiteful voice.
“Nonsense,” Liandra asserted as she studied the princess with a disquieted look, unnerved that such resentment was coming from someone so young. The girl had always been a studious child, albeit one who rarely smiled, a fact that worried her royal father. “His Majesty treasures you above all else. You are the last of his blood. But he must do what is best-- it is safer for you here. The thought of losing you tears him inside,” Liandra answered in a mirthless voice. Just as it does to me, she thought inwardly.
“When can I come home?” Aaliyah asked.
“After the war is won,” Liandra answered as she embraced the girl in her arms for the last time.
“It may be one year from now--or it may be ten--but no matter long it takes, one day I will come back for you. I promise.”
I started a tumblr-thing, since it’s an efficient way to share pictures and stuff. I have some teaser pics of Chapter 10 on there if you want to check it out. ( I have about 80% of the pictures completed, but it is the writing that is difficult for me >__< ).
A question-- do you guys know why I named this chapter “Aaliyah?”
I think most people are confused about this bit.
#42
21st Jun 2012 at 3:25 PM
Posts: 51
Hello Misanthrope!
I love your stories! They are just as amazing as your pictures! :D
I do have a question for you: im finnaly on summer break, so i am finally able to write... I am going to try my luck at taking the pictures in sims 3, but I do not know of too many good pose boxes. Any suggestions? I really love the poses you use!
Thanks,
Melibee
I love your stories! They are just as amazing as your pictures! :D
I do have a question for you: im finnaly on summer break, so i am finally able to write... I am going to try my luck at taking the pictures in sims 3, but I do not know of too many good pose boxes. Any suggestions? I really love the poses you use!
Thanks,
Melibee
"Don't mistake coincidence for fate."
~Mr. Eko, LOST
~Mr. Eko, LOST
#43
21st Jun 2012 at 4:40 PM
Posts: 515
Thanks: 716 in 4 Posts
Thanks, Melibee :D
I find 99% of my poses from this site:
http://mysims3blog.blogspot.com/sea.../Custom%20Poses
^Scroll down and click on "older posts" to view the next page.
I find 99% of my poses from this site:
http://mysims3blog.blogspot.com/sea.../Custom%20Poses
^Scroll down and click on "older posts" to view the next page.
#44
21st Jun 2012 at 9:37 PM
Posts: 91
Thanks: 347 in 3 Posts
Thank you for the update. I love this story and check regularly for updates. It is very well written and the pictures are amazing.
#45
21st Jun 2012 at 10:50 PM
Posts: 1,637
Thanks: 7 in 2 Posts
Omg this is awesome, I love the medieval outfits, where did you get them from? Is their any ones for sims 2?
"I know, and it breaks my heart to do it, but we must remain vigilant. If you cannot tell me another way, do not brand me a tyrant!" - knight commander Meredith (dragon age 2)
#46
21st Jun 2012 at 11:27 PM
Posts: 1,637
Thanks: 7 in 2 Posts
Thank you!!
"I know, and it breaks my heart to do it, but we must remain vigilant. If you cannot tell me another way, do not brand me a tyrant!" - knight commander Meredith (dragon age 2)
#47
23rd Jun 2012 at 5:29 PM
Posts: 51
Thankyou for the help :D
"Don't mistake coincidence for fate."
~Mr. Eko, LOST
~Mr. Eko, LOST
Test Subject
#48
15th Aug 2012 at 10:23 PM
Posts: 1
Most beautiful Sim story I've ever read.
End of story.
End of story.
Test Subject
#49
20th Aug 2012 at 8:44 PM
Posts: 1
best sim story i've read in a long time! i enjoyed it immensely and hope you won't make us wait for too long
just a quick question: could you tell me where you've got your sims or if you're willing to put aaliyah for download?
just a quick question: could you tell me where you've got your sims or if you're willing to put aaliyah for download?
#50
21st Aug 2012 at 10:24 PM
Posts: 515
Thanks: 716 in 4 Posts
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