Prelude to The Terrible Journey

"Seonna, Seonna Sweetly Seonna, play a song for me, then, yes?”



“Shaya, I’m tired, my gorgeous dove, so tired! Another night.” Her long, delicate fingers laced gently through Shaya’s hair, ran down her cheek and neck to rest tenderly on her shoulder as she kissed her on the lips. “Why don’t we sleep instead?”



“Because I want to hear a song, my sweet Seonna, I want to hear a song very much, and there’s no one with a magic like yours.” Shaya responded, childlike, her smooth, pale face shining innocent against the grass and bright sunlight of a magnificent hill.



“Will you not be yourself this evening, Shaya?” Came the voice of a very tall, very slim man sitting upon a throne made of rough stone.



“Why should I? Don’t you find me beautiful, Ell?” She purred and spun her body to show off her lithe and graceful form, playfully splaying herself out on the man’s lap – smile on her face.



“No.”



Seonna laughed and clicked her tongue rapidly “Well I do!” And she firmly pulled Shaya from Ell’s lap by her leg. She then moved upwards along Shaya’s body and let her long, golden hair fan out around their faces, wrapping them in an intimate little nook while she pressed her body downwards. “Hello there, my little princess!”



“Play me a song, Seonna, yes?”



“No.” She cooed, and pressed her lips against Shaya.



An electric jolt of pain shot through her face as Shaya bit down, and a terrified but confused gasp escaped her lips.



“STOP!” Ell commanded with a thunderous boom in his voice. Shaya’s teeth loosed and Seonna recoiled, a trickle of blood lacing down her lip as they separated in temporary compulsion. “Look at you, Shaya! Your fire is like our antediluvian brothers, can you not control it?”



“You compare me to THEM, Ell? Yet again you liken me to primal things – the Old Gods, and yet again you speak to me like this! Who are you to speak to me like this? Seonna LOVES me. She just doesn’t understand that I need her to sing to me, I have to show her how much I need her to sing to me, Ell!” At this her voice was a scream and she spun once again to face Seonna.



“Shaya, you ARE beautiful, but this is not you.” He said with a touch of sadness in his voice.



Suddenly Shaya was old, very old. Weathered, leathery skin drooped from her frame, and her gown betrayed even more unflattering features. Seonna stiffened visibly behind her, and Ell rose from his seat.



“Is this how you would have me, then? I am disgusting! Look at me!” She shrieked.



“I see honesty.”



Seonna picked herself up and wiped an uncomfortable amount of blood from her lip. “I’m leaving. I’m tired. I’m bleeding.” And she started down the hill.



Shaya glared hard at Ell, snorted, and was beautiful again just as suddenly as she had changed before. “Why don’t you just leave us girls alone, Ell? You’re not like us. She doesn’t like you like she likes me. Enjoy your silly chair.” She turned to leave, suddenly seeing the small man approaching behind her. “Oh, hello toad. Out of my way, I bite.” She did not notice that he was carrying a small ebon blade on a pillow made of flesh, apparently for Ell.



“So I saw, enjoy your silly music.” Replied the little man with a smile playing out across his face. No chance of music for her tonight.





*



“Seonna, sweet Seonna I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, let me see it, yes?” Called Shaya as she caught up.



Blood was still flowing from her lip – the gash a bit larger than either of them had known. Seonna’s grey gown was seeping up the sanguine blood and clutching it close and wet against one side of her body. She was a mess.



“Oh Seonna, I’m so sorry. Such wretchedness back there – it’s all his fault. Why don’t we go down to the ocean and I can give you a bath and wash and comb your pretty hair and we can be together and you can sing me a song, hmm?” Shaya’s voice was a consoling and motherly tone, her hands brushing back Seonna’s bloodied blond hair.



“I don’t want to go with you tonight, Shaya. I just want to be alone, Dove.”

There was fear in Seonna’s voice - subtle but there. The word ‘Dove’ used in trepidation

to avert another storm of rage.



Shaya’s features grew dark, lines splaying out from the corners of her eyes and a

slight crease forming in her brow. She could sense Seonna’s fear, and it angered her.



“Seonna dear. Kiss me.” She drew her face in, but Seonna tried to push herself

away, and Shaya gripped tighter. “Kiss me!” she hissed in frustration.



Seonna was struggling to escape Shaya’s grasp. So seldom had she seen her act this way to her and she was terrified now. “Please let me go, Shaya, please let me go!”



“Stop it! STOP IT! Just sing for me, just SING!” Shaya’s voice was shrill and crazed - Seonna’s weakness driving her into a maddened frenzy. Her left hand gripped and twisted into a lock of Seonna’s hair, her right hand forcing the woman down to her knees by the shoulder. “WHY WON’T YOU SING!” Not even a question, but her free hand clutching onto Seonna’s throat.



“All I want is a song, stupid girl, all I want is a song and you won’t give it, you won’t give it because he ruined everything! I want your song and I’ll make you sing, girl! I’ll make you sing and sing and sing!” Shaya buried her face against Seonna’s, viciously biting into her lip and tearing the wound open fiercely.



There was an undeniable heat of rage and blood, and Shaya had lost all reason. Seonna’s eyes darted around and her fingers clutched futilely in desperation at Seonna, a powerful wail of pain and raw fear erupting from her throat.



“Hush! Hush now, not this song!” And Shaya’s left drew inwards across Seonna’s throat - choking her with her own hair. Drawing the hair tight reduced the wail to a gurgle, and pulling it back around the neck and across the chest, back, waist, thigh and leg bound the girl. With her right she held onto Seonna’s neck and pulled downwards so she could touch the ground with the hair.



In an ancient tongue she howled a short phrase, and the lock of Seonna’s hair began to grow hard, constricting her and leaving her hunched backwards and trapped in that awkward position. Her hands free, Shaya clutched Seonna’s face and she screamed with bestial fury into it, before burying her tear-streamed face against the poor girls’ bloodied bosom.



“Seonna - my sweet, sweet Seonna…” she cried. “I’m so sorry for what he made me do, but it’s going to be ok, Seonna. It’s ok, I can fix this. I know what to do, I promise, girl. Don’t be scared, I can bring us together, make you strong. I can bring us together, you know, we can always be together just be a good girl and don’t be afraid.” Her voice frantic and almost scared now, her disguise of beauty failing rapidly as she traced a design on her left palm with her right index finger.



Without warning she slapped Seonna’s throat with her left palm, grasped her right hand about her neck and sunk her teeth directly and brutally into each underside of her jaw. Angry wounds pumped blood violently forth, and the old woman drank greedily of it. The only sound was Seonna’s ragged gasps for air.



Only a moment went by before the blood suddenly went thick and black, yet pumped even more viciously from her. Shaya withdrew then, and pulled up a sleeve of her gown. This time she tore a huge wound in her elbow notch, spurting forth a stream of impossibly brilliant crimson blood. “You have to drink now, my sweet girl, and you and I can be with each other no matter where we are. I’ll be a part of you and you will be a part of me! Drink girl!”



“STOP!” The word instantly stripped the remaining guise of beauty from Shaya, left her blood-streaming arm suspended in the air. Ell moved impossibly swift, his hand snatching Shaya’s arm from the air and snapping it effortlessly. He shoved her to the ground, his command and the subsequent shock of pain paralyzing the old woman.



Towering above her, there was a terrible sense of purpose to him. “I cannot...” He bent down, his heavy knee crushing into her chest. “Forgive this.” This time Shaya did see the blade, now in Ell’s hand.



“You speak curses against your family. You tear holes in our Godhood and flesh with your hands. Your eyes see nothing as sacred. You are a force of chaos, Shaya, this girl – she was one of us. She loved you and you loved her, yet look at what you have done to her. Imprisoned by her own body and immortality, her perpetual wound spilling blood even I cannot stem. I refuse to end the life of the last of a species, and if ever I have learned something it’s that each of us Gods are just that – our own species. However, I cannot allow you to come for me on your terms – for I will surely fall. As you have taken liberties with her flesh – so shall I yours.”



And with that, he set about his grisly task.