The Chronicles of Valen
“Disclaimer: Valen, Nathyrra, The Seer, and several of the other characters are the property of Bioware. If you’ve played the game, you’ll recognize them. The rest is the invention of my twisted little imagination, including Morrighu Badb and the goddess she serves.”
~*~
The Adventures of Valen Shadowbreath
~*~
Prologue
An old and grizzled tiefling sits at the tavern table across from a young elf bard. The young bard sizes up the tiefling, thinking to himself that he doesn’t look like much. He is old and thin and seems too frail to have ever been involved in some of the great deeds he’s claimed to any who would listen. He’s unable to see anything that looks like a redoubtable warrior in the old tiefling but no one cares if the tale is true, only that it is a good tale.
The elf cocks a brow at the tiefling, “I am a collector of tales. It goes with the occupation. I will buy your ale for as long as you can keep me interested in your tale.”
The tiefling laughs bitterly, “I have tales upon tales that I could tell you. I have seen things, in my travels that no one would believe. There is one tale though that I always tell because I seek her still. We parted badly because of my stubborn pride, but no other has claimed my heart before or since. I will tell you of wars won and love lost. Bards always seem to know things and to pass tales around. Perhaps you will have heard of my love, my beautiful one. I would find her again, if only to tell her I am sorry. The reason that I ask for the ale is that it is the only consolation I have left. My time grows short and I have not been able to find her again. Even if I do not find her, it is a tale worthy of an epic ode. Perhaps if I tell you, bard, you will write the ode and she will hear it in some tavern. If she does, she will know that I have never stopped loving her and that I am sorry to have hurt her so.”
The bard looks at the tiefling carefully, “Wars won and love lost sounds like something I would care to hear.”
The tiefling nods, “It truly should be an epic. It all began when I still served the Seer, in the Underdark. It was when we faced the Valsharess and her arch-devil.”
~*~
The Arrival
Halaster ignores the screams of agony and the thrashing convulsions that rip through the paladin as he begins mumbling the transportation spell. Nathyrra heads for her side just as he makes the final gesture.
A huge ball of eye-wateringly bright white light erupts around them. When it fades, the Halasters continue their argument over who is the original and who is the copy.
~*~
In the central hall of the temple in Lith My’athar, the bright white ball of light appears and then seems to shrink in upon itself. When it fades, it leaves a drow and paladin in its wake.
The paladin, reeling from the agony of Halaster’s geas and still more than half-blinded by the teleportation spell, senses rather than sees many moving toward her. She senses that Nathyrra is behind her and moving toward her, but ignores that for the moment. There are too many others here for her to pay much attention to a known quantity.
She grimaces inside her helm as she coughs again and more blood comes. The copper taste of it in her mouth is nearly enough to make her gag, but there’s no time for that now. She draws both of her blades and braces herself. They seem to be shouting to each other in alarm, though she doesn’t understand the language. Still, the tone of voice makes it obvious that they’re not a welcome wagon.
She thinks to herself, “What in the name of the Nine Hells has Halaster dropped me into? This place is swarming like an ant’s nest. Damn his hide!”
Fighting blind poses no great difficulty for her, even in a strange place. Her former masters and her goddess have trained her well. She strikes her stances and waits a few moments to allow her opponents to approach more closely. The guards continue to pound their clumsy way toward her and, even in her weakened state she dismisses them as a threat. They are sloppy and careless in their movements - not well trained by her standards at all. Through all the commotion, she catches hints of someone besides the ponderous guards.
“That one,” she thinks, “is going to be a problem.”
She catches his footfalls as he approaches swiftly even though she can hear that it’s accompanied by the creak of heavy armor. She focuses more closely and her estimation rises even further. Making a swift tactical decision, she decides to confront him first, before her strength fails her completely.
As she moves toward him, she gets some inkling of his size and cringes inwardly - big and fast will likely be lethal in her current condition. Even in her weakened condition, she is determined that they will not take her easily.
Even as she moves into the first steps of her dance with death, a woman’s voice, full of authority cries out “Hold! All of you - Do you not recognize one of our own?”
Still blinded and weakening rapidly, she feels a gentle hand tug on her arm, urging her to lower the swords. “Come, we mean you no harm.”
She is startled because, even blinded; no one should be able to approach that closely without her knowledge. She flinches from the touch instinctively even though she senses no harm from the speaker.
Nathyrra notices droplets of blood dripping from her elbow and pooling on the ground below and begins to realize how badly injured the paladin is.
Nathyrra starts to approach her, but the paladin, uncertain as to who is approaching, flinches again so she speaks from a distance, “Truly, we are among friends. No one here will harm you. There are those here who would help you. Lower your weapons and let us tend you.”
Morrighu coughs and chokes for a moment before speaking wetly, “I have halted. Had I not, at least six of you would be dead by now. As things stand, I dare not move lest I harm one of you. I am blind and my other senses are failing rapidly. One of you must take these blades from me. Mind the edges well or you’ll find your fingers on the floor.”
Valen edges his way through the front ranks of the Seer’s guards that surround the armored figure, “Warrior, I understand your predicament. If you will be still, I will take your blades and sheath them.”
Even at this distance he is unable to tell if the armored figure is male or female and the voice echoing as it does inside the helm, gives him no clue either.
“Fair warning,” she replies, “I may not stand or if I do it will not be for long after they leave my grip. My blades and I have a…symbiotic relationship. They are all that sustain me now.”
She hears the one who has spoken to her approach and he seems to be deliberately making enough noise that she can track his movements even in her current state.
He speaks to her softly, “I will take the sheaths from you first.”
She feels gentle hands loosen the buckles and remove the sheaths from her belt. She feels his hands grasp her arm and guide first one blade and then the other into the sheaths with a surprising delicacy.
“Now” he says as he steps back “your blades are sheathed and still in your hands. If you will permit me, I will remove your armor so that our healer may tend whatever damage you have sustained.”
He hears a long string of angry words in a language he doesn’t recognize, which is unusual, since he’s learned at least a smattering of every language he’s ever encountered.
The helmed head tilts back and angry scream issues forth in Common. “Halaster, if you can hear me, you bastard, when this is over, you’d best be prepared. I have a bone to pick with you.”
With that the armored figure starts to collapse but drops instead to its knees, supported by leaning heavily on the two sheathed swords. The armored figure tries desperately to rise back to its feet.
Valen watches, slightly awed, at the sheer will of the figure as it slips in a pool of its own blood while it still struggles to stand.
After a few moments, Valen can’t stand watching the struggle any more so he speaks again, careful to keep his voice calm, “Be still and I will help you stand.”
The figure stops its painful struggle and turns its face toward him, seeking his voice “Better yet, help me out of this helm before I choke. I hope your healer is a good one.”
Valen notices that there is blood seeping from the breathing slots on the front of the helm and that a thin trickle runs down the breastplate. He realizes that the figure must be nearly drowning.
He moves swiftly to armored figure and kneels next to it. Gingerly, he reaches out and removes the helm.
He is shocked to see long red hair, only a few shades darker than his own down tumble out of the helm. His eyes widen at the realization that it is a woman. His first concern is the blood.
There seems to be so much of it – too much of it. Her nose, her ears, and her mouth all bleed. She topples weakly to her side and coughs again, and more blood comes. It spreads in a crimson pool on the marble floor of the temple.
She lays there with her sides heaving, too weak to move or even care where she is. Nathyrra doesn’t seem to be concerned about their whereabouts and she isn’t in any condition to fight so it seems best to be compliant. Nathyrra called them friends so perhaps she is safe enough.
Nathyrra, concerned kneels next to the paladin and says “What has damaged you so, Morrighu?”
Morrighu gasps for the air to speak, “Halaster’s geas. It fights with my goddess…” and with that she is mercifully unconscious.
The Seer beings casting healing spells immediately, some help but others do not so she stops. “Nathyrra, did she mention what goddess it is that she serves?”
Nathyrra looks perplexed, “No, Mother Seer, we never had a chance to discuss it.”
Valen looks down at her and says “Though she is human, her features are like none of the humans I have encountered on Toril. None of the markings on her armor are familiar at all and I think…I think I heard her cursing in a language I don’t even recognize. While I dislike it, I think perhaps we should search her pack to see if there is not some clue as to the nature of her goddess.”
Another voice interrupts them “There is no need for that. I have come.”
With everyone focused on the fallen paladin before them, no one has noticed that a goddess has arrived. The spectral form of the goddess glides forward and crouches next to the paladin.
A gentle hand reaches out and drapes across her forehead “Peace, daughter. It is not yet your time, but I need to read your memories to see exactly what it is that Halaster has done to you.”
The paladin twitches into consciousness, “I have never held anything from you, my goddess. I would ask that you do something quickly though…” and her back arches in a spasm that makes her armor creak “it burns.”
The goddess sighs “You must set an anchor so that I can loosen the ties that bind you to your body in order to ease your pain while I work.”
The paladin coughs weakly, “You, the one who took my blades and my helm…are you still here?”
Valen scoots closer to the figure and says “I am.”
“I would ask another kindness of you, if I may. I need an anchor to tie me to this world. If you are willing, I…I would have that be you.”
Valen thinks for a moment “What is required of me?”
The paladin coughs again, enlarging the stain on the floor, “All you must do is hold my hand. For the sake of whatever you hold holy, just do not let go. I would not become a wandering spirit.”
“Here,” and a hand reaches blindly toward him “take my gauntlet and glove off, and yours too, if you wear such.”
Valen strips his gauntlet and then removes the one from the hand reaching for him. The first thing that strikes him is the tattoos – they start at the tips of her fingers and run as far as he can see up her arm.
He takes her hand and gasps at the contact. “I can see why you think it burns. You feel like a forge.”
He feels the grip loosen suddenly, “I do not wish to hurt you.”
He wraps his other hand over hers, maintaining the contact, “Be still. You do me no harm; heat has little effect on me, thanks to my blood. I will hold, I swear it.”
The paladin groans. “Very well, then. I shall place my mark.”
A few moments later, “My goddess, the anchor is set. I am prepared – do what you must.”
Valen looks up at the goddess as he runs a thumb across the back of her hand, “Even her skin is bleeding.”
The goddess nods grimly and says, “Let us begin by moving her. I will have to strip her and it should not be so…public.”
Valen looks at Imloth and says, “Can you lift her? I would but I do not think I could let go of her hand even if I wished to.”
Imloth hands his weapons to a subordinate and bends down and hefts the paladin, struggling under the weight of the woman and her gear.
The Seer points to a doorway at the back of the Temple. “Nathyrra, go and warn them that men will be coming through the women’s quarters.”
Nathyrra scurries ahead to carry out the Seer’s request and to clear a room where the paladin can be cared for.
Imloth follows Nathyrra into a room with a single bed in the center and lays the paladin out, still clinging to Valen’s hand.
The goddess surveys the room “This will work admirably. I thank you for your hospitality, Seer. If you could have the men leave…”
Imloth and the other males head out the door.
Valen waits a moment and then speaks. “What of me?”
The goddess fixes him with a stare “You must stay, you are her anchor. She has placed a marker upon you that will let her spirit find her body again when I am done. However, for the sake of modesty, you may wish to face away.”
With that Valen begins loosening his other gauntlet with his teeth and strips it away. He begins the process of attempting to swap hands so that he can turn his back, however, he finds that he cannot loosen the grip the paladin has on his hand.
He blushes furiously. “Seer, perhaps you can blindfold me…I am unable to swap hands and cannot seem to find an angle where I will not have…um…a view.”
The Seer laughs. “Nathyrra, bring Valen a chair. I fear that he will need to be comfortable. And Valen, just close your eyes or become quite familiar with your feet.”
The goddess addresses Valen. “Take her blades and wear them. I charge you with them until she wakes again.”
Valen cracks an eyelid cautiously and sees that she is still clothed. He reaches for each blade, to stuff them into his belt. While he is reaching for the second blade, the goddess waves a hand and the paladin’s armor disappears.
The padding beneath it is covered in spreading red blotches. He grimaces in sympathy and quickly shoves the second blade into his belt. He sits back in his chair and lowers his head to stare at the hand he holds.
Unconsciously, his fingers begin tracing the loops and whorls of her tattoos.
The goddess again lays her hand across the forehead of the paladin.
A few moments later, he hears her, “Damn Halaster. I shall deal with him myself. If I remove the geas completely, I sever the thread of life. If do not, she still cannot live, the geas and my power war within her. I have to find a way to reconcile my power with this geas. Tell me what you know of this enemy, the Valsharess.”
The Seer speaks first. “Nathyrra, would you be so kind.”
Valen interrupts. “Can you not simply withdraw your power from her? Would that not end the war that saps her life?”
The goddess turns to look at him, while he stares studiously at his feet, and sighs, “If it were that simple, I would do so gladly. However, this is no mere paladin before you. She is One of Four of My aspects in the prime and of the four, she is the most potent. She has been a vessel for My power for many normal human lifetimes. If I withdraw, she dies. The only choice is to reconcile the two.”
Valen clears his throat “We still have not asked your name, goddess, or what you are the goddess of.”
With that the goddess laughs, “It seems that My Chosen has a defender. Very well, I shall answer your question. I am Morrighu, Queen of Battle. The short answer to your question is that I am the goddess of battle in a just cause. I have four aspects - Badb, Nemhain, Macha, and Feya. Badb, who is here before you, is the aspect that deals with rage and frenzy of battle. Feya is the aspect that deals with battle magic. Nemhain deals with panic, confusion, and discord. Macha deals with choosing the slain, the circle of life, fertility, and child birth.”
Nathyrra speaks questioning “But her name is Morrighu, or so she told me.”
The goddess sighs “That it is. When she became a vessel for my power, her own name was put aside and she took the name of one of My aspects. The next time her born name is used, it will be on her funeral monument.”
Nathyrra peers closely at the goddess “Was she chosen because she resembles you?”
The goddess sighs again. “No, My power has and will continue to slowly reshape her. If she is strong enough, and I think she may be, she will, in time, fully become one of My aspects.”
Valen speaks again. “If you seek battle in a just cause, then there should be no conflict between Halaster’s geas or your power. They should be in agreement. We face a would-be queen, a Valsharess in the drow tongue, who would grind an entire world beneath her boot heel and she has bound an arch-devil to her service in order to achieve her goals. I think you would be hard pressed to find a cause more just. However, as a planar, I find that deities move for their own reasons with little care for mortal concerns.”
The goddess laughs. “And a bold defender, at that. The answer to your unasked question, defender, is that I seek worshipers in the prime. All deities are dependent on their worshippers for their power. More worshipers equates to more power.”
“With Lolth either missing or dead,” she gestures at the Seer, “and no offense to Eilistraee, the drow seem to be in need of a slightly more martial goddess in order to stabilize drow society. Therefore, I have sent My aspect here to see if I can fill the void Lolth has left. That said, my aspects are uniquely suited to dealing with the infernal. Now, let Me see what I can do for My Chosen.”
With that she places her hands on either side of the paladin’s head and a slight frown of concentration crosses her face, “While I am unable to remove the geas, I should be able to…shift it so that it is less problematic.”
Valen grunts in pain as he feels her grip tighten and a quick glance at her arm shows every tendon and muscle in stark relief. He is the first to feel the tremors of the coming seizure.
Without thinking, he pulls a knife from his belt and shoves the sheath between her teeth. “Nathyrra, hold her down and try not to let her hurt herself. Seer, anything you can do, do now. I fear we are loosing her.”
The goddess looks at him. “Do not let go of her hand. She is not as hurt by this as you would think, since her spirit wanders free of her body. When I call, she will follow the mark she placed on you back,” and she returns to her task.
The Seer takes a rag soaked in a healing potion and begins to wipe down the unconscious paladin. “This will stop some of the bleeding without adding more magic to her system.”
The rag steams slightly and the contents of the bowl become increasingly red after each use, but it seems to soothe her somewhat.
Valen holds her on the bed, pinned between his knee and his free hand, while she thrashes.
Nathyrra says, “I think the goddess might be right, Valen. She did this before, when Halaster placed the geas. Tampering with it might have the same effect.”
Finally, the convulsions halt as suddenly as they began and Valen realizes that he’s sitting on a bed with a naked woman he doesn’t know pinned against him. He also realizes that her body temperature has dropped to something approaching normal and that her grip on his hand is no longer painful.
Eve felt her body near the convulsing orgasm that tired to heave way through her small body. Her sex muscle clenching down hard as she felt the flow of her own natural womanly juices escape her.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Eve was rocking her body in an up and down motion to the wonderful feeling of the warm mouths suckling at her flesh…. “YES!!!”
“Oh!” Constance gasped as she released Eve’s nipple. Her small firm butt in Varia’s hand. “Ooooh mommy! My pussy is itching sooo bad!”
Eve let out a silent giggle as she remembered hearing Constance saying those words she herself had said to her own mother… Xena… that wonderful lover and hero that she called, mother.
The two women had lead Eve into her own personal hut. Varia turned to Constance and asked her to wait outside for a moment.
“Okay, well hurry up… it’s freezing.” Constance complained.
“Bitch, bitch, bitch.” Varia laughed. “Try doing something else for a change.”… she disappeared from her adopted daughters sight into the hut.
“Eve.” She spoke softly.
Eve, who had just this moment ago, laid upon her bed in complete exhaustion, looked up at the Amazon Queen who spoke her name just now.
“I’m telling you, hon.” Varia began. “I saw the way Constance was looking at you… I think she feels that she’s falling in love with you. I’m very concerned about that.”
“I don’t know if I can love her like that, Varia.” Eve told her.
“I know…” Varia held her hand up in a silence gesture to Eve. “I know… You’ve told me about Alissa and the whole deal of her being the last and only love of your life.”
She pulled a red sash from a chest in Eve’s room. A chest Eve was told earlier in her stay, not to open.
“I do believe however,… that you might be able to help me with her.” Varia sat behind Eve. She slowly began to remove Eve’s robe from her body, Eve’s naked form brought light to the room.
“Aimee wants to betroth herself to Constance.” Varia told Eve. “They were once very close and in love. Lately however… things have began to calm down. I know they belong together, and I know you can help me with them.”
“If I can help you, I’d love to.” Eve told her.
“Good…” Varia was looking down at the time, and then turned her eyes up into Eve’s. “I love her so much.”
Constance waited outside in the cold, thinking about the sexual enjoyments of the day passed with Eve. She was lost in her wet feeling rushing through her loins, causing her head to spin even more.
“Constance.” Varia called from inside of the hut.
With a heavenly smile on her lips, just picturing the pussy she was about to enjoy for the rest of the night to come.
“Coming.” She answered gleefully as she opened the front of the hut where her love making would move on through the night.
She stopped dead in her tracks as she came face to face with two women who stood before her in all of their naked glory. One being her mother of adoption the other being her new lover.
Her breath was completely taken away as her eyes locked on the sight of her new lover Eve standing naked, her eyes staring seductively while her hand’s rested on her own hips, posing in her black stalkings, with a big red bow tied over her breasts.
“Oh my.” Constance was standing stark still in the dim light, looking on into the eyes of the beautiful, enticing form of Eve.
“Come here, Constance.” Varia motioned with her finger. “Come over here and unwrap your birthday present baby.”
Eve giggled slightly as she watched Varia sit in the far corner of the hut. Her legs drawn wide open as her hand moved down into her sex. Her eyes glazed over with sensual lust as she watched her daughter draw closer to the warrior woman who stood as tall as her short form possibly could.
“Wow.” Was all the spoken conversation that Constance could muster from behind her lips, and out her vocals.
With a short laugh of enjoyful delight, Eve reached her hands forth and took the young girls face in her hands. “That was about one of the sweetest thing’s anybody has ever said to me… thank you.”
With that, she planted a delightful kiss upon Constance’s lips before soothingly stroking her face and offering herself as a gift.
“Unwrap me, and play with your new toy as you wish.” Eve’s soft voice causing a much greater stir in Constance’s pussy.
“I…” her voice was stuck in a crocking manner. “i… want… to…”
“Yes?” Her face flushed red as Eve held her eyes with her own. “Tell me, Constance. Tell me what you want.”
“I want to have you …” Constance looked at Varia and back at Eve. Her face glowing with pure embarrassment at what she was about to ask. “I want to have you foot to head.”
Eve knelt before the girl and held her own hands behind her back… her chest pushed up at Constance, waiting to be free.
“Unwrap me, child. And you may have me anyway you want to.” Eve had a trace of pure sexual venom on her lips as she said those words.
Her breath stopping short as Constance knelt before her, her hands slowly with trembling fever reaching forth to take the red bow. Slowly, deliciously pulling at the fabric to release it from her lovers flesh. The feeling of virginity coming back to both women as the moment stretched for a time of a long tormenting duration.
“Oh Eve.” Constance moaned as she was brought to light of freeing Eve from the evil red bow that locked her bosoms within. “I love you so much.”
“I know you do hon.” Eve whispered as she locked her lips into her lovers. The two women, holding on another.
“Undress me.” Constance whispered a nervous command.
Eve’s lips curled into a mischievous smirk as her own hands reached into Constance’s robe, and embraced the naked truth confined within the walls of fabric. Her hot breath seething up Constance’s neck as her lips suckled forth, taking Constance’s flesh.
“Oh gods, Eve.” She was moaning at the feel of her flesh becoming a sexual feast for her new lover Eve. “Now, Eve… please,… I need you now.”
Eve stood, her hands pulling at Constance’s. The two ladies standing face to face before Eve gently pulled Constance to lay upon her soft bed. The young girl looking up into the face of the Angel she was overjoyed to have above her. Her mouth watering as she let her eyes trail down Eve’s body, to her dark wet sex.
Eve let out a short giggle near snort as her ears beheld a slight whimpering groan from Constance. She let her eyes follow Constance’s until she notice where they were and came to know exactly what she wanted.
“She looks hungry Eve.” Varia commented.
“Yes, she does.” Eve agreed as she gently knelt one knee on the left side of Constance’s head, and then placed the other knee on the right side. Lowering her pussy down over Constance’s beautiful face, before burring her own face into Constance’s young, near hairless pussy.
“OH GODS!” Varia moaned loudly as she watched the two women begin sampling at one another’s delicious pussies. Her own fingers working furiously into her own sweet wet sex.
“Mmmmmm Eve.” Constance was groaning in between laps with her tongue. Her lips locking on Eve’s beautiful clit and suckling in. Her own hips thrusting up into Eve’s face.
Both girls were moaning low but loud moans into each others pussies. Their hot breath churning deep within one another’s bellies as they feasted on the feast of wanton saints. Their passion burning deep holes within the others souls as their tongues and lips explored the depths of their sexual organs.
Eve’s body heaved a-top of Constance as her pussy worked to grab at the tongue that granted her delicious pleasure inside as her own lips whimpered into the young sex below her.
“OH!” Constance released Eve’s pussy from her own lips as her mouth opened wide in a loud hard groan as she felt the intoxicating pleasure brought on as her pussy succumbed to Eve’s fingers and lips.
Eve’s teeth gently took to Constance’s clit, nibbling, as two of her fingers worked deep inside of the youth. The heat of her touch sending the young girl into a frenzy of orgasmic eruptions from within her womb.
“Oh Gods! Eve! I’m cumming!” Constance was writhing beneath the warrior women who’s love and affection showered upon her mid section.
Her throat let loose a squeal as she felt two tongue moving inside of her sex all at once. Constance was dumbfounded to find both Eve and her mother Varia together taking their tastes of her pussy.
“Oh ma,… ma… oh mommy!” Constance was lost in a shake of convulsions while Eve and Varia enjoyed her youthful young sex. Their tongues playfully wrestling together within her pussy.
They both took great pleasure in bringing this young girl off. Tasting the forbidden juices that leaked from her sex as her multiple orgasms shot through her body like a hurricane.
“YES!!! YES!!! OH GODS!!!!!!!!!” Constance was calling out in unknown tongues. Her womanly opening was being devoured by two of the most beautiful women she had ever met in her life.
“Oh gods!” She was losing her conciseness rapidly in the touch of both Varia and Eve as they both took their enjoyments upon her.
They kept their tongues whirling and suckling at one another from inside of Constance’s pussy until they noticed her breathing shorten to a slight snore and her eyes glued shut in dreams.
When they disengaged from one another and looked over the young body of this sexually satisfied young girl. They broke into tears of laughter, arm in arm,… simply watching as she slept.
“Just like man, isn’t she?” Eve asked.
“What do you mean?” Varia asked.
“Get off, fall asleep, fuck the cuddling, I’m spent.” She answered.
Varia let out a short laugh as she ran her fingers through the girls hair. Her eyes beholding a beautiful girl that belonged to her forever.
“I’m a little tired myself, Eve.”
Eve rested her lips against Varia’s and laid herself down beside Constance… watching as Varia laid herself down on the other side. In the instance a seriousness came to Varia’s eyes as she looked into Eve’s.
“You’ve become as friendly to us as we have to you, but this means nothing, Eve.” Varia rested her head on the pillow. “We still don’t love or like you. We still have a lot of anger for what you have done. You are simply here as a present for my child, who so dearly wanted you. That is all…”
Words spoken that pierced deep in her heart. Eve turned over and laid her head to sleep… thinking of how much she deserved this hatred… but more so… after feeling the love and affection of Constance… she so hungered for those moments with Alissa again.
* * * * *
(((Will continue in, Episode 3: The Tribulation of Dead.)))
“In loving Memory of Hollan Stuart.”
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