Stories By A Dreamer

[Athilea Majiri]

Okay, so since there is a thread where I can share my writing, I am going to.

Let me start, however, by sharing a little about myself. I am a mother, a wife, and a business woman. I would rather be a stay at home mommy, but times just don't allow for that anymore. My son is only 17 months old at this point.

I have a lot of Fan-fiction so you will see a lot of it on this forum. I don't like sharing a lot of my original work on the internet because I feel like it would be to easily stolen if I were to.

Anyway, I will post more about me when I'm not so tired. For now, enjoy and let me know what you think.

[Athilea Majiri]

The first is a Fanfiction written about my character in Aion. An Asmodian Cleric.

The Lie of Perfection

Athilea was born into a loving family of noble blood, her parents were Kalil and Isen Majiri. To anyone that watched her childhood she seemed to have the perfect life. It, in fact, would not be far from the truth to say as much. Nothing, however, is perfect. Perfection itself is a lie. The family had its secrets, and it's troubles. The Majiri family also had the high expectations for their young daughter that one might expect of a noble family. She, however, was not the socialite they had hoped for.

Even at a young age, Athilea found that she enjoyed spending the majority of her time in her parents musty library. The company of old books with yellowed pages appealed to her more than playing with the other, snobby children. When her parents did force her out of the house and into their company, they would pick at her relentlessly. She was different from them, and they did not like it.

Her attitude towards the Asmodian nobles that surrounded her did not change over the years. Quite the opposite happened as she became more and more reclusive. She spend so much of her time in the library that servants would often find her asleep over the very books she loved so much on almost every morning. This was a fact that bothered her parents a great deal more then it really should have.

Once she reached an appropriate age to be married, her parents began to make arrangements with would be suitors. Athilea had no interest in the men that came to visit her, however. Men that had roaming eyes and vast imaginations for what was hidden by her clothing. They would pull the books from her hands and speak to her of glorious battles that were so far embellished that they belonged in a bards heroic tale. The young woman would just nod and feign interest until they left, and then she would return to her studies.

One day, though, two of her suitors came to her at the same hour. Promptly, of course, they began to argue about who had more right to be there. She watched in growing annoyance as the argument came to blows and one of the men was knocked to the ground with a bloody nose. Before she had time to consider what she was doing, Athilea rushed over to intercede. She waved a hand in a dismissive gesture towards the agressor, muttering what might have been a curse under her breath, and he quickly found himself held in place by roots that had suddenly broken through the stone floor. He yelped, and fell back as he tried to break away. She paid no attention to him, though, she was too busy dragging the other man out of his reach. Again she muttered something as she examined his nose, and found that the break had been healed. Both men stared at her in wide eyed astonishment for what seemed an eternity before she told them in a cold, level voice to leave.

Her life grew more hectic from that day forward. The local priesthood gave her no peace as they attempted to ascertain the extent of her new found abilities. Everyone, especially the girl, were curious to find how well she could heal without formal training. She was astonished that she could do so at all, as there were no hints to her abilities before hand. It was time to train though.

Athilea spend less time in her parents library when the training began. She was only one of two adults taking the lessons, and as such it was decided that they should be taught separate of the others. The other to train with her was a man that was not much older than herself. He had sharp features and a strong jaw with short, teal colored hair that matched his skin color perfectly. His keenly intelligent eyes were a dark green that set her stomach to fluttering every-time he looked at her. It seemed that he could see into her very soul. His name was Theoric.

As her training continued she found excuses to spend extra time with Theoric outside of her studies. He had a charismatic personality that tended to draw people, especially women, to him. He was a leader, perfect for the roles that so many suitors had placed themselves in. The man had never, however, bragged of prior battles though his military past was obvious from the way he bore himself. When he asked Kalil for her hand in marriage, Athilea could hardly contain her excitement. He was perfect.

There is no such thing as perfection. Theoric had his own secrets. Secrets that could destroy his new fiances family. He had plans that had been years in the making, and the Majiri's were walking right into his trap.

The same night that he asked for her hand a feast was held. Her family swelled with pride for their daughters choice. The could now see why she had rejected so many before choosing this statuesque man. They even questioned why they had tried to force marriage upon her in the first place, when she could make such a wonderful choice. It was Aions will, and that was the only answer they needed.

Theoric and his family were provided with rooms in their large and well appointed home so that they would have no need to travel after the feast. She could not wipe the smile from her face as she spent the entire evening in his arms. She seemed to glow with her own happiness. If her new found love acted differently that she attributed it to the wine. It was such an occasion that even she drank far more then she should have.

When the night ended he attempted to gain early access to her bed chambers as would be expected of him. He kissed her and whispered in her ear persuasively, and just as he had almost convinced her to do just that, her childhood nurse came to her rescue and shooed him away. Athilea was ushered into her room quickly, scolded thoroughly, and locked in. As soon as she lay her head on the pillow she drifted into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of her husband to be.

[Athilea Majiri]

The Lie of Perfection Continued


Hours later she awoke to the creak of her heavy, wooden door being opened. Her eyes were blurry and her head swam as she tried to make out the silhouette. It had to be a servant, possibly her childhood nurse. It was no unusual for her parents have someone check on her. They worried of their daughter and the amount of sleep she was getting. The person that intruded on her rest this night, however, was large and silent. He did not call out to her, but the fluttering in her stomach when he kissed her told her who it was.

"Theoric?" Her voice was quiet and breathless, "You should not be here. If you ar-..."

He quieted her by placing another kiss on her lips, "Come with me, dear."

The womans natural curiosity got the better of her. She followed him without question, trusting to easily in his motives. Theoric lead her to the gardens while those he claimed as 'family' stole through her home. They were silent and methodical in their work, anyone in their way was killed swiftly. As they reached the largest tree in the garden he kissed her again as only a lover would, his hands slid over her side and came to rest at the small of her back. If they can keep silent long enough, he though, then she will have to comply.

A long, high pitched scream shattered the silence. Theoric and Athilea both jumped at the sudden sound, though he cursed under his breat as though angry. A red-orange glow lit the sky over the house, a fire had started and was spreading rapidly. Fear on the edge of panic replaced the blissfully happy expression on her face. She tried to pull away from her beloved, moving in the direction of the burning house, but he held her. The man whispered in her ear as a lover, with an edge of anger, "If you come with me, love, your parents will be safe. If you do not, then they will be killed."

Her black eyes grew wide with shock and her legs gave out. The same man she had expected to spend her life with let her fall to the ground. His arms grossed over his broad chest and he glared down at her. This is not what I intended! Those fools! It was obvious that he expected her to comply with him. This was not something that she could do when her family was in trouble. She had to fight.

Theoric continued, a smug look in his eyes, "What is it, my love? Are things not turning out the way you expected?" He stressed the word love as though it were an insult, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Athilea glared at him as she stood slowly. How could she have let herself be so blinded? "Let me pass, Theoric!" She moved forward and attempted to move around him. He twisted around, grabbed her shoulders and slammed her head against the trees rough bark, "You will do as I tell you, wench." His voice was low, almost a growl as he reached up and put one hand around her throat, "If you do not then I will ensure that your parents, and everyone you love, is killed."

There were pinpricks of pain where his talons began to dig into her neck. She panicked and her talons cut deep gouges into his hand in her attempt to escape. Theoric let out a howl of pain and released his hold on her. Athilea fell to the hard packed ground gasping for breath and coughing. He was, however, working through his pain with anger. A string of curse words was all the heard before he was on her and the world went black.

[Athilea Majiri]

The Lie of Perfection Continued

Minutes, hours, days...how long had passed? Everything was a blur, but the memories were there. She had been betrayed. Her entire family had been. Black eyes flickered open to a world that was fuzzy and grey. A world that was so filled with smoke and ash that it was choking. She blinked rapidly to clear her eyes and found that the sky glowed even more brightly with the glow of fire. The whole house must have been ablaze, maybe even the surrounding gardens.

She attempted to move but quickly found that either her 'beloved' or his 'family' had bound her. Athilea struggled against the rough rope that bit cruely into her delicate wrists, but when she cried out it was muffled by the gag that had been stuffed into her mouth. Someone was talking nearby, but the voices were to low and fast for her to understand what was said. They had noticed her movement, and the sound she made. One of them came to loom over her, a woman with sharp angular features and harsh green eyes set in alabaster skin.

"So ye be wakin' up now, eh? I suppose I should git tha Cap'in." The womans eyes narrowed as she prodded her captives side with the tip of her muddy boot, "Don' know what he be meanin' ta do with ye, lass, but I'm guessing tha' ye won' be likin' it."

She turned away with the cackle of a madwoman as she moved out of sight. Athilea had time to realize that her face felt swollen and sticky with congealing blood. She could not see out of her left eye and suspected that she would find it blackened if she were to look in a mirror. Theoric was there in moments glaring down at her. He had four deep gouges on his face that she could not remember inflicting on him.

"You, my dear, have failed to comply. I will show you what you strong-headed ways have cost you."

She felt herself lifted to a sitting position and would have screamed at the nightmare laid before her had she been able to breath. The dark eye she could still use properly was wide with shock as unhindered tears sprung to her eyes. The estate was a blazing fire that lighted the sickening scene. Every tree on the grounds had servant and nobel alike hung by the neck from their stout branches. Some of them were bloody from the fighting, others looked as though they had been killed prior to being strung up, while still others looked as though they had simply surrendered. The women were naked and likely violated before they had been killed.

Athilea struggled against the ropes that bound her again. The young Cleric had rediscovered the ability to breath as grief took her and illicited screams that did not sound beyond the ground because of her gag. Her entire family, her nurse, everyone she had truly known was dead. Or so she had thought until Theoric knelt before her. He took her chin roughly in one of his hands. When he spoke there was a dengerous note in his tone, "I tire of these games, Athilea." He made a gesture towards the estate grounds that encompassed everything, "You will meet their fate if you do not cooperate."

Her thoughts began to race. What could he possibly want from me? There is nothing left. They are all gone.

Her eyes darted between him and the vision of her worst nightmare come to life. He took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet with a weary sigh. Dramatically, perhaps to dramatically, he turned from her, "Where have your parents gone? They have managed to elude us thus far. You must know of secret passages in the house." When he looked back at her a cruel grin spread across his lips at the sudden, hopeful look in her black eyes, "You have but to tell us of their locations and you will be set free."

He had misunderstood the expression. Her parents were still alive. Just as suddenly as hope had sprung to life it was replaced by a clouded, distant expression. If they were not killed than they must have escaped. Why had they left us all to die, even me? The only conclusion she could come to was that they thought themselves so much better than the rest of the household that they did not deem even their daughter worthy of rescue. Even with that thought dancing around in her mind she could not tell them where her parents would have gone.

She found her will to speak as the woman removed the gag at a motion from her Captain. "I do not know where they have gone." Her voice was raspy from screams she could not remember, "If they have a route to safety then I am unaware of it."

He growled, grabbing her face again. The man almost screamed at her in his rage at her defiance, "Then you will suffer their fate!"

[Athilea Majiri]

The Lie of Perfection End

Athilea watched in stunned silence as her captors readied a noose and it was fixed to one of the trees stout branches. Her expression was schooled to stillness though her thoughts were a jumble of terror that darted around her mind quickly. The thought of death terrified her as it would anyone but a Daeva. She was not immortal though, when she died she would remain that way. Her thoughts, however, did not show on her face. Her killers would not have the satisfaction of seeing her fear, and she would not bend to their will and betray her families secrets...whatever the cost.

When the sky began to lighten with the coming of dawn the woman with the sharp features came to stand over her again. Suddenly she was lifted and made to stand on a wobbly stool that had been placed directly beneath the rope. The loop of the noose was draped around her neck and tightened to a snug fit. As his lackeys moved from in front of her Theoric walked up to the Cleric again. He reached up and carressed her cheek, his talons trailing down her smooth skin lightly until they trailed along the rough rope.

"This can still be stopped, my love." He smiled, but the look did not touch his eyes. "There are things that you do not know." The tone of his voice was meant to be soothing and persuasive, instead it left her feeling sick. She had trusted him more then anyone before him. His perfect personality was nothing but a lie though. When he motioned to the burned out shell that was the remnants of her estates and the nightmare that was laid out before it. Athilea found it difficult to stay on her feet. All she wanted was to fall to her knees and beat her fists on the cold ground as she wallowed in her despair for a while. "You would learn why this was necessary if only you would cooperate."

The Cleric set her jaw and stared straight forward, unable to stop the flow of tears that fell down her cheeks. She would not flinch away from him, she would not show him more then the most minimal amount of her pain. Her mouth did not open to respond to him. The man staring intently at her was not allowed to see her fear of him and of the death that he would bring her. He pulled his teeth back in a snarl and nodded to the man that was to execute her. As she chair was kicked from beneath her she had time to realize that it was her birthday just before the rope grew taunt. The fall, however, did not break her neck. Instead the noose constricted around her throat and cut off her ability to breath. Death seemed to take an eternity as she struggled against her bonds and made strangled attempts to gasp for air.

When death was finally taking her within it's cold, cruel grasp with what should have been her last attempt at breath, black wings tore through the skin on her back. Theoric and his men stared at her limp body in wide eyed disbelief. Her ascension had come to late to save her from her fate, but she would live again. The looks they exchanged showed that they all feared the wrath of an angry Daeva. She would return to find them....