Within the swirling Mist (IC) > Biographies

Chains and Pain; the Story of Joslyn Blake



The Nightmare…

        Her eyes fluttered open once again, the dim light of the room still being too bright for her to adjust to.  Each time she woke, it seemed like the metal bars of her prison had shrunk, growing smaller and closing in around her.  The only sound in the room she heard was the constant groaning of her mother, coming from the small, caged cell next to hers.  Her lips were cracked, blistered and oozing what tasted like pus.  Each breath burned her dry throat.  Her tongue was swollen, gritty like sand from the lack of water.  Days in this Hell had turned into weeks, which slowly became months and finally turned into years.  She was unsure of how long she had actually been in captivity, but there was no ignoring the fact that through these years she had watched her body grow into that of a woman’s. 

She drifted into the darkness once more, fatigue and hunger taking over her body… Her sleep was restless and dreamless…

   The deep cuts on her arm burned as she was grabbed, her mind being torn from the pitch black of her unconscious state.  Her body was limp, legs dragged through piles of dust and debris which causes the scrapes and burns to throb and sting.  Her attempt at a cry for help came out as no more than a weak groan, her throat much too dry to emit any intelligible sound.  A pain shot through her wrists as she was shackled once more, too weak to hold herself up.  All of her weight hung from the shackles, the jagged metal digging into her already raw skin.  She struggled as best as she could.  Her weak limbs ached from the movement.  In her time there she had learn that sometimes it was better to be silent and just endure your punishment.  Whipping was the worst at this point.  Her back was still covered in deep, raw lash marks, many of which had already become infected. 

   The red hot pain exploded through her back, shooting into the core of her body and causing her to gag, heaving up the only contents that her stomach held; bile.  She did her best to scream, only causing her throat to hurt more than it already did.  She could feel the warm blood spilling down her back.  Her body was broken…she knew she wouldn’t be able to last much longer…

Present Day…

   She shifted beneath the covers, crying out in her sleep though only to wake herself.  She shot up, eyes darting about the room as sweat poured down her forehead.  After a few moments her breathing calmed.  She glanced to her left, her gaze resting on Lucian who was still sound asleep.    The light sound of scratching could be heard against the door of the small inn room where they stayed.  She quietly climbed out of bed, stepping over their discarded articles of clothing and making her way over to the door.  Bending down she scooped up the small terrier that she now called her own.  She walked back over to the bed, laying the puppy at the foot of it before snuggling beneath the blankets once more. 

   The past few days had been an almost blur to her.  So many things had happened; so many things had been realized.  She was married now… It had happened so fast, yet she was still so happy and sure of the decisions she had made.  Things would be different now, and she was going to make sure of it…


Hidden Pain...

         She sat silent on the platform of the gallows, staring down at the scarred cross that had been branded on the inside of her wrist.  The scar itself was old, nearly four years, but the pain she felt when she had received it still weighed heavy on her heart.  Recently, memories of her past were plaguing her mind, and her dreams.  She had talked to Lucian about it, but it hadn’t helped much.  The more people knew, the weaker she seemed in their eyes.  At least that’s what she thought. 

   No one could ever understand how she felt… what she had gone through.  Well, maybe one person.  Jerolyn Rayne had been there throughout everything.  Hell, she had been the one to initiate much of the torturing she had been through.  She was the one who murdered her mother, there, right in front of her eyes.  Things were different now.  The girl remembered nothing, at least that’s what she claimed.  Jerolyn had saved Joslyn in more ways than one. 

   Days came and went.  Her and Lucian spent much of their time together.  He made her happy, and in turn she hoped that she did the same for him.  They had their fights, but in the end they were nothing more than petty quarrels.  At the end of the day they were happy, curled up tight in each others arms.  She felt safe with him, and she knew he wouldn’t abandon her.  As strange as it was the two were perfect for each other. 

   For the few past weeks she’d been feeling ill, though did her best to keep it to herself.  Her mind filled with ideas of the worst scenarios that could possibly make her sick.  Perhaps there was some type of internal damage from when she was in jail.  Maybe it was just a sickness that would leave her in time…  Or maybe it was something much, much more…

   The nightmares she had while she was in the care of Jusuf were almost as horrible as the torture she had endured for years of her life.  In the end, she knew she had no choice but to go see him once more.  There were questions she needed answered, and she knew she needed help that only he could provide…

Endless screams reverberate in the darkness
Ricocheting off damp walls
Words, like ice piercing a fragile heart
A poison, without cure
Lay me down, so I might go
To my bloody Heaven



   She was nearly unconscious when the cold, damp mist covered her small cell of a cage.  When she opened her eyes she felt nothing but the sting of brightness.  She could hardly stand it.  Everything was so bright.  Light reflected off of the flakes of snow that fell, covering her hair and her skin.  But she felt nothing, laying in silence and staring up at the bright sky, watching the small crystal flakes fall and land against her skin.  Her body was broken in many ways; beaten, used, tortured time and time again.  She was covered in heavily infected cuts.  Bones were broken and joints were dislocated.  She still couldn’t find anything more than a hoarse groan coming from where she once had been able to speak.  For the first time in years she felt at peace, though.   The pain was gone, and though she could see the snow falling she didn’t feel cold.  In her mind she knew it.  She was dead; saved.

   The crackling of burning logs filled her ears, tearing her from dreamless sleep.  It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting of the small interior of the wagon.  She sat up, groaning as a wave of pain from all of her broken bones shot through her body.  The approaching woman made her scurry towards the corner, huddling there, still wrapped in the warm fur blanket which had covered her during her sleep.   The soothing words of the woman were enough to bring tears to her dry eyes.  She knew she was safe. 

Present Day…

   She lay on her side, covered up by layers of blankets.  Lucian slept, his breathing soft and even.   She woke up numerous times during the night, though rarely ever woke him up for comfort.  She watched his chest rise and fall.  After a few moments her rolled over, subconsciously wrapping a strong arm around her bare form.  She nuzzled her face into his chest, deeply inhaling the soothing smell of his skin.  She was safe, and happy.



   She crept through the shadows, staying close to the quiet footsteps of her lover.  Damp, hot moisture dripped from the cavern walls, making the confined space all the muggier.  The stench of old, decaying flesh was near unbearable, but she knew a single word or complaint could cost her.  When the fight began she emerged from the shadows, bow in hand as she shot arrow after arrow at the back of her target.  She had to learn how to control her rage, unleashing it only at just the right moment.  One mishap and her fight would be lost. 

   It finally seemed like after months of living in Vallaki she was finally starting to actually become comfortable with local life.  She struggled to cope with the hate many Barovian’s felt towards the Outlander populace.  Things had been different with Roland.  They had both been disliked, and much of there time was spent away from those people who saw them as ‘disgusting’ and ‘lazy’.  It was different with Lucian.  She was surrounded by his people constantly, and she knew in her heart she was hated for being married to someone who was so much better than her.  Hell, his own people had started to turn against him.  Despite this, he convinced her otherwise, and she loved him for it.

   Their nights were spent together at The Lady’s Rest, curled up in each others arms after long days of training.  He continued to teach her to speak his native tongue, though the learning process itself was moving quite slowly.  She found it difficult to remember even the simplest of words, but never let that stop her from trying yet again.  She was stubborn, and in many cases this seemed to work towards her advantage.  Lately he had been teaching her much more; the human anatomy.  She was given books to read, and stayed up till late hours of the night studying.  The things she was learning were fascinating, to say the least. 

   She wanted to be more like him; stronger, faster.  Perhaps someday even a killer.  The road was difficult, and she knew the journey would be long, but this only gave her all the more reason to push herself.  Her studies became more intense, and she even began to memorize and practice new techniques on whatever victim she could find.  Controlling herself would be the most difficult of all these tasks, but she would do almost anything to keep her lover happy and make him proud.


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