Semisi Joleim

[3Piece]

As she sat there curled up close to the fireplace with her notebook beside her and her fresh untouched journal opened to the first blank page she couldn’t help but smile remembering his words. “I promise…” he had said to her then those words she had longed to hear spoken to her. For so long she had been by his side watching as he openly adored the others, lavished them with attention and love. She was well above making snide remarks or acting immature over his choices. At the very least she just wanted him happy with someone who would be there for him, tend his wounds, and take the time to understand why he is who he is.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the image of a cat with wings walking across the floor. “Not real, not real, not real…” She repeats as she clamps her eyes shut tightly, hoping when she opens them it’s not there and wondering how many of these patrons are going to vanish as well. A tremble sneaks up her back as images of the nightmare lands dance in her head. Once again the ugly winged creature advances on her, once again she begs for her sister to be spared, once again the creature laughs and tells her to kneel only to… “NO!” she cries out nearly spilling the bottle of whiskey beside her.

She knows the ones that are real are staring at her and wondering what in the hells is the matter with this woman. She takes a few deep cleansing breaths before opening her eyes and looking around the once familiar room. “Real” she tells herself, “The Nymph is real, Ben is real and Ben never lies.” As everyone goes back to their drinks and stories she gathers the charcoal sticks from her pack and places them beside her notebook. A few pages are flipped before she concentrates on the blank journal in her lap. With a child-like grip she makes her first entry…

This is real. Ben is real.

She stares at her first written sentences, longing to write everything in her mind but knowing that too will come in time. As blurry images flit across her field of vision she drops the charcoal stick and covers her eyes, “No, no, no, no, no! Not real!” As this too passes she lets out a weary sigh and wonders when her mind will mend, or if this is all just a really bad dream. Part of her no longer wishes to wake up and find herself back on the docks with the storyteller, while part of her tires from the blended delusional state. “I just want to know what parts of what I see and remember are real, what are dreams, and what just isn’t there.”
She remembers an angry woman standing under the mounted boar head scowling at everyone and never standing down from a challenge, “Was that real or just a dream I once dreamed because I wanted that to be real?”  Mounting frustration blending with her delusional state send her into a frightened panic, quickly she snatches up the charcoal sticks, bottle and books then makes a dash for the kitchen. With everything shoved back into her pack she lets out a tired sigh and closes the curtains.
 

[3Piece]

A faint smile trickles across her face as she sits curled up in front of the fireplace, notebook in her lap and charcoal stick in her hand. Ever so diligently she practices the letters drawn by Tatiana, forming a few into words based on the letter written by her sister. She places the notebook beside her as she plays through the memories still fresh in her mind. They ran into her quite literally as she stood by the crossroads deciding which direction to hunt down those plants she knew how to brew with. They were running from something or someone, or perhaps both, and out of breath from lugging a body. Semisi was still plagued by the delusional effects of that visit to the nightmare lands, her reply when told to focus the same as each request, “Trying!”. Michael gave no explanation for why he carried the body, leaving them to see to his own needs. Tati had one focus for the moment, washing the grime from her body. That left only one person to deal with Semisi’s questions and confusion. When it seemed she couldn’t focus, and even dared mention betrayal, he shocked her system with a kiss before leaving her with a promise to see Tati to the Village.

Betrayal was something Semisi was familiar with, had planned more than once, and had no qualms about doing again. The chaos that resulted was both enjoyable and pleasing to her mother’s patron and perhaps on some level driven by a desire to right the wrongs. Always keeping others at a distance prevented any sort of emotional fallout when they betrayed her or were taken away in some manner or another. That was until she spilled everything in a moment all too familiar and terrorizing, and a bond was formed that would never be broken. Slowly she learned to let Tatiana in and another friendship was formed with the strength of a sisterly bond.

Together the two ventured on, Tati talking to her invisible friend and Semisi trying to keep from completely losing touch with reality. Semisi frowns and touches her neck at the memory of the meeting on the bridge over the falls. The intention was to just drop the body over the edge and get to the village but instead Semisi had her first taste of being a vrolock’s meal. The feeling of teetering so close to death, drained of so much lifeblood left her feeling sickly for days, yet onward she pushed, exhausted and delusional.

Sleep comes no matter how hard she tries to remain awake, right in front of the house they know is hers. The maze again and then Tati fighting Tati, running until flames make everything feel rather real. She collects herself and tries to focus until she is certain she hears her sister. Forgetting the realness of her injuries she races up the stairs and sure enough finds her sister. Even now as she thinks back to that memory she’s a little amazed that they found that glimmering shard and woke with clear minds to finish the task and set to rest a rather unhappy spirit. It felt good inside to have persevered and done a good dead with her sister. This wouldn’t be something easily forgotten.  Semisi decided then and there she would not betray her any more than she could betray Ben.

She examines the ring left by the spirit, working out the sounds of the letters until she manages to read the inscription… and smiles. Tonight she would not fear the dreams that might come, and tomorrow she would have a bit more hope in her heart.

[3Piece]

Semisi paces the floor with her usual scowl, giving any who meet her gaze a cold glare as if daring them to speak to her. Balling her hands into fists and growling out insults in her native tongue only serve to increase the tense atmosphere in the normally jovial Nymph. Finally she calms enough to give what she knows to Ben as nothing is ever hidden from him. There is too much trust and history between them for any lies or omissions. The information displeases him but his anger thankfully not directed to Semisi this time. They are interrupted by the guarda demanding she come in for questions which only serves to further infuriate Ben. Her sister is already there for questions. A cold fear grips her heart as she complies and is led to the Citadel where she is shackled and led first to confirm she knows Tatiana then to a post covered in layers of blood, thankfully none of it very fresh.

She takes a deep breath trying to keep her wits about her even as her eyes take in the various instruments of torture, some of them familiar to her. She knows this is not the time or place for threats or insults but a few slip out as her will wavers to remain strong. Thankfully they fall on deaf ears as all they want to hear seems to be anything that would incriminate Tatiana of multiple murders. As the rusty filthy blade pierces the flesh beneath her eyes she loses concentration as images of long past events rush vividly though her mind. Bits of what she knows slips out as her instinctive desire to preserve herself first over anyone else rears its ugly head.

Finally it’s over; she’s given enough to be released and given a moment to say her goodbyes to her sister. Semisi gathers her resolve, knowing these could be the last words her sister hears from her if all else fails. She wants her sister to remain strong, to be brave no matter what. She thinks to the inscription and the meaning between them, “Never lose your dream for hope!” she yells to her sister, hopeful herself she read it correctly. “Never forget” is her reply.

Once free of the wall she runs for the Nymph, knowing Ben would be worried and eager to feel safe and spill all she had learned in the hopes someone, some contact, anyone can help save her sister. The stress weighs heavily on her as she tells them everything, trying to remain strong so he might worry less of her and focus on what must be done. Her mind swims with memories both ancient and fresh, her wounds stinging as he cleans them. She knows what it means to him to have someone cause her harm like this. His is a god of vengeance and retribution and soon someone will have to pay the price.

Once alone with her only other trusted companion she allows herself a moment to lose her composure, an exchange of promises and a renewed worry. If it’s all smiled upon by her mother’s patron she could lose them both, and please the lady of loss in the process. With a heavy heart she heads to the room for some much needed rest. For hours she sits at the desk and stares out the window. As her eyes grow heavy she opens her journal and placing charcoal to paper she writes one line before retiring in an exhausted heap on the bed.

Never lose your dream for hope.

[3Piece]

Drama.
Semisi sits curled up in front of the fireplace and writes a single word, careful to form each letter exactly as Tatiana showed her so many nights ago. "I'll never quite understand the desire some have to meddle in affairs they have no business in or intimate knowledge of." She doodles a few lazy circles in the margin of the page as she ponders over the recent events. The injuries under her eyes have healed nicely with the salve she made herself and the scratches left by the ghoul are nearly faded away. "The audacity of that creature to come into MY place and harm MY sister. Hmpf. Certainly showed him a thing or two." She can't help but smile at the memory of the encounter and the frightful look as his meal was denied him. Another memory slips into her mind and causes her to laugh out loud, drawing many odd looks from the various patrons of the Nymph. The memory of the obnoxious gruff sounding man who came to the wrong place seeking a whore only to be frightened off with empty warnings of curses as Semisi used her scrolls and minimal drawing of energy from the land along with well worded threats.

Once the patrons returned to their own interests Semisi rose and made her rounds through the Nymph, checking doors and the back room for anything out of place. Satisfied all was in order she returns to the fireplace and collects her journal once again. She looks thoughtfully into the flames as she recalls the odd man who upset the guarda enjoying a night away from his job. While the guarda was certainly ruffled by something the odd man said he was short on much information. Semisi, always taking note of individuals who enter the Nymph, watched the odd man carefully and observed a rather unique tattoo. Having never seen anything like it before her curiosity was peaked. While she felt no concern for those who had touched her or her sister, the guarda seemed a likable sort and thus she felt compelled to share what she had seen and offer him a measure of protection while a patron of the Nymph.

A distant look enters her eyes as she makes what at first seems to be simple scribbles that slowly take the form of a crudely drawn curved blade crossed with a wider straight one; a few dotted stars around them both. Looking over the drawing she sighs, "It's not quite what I saw but it'll do." With a yawn of boredom she closes her journal and gathers her things to head out for a mind clearing walk through the southern woods.

[3Piece]

Party.

The word is penned with slow strokes and a pained expression. Once the ink is covered she rises, leaving the notebook open on the desk and retreats to blow out every candle in the room. A groan as she crawls under the covers and places her head against the pillow. "I drank entirely too much. It's my own fault I suffer but the last thing I want is sympathy." She shuts her eyes to the light entering under the doorway, a brief recollection of being curled up on the kitchen floor. She swears to the wall, adding a vow to never indulge so deeply again.

Many hours later, perhaps days even, she leaves the inn placing an extra tip with the innkeeper minus her usual scowl. She goes through the preparations for an extended trip, brewing up the last of what she'd picked, ensuring she had plenty of salve and bandages and supplies. He finds her just before she leaves and expresses his longings to watch them die slowly. She can't help but feel something akin to a flame being relit inside. Too long she's been away from such things.

As she repacks her bags she comes across a silky red ribbon, and with a rare smile she uses it to tie up her hair into it's usual ponytail. She heaves the pack over her shoulder, adjusts a few straps then heads out into the night with an icy cold glare as though daring the night itself to speak to her.

[3Piece]

The day started like any other as Semisi sat in front of a blazing fire only this time it was a rather large campfire instead of a cozy fireplace. She practiced her letters as she had done since the first day in her notebook, taking notice of the ease with which she was able to form them without having to flip back and compare the little arrows showing the flow of direction. Her mind drifted as it was prone to do when she wasn't focused or engaged in an activity that required full attention. Memories played through in broken bits of a life left behind. Semisi slammed the notebook shut and glowered at the nearest log as though it were the cause of the fiery anger that flared up. She stood abruptly, shoving the notebook into her pack.  A quick glance around assured her little notice was given to the sudden noise and motion. She lowered her head and made her way to the tent where she once again pulled out her notebook and journal. She stared at the flickering flames, letting the day replay in her mind...

They had spoken once before and both his mannerisms and speech had garnered her interest. There he stood once more, with a pleasant greeting she couldn't help but take as a complement. "Warrior woman" played over in her mind as they talked. She slipped a few times, being a bit too free with her inner thoughts. She reassured herself that it wouldn't matter, that he wouldn't learn too much and betray her like all the others. It was comforting to see Ben approach and a great relief to spend the time honing her skills with her favored sword. She'd let those routines slip away. A risk in this life and one she couldn't afford to take.

Semisi stayed by the stone man with every intention of seeing him safely returned to flesh without giving it much thought at the time. Later they would return to the same place with a larger group. The emotions returned with a burning ferocity. Hate. Anger. Jealousy. Disappointment. Anguish. She closed her eyes and imagined each of them gutted slowly by her own hand and couldn't help but smile for just that moment. She had no problem feeling hate but all that had to be put aside to focus her attention where it mattered most.

She watched his skill, the way he held his weapon, the way he moved his feet, the subtle shift of his shoulders as he decided where to strike, the delicate dance that would decide his fate. She listened to everything he had to say while remaining focused on the task at hand as always. Few words were spoken during such times by Semisi. The fighting put her in a rather good state of being, to the point she even joked. Reflecting back on that moment brings a short laugh from her. "I thought I'd angered him. That stare was convincing."  Semsi gives her head a soft shake then takes her charcoal stick from its pouch and carefully makes a few notes in her journal. Each word takes time to form properly as she takes great pride in her writing.

Look within. Find a way to make the hot anger burn cold. Not gone, just very cold.

She lets out a satisfied exhale as she puts away the notebook and journal, "He's teaching me and I didn't have to even ask.  I have everything to gain and nothing left to lose."