◊ Ylenia: The Sickness ◊ [Complete]

[emptyanima]

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Name: Ylenia Eminescu
Meaning: Plant, Reliable
Age: 18 Yrs.
Race: Human
Widow/Witch
Origin: Vallaki, Barovia (Ravenloft Native)

“I am tired. My arm aches. My head boils. My feet are cold. But I am not aware of any weakness.” ~ Zane Grey

Ylenia's Theme - Blood Tears (Silent Hill)

[emptyanima]

One

When Ylenia was a little girl, she was a wild creature. She possessed childish strength and energy, a streak of colour in the city of grey, a bright light in her dark eyes. But her parents grew weary of her boisterousness and tiny temper, and took to the rod.

"You will be obedient, Ylenia, even if it kills us," her father would say as he struck her. And slowly, slowly, the light in her eyes faded. Something had intervened, something unknown, and from the moment the light vanished, Ylenia was the most obedient girl in the Core.

"Ylenia, be a bun young doamna and clean the house." Ylenia obeyed.

"Ylenia, do nu trust the fey, for they eat our children." Ylenia obeyed.

"Ylenia, you will marry Nicolae, as you say that you like him and he is bun for you. Inteleg?' Ylenia nodded.

Commanded to love him, she did, but there was one thing she could not give him. Offspring.

Nicolae, normally so patient, began to struggle. It was at this point that Ylenia's health truly began to wane. Since the wild days she had put behind her, Ylenia had never been in the fulness of health. She was given to weariness and aches and pains, and headaches that would last for days, and there were times when the fire could do nothing to warm her thin limbs.

As well as this, she struggled silently with the differences she noted - something moved within her, something scorned by the people of her domain. Vraja.

She kept it all hidden, bound behind invisibly gagged lips that she might live.

Nicolae reached breaking point, and struck his wife.

"Ylenia, you will give me children." Her eyes glimmered, and though her body rebelled, she obeyed.

There was first a son, then almost two years later, a daughter. But Ylenia had never looked more unhealthy. Her cheeks were gaunt, her limbs were thin, and her eyes were weary. Hers was a body not fit for childbearing, and yet, she had obeyed. She had no choice in the matter.

For this was her curse - obedience had become slavery, her body at the whim of every uttered command. Her will was never enough to quash it.

Finally, his own desires sated, Nicolae looked to his wife, waning away before him.

"Ylenia...." His voice was more tender, "You have been the most obedient wife any domn could wish for. Should we, your dear family, give you further commands, may we die before you drive yourself to ruin."

And with that, Nicolae Eminescu signed away his life.

[emptyanima]

Two

Sickness was rife in Vallaki, and Ylenia was suffering. She had begun to cough up blood, and fear beset her.

Nicolae had meant only to comfort his wife by his words.

"Come to bed, mi iubire." Ylenia's eyes glimmered, and she followed her husband. In the afterglow of their exertions, she slipped away into fitful sleep. Her husband doted on her, his rough labourer's hands moving back her dark hair from her skin as it beaded with cold sweat. He was used to her illnesses, and worked tirelessly for her comfort. Their children were healthy, and this was enough for him. Their future, at least, seemed secure. He moved his hand over hers, to hold it gently, and gasped.

She was cold as ice.

He rubbed her hand endlessly with his own, trying desperately to keep her comfortable and warm, but his struggle was in vain. Her breath misted as she lay in fitful sleep, and the candle was snuffed out. Nicolae fumbled through the dark for a match, panting. He struggled through the blackness. A sound echoed about his ears - a hiss. He came to the bed and knelt beside his wife, concerned. The candle reignited. Nicolae turned cold. He stared down at his wife in abject horror.

For out of her mouth, something long and black was rising, scaled and hissing, meeting Nicolae's fearful eyes with bright red orbs. It lunged.

Nicolae's screams became fainter and more strained as the serpent looped about his neck, tighter, tighter. With a final gurgle, his eyes bulging, Nicolae collapsed onto his pillow, reaching for his wife as he expired.

The serpent retreated, back down Ylenia's throat, and deep within her sick body. A cough escaped her lips as she slumbered, and blood trickled down her chin.

She awoke a widow, donned black, and mourned, not knowing that she had brought about his demise.

"Iadul plague... tigan." She whispered.

[emptyanima]

Three

Her son clung to Ylenia's skirts, and her daughter lay in her arms. They stared down at the grave in shared silence for minutes on end, until her son looked up at his mourning mother.

"Please, take us home." Her eyes glimmered, and she nodded, and she walked her children back through the cobbled streets, and settled them for bed. Her daughter, Rodika, slept at the foot of the bed in a cot. Her son, Alexandru, slept beside his mother, clinging to her and seeking her protection. And while she longed to give that protection, she too succumbed to sleep, and in her sleep, the monster that dwelt within her rose again.

Out of her mouth it slinked, hissed, and strangled her children in their sleep, before slipping back inside the doting mother.

Ylenia's tears flowed for weeks.

And still, her illness remained, but somehow, she pressed on. Perhaps someone, somewhere, was pleading for her survival, and she was simply obeying.

Her heart faintly pleaded for death.

[emptyanima]

Four

There had been changes in the life of Ylenia Eminescu. Famine ravaged the land, and the streets were almost empty. Faces that she knew wore the veil of death as they hung suspended from branches - weary of suffering, they had sought their own fate. She knew that was lucky.

She had gone to the Citadel, entreating them for food, and had been offered work. She would clean, cook, and be given a meal for her troubles, worth far more than any fang they could offer. For coins cannot be eaten, and do not provide sustenance.

What food they could buy had rocketed in price. She did feel a little guilty, knowing that each time she bought at a higher price, she would only be making it more hard for those with little.

But if there was one thing Ylenia was good at, it was surviving despite her circumstances. For the most part, she enjoyed the company of the garda, and they were good to her. Private Antonescu could be given to anger, but he was good at finding more creative ways of dealing with it.

When she went to empty the prisoners’ privy buckets, she did her best to avoid looking at them. However, when the time came to feed one inmate, a witch named Yasmin, it was her task to feed the woman, and in order to coax the food to her lips, she had to listen. She heard of a life that mirrored her own, filled with strife and the curse of vraja. But she could say nothing, show no shared bond in suffering, or she too would suffer. Besides, she thought, she had not tried to kill a person with her curse. No, she had been strong enough to keep it hidden within.

But there it festered, beyond her knowledge, like waste in the sun, where each moment it was untouched, it was more dangerous to her. The blood from her lips continued in her coughs, as did her spells of cold sweat and general weariness. She knew it was causing the garda some worry. Finally, she sought the help of someone she believed could help.

Ylenia knew a doctor.

[emptyanima]

Five

Doctor Thorn had opened Ylenia’s eyes, if only a little. His iubire, a fey woman, showed Ylenia a fey dragon - she fainted. She had never seen anything quite so ethereal, so fantastic, so painfully beautiful, that its presence had proved too much. So too, about the fey she had been instructed. She had worried that the doctor had been led astray by some fey-folk form of vraja, but he was confident that he had not.

As they stood beneath the boughs of the trees, Ylenia coughed, more blood pouring over lips. The doctor handed her a tonic to drink, and did so obediently. For a few moments, all seemed well, but presently, she bent over, unable to breathe, and clung to a nearby rock. She turned pale, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she slipped into unconsciousness. Her arms flailed, and she writhed, snake-like, on the forest floor.

Quinn, a foppish fellow who was a friend of Thorn and Nai, Thorn’s love, bent down to her, touched her arm, and a ripple of disconcerting energy passed through her skin. Her mouth was forced open.

“HISSSSSSSSS…”

More vraja was wrought upon her as they worked to keep her from hurting herself, her limbs far too close to the rock to be permitted to flail about. Another incantation came upon her, and she was made to be still. She knew nothing of her ordeal when she woke.

They had begun to realise that something was dwelling within Ylenia. What Thorn had initially believed to be a parasite, feeding from the sickly woman, seemed to be something far more sinister…

And soon, it would reveal itself.

[emptyanima]

Six

In the dark of the cave, Ylenia and Thorn were hidden. A gentle arcane light provided light by which to see. Under pressure, Ylenia had confessed to Thorn that she had been cursed by the touch of vraja, and he revealed the same. Hidden in the dark, a place no sane Barovian would look, she was free to release what she had kept hidden for so long. Arcane strands of shimmering colours, which blended together like diaphanous silks, weaved through the humid air from her fingertips.

But as she worked to hone the blood-based power she wielded, the creature to which she played host was disturbed. She was brought to her knees as it snaked near her skin, causing the fabric of her dress to move, and her skin to crease as it passed.

We must coax it out, Thorn had said, and took hands, speaking in a language that Ylenia did not know, but at the same time, recognised. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she lost her consciousness, but remained standing thanks to Thorn. Driven out by the doctor’s efforts, something long and black slid out of her mouth, about her shoulders, and stared at Thorn with bright red orbs.

The creature was Negru. And he was master. Or so he claimed, in his serpentine hisses, sliding helter-skelter fashion about her skirts, then crawled upon his near-endless belly about her feet. The doctor was stunned. No, the ‘familiar’, as he called it, was meant to obey the mage, and not the other way around. Negru was broken. Twisted.

His discourse with the creature soon turned to threats, and he slid in slimy fashion back down Ylenia’s throat. As Ylenia returned to herself, the doctor ask that she do her best to command it. However, Negru too gave his orders, and her body spasmed like a marionette held by two children, fighting over who will have command over its tangled strings.

For one such as she, whose will had been suppressed for so long, to suddenly be commanded to break free, and by another to stay bound, proved too much. She disgorged herself violently as her body, her mind was wracked.

For now, Negru was winning.

[emptyanima]

Seven

Ylenia shuddered as the man left her. Another outlander, just now stumbled into mists’ prison. She had answered his questions, all of them… but he had not liked the answer. She had been close to breaking a bottle against the wall, holding it out to defend herself… but thankfully, the man had calmed before that was necessary. While she held no great love for the outlanders, she could empathise with their feelings of displacement.

Stepping out into the morning, she saw a man strike a woman down. She had run for help, but found none, and upon her return, the woman was gone. The man spoke to her in hushed tones, and she let him be, perturbed. When she saw the garda man, she went to report the crime, but instead saw a horned woman be led away.

Passing back inside, she descended the stairs into the belly of the Rest… and fell upon them, her head striking the floor at the base. Nai and Thorn, having followed her inside, heard the crash, and rushed to its source.

Something slid along the floor not far away, hissing gently. Negru. Blood pooled about Ylenia’s mouth, and he began to speak in serpentine hisses, bewailing her weakness, and trying to defend his position of strength, of control. Ylenia struggled to summon the will to send him away, and before she could do so, he slid back down her throat, but not before sinking his fangs into Thorn’s hand. But her fight continued. She was helped to her feet as she summoned the will to control him as she should.

Her mouth was forced open, a long hissssss escaping. Something flared within her, and she slammed her mouth shut. This was it, she was going to take the reigns. “Obey m- ah!”

Negru’s fangs pressed upon her heart, gently at first, warningly, as Ylenia cried out in pain. She slammed into the bannister, lowering herself while leant against it. She barely managed to form the words, but she begged him to stop. As the familiar unhooked his fangs from her heart, and she was able to catch her breath, she looked up at Nai and Thorn.

They advised her to have faith in her strength, to trust in her sorceress’ will to guide her through. Ylenia’s mind whirred. She did not want to be a witch. In a meek voice, she begged them to leave.

-

Bringing herself into the sunlight once more, a man with hair like congealed blood in its shade approached her, offering food. She was reluctant, but at the suggestion that she should test it for poison, she took it, and ate. Her face fell as she found it was not so corrupted. Her heart was filled with sorrow, and her head with self-loathing, and her body hummed with hatred of the curse of her being, her sorcery. She was certain it has condemned her to a life of misery. She began to walk away from the man, head bent.

He followed, and noting his presence, her bade her turn. Her eyes glimmered, and she obeyed, as she always did.

This man knew. He knew how she had to obey. So in those moments, with hushed words and drops of her blood, she put a leash about her neck. A leash, the man had sworn, that would set her free.

[emptyanima]

Eight

In the following days, Ylenia made an unlikely friend, an outlander girl. In exchange for a few rations of food, she fashioned her a dress of blue and white, like the sky and clouds all at once. But where she found kindness in strangers, she had also found mockery, belittling her for her smallness, her speech.  When dawn came, and she left the safety of the indoors, she went to her work at the jail. She met there the Sergeant, Natasha Orlov, and was instructed by her to set new bedding down for a new inmate. She did as she was bid, later feeding the woman. Her name was Tarja, and her hands had been broken and twisted. Ylenia knew that she was looking at a witch, a woman like her, and that should she be discovered, she would one day find herself trapped behind the same bars she cleaned now.

She saw the medicine woman, Enya, again, the one who wore rams’ horns and walked with a stick, her leg mauled and crippled. Enya gave her more honey, and advice. Advice to loosen the coil within her, to use the talents she had, the blood that would otherwise condemn her to death possessed a power she believed she should control. At her healing touch, Negru hissed, pressing against her skin.

“Vraja is nu killing a woman. A woman is killing herself by denying vraja.”

-

When next she met Thorn, he gave her food, procured from the distant Dementlieu. She knew she would have to keep it hidden from her fellow peasants if she wanted to keep her life. It was then that Thorn spoke to her of the man she had met, with the hair like congealed blood. His name was Nerein, and he was a blood mage. Thorn knew of the leash that Nerein claimed would free her, and he worried.

For all his worries, and for hers, Ylenia could do nothing but obey Nerein, come when she was called and heed his commands. He fed her, asked her how she felt, advised her to tell him his woes. His intentions seemed good enough to her, but his methods… bothered her.

For a time afterwards, Thorn helped Ylenia with her spells, to grow more comfortable with their usage. He was pleased with her progress, but when evening drew close, she had to return to her work.

One of the garda spoke to her warningly of Thorn, and his connection to the elves. She called him mad, but Ylenia remained quiet.

She encountered Nerein outside when she finished her work. She followed, even though she was unsure, but the contract was strong. He fed her, and began to teach her letters. He treated her well.

“So why is it I fear him?” Ylenia thought.

[emptyanima]

Nine

She spoke with her friends, Nai and Thorn, that night in the Lady’s Rest. Occasionally they would speak the fey tongue, and Ylenia would listen to the melodious language without understanding. As they spoke, she felt herself burn up - her cheeks became hot and she perspired heavily, feeling a dizziness within herself. They took her downstairs, and she sank into the chair.

“Negru… is time to come out,” she said. She felt writhing within her, but also hesitation. The serpent was not used to being ordered about. She began to speak his name again, louder, but was cut off by his emerging from her mouth. She bent forward, giving a gagging cough, and he slid out and onto the floor, the boards now flecked with crimson.

She commanded him, told him that they would have words, upon her terms. Negru dragged himself up to his full height, his red orbs fixed upon Ylenia’s dark eyes. She asked him why he set such limits upon, and he claimed it was to keep her safe. To protect her.

Ylenia was reminded of the wild child she once was, as Negru told her he had assisted her parents in removing that streak from her, or at the very least, quashing it until it was no larger than a speck of dust. He told her that following the path of vraja would lead to the gallows, that he was the one she should trust to make judgements.

Words on one side, from Nai and Thorn, and Negru on the other, gave her reason for pause as her mind word. Finally, she leapt upon the snake. With the persuasion of her words, he finally called her ‘mistress’.

But he was not finished with her yet.

[emptyanima]

Ten

With a bag of letters slung over her shoulder, Ylenia arrived at the bridge into the Wachter lands. She watched as the guard on duty approached, clad in Wachter garb. He enquired after her business, and she spoke truthfully, as she must. She was delivering those letters to the fishing lodge in exchange for coin. He let her pass, and she went to her task.

Upon her return to the bridge, others were crossing, and she was made to wait. She was about to cross, when she was asked to state her occupation. She obeyed, for she had to, and knowing her to work for the Vallaki garda, she was detained. Led through the late afternoon to the Wachter estate, she trembled fearfully. She had heard stories of the province, knew the great price she would pay if her vraja seeped out, had heard of the cruelty of some of their men.

So she was surprised, when instead of being beaten and maimed, she was fed, kept warm, and spoken to in gentle tones by Gavril Valentin, the bridge guard. She answered his questions with honesty, as she must, and told him she had meant to use the coin earned to buy food for her superiors. This was a crime, she was told, given the tension between the regions, something she had not known. But her honesty was admired, her cooperation noted.

They told her of the Lance Corporal Zolokorov of Vallaki, and how brutally he had treated one of their estate in Ylenia’s position - she was a maid seeking her family in their time of need, and the monster robed in human flesh had maimed her. Ylenia had heard of him, and how weary Private Bogdan was of him. Ylenia wept, asking if they would use her for their revenge. The Corporal Svezotar seemed to desire this, his hand about a club. He drew closer… raised it… and turned, setting it back down upon the table.

They did not hurt her, for they did not wish to stoop to the Lance Corporal’s lows, and be painted in his colours. Instead, with a bundle of food, and an escort for safety to the bridge, she was freed when morning came.

Ylenia counted her blessings for the whole of that day, shedding tears of relief.

[emptyanima]

Eleven

Ylenia scrabbled out of the crypt, covered in dust and coughing. Death had leant down to brush her lips, but somehow, she evaded his kiss. Nerein was to blame. He had led her there, and she trembled fearfully. This man had said he would free her, but had nearly brought about her end. She sought healing and rest, and left his presence, bitter.

She did not understand him.

That night, she was answering the questions of a new prisoner in the mist, when Bogdan appeared behind her, and whispered a command.

“You will come with me now.” With a glimmer of her eyes, she rose and followed. Sat upon a chair in one of the Rest’s rooms, she was questioned by the Private concerning her time with the Wachter militia. She promised not to go to their lands again, and she would be given more fang for food by him. She smiled at him… but he did not smile back.

“I’ve heard things. From the prisoner.” Ylenia knew who he meant. Yasmin, the outlander witch.

“What things, Private?”

“From the prisoner. From a visitor of the prisoner. I will ask you something, and I want a straight answer. I promise you will not be punished whether the answer is yes or no… but you will be in big trouble if you lie…”

“I will nu lie… is swearing it, Private.”

There was a moment of silence preceding his question.

“Are you a witch?” His eyes bore into her, and she shivered. He had made her a promise, but knowing what she was, would he really be able to keep it? Would she keep her work, or would she starve for her blood? But these questions did not matter, ultimately. Ylenia could not lie.

She buried her head in her hands and wept, and between sobs, told him of her self-loathing, how she did not want it. Her wet hands glimmered red as she coughed blood into them. “Can you control it?”

“Da… is… I think so. I have nu lost it before, Private. Am… used to hiding it, many years.” There was a pause. Bogdan’s voice softened slightly.

“You know… I wasn’t always a garda. I protected the Barovian borders for over twenty years. Our patrol was called the ‘War Pigs’ . You know the kind of things you see in these borders?”

Ylenia shook her head slowly.

“Hazlani witches to the east. Fofarian hags to the south. People escaped from Bluetspur telling terrifying stories of creatures called ‘Illthids’ near Immol. Travelling merchants using the ‘Old Svalich’ from faraway lands like Dementlieu or Sourange.”

Bogdan held her chin softly with his right hand, and gently lifted it, Ylenia’s warm tears rolling over her hot cheeks and his hand.

“You will be fine. Your secret is safe with me. But I expect /absolute/ loyalty from you.” A smile tugged at Ylenia’s cracked lips.

“Da, da, of course! Oh, multumesc, Private, multumesc mult!” At last he returned her smile… But there was something unsettling behind it, something Ylenia’s glassy eyes and slightly blurred sight missed.

“The officers have approved your official place working for my jail. Welcome aboard.”

“Multumesc. I am grateful, and proud.”

Ylenia wore a large smile. But it would not last for long.

Absolute loyalty comes at a cost.

[emptyanima]

Twelve

Ylenia followed the Private out of the inn when morning came, and he began his checks while she waited for his commands. She smiled to Thorn, who was stood there, when Bogdan began to question him. As she had promised, Ylenia supported him, speaking of him as her doctor and a fine man.

Bogdan, however, called him a creep. He forbade the two of them from meeting, save for in the Citadel under supervision, if they wished her treatment to continue. Ylenia was frightened. Doing so would mean he would have to reveal his own vraja, which could endanger him greatly. But she needed his help.

“Am I not generous, Ylenia? Do I not care for you?” Bogdan spoke in a harsh voice, his eyes fixed on Thorn. Ylenia spoke in a soft voice;

“Da… most generous, Private. Most caring.” She followed Bogdan to her work, looking back to Thorn with a sad expression, and guilt heavy upon her heart.

As she cleaned the jail that day, she paused within the interrogation chamber and wept. She looked upon the iron maiden, the table, the furnace, and she knew only one thing kept her from the pain they would wreak on her.

Bogdan.

-

She risked the night to find him, and she did. She spoke to Thorn in hushed tones, of her woes and to give an explanation. He gave her words of comfort, and told her she could be much more than what she was currently permitted to be. Ylenia always treasured his words. There was a fire in them, a burning resolve, weaved into her native tongue. Her people were strong, and of all those in the Core, most ancient. They were strong survivors, thriving in adversity.

But she was sick and in her blood was a curse. Was she a true Barovian? Her conversation with Thorn led her to believe it. She was. She hugged him gently, returning to her work when morning came.

[emptyanima]

Thirteen

That night, Bogdan came to the Lady’s Rest, and she followed his commands, fetching him food and drink while others, Thorn included, looked on, and could note her obedience. She knew their next day would be busy, and filled with preparation, for the day after, Yasmin was to be hanged, and others beaten.

Arriving back at the Citadel, Bogdan spoke to her softly.

“Is there anything wrong? Your work… isn’t as good as usual.” Ylenia stared at her feet.

“Am sorry, Private… my mind is wandering, da.” His voice took on it’s usual authoritative tone.

“Well, get back to work, then. I want the jail spotless by the time I come back.”

It was. She continued to run more errands for him, working to hard to keep the thoughts that whirled through her head from paralysing her. She came with apologies when not all could be done, by no fault of her own, and Bogdan reassured her of this.

“Let’s talk a moment. I see your work has improved again… but I can also see something is on your mind.” Ylenia stared into her lap, her eyes filling with tears. She lowered her voice.

“I am looking at the jail, the interrogation chamber, and the… broken, twisted hands. I am know that all that is standing between me and that fate is you, Private. But… this does nu mean I do nu deserve it any less.”

“You are right. I am the only one standing between you and that fate. If you stay loyal to me, you have nothing to worry about. I take care of my own.” Feeling a little calmer, she regarded him in silence as another question sprang to mind.

“Private… when your wife asks you how you have spent your day, what do you tell her?”

“I am not married. But I do have a lover. And when she asks… I lie. She just wouldn’t understand.”

“Things unu is having to see to understand, she does nu see.”

“What about you? You have seen, does that allow you to understand? That my methods are the ones that are /necessary/ to keep this city safe? The people safe?”

“Da… are necessary, Private.”

“They take their safety and their lives for granted. They don’t understand that it is men like us that allow them to live in peace. Otherwise, we’d be overrun by outlander witches, caliban freaks and filthy rebels with their blackpowder.’

“If nu unu cleans the wound, it festers.” Ylenia replied, turning to one side to cough into her handkerchief.

“Exactly. Cleaning the wound is ugly and painful. But someone has to do it. Why do you ask, anyway?|

“Was curious, Private. Am nu sure what my Nicolae would have said about my work if he still lived. Hm… I suppose I would nu be working.”

“You feel shame in what you do here?”

“Nu when I am cooking or cleaning… but when I feed the witches, I am the greatest hypocrite, Private.”

“Why?”

“Because they are me, Private. And because they are condemned when I am nu. Because they tell me their tales and I am hiding my empathy behind my eyes. But nu well enough… unu must have seen it.”

“Witchery is not a crime, Ylenia. They tried to murder our garda brothers. That is why they are on death row. Never forget that.”

Her eyes glimmered with held tears and the lustre of obedience.

“I… I will nu, Private.” She looked up to the darkening sky.

“Go inside, if you wish.”

“Da, multumesc, Private. Shall I start on supper?”

[emptyanima]

Fourteen

They had company at supper - a woman called Millicent. Conversation was strained, and it seemed it was meant to be. Bogdan was intimidating her. She was a friend of the prisoner Yasmin, and she was shown the interrogation chamber, the cells, one of the prisoners… Bogdan sent a clear message. Millicent was to pull no stunt at the hanging.

The next night, she was berated - Bogdan seemed to live for apple pie, but yet again, they had run out. He slammed his fist into the table. He left the stew she had made him untouched, and she was told to take it to Yasmin. There were tears in her eyes as she set eyes on her - this woman had revealed her secret to Bogdan.

“Am here to feed you, doamna.” Yasmin quickly noted the tears in her eyes.

“Want to tell me something? You can tell me anything, I promise not to tell anyone.” Ylenia’s expression darkened.

“Your whispers are mult too loud, doamna. The Private, he knows, and is your fault.”

“Hm? What?”

“You know this… you were speaking of it with your friend, doamna Millicent…”

“Oh that… I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I didn’t have much to talk about… I’m sorry! It wasn’t my intention! Did he do anything to you?”

Ylenia’s voice was choked and weary.

“You are… sorry? I am being under the Private’s thumb for the rest of my days, or he will have me harmed. I am as you… only with nu shackles. Nu shackles you can see.” Yasmin frowned. “I am here to feed you. This is all.” Ylenia swallowed softly. “Inteleg?”

“I… I don’t know what to say. You were always so kind to me. It’s not fair! See, I cannot touch or like anything… Save the food for someone who deserves it. I will be dead at dawn anyway.”

“Yasmin… come closer to the bars.’” She watched the girl draw near as she lowered her voice.
 
“We are cursed, doamna. What we love, we are losing. Our blood is poisoned with vraja, but it can nu be bled like bile. I tell you this, Yasmin. I am already dead. I am holding to my last breath. I tell you this because I know, doamna. I am seeing me in you.”

“No! Don’t talk like that! There are some safe places for people like us, where you can live without fear. You need to get to Port-au-Lucine, look for work with the theatre’s troupe. They will help you.” Ylenia shook her head.

“Eat, va rog. Eat… these places are nu for me. If I leave I will be hunted down like a lup bitch and killed. But you, I am wanting you to eat, because I want you to be strong until viate leaves you. You are are stronger than me, Yasmin. Show it, va rog… show it.”

“You can be happy. You don’t need to end like this.”

~

Tears were shed. Songs were sung softly, echoing about the dank stone. She gave Yasmin her last meal, and turned to leave, knowing it would be the last time she would see her - she had no wish to attend the hanging. As she neared the door, she felt the familiar lurching within her, and groaned, powerless. Unable to stop it, Ylenia faced Bogdan at the door with a look of helplessness as her mouth was forced open and Negru revealed himself.

The man began to shout, and soon, another of the Privates appeared. There was much confusion - Ylenia was distraught. Finally, the snake hissed, and in his hisses, revealed to the trembling woman the truth of her family’s fate. As he slid back into his place of repose, Bogdan dragged her through the jail, out into the courtyard, and beyond the gates.

Ylenia sobbed bitterly into the stone as Bogdan turned away, the chill air causing her lips and fingertips to tremble. A moment of heavy silence was pierced by another sob. Just as Ylenia believed she had lost it all, and would be hunted until she died, Bogdan turned back, and brought her inside once more. He spoke of seeking help - Ylenia begged to see her doctor. Bogdan seemed less concerned with the method, and more with the results.

She had to find Thorn.

[emptyanima]

Fifteen

It did not take her long to find him, and in her fragile state, she soon told him everything she had learnt of the treacherous snake. How he had made her a widow, robbed her of motherhood, was the root of her suffering. It was then decided that Negru could not be redeemed. But Ylenia was afraid. She yearned to know life beyond the snake’s influence, but it was unknown, new and strange.

But in her uncertainty, Thorn remained certain, clear, decisive. He was strong and determined, and most of all, he was good. Ylenia watched him and her heart lurched. If she could have but a little of his strength, perhaps she would manage. She moved close to him, whispered her admiration, and tried to put the image of his fey lover out of mind as she moved to hold him.

He stopped her there, bemused, studying her tearful face. He would not tell Nai, would not hold it against Ylenia. She was a well of emotion, and he believed it had been nothing. But he had seen behind her eyes, seen the depth of longing she vainly tried to conceal.

It was decided that a ritual would be undertaken to sever the bond between sorceress and serpent. But Nai would have to be there, with a banishment scroll, and certain components would have to be found. She would be patient - freedom was close.

~

She watched with wide eyes as Thorn’s serpent swallowed Negru whole. He had been rendered mundane by the ritual, and his hissed words lost all meaning, becoming mere animal sounds. Her tormentor was gone, and a burden was lifted. Perhaps now she could begin to heal - no more would she cough up blood, or feel him writhing within her. She yearned now for her new companion, for she had wished for a raven, a symbol of good luck to the Barovian people, to be her new familiar when the time was right. To be able to see through its eyes, and even though its wings would not be her own, she would fly.

[emptyanima]

Sixteen

The snake was gone, but the nightmares still lingered, and she struggled to keep her eyes open as she cleaned the jail. But she kept her manners and diligence under their ever-watchful gaze, as she mopped and scrubbed, swept and tidied. She was happy however when the time came for her to retreat to the mess, to slowly prepare a warm stew for the hard-working men of the Citadel. The sound of simmering became the background norm, the homely scents and cosy warmth leaving her in a hazy, comfortable state, barely registering conversation and the brash, manly laughter that went up from the tables.

Her weariness had made her forgetful however, and her peace was soon shattered by the realisation that she had forgotten Bogdan’s apple pie. His anger was clear, and he took off once he’d slammed his fist upon the table. The haze dispersed, replaced with worry, and the nightmares began to press once more upon her. She noticed now all that she feared. Costin distrusted her, it was clear in his face. The clatter of steel striking wood from the training halls told her that Bogdan was dealing with his rage. How easy would it be for her to be put down if her vraja slipped beyond her control if for a moment? Her head spun, and she left her own stew half-finished, weeping into a handkerchief.

Thankfully, there was gentleness nearby. Another of the garda, once a lowly farm-boy, spoke to comfort her. She had always liked Toma - he was a good, kind soul, who loved his city, but was slow to anger. Ylenia wanted to let everything out, speak the truth of her torment, tell him everything that ailed her, but she could not. She was lucky that Bogdan had not dismissed her for her witchery - but would Toma understand?

She was often surrounded by many people, yet she felt alone. She missed warmth, and many things she could never reclaim; her little Rodika’s hand clutched around her fingers, Alexandru’s inquisitive voice. She missed love. It was a love commanded of her, but it had been sincere. Her Nicolae’s rough hands had struck her, but they could also be gentle. And when the Barovian winter had wracked her waning body, he had been there to protect her from its sharpest bites. She clung to Toma’s arm as she wept, and as her weeping ceased, she still was reluctant to let go.

[emptyanima]

Seventeen

Scrabbling over the rocks, and concealed by an arcane veil, Ylenia scouted the Invidian camp. She scarcely dared to breathe, knowing the spell would not silence her, as she counted their numbers. Satisfied with her findings, she returned to Bogdan, the veil shattering as they departed. She was happy to be of use, to be able to wield her curse for good. It seemed Bogdan had seen its uses as well… and change was on the horizon for the Eminescu girl.

~

When he had called her to his office, Ylenia had been certain that she was going to be cast out. She did not know why, but attributed it to her poor luck or some bad judgement. But something larger lay in store. Officially, she had indeed been fired, citing the financial strain on the jail if she continued in its employ, but in fact, her work was now off the record. She was to watch, and learn, and one day, perhaps her curse could be used for an even greater good. It would take her further from home than she’d dared imagine.

Toma was at the gate of Fort Farm when she said her goodbyes, and with his encouragements sealed with a gentle embrace, she set off towards Barovia village, to the Blood o’ the Vine, a sealed letter in hand.

~

She sank to the floor of the musty cave as the last demon fell, sighing a sob. Those creatures would haunt her sleep, she knew it… and yet the others were brave. She stared down at her weak arms and remembered her wish to protect Vallaki. Had she been strong, perhaps she would have taken up the sword. Had she been hardier, perhaps the bow would have been a good fit. She too could have stood in the ranks of those who defended Vallaki. But her body had denied her, as Negru had denied her. Could vraja ever be used to defend the place she loved? Perhaps another wish that would be denied. There would have to be more. More fear. More terror. More pain before she could unearth more of what lay in her blood.

Millicent Blackburn frightened her. But Ylenia was her servant - she made Bogdan that promise, and to leave her service would mean betraying Vallaki itself. But her words… the talk of payment in souls and the sacrifices she had made for power. That iadul creature that had driven her mistress to tears. Her constant assertion, and yet continuing questions, of whether or not she was a monster. Ylenia almost faltered in her promises.

Yet there had been some goodness in those days. She had returned to Vallaki for a time, where she had met with Toma, and shared a meal with him in the Broken Bell. She was glad to see he remained constant. Even if the skies were green and the land were blue, Ylenia was certain that Toma would remain gentle and kind. When she spoke her fears, he gave assurance. Where she doubted, he placed certainty. And even better, she felt she could do the same for him, even if only in part.

It had come at an opportune time - she learnt soon after her arrival that Thorn and Nai were wed, and after giving him her congratulations, she left Thorn quickly, that he might not see her cry. She had to put that infatuation aside, for her own good as well as theirs.

It was not long before the time came for Ylenia and Millicent to prepare to leave. She had to speak with Bogdan, and she confessed her fears. He understood them, but reminded her of the good she could do if she would but heed Millicent’s teaching. For a time, however, it was agreed she would merely serve, until a time came when she could improve her vraja, a time when the guilt would weigh lighter on her shoulders.

Saying her farewells to Toma was hardest. Where she had struggled to let go his arm before, they both seemed reluctant to pass from the other’s company. Ylenia promised over and over that she would send letters, that she would dictate to Millie as she could not write herself. He encouraged her, as he always did, and found the good that she might have missed in her melancholy state. But as the time to leave drew nearer, Ylenia grew bolder, and saying her goodbyes, she planted a kiss on Toma’s cheek. He however, was braver.

He broke away from the peck he had placed on her lips, and they shared a moment of comfortable quiet. She turned finally, and looking on him for the last time, wished that he would see many ravens, those good omens, in her absence.

~

The journey had been one of tension, fear and excitement, as they warred within her. Vallaki was behind. Port-a-Lucine was ahead. The gown she wore was thinner, more suited to the kinder climate they would face. She gushed her fears, concerned that her simplicity would cause the haughty Dementlieuse to mock her. But Millicent comforted her, telling her she was a sweet girl, and that she would be loved for it.

Soon enough, the Vistana caravan came to a stop, and the curtains were thrown back. Descending the wooden steps onto the grass, Ylenia was overwhelmed. There was beauty in this place, and even the air felt kinder. Her dark eyes did not long dwell in one place. But as well as beauty, there were shadows, and in them dwelt thugs. Under the protection of her blood-curse, the two slipped by unnoticed, soon finding safety.

Before the Eminescu girl lay many opportunities. Perhaps here she could learn letters, Balok and Mordentish, unless her simple upbringing denied her that chance. Perhaps she might learn the dances, or refine her sewing, or take up another art. And as the Baie de Pernault was reflected in her eyes, they watered, her cheeks dampened by her undeniable awe.

[emptyanima]

Eighteen

After a time spent in Dementlieu, her mistress received discomforting news. An attempt had been made on Bogdan's life. They returned together, Millicent's worry clear in her expression. There had not been time for letters - Millicent had been busy, and could not put aside time to have Ylenia dictate to her. He was ill when they returned, sickened by some poison. An elf had attacked him.

But an elf had also been attacked, alongside her. As Ylenia hurried into the Ladies' Rest one night, a raven followed. She did her best to remove the bird, struggling with it. It scratched her hands with its talons, and drew blood from her cheek with its beak. It was then that the elf had appeared, and together they had brought it outside. But it seemed the elf had angered the bird, and before anyone could act, the bird held the she-elf's eyeball in its beak. The sight of it, the ensuing scream... they would haunt Ylenia's dreaming for a long time to come.

~

Millcent treated her well, thankfully. And Toma, as always, was kind. But as she kissed him, embracing him with bandaged hands, her cheek sutured, she was filled with guilt. She cared for him more than she had ever expected. And she was weary of keeping secrets from him. She led him into one of the rooms, shaking fearfully. Almost as much as she feared punishment for her vraja, she feared she would lose him for the sake of honesty.

"Toma, there is more wrong with me than my stitched cheek and bandaged hands. Please, do nu hate me." Toma watched with concern - tearfully, Ylenia incanted, and veiled herself from natural sight. Her sobs continued, like that of a phantom. Toma backed against the door. As she continued to speak, her own self-loathing became apparent. And as she dispelled the veil, she reached for his hands, and knelt before him, giving apology upon apology.

Toma told her to rise, and she did so - he held her close, silent... fear and concern filling his expression. His words, however, comforted her.

"It was brave of you to tell me this, Ylenia. Multumesc for that..." When morning came, he left for his duties. Ylenia's heart ached, not knowing if he would return to her. Wondering if that gentle kiss would be their last.

[emptyanima]

Nineteen

As always, Ylenia endeavoured to look after her mistress. Bogdan was a stubborn fellow, who would not withstand the confines of a plush room for long. In his absence from the Citadel, Costin worked hard, and one morning as Ylenia passed through the city, he invited her to travel to the Plum Bridge, where they meant to speak with one of their garda, who had defected to the Wachters.

She made a fire by which they could warm themselves as they waited, watching intently. Another of the garda, Dimitri, also arrived. Ylenia kept her distance from the exchange, but Dimitri became gradually more heated. An elf sat, watching them from the bridge, and she eyed him warily. Suddenly, Dimitri began to attack. From the shadows, reinforcements leapt. And as Ylenia ran through the mess in an attempt to save Dimitri from his anger, the elf rolled an orb into the bridges' center... and for a long moment she was without sight. When it was restored to her... Dimitri lay dead before her. She stumbled weakly back, and was soon caught and protected by Costin. It was only once they were clear of the bridge that she registered what had taken place, and was filled with sorrow.

~

That evening, as they returned from their loss, Toma saw her, and gave her passage into the city. She walked with him to the Broken Bell, where she spoke to him of the day's turbulent events. As she trembled, he took her bandaged hands. She met his gaze with a glimmer of hope.

"Have you... thought on what I told you yesterday?" Toma nodded softly.

"I have... and while I cannot pretend to understand your vraja... you are still you, Ylenia." She beamed, a weight lifted from her chest. Surely I am the luckiest doamna in the Core, that my Barovian domn will accept me as I am, she thought.

As soon as he had planted a gentle kiss on her cheek, the door went, and Toma's gaze shifted, resting just beyond her. Turning back, Bogdan was there - desiring to speak with her.

Going with him, Ylenia gave him her account of what had come to pass, and when day came, he took her to the Blue Water to meet with her mistress. Then the shouting began.

Bogdan desired it, for Vallaki's protection. Millicent urged it, for Ylenia's own sake. And so it was decided. Ylenia would not merely serve. It was time for her to delve deeper into the blessing and curse of her blood.

She parted from Toma, promising that this time she would indeed write. This was a promise she kept.

[emptyanima]

Twenty

The challenges were abundant, and she was often surrounded by danger, and twice had to enact risky escapes. But with these expeditions, under the watchful eyes of the talented Millicent, Ylenia grew, and Ylenia learnt. They trudged the sands and dusty tombs of Har'Akir, wandered the woods and caves of Hazlan, and met with huge scorpions, shambling skeletons, imortiji dressed in black, and huge, snake-like beings, perpetually aflame.

Ylenia was more fearful than she cared to admit, but she had much to steel her. So one night, when she was with her mistress in calm Edrigan, with her help, she penned her first discourse;

My dearest Toma,

I am very much enjoying my time away. People have been kind, and I am learning much. My mistress is good to me, and offers me great guidance. I will have many tales for you when I return, Toma. Much of what I have seen is strange and new, and sometimes I am... afraid.

But then I remember your kind words, and I manage, no matter where we are. Sweating on the hot sands, or wandering through the rain, my thoughts of you keep me steady.

I miss you greatly, Toma, even though it has not been many days, busy though they have been. I hope that you are well, and safe, and happy.

I miss your warm hands and gentle voice, and the smile that your eyes hold. My heart will bear a dull ache until we meet again. Goodbye, but not for long.

Your Ylenia

[emptyanima]

Twenty One

Serving Millcent Blackburn was hard work. Her nights were plagued with nightmares, her fear of loneliness was all-consuming. And so it was that Ylenia, several years younger, was like a mother to the woman, brushing her hair, whispering words of wisdom and comfort, and remaining by her side.

But as Ylenia grew stronger, Millicent's own worries and fears overwhelmed her, and they returned once more to Vallaki to assuage them. Ylenia passed to Toma treasures and gifts, to protect both him and his fellow men. True to the adage, absence had made their hearts fonder. From Ylenia's lips slipped the words 'mi iubire', words which Toma too felt to be true. They shared a long look.
They shared the night. They shared a bed.

~

Ylenia and her mistress walked the woods near Barovia village. The air was quiet and still, only broken by the howl of a wolf soon put down. There was no fear.

But then came a blur of black, a rough voice, and then pain. When Ylenia awoke, it was on the marbled floor of the Sanctuary of Blessed Succour. Her mistress was nowhere to be seen. Ylenia fretted, and Ylenia wept. Her ears were filled with suggestions and promises for her to keep. But one promise was impossible for her. Against all recommendation, she fled to her home. As she made the journey, she passed several blood-soaked figures on the road, two faces she knew. She paid them no mind, her fears assaulting her mind. The blur of black. The rough voice. That pain.

Steeling herself, she made her way home, the blaring of the Citadel's warhorns long dead. She had arrived in the calm after tragedy. But thanks to her words with Toma, and the valuable contributions of a kind halfling, the truth was pieced together. It seemed those blood-covered people bore a great deal of significance after all.

But her heart was still heavy with fear for her mistress. Thankfully, that burden was soon lifted.

For stepping into the morning sun, she saw a woman dressed in black. A woman who called her name.

Millcent.

[emptyanima]

Twenty Two

How quickly Ylenia's life was wont to change; stability was made and removed so quickly, it seemed foolish to call it stability at all. Ylenia's trust in friends and mentors waned and shattered. Bogdan was a traitor. Her home was not safe. Two of those who had brought such fear and distrust to her people were those she knew, and when she saw them again, in the camp that merges all paths, she did not hide her displeasure. She shouted, not caring who listened, or what they would do, bemoaning the outlanders that had brought this terror, that did not have to endure its consequences so far off. Ylenia knew how the outlanders mocked. How the Barovians were ignorant and backwater, and did not have their countless tongues and gods and love of vraja. Still, she reminded them, those native to that dreary, fearful place were people too. How they think and feel, laugh and cry, bleed and die as any other. Perhaps, if only for a moment, those about would consider their actions.

In a fragile state, she met with Renee, the kind halfling who had given report to the garda to help them find the Citadel's attackers. Although communication between the two was difficult, with Renee unable to speak and Ylenia still learning to read, she found some comfort in confiding in her. The little woman beckoned Ylenia to walk with her, and when they were alone, used magic on the Barovian, magic she had not seen before. Renee slipped inside Ylenia's mind and spoke more freely, though no lips moved - the halfling's head voice became audible to her.

The words she spoke broke her heart, and tears came quickly over her cheeks. The woman she had served, almost mothered secretly, had committed crimes beyond forgiving. The blood of little ones covered Millicent's hands. She resolved right there that she would not return to her.

Renee, accompanied by an elf named Arianwen, offered to help her instead. They watched her as Ylenia summoned her blood-born talents. But as she mimicked words she had heard from Millicent, and found the power to carry them out was in her, they frowned. A brutish dog, formed of shadow, stood before her. Arianwen was not harsh with her words, but honest. To call on the shadows would corrupt, not only the area around, but the Barovian girl's heart. She made another promise, never to call on that magic again.

Who knows if it could have saved her from her later fate?

[emptyanima]

Twenty Three

The desire to loose the powers that swirled in her blood led Ylenia into the bowels of Vallaki, putrid and dark though they were - here she would be free from scorn, and able to watch the lights and energies that left her bandaged hands. Presently, she walked below the cobbled streets of the warehouse district, dark eyes scanning about for an unsuspecting rat.

Laughter filled her ears.

Ylenia glanced about, puzzled, moving with softer steps.

"So... clean..."

She trembled, and called into the darkness. "Who are you?"

A stench, peculiar even in the sewer for its sheer foulness, began to waft closer, closer. Her breath quickened, and she began to seek a way out. Closer and closer the putrescence came - flies buzzed incessantly behind her, and she swatted her hands in vain.
But before she had found the way, the flies coalesced into a thick, dark mass. A man-like creature emerged, like one dead, grey... but so very perverse and twisted. Ylenia screamed, and the chase began.

Through the complex she hurried, occasionally turning to throw an incantation at the pursuing monster, each time cursing inwardly as he brushed it off. Each moment she had believed herself to be safe, he leapt from the shadows and the chase continued. The Eminescu girl grew gradually more weary, and no escape had been found. She did not know what it was that quashed her temptation to call on that shadow creature. Perhaps it was merely the desire to not be seen as an oathbreaker. Her sight began to blur, her breaths hard and laboured.

The inevitable soon occurred, and the creature's hands gripped her. She sobbed, fighting weakly and vainly against his grasp. A long, barbed, eldritch tongue, blade-like, drove into Ylenia's shoulder, drinking of her vitality. Her complexion paled further, and she went limp with a soft cry, helpless as the creature fed. Once done, he tossed her aside, leaving her to lie on the cold, dank stone for a few moments. He watched. Considered. Tugged back her hood and studied her pale, pained expression.

Presently, the creature lifted Ylenia up, cradling her like an infant. Freeing an arm, her cut through his own chest, black blood flowing from the wound. Moving the Eminescu girl like a porcelain doll, pale and just as lacking in autonomy, he pressed her mouth to the oozing blackness. It filled her mouth, until reflexively, the girl swallowed.

Images flashed through her mind, soothing. Her mother smiled. Her father draped a cloak about her shoulders, and warmed her by the fire. Gradually, the images lightened, a warmth and brightness filling them. These images faded, replaced with a handsome, somewhat aged man, with a kind face and fine clothes. Trust welled within Ylenia, with the desire too to see this man. To meet him.

~

Her eyes opened, her sight blurred for several moments. As it adjusted, she realised that was a new place. A strange place. She was warm, comfortable and well-rested. Sitting up, a dart of pain shot through her shoulder, and she winced softly. Why did it hurt? How had she come to be here? And where was that man, her saviour?

Reaching for her comb and mirror, she pondered this. But as fine teeth passed through her hair, she caught a glimpse of her face. She had never seen so much colour in her cheeks, or such healthiness in her complexion. She smiled, and her eyes were bright.

Had her time of sickness truly passed?

[emptyanima]

Twenty Four

Her smile did not last long. In her meeting with Millicent, the first for several days but the last time such would happen, the witch had spewed poison. Told Ylenia how similar the two of them were, and how they were both responsible for the deaths of children.

"There is a difference between having a monster inside, and being a monster inside, doamna?"

"Are you certain? That snake was part of you, Ylenia. A manifestation of some part of you. What does that make you?"

Ylenia would never be able to give Millicent an answer.

~

Only a single islet of stability still remained - Toma. But he was a busy man, rightly so, with duties and work, the defence of Vallaki. For the first time in a long time, Ylenia believed herself free to make her own choices. She walked quickly back into servitude.

A doctor of the mind, named Emanuel, spoke with her one slow night, concerning how vraja and madness in Barovians seemed intimately linked. Ylenia said nothing, fearful but wearing a thin smile. He seemed pleasant enough, even if that idea caused her a heavy burden of thought. The next night, he introduced his daughter, Sasha. They were about to sit down to an evening meal, when a wolf's howl and the blaring of the garda hall could be heard. Against her better judgement, Ylenia ran into the night. A huge, snarling werewolf loomed over the garda. From a distance, Ylenia summoned her strongest magics, in hopes to fell the beast alone. And she did. Rushing through the outskirts, she came upon a woman on the temple steps, bleeding. She dressed the wounds quickly, and once they were tied off, she ran back, suddenly fearing the doctor's suspicions.

The shaking of her hands and murmuring of her words cast enough doubt on her protestations, but as the subject shifted, she was relieved. That relief did not last long, however. For as the next evening moved over the land, a raven hovered over the road. The darkness revealed it to be the neuri who had attacked her before, and in a mixture of rage and fear, she hurled more vraja at the creature. Rage filled her as they faded into nothing, and a darkness fell over the road.

She woke in the upper floor of the Ladies Rest. Honesty with the head doctor followed. An agreement was made - he would treat her mind and seek to uncover the memories she had lost, and she would clean and cook, her breadwinning skills.

When she next saw Toma, she gifted him a fine blade she had saved for, and together they went to test it. It had been a far more risky venture than they had anticipated, and Costin chided them. If Ylenia brought Toma to danger, and he suffered for it, she was unsure she would ever be able to forgive herself. But as always, that single stability had remained. Toma was loving and kind and supportive. More, she was certain, than she deserved.