It is the uncomfortable feeling of inhaling water that wakes Issuwa, finding herself beneath the disturbed waves of previously still waters. Blinking frantically to focus her vision all while fighting against thrashing currents, she begins to realise that she is partially upside down and facing the ocean floor. Stuck in this position Issuwa looks to the world beneath her, while the water is deep, with the aid of rays of the high noon sun she can easily see the muddy bottom and the glittering structure the lays upon it.
Whatever the object beneath her is does not take away from the fact it resembles an ornately crafted tomb. The sarcophagus shape shimmers as the light from above bends with the changing movements of the swirling aqua surrounding her. The settings of moonstone, mother of pearl and onyx glittering back at her with a sinister shine and the slightly open lid revealing the black abyss within freezing her with terror. Something within her consciousness is terrified of the pitch blackness, of not being able to see the moonlight ever again. The sight of waltzing fish folded into metal chokes Issuwa with the essence of doom and a deep sense of abandonment. A child like voice thrashes in her mind demanding not to be left alone, to not be hidden away like a coward.
Her body, torn between the need for air and the inability to look away from the coffin bellow, battles with the water's currents while her mind tries to piece itself back together. Even as her vision begins to blur the stare of the embedded gems forces her to hold her gaze. Distantly Issuwa can hear heavy splashing, muted shouts, and rumbling growls but not even they are able break the spell of nightmare that has befallen her. The mesmeric horror momentarily ties her in place, it seems to be entrapping her soul with just a simple glance upon its shining visage.
The world means nothing in this seemingly unending moment for it holds no place in Issuwa's mind. The childish voice springs free to swirl with currents thrashing her body about, this singular voice surrounds her with the intensity of a thousand. It demands freedom, to be allowed to fight, that it also deserves to take revenge and it does not to be alone. The urgent requests of the voice press painfully against Issuwa's scrambling mind the longer the mental entrapment continues to grip her. Despite the pain, just as unbearable as the terror of the object below her, a small tread of her consciousness breaks free to prayer that something will save her.
The voice that is trying to meld with her consciousness abruptly stops as pain shoots through her torso finally shattering the hold the dread inducing object had on her spirit. The world appears to slant sideways as she breaks the water's surface backwards, blood flying from her throat and sound of cracking ringing in her ears. Her mind barely registers the press of cold jade scales before she is flung into the air, her body becoming akin to a skipping stone once it hits the water's surface.
Ricocheting off the water several times, Issuwa wrangles with her own mind in an attempt to break through the blinding pain. Mid-air she sees a figure on a small wooden boat yell out to her, allowing for her to gain her bearings for a moment. This meagre sense clarity quickly vanishes as her body strikes directly into a lily pad. A trap of greenery forms around her, the pressure on her injuries causing her vision to white out.
In the blinding white she lays, her already amnesiac mind shattering around her. There is no feelings of pain, confusion, or fear within her being, only eternal nothingness. She has become nothing more than a lifeless doll, a broken doll who can no longer even dance for her master's entertainment.
The burning brightness surrounding her soul slowly dims as shadows begin to encroach on the unending whiteness. In her unfeeling state Issuwa's spirit looks on unconcerned as a monochromatic forest scape forms through the encroaching darkness. As the details of the forest become ever clearer the maiden's soul slowly floats down to the floor. There she stays laying on her side, unmoving while the space around her stabilises.
The tropical forest is silent but not still, there is no sound but movement is abundant. Silhouettes of fauna flitter about their business, plants sway in a soft breeze and light dances across the ground. Two dark beings with no features walk through the broken female, stopping to analyse a flower on a tree all but a few metres ahead of her.
Issuwa's soul gets a rush of feeling back as she watches the way the taller being gently pats the smaller. She tries to scream at the little one, not sure if she should be telling them to run away from the taller or get the other being to stay, but no sound comes from her spirit. As she struggles to get up another shade, one that is clearly panicking, runs through her. The largest of the first two places large hands on the newcomer's shoulders as if to calm them.
Unable to make out what words are coming from their distorted faces, Issuwa manages to get her footing so she can walk over as her soul bleeds feelings of sorrow and abandonment. She reaches out to touch them to let them know she there, but her hands go right through them. Panic begins to take hold as she tries her hardest to scream, desperate to save the smallest from something dreadful.
Large shadow hands drop from the third being's shoulders in shock along with the smallest shade lifting its hands as if to cover a gasp. Everything becomes still for a small eternity before the larger of the three appears to order the smaller two before rushing off. Issuwa tries again to grab the fleeing shade only for it to slip through her fingers once more, so she runs after it.
The forest seems to be growing thinner the further she follows the being, whiteness beginning to take over again until the shade shatters before her very soul. The being leaves nothing in its wake and the once thick forest is now completely gone. In the pure emptiness that surrounds her Issuwa's spirit collapses to her knees as pain consumes every crevasse of her. Why did this blinding light have to be encasing her, she wishes a soft blanket of moonlight would settle over her instead.
Silent screams affect nothing, soundless prayers do not provide comfort, and both only make everything feel as if it is tenfold worse. Finally, she smashes her arms against the whiteness beneath in rage. The molten fury contained within her finally spills over as dark vine like tendrils spill out from beneath her, as if they are trying to prevent her from harming herself. Restraining her almost manic soul the vines smother her into darkness where all she can do try to battle the swallowing blackness that will never let her see the precious moonlight again.
As the crazed soul finally loses all the fight within her a sound abruptly pierces through void, an unknown garbled voice calling out. Issuwa is unable to make out what the voice is saying but she does not care, she is now begrudgingly content to say curled up within the darkness as much as it terrifies her. The darkness might be cold and lonely with no offer of comfort however it is not unkind, not like cruel bright light that is so close to rays of the midday sun.
She startles herself back to sensibility with these thoughts, why does she have such visceral feelings towards natural phenomena. The very prospect of bathing in sunlight ensnares her with an incomprehensible pain along with a rage like no other. She knows not the how or why but sunlight being the harbinger of evil is something that engraves itself into her very soul, etched in so deeply that removing it would be impossible. Being stuck in darkness is something entirely different, for despite the deep terror it instils within her it also leaves her with bazar sense of safety.
Having unconsciously forced herself out of her deranged state, Issuwa notices that she is no longer laying in a black void but rather everything is tinted coppery red with darker river like shapes forming abstract but intricate patterns in front of her. The voice is no longer a garbled mess, instead it is clearly that of a young man pleading for her to awaken. An uncomfortable pressure forms from the strange weights along her back, traveling throughout her torso and along her extremities that slowly grows into pain.
With each breath sending further pain shooting through her chest Issuwa finally opens her corporeal eyes, only to find glaring sunlight greeting her. Every movement of the structure she is on causes needling aches throughout her entire body, only making it all the more difficult to stay conscious. She searches for something to focus on other than the pain and finds it past the throbbing in her right arm in the cool wetness that licks at her fingers. She concentrates on the pleasant feeling, eventually noticing that there is a similar sensation to be felt from tips of the weights on her back which is strange as why can she feel something that should not be there.
Slowing her breathing the young lady attempts to get those heavy weights to move and as they twitch, she can only let out a gasp for they hurt so much. The sensation of something ripping through them only gets worse the more she tries move them.
"Don't do that!" comes a loud slightly panicked voice, "Do you never want to be able to fly again you stupid noble!"
Issuwa shifts her eyes to look forward rather than up to find a young man before her. His eyes of dark amber scanning over her broken body, his hands hovering above her as if unsure if he should touch. They are scarred and full of callouses notices Issuwa as he draws them back, turning as he mutters to himself something about fools who think they are invincible. Her gaze moves up from his hands to where two pure white wings no larger than a throw pillow peek out from behind his shoulders.
"Wings?" a struggled breath leaves Issuwa startling the young male, who turns back to look directly into her face, "Why do you have wings?"
The man huffs while rolling his eyes, "I know you nobles love to think we don't exist but many of us from the Below do have wings… pompous wankers the lot of you."
"Nobles? What… What are you talking about?" Issuwa forces out while studying the male's too thin face, particularly the jagged scar that paints it. The scar shines against his tan skin with a pearlescent sheen in the heavy rays of light that fall upon the two individuals, highlighting its twisted shape. She wonders how painful the wound must have been to form such a scar, starting from the centre of his left cheek the torn curve travels up to where his ear should be but instead leads only to more marred skin.
"Miss you are clearly of noble blood, your wings make that very clear," he states as he tilts his head, his scar standing out even more clearly, before he continues speaking, "Although I've never seen anyone with wings quite like yours. You parents must consider you their shining sun."
Tilting his head the other way, hiding his disfigurement under the shadow of his dark chocolate hair, he waits for the young lady's reply. He inspects her, taking in the brokenness of her body knowing this young woman for all intents and purposes should be dead however here she is broken but speaking to him. His eyes drift to her four grandiose wings where they are hanging twisted and limp from the sides of his boat, he has never seen anything like them before. The abyssal darkness of them was unnerving, the black plumage absorbs all light creating an illusion that makes the limbs appear as portals to a moonless night sky when combined with the sparkling gold and silver flecks that run through them. The young male distantly ponders how the injured female would even be able to stand with such a weight on her back.
Issuwa, who is getting better at forcing her pain to the back of her mind, looks at him as if some form insanity has overtaken him as she replies, "I do not have wings… and what is a noble?"
The man's thoughts screech to a holt as he realises that this strange young woman is serious, she is genuinely confused over what he has been saying. He opens his mouth to speak only to quickly close it, deciding to scan his eyes over the female once more. The first thing he takes note of is her clothes, if they could even be called that, that scarcely cover her body. The rotten threads that once wove into something more modest fraying apart leaving very little to the imagination. The ruins of a cloak that now pool in a heap under those heavy midnight wings in a similar state although it still holds itself together. Whatever dyes once coloured the disintegrating garment have lost all their hues leaving behind a horrid grey. No one in the Bellow let alone a noble, even one pretending to be a commoner, would dress in such hideous rags.
His eyes turn to her hair that, while severely matted, still held a distinct braid style to it. Not many braid their hair and certainly no self-respecting noble would, for braids are almost exclusively worn by those of the more risqué service careers. However, It did not resemble those types of elaborate styles designed to show off instead the tangled mess looks like it was once a singular braid that merely meant to hold hair off her face. There are also no ornaments decorating the mass so he could say with confidence that she most definitely was not a that type of service worker.
He thinks back to how he ended up with her in his care, he knows for a fact that no noble would have been able to what she did. This is leaving him with more questions, she has to be of the Bellow community for anyone in the middle and upper classes never evolved to have a last chance response to being at deaths door. That is impossible though for he knows the Bellow like the back of his hand and there is no one who remotely has any resemblance to this girl.
Perhaps she was from one of the outer cities or towns but then why would she be out here for the closest settlement, that was not the capital, is a four-day boat ride or three-day flight for someone with wings as powerful as hers. Then again, she could have come out here to die, it was uncommon but not unheard of that those sick of life sometimes purposefully wonder into dangerous territory hoping to be killed. For some reason though that didn't seem to make sense either for if she truly wished to die then her body would not have reacted the way it did.
As he is beginning to catalogue this new information Issuwa is glaring as this man appears to do nothing but stare at her body blindly, "I am sorry but again I do not know what you are talking about?"
The harsh but pained tone breaks the male's zoned out state, he startles immediately at the unnerving sight before him. Finding himself staring into dark blue eyes that he would swear on his life were grey but a moment ago, he feels a sense of danger as he becomes lost within them, "No I'm sorry I shouldn't have…"
His sentence is suddenly cut short as something hits the bottom of boat causing it to sway violently. Looking around frantically, ignoring the sharp hisses of pain coming from his companion, the male spots a wake that leads to a pale pink frill like fin sticking out of the water. Its turning to face them again so, knowing exactly what this predator is going to try, the man does the one thing he can think of.
He manages to slip past Issuwa to kneel behind her and quickly blurts out, "This is going to hurt."
Issuwa, about to question him, lets out a deafening scream of pain as her fractured body folds forward. Her arms now lay over her torso and she can see that there is a bone sticking out of her left one, however this is not even the worse of it. The strange weights on her back have constant shocks of agony shooting through them, Issuwa realising that they are not just something stuck to her creating a phantom sense of pain. Tears blur her sight as she gets the first look at these extra limbs, that she has just figured out belong to her, with stock overtaking her immediately.
There in her field of vision are black feathers, feathers that reflect almost no light except for the shinning flecks within them. She pays not attention to the small blast going off and the hissing sound surrounding the boat only concentrating on the beautiful plumage before her. A small gasp of awe leaves Issuwa as she feels the feathers brushing against her skin in this crunched up position and oh how soft they are, like the delicate petals of a freshly blooming flower.
She ignores the pain consuming her body and the apologies that spill from her savoir while one side of her lips quirk upwards as she softly murmurs, "I have wings."