Legends of Belariath

Nobles and Other Significant Characters

Christine Daae

From proud to felled and felled to here,
This woman now doth spend her years.
They say that pride does come before the fall,
And of this adage this woman does now speak testament to us all.
Made up to be above all others, then made to nothing in a moments time,
She was undone to their ends, she whose only crime was not to ask so many questions
She has now become what she did make,
A human thing it is, this cycle, never ending in its hate
To those rise and those who fall, look now on her and see it all
She will sit there, sublime in her hidden grace,
She will sit there, melancholy looks dancing on her face
Ever longing for what could have been,
Yet accepting that which has now come,
She will sit ever more, alone in what has been done
Masters come to claim her body, but her soul they cannot take
Angel blessed and demon cursed, the slave that they cannot break
Listen well and hear her tale, for it holds in her life, her glory
Learn well its lesson lest you too fall, and this is where we start her story.

She was beautiful, of this there is no question, that smile she did have, it seemed to radiate from her form and send all of the mens hears aflutter, though she was called by most the untouchable woman. She was her work, and she took no humility in that, she was the best and she knew it, and she hardly would let you ever forget it. A Slave Mistress, a woman without give, she was the one who would break the new flesh in. She was not cruel, she was not sadistic, but she did not hold back the lash, not when it was needed.

She could break a mind and shape a soul, and she did it without compassion, they would come in to her home, and within a month they would be ready. She only let them touch her once, a kiss pressed to her lips, as they did leave her home, they would get there one moment with there mistress. Even at eighteen she had learned her craft well, so much so that other masters looked to her for advice. She did not make them into mindless drones, but she pushed them to the point that they lost all will of their own.

It seems we can live the same day, a thousand times over, but it takes but a moment, to end all that we know, and redefine our very nature. Fire has this nasty habit, of killing those it touches, and when her town was set ablaze, it ripped through her home with abandon. She was forced out into the streets, the nights sky alive with embers, and she fled with her kin, seeking to find shelter. They could not take to wing, the fires forced them down, the smoke made them blind, and in that lack of air she found herself on the ground. She slipped away into that state, the darkness over came her, but five minutes had then passed from the terrified awakening, and it seemed to her at that moment, a most anti-climactic ending.

She woke up to a hard shot to the jaw; the pain slammed into her body as she snapped her head up, ready to rip the face of the fool who dare struck her. She could not move, she soon discovered, she was tied to post, stripped of all her garments, nude and dirty before these men, but there was only one that stood before her.

Yer name dont matter no more, ya belong ta us, and ifen ya thinkin of runnin, ever, we will simply slit yer bitch throat.

And with that, those harsh and biting words, she was made their slave, and to their whims she would serve. They started, as most would think they did, they raped her for days it seemed the five of them. They took there turns, they used her hard, and when she though she would pass out, she would feel there magics slither into her, recovering her just enough. She fought with them for the first few hours, then she simply let her mind turn off, they took their fill of her body, until they could no more.

The days began to have a routine, she would be awakened with a raping, and then a rather savage beating, if she did not pleasure them, as they wanted her too do. She would then tend to the slavers hut, to clean the tools they used on her, sometimes she would have to wipe up her own blood, from the random painful interludes. She came to expect the pain, even as the ripped the feathers from her wings, she could cry out and tear up, but it stopped mattering to her, if she lived or died. For months the slaver then tided her wings to her body, the pain still felt to this day, every time she unlocks them, as they made her look like they.

Within that time that spread of months she simply did what she was told, she fought them, for a while, but quickly she learned not to be so bold. At first she had hissed, she had kicked and fought back, but they were nowhere near as good as she had been, they just wanted her to put up the act. She let go her mind, she turned it off, she hid within herself, she did as she was told, and that kept the beatings less. She would obey without vigor, she would do as she was told with out question, and she was what they wanted from her, a broken woman in all her mindless perfection. Still she held on, within her own mind, but she could feel that hope slipping, like the grains of sand that was her life, were passing through her fingers.

One night she did lay awake, to try and recall her mother, she blinked a time, and she could not recall, more then some vague and hazy shadow. She wanted to cry, but she held back, afraid she might draw to herself her masters ire. She was slowly now forgetting, all that she had been, like the fading of a dream, the passing of some fantastic story, she had her on a merchants lips, she was loosing the person, Christine, and simply becoming, This one.

All hope seemed last, she had simply given up that night, but fate was not done with her yet. She lay awake, and tried her best to simply forget. She knew her life would be much more simple, if she simply become what they wanted, maybe even if she tried harder, she could someday be allowed to fly again. She then heard it, a terrible crash, the sound of an explosion, and again the flames that had at one time been used by these barbarians, were now turned against them. Rock trolls, the kind of trolls that had the least fear of flame, swept into that town, and of their land they sought to reclaim. The tribe she was with had been waging war, and now it seemed as though they were going to loose it horribly.

Her master did charge from his hut, that massive axe well in hand, he joined his brethren in a desperate last stand. She saw then her beloved sky, and only those leather straps to hold her. She had no memory now left of what she was, not fully, but she did remember that she should fly, whenever she was in danger. She snapped up the dagger from his bed and cut those ties from her, she winces in pain and pleasure as her wings she did now open. She then ran, to get away, the tears running down her face. She looked back and thought for a time, that she belonged at her place. She wanted to be her masters slave.

The fire though, that reminded her of her self, and she simply ran, to scared and confused to do anything but what she knew, she took to the air, and for the first time in so many months, she finally flew. She beat her wings for many days, afraid someone might find her, she forced herself until she came, to this town she is now a slave in. She fled, only to become flesh once again, though at least in time, she has remembered who she was. This is where our tale does end, and from that she can tell you, her past she knows is no longer hers, but she enjoys the thoughts of it at times, the memory of family. She sits, sometimes, alone, looking at the sky, wondering to herself, what would have happened if I had chosen not to fly?

Her life had been through many changes since the time she had arrived in Nanthalion. A slave when she first arrived, collared to the one she loved, only to find that he was not what she needed. A minotaur next, one who tried his hand at owning her, and while she respected him more then the first that tried to own her, that one did not work out either. A slave she was not, and this was something she had deep down within known the entire time.

So it was with slaves that she began to make a life, though instead of being one herself she began to own them. Jobs came and went, from working at the arena, the Naked Bird, the Sorcerous Sanctuary to working for the General Store a trainer for the horses sold there.

Many things had happened as well, from finding herself with different mates, to her eventual fall from the IG, and becoming a traitor to the Empire. Though this is where he life began to take a turn for the better, finding things she thought were what she wanted, things that were not suited to her at all.

For the General Store she began to freelance work for, breeding horses to keep their supply in demand, training them as well until they were ready to be sold. This lead her in search of other breeds, perhaps a land not yet discovered that would hold a stock worthy of her next venture within the Empire.

A new land found, near the border of Valencia, before one were to go through the portal to get there, it was in this land that she discovered that the breed she sought would be found. A powerful warhorse worthy to be ridden by the Imperial Guard, and so she would stake a claim upon this land for the Emperor, a place she could move her herd to join with what animals were there.

She would approach the Emperor then, her plan in mind and hoping it was one that would be accepted.

The Plan

A trip away from the lands, a bit of trading involved with many different shops, each person upon the trip having their own desire for different items, from new spices and animals to various other items. It was then after acquiring two of her own, of the new Valencian breed that the idea came along. She knew there had been problems in the past with her and the Empire but she had come a long way since then. Upon coming back to Nanthalion and her castle she would settle down at her desk and draw out a piece of parchment. Upon it she began to write down her idea, a letter to the Emperor letting him know of her new plan. She already bred and trained various breeds for the General Store, easy enough to continue with her new land. She wanted to do something more though, and upon the parchment this idea would go. A proposal was written, using the new breed brought from Valencia she would breed an army of war horses for the Imperial Guard. With a warlord and her own training around horses she would make sure they were trained to the fullest, making sure they could stand any war, would not panic around blood and magic being thrown around. Each would be trained to the individual guard as well if it was desired, trained to only respond to their commands, and to their voice. Once she was finished she would pick up a stick of wax, melting it upon the outside of the folded parchment and place her seal within, a rose surrounded by flames. That done a fairy would be called and then sent off to the Emperor, it was then she would await a reply and hopefully a new career within the empire.

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