📚 › The Yellow Princess

From the Books of Alienor (Duane) — 

The legend of Atiara, the Yellow Princess during the troubled times of the Warring Kingdoms.

So the Story goes...

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  • in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #401

    The Yellow Princess Chapter Book — Part I

    The singing birds awoke her. She was feeling numb for a few days and was wondering what was happening to her. Princess Atiara, often called the Yellow Princess was 20, a very important age among her people. She was the heir of Landgurdy, the richest of the 7 remaining Warring Kingdoms. Her father, the Yellow King Namiarad Tschãõ, had organised a birthday party for her. Inviting all the warring clans of Landgurdy and some of their allies among the other Warring Kingdoms.

    Though she couldn’t calm that waruki, or bad feeling… something was going to happen… and it was not something pleasant.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #536

    The room was grey.

    Since she had been raped by the guards Atiara was mute, and closed in herself. It had been a very freaking experience, and quite new to her.
    She was virgin then and quite unaware of those aspects.

    Fortunately, it had been only once, at her arrival in this prison…
    The guards had threatened her not to tell anything, but she was already gone so to speak. All her will gone, all her hope gone, all her joy gone.

    It’s been 3 weeks ago. She’d barely ate and drink. And she’d been left alone. The guards were not speaking to her. They didn’t even try after those events.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #803

    The room was chilly and silent when she awoke. The transition between her dream and the reality was like a cold shower on her aching body. It was still the middle of the night, even the guards were noiseless. She managed to bring her body close to the wall with the only window far above her head. Her thin clothes weren’t sufficient to keep the warmth into her flesh and she couldn’t restrain a shiver. How painful this could be after such a vivid dream.

    She winced when one of her right thigh muscles decided to contract on its own and wouldn’t let go of the tensions. She tried to relax and breathe as deeply as she could, which made her cough repeatedly and that was even more painful. Still she could think. She was with that girl and her dragon again, Lola she was. Though that time the dragon was sleeping rather deeply. She could not blend her mind with her. The other was well shielded and she couldn’t communicate. Even her mind was a prison that she couldn’t communicate with her dream selfs.

    There was that woman again, the Warrior Goddess, but they didn’t fight with her pupil as they usually did. She was more like a channel to another realm. Atiara could barely feel the presence of the others. They were too far in a way that she couldn’t comprehend.

    Oh! Now she was remembering… hope.

    After what had seemed hours of an exhausting fight with ghosts, the vividness of that dream had faded and she had found herself speaking with a young lad. What was his name? He was showing her different symbols, telling her that she had asked him in a dream once and that his friend Ewrick had now finished them. Yann had then showed her this set of symbols.

    She had felt a different kind of power along with the smile of a blue man. Had she asked for this? She couldn’t remember. She had said to Yann that they were beautiful though she hadn’t the slightest idea of what they were. He had laughed and just said that she’ll know soon enough. And there was that guy behind Yann, with his mischievous look and his nine-tailed fox

    All she could hope was that she would remember the set. It seemed important. Well important enough that she had forgotten her painful body consciousness for a few moments. The coldness of the stone under her bare feet was bringing her back to her gray reality. The storm was now closer but still not ready to release its power. She was waiting for it.

    in Reply To: Circle of Eights, Stories #898

    She was feeling blank. It was as if she had no memories of what had happened before. At least she had still the notion that she was a she… wasn’t she? It wasn’t really clear, as she had mixed up feelings. There weren’t any physical sensation in the place she was. Indeed, she was having difficulties finding herself. She began to wonder what was this feeling of her she was aware of. To what was it connected? And thus, she realized she was too focused on the question itself to get any answer.
    The letting go released a dam of sensations and informations. She was overwhelmed by all that she was and all that seemed to be thrust upon her senses. But the resistance was what could create pain, she knew that from another time where she was living the same thing. Resisting the communication was like wanting to resist a herd of fleeing raghlors.
    She was feeling a presence in all this mess, something familiar :-?
    Was that herself looking at herself looking at herself looking at herself looking…
    Her memory of what she was trying to do came as lightning. The sudden realization of her numerous tentatives at this exercise made her cry… would she fail again?
    She had to find these other aspects of her, put them into a common direction… but there were so many of hers! which ones should she call to follow her? Which ones would follow her, if any? She felt sudden despair coming from everywhen. Despairs that she was aware did not belong to her, but they were powerful, almost annihilating her will. Images of massacres of people she knew, of people that her other selves knew, massacre that she had perpetrated herself or that she was perpetrating… any sensation of time could fit.

    :yahoo_at_wits_end: :yahoo_doh: :yahoo_crying: :yahoo_cow: :yahoo_whew: :yahoo_skull:

    Despair was imprisoning her and she knew she already had failed because of that. It was shadowing her motivation, giving her that hollow sense of herself, shielding her from…


    Asiir, is that you? The energy was familiar and the name was a translation in her mind. It was an anchor point in all these mess of hers.
    Asiir, help me!

    The feeling was faint, so far away. But as she was focusing more on it, she noticed her different selves were intrigued and gathering around it. And there they were together. A feeling of ecstasy filled her up… and out of her body herself was huge. The presence was gaining in intensity and it was as if it was her who was allowing Asiir’s energy to be expressed toward herself.

    HAHAHAHAHA a thunderous laugh.
    Startled for a moment she almost lost contact with Asiir. But their bond was stronger this time. She was filled with joy and self-assurance.

    At last, you are beginning to understand, Lola. We can go on and take the next step now.

    She was truly riding her dragon, :face-grin: , it was wondrous.

    Well, technically you are lying on the floor of the marshes of doooom, but…

    All of a sudden, everything was gone, she was back to her body, Asiir looking at her and nudging her left arm with her snout.
    WOW, what a crippled body! How many times did she tried? Would he kill her with that, bloody bastard… a feeling of anger was infuriating her, and filling her body up, heating it up. How could he possibly be so inhuman?

    May I recall you I’m a dead guy? and furthermore, my focus wasn’t human… I just appear human to your eyes because you want me to appear like that. You have no representation of how my species could look like, but I may show you…
    … soon.

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