no need to match muse or even read the dream part //
"Hello Ailia."
"Hello Ciara, dear."
Two women stood at length, facing each other with grim expressions. One adorned in a flowing white gown while the other stood in black armor. Around them was a pristine alabaster throne room. Pillars of milky white stone reached from the hard ground to the high ceilings. On both the left and right wall were immense stained windows that allowed black, grey, and white shadows to be cast. The windows depicted the sun and moon in monotone colors. Furniture, from tables and chairs to a throne, were sparse within the massive room. Above them were three crystal chandeliers dripping with cobwebs, yet the only light came from the windows. The furniture was covered with tattered grey cloth which a thick layer of dust had settled on. Underneath the covers revealed worn, rotting wood and cloth, as if the furniture was ancient. The throne, the arguable centerpiece, was once beautiful, covered in jewels and gold, but now looked unusable. With the large ceiling and few furniture the room amplified every sound, yet was silent.
Ailia, or Lady Light, stood near the throne. She was beautiful and regal. Her hair was stark white, her skin tan and smooth. Wrapping around her thin, fragile frame was a toga that clung tight. The sheer garment held around her right shoulder and revealed her left breast, while the skirt portion pooled all around her like a waterfall. Shoeless and without accessories she did not look fit for battle. Still, she held a bow while on her back was a quiver which held five arrows. Her thin arms didn't look as if they could hold back the bowstring, yet she seemed to do so without difficulty. Back perfectly straight, hips squared, and legs standing far apart. Her peach-colored lips curled into a smile as she spoke, "you look a bit scared Ciara. I've never seen it before, but I must say it suits you well." Despite her mocking words her voice was soft and feminine, relying on the acoustics to carry her words rather than speak louder.
On the other side of the room stood Ciara, who stood firmly in front of two grand doors. "Bold words for a woman about to die," she said, her powerful raspy voice spoken from the chest. Unlike her counterpart she was heavily muscled and large, standing at 7'. She had dark skin and textured brown hair that was pulled back into a thick braid. Protecting her body was metallic black armor along with a leather tunic underneath, in her hand was a massive claymore. While Ailia looked too dainty for her weapon Ciara fit her sword wonderfully. She stood in a similar fashion to Ailia as well except both hands wielded the sword which was held at her chest. "Your little arrows couldn't kill a cat!"
"Yet you stay where you are."
"What do you mean to say?"
"Even you aren't that stupid!"
Ciara ran forward with the speed of the wind, her lips peeled back as she yelled in a war cry. Armor clattering and shoes smacking against the ground she moved far swifter than her size suggested. She crossed the large room in record time, leaping forward so that she could swing her sword where her enemies stomach was. Ailia moved faster though and like a fluttering petal she evaded the attack. Her gown followed with a flutter as her long limbs readied midair to land on her feet. Through the jump her hand let go of the bowstring, allowing an arrow to fly from her grasp and bounce of Ciara's metal armor. Ailia landed delicately from her jump before running to a farther distance while her hands prepared another arrow.
Turning on her heel Ciara pursued though she found her enemy moved faster. Flexing her jaw she again jumped forward, extending her right arm to reach Ailia. While the blow was weaker the length was beneficial as the tip of the blade ran across the woman in white's chest. Just underneath her clavicle Ailia felt a quick slice from one shoulder to the other. Blood dripped from the wound immediately straight onto her dress and chest. The adrenaline left her numb, but a new anger surfaced. "Bitch!" Ailia screamed through gnashing teeth, face flushed as she began to lose her cool.
A throaty laugh escaped Ciara, the towering warrior persisting in her attack as she jumped forward, becoming arrogant in her steps. Ailia growled in her throat as she leapt toward Ciara, kicking off from her toes straight over the sword. Her slim hand smacked against Ciara's shoulder as Ailia cleared her enemies entire body with hidden strength. Taking advantage of the second of confusion she ran from Ciara, and though her arm movement hurt, she twirled around and let another arrow go. The arrow, aimed for Ciara's head, narrowly missed and instead grazed her cheek leaving a nasty wound.
Ailia stood bold even as Ciara regained her composure and turned, arming another arrow and allowing it to fly. The arrow landed between Ciara's chest plate and bicep armor, digging into leather and then being snapped by the metal armor so it could not be removed. Ciara screamed, but continued forward with the same speed. She dropped her sword to one hand so that her wounded arm was able to move less, helping with the pain.
It was now a chase with Ailia being the mouse and Ciara the cat. Ailia shakily drew her fourth arrow and twisted her waist knowing that it likely would not land. It flew at random, cracking against the ground. Both now breathed heavily, though Ciara seemed to be in better shape. Ailia again readied her last arrow. This was her last chance at winning, at finally winning! She whipped around and ran toward Ciara, which caught the other off guard, giving Ailia the second she needed to get behind Ciara. This was not without cost as Ciara brought her blade across the other's abdomen. Ailia turned even as her organs spilled from her body and let out the arrow which dug into Ciara's neck. Both collapsed.
Ailia fell on to her stomach, nose breaking on impact against the stone floor. She held her neck with both hands as blood leaked from the wound. Sputtering for air she could not make a noise, only gasp and gasp and gasp. Aailia's armor scraped against the ground as her feet pushed her knees up into her own stomach. Tears fell from her eyes as blood ran from both her nose and mouth. Then, quietly, her body went limp, hands falling to the ground and muscles relaxing.
Behind her Ciara fell on to her back, back of her head thudding against the ground. Her hands were at her stomach trying desperately to hold her entrails in. Coughing up blood she stared up at the ceiling with stinging tears rolling down her temples. "OH GOD! HELP ME, HELP ME!" She wailed, her voice gargled, "I DON'T WANT TO DIE! PLEASE! OH GOD, OH GOD IT HURTS!" Bloodied hands weakened, her attempts to keep her organs inside becoming less and less useful. Silently her hands dropped, circled around her stomach like a pregnant woman holding her swollen belly. Her eyes glossed over.
---
Across Nesaphei's eyes was a band of light from her slightly ajar door. Her eyes opened to see dust motes highlighted by the morning sun, while the rest of her vision was black. She was used to these sort of dreams by now. The unconscious, the dreaming, was when the ladies took their places, and the only time they referred to each other by their true names. It seemed cathartic for them even though the ending was always the same. They both fought and they both died, sometimes in quiet ways and sometimes in brutal ways. No matter what, ever since Nesaphei had become Nesaphei, that had been reality. So, when she awoke her body did not jolt awake nor did she feel anything except for a feeling of restfulness.
Picking herself up she went about her usual morning activity. Nesaphei went outside so that the cold could wake her up fully, she stretched in front of her home, and then she went for a walk. During the walk she caught something to eat and the cleaned herself up. Sometimes she'd walk through camp to see if there was any way she could pitch in and to give her leftovers to someone else. After that she went back to her home which was one of the farthest from camp. It was hard for her to sleep when there was any noise beyond normal nature sounds, and being a panther her hearing was quite excellent.
That was usually when she would try to clean up her always messy home, but this time she wanted to do something different. Nesaphei looked around her home for something to do. There was her artbook which she had already looked through numerous times, and an actual book except she didn't know how to read, and a lot of knick-knacks. However there was one thing that caught her eyes. It was three different bags for separate plant seeds, each plant having five seeds. They had been given to her by an old woman for catching her a rabbit, her favorite food, to eat. Having never planted or even seen someone plant before Nesa had forgotten them. Now it was the perfect time to go out and plant a garden. Hopefully it wouldn't die though, considering how new she was to the idea.
Gingerly picking up the bags between her teeth Nesa went out. Now where did she plant them? After a bit of guess work she finally decided on the side of her house. It was where the sun always was, usually was protected from harsh rain while allowing water to get through, and of course was super close by. Settling down where she wanted to sow the seeds she opened up the bags. Then, without a thought, she scooped up dirt then placed a seeds in the carved out hole before covering it back up. This happened fifteen more times, some holes evenly spaced out between each other and some not, she hadn't been measuring.
Alright! Al... Right. Nesa sighed, licking the dirt from under her claws and wondering what the seeds would grow to be.