Silence…. Everlasting silence for all eternity. Not a breadth of life anywhere, which was the punishment decreed by the ‘gods’ for her tyranny. Ten thousand years had passed since Ebony the Nameless was imprisoned in this crypt and she had long faded into myth, forgotten by the world and used instead as a way to scare misbehaving children into conformity. Once the peak of the world, the queen of hatred now but a discarnate soul who is destroying her power in order to discreetly fade away from the prison into the world outside, where she belongs.
With the last dregs of her power she broke through her shackles and into the twilight of her world, weak and with only the strength to possess a mortal. She flew through the ebbing night and finally found what she so desperately needed, a small, nondescript village nestled in the mountains, lacking all but some Aura, the necessary component to ascend and break the chains mortality. Flying towards the nearest building she gazed inside and shook her head and thought to herself “not good… not good at all, the only virginal girl in this entire god forsaken village is this thing that lacks even the slightest beauty, geez my standards have dropped.” And with that deprecating comment she invaded the body and crushed the soul residing within, without the slightest care for the agony involved of forcibly tearing a soul from its host she took control, and the only pure child of the village, was no more.
Ebony awoke with the sounds of life, the cattle grazing, the pots clanking and the men swearing at each other before the routine hunt for food and ego. Ebony woke stiff from the hard, baked earth but the feeling of joy echoed throughout her soul, I can feel, I have a body, I have returned to this world that cherishes men and despises woman ready to flip it on its head. Her smile glorious, she donned her host body’s clothes, a threadbare gown, made of flax and stitched using nestles high at the neck and cut off at the knee. Her sandals were hard pieces of wood, with a strap of leather to hold them on to her small, rough nailed feet. A man’s voice echoed throughout the shed she slept in, “Where is that whore, where is she!” The curtain, enclosing her of the outside was pulled down, as a muscular man walked in, carrying hunting gear and armed with a few rusting daggers. Seeing her standing in front of him dressed, with a pleased expression upon her bruised face made him go ballistic. “Slut we are going hunting today, why aren’t you there to carry our gear you lowly slave.”
Ebony answered back quickly while plastering a worried, intimidated expression up her face, “so so sorry, I didn’t mean to be late master.” In her mind though it was a completely different story, as she thought “this is perfect, I need a way to cultivate in peace and discard this awful appearance and running away during a hunting expedition while carrying their supplies will allow me to not worry about food until I’m strong enough to fetch it myself.” The man responded with a gruff “Is that so, well come along we are already late as it is.” While bowing low she followed the man and gazed upon her task and in turn salvation, a rucksack filled to the brim with cheeses and meats was there, with two drawstrings to loop around her arms and flat as a board chest so as to keep it from sagging or coming undone.
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Ebony uttered a slight sound as the weight of the foodstuffs fell upon her malnourished and boney shoulders, back and neck. The huntsman set off at a constant pace that was slightly to fast for Ebony’s body to take with her current condition resulting in waves of fatigue rippling throughout her being as the hours went on and they went higher into the foothills. The chill of the air bit into her skin and her hair stood to attention in response to the cold. Ebony overheard the men talking over the seasons change and the harvest and quickly became aware that they were still a few moons away from the first snows leading plenty of time to find shelter to ride out the winter when she escaped.
The sun soon set in the mountains and then came her real test, escaping the huntsman on sentry go without getting caught. The weather was foul, the wind howled, the rain plummeted and the huntsman were miserable in their makeshift tents around the fire. Ebony with her status as a slave was left outside to watch the food so as to prevent scavengers which suited her just fine. Despite her soaked dress clinging to her body she rose silently without the slightest squelch and with a look both ways grabbed the rucksack she had carried all day, donned it upon her back and set off towards the mountain, away from the lush hunting grounds and into the desolate stone. Luck was on her side to send this storm as despite the horrible hiking conditions, all the wild animals would be cowering in their dens and the huntsman would be trying to stay warm as they played with their slaves under the blankets they packed.
As Ebony scrambled up the rocky path she tripped and with a “son of a bitch” she gazed upon her leg, which bleed profusely and mixed with the water to create streams of blood riding down the hill. Weary and eager for warmth she waded through the bog like mud and found more then she could ever hope for, a cave hidden from eyes with an overhang protecting from the rain. She crept up, peered in and with a bold step went straight inside. She flung her rucksack onto the ground and fell asleep the moment her head hit the floor.
Ebony awoke to the clamor of howls as the wildlife crept from their caves ready to hunt. Ebony felt rested and went straight into her bag eager to devour the fruits of her work. She relished the taste of the salt on her tongue and wanted to gorge herself but knew that unless she rationed it until she grew powerful enough to hunt for more she would starve. Ebony’s body was a piece of trash it was malnourished and ugly. Now let me tell you something Ebony was and still is an egotistical, vain and opinionated person who felt that she was better than everyone else who also possessed a bountiful cleavage which she was once very proud of. So for her to gaze upon a body this bruised, broken and ‘flat’ and to know that it was hers made a feeling of distaste to rise up from the depths of her soul.