Apr
12
12
DISCLAIMER – This story features images of violence, adult language, and some adult situations.
The following story is Copyright © 2015 Padraig O’C. Copying this story without permission from the author is strictly prohibited.
Suffering from Soulburn is a hard to explain. Awakening from exhausting oneself to the point of the edge was to purchase a one way ticket further along to meet old grim himself. To say that there was pain was to be without proper description. No, it was far more like waking up like a horrible hangoer with the flu tacked on. That was even further made worse by the feeling deep within ones bones of of unrequited fatigue. A series of imaginary weights which gripped, held, and dragged the victim down back into bed. The feeling would remaine for hours, a day if not longer.
A feeling that would be then followed by other symptons. First there was the strange coppery taste, or far more correctly the taste of metal that she could not figure what. So it was then that she spent the first four hours of the morning from eight to nearly twelve in bed. Nyla nursed just a bit of milk as she tried to regain her strength. Already her eyes were starting to split with the stabbing irritation. That irritation slowly grew into burningn discomfort when she sat up to clear her mind. A shower would be necessary.
A fine sheen of sweat was drenched over her body, and she could feel the sense of weight just dragging on her limbs. She already knew the price she would be paying for the rest of the day. Her skin was looking paler than it usually was, and her teeth felt so off. As she licked her lips she cut her tongue while noting that her canines were no longer human, and were no likely to cut easily any bit of flesh she bit into. Wonderful, she was going to be walking around with her Fae blood on display.
This is why they usually kill Changelings, or force us into retainership. Fae were easily displeased when their presence on eartrh was revealed. It usually ended up with a room filled with dead mortals. Especially worse when two tribes went to war. Her eyes started to ache again as she felt a tingling running up her spine. Usually her Fae nature was hidden by her half-blooded status (half-blood being a relative term). But now that she was sufffering from Soulburn it meant that her natural inborn magical nature would have to be hidden for the day.
Up she was then, on her way to the bathroom to get in a shower. The young woman looked into the mirror to notice how her eyes now had the typical metallica reflective nature they had when she pushed herself to the limit. Showering out her hair only revealed more of inhumanity that was drizzling out of her that day.
She exited the bathroom in nothing but a towel, and stopped just at the to peek to make sure Jack was not around. Her mentor liked to nag her about breaking Soulburn. So it was not at all surprising when she hit him with the back of the door when she fully opened it. The man shook his head as he dodged out of her way and sat down at the little table she kept int he kichenette. Her eyes were straight on him as he sat back in his usual waist coat, dress pants, and shined boots. Tims time he was sporting a black novelty top hat.
“Find anything last night?” he asked her slowly as she turned to disappear into the bedroom.
“Bone Ash circle scrawled with Futhark, Ancient Chinese, and Elder Tongue proto-Ogham,” she said as she returned wearing a robe, and then sat down. Her finger nails tapping on the cabinet as she stared at them. Great, now I have talons. She usually bit her nails, and was not too much into the notion of painting them.
“Anything else,” the elder Fae asked. His hands folded neatly into a little pyramid of contemplation as he leaned forward with his elbows. Her eyes met his.
“The spirit of the victim said the murder had a tattoo of an imperious sun with three lines thick like calligraphy spiraling out from it,” she added. Her words seem to cement a air of foreboding around the man as he rubbed his head.
“Not good, I’ll have to consult my sources within the courts, that sign is not known to me very well,” he said to her slowly. Jack was just popping in for an update on last nights sojourn. The man’s reaction so far did not farewell to enlighten Nyla’s already frayed nerves. Whatever had attacked her last night knew she was a Changeling which mean that the killers were aware of her part in the local landscape of the occult. Not good at all.
Nyla reached to grab a cup to prepare some coffee, and then turned around to say, “So when will you-” But was stopped in mid-sentence as she noticed Jack was gone. Typical. Her ment came, and went as he pleased. He was the ‘namer’ of things for a widely placed community of Fae. All the local factions, or courts, paid heed to what Jack had to say. Perhaps one of the very reasons she was not yet dead. It was then she reminded herself of the matter of a blind date.
“CRAP,”she exclaimed as she realized it was only a few hours. Running back into her room she grabbed her phone to see a notification, and sighed. Fuck my life.
Next Part: Chapter 7
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