09-22-2008, 06:49 PM
Destine's First Meeting with Azra Wolfsbane (Con.)
The movements of the tree gradually became less jerky and more serpentine, totally engrossing Destine. The trunk rounded out -- its shape beginning to mirror its motion. The lichen hanging from the branches swept the ground in a playful, yet still ominous, way, and the cracked pieces of bark continued to shrink, revealing a smooth, pale surface below.
And as Destine watched in awe and disgust, the faerie crept forth from her shelter. Though she had never seen it before, she knew what was happening. When she had been pulled underwater by the thorny vine, she saw a face -- a beautiful and terrible face. This was the face she saw now across the river.
The transfiguration was complete. Gaunt ivory fingers picked away excess bark that stuck to Azra's face. Lowering her hands, a mischievous grin crept into her indigo lips. She opened her feline ebony eyes and stretched her wings out in satisfaction. What once were branches extended high above her. The lichen, though now having woven itself into an ornate patchwork, flowed about her weightlessly. Large parts of her body were still armored in bark, giving Azra a scaly appearance, but the deathly white of her skin reflected the moonlight from her arms, legs, torso and face. Dark, kinky hair cascaded unhindered over her shoulders and, like her wings, had twisted itself into a thick dread that favored one side more than the other.
When Destine saw the face in her mind, she had also heard a name: Azra. This was her; she knew. Destine blushed at her beauty, almost with a tinge of jealousy. But she knew that this was not the time for that. She felt so much evil from just that one vine that the sight of this fae chilled her in a way she had never felt before.
Seemingly satisfied, Azra laughed deep and ominously, and then her eyes quickly focused in on Destine, standing bewildered and frightened. Before Destine even had a chance to study Azra's true form, Azra was standing behind her, playfully teasing her hair. Azra had indeed flown over her and the river, but did it so swiftly and soundlessly that Destine's eye couldn't keep up.
Azra leaned close, hissing into Destine's ear in a soft alto that was more chilling than comforting. "Don't be so coy, Destine. You've been in my dreams; I know I've been in yours. You've been expecting me; you don't have to deny it." She gently lifted a few strands of Destine's hair and inhaled deeply. The pungent smell of rotting autumn leaves that emanated from the succubine fae was intoxicating.
Destine spread her wings and turned sharply in response, knocking Azra back a few feet. "Yes," she said curtly, "you have been in my dreams. Why? Tell me and be on your way." She had unconsciously balled her fists and they began to shake from the strain.
Azra poised herself atop one of the roots that jutted from the ground around Destine's home. She chuckled smugly. "Hmpf. Don't be so presumptuous. This is about the both of us." Azra looked around her, a glint of spite in her eye. "'Protector of the Shadowgrounds,' eh? I despise this place, the meandering travelers, the awestruck lovers, the curious, the adventurous....." She paused and stopped looking around her to face Destine directly. "...the mundane, the boring. You think you know the Shadowgrounds? Come to my home," she sneered.
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