Adara

There was no room in Adara’s stonewalled heart for company. Her lips curled and she snarled, donning the night like a cloak and fading into obscurity. It was her job to be unseen, to be forgotten, a rat among the sewer walls, a maggot infestation far beneath the pits of the land, clawing into the most private reaches of the world in order to pry apart its careful secrets.

Her duty meant that for once, Adara’s purpose was in her control. No longer the babe abandoned and left shrieking with wet cheeks and dry throat, dull nails reaching for the sky, reaching for a mother, a father, a family, and finding the cruel screaming laughter of the silence to ring in her ears. Left at her most vulnerable, left at her broken infancy, she was barely raised, prickly and sneering with her narrowed eyes trained to the throat, the limbs, trained to harm to keep from harm. She swore she would never possess so little control again. Ever again.

Her claws shredded stone in passing, teeth parted to breathe in the sickly sweet summer stench of rich pollen, swathed by darkness and illuminated by the moon’s relentless watch. She met her informant, a creature of little importance, snatching the letter from their hands and writhing back into the far corners. Adara grew ever closer to connecting names, connecting families, connecting secrets. She harboured knowledge violent and chaotic, the verbal power to bring down cities. Her powerless infancy had bled from her, her gilded iron heart beating thick with a superior love of the control she expressed among even the most noble of families.

She would force the world to forget her, but no longer would she ever be left in this world without ripping the land apart to leave her mark in it. She would bury the largest wound in all the lands.

And she would never be powerless again.


~Lore by PunchingSolas~