The Melding

I was bored and I decided to see if Kore and Katra would fit together as a story ... Here's what I got.

-

In the middle of Winter at the base of the Caucasus Mountains lay the home of the most famed women warriors in history, the Amazons. Within this village can be heard the screams of the Queen Andromache as she births her first child, a beautiful baby girl; it is also on this night that this child is taken by a group of Greek warriors.

As the child lay sleeping and the mother is sleeping the Greek make their way into the village, their swords at the ready, and into the queen’s holdings.

On that night, as the cool air blew through the village, a Greek male made his way into the nursery and, dispatching the sleeping nurse, he took the child.

-

Nine, I’m nine today …

These were thoughts that ran through the young girl’s mind as she awoke that morning, stretching she heard the rending of fabric and looked down to see a large rip on the side of her thin gown. At the sight of the large hole he full upper lip was pulled back over her teeth in a sneer that, though it would have been hideous on any other, could not mar the beauty of her cherubic face.

Nine and I awake in rags after a long sleep in the hay … a lovely beginning …

Climbing from her bed she went to the door only to have it open in her face as the Master made his way into her chamber. Cringing from the large man, she backed into the wall and tried to edge her way around him without being seen; she was not to be so lucky. As the Master saw her he reached for her with one large hand and grabbed a fist full of hair, using that hair he pulled the small child toward him.

“You thought to escape me, heathen? You will not be so lucky. Today is the auction and you are to look your best, you will make me more than any that have come before you.”

As his words echoed through the near empty room she winced in remembrance of the auction and just as that look faded yet another was to appear as the Master yanked her from the room by her hair.

-

Please, please, don’t make me do it …

Yet, the thoughts could not be heard as the child stood before the room of both men and women in nothing but a green paplos. She knew, though, that she had no choice …

Closing her eyes, a single tear slipping from the corner of her left eye, she let her paplos fall to the floor.

And the bidding started …

-

Not him, I don’t care who ploíarchos has chosen for the morning as long as it’s not him …

Ten years later her petite form sat curled on the edges of the bathing pool, her eyes closed as she shivered at the thought of the man …

“W***e! You’re first appointment is here, prepare yourself.”

Wincing at the words she rose from the bathing pool and shivered as the cool air hit her body, the newly form scars along her back still sore as she straightened. With each step that brought her closer to the bedroom, the gold bands seemed to tighten.

Stepping into the room, she felt as though she couldn’t breath as she saw the large man sitting on the edge of her bed.

Why, ploíarchos, why him?

Coming to the bed she whimpered as the servants grabbed her from the rear to lift her, two by her shoulders and another two by the gripping of her buttocks, up to the hooks at the top of the bedposts. As the gold bands at her wrists and ankles were latched to the sharp, inverted hooks they released her to merely drop and be caught by said hooks.

Her joints having been jarred she looked to the male and as he turned to her she was again struck by how very handsome this cruel being was, and just as she parted her lips to speak he raised his right arm and brought it down, whip in hand, over the tender flesh of her abdomen.

Crying out at the blow she prepared herself for the pain to come.

-

Her whole body, broken, dripping blood onto the silken sheets of the bed, she shivered …

And then she screamed …

“You stupid w***e!! Stupid!! Look at what he has done to you this time, how will you work? For the clients you will be disappointing, w***e, five more days with out. Do you hear me? Five more!!”

It’s already been three, ploíarchos; do you wish me to die? I can not make you money dead either …

Still the words went unspoken, she did not need to add more to the lashes to the beating that would come once she was healed. As the door slammed the servants took her from the hooks and laid her on the already bloody sheets; she closed her eyes to the pity they held with their eyes.

As they left her, Xaryk entered. He was the only one who could enter and have the only signaling of his presence be the closing of the door. Her eyes still shut, she listened as he neared.

“Katra, look at you.”

“I cannot Xaryk, can you not tell to lift my head would only further the pain. Perhaps you could help me, I do love seeing what that hideous man does to my body.”

“At least you heal it all, Katra. You do so without our help and in a matter of hours.”

“Do not speak of that as if it is a good thing, Xaryk. The only thing it brings is a worse pain, as the whip rips into virgin flesh with every beating.”

And so it went every time he came to tend her, every time he entered the room it was to chastise her.

As if I choose this life …

Suddenly she felt him lift her and it took every last shred of her willpower to not scream out. Bracing herself against the pain she felt and the pain that she knew was to come with her movement she turned to look at him askance, but he was paying her no attention. Not trusting herself to speak without screaming she merely looked in the other direction to see just where it was he was taking her. Shocked she watched a panel in her chambers open and it was into that darkness that he took her.

-

“One day, Katra, and look at you. You’ve healed.”

Shaking her head she stood to straighten the gown that he had acquired for her the night before. She still couldn’t believe she was gone from that place, and in an inn. She’d never been anywhere, but the castle.

He had saved her; though she was still unsure of the consequences of his actions she was grateful. Lifting her cloak from the bed she draped it over her shoulders and held it tight about her as she headed for the door.

“Where is it you think you are going, Katra?”

“I am leaving …”

“Not with those gold bands you’re not, they will show all what you are.”

And with his words fear tore through her; not at being found out, but at being without her bands. They showed ownership and without ownership any and all had the right to her. That fear must have shown in her eyes as Xaryk stepped toward her to wrap his arms about her. He never made it that far, she flinched away from him, her eyes going dead.

“I am a fýlo sklávos, a sex slave; I cannot be without these bands. To be without these bands is to be free and to be free, for me, would be to die in a way that you cannot even imagine. At least with ownership they cannot use me to any degree they wish, without these bands their torture and use of my body should they find my brand will know no bounds.”

And then she saw it, the pity within his gaze; it was that pity that drove her from the room and into the streets.

-

Does it have to be so cold? Could the gods not grant me one day without some kind of torture?

Shivering she made her way through the mountains, the slick muscles of her legs flexing as she climbed over the many boulders that lined the mountains base. It had been five years, five years of freedom and learning to fend for herself in the harsh nature that was so far from civilization she was never seen.

As she searched for food, her spear in hand, she heard the sound of feet in the underbrush. As those sounds registered, as she turned around, she was hit.

Ye Gods!

As she hit the ground, her head snapping back and against the surface of the rock, the breath was knocked from her lungs and whatever had hit her was no where in sight.

Sitting up, her breathing labored, she looked around. She saw nothing, absolutely no one was near. Suddenly a tree’s branch began to bend and from that branch fell a woman who had to be taller than her, a rare thing as she topped six feet.

Failing to keep her curiosity reigned in she stepped nearer to the female who sat on the ground, dazed. Coming to stand before the fallen one she watched her for a moment before clearing her throat to gain her attention, but as the other looked up they both drew a sharp breath in through their teeth as shock registered upon both near identical faces.

-

32 AD, midwinter, the princess sat upon a large horse, her long black hair pulled back and held from her face by a strip of leather.

Katra so loved her steed, Hipp, he was the only thing normal in her life anymore. The granddaughter of the god Ares, one of the few to come from an affair he had with a fury, she was immortal. She had not aged one year over nineteen; her features still young in appearance, her body still strong and limber. She was happy.

It had come as quite a shock to find that the mighty Amazon were her people, they were her family. Over the years she had learned to fight, learned to defend herself against any enemy; through it all, she still could not rid herself of her past, could not hide from what she had been. She still could not find love, nor could she find happiness when near any man.

I am broken. Be happy, you b*****d, you broke me.

Her anger welling within her she rode hard for the village, yet the anger was not at the fore. All of the bitterness, the pain, the violation; it was all there as she rode Hipp with no thought for her safety or that of the horse.

-

“Greek!! There are Greek heading for the village!”

As those words were heard her blood turned cold, her sword falling to the ground at her feet. Turning toward the direction that voice had come from she was met by her sparring partners sword, the flat of the blade slapping hard against her abdomen.

“OOWWW!! Aello, you imbecile!”

The other girl growled before lunging at Katra, her hands wrapping about her throat. As the two women rolled about on the ground they fought with such malice that you’d think them enemies when in reality the two were closer than sisters.

As Katra pulled back her right fist to give Aello a hard blow to the jaw a male sandaled foot came into view and Katra stopped cold, only to receive an upper cut to the chin. As she lay on the ground rubbing her jaw and grumbling to herself the man came to stand over her and as her gaze followed the line of his body up to what had to be the most beautiful face she had ever seen on a male a sharp pang of desire tore through her. It was so unexpected, she had never once felt desire for another, especially not this level.

The male’s deep voice resonated through the air and sent a shiver down her spine.

“What are you doing, little Warrior?”

-

She lost herself to that man, lost her heart to love, only to get three years with him.

At the end of those three years, the very day of their wedding, they were attacked by a large band of Greek Warriors invaded.

On this day she watched him fall …

On this day, she was to lose nearly all that she was ..

　

There, in the midst of the Peloponnesian War, she was called.

A small group of Graeae had gathered with the goal of raising an evil one to assist their people in the war, to stop the Athenians.

As the Graeae completed their calling, as they finished asking their favor of the Goddess Hecate, a great high screech echoed through the small cave they had gathered in to perform the summoning. The screech would grow near, the sound becoming near unbearable to their mortal ears as a large Empusa Demon came to land before them, her great bat-like wings stretching to a span of 8 feet before they were brought close to be tucked into their designated pocket located at the either side of the beings spine.
Looking down upon the frail older women the demon’s upper lips was brought back in a sneer that, though frightening, in no way marred her perfect beauty. The crimson flesh of the female demon looked a near purple in the darkness of the cave as she began to move toward the humans; as she did so her voice would resonate through the cave, her accent implacable.

“Humans, in answer to your summoning my Goddess Hecate has sent you me. Know this, I come of my own choice as no other wished to help lessen the deaths of your race; also, none other wished to give up their form to assist such a pitiful species.”

As the beings words came to an end another screech would be heard and, since the being was so near to them, the sound near to knocked the humans unconscious.

The beautiful color began to fade to a sun-kissed hue as the beings bones began to fall in on each other, her body itself being forced to lessen in size; she was becoming human in form. Just as suddenly as the change had occurred the small feminine body burst into a cloud of ash, a shrill cry to be heard resonating through the cave. A ragged, indrawn breath was heard from the Amazonian crumpled on the floor as her body came to be covered in a series of odd markings. Surging to her feet the princess trembled and just as quickly feel; as the petite female crumpled to the floor the older women surged to their feet and ran toward the newly formed being in horror and worry at what they had just seen. Feeling them come near her the female looked up and within her two-colored gaze was bitterness and hate for what she had just done to herself, for what she had given up because she felt pity for these retched beings.

And now …. Now, she looked of them …

Upon the end of the war, April 25 404 BC, she was unchanged.

Through it all she had not aged one year, the only changes upon her body were the worn scars of battle; each scar, though, brought her a new wave of bitterness at it’s appearance. Why Hecate had allowed her to keep the fast regeneration of flesh yet still made her human body scar was beyond her, she was lucky to still be able to heal at any rate in this body.
The Athenians had surrendered, the cowards; the war had been amazingly enjoyable. Upon coming into this body she had thought everything would be unbearably boring and yet, she had loved every moment on the battlefield; she had even enjoyed the people that fought at her side once they accepted her and what she was.

Standing in the middle of the village she looked around ..

“What is there to do now?”

Get the hell out of my body, that’s what …

Moving further into the crowd she could, but laugh at Katra …

“You’re stuck with me, dearie … learn to cope ..”
-
It’s been so long since the war that the faces of those people have disappeared in her memory. The present war is quite interesting though, for some reason they seem to think women should be home and practicing their maidenly embroidering and flouncing about in dresses. To be honest, she is near to going mad with the inactivity of it all.
There are other things to entertain the mind though, such as the lovely men that seem to abound at every turn of a corner. She has entertained herself with men upon many occasion over the past centuries and this century by far has the most lovely, though Katra at one time tried to fight her will to enjoy herself those feelings passed. Though bitter at times, Katra still feels many sensations of this body and her memories have come in handy with many of the men. Their armor, the men’s, is what catches her attention, even in her present human form she is infatuated with things of the shiny sort.

To this day, she has yet to eat another and she fights the hunger every second of every day, her derma glyphs pulse with life beneath the gowns of this time. She was summoned to help these people, summoned to prevent more death and now that the war she was meant for has ended she fights to prevent the death of others at her own hands, perhaps humanity is contagious.

-
He is lovely … these were her first thoughts when she came across him, the only man she had ever felt anything more than a momentary lust for; the only man she would ever love.

It was in the mid 13th century and of late men seemed to draw her attention less and less, their existence to her becoming tedious; and then she saw him.

She had ventured out into the large forest that lay at the rear of the manor she presently occupied, it was one of the many that she owned in Europe. Quite suddenly the sound of horses crashing through the brush was heard and even more suddenly three horses were pulled up before. As the horses came to a stop she was ready, having already unsheathed the customized broadsword that she kept at her hip.
The men atop the horses were in full armor, their faces hidden; she knew, though, that were surprised. She hated the flowing gowns that were customary in this time period preferring to wear leather made to fit to her form, nothing to get in the way of her step or the slashing of blade. She stared up at them and the male at their head slowly reached to remove his helmet.
As the helmet was removed she was caught by his beauty and even more by the swirling silver of his eyes, it had been so long since the looks of a man had held that for the first time she allowed herself to be distracted. Jumping form his steed he towered over her, his height at far over the average 6’, he was something to behold. Coming to her senses she took notice as soon as he took a step toward she leaped to twist to her right and in that turn she brought the heavy sword above her head and down in a great arch toward the man’s thick neck; yet he wasn’t there, he had moved so quickly and now he stood at her rear. As a growl issued forth from her own lush lips the male went to grab her and was to only meet air as she had transported herself, coming to appear a 10 ft to his rear. She allowed her upper lip to lift in a sneer, baring her slightly pointed canines; though she had revealed she was not human, the men still remained. It was then that the leader’s deep voice sounded, it’s beautiful accent filling the wood.

“Come, Empusa, do not run …. Though I love to give chase to a beautiful woman it would only draw out the inevitable.”

He was there to kill her … yet she couldn’t bring herself to fear him ….

He was of the ancients, she came to discover …. He was of them, the Graeae; the ones who had called her forth.

He did not kill her, when the time came and they had fought themselves into exhaustion, he could not bring himself to do it.

Instead … he loved her.

-
The years had gone by so quickly, the five seeming like no more than one. Though in those few years their love had grown and a child, the most beautiful child in the world, was the outcome. And it all disappeared so quickly …
They were together, eating their evening meal, when the soldiers came. The door had been broken in and as soon as they had entered her beautiful home they went for them. There was no warning, no chance to run; they went for her baby, her beautiful Bel, and as she lunged for them she saw her child’s body drop. It was in that moment the demon within her came alive, the moment she lost herself to the rage and the hunger and instead of drawing her sword she went for them with her teeth and nails, with her well-honed muscles and fighting prowess. She had killed ten of them and the blood of her kills flowed down over her breasts and abdomen, soaking her shirt to front; her husband was still alive, she could see him hacking through the soldiers. She yelled, yelled for him to run and as he turned to her with a look of determination in his beautiful eyes he caught sight of the crumpled form of their baby upon the floor; and his head dropped from his shoulders.

She killed them all, though their flesh tasted of ash in her mouth she killed everyone of them. That night she lost all hope for humanity, that night she gave up fighting her hunger and became what she was meant to be.

She was Empusa, the most horrid of the demon species … she was cold and even the soothing words of the one she was closest to could not salve the pain and bitterness she felt.

　

　

　

Author's Note

Just seeing if this would work if I decided to go deeper into it ..