scene/chapter #1

Meet our leading lady. A stubborn one this little peach is. She is telling me her story and I am bringing it to you. However, this is not your typical heroine. She has a indomitable will and is ...

At the dawn of the day, the place known only as Sanctuary awoke to an inhuman sound, a deep roar shook the buildings and shattered a nearby statue. The people of Sanctuary fell to their knees gasping in pain. Eardrums rang. Noses bled. Hearts stopped. Or at least people thought they did. The mountain moved under the force of that charge. So desperate and broken was the sound, that the devil himself could have been responsible.

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Iliana woke on her bed, her throat parched. She licked and bit at the chapped skin of her bottom lip. She needed fluid. Her head felt three times it’s size. It pounded. Her body ached. She tried swallowing to get the small amount of moisture in her mouth to lubricate her throat. It was raw and soon she tasted small amounts of blood. It was iron-rich, but there was another taste always present. Her old friend. Bitterness. She licked her lips again and tried to move. Iliana hissed out a breath and rolled over as a wave of pain hit her. Panting through the movement she tried to sit up and almost blacked out from the effort. Her grunt came out more like a whimper, and she could only imagine what the others would think if they saw her now.

Her spine was on fire and she had sharp aches in both her hips. She tried wiggling her toes and was surprised to find very little pain associated with the movement. Okay, maybe it wouldn't be totally terrible. Attempting a slow roll towards the side of the bed, a sharp stab overloaded her senses. "Hell." Good job moron. Today was going to be a bad one. Iliana hated self-pity, but she wasn’t emotionally invincible and everyone had bad days. Apparently, her number was up and this was hers. She cursed her body and her circumstances. She had long ago made her choices and she would live with them damn it.  She lie there for another few moments to regain her breath. Right now, all she wanted was someone to pick her up off this damned mattress and put her on a magician's table, work her over until every muscle was stretched and supple. Every joint was manipulated and adjusted. Each vertebrae in her spine decompressed. Mmm. Magic fingers would be nice. Strong hands attached to even stronger forearms. Those arms would definitely be attached to a killer body and an incredible face. With a heavy exhale at her wool gathering, she let thoughts of her fantasy man go.  She only wanted to roll over like a normal person and get out of this damn bed. Blowing out another breath, she went through a series of mental exercises. The purpose was to allow her to disconnect her mind from the pain. The trick was not to allow the disconnection for too long. The consequences could be severe, otherwise. She tried thinking of anyone she could have called in the past to help her. An exercise in futility to say the least. Iliana, trusted no one enough to bring them to her sanctuary and allow them access to her at her most vulnerable. They've all deserted her anyway.

Hell. Only a few options where truly available. And neither was any kind of a solution. A stop gap measure at best. First thing first, she had to turn over to at least get her feet on the ground. She looked towards the bedroom window of her small stone cottage. Her home was only two large rooms with wide windows dominating the majority of the space to let in the sun and moonlight. She loved the light of either time of day.  But her favorite moments of communion with the sun happened at Sunrise and Sunset. A tear, fat and salty,slid down her cheek just then. When she still had the ability still to make the trek, she would sit on a flat smooth stone for hours each afternoon and let the light caress her skin until it warmed and glowed with health and vitality. Gauging the sounds of the night and the lack of morning song from the birds, she guessed at the hour. She still had at least two hours before the dawn. Her cottage was nestled deep in the mountains. During the colder nights she spent most of her time by the well used hearth. There were few comforts in her mountain cottage, but she did have a wood burning stove she used for simple meals, polished wood floors, well worn with age and a table large enough for a small party of people to eat comfortably if she ever chose.

She smiled darkly at the irony. Iliana never chose to have company and company never chose her. Silence and the cocoon her mountain offered suited her just fine. Reaching out with her left arm, she tightened a hand around a solid corded length of rope attached to a rung secured by the post of her bed. To any outside observer, it would look as though she were into darker appetites. But the silk cords were easy on her hands and sturdy under the constant use of their more practical function. She inched her way to the side of the bed, moaning  with stress. Another poker of pain hit low in her spine. A few tears and mental curses later she had herself to the edge. Each movement was a small victory and she knew she was causing more damage than she could repair herself but she didn’t care. There was no telling how much she had before her stubbornness and body lost their battle. Iliana still had time and would wring every last ounce of effort out of herself before the end. Her family always said she would survive on sheer force of will alone. She grinned a feral smile. There was plenty of work to do.

Author's Note

Ignore spelling and grammatical errors. This is being posted as it's written. I want to hear knee jerk reactions to our character, I've done some research and she isn't the typical mix of vixen and innocence. Right now the first meeting is hard and kind of in your face, but I like that about her. Let me know in your comments. She is letting me see this story in pieces. I apologize, for I know it will all eventually come out, but I can't guarantee it will be in any kind of order.