Mystical
Solemn - Regretful - Loyal
Pet Information
Pet Name: Mystical
Owner: Flygon
Theme / Type: Wintercursed Lirionox
Born: December 22, 2009
Battle Portal Stats
Hit Points: 3 / 3
Strength: 5
Defense: 4
Speed: 6
Intellect: 4
Misticpower: 3
Battles Won: 0
Battles Lost: 0
| Attached Weapons | |
Books Read
Books Read: None
Exotic Foods Eaten
Foods Eaten: 3/1254 [ View Foods ]
1. - Chocolate Pomme
2. - Demon Pomme
3. - Nocturnal Pomme
2. - Demon Pomme
3. - Nocturnal Pomme
...
*Boxed: 9:02 AM Mistic Time! December 26, 2009*
I am bound to serve Boreal by my actions. Hurt her and I shall revenge her. Do not blame me though. It is not my fault for choosing life over death...
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All he felt was the cold.
He didn't know where he was or how he'd gotten here, or why he was suddenly alone. Where was the rest of his family? All he knew was his fur was stiff with ice, and his skin seemed to be compressing his body till it felt so tight it was painful. He shifted his legs and needles of pain suddenly roared up his body; he gritted his teeth, too afraid of this freezing place to show any signs of weakness.
The sharp, rhythmic clicking of heels on stone began echoing across the room. The Lirionox lifted his head and swallowed hard, wondering who or what he was about to face. What kind of creature lived in these frigid lands? Inarbu were all he could think of, but whatever was approaching did not have paws. Even claws could not make those exact staccato sounds.
Finally he could see a figure - a tall, human shape, swathed in blue. It was a woman, albeit a strange one to the Lirionox. As she came closer he could see her clearly: her skin was smooth and dark as an onyx stone, but her hair was brilliant white. She was corseted and belted tightly in sky blue right up to under her ample bosom, and so snugly clothed in deep navy, trimmed in gold, above the corset it appeared for a moment that she was bare-chested. Her skirt was also dark navy blue, full and flowing like a grand ball gown, long enough to trail elegantly behind her. At first the Lirionox thought her beautiful, by human standards at least.
Then he saw her eyes.
The depth of their coldness could hardly be described. It was like staring at ice, or being smothered in snow. He saw nothing. Not a glimmer of emotion sparkled behind her blank, white eyes. He could hardly bear to look at this frightful being, and dropped his gaze.
"Mystical," she said, and it was like his blood had turned to ice. He forced his half-frozen body to move, to shift back from this ice queen who somehow knew his name. He thought he saw the faintest twitch of her lips, as if his fear were amusing. It probably was.
"I am Queen Boreal," she ignored Mystical's shuffling and took a step toward him, her face smooth as stone, "Do you know why you are here?" Somehow, the question sounded like a command coming from the Queen; her voice a low, almost whispering sound like snow whipped through dead branches.
Mystical shook his head; he could not speak. Meeting the fabled Queen Boreal was like standing before a glacier that had come to life. The cold nothingness that made up the woman was truly the most frightening thing the Lirionox had ever experienced, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, rendering him quite mute. She took yet another step towards him and he flinched back, yet again swearing he saw her lips draw up ever so slightly. Truly a formidable woman, to delight in other's terror.
"Before you begin to flatter yourself," she began, and that cold voice of hers never changed pitch, staying barely above a whisper though he caught every raspy word, "You are not special. I did not bring you here because I need or want you. Know now that you are naught but a display of my terrible power, a warning, a device to shock everyone into awe of me."
All Mystical could do was give the faintest nod, still avoiding the Queen's diamond eyes. She said nothing for several moments, the only sound the crackling ice and eerie keen of the chill wind outside, though he doubted inside was any warmer. It seemed to be a palace of ice and he had been tossed into a bare room. He wouldn't survive this cold! What was to become of him? Boreal didn't seem interested in offering up the information, so Mystical swallowed hard and gathered enough courage to squeak out, "What's to become of me?"
Something flashed behind those blank, staring white eyes; something like lightning or the flash of a blade in sunlight. Was it anger because he'd spoken? Or had he said the right thing and sparked the cold woman's interest? Either way, she said nothing for what seemed an eternity, letting the question hang in the air. On purpose, surely; for each passing second seemed to tighten Mystical's throat and chest, like an iron fist had his heart and throat in its grip. He was terrified of the answer and yet desperately needed to know it.
Finally she spoke. "You will die here," she said matter-of-factly, not so much as a note of amusement in her windswept whisper of a voice. Boreal turned to go, her grand navy ball gown sweeping in a circle about her feet, and Mystical couldn't take it, he called out to her: "No!"
The Queen stopped dead and, very slowly, as if doubting what she had heard, turned to face the shivering Lirionox.
He wished she hadn't.
Boreal's cold, dead eyes burned now, fiercely so; as if a sea of diamonds had been set ablaze by the sun! Her fiery white gaze bored into Mystical's wide, fearful eyes; he shuffled back, forcing his frozen limbs to move, terrified of what he had provoked in the woman, and what she would do to him for it. He shook and cowered, too afraid to be ashamed of it.
"You, my prisoner, do not contradict me!" she roared, the cold wind of her voice rising to a ferocious gale, her shapely body drawn up to full height, her chin high and proud, "You will die! I have decided it so, and it shall be as I say!"
Mystical should have pinned himself to the back wall for fear of the Queen, but instead her anger stirred something in him: indignation. This woman thought he would simply agree to die quietly because it was her will? What an arrogant witch, to believe the world bent to her command! He certainly would not! But he had no power. The truth was, she could do with him as she wanted; he had nothing but himself to bargain with, and hopefully that would be enough.
"Let me live! Let me live and you may do with me as you wish," he cried, terrified she would not hear him, that her anger would render her deaf to his plea.
It seemed to soothe the Queen...a bit. Her body relaxed, though she still looked down upon him as though he were a slimy rock underfoot, and the fire in her eyes had turned from a blaze to hot cinders. He watched her carefully, afraid but hopeful.
"I would ask nothing less than every part of you. Your very soul, to be frozen and kept by my curse," she said, and Mystical was relieved to hear the quiet rasp of her voice.
Mystical knew exactly what she meant and what it would cost. But it was worth his life and his freedom. He nodded, swallowing hard. Boreal gave a curt nod and swept out of the icy chamber, leaving the Lirionox nothing but his thoughts, dreadful as they were. To be a servant of this terrible queen? Could he truly hand his soul to this woman, who would just as happily have left him here to die, as nothing but a display of her power?
She returned only moments later and the Lirionox decided he had no choice. In her delicate ebony hands she held...a box. It was small and rectangular and colored deep black. On its front an intricate snowflake carved of diamond gleamed. The bottom was trimmed in what looked to be icicles, sharp as daggers, or maybe fangs. Mystical eyed the thing warily, knowing what it was and what it would now do.
Wordlessly, Boreal held it out to the Lirionox, and slowly drew open the top.
Mystical forced his frigid body forward, his limbs screaming in agony, the ice on his fur snapping and crackling with every movement. He sighed with resignation and looked inside.
He saw blackness. Surely, within this cursed box lay the deepest, impenetrable darkness the world possessed! His eyes were transfixed by the pure nothingess, and suddenly wispy white tendrils, like smoke, rose out of the box and started swirling around him. Mystical forced himself to stay still; Boreal was watching intently, and he dare not make a wrong move now. Black wisps joined the white, intertwining themselves about his body like macabre lace, and his body was enveloped in the most complete cold he had ever felt. Icicles stabbed his heart; he gasped wildly for breath but found none. His limbs were paralyzed, encased in the freezing tendrils closing in around him, tightening like some hungry python devouring its meal. Mystical cried out but found no voice; all he heard was the low, rasping laughter of the queen, that voice like wind roaring through dead things.
And then it was over.
The cold and ice around him no longer made him shiver. His legs and limbs felt smooth and in experimentation he moved, and heard no crack of ice or tendon. Fear left him completely and he looked at the Queen directly; she knew he was hers utterly now, and did not bother to reprimand him. Boreal closed her box and set it on the floor beside her feet, and now a truly wicked grin graced her beautifully cold elfin face.
She looked her new servant over: his deep black and navy fur, like her own gown, and blank white eyes, also like her. Boreal knew the Lirionox was hers to his very core now, and stepped aside, revealing the door behind her.
"Leave," she said, and Mystical nodded, pausing to dip his head to her deeply as he passed.
Suddenly the snow outside seemed a welcome chill.
Story by Caustic
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