lady moonlight, 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐌𝐀𝐍 [hiatus.]

dream a little dream of me ───── iii.

(𝟏x𝟎𝟑)

               THERE WAS A HAUNTING SOUND OF GENTLE CRIES. The one now named Athenodora had tears washing the redness of her cheeks, kissing the skin until they dropped on her bent knees as if they were feathers falling against fresh snow. Her legs quivered and collided against each other while she hugged herself tighter as if the girl could somehow disappear if she pressed her thighs against her torso hard enough. Wishful thinking seemed to be her only faithful companion most nights, the ones she felt like an anguished soul repenting for the most stygian of sins.

───── Lady? ───── There was a tender call for her. The sepulchral timbre came familiarly from her threshold, its cavernous cadence almost forcing the walls to tremble at its sound. While Athenodora hid at the darkest corner of her chambers, curved in a fœtal position, she could agnize whose voice it belonged to with little effort. Vigorous as it was, she had not been surprised when a frowning Morpheus, clothed in all ebony, blossomed in front of her. ───── Lucienne divulged that you would spend time with some of my creations today. Has any of them harmed you?

Disturbia swayed her head to the sides, forelocks like lashes cutting through her skin. How could she, a stranger who had merely arrived by force and had spent so little time in the Dream speak ill of those who preceded her? Both in the realm and Morpheus's heart. Disturbia wouldn't, ───── couldn't dare tarnish his creations with idle gossip and poisonous words. After all the teaching he had passed on her, it was beneath the girl to do so. To act like a schoolgirl whose bullies whispered rumours behind her back.

It was all still so surreal to her. Sensing the boredom emanating out of Athenodora like heat waves, Lucienne propounded a walk to the castle grounds, where she could spend the evening enjoying the beauties of the Dreaming and perhaps clear the worries that settled into her. And there she wandered, like a seraphic nymph treading on clouds as nature coiled around her sinuous silhouette and wind lacerated through the brownness of her hair. She moved gracefully, only halting to caress the prettiest of flowers or to greet the familiar servants that bid her good morning. 

A figure gripped her forearm, its grip like roots puncturing the ground. The succubus-like critter hissed to show the sharpness of her fangs, so identical to the tips of arrows. They had witheringly sputtered words of venom, acrimonious syllables which provoked Athenodora to manoeuvre backwards until her stiff back touched a very petite fountain. Unable to leave such an unpleasant situation, the beauty covered her ears as if said act could block the septic insults thrown at her frail body.

───── Witch! Temptress! Ugly demon! It is you who brings misfortune for us nightmares... You do not belong here, wretch! ───── It was only when she had shrunk enough to resemble a frightened pet that the ghastly brute allowed her to be left in her own desolated company. The girl had run to her chambers almost immediately, the skirt of her long, ashen dress hitting her teetering knees.