Timeless

Adventuring through twisted time.

Libelle had grown into her role of being the Drake Empress; her species was one that was rare but there were enough of them that followed her. Becoming a leader had been utterly hard on her mainly because she didn’t view herself as one. Yet when her people needed her she stepped up to help them. She had learned through that time who had started the banisher groups the people that feared the Drakes so desperately it made no sense to her. Why would the sanguine family of Dracula fear her people enough to create the banishers. Well that wasn’t all true the Banishers were created to destroy the Dragons. Causing her Great uncle to fuse their souls with the riders. So the Drakes were born. Yet the death of her uncle by a banisher caused the drakes to run in fear.

That Fear was still inside of the Drakes anytime one gets close to another. There was always that fear that man or woman you were falling in love with could be the person who is just there to end your life. So when Libelle learned of the bloodline that created the banishers was still around her curiosity was piqued. She found herself watching the children of the bloodline. Wondering which one would be the weakest of them. Wondering who she could take, part of her wanted revenge after all these people were the reason her great uncle and her father were dead in a way. She landed on one, she didn’t know her name but she knew she could easily take her. She seemed to be the one who was alone a lot.

So Libelle watched her leave going for her evening walk. Libelle fell into the walk behind her after a moment. As she gained space between them, and no one else was around she let her sleep gas pass her lips and blew it in the direction of the woman. As she watched the woman waver she moved in and caught her before she fell to the ground. Libelle ran her finger against the woman's neck to feel her breathing before moving to hold her to her side. She made the short distance to the home she had been in at that moment. Once in the home she placed the woman on the ground and locked chains around her that had been blessed so she couldn’t break the bounds of the chains easily. She moved sitting in a chair and waited for her to wake from the knockout gas.

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A silence simmered into the air. Artemis didn't say anything to Libelle's comment about Vega. Instead, she cast a knowing look her way because she had just said the same thing in so many words. Nor did she re-explain why they were here. She had answered. But at some point, she knew she would need to just show Libelle.


And so, silence.


Artemis squatted and buried her hand into the warm sand. A frown flipping her pleasant features. Lifting her hand and watching the sand seep through the gaps between her fingers. Why this beach? It had always been her question to The Wind. But her intrigue with the question grew at Libelle's words on knowing the beach. She tutted her tongue against her teeth to represent a laugh. “This is the beach I met The Wind on.” She rose and brushed off her hands. But decided not to continue her explanation. It would probably make things more confusing. and it wasn't the story they were here to get.
She was a second away from leading Libelle to where they should be going when the scene changed. Artie glared upwards for a second. In a silent complaint to The Wind for taking them off course. “Mine.” She said matter of factly as The Wind nudged her like an annoying sibling or friend. “But I think there may be something here you need to come to terms with or get closure for. Since The Wind was insistent on bringing us here.” Artie seemed slightly annoyed by The Wind suddenly but still smiled at Libelle. Eventually, she sat at the bar. Watching little Libelle and her mother. Trying to figure out why they were being shown this. Then realizing maybe her presence was unimportant. Artemis being there was probably neither here nor there.

And so she sat in silence once again.


✧ Answers are needed ✧
Gypsy, always shrouded in mystery, their actions keeping one perpetually on edge. As the warmth of the beach caressed her skin, she felt an urge to bask in its comforting embrace, unlike the bitter chill of England that she had grown accustomed to. "You met the wind? I thought it was an inherited gift," she remarked, a furrow of confusion knitting her brow. "When did this encounter happen?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued as she reached for the drake.


Scanning the surroundings for her mother, a gnawing sensation twisted in her stomach, memories of her mischievous younger self resurfacing. She recalled the time when, as a child, she had tossed a bottle containing a stink bomb, much to her mother's dismay, who then had to apologize to the departing patrons. "I was quite the troublemaker," she sighed, watching her mother diligently clean up the mess while scolding her younger self.


"Libby, clear out the stench, I can't afford to lose this job!" Ameila pleaded.


"Oh, come on, Momma, it was just a joke!" Libby huffed, begrudgingly complying with her mother's instructions and dispersing the foul gas.


"She endured so much from me, only for me to be unable to save her. I was powerless," older Libby lamented, tears welling in her eyes as she glanced towards Artie. The scene shifted, revealing how the townsfolk ostracized Libby, avoiding her until all she had left was her mother. As her mother's death approached, the tears flowed more freely. "I could never be as nurturing a mother as she was. What if I fail to help my own children, as she always tried to help me?"


Brushing away the tears, she watched her mother as she wrote in her journal before concealing it from Libby's prying eyes. Then came the snake, and her mother fell ill. Artie witnessed the heart-wrenching moment when Libelle, in a desperate attempt to save her mother, inadvertently petrified her. "I wish I had known about the diary. I would love to have it, to read her thoughts, to have something of hers," she sniffled, turning to Artie as they reappeared on the beach.


An inherited gift.

If only it was as nice of an experience for her as those words sounded. The thought stirred up deep and thought to be long lost longing. Which had rooted its way into her heart. “Huh.” The heavy expression fell right to the floor as soon as it passed her lips. As she was suddenly adrift among emotions she'd forgotten all about. “No. You can earn The Wind's love and favor. It's not Callous, Bias, or Particular in that regard if you give it the time and heart it's giving you.” She appeared zoned as she spoke. Never focusing on any one thing with a glossed-over look in her jade gaze. 

“But from my experience. It's not common because it's not easy. And the lifestyle is not for everyone.” Her eyes had focused then and seemed less haunted now. But those emotions she’d re-experienced were jarring. And not because she'd not felt them in years but because she'd realized where beings born Gypsy are blessed with something as beautiful as The Wind. A loving family and caravan. A sense of community and comradery. She wasn't born with those same things.

Sure, her biological family loved her. But it was their meaning of the word. There was no warmth in their love. No tenderness or affection. Or even morals based on a human society where wrong and right often had distinct lines to tell them apart. No, she was taught to be violent. Forced to win her family's pride by how bloody, brutal, and ruthless she could be. Taught to kill just for the fun of and all at a tender age where being coddled is what other children received instead. 

“I was… young.” She broke her gaze away from Libelle's to watch the waves gently crash against the shore. Deep in thought to try and recall her age. “but I couldn't give you an age or year anymore. For that girl is no longer me.” She committed that horizon to her memories because where it once was a site of grave turbulence to her now didn't phase her. Not in the same ways. And yet, she still eased the faintest bit when the memory changed. 

At first, she watched from a distance. The faintest bit annoyed at The Wind for taking over when they had come for a different reason. But, her demeanor completely changed as things played out. And so, she realized that despite Libelle's claim to harboring no shame of her past. There was regret, and pain she still grappled with. Artemis frowned at the words of doubt and rose from her seat. She approached with a slow step and lovingly wiped away her aunt's tears. 

“The fact that you're even having these doubts and can express them shows and tells me your doubts hold no truth.” She moved her hands to hold her arms and smiled brightly in the dimly lit pub. “But don't take just my word for it. Listen, and feel The Wind's reassurance.” And as sure as her words The Wind wrapped around Libelle. Further wiping away her remaining tears. Rubbing her belly and embracing her in a warm parental hug. 

Eventually, Artie took Belle's hand in hers. “We should get back on track with why we're here. But I'll find that journal for you when we wake. I'm sure The Wind will guide my path.” There wasn't much time for Libelle to respond just then because with one fell swoop. Or in this case step. They were somewhere neither had been before…


✧ Answers are needed ✧

Time, with its relentless passage, has a way of reshaping us all, molding our lives in ways both unforeseen and profound. Libelle stood at the edge of the world, her gaze lost in the hypnotic ebb and flow of the waves, each crash a reminder of the emotions welling up within her. A soft sniffle broke the silence as she futilely attempted to wipe away her tears with the back of her hand. But it was the unexpected tenderness of a gentle hand that succeeded in brushing away the tears she could not. This kindness was rare, especially in a world where Gypsies and Drakes often faced harsh judgments. It had taken her years to build her reputation as a respected madam, and the early days of her brothel were fraught with challenges and unsavory clients.

As her thoughts drifted, they settled on the life blossoming within her, her hand instinctively coming to rest on her growing belly. A whirlpool of fears and uncertainties swirled within her about the kind of parent she would become, a natural concern given the unconventional life she had led. The mystery of what her child would be—a unique tapestry woven from her Drake lineage, Vega's Gypsy heritage, and Valkyrie blood, and the roll of the dice that they would bare a human child—remained an enigma, a future yet to be discovered.

Her reverie was tenderly interrupted by Artie's touch on her belly, the baby's fluttering movements sparking a broad smile on her lips. It was a moment of pure joy that momentarily lifted the weight of her worries, and she returned Artie's embrace, cherishing the shared heartbeat of connection.

Grasping Artie's hand, as she spoke of the need to refocus and get back on track, though confusion clouded her features. She had assumed that Artie had brought them to this place, yet Artie's mention of finding her mother's journal ignited a flicker of hope deep within Belle's chest. This hope was so profound that it rendered her momentarily speechless, the words she wished to express lost in the wind that wrapped around them, echoing her unspoken thoughts.

As she pressed her eyes closed, the rising nausea threatened to overwhelm her. She concentrated intently on the soothing presence of Artie, trusting her to guide the way. With each breath, she waited patiently for Artie's gentle assurance, anticipating the moment when she would open her eyes and discover what lay ahead, a new chapter waiting to unfold.

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