Legends of Belariath

Sarayna

Her journey into the world away from her sister nymphs was a trying and difficult one. Innocent of emotions with malicious intent, she was an easy victim to many who dwelled in Nanthalion. It was her misfortune to capture the attention of a particularly vicious citizen. A catman who was as evil as they come, without mercy, without compassion and cared for nothing other than his own sadistic pleasure. Lethtal Nethalm.

She was an easy conquest for him. He delighted in tormenting her, abusing her, inflicting upon her that which satisfied his most wicked needs. It was soon after his first taste of her that he took away that which she, a sylph, treasured most. Her freedom. Now enslaved to him, she was at his mercy by the law of the land. She had no voice, no rights, no individuality. Her existance was based solely on his.

However, over the weeks and months, something within her changed. Under his constant efforts to mold her, she was molded. What she once resisted, fought, loathed, and hated, was slowly becoming that which she accepted, wanted, longed for and loved. She lived to please him. Any attention from him was an honor that she worked very hard to garner. His touch whether painful, or not, was a gift. And she endured with the willingness of her whole mind, body, heart and soul. Silent even when near death, by -his- hands, she accepted all that he would do to her. Loving him all the while. Worshipping him.

There was something within him that she sensed, but could never understand, or name. A need him him that called out to her. For there were moments, so very rare, when he cherished her. When she was the only thing that existed to him. So, though he was wicked, evil, dark, unmerciful, cruel and sadistic.. there was something about him that made her ache to be his victim. To be the one that satisfied his dark needs. Because, if she were lucky, she would get one instantaneous moment where -he- belonged to her.

For almost two years she was in his life. She was his first slave. And she remained his through other slaves that he would eventually release. The one constant he had. Then, one day, he was gone. With nary a word. She was lost. For he was her constant. Her sun. Her moon. There was no day, no night, without him. Only pain. Lonliness. This new world she lived in, where she was little more than a ghost on the earthly plane, was agonizing. Frightening. But, she waited. Days. Weeks. Months. Finally, heartbreakngly, after a year had passed, she realized that he was not coming back. She had fallen from grace. His grace. Crushed, she felt that she was no longer worthy to wear the collar around her neck so, after almost three years with his name encircling her throat, she sought her freedom.

Pathetic creature that she had become, she wandered aimlessly about the land. The sylph rarely taking to the air. She made her way to the Inn that Lethtal used to frequent and she with him. Hoping. Only to be destroyed each time by his continued absence. The land they shared was no longer sanctuary, the treehouse only a reminder of what was no longer. Empty without him. Like she was. The Inn was slowly becoming her place of solace. Where she could remember what was, what should be and what could have been. Then, once again, she captured the attention of a patron. A magi. Who saw in her the potential to be so much more than she could have dreamed. For, at that moment he saw her, he dreamed it -for- her.

And now, a new journey for Sarayna begins. With a different teacher, mentor.. friend. Tryst.

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