“And yet it is the ever-changing state of both water and nature is what keeps your body alive,” she growled simply, “If water had any loyalty to one form, do you really think it would be so easy to fill your stomach with it? Can you eat a solid block of ice and gain water from it if it remains such a state? Nature has no loyalties; not with you, or me, in any form I take. The only constant is change.”
Ammy finished triumphantly, her eyes flashing golden for a moment as her inner wolf threatened to take over. This man was like the ones from her homeland; everything had to be loyal, belonging to someone or some idea, otherwise it was dangerous, unpredictable and had to be eradicated. Ammy curled her lip, her little canines showing. Ignorance was the true killer of men, not magic or shifters. Those that had lost their lives to such things deserved their fate. More often than not it was they who started the battle; the shifters were only trying to protect themselves from harm. All animals attack when cornered, she thought to herself as she lay back on the grass and gave a pitying smile in Skye’s direction. These clothes belonged to Skye and Ammy saw that Skye’s were already mud covered from helping her in moose form. At least Ammy had managed to keep the loaned dress away from the mud; it rested so high on her body. She would give it back. Once she remembered where exactly she had placed her own clothes the last time she had changed. Quietly she closed her eyes and put her head in her hands. The sun struck across her face, giving her silver hair an almost white appearance, as she rose her head up higher remembering the last time she had lived in a day so warm.
FLASHBACK
Ammy dashed past the trees, her blonde-white hair streaking out behind her six-year-old-self as she ran, her lips pulled back into a joyous smile. She could hear the shouts of the person who was giving chase far behind and she took the opportunity to slow, twisting her head back to look for him amongst the aspens. Seeing no sign and hearing nothing, she came to a stop. Her blue eyes, much like glacier ice, widened as she scanned the foliage. It was fall, the soft red and orange of the trees casting a colorful glow as they slowly threw themselves from the tree only to flutter joyously around in the winds.
“Azian?”
The snow-elf was nowhere to be seen, his dark hair and rich clothing having seemed to disappear into the woods that were his home. Curiously she turned her head taking a few steps in one direction before switching to a different direction. She turned on the spot, trying to catch even the slightest of glimpses of Azian.
“Come out! This is tag, not hide-and-go-seek,” she called with a giggle, her face towards the warmth of the sun as she bathed in its waves. She wasn’t worried; this wasn’t the first time he had pulled a stunt like this; until she heard the snap of a branch, followed by a growl. Her head turned, her body slowly backing away carefully as she lifted her skirt slightly.
“Okay, you can stop it now,” she called, twisting as another branch broke behind her. She twirled, only to get pushed from behind, her body lurching forward with a scream. Laughter rose from behind her and she turned, seeing Azian behind her. Her lips pulled back in a snarl as she launched herself at him. He fell back against the leaves with a sharp gasp, her arm pressed into his throat as his eyes smiled.
“Don’t! Do! That!” she growled, watching as his brown eyes glinted.
“Tell me you didn’t enjoy it in the least bit,” he smirked, his eyes flashing as she smiled. It was hard to stay mad at him. She took a deep breath, her eyes closing as she smelled the earth, the sky and even the tangy, piney smell of the man under her, “Get off of me Ammy!”
“Whoops,” she laughed as Azian pushed against her hips, slowly moving her to the ground next to him as they watched the clouds. Her eyes remained closed for the most part, and his remained fixated on her face.
They stayed like that for awhile, until the stars rose and the moon lay hidden behind a dark veil. Occasionally, the stars would fall from the sky and he would watch as her lips moved quietly, just a little twitch of breath every-now-and-then, her bright blue eyes tracing the fall until it vanished. His fingers twined with hers and she took her eyes off the sky to look into his. Her lips pulled into the smile again, returning her gaze back to the sky as he slowly rose. She listened to him move and shuffle around on the earth. Their heads touched their hair mingling together as he lay against her, his feet the opposite way from hers.
“What do you see?”
“Hmm,” she murmured, not taking her eyes off the sky as more stars fell.
“What do you see up there that holds you so captive, Ammy?”
“My mother told me that every star is a life, when they fall, that means that someone is entering the world. But each star has its own story behind it too,” carefully she pointed to a clump of stars, eyes shining brightly, “There. That’s where I came from. It’s a bull. If you look closely, all the stars from the outline of my creature.”
Azian smiled gently. Slowly he nodded, agreeing with her as one by one she enlightened him to which stars belonged to which animal. Slowly, even he could begin to see a pattern in the stars above. He rolled, bending over her to plant a kiss on her cheek as she stared up, blushing.
RETURN
That had been the good times, back when she was still welcomed with open arms in her village, being loved by everyone as Ammy, the Innocent. Six-year-old Ammy was happy, alive, surrounded by the rest of the village kids. She was the ringleader in all schemes and adventures, which was until the next year. She was seven when she found herself walking through the forest by herself one day. It was one of aspen and pine. The colors flashed gold, red and green in the light. It was cool and the threat of winter was nipping at her nose and cheeks but at that time Ammy had no problem with the cold, in fact she enjoyed it. As she walked she came across a split in the path and decided to head for the one that split from it. As she walked on it she was careful never to tread on a living thing, animal or plant. Soon she could hear it. The sound of water falling from the cliff that towered above the whole forest below called her onwards. Soon she arrived at the falls, the water falling blue and white in a clear cascade down into a pool that was also clear. Ammy could see the bottom of the pool, filled with the white stones that had created the path. Now they were also at the bottom of the pool and at the center, the stones that were rare on the path, the black ones were in abundance. The water sang and beckoned to her so she took of her shirt and pants before stepping into the cool water. As she waded toward the center, she suddenly began to feel a sharp pain, a pain that still caused her now to grimace. It was the forbidden spring, but it hadn’t seemed so bad back then. That water had given rise to her true nature; it had not caused it, but brought it forth out into the open. Ammy the Innocent died that day, and Ammy the Feared had been born. What was feared, was hunted, and if they were lucky, killed on the spot. Ammy had not been so lucky.
FLASHBACK
Her white dress billowed around her legs, making the colorless threads shooting through the black marble stand out. Her blonde hair fell around her shoulders, arranged so that it covered her breasts. Her eyes were closed. The low lighting in the room made the blood dripping from her fingers appear like black water, falling like diamonds from the tips. The cut right under her arm released the precious tears, the horrible jagged thing attesting to the pain she had endured. Her hands hug over the edge of the marble, her pale skin being mirrored by the puddle of blood shining on the cold grey stone. Her chest rose and fell with invisible breaths and a single tear shimmered on her cheek.
The barred door creaked open as her captors entered. Ammy kept her eyes closed, her heart beat as slow as her almost nonexistent breath. They walked over to her, their eyes glimmering black as they used their ability to keep her body bound tightly to the cold marble, slipping back to allow another to enter. Finally the last person entered decorated richly in a cloak of deep purple, a signature of royalty. He brushed the silver grey hair back from his icy eyes, looking over her body with a nod of approval. His healers had done well, not a scar remained except for the slice under her arm, right near the large artery running along the length of it. He remembered with sick pleasure how she had wept as the steal had cut through her, burning with the special powder that his assistant had given him. She hadn’t told them anything, holding true to her stupid Shifter laws. This time though, she would talk.
He rolled up his sleeves, nodding to the two men who had faded into the back of the room. They stepped forward, their eyes becoming normal colors and they began to arrange her in a position to better the pain that would be coming. Her eyes flashed open and she attacked, throwing her fist out to catch one of the extras under his jaw and sending him reeling back, the snapped rope still wrapped around her wrist. Her blood spattered the wall as she moved, quickly making the two binders useless on the floor. Their blood flowed from their lips and nose, their eyes closed in unconsciousness. She turned to her captor, his eyes narrowing.
“What do you want from me,” she growled her body tensing. He stepped to the door, pressing his back against it and signaling the man behind him. She received no answer, only the icy stare of the man who she didn’t recognize, had no knowledge of.
“Sleep,” came the soft voice of a different man, stepping form the shadows, his cloak as red as blood. As she started to fall, he swept forward, catching her in his arms and laying her gently on the table. He arranged her as best he could, clapping her hands in the chains that hung from the table instead of the useless rope.
“Thank you Kirsten,” the old man said, steeping forward and kicking the two men that lay on the dirty floor. “So, Wolf….”
“I’m not a Wolf,” she snapped taking her eyes off of Kirsten’s. She heard the slap as her head snapped wildly to the left before she felt the singing pain across her cheek. She had bit her lip, splitting it and already blood was oozing forth from the bite. She ran her tongue over the cut, tasting the salty blood and growling. Kirsten began to get anxious, his hand gently caressing her cheek which still stung like fire from the abuse it had just received. Ammy could tell that it wasn’t Kirsten who had slapped her but the man who was pulling his sleeve back up over his elbow. Her eyes flickered and hatred burned in her soul, making her stronger. She wouldn’t tell them anything, nothing about herself or the shifters. They were her family and she would remain bound to those laws even till her dying breath had escaped her lips. Her eyes flashed silver and then faded, her jaw squaring and becoming tighter as she locked it, thinking only of her familiars.
“Come now,” he said gently, laughter glimmering in his eyes, “You just have to lead us right to them in their woods and you’ll be free.”
She opened her mouth to say something, whisper it so low that only he would be able to hear but as she opened her mouth to speak there was the sharp pain of skin ripping and the horrible smell of flesh burning. Words turned into screams as the pain finally hit her, her body withering as it tried to escape whatever was doing this to her.
“Talk,” the Lord purred, pushing the heated blade further up into her skin, his eyes narrowing as the only thing that came forth from her was tears, but they didn’t fall. “Very well, you will talk before this is over.”
He pushed the blade up to its hilt, twisting it violently inside of her as she arched her back, keeping her jaw locked but screaming none-the-less. She didn’t tell nor say anything but kept her mouth void of words as they continued to torture her; steal cutting and burning, fire pushed inside of her and white hot iron all took a shot to loosen her tongue but nothing but her screams filled the chamber.
REALITY
Time had caused her to whimper, the harshness of the memory giving her a reason for why she had left. She had left to escape unjustness, to escape ignorance in man, to be free. Her eyes opened and looked upright as she watched the dragon sear fire over an open wound, the smell of singed hair and skin reached her nose as she looked back to her hands.
“My name is Ammy.”