Raffles & Giveaways

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Pain, that’s all ghouls feel. Blood oozes from gapping sores, bones and joints constantly ache, the nerves always screaming, weariness bearing down. No hatchling should have experience this fate.
A young mirror, her clan forced her into the trails, too young to understand the rituals, unable to hear mother’s cryptic words. A hatchling is the purest to Mother, they say; untainted by the worldly influences, fresh for infections. That was her fate. Given no name as she was forced into the trials she didn’t understand.
There was no surprise for her failure; however, within that clan she was the first to fail. She was happy to see her clanmates, but she was greeted in anger and sharp knives. Chased from the only home she had known until she collapses in pain. The infection takes a toll on a young hatchling, mere hours from the egg. Her instinct to survive burned within her like her perpetual fevers.
She moved on. She only rested when she couldn’t take the pain. She was able to survive the hunting parties and the beasts that were drawn to the smell of her blood from her unhealing wounds.
She stops. Something is in the woods. She crouches down into her self dug shelter, maybe this will just leave her be. She wants to live. Finally something enters the clearing. A lone female with a cloak and mask. She smells like a necromancer. The young mirror trembles in fear as she saw the stranger look at her. The stranger takes off her mask, her face almost void of emotions but her eyes were soft. She slowly walked towards the mirror.
“A poor hatchling should never experience this fate.”
Even her voice was almost void of emotion, but there was an ancient soft aura about it. Her gently hands picked the mirror up and cradled her. The mirror didn’t complain, never had she been treated so kind or cared about. Is this a Mother’s touch? The mirror started to fall asleep, there was a soothing sensation that washed over her as if water was being poured over her and for once she didn’t hurt. Her bones and joints didn’t ache, her sores didn’t sting, and her nerves finally silent as the dark welcoming arms of sleep finally cradled her softly, gently, and most of all like a Mother’s embrace.
She startled awake and noticed that she no longer was ill. Her energy was at an all time high. The stranger was still with herald smiled gently.
"A survivor deserves a warrior’s name.” The hatchling couldn’t believe it! Her own name! She’ll finally have a home!
“Let’s Go home, Heloise.”

—-

It has been months since Lady Thana had cured Heloise when the Elder noticed something peculiar about the young mirror. It seemed that when cured she had been frozen in time. Forever a hatchling? Sometimes, Thana can hear Mother whisper of the mirror’s connection with her. Perhaps, it is Mother’s blessing to Thana to have a hatchling of her own since she became barren during her own trails.