Travest Svana Bluestar

[Avelent]

((What follows will be a series of random writings, details, poetry, and what nots from the life of Travesty Svana Bluestar))

[Avelent]

It was sometime during the first ten days of Tarsakh that he went missing. He was an individual of little happenstance, a nobody and a man of few friends, but then again, friends were hard to find in Llorkh and even harder still a lover. Though I suppose it's more accurate to say that he wasn't actually missing because she knew where he was. Oh, she knew a lot of things. For example, she knew that he visited Elizabeth Copperfield's home every second day of every ten day for the past two months. She also knew that he kept a spare key to his house under a loose brick hidden beneath a large clay-potted plant just a few feet from his front door. She had always liked that potted plant. On warmer nights during the month of Alturiak, they would stand outside his door and talk for hours about anything and everything--just the two of them and that peculiar plant. He had told her that it was a fig tree. She had never tasted a fig before, and he assured her that the first ripe fig of Eleasis would be hers. She was more than willing to wait, but after learning of his more recent visits to Elizabeth’s, she knew that Eleasis would never come. And so it was that sometime during the first ten days of Tarsakh that he went missing . . .

It was a cloudy, overcast day and a gentle breeze blew softly though the streets of Llorkh. Travesty peered up at the last few fleeting rays of sunlight as they shot out across the evening sky. She paused for but a moment to admire the scenery before gripping the handles of a wheelbarrow once more as she made her way down the streets of Llorkh. A few passers-by stopped to glance down at the wheelbarrow's contents, but paid it no attention--it seemed perfectly normal for someone to have a few clay pots and a shovel in a wheelbarrow. One pot was filled with water, another dirt, and the third and largest held a fig tree, which was a completely ordinary sight. She walked until she had made the long journey up to and out of the city gates, and all the way to a secluded spot in the woods. If there were any on-lookers they might have thought this a good spot to plant a fig tree; however, as skilled as she was with a shovel she was no gardener . . . Reaching into the wheelbarrow and gripping something unseen, she hefted a rather large and heavy object that must have gone unnoticed before. As she wrapped her arms around it and lifted it from the wheelbarrow, it shimmered and phased in and out of visibility as its spell of concealment waned. It was the corpse of a man. The corpse had been invisible as it lay undisturbed on top of the clay pots in the wheelbarrow, but was now in plain sight.

She roughly dropped the body on the ground and quickly went to work. Reaching into her pocket, she produced a black onyx gem and forcefully stuffed it into the corpse's mouth. Next, she dug a shallow grave and kicked the body into it. Once the body was inside the rut she emptied the contents of two of the clay pots onto the corpse, grave soil and brackish water. Than she buried the body. The fig tree she left in the pot and placed next to the grave.


“This unmarked grave I dedicate to those consumed by my deadly hate, and this poem I’m about to recite was inked in the blood of those I killed last night.

Their lifeless bodies lay in a shallow tomb, newlyweds to death, their unholy groom. I pronounced them man and wife and sealed the kiss with the stab of a knife.

Now the brides scream while chained to a wall. The first night of their honeymoon left them crying for forgiveness as the whip began to fall.

Their punishment for infidelity? An unrebukeable sentence in hell for all eternity.

It shouldn’t have ended this way; they used to be so beautiful and lovely. But then they made the decision not to love me.”

A ghoulish hand shot out of the dirt as Travesty concluded her poem. It was the very same hand she often held as she giddily walked down the streets of Llorkh just a few months prior . . .

[Avelent]