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❝ 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔱❞
⚜
Belle could only remember how cold it was the day she saw war for the very first time. The winter air
was sharp and faintly pine scented as she opened the stained glass windows of her tower room and
drank in the beautiful sight of the lonely snowy mountain. That is when she heard it. The almost inaudible
scream of metal against metal, the shouts of men and wild battle cries. The foreign sound was so distant,
the purple-eyed Hartlicorne thought she imagined it. It roared quietly again, swept up to her on the wings
of winter's wind. Those delicate brows knit together with confusion, apprehension and above all curiosity.
The Licorne castle and enchanted forest were magically protected by the barrier - that ancient, potent
magic woven from the power of every queen that had come before her. No one could cross it, nor break it.
Yet, a whole world of life existed beyond the magic threshold. Belle had simply never seen or heard it before,
except for perhaps a pack of stray wild wolves and the sounds of wild animals. War had come to the princess'
doorstep. Belle moved through the forest, cloak clutched tightly at her throat with hands trembling with quiet
alarm. The barrier will protect me, Belle reassured herself with absolute faith in the ancient enchantment.
I will just get close enough to see what is happening, she thought to herself. The forest was expansive and it
took the young beauty the better part of three hours to cross it at its narrowest point. The sound began to fade
an hour ago and as she approached the wood's end, the primal sounds of battle had become the quieter sounds
of death and injury. A small scale war had been raged just a few leagues from the ancient Licorne lands and
the victors had already left, suffering their own devastating losses. The war had left the pure white snowy
earth soaked with blood, carnage marring the innocent beauty of the mountain lands which had once been
traveled by many for healing, culture, music, art and magic.
The smell hit her first. The doe's tawny little nose twitched and Belle's nose wrinkled. The metallic scent of copper.
Blood. Sweat, desperation, fear. All of it was rank in the air. She pulled to a stop before the barrier's edge. She had
been warned by her mother that some would try to seek their kind, to lure her out and do awful things to her. Belle
was no fool, and yet a trail of spattered crimson caught her eye and inflamed her curiosity. She followed it with her
eyes toward a tree not ten yards away where a figure lie forgotten in the snow. The blood was heavy and smeared.
He had dragged himself away from the battle, mortally wounded if the amount of blood loss was any indication.
Something inside of the princess stirred. Something was calling to her. After a long, hesitant moment she crossed
the barrier. The snow was so cold and biting Belle gasped. A weight fell over her shoulders. It was like falling from
heaven, and the long-haired angel looked startled by it. Everything was different on this side of the barrier.
She hurried toward the wounded soldier when a groan pierced the air. He was alive!
Belle ran toward him, not knowing why. Magic was pulling at her. But it was her own magic, calling, calling
her to answer that deathly groan of agony. The snow was treacherous. The forest didn't seek to protect her out here,
and she fell hard on her knees in front of the warrior, ankle catching on a gnarled root. The purple-eyed blonde's
breath escaped her in soft white puffs as she panted. Ice stung her palms as she moved closer. For several long
moments, Belle sat with her hands on her thighs, simply staring at the male before her. He had the claws and teeth
of a predator, a natural threat to the soft, trembling prey creature that she was. His eyes were closed, face etched
with pain, body quaking as tremors shook him. He looked surprisingly young in his pain, and Belle reached out with
shaking fingers to smooth a lock of winter white hair away from his sweaty brow. He is dying. You can do something...
the magic - her magic - whispered to her. In that moment, the soldier's eyes opened and he beheld her, like she was
some lovely and bewitching, ephemeral spirit. There was blood between his teeth and trickling down his lip when he
grinned up at her.
"So, I've died is that it? I did not think my spirit would go to a place where a beauty like you lived," he shook
uncontrollably and blood spilled from the hand he'd clamped over his wound. Belle's brows drew tight and when he
extended a bloodstained hand toward her, for some reason she took it. His swallowed hers and was calloused from
years of practice with a blade, yet now clung to the doe's small hand as weakly as a babe.
"If I had known I'd be rewarded like this, I might have died sooner," he grimaced as another wave of pain wracked
him, "Damn, those mercenary bastards didn't pay me enough for this." Belle frowned down at him and tilted her head,
sending a lock of that honey gold hair falling over his chest. He thought he was already dead? Her voice cracked from disuse
when she spoke, yet was soft like a violin's note.
"Y-You are not dead," she said, but knew he would be soon unless she did something. But what, she didn't know.
Her magic was clawing at her to do something.
"I must be. There aren't females like you in the real world." He coughed and blood spattered his lips. His sword lie
broken in the snow at his side. His grin was weaker this time, "Though if I am dying, and a comely female is holding my
hand, well, there are worse ways to go." His grip weakened and Belle could almost see the invisible force of his spirit,
tugging away from his body. He was dying. Dying. Dying. Right now, he was dying in front of her. Fear welled up and
broke over her. She pressed her hand into his, and with the other peeled away his hand from his wound. The princess knew
it was a mortal wound. It was only a miracle he hadn't died sooner. He was strong, but he was dying and would soon be
nothing but a corpse - no longer a bold and sharp-tongued soldier who grinned with blood in his teeth, and thought she
was an angelic spirit. The warrior's hand went limp in hers. "No, no, no, no!" Belle's voice was panicked. Her hands
fluttered over him, searching for something to do.
"No, it is not right. It is not time for you to die yet. Stay with me." Her heart was racing and her magic was like a
crescendo rising in her, a symphony of power with no outlet. This moment was pivotal. Belle knew she had to heal
this warrior, and something important would be lost forever if she didn't. Fate worked tirelessly at the loom weaving an
intricate tapestry, and it all depended upon this thread. A deathly sigh escaped his lips, and Belle grabbed his shoulders,
shaking him. "No, no, wake up, tell me what to do to save you!" She was trembling all over, the cold biting cruelly
at her. The magic welling inside of her was almost painful. He had stopped moving. Stopped breathing. She put her head
to his chest and heard...nothing. "No!" she cried, and tears spilled from those royal purple eyes. The years of loss
had taken their toll on Belle. Her people, her kingdom, her entire race, and most of all her mother. She had lost too much.
It was too much. Somehow, this stranger represented all of that pain. She did not know him, but she did not want to sit
there and let death take yet another person from her. Yet another loss to bear... Just one more life snuffed out that
she was powerless to stop. Years of pain and guilt elicited a sob from the girl's lips.
She lowered her head, and her horn brushed his brow, a crystal tear filled with a rainbow of color slipped down her cheek
and landed on his. "Not again," she pleaded, "I need to save someone, something. Please, do not die." Warmth
rippled through her, flowing from her. She felt the wave of all that magic spilling out...through her horn. Belle's eyes
opened and she stared in disbelief as a soft glow reflected over his face where her horn touched his brow. The magic poured
from her wildly, leaving her physically weak, hand braced against his chest as it robbed her of breath. He drew a ragged
breath and his whole chest shook. His eyes opened and hand tightened on her own so hard she thought he would break
the delicate bones of her wrist.
"Seven hells!" he cursed, jerking from the shock of being pulled back from the brink of death. Belle had gone pale,
and the sparkling magic glow of her horn was fading by the moment. Unpracticed. The girl had given too much. Had no control
over her magic, and was now hemorrhaging from having poured everything she had into healing him. Healing magic, she
thought, her body growing cold. It was healing magic that called to her. Her power...
"Beauty, oy, beauty come on, I can't let you die now that you've healed some curr like me," Belle fell against his chest,
limp as he scooped her up against him, trying to revive her. Her lashes fluttered, eyes unfocused and body so cold. The female's
lips, once rosy were pale white as her body fought the shock of using truly powerful magic for the first time. The lynx soldier had
never felt better in all his life. His wound was healed and already a thick pink scar had formed. He didn't know this girl, and she
didn't know him, but for some reason she'd brought him back from the edge of death. He couldn't repay her by letting her die
like this. It wasn't right, and Emmerich wasn't the type of man who often thought about morals.
But this wasn't right, and he knew it.
"I'll save you, princess," he said, not knowing the truth of his pet name for his unlikely savior, "I owe you a life debt."
He got to his feet and lifted her easily in his arms, searching for what he needed. A cave. A fire to keep her warm.
"I owe you a life debt..." his silvery eyes hardened, "And I always repay my debts."
⚜
Art by: vertry :: Writing by: Belletrist :: Featuring wonderfully generous: wendigoteeth
COMMENTS HELP ENCOURAGE ME TO WRITE ♡
✧ THANK YOU FOR VISITING MY PAGE. PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY CHARACTER, BACKSTORY,
SPECIES, MY WRITING, MY CODING OR MY PAGE CONCEPT. DO NOT REUPLOAD ANY ART. DO
NOT RP WITH BELLE. DO NOT USE MY ICONS. AS A WRITER AND GRAPHIC ARTIST TAKING MY
IDEAS OR CODING AND USING THEM IN YOUR PROFILE OR CHARACTER IS ART THEFT. THIS IS
MY ART. IT IS UNIQUE. DON'T TAKE OR USE IT. IT IS NOT FLATTERING. BE YOURSELF. NOT ME.
IMITATION IS -NOT- A FORM OF FLATTERY. PLEASE DO NOT IMITATE ME. COMMENTS ARE ♡
Category All / All
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File Size 198.2 kB
Oh!! Another piece of art who's story I'd wondered about <3 The guilt and turmoil that Belle feels in relation to the tragedy that took her people is a powerful motivator, but she doesn't have any outlets for it, does she? And here comes a perfect channel for all her pain and power~ It's very touching that she's so moved to use it benevolently. Then again, I'm not sure there's a mean bone in her body. She practically sweats compassion! Thank you for another lovely installment <3
HOW did you slip this past me?!
Sometimes, when you write for Belle, it is just so INTENSE
to read. Like, you do an incredible job of making us feel what
she feels, and living through all of that pain and sadness and
hope. And just the raw desperation you manage to evoke, I
can never look at the accompanying art quite the same way
after I've read the story you write for it.
Sometimes, when you write for Belle, it is just so INTENSE
to read. Like, you do an incredible job of making us feel what
she feels, and living through all of that pain and sadness and
hope. And just the raw desperation you manage to evoke, I
can never look at the accompanying art quite the same way
after I've read the story you write for it.
Your stories are always so lovely yet powerful. I remember the first time I've read this. My heart was pounding with excitement, and I was so eager to read every single word. I still get the same feeling everytime I read it over and over. Someday, I wish to write a story as enthralling as yours. Someday.. <3
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