Categories > Cartoons > Class of the Titans > The Cold Side of Heart
Love of the Cursed, Part One: The Cursed...
5 reviewsWe all know the story of the seven heroes. But what about what happened before them? The story threat that was so powerful that it was ripped from our memories. Well, this is what happened. It will...
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Author's Note: My birthday is on the seventeenth! And the eighteenth is the official day that I joined fanfiction, and wrote my first chapter of Awake in a Dream! Woot! So I decided to try to update this story before I got too carried away, yes I do have many others to do as well, but I can't seem to find my muse amongst all these ideas in my head. Tsk. Either way I DID update, so here is the result of my ranting. I am not a mythology wiz, so I do not know the chronological order of heroes, as of such I will not be giving a date for these events. Just assume that it happened about two generations after Jason. Be prepared to be captured into Nuuoa's view on parts of Greek Mythology, so it will be warped. I don't want any critic because of my inaccuracy. I'm trying to give you a whole view at Thisbe and Jyros's story. Bear with me. Best wishes... and cake!
This story will be divided into three parts, originally two, but it is too long! Sorry. Happy and sad can't always be together. P.S. Thisbe will remind you of Theresa a bit. But better! Because she is mine! Look out for insights and foreshadowing into later chapters. Mentions of Terabetta, etc. Remember, it's up to you to decide if Theresa is Terabetta reborn. Or someone else. But for now it's about the past.
P.P.S. The titles of the three parts blend into each other, so the words 'The Monster's...' moves into something else. I'm just guessing, but I think it has something to do with love and death. Cough. End of long note. -Nuuoa Eclaire
Disclaimer: I do not own Class of the Titans, but I own all my own writings, story, Aredith and the modified legend of Thisbe.
Pairings: Thisbe/Jyros
Warnings: No actual Class of the Titans characters, besides mention of the gods, this happened in the times of ancient Greece, after Jason and some other main heroes.
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The Cold Side of Heart
Chapter 9: Love of the Cursed, Part One: The Cursed...
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She was a puzzle. A tool used and yelled at, plotted by people who needed to put her pieces wherever they pleased. Then getting fed up and throwing her away in a corner. Because she could never be completed. There was always one piece missing.
And she had no idea what it was.
What was love?
It was stupid. Truly a misgiving or result of the heat that seemed to emanate from the Greek countryside. She was not supposed to be thinking thoughts like these. But for that one blissful moment of reading through the old book, she found herself to long for something beyond the high walls that had surrounded her for generations. Beyond generations.
From the very first moment Pyramus had peered through the walls crack at Thisbe, her ancestor, with those great love-struck eyes.
She was cursed.
It was simple. She couldn't love. Pyramus and Thisbe had loved a love scorned by the gods, and they had paid the price. But it wasn't enough to kill them. They just had to kill her, too.
"... And their blood mixed to flesh, and from that flesh sprang a newborn babe. A girl-child. But the gods did not approve, and they cursed her and her generations. Forevermore, all offspring of Thisbe and Pyramus would be female. And forevermore would they be named: Thisbe.
But they could never love again, because if they did, it would be the death of their loved. And then themselves soon after..."
She was the offspring. One of many. Her mom was the offspring as well. But now only she remained. Torn from the only woman who could've ever loved her in this life. This monster.
'I cannot love.'
Suddenly a loud boomed rang around the marble room. The silk hangings and ivory wall decor shook on the walls. Thisbe threw her book under her pillow, and pulled herself into the proper pose. Non-threat. Hands behind back. She had every step memorized. What else did she have time for, locked up behind the vine covered walls of home. Not that she would be allowed to do anything outside after she uttered her name.
Her house tenant, Agnes, stood before her in all her stout glory. Fussing with her mousy brown hair, Agnes tried to turn away from Thisbe's meek gaze. She didn't want to be there when her eyes glowed. That soul-piercing turquoise. Supposedly a new part of the curse. Or something like that.
"Why are you here, Agnes?" Thisbe knew her humbled question, even to an old housekeeper, was unwelcome.
Her father's brother had taken her in at birth, after her father's death at war, and her mom's in childbirth. But of course, this was only family duty. And duty for their country, and the gods. If they kept her from ever roaming the land, then she could do no harm, or fall in love. And being the last line to Thisbe and Pyramus, the heritage would die off forever. No more curse. No more her.
"No questions!" Agnes kept her slumped back to Thisbe, making sure to dust the room briefly. The witch knew her name. The curse had no specifics. No one knew if the curse would kill someone Thisbe loved as a mother, friend, but they knew it would kill her lover.
"Okay," Thisbe pulled at her amethyst teardrop earrings, the only gift she had ever received. She could barely feel the skeptical maid admire her from a far. She didn't hear the thoughts of, 'If her curse didn't scare people away, it would be her unmortal beauty.' These thoughts were cut off by her inquisitive voice. It rung like the breeze, and sent shivers down Agnes spine.
"Could you maybe, stay?"
A woman of seventeen should not have to sound like a wounded child, 'But she is barely human!' Agnes tried to remind herself. Thisbe heard this thought, and shuddered against the harshness, compared to the shriveled older woman.
Sometimes Thisbe heard people's thoughts, but not only that. Her eyes glowed. Turquoise, like the seawaters. And sometimes, just sometimes, she could even move objects. If this was a part of her curse, it was new. And evil. Only clairvoyants, and the gods could do what she could. And clairvoyants were rare, and pure. Not a seed of Hades like herself. Thisbe only knew this from books. So what could she do?
"No! Now I must leave, child! You delay me while the master and his family are gone to market."
"Why are they... Oops," she grimaced while a fire burned inside her. Why couldn't she be accepted?
"No questions."
Agnes let her wrinkled and sun worn skin crinkle around her brown eyes as she studied her master's prisoner.
"Did you not know? Well, I suppose you couldn't have. A great hero is comin'. Said to be the next great Jason! I suppose you know who he is by all those books you been readin'." She shook her haggard head in disapproval. Thisbe let her emotion ripple beyond a void.
"What?" Thisbe asked in interest, the mock not affecting her. She was eager to learn. Finally something happening in this town she would learn about.
"Now don't go getting no ideas, but..." Agnes couldn't help but wink at the over-eager young woman before her. In all her time working in the mansion, she had never known what a strangely beautiful girl Thisbe was. And she felt nothing but pity. Still fear. And a faked wink.
"He's sure the looker."
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Green-blue eyes wide with wonder, Thisbe pulled her uncle's old cloak further over her head. She didn't look like a commoner, rather like a middle class woman on her way with the other's to meet this... hero. Moving in great happiness amongst the hustle of the people around her, Thisbe made sure to absorb every minute. If her uncle caught her outside the walls... Thisbe shivered in the heat and warm sun. She didn't want to think of the beating she'd get. She had heard her uncle's wife talk about killing her, to get the curse over with.
She vaguely felt the eyes of a hungry men travel her body on her journey down Market Street. The noonday sun was high in the sky, blazing white light over the rural green countryside. The hills seemed to be even more gigantic then from her window.
The vendors were in frenzy, coming in from all these faraway lands she had only read about. The rich aromas of fish and ambrosia wafted into her slender nostrils. The sounds of playing children, and deals never sounded so wonderful. Even if she almost went deaf from never hearing it before. Greece was beautiful, this town was alive, and the world seemed brighter. Better. No one knew who she was.
Then it hit her, she was really outside. In the small town of Valora, Greece. Thisbe had done it. She was free.
Her large eyes suddenly were begging to cry, so she pulled at her concealed white wrapped dress and teal sash to calm herself down. She had a few cuts and bruises, but she had climbed over the sun-cracked wall, using the crunchy vines for a grip. And she had taken one step closer to finding that missing piece. She would!
And if it hadn't been for that the next event, she would've forgotten about the stupid war hero and run off to find her destiny and explore everything she had read about. To a place where they didn't know her name. And she would be named, Lysandra, meaning: One who is freed.
But the event did take place, and it would change this young woman's life forever. It would change the lives of everyone in all of Greece, and it would change the life of the gods. It would shape history itself soo much that it would be forgotten. Because it was in that moment that the young handsome war hero came down the street she was musing in. And it was in that moment that his horse went berserk. And he looked at her.
Thisbe barely noticed his dazed eye-bulge at the gorgeous woman that seemed to glow away from the crowd of traders and townsfolk. But she did see him.
He appeared to be about eighteen, or nineteen; she could barely see him through the veil of hustling citizens. He had olive-toned skin, like a normal Greek's, unlike her paler complexion... due to the fact she had been kept from the sun nearly her whole life. His hair was a dark golden brown, just like his quizzical deep-set eyes. He had a longer nose, but it worked on him, and each of his features and muscles, were perfectly chiseled.
Though Thisbe had never really seen many men, she immediately knew he was as strong and noble as he was handsome. And he seemed to have a serious kindness to him. And though she had never seen many men, she knew that he was the best she would ever see. And her heart fluttered out into her throat.
Hera-the strange man's grand warhorse-danced impatiently over the dusty hot ground. The bay's nostrils flared outwards as her master's standout's smell hit her. Lavender and juniper... and magic. A force gripped her senses, and a powerful womanly voice rung inside her head. 'Kill her!' The dance became a tornado.
Thisbe barely heard the loud neigh as the hero's horse flew forward in frenzy. People all around her began to scream and run away in shambles. Thisbe noticed the horse with dilated pupils and frothing mouth. She tried to scream for help, but she forgot how... and then she felt a calm wrap its arms around her. A single phrase left her mouth before the sturdy frame of the horse's owner pushed her from the death path.
"Aellaqui Stuna Leima."
Thisbe hit the ground hard, and her arm broke from underneath her bosom. She let stifled gasp escape her full rosy lips.
"Are you okay?" In her almost unconscious daze, Thisbe forgot where she was and thought him to be a god himself. His voice was deep and rich, and like a craving, she couldn't get enough.
"I think I may have hurt my arm." Thisbe tried to see his tanned visage again. He could see hers.
"Let's find you a healer around here... What's your name?" She felt his question hang in the air. His dark eyes frowned at her.
'What should I say... can I lie to him? Will my family be here to see me soon? I need to get out of-'
"I am a healer!" A woman called from the now reproaching crowd, composed of girls flaunting their diminished beauty in front of Jyros. Around Thisbe even the fairest looked like hags.
Thisbe sighed in true relief; she had avoided the question for now. The woman who claimed to be a healer looked at her with large magical violet eyes. But she couldn't contemplate that thought, because the stab of pain her arm produced made the images slowly blur before her. The last angelic words she heard were: "My name is Jyros."
And what a beautiful name it was.
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It was late afternoon when she awoke; all she could feel was the diminishing pain in her arm. No wrap or anything. It shocked Thisbe only for a moment, because a pair of vibrant violet eyes were studying her thoughtfully.
Thisbe yelped in shock and fell over clumsily into the flap of herbs that was off to the side of the small worn beige tent. The woman in front of her laughed heartily. She was about no more than a decade older, Thisbe assumed. Her face was tanned, and sweet, with a broad nose and forehead, framing around large lavender eyes, and framed by black locks. Thisbe had never seen anything like her. This short woman was the most bizarre creature she had ever seen, despite herself. And that wasn't saying much, as she had only really seen one hour's worth of people in her life.
"Who're you?" Thisbe tried to ask haughty, even though she was the one who'd been surprised. A chunk of cooper fire hair had fallen in front of her face.
"Why, I am Acacia. The healer of this village, and fellow clairvoyant."
"Clairvoyant!" Thisbe declared in awed shock. 'Wait... 'fellow' clairvoyant?' She wasn't...
"I'm not a clairvoyant... I'm just a-a- mistake..." Thisbe fought the salt build up in her eyes.
"You are not a mistake, Thisbe Theodoropalis, the gods put you here for a reason. Despite your curse."
Thisbe's eyes flew open in irritated shock.
"How did you know my name?" She quivered into the corner of the tent, trying to find a gap in the side lining. The smell of grasses made her want to vomit.
"I'm a clairvoyant like you. I know these things." Acacia let a sigh drop from her mouth from her wide mouth, and continued.
"Don't you hear other people's thoughts? Wonder why you can do things others can't? Let me explain something to you," Acacia gently folded her bony hands in her lap, "Clairvoyants can are born with a power-source. There are three. The soul, brain, and heart. The soul's power is set in stone and unbendable, unless you steal power from someone else. The brain's power is only as wide as you think it can be. And the heart, is as great as your love. And love is the most powerful thing on earth."
'Love is the most power-' Thisbe let her thoughts settle; this was all too much.
"Continue," Thisbe pleaded with her shaking hands. Still squinting into the limpid purple eyes that watched her.
"Each clairvoyant has power words that go along with their source. The most powerful ever read about were the very words you just whispered.... Aellaqui Stuna Leima. So powerful... it is unbearable." Acacia shivered in the heat around them.
All Thisbe could do was nod and try to understand so many questions floated in her head. She couldn't grasp everything that was happening... she didn't understand why something good could happen to her.
"I want to teach you. Your questions will be answered then, come to me tomorrow before sundown. You will have your lessons at that time."
Thisbe opened her mouth to protest, and explain her curse further. To stay away from her. To just show her that she wasn't worthy, strong, or a clairvoyant. Acacia stopped her again with a single smile.
"Tomorrow. Now go back to that young hero, and be happy."
'Be happy.' For once she truly was.
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"Are you all right?" Jyros's sweet voice was the first thing that greeted her as Thisbe left the tent flap in a better mood then she could've imagined. She wasn't a monster. She had great powers, to help others.
"I've never been better!" She smiled so brightly; Jyros was momentarily in a coma.
Jyros smiled right back at her, and she felt some weird stomach virus take over her. They talked for what seemed to be an eternity, and she had never felt so in touch with someone... because she had never gotten the chance.
They talked of his deeds, and of her-but she avoided the topic-and they spoke of... everything. His family, his sister, and his home, far north.
A town called, Terabetta.
And the stars. He liked the stars.
Soon they arrived back to her place, or about a mile off, to where she claimed to live. She could sneak back over the walls in a few minutes.
The smell of summer was so intense against her pale skin. Thisbe didn't want this to end.
"Will I see you again?" She barely heard Jyros talk, everything had gone by so fast, she had almost forgotten to breath. Being with him, things went by twice as fast. (A/N: Like my writing xD)
"Of course! I've seen where you were stationed. I might pop by for a quick visit now and then."
It was wonderful, she had found a friend, and the queasy feeling inside her was great too. Tomorrow was going to be a great day, and today wasn't even over. Thisbe had never felt so enraptured in life. As the slim weeds blew over the cobbled street she was walking over, Thisbe barely heard Jyros call out.
"Wait!"
Thisbe stopped in a fit of giggles and a beaming smile. She had never smiled. Now she loved it.
"What's your name?" His words hung in the air once more, but she quickly replied. She couldn't let this end. The air pushed back her cooper red hair.
"Lysandra!" She ran giddy back towards the wall, never had that been so true. Had she been so free.
"My name is Lysandra!"
Good things never lasted.
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It was dark, and despite her hopes of learning to control her power, seeing Jyros, and be outside again, Thisbe found herself in a nightmare.
The moon eclipsed the glimmer of sun in the horizon, and she was running. Running so hard she felt she might burst. The wind pushed her long wavy coopery hair into her ice green-blue eyes. Every bone in her body trembled.
"Stay away from him." For some reason this booming voice that made Thisbe scream out in pain seemed to glow without being there. And she knew which 'him' the womanly voice meant.
Thisbe tried to reply, but she was too parched to speak, the voice echoed inside her core until she crumpled back into reality.
"Lose you heart. Lose your power. Lose your love. Or I will make you miserable."
It was night. It was dawn. It was the curse.
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Thisbe went to see Jyros the next day, before her lesson. When she arrived before the drooling guards, she demanded to see him. They let her in with perverted thoughts that she read. But she didn't care. She needed to see him.
He was shocked to see her, but welcomed her with open arms, in a sense. Thisbe sat down on the rug, everything was moving too fast for her to understand. Jyros asked her why she was there and all she could do was reply with the truth. Emotionless round aqua eyes blanked up at him.
"I'm Thisbe. I'm cursed. Don't fall in love with me." And she left.
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Author's Note: That weird voice person is Hera... you probably knew that... but... Yeah. The longness, it burns! I just couldn't stop the pitter-patter of my fingers against the keyboard. You probably didn't read the whole thing because of this, but I'm engrossed in their world. Great. Ranting again. Much hugs. Next chapter... 'Kiss...' So it spells, 'The Cursed Kiss...' For now that is. Suspense! More hugs! P.S. I love Thisbe! - Nuuoa Eclaire
This story will be divided into three parts, originally two, but it is too long! Sorry. Happy and sad can't always be together. P.S. Thisbe will remind you of Theresa a bit. But better! Because she is mine! Look out for insights and foreshadowing into later chapters. Mentions of Terabetta, etc. Remember, it's up to you to decide if Theresa is Terabetta reborn. Or someone else. But for now it's about the past.
P.P.S. The titles of the three parts blend into each other, so the words 'The Monster's...' moves into something else. I'm just guessing, but I think it has something to do with love and death. Cough. End of long note. -Nuuoa Eclaire
Disclaimer: I do not own Class of the Titans, but I own all my own writings, story, Aredith and the modified legend of Thisbe.
Pairings: Thisbe/Jyros
Warnings: No actual Class of the Titans characters, besides mention of the gods, this happened in the times of ancient Greece, after Jason and some other main heroes.
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The Cold Side of Heart
Chapter 9: Love of the Cursed, Part One: The Cursed...
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She was a puzzle. A tool used and yelled at, plotted by people who needed to put her pieces wherever they pleased. Then getting fed up and throwing her away in a corner. Because she could never be completed. There was always one piece missing.
And she had no idea what it was.
What was love?
It was stupid. Truly a misgiving or result of the heat that seemed to emanate from the Greek countryside. She was not supposed to be thinking thoughts like these. But for that one blissful moment of reading through the old book, she found herself to long for something beyond the high walls that had surrounded her for generations. Beyond generations.
From the very first moment Pyramus had peered through the walls crack at Thisbe, her ancestor, with those great love-struck eyes.
She was cursed.
It was simple. She couldn't love. Pyramus and Thisbe had loved a love scorned by the gods, and they had paid the price. But it wasn't enough to kill them. They just had to kill her, too.
"... And their blood mixed to flesh, and from that flesh sprang a newborn babe. A girl-child. But the gods did not approve, and they cursed her and her generations. Forevermore, all offspring of Thisbe and Pyramus would be female. And forevermore would they be named: Thisbe.
But they could never love again, because if they did, it would be the death of their loved. And then themselves soon after..."
She was the offspring. One of many. Her mom was the offspring as well. But now only she remained. Torn from the only woman who could've ever loved her in this life. This monster.
'I cannot love.'
Suddenly a loud boomed rang around the marble room. The silk hangings and ivory wall decor shook on the walls. Thisbe threw her book under her pillow, and pulled herself into the proper pose. Non-threat. Hands behind back. She had every step memorized. What else did she have time for, locked up behind the vine covered walls of home. Not that she would be allowed to do anything outside after she uttered her name.
Her house tenant, Agnes, stood before her in all her stout glory. Fussing with her mousy brown hair, Agnes tried to turn away from Thisbe's meek gaze. She didn't want to be there when her eyes glowed. That soul-piercing turquoise. Supposedly a new part of the curse. Or something like that.
"Why are you here, Agnes?" Thisbe knew her humbled question, even to an old housekeeper, was unwelcome.
Her father's brother had taken her in at birth, after her father's death at war, and her mom's in childbirth. But of course, this was only family duty. And duty for their country, and the gods. If they kept her from ever roaming the land, then she could do no harm, or fall in love. And being the last line to Thisbe and Pyramus, the heritage would die off forever. No more curse. No more her.
"No questions!" Agnes kept her slumped back to Thisbe, making sure to dust the room briefly. The witch knew her name. The curse had no specifics. No one knew if the curse would kill someone Thisbe loved as a mother, friend, but they knew it would kill her lover.
"Okay," Thisbe pulled at her amethyst teardrop earrings, the only gift she had ever received. She could barely feel the skeptical maid admire her from a far. She didn't hear the thoughts of, 'If her curse didn't scare people away, it would be her unmortal beauty.' These thoughts were cut off by her inquisitive voice. It rung like the breeze, and sent shivers down Agnes spine.
"Could you maybe, stay?"
A woman of seventeen should not have to sound like a wounded child, 'But she is barely human!' Agnes tried to remind herself. Thisbe heard this thought, and shuddered against the harshness, compared to the shriveled older woman.
Sometimes Thisbe heard people's thoughts, but not only that. Her eyes glowed. Turquoise, like the seawaters. And sometimes, just sometimes, she could even move objects. If this was a part of her curse, it was new. And evil. Only clairvoyants, and the gods could do what she could. And clairvoyants were rare, and pure. Not a seed of Hades like herself. Thisbe only knew this from books. So what could she do?
"No! Now I must leave, child! You delay me while the master and his family are gone to market."
"Why are they... Oops," she grimaced while a fire burned inside her. Why couldn't she be accepted?
"No questions."
Agnes let her wrinkled and sun worn skin crinkle around her brown eyes as she studied her master's prisoner.
"Did you not know? Well, I suppose you couldn't have. A great hero is comin'. Said to be the next great Jason! I suppose you know who he is by all those books you been readin'." She shook her haggard head in disapproval. Thisbe let her emotion ripple beyond a void.
"What?" Thisbe asked in interest, the mock not affecting her. She was eager to learn. Finally something happening in this town she would learn about.
"Now don't go getting no ideas, but..." Agnes couldn't help but wink at the over-eager young woman before her. In all her time working in the mansion, she had never known what a strangely beautiful girl Thisbe was. And she felt nothing but pity. Still fear. And a faked wink.
"He's sure the looker."
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Green-blue eyes wide with wonder, Thisbe pulled her uncle's old cloak further over her head. She didn't look like a commoner, rather like a middle class woman on her way with the other's to meet this... hero. Moving in great happiness amongst the hustle of the people around her, Thisbe made sure to absorb every minute. If her uncle caught her outside the walls... Thisbe shivered in the heat and warm sun. She didn't want to think of the beating she'd get. She had heard her uncle's wife talk about killing her, to get the curse over with.
She vaguely felt the eyes of a hungry men travel her body on her journey down Market Street. The noonday sun was high in the sky, blazing white light over the rural green countryside. The hills seemed to be even more gigantic then from her window.
The vendors were in frenzy, coming in from all these faraway lands she had only read about. The rich aromas of fish and ambrosia wafted into her slender nostrils. The sounds of playing children, and deals never sounded so wonderful. Even if she almost went deaf from never hearing it before. Greece was beautiful, this town was alive, and the world seemed brighter. Better. No one knew who she was.
Then it hit her, she was really outside. In the small town of Valora, Greece. Thisbe had done it. She was free.
Her large eyes suddenly were begging to cry, so she pulled at her concealed white wrapped dress and teal sash to calm herself down. She had a few cuts and bruises, but she had climbed over the sun-cracked wall, using the crunchy vines for a grip. And she had taken one step closer to finding that missing piece. She would!
And if it hadn't been for that the next event, she would've forgotten about the stupid war hero and run off to find her destiny and explore everything she had read about. To a place where they didn't know her name. And she would be named, Lysandra, meaning: One who is freed.
But the event did take place, and it would change this young woman's life forever. It would change the lives of everyone in all of Greece, and it would change the life of the gods. It would shape history itself soo much that it would be forgotten. Because it was in that moment that the young handsome war hero came down the street she was musing in. And it was in that moment that his horse went berserk. And he looked at her.
Thisbe barely noticed his dazed eye-bulge at the gorgeous woman that seemed to glow away from the crowd of traders and townsfolk. But she did see him.
He appeared to be about eighteen, or nineteen; she could barely see him through the veil of hustling citizens. He had olive-toned skin, like a normal Greek's, unlike her paler complexion... due to the fact she had been kept from the sun nearly her whole life. His hair was a dark golden brown, just like his quizzical deep-set eyes. He had a longer nose, but it worked on him, and each of his features and muscles, were perfectly chiseled.
Though Thisbe had never really seen many men, she immediately knew he was as strong and noble as he was handsome. And he seemed to have a serious kindness to him. And though she had never seen many men, she knew that he was the best she would ever see. And her heart fluttered out into her throat.
Hera-the strange man's grand warhorse-danced impatiently over the dusty hot ground. The bay's nostrils flared outwards as her master's standout's smell hit her. Lavender and juniper... and magic. A force gripped her senses, and a powerful womanly voice rung inside her head. 'Kill her!' The dance became a tornado.
Thisbe barely heard the loud neigh as the hero's horse flew forward in frenzy. People all around her began to scream and run away in shambles. Thisbe noticed the horse with dilated pupils and frothing mouth. She tried to scream for help, but she forgot how... and then she felt a calm wrap its arms around her. A single phrase left her mouth before the sturdy frame of the horse's owner pushed her from the death path.
"Aellaqui Stuna Leima."
Thisbe hit the ground hard, and her arm broke from underneath her bosom. She let stifled gasp escape her full rosy lips.
"Are you okay?" In her almost unconscious daze, Thisbe forgot where she was and thought him to be a god himself. His voice was deep and rich, and like a craving, she couldn't get enough.
"I think I may have hurt my arm." Thisbe tried to see his tanned visage again. He could see hers.
"Let's find you a healer around here... What's your name?" She felt his question hang in the air. His dark eyes frowned at her.
'What should I say... can I lie to him? Will my family be here to see me soon? I need to get out of-'
"I am a healer!" A woman called from the now reproaching crowd, composed of girls flaunting their diminished beauty in front of Jyros. Around Thisbe even the fairest looked like hags.
Thisbe sighed in true relief; she had avoided the question for now. The woman who claimed to be a healer looked at her with large magical violet eyes. But she couldn't contemplate that thought, because the stab of pain her arm produced made the images slowly blur before her. The last angelic words she heard were: "My name is Jyros."
And what a beautiful name it was.
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It was late afternoon when she awoke; all she could feel was the diminishing pain in her arm. No wrap or anything. It shocked Thisbe only for a moment, because a pair of vibrant violet eyes were studying her thoughtfully.
Thisbe yelped in shock and fell over clumsily into the flap of herbs that was off to the side of the small worn beige tent. The woman in front of her laughed heartily. She was about no more than a decade older, Thisbe assumed. Her face was tanned, and sweet, with a broad nose and forehead, framing around large lavender eyes, and framed by black locks. Thisbe had never seen anything like her. This short woman was the most bizarre creature she had ever seen, despite herself. And that wasn't saying much, as she had only really seen one hour's worth of people in her life.
"Who're you?" Thisbe tried to ask haughty, even though she was the one who'd been surprised. A chunk of cooper fire hair had fallen in front of her face.
"Why, I am Acacia. The healer of this village, and fellow clairvoyant."
"Clairvoyant!" Thisbe declared in awed shock. 'Wait... 'fellow' clairvoyant?' She wasn't...
"I'm not a clairvoyant... I'm just a-a- mistake..." Thisbe fought the salt build up in her eyes.
"You are not a mistake, Thisbe Theodoropalis, the gods put you here for a reason. Despite your curse."
Thisbe's eyes flew open in irritated shock.
"How did you know my name?" She quivered into the corner of the tent, trying to find a gap in the side lining. The smell of grasses made her want to vomit.
"I'm a clairvoyant like you. I know these things." Acacia let a sigh drop from her mouth from her wide mouth, and continued.
"Don't you hear other people's thoughts? Wonder why you can do things others can't? Let me explain something to you," Acacia gently folded her bony hands in her lap, "Clairvoyants can are born with a power-source. There are three. The soul, brain, and heart. The soul's power is set in stone and unbendable, unless you steal power from someone else. The brain's power is only as wide as you think it can be. And the heart, is as great as your love. And love is the most powerful thing on earth."
'Love is the most power-' Thisbe let her thoughts settle; this was all too much.
"Continue," Thisbe pleaded with her shaking hands. Still squinting into the limpid purple eyes that watched her.
"Each clairvoyant has power words that go along with their source. The most powerful ever read about were the very words you just whispered.... Aellaqui Stuna Leima. So powerful... it is unbearable." Acacia shivered in the heat around them.
All Thisbe could do was nod and try to understand so many questions floated in her head. She couldn't grasp everything that was happening... she didn't understand why something good could happen to her.
"I want to teach you. Your questions will be answered then, come to me tomorrow before sundown. You will have your lessons at that time."
Thisbe opened her mouth to protest, and explain her curse further. To stay away from her. To just show her that she wasn't worthy, strong, or a clairvoyant. Acacia stopped her again with a single smile.
"Tomorrow. Now go back to that young hero, and be happy."
'Be happy.' For once she truly was.
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"Are you all right?" Jyros's sweet voice was the first thing that greeted her as Thisbe left the tent flap in a better mood then she could've imagined. She wasn't a monster. She had great powers, to help others.
"I've never been better!" She smiled so brightly; Jyros was momentarily in a coma.
Jyros smiled right back at her, and she felt some weird stomach virus take over her. They talked for what seemed to be an eternity, and she had never felt so in touch with someone... because she had never gotten the chance.
They talked of his deeds, and of her-but she avoided the topic-and they spoke of... everything. His family, his sister, and his home, far north.
A town called, Terabetta.
And the stars. He liked the stars.
Soon they arrived back to her place, or about a mile off, to where she claimed to live. She could sneak back over the walls in a few minutes.
The smell of summer was so intense against her pale skin. Thisbe didn't want this to end.
"Will I see you again?" She barely heard Jyros talk, everything had gone by so fast, she had almost forgotten to breath. Being with him, things went by twice as fast. (A/N: Like my writing xD)
"Of course! I've seen where you were stationed. I might pop by for a quick visit now and then."
It was wonderful, she had found a friend, and the queasy feeling inside her was great too. Tomorrow was going to be a great day, and today wasn't even over. Thisbe had never felt so enraptured in life. As the slim weeds blew over the cobbled street she was walking over, Thisbe barely heard Jyros call out.
"Wait!"
Thisbe stopped in a fit of giggles and a beaming smile. She had never smiled. Now she loved it.
"What's your name?" His words hung in the air once more, but she quickly replied. She couldn't let this end. The air pushed back her cooper red hair.
"Lysandra!" She ran giddy back towards the wall, never had that been so true. Had she been so free.
"My name is Lysandra!"
Good things never lasted.
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It was dark, and despite her hopes of learning to control her power, seeing Jyros, and be outside again, Thisbe found herself in a nightmare.
The moon eclipsed the glimmer of sun in the horizon, and she was running. Running so hard she felt she might burst. The wind pushed her long wavy coopery hair into her ice green-blue eyes. Every bone in her body trembled.
"Stay away from him." For some reason this booming voice that made Thisbe scream out in pain seemed to glow without being there. And she knew which 'him' the womanly voice meant.
Thisbe tried to reply, but she was too parched to speak, the voice echoed inside her core until she crumpled back into reality.
"Lose you heart. Lose your power. Lose your love. Or I will make you miserable."
It was night. It was dawn. It was the curse.
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Thisbe went to see Jyros the next day, before her lesson. When she arrived before the drooling guards, she demanded to see him. They let her in with perverted thoughts that she read. But she didn't care. She needed to see him.
He was shocked to see her, but welcomed her with open arms, in a sense. Thisbe sat down on the rug, everything was moving too fast for her to understand. Jyros asked her why she was there and all she could do was reply with the truth. Emotionless round aqua eyes blanked up at him.
"I'm Thisbe. I'm cursed. Don't fall in love with me." And she left.
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Author's Note: That weird voice person is Hera... you probably knew that... but... Yeah. The longness, it burns! I just couldn't stop the pitter-patter of my fingers against the keyboard. You probably didn't read the whole thing because of this, but I'm engrossed in their world. Great. Ranting again. Much hugs. Next chapter... 'Kiss...' So it spells, 'The Cursed Kiss...' For now that is. Suspense! More hugs! P.S. I love Thisbe! - Nuuoa Eclaire
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