It had nearly been a lifetime ago that Astarael had called the sands of Ischia her home. Stoic upon the shell ridden shores once more bathed in the navy of midnight. Glowing blue phytoplankton danced in the shallows their ethereal blue glow breaking through the fog that surrounded her. The sticky salt of the ocean spray clung to her wings and fur, sand rubbing against her skin uncomfortably. Her childhood had been wasted there, stranded upon the small mass of land that seemingly jutted up from the middle of the ocean. Apart and yet somehow different, Ischia almost appeared an entity of its own. Her father had crowned himself king, thus naming her his bastard. His other children, Aemar, Raelyx, Belgaer, Mosrael and, even, tiny little Khaeli were all royalty, true born children of the king and his queen. The very thought disgusted her. Discarded and outcasted, when she had left not one member of her family had gone looking for her. Seamlessly she had disappeared into the darkest realms of Beqanna, becoming the very thing Brennen had fought to protect her. Immortal, though he was, the king of Ischia still had many flaws.
Galili was only his latest choice of consort. Even despite his favor for her, he had no qualms with whoring himself out every season. In turn producing a myriad of fatherless children scattered throughout the land. Astarael was nothing more than a product of his lust. Discontent to sit upon his shelf of conquests she had set out to make something of herself. Now, she was hardly recognizable from the innocent filly she had once been.
She reveled in the thought that her own father would not even recognize her anymore. Wing broke through the soft skin of her back, their leathery span stretching almost the length of her body. In a short time, they would soon be strong enough to carry her across the sky of Beqanna. The crown of horns upon her head were more than just a mark of the demonic spirit she now possessed. She was every bit the queen she’d hoped to become. Tangled about her legs, the glow of her fear aura broke through the still of night hungrily searching for its next target. Crustaceans and birds fled from her, frightened at the sight and feel of her. The fairies had finally answered her prayers, and, in return, they had transformed her into more than she could have ever anticipated. Stretching beyond the change in her appearance, she had found a purpose as the Demon Queen of Sylva. She ruled with terror and purpose. Even the highly esteemed king himself feared and adored her.
Returning to Ischia had been something weighing heavily upon her mind for some time. Not to remember but to forget. To spit in the face of everything that had sought to hinder her progress and to keep her firmly within the clutches of those who would see her be nothing but ordinary. She was bigger than that now. Greater than anyone could ever have anticipated.
@[Brennen] Enjoy
