>Zebaya<
Intro: Born to be a sacrifice, Zebaya had grown up alone, kept from everyone to prevent her from growing connections to others. Even her birth mother hid her identity from the child, pretending to be an aunt.
When the time for the sacrifice came, Zebaya was nearly powerless to resist being taken. However, her "aunt" managed to sneak her away the night before the ceremony, and she's been living on shaky ground with the distant adult ever since.
Personality: Having grown up with no hope in her life, but an inexplicable drive to survive, Zebaya is a firm, determined young female. Though she can seem harsh and distant, she truly doesn't know how to interact with others. She has a difficult time trusting and opening up to anyone. Even she doesn't really know herself fully.
Likes: Freedom
Dislikes: Her past
Parents: Mother- Màiri (thinks of as an aunt); Father- Some rogue jerk.
Sexuality: I prefer other females~ but guys aren't so bad. Ultimately, though, females.
Every year the tradition continued and every year Màiri felt the knife stabbing into her side. She imagined herself on the stone pedestal which soaked in the blood of those innocent girls. Its cold granite pressed into her back… the idea which once sent shivers of fear down her back now made her hands clench in frustration. She was the perfect daughter, the one that her parents couldn’t live without. She had to live for them whether she liked it or not.
Years ago that fact had been proven to her. It had been her name which was read by the elders to be presented at the sacrifice, her parents had feared for weeks that this would happen, and it was her named Màiri who would cheat the system. It was such an irony that she who preferred death was tied so strongly to life. Her nursemaid must have truly had a sense of humor then to have tricked her mother into naming her ‘Màiri’ a name that sounded so joyful yet truly translated towards one with a bitter fortune that rebelled. Perhaps the crazy old cattaur had really seen the future for her then on that day…
Her rebellion wasn’t against the will of the elders, but instead was against her parents. For years she had always lived on the edge dodging the fancy clothing for the mud on her fur, the freedom of the wind to the stiffness of suitors and teachers. So when she found out that she could most likely be named as the sacrifice Màiri had actually opened her arms to it. She wanted her blood to be useful for once instead of relying on the privilege it had given her. This time she could help the village out. She was after all an honorable and pure girl who despised how those with status would often cheat the system.
Her family felt otherwise. It still chilled her to the bone to remember how her mother came up with a plan to save their precious ‘heir’. How could the sacrifice be someone who was not alone? Having her to be with child would force the elders to choose a new sacrifice. Màiri could only remember her heart breaking screams as the hired male forced himself on her. After that for weeks she was in a fog, a daze from the shock of her own parents’ insane actions. After she heard the bitter truth that in time not only had someone else taken her place that year at the altar that the child inside of her was to take her place in the future as well (in place of the innocent who had died that night) the foxtaur finally rebelled. Unfortunately for her the guards found her before she bled to death and killed the baby who she had struggled to cut from her own side leaving the deep scars up and down her body.
The healer who saved her and later was the one to deliver her cursed daughter said that it was these actions which shocked the baby inside of her to having such white fur and hair. If it wasn’t for that then she would have most likely looked more like a true mix of her mother and the rogue which fathered her. This daughter Màiri wanted nothing to do with. Even though she had accepted the fact that she was not allowed to die and was just a living puppet of her parents the fox wanted nothing to do with the girl who she knew she was just fated to lose.
Numb to the world Màiri lived in a fog for many years and coldly watched as her daughter, Zebaya the nurse had named her since no one else would, grew under her parents’ cold care. For them Màiri was the only concern as her mother was determined to find her daughter a mate to produce a true heir, not a sacrificial b*****d. Unfortunately for her Màiri, who was still unpredictable despite being numb, did still have enough fight left in her to keep pushing off suitors for a while...
Zebaya’s fate was just as cruel as the fate of the female who had birthed her. Why....? Why was she forced to live with such knowledge? What was the point of letting her go on for so long? Knowing exactly when she was going to die. No... When she was going to be killed. Be sacrificed.
As a child, Zebaya had known. Everything. Her guardians had never minced words with her. Had never pretended to love her. Neither had her “aunt,” the daughter of Zebaya’s guardians. No one told her where she’d come from. She liked to imagine she was a princess, stolen away as an infant. It was better than thinking she was some unwanted twerp dumped off at the doorsteps of these foxtaur. If her guardians were distant, her aunt was downright cold. Zebaya could swear there was hatred in the other’s eyes every time they met...
No one was allowed to be her friend. She was usually kept hidden away in the house. When she was allowed outside, she was kept close, and it was made clear how much of a burden she was. She wasn’t allowed to go play with the other children while the adults went shopping. She was held right to their side, quiet and still.
Of course, no one else knew her coming fate. The deal wasn’t official, but she was in the line, waiting for her time to come to be able to be chosen... As she got older, the reality was able to sink in. She understood what it really meant to be a sacrifice. She had no one to support her as the burden hung heavier and heavier. Zebaya had tried taking her own life as a young teen, but... no matter how long she had stared at that blade, she couldn’t bring herself to even touch it. She didn’t want to die... That was when she made her plan to escape. Her whole teenage life had consisted of her trying to break free of the invisible chains. Sneaking out at night, while everyone was asleep. Running off on trips to town when her guardians were distracted. Someone always managed to catch her, though. There was always someone watching the sacrificial lamb.
More and more often, it was her aunt catching her. At first, Zebaya would get thrown back into her room, and miss out on the next two meals of the day. Slowly though... the punishments lessened. She would miss only one meal... She would be locked in for a few hours... She didn’t notice when it happened, but, suddenly, her aunt was covering for her! Claiming that Zebaya was out with her permission. That she was escorting the teen around... Though suspicious, Zebaya felt the gap between her aunt and herself closing. ...She didn’t understand it, but she grasped at the connection like a lifeline. No one else had ever done a thing for her... and something about her aunt drew her...
Now, the time had come though. One night, she was taken away and hidden from the town, and marked with tattoos for all to see in case she escaped... She was to be the next sacrifice. Holed up in the cave wasn’t much different than being holed up at the house she lived in, but fear was settling in... How would she escape this...?
Màiri had created a plan. Over the years the foxtaur had tried desperately to keep her heart cold since she was so afraid of growing to love the child. She recognized that pain in her eyes and the desire to break free from the chains of others who sought to control her life. Without realizing it her heart had softened towards the girl and eventually she started to even think of her as a daughter, an ally in the madness created by a ritual that should have long been gone. It was tonight that she finally made her decision, hearing the words that her daughter was to be sacrifice despite years of knowing the girl’s fate had snapped her awake from the fog she had been trapped in. Tossing the fine jewelry from around her neck she slammed the proposal ring onto the vanity. She was not her mother’s puppet, she refused to do this any longer.
This whole play of the village would end tonight as she tricked the guards asleep and stole out with Zebaya in tow. One day maybe the two of them would return, but they would not be alone. There would be those who would help fight for change with her for Màiri was determined to start a brighter future and get rid of any old taints, including sacrifices.
Years ago that fact had been proven to her. It had been her name which was read by the elders to be presented at the sacrifice, her parents had feared for weeks that this would happen, and it was her named Màiri who would cheat the system. It was such an irony that she who preferred death was tied so strongly to life. Her nursemaid must have truly had a sense of humor then to have tricked her mother into naming her ‘Màiri’ a name that sounded so joyful yet truly translated towards one with a bitter fortune that rebelled. Perhaps the crazy old cattaur had really seen the future for her then on that day…
Her rebellion wasn’t against the will of the elders, but instead was against her parents. For years she had always lived on the edge dodging the fancy clothing for the mud on her fur, the freedom of the wind to the stiffness of suitors and teachers. So when she found out that she could most likely be named as the sacrifice Màiri had actually opened her arms to it. She wanted her blood to be useful for once instead of relying on the privilege it had given her. This time she could help the village out. She was after all an honorable and pure girl who despised how those with status would often cheat the system.
Her family felt otherwise. It still chilled her to the bone to remember how her mother came up with a plan to save their precious ‘heir’. How could the sacrifice be someone who was not alone? Having her to be with child would force the elders to choose a new sacrifice. Màiri could only remember her heart breaking screams as the hired male forced himself on her. After that for weeks she was in a fog, a daze from the shock of her own parents’ insane actions. After she heard the bitter truth that in time not only had someone else taken her place that year at the altar that the child inside of her was to take her place in the future as well (in place of the innocent who had died that night) the foxtaur finally rebelled. Unfortunately for her the guards found her before she bled to death and killed the baby who she had struggled to cut from her own side leaving the deep scars up and down her body.
The healer who saved her and later was the one to deliver her cursed daughter said that it was these actions which shocked the baby inside of her to having such white fur and hair. If it wasn’t for that then she would have most likely looked more like a true mix of her mother and the rogue which fathered her. This daughter Màiri wanted nothing to do with. Even though she had accepted the fact that she was not allowed to die and was just a living puppet of her parents the fox wanted nothing to do with the girl who she knew she was just fated to lose.
Numb to the world Màiri lived in a fog for many years and coldly watched as her daughter, Zebaya the nurse had named her since no one else would, grew under her parents’ cold care. For them Màiri was the only concern as her mother was determined to find her daughter a mate to produce a true heir, not a sacrificial b*****d. Unfortunately for her Màiri, who was still unpredictable despite being numb, did still have enough fight left in her to keep pushing off suitors for a while...
Zebaya’s fate was just as cruel as the fate of the female who had birthed her. Why....? Why was she forced to live with such knowledge? What was the point of letting her go on for so long? Knowing exactly when she was going to die. No... When she was going to be killed. Be sacrificed.
As a child, Zebaya had known. Everything. Her guardians had never minced words with her. Had never pretended to love her. Neither had her “aunt,” the daughter of Zebaya’s guardians. No one told her where she’d come from. She liked to imagine she was a princess, stolen away as an infant. It was better than thinking she was some unwanted twerp dumped off at the doorsteps of these foxtaur. If her guardians were distant, her aunt was downright cold. Zebaya could swear there was hatred in the other’s eyes every time they met...
No one was allowed to be her friend. She was usually kept hidden away in the house. When she was allowed outside, she was kept close, and it was made clear how much of a burden she was. She wasn’t allowed to go play with the other children while the adults went shopping. She was held right to their side, quiet and still.
Of course, no one else knew her coming fate. The deal wasn’t official, but she was in the line, waiting for her time to come to be able to be chosen... As she got older, the reality was able to sink in. She understood what it really meant to be a sacrifice. She had no one to support her as the burden hung heavier and heavier. Zebaya had tried taking her own life as a young teen, but... no matter how long she had stared at that blade, she couldn’t bring herself to even touch it. She didn’t want to die... That was when she made her plan to escape. Her whole teenage life had consisted of her trying to break free of the invisible chains. Sneaking out at night, while everyone was asleep. Running off on trips to town when her guardians were distracted. Someone always managed to catch her, though. There was always someone watching the sacrificial lamb.
More and more often, it was her aunt catching her. At first, Zebaya would get thrown back into her room, and miss out on the next two meals of the day. Slowly though... the punishments lessened. She would miss only one meal... She would be locked in for a few hours... She didn’t notice when it happened, but, suddenly, her aunt was covering for her! Claiming that Zebaya was out with her permission. That she was escorting the teen around... Though suspicious, Zebaya felt the gap between her aunt and herself closing. ...She didn’t understand it, but she grasped at the connection like a lifeline. No one else had ever done a thing for her... and something about her aunt drew her...
Now, the time had come though. One night, she was taken away and hidden from the town, and marked with tattoos for all to see in case she escaped... She was to be the next sacrifice. Holed up in the cave wasn’t much different than being holed up at the house she lived in, but fear was settling in... How would she escape this...?
Màiri had created a plan. Over the years the foxtaur had tried desperately to keep her heart cold since she was so afraid of growing to love the child. She recognized that pain in her eyes and the desire to break free from the chains of others who sought to control her life. Without realizing it her heart had softened towards the girl and eventually she started to even think of her as a daughter, an ally in the madness created by a ritual that should have long been gone. It was tonight that she finally made her decision, hearing the words that her daughter was to be sacrifice despite years of knowing the girl’s fate had snapped her awake from the fog she had been trapped in. Tossing the fine jewelry from around her neck she slammed the proposal ring onto the vanity. She was not her mother’s puppet, she refused to do this any longer.
This whole play of the village would end tonight as she tricked the guards asleep and stole out with Zebaya in tow. One day maybe the two of them would return, but they would not be alone. There would be those who would help fight for change with her for Màiri was determined to start a brighter future and get rid of any old taints, including sacrifices.
