Frozen Flames: The Queen of Hell

Chapter Three: Vonlaust

        The girl had shown up in Sheol overnight a week or so back, shivering and stupid. Not that Mara much fancied that word, but how else could anyone explain the strawberry-blonde's childlike, gurgling nature? It was as though someone had removed her brains from their rightful position in her skull. It was a disturbing prospect, but a real one. Mara had seen Morgan do crazier things before; removing a poor girl's brains would likely be a literal snap for the sorceress. 

        Mara brushed one of the girl's messy braids out of her eyes, revealing a generally peaceful, relaxed visage. She was pretty, Mara decided with a furrowed brow. Whatever could she have done to earn Morgan's ire? After all, she seemed quite innocent enough, even if she was tense and rocking back and forth in feverish propulsion most of the time. The poor girl. Nabal's whip had never before seemed so busy as the way they tore this clueless darling's back.

        The girl's dress was considerably finer than anything Mara had ever seen before; even Naamah's beautifully luxurious gowns paled in comparison, though she didn't dare express such an observation out loud. Naamah was kinder than Morgan... Until someone insulted her unquestionable beauty, that is. Mara supposed Naamah could be considered beautiful, despite her petite build; if only she'd stop scowling, she would look far more beautiful still.

        "How's she doing?"

        Mara looked up with a fragile smile as Acacia -- her twin sister -- entered the hovel, bearing a wet rag before her as though it were intended to be a peace offering. She took it and placed it upon the sleeping girl's forehead. "Vona's alright," Mara answered in a hush, moving placing her hand on that of the slumbering girl.

        "Don't let Morgan hear you calling her that," Acacia warned sternly, moving over to the hovel's far corner, though her eyes remained on her sister. "Nabal will have your back shredded for sure. I'll have to sew you back together again!"

        With an exasperated sigh, Mara nodded her concession. "Alright. But only when we think Morgan might be nearby, okay?" She shook her head in devastation. "I can't bear calling her Vonlaust. I can't believe that all hope is lost for her; she's such a pretty girl. She deserves fair more than this oppression."

        Though she was clearly trying to look stern, the corner of Acacia's mouth quirked into a half-smile. "Fair enough, I suppose. But you're asking for trouble by naming her Hope. You know that, Mara?"

        Mara didn't meet her sister's eyes. She was too busy looking over Vona, stroking the girl's hair lightly. "I know, Acacia. But someone has to have the courage to stand up to Morgan. Why not start here?" She studied Vona's tanned visage silently for a moment. "I didn't know skin could get that dark," she said in awe. "It's so... unique."

        Acacia sidled closer, sitting on Vona's other side as she looked at her sister with a shrug. "I suppose exposure to the sun does that to people," she answered reasonably, before a shadow of doubt crossed her gold-flecked sapphire eyes. "That is... if the sun really does exist..."

        Neither of the girls said anything for a moment. To them, tales of the upper world were little more than bedtime stories Naamah told to the laborers when she was in a pleasant mood. The sun, the sky, the ocean, the clouds... How could any of it be real? How could a giant lantern hang in an endless blue sky, illuminating everything for miles upon ceaseless miles? Surely it was only a fairy tale to make them feel good. It was just... Impossible.

        On top of that, how could there be millions of people? Mara and her sister knew of only fifteen -- themselves, the other ten female laborers, and Morgan, Naamah, and Mardon. Vona would make it sixteen. In all honesty, though, could any of the laborers be considered people? They were experiments sprouted from the ground, the results of Mardon's genetic study, Morgan's sorcery, and Naamah's haunting ballads. Sure, they were sustained by food and underwent bodily functions, but... Could they rightfully be considered people?