Veil Of Lies (Rewritten)

Chapter One: Nymphaea

•Nymphaea -(Nim-Fae-E-Ah)
The aquatic flower Nymphaea has been used in countless religions and cultures, and due to some sub-species buds opening only at night, they have been commonly seen as a symbol of resurrection, and of rebirth.•

Nymphaea yelped when her body collided with the cold stone floor, she had heard her own arm make an unappealing crunching sound as she landed on it, but regardless of her circumstances the girl jumped up and lunged towards the small door, but just as she grasped it, it was slammed closed. And there was perfect silence.

Well, perfect if perfect was a horrible, agonizing pain that spread through her entire being. In that case, yeah, it was perfection.

So all alone, with her broken arm, Nymphaea cried, whether she'd admit to it or not, she cried for days and nights straight without food or water even offered to her, and when the tears finished, Nymphaea was filled with a new feeling, that of hatred.
Feeling true love for the first time couldn't hold a candle to feeling your first true hatred, it was a burning, toxic flame. One that she'd learn to feed in time.

Every single day from when the soldiers first tossed her down, Nymphaea woke up in this black cell, too tired to move, just strong enough to dream, and to use her magic to make her dreams come true.

Her hair had grown out, as did her nails and fangs, her body became too skeletal and feeble for her gowns to fit, it may have seemed like the least of her problems, but all those problems she had before had molded into the big problem of 'you've been exiled for life' so with only one other problem, getting upset over clothes was justified.

Some days, after hours of magic, Nymphaea gained the strength to sit upright instead of laying on the ground as if vultures would come for her if she were silent enough -now that...oh, that was a lovely fantasy.

But the unfortunate reality of it was that Nymphaea was not going to die any time soon. In fact, she'd keep on living while everyone she knew faded away, one by one.
But it didn't matter.
Nobody had stepped in when she was getting stabbed, or when she was thrown into solitary prison, and hey, nobody had said much of anything since she got here years ago. How many years...one, two, three, seventeen, fifty...one hundred..? Something along those lines.

All traitors, all liars. Nymphaea would make them all bleed in their last moments, for if there was one thing she hated it was liars. If there were two things she hated it was liars and traitors. If there were three, by chance, she hated liars, traitors, and Earth elves.
The Earth elves were unbearable abominations that created with such greed, and tore down their creations when they grew too strong, they feared anything or anyone better than them.

As they should.

Nymphaea used to cry about these things, a scared kid in a cold cell, tears pouring down her cheeks, but her emotional outbursts had run dry the last few decades. She was smarter now, wiser.