Wings of a Butterfly – Part ??: Mizuage (A Prelude)

(Author’s Note:  All speech is translated from the Japanese)

 

 

Age 16

 

 

A flock of brightly colored hummingbirds fluttered and tittered around her.

They spoke- rarely to her- in girlish, reverent whispers, while their fingers moved with brutish efficiency over her face, hair and clothing, poking and prodding, pinning and tugging, combing and fussing with every millimeter of the budding woman that they could put their hands upon.

One stood upon a small stool before her, pecking at her porcelain features with a single-haired brush. Working steadily, she perfected the sweeping, kabuki red lines along her eyelids, highlighting her full lips in the same vivid hue.

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Wings of a Butterfly – Part Three: Endurance

(Author’s Note: All speech is translated from the Japanese.)

((This post is rated PG18 for potentially disquieting scenarios.))

 

 

Age 7

 

Within the confines of a tiny, frugal kitchen, a thin, awkward child writhed on her feet and screamed in pain.

Two women stood with her, but seemed to be more the source of her agony, rather than her salvation.

The distinct crack of flesh on flesh filled the cramped space, a patch of furious color rising upon a pale, freckled cheek.  “You will be silent.

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Wings of a Butterfly – Prologue

In a place that was not a place at all, a pair of figures who were both far more than, and terribly less than, people, suddenly stood facing each other, where a moment earlier there had been nothing but slag and rock.   Each wore a voluminous cloak that shifted and stirred about their figures, muffling their forms to the extent that the only definable trait between them was a significant difference in height.

From within the void of the taller entity’s cowl, syllables of a tongue long faded from human hearing slithered with reluctance into the smoldering, oppressive air.  The moment the cavern’s molten boundaries absorbed the last of the creeping susurration, a writhing sigil flared into existence, perfectly equidistant between the pair.   Something in the bearing of each relaxed subtly, as the rune twisted and folded upon itself in the open space while it burned through a limited spectrum of decayed verdancy, at its lowest range hungrily devouring the light provided by the chamber itself.

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