[22nd day of winter 507.a.v.]
[Stormhold Castle]
[Middle day]
The young girl got up early in the morning, this was her day off and she had nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about in terms of job that is, Amelia had big plans for this day so she couldn’t let herself sleep in. Not that she would even if she could, she just had trouble sleeping, constant nightmares made her feel a bit uneasy and just begging for the nights to come to an end.
Once the girl was out of her bed, she carefully straightened her bed sheets to leave the bed tidy and clean. The fabric they were made of were cheap and you could see that they were getting worn out at some parts, but as long as they did the job, she didn’t complain. After all, bout she and her mother had it hard in this city, and not because it would unwelcoming, it was just hard to make it to the top if you weren’t a knight, actually, the girl had doubts it was even possible. She threw her blanket over the bed, followed by her pillow after she had buffed it up. The place she lived in with her mother, small and not really fitted for two women to live comfortably, but she had little to no choice.
Amelia walked to the trunk she used as a clothing storage and pulled out her clothes for the day. Most all of her dresses were the same cut, with flowing bottoms and corset like detail, this was no exception. It was well kept and token care of, but it was made of cheap fabric that didn’t really feel all that nice on the skin, but she didn’t mind, she could live with it, for now. The dress was black and it made her look even paler. The girl claimed it was the fact she lived in Syliras that she was so pale, but actually, that was just the way she was. Pale skinned and dark haired, like her father. She walked to the vanity table she and her mother shared. It was simple and didn’t have any fancy carving detail on it, but it had the essential drawers and mirror, honestly, that was all she needed. Some place where she could see her face and place her makeup.
Standing in front of the mirror with no makeup on, she felt naked and exposed. She had gotten so used to wearing makeup, that when she had none on she felt vulnerable and endangered. It was actually quite sad, but she didn’t see it like that. She saw it as reinventing herself each day, a new Amelia would leave through the doors and everything would be beautiful. She lied to herself. Placing a fake smile on her face, she began applying a layer of make up over a layer. She began by putting on a color a shade darker than her skin along the cheekbones, chin and nose, a lighter, color on the bridge of her nose and the top of her cheeks, and above her brow bone. With her fingers she blended all of it in with her skin, erasing the sharp lines and leaving the re-sculpted face of a doll. She would do this each day, mimicking a different woman she would have seen or just someone from her mind. Now she was attempting to recreate the face of a woman she saw the day before.
Looking in the mirror, she toke one of the brushes and ran it along the black eye shadow she owned. She would use the color to reshape her thin brows into a fuller set of frames, just like the woman had. The first was successful, but matching the other toke some time and careful examination. Moving on, she toke her eyeliner and lined her eyes with a thick line. It looked like a mess, but it was supposed to, because with a soft brush she blended it all out, creating a gradient from her lashes. Then taking the liner once more and creating a stronger defining line along the lashes, with a light, small wing at the end that barely extended pass the natural lash line. A coat of mascara that ended up clumping her lashes quite a bit. A pale color on her lips, and she set it all off with powder. She combed her hair and tied it up in a high ponytail, her mask was complete.
Placing all of her belongings in place, she turned around and picked up her bag. She didn’t speak to her mother who just sat there, watching as her daughter draw a new and unusual, unfitting for her face each day. But she had no telling over this, and so, she could just watch as her daughter left once more.
Amelia walked through Syliras. She disliked the city, at best days, at worst; she wouldn’t feel anything towards it. Now, she just thought of it as nothing more than a collection of animals in huge walls. She didn’t see this city as the sanctuary of peace and happiness, no not even once. This was a prison and she refused to think of it otherwise. Above all, it had no daylight what made the girl grow depressed more with each day. The knights reeked, she couldn’t put it in other words, she believed they knew what personal hygiene was, they just had bad luck following it with the heavy armor they wore all the time. She used every moment she had to just get out.
She didn’t pay attention to how long she walked, she just walked on autopilot to the doors of her friend Nol’Tia, or how she referred to her, Tia. She was her best friend and today they were having a lesson in fortune telling. A practice Amelia would have never guessed to be this interested in. A soft knock on the door, and the woman opened it. Her light colored locks falling over her shoulder, her scaled patterns exposed for everyone to see ”hey””glad to see you this early” the two exchanged the politeness and Amelia entered. For some reason her friends place seemed to be a lot nicer than her own.
The Cross sat down on a chair, next to a table and the konti joined her soon enough. She could feel the scaled woman had her eyes glued on her, and she knew why. She was wondering who’s face Amelia was attempting to steal this time. But she refrained from asking, and Amelia would not push the answer towards her without any reasoning behind it. ”so, lets read palms” she told while taking a book of the old art and placing it on the table. Amelia had seen it so many times, but she didn’t really understand half of the things written in it, so she didn’t rush to open it, nor was she eager to.
