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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄



Vespertine Delia Antanoff knew all about sin.
She grew up as the most avid sinner in her village.

Constantly running around, dirtying her skirts as she ran through mud being chased by boys.
She would play and hide in the woods.

Rumors that she was a witch blew around her in the cold Russian wind. Her wild hair and purple flashing eyes didn't help. Boys that annoyed her would be driven mad. Literally. With her mother dead and her father unknown, she was reluctantly raised by the village.

They all hoped she'd die of a plague.

She never really knew why she wasn't allowed to enter the Russian village's little chapel till she had nowhere to run.

She had sat in a blood-red pew and heaved as she tried to catch her breath. She was much faster than the village men.

The village had had enough of her wild ways and decided to put a stop to her. They were promising to burn her.
And she had run to a place they would not care to look.

Vespertine stared at the polished mirror ceiling, her reflection stared back at her as she struggled to catch her breath. Her purple eyes could never be described as warm. They were cold and unforgiving. She wondered if that's what she looked like to the gods up above.

No one ever could read that child. Too smart for her own good and too wild to be married off.

She got drunk on the altar wine and stared at the ceiling. She always tried praying to the god of this church, but he never answered. He was a new habit that the village embraced.

Vespertine only truly believes in the old gods from old lands. The ones with tempers that change like the weather.

The old gods that were rumored to have created her.

She dropped the chalice of wine that made her higher than ever. She tried to stand up as she heard people in front of the barred doors.

She slipped. Fell. A jagged gash on her face appeared. Her blood mixed with the altar wine.

She prayed to herself as she heard the banging on the doors. Maybe it wasn't all to herself, but a plea to the universe. To spare her. To give her an escape.
She begged for the first time in her life that day.
She begged to leave. To be able to escape.
To not have any consequences.

And someone answered.
Someone who had been watching their own daughter for a very long time.
A being with familiar purple eyes appeared and asked her what she wanted.

She didn't know, so she asked for time.
He tried explaining to her the curse that time came with.
But his warning fell on deaf ears, as she was drunk on fear and ecstatic for an answer.
She didn't care.

She did it to herself although she'd later blame him.
She got her wish.

And she then bore the curse that came with it.

She would be immortal.
She would be forgotten.
She could not leave a mark.
She could appear as any age she wished.
She got a ring that could turn into a sword.
She got adventure.
And she got
time.

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