The Daughter's of Helios and Nyx

Celena My night ends with a final patrol of the lands below where we reside. The morning dawn will end the silent night, and the birds will sing their raucous songs. Upon landing, my duties don’t end there. I must send in The Night Sweep to none other than Night herself, my mother Nyx. I stride through the garden; I can’t help but feel the weight of her expectations pressing down on me. Every step I take is a reminder of the legacy I must uphold, and the fear of disappointing her gnaws at my core. Ignoring the floral scents that permeate the air, I enter our home, or ‘manor’ as they like to call it.” Dashing up the left-wing stairs that lead to my parent’s room, which has two flights that lead off to other work-like business rooms. Once I’m up the second flight of stairs I must climb a dooming spiral staircase that will lead to her bedroom tower. I briefly nod at Thromistien, my mother’s guard as he lets me through the ornately carved double doors. Of course she is waiting for me at her desk, already dressed in her midnight silk night slip covered in a silver satin caftan, and a cup of her special chamomile-lavender tea in one hand. “Come sit my darling. I have your tea for you.” Her sleepy bell-tone voice dances in the air, but I can sense the underlying tension. Her eyes, though warm, hold a flicker of concern. It’s moments like these that remind me of the delicate balance we maintain between mother and daughter, mentor and student. I greedily snatch the teacup and sip the steamy floral liquid in one swallow by the time I sit down on the edge of the metallic mauve opulent chair in front of her. “The patrol went smooth, nothing new, nothing to report mother.” I said, trying to sound matter of fact. “May I be dismissed, mother?” I asked, my voice tight and tremulous. My mother’s cool grey eyes narrow down upon my own. She sits forward, hair flowing like a black lake and rests her chin over her long, elegant hands that are smothered in lavender oil and fingers adorned in rings of all different runes, a skeptical grin glides across her lips. “Why? the rush, Celena?” Her eyes squinted playfully, Besides the squint in her eyes, I could probably fall asleep right here if I do not get out of here in the next few minutes. Being disrespectful would only result in more chores and tasks before I could sleep. With school resuming tomorrow, I needed to prepare for the insufferable kids. Ugh. I locked my eyes with her. “The night is over, and I would like to get some sleep before Oriana comes back with her ever so obnoxiously loud sing-song voice.” She really is way too chipper at this time of day, and I continue to add another matter at hand. “I really don’t care which bunny or birdy she thought was the cutest while she was out on her little stroll.” I groaned, rolling my eyes dramatically and flinging my head back on the chair. I pull my legs up and run a frustrating hand through my hair. Why must I always have to express to my mother that just because Oriana and I are twins doesn’t mean Oriana and I must like each other or do things together? “Now, be nice to your sister.” She chuckled lightly. “It’s not her fault was born with the sun and also and inherited your fathers nurturing traits” Mischief flits across her eyes, and a bright smile on her petal pink lips. Calm and sleepily she answers “but yes, if you insist there is nothing to report, she stifles a yawn and continues “you are dismissed. Sleep well my Little Luna. Ever since I was born, she has called me her Little Luna. It is a nickname meaning little moon child. I sit up and nod my head towards her “goodnight mother” my voice hoarse as sleep is about to overtake me. I glided a nonchalant hand over my moon phase side cut as I dragged myself to my feet. I feel as though I weigh a million pounds at this point. I use what strength I have left and practically fly to my quarter of the manor where my room is, but that uses too much exertion. I make it down the spiral staircase and the two flight of stairs in half the time. And ignore my parents’ workers. I finally make it to my room and strip my clothes off until I’m in just my camisole and underwear and sink onto my bed. Slowly I pull the cashmere throw blanket over me. My bed is a four-poster with elegant black beams carved from one of the rare ancient Cimmerian trees. The walls are dark red crimson, and an obsidian chandelier hangs in the middle of my room. The chandelier was hand crafted to my exact liking, adorned with glistening red rubies that have everlasting charmed candles always burning. In each corner of the room is a small antique gas lamp that gives off barely enough light so that the shadows dance and play along the walls. A double layer of velvet black out curtains heavily drapes over my windows and the two sets of double French doors that lead out onto my private balcony. My eyes are more sensitive to the sun, but during the beginning of twilight I pull open the curtains. It only takes me a moment after laying there in my bed to realize I am not alone. Across the room is a dark looming figure standing in the corner of my room. Casually leaning up against the farthest set of French doors, was a silhouette of a man. His eyes blazed red, his pupils dilated. I’ve seen this before and know that the blood vessels in his eyes have burst so that the whites of them are black shot. It’s something like when humans’ eyes go blood shot. Those same eyes instantly dagger me and zero in on every curvature on my body. From my eyes to my lips, and a chill works its way up when he leers longingly at the base of my throat. As he continues to rake his gleaming eyes over my body all the while not moving a single inch, I realize all that I’m wearing, or lack of for that matter. I slowly pull up the thin blanket up to my chest. A wicked grin plays on his lips, he chuckles with no emotion. Guttural and husky he snarles “I’ve been waiting for you to acknowledge my presence. Perhaps your otherworldly eyes are not as exceptional as the Unworthy humans say you are Celena.” His teeth sharp, clipping precisely at the end of each syllable. He finally leans away from the French doors and saunters slowly to the railing and disappears in a flash.