15
th
Day of Moonfall, Year 879 of the Age of Shadow
I am vexed, diary! Vexed!
It has been a week since I last recorded my thoughts into your pages; a full week since my delightful domination of Shadra. But since then, things have gotten a little-
Complicated.
Alright, confused.
Alright, fraught. Disturbed.
Unseemly,
even. Let's run through the list of issues currently hounding me, shall we?
First are the dreadfully lewd dreams that stalk my sleep each night. Looking at the previous entry I find myself stunned that I actually entertained the notion that I might be able to sleep peacefully at the end of a hard day's scheming! Instead each night I am thrust into a lurid fantasy so real that sometimes I wake still believing it to be true!
The dream last night was especially disturbing. I was sitting in my room and studying some minor point of demonic theory when my door opened and Samuel walked in, accompanied by what I can only describe as a gigantic writhing mass of vines, roots, moss, grass and leaves. He walked up to me and said hello while behind him the invasive green growth spread like a wave over my bedroom- moss spilling along the walls, grass growing along my floors, roots stretching out to slither around my desk and bed. Dream me- may she die ten thousand deaths, each one more torturous than the last- for once managed to summon enough willpower to weakly protest this verdant imposition. Instead of looking ashamed Samuel merely laughed and said, "Don't be worrying love, it's what's meant to happen, you'll see."
Dream-me might have protested more but was distracted by a number of big, hearty vines slithering up her legs and coiling around her ankles. With a surprising gentleness her legs were parted to reveal a rather distressing lack of underwear. Samuel looked down at her-my exposed...um, hidden treasure...and said, "Well, that's a pretty little picture right there."
Now as shocking- humiliating- and yes, strangely titillating it was to have my most private and secret places exposed to the eyes of that lumbering muscular brute as though the forest was offering me up to him, I managed to look around. What I saw was no less than an utter transformation. My room- possibly the whole palace- was gone, replaced by forest landscape. Grass and bushes and birdsong; towering, leafy trees and small, dark bushes. Everything was green and sunlight filtered down from afar, warming my cheek. The vines slithered under my clothes and to my shock their movements, slow and gentle and winding like the hands of a dozen lovers, aroused me far more than such an imprisonment should have merited.
Samuel spoke again. "You see? Everything is nice and healthy and fertile. Like you." And he pulled down his trousers and he had a- a forest between his legs, an entire great, primeval force of life and growth contained within his glorious length, and he pushed into my-
And of course that was when I woke up.
Every night! Every night the same torment, the same trial, the same torture! Night after night of dreams where I giggle like a child, swoon like an invalid, submit like a pet and, oh yes, spread my legs like a slattern! As dreams go it wasn't even the worst! There was that one where Terra and I were kneeling in front of Daddy's throne as we typically do; except that we were both naked and- and- sitting atop the throne was a gigantic version of Samuel's tod- his penis. Which
spoke
to us in a great booming voice, demanding to prove our worthiness to sit on the throne- and it. Dream me (my nemesis!) put forward several rather intelligent, complex and moving arguments as to why I should be 'best royal breeder'. Then there was that overlong dream involving a gigantic metal ship, an iceberg and a rather overwrought musical accompaniment-
(Although I suppose that one ended well enough. If that idiot didn't want to drown he should have found his own damn door).
***
Secondly- further vexations had been ably supplied by (surprised, surprise) my dearest half-sister (probably a changeling or a shaved monkey swapped at birth, etc. etc. etc.). Seven days ago I made the decision not to thoroughly sabotage her ridiculous ritual plan. I assumed this would give me the opportunity, through my superior intellect, to dazzle Daddy with my genius and prove to him that I should be put in charge of the final preparations. However, my exhausted and...distracted state has left me, well...
Clumsy.
It pains me deeply to admit that I appear to be the weakest link in the gathering of mages and priestesses involved in the ritual. Why, twice I have made basic errors that anyone capable of manipulating the fundamental theological concepts of creation with nothing but the sheer potent glory of her intellect should have spotted! It is so humiliating! I've had to swear eternal vengeance three times already due to sly looks and sniggers from the others. One priestess- some red-haired vixen named Sinistoria- was insolent enough to dare hint that my sister would be better served with my absence. Oh, her doom shall be truly worthy of legend!
Terra is of course suspicious of me. Moreso, I mean. She's taking to affecting a strange veneer of uncertainty around me- no doubt trying to lure me into a false sense of security. She's even begun to play with this strange fiction of 'sisterly bonding' that yes, fine, I am
technically
responsible for initiating. Three times now I've found myself in conversations with my (supposed) sibling, indulging in what can only be described as small talk about our day and how we feel about...well...