Traditions are never broken

[Kalif Styx]

It was time for those that have had their children and enter the family, to come and have an access to their Manor, and also have some advantages as to being apart of the Zhefarovich Family. Both gloved hands where on Cecily's and Nicolette's shoulders. Releasing them, he glanced around the hallway, before he nodded at them to go toward the room that used to have double doors. Asparuh had yet to replace them properly. All that could be seen from their viewpoint is the crest of the family hanging high above the raging fireplace. He knew that this would not last too long, because the symbol that would go upon their shoulders would be small and wouldn't hurt as bad.

Why they were complaining about this momentous day was beyond him. They didn't have the symbol imprinted on their spines, on the nerves, so they should be thankful. Kalif had his arms folded, and and walked behind them. Only the Head of the Zhefarovich Family and the Patriarch could see this event. No one else was allowed. Kalif assumed that Asparuh would block the exit with some sort of spell. Kalif was a little relieved that Prodan didn't come along. It must have been tough to find out that the woman had lied all his life. Everyone warned him, but would he listen? No. Needless to say that Kalif was a bit glad that Prodan was just now coming to his senses. He had two kids, not three. Kalif glanced over at Cecily, "I suppose you will be the first, due to the fact you were married longer, and had Elisaveta first."

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

Once more Cecily found herself at the Zhefarovich manor, not here for a small matter nor to acquire anything on her own. On this day she would be marked, forever connected through the ink, the blood, the pain. Intertwined with each and every living and dead member of the Zhefarovich clan. She did this for none of them, save for the man who had stayed behind at their home; Prodan, her lover, the father of her child, her husband. Her heart bled for him, each beat that shook the delicate lace at her breast thumped with furious outrage that such as he could be treated in such a way. For him she would hold her head high and follow through without a whimper. She would show them that he had chosen well, the wife with the dirty blood and she would not dishonor her husband this day.

A nod of her golden head, she bowed to Kalif silently then turned and was once more within the room where she had been granted knowledge of pure joy. The incredibly tall man with silk blonde hair tied back at the nape of his neck stood within. Cecily approached him, flats barely making any sound on the floor and did what she had once vowed she would never do. She knelt to honor the Patriarch, the house, her husband, herself. Rising, skirts fluttering about her knees, Cecily spoke for the first time since arriving. "Bashta, I am ready."

 

[Nicolette Styx]

Ever since Nicolette had that little confrontation with Cecily and James she had been a bit distant from everything lately, it was unknown to her if anyone but her best friend really notice how quiet and serious she had been the past week or so, they probably hadn't at all. Nicolette's lack of a bubbly attitude that she usually had made her unnerved about getting the Zhefarovich family tattoo today, with that small thing she was going to be a part of something she had wanted for so long as well as be linked to so many that had received it before her. Niccy had seen the one on Kalif's back before, so he knew what it looked like, she knew it was going to hurt as well, but that didn't bother her because she had been through pain before as well...it was all just another step in trying to separate herself from her horrible past.

Glancing at Kalif softly she followed Cecily into the room, once in there she spotted Asparuh, the man that she had come to respect despite his harsh heart. Nicolette also knelt as Cecily did before she turned and looked at her friend before sighing softly, her golden eyes cast onto the floor, she would rather not be here at the moment but she knew it couldn't be helped. "So am I." Was the only words she spoke, it was void of any happiness, until she knew what to do about James and how to protect those she cared about, there was nothing for her to be happy or excited about.

 

[Asparuh Zhefarovich III]

The Patriarch was standing before the long bed-like table. Beside him on a metal plate hovering in the air were the necessary equipment to get the job done. Asparuh had a large knife in his hand, staring down at it, before he turned and saw the two victims - or women rather. Asparuh saw that they learned to kneel, which was pleasant to see. He gazed over at Kalif and he nodded at him. With a wave of his hand, a barrier of flames was placed in front of the door, but they were only visible for a moment. They would react as an alarm if someone tried to enter. Asparuh motioned for Cecily to get on the bed with the hand that had the knife in it. "Don't take off anything. It is not required. You will not move, as you will be restrained. This is a delicate process, and one thing cannot go wrong." Asparuh was serious, and while he was holding a knife, it was almost scarier when he had a wand in his hand.

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

Breathe. Cecily lay on the table, green eyes open, staring into the fire. Above her, around her, Asparuh's dark aura tested her own, his large hands touching her skin minimally, strapping her down. She could not fight the facial flinch as he tightened the straps abruptly then moved back, the shine of the blade in her peripheral vision. Breathe. The cold tip touched her back, marking her, slicing through her tanned skin like warm butter. Floating. When she was twenty two, she had tasted her first course of pain. Bearse had been a master in the art form, delivering small aperitifs in the form of small cuffs to her shoulders, then to the back of her head as their marriage progressed. Days after her birthday, giddy from drinks with her mum, she had returned home to a darkened house, the summer sun shining still for hours outside. His name on her lips, curved with welcome, died swiftly in her throat; a blur of movement, a blow to her face, she fell to the floor. Cake intended for him, as he refused to go, spattered the walls. The snow globe, her mother's gift, smashed under a booted foot. Dazed, barely able to fling up thin arms to cover her face, he had delivered the whole meal to her; boot, fist, open hand. Recede. She had withdrawn inside herself, disappeared to a place where reality set itself on hold.

In the present, green eyes slowly blinked, mesmerized by the crackle of the fire. The light, ever present within them, slowly dimmed, until the time to go home. Cecily did not feel the second cut. Not one whimper. Not one curse. A lone tear leaked from her eyes, unseen by those in the room as it pooled under the cheek pressed to the cool table.

 

[Asparuh Zhefarovich III]

Asparuh began the process by strapping her down, and then cut the shirt in half from the back, giving him plenty of room to work. Asparuh mentally measured, staring down at her shoulder-blade. Taking the knife, it sliced through the layers of skin, just an incision to mark where he would need to start the symbol. Then down at the bottom of her shoulder-blade. Blood seeped out from the wounds, but he ignored that. Summoning his wand, it heated up at the end, and Asparuh smirked. The black wand still looked black, but to test the heat, Asparuh touched a bead of blood on Cecily's skin. Instantly, it sizzled and dried. This symbol would be marked through the skin, on the muscle, and possibly engraved in the bone as well. This was advanced magic, and even a slight slip up could cause devastating results. Slowly, Asparuh used the wand to burn through the skin, knowing it was extremely painful, about ten times worse than a muggle tattoo. Though within fifteen minutes of carving the symbol into her back, Asparuh was finished. The wand cooled, and he wiped the blood and excess flesh off of it, and he waved his hand over the shirt, and it was put back together. The symbol was black against her skin, and it would be red and painful for the next few weeks. Much blood had been lost, but not enough to create any body damages. If anything, the pain should be enough to make someone nauseated. Asparuh glanced over at Nicolette, his black eyes telling her it was her turn.

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

Over. It was over with, Cecily had survived and as she returned to herself, the pain was excruciating. Her mouth opened, hands spasmed in their restraints, breath escaping soundlessly from between lips faded to a pale purple. Throughout her life she had done much, sacrificed greatly for others, willingly, unwillingly. When she was healed, she knew she would feel the warm lips of her beautiful husband trace the tattoo as she did his every night. Today she had felt the mark brand itself into the very marrow of her bones. Nausea pooled in her stomach, her chest hurt from being compressed against the table. Yet she had survived it, would be stronger for it and now, as the restraints were removed and she stood on her own once more, it would be her sister's turn. She pulled herself together, moving slowly to sit on the edge of a seat near the window. She could not stand, legs shaking, fine tremors of reaction spreading across her skin. Oh Niccy. She didn't want her to go through it but knew ...she would have to.

 

[Nicolette Styx]

Nicolette could barely watch her best friend and sister get her tattoo from Asparuh, just the whole process reminded of her of all the times she had to watch others get cut or slashed open and experimented on by James, he always made her watch them suffer then expect her to heal them when he was done tearing them apart it was so inhuman that it made her sick just thinking about it. Luckily it hadn't taken long until he was finished with Cecily so she could stop having to worry about how her friend was doing, the look on her face said everything, she wanted nothing more than to just stand up and embrace her friend and tell her that everything was going to be alright, but when Nicolette saw Asparuh's black eyes turn to her she knew it was her turn to get marked. Honestly she had no probably with getting the mark, she felt pride at the thought of belonging somewhere and to such a powerful family at the same time, it was just the memories that it all brought back by being here like this, all the hurtful memories that were coming back when James decided to show his face around.

"Great..." She muttered sighed before her eyes shifted to Kalif, then back to Asparuh. As much as she sort of didn't want to do this she really had to just suck it up and get it over with. Nicolette smoothed her dress and gently stood up from the couch before she took off her sweater to reveal her tone shoulders and back. Nicolette figured that since she was a bit more toned and muscular than Cecily was it would probably hurt a bit more. Wasting no time she walked over to the table like thing and laid down, fully prepared for this to hurt like hell.

 

[Asparuh Zhefarovich III]

Asparuh strapped Nicolette down and took the knife now cleaned to cut slice the back of her dress to reveal her back and her shoulder-blades. Taking the knife, he marked in two places. Blood seeped from the wounds. Asparuh made the wand hot once more, and he said nothing as he started to work on the skin. The skin was burnt and red as blood poured from the tattoo as Asparuh went to work. Asparuh narrowed his eyes at the skin, and when the tattoo was finished, it taking longer than Cecily's, Asparuh lifted the wand to reveal the symbol, black and surrounded by red skin. Asparuh waved his hand and the dress was put back together, and he cleaned the bloody knife and the wand. Dead skin was crusted around the wand but the deed was done. "Now, I suggest you two keep that mark out of the sun for a few days. If it were to get infected, it would prove fatal." Asparuh unstrapped Nicolette from the table, and he folded his arms across his chest.

 

[Nicolette Styx]

The whole time Nicolette was receiving the tattoo her hands were clenched into fists so tight that her nails cut into the flesh of her palm slightly. But she mostly kept quiet except for the an occasional hissing from the immense pain she was feeling, it was so intense that she almost felt that it was worse than the time she had her eyes being changed genetically, both were probably dead even with one another in the pain category. When she was unstrapped and pushed herself up she hissed from the immense amount of pain that she was in, she listened to his words carefully and nodded at his warnings about the sun, she knew more than anything how painfully bad it would be if it got infected. "How long would this take to heal?" She asked when she stood up from the table and flinched, her muscles ached so much that her legs shuttered from the pain, if this was only a small part of the tattoo she could barely imagine how painful it would be to get it on the whole back.

"Ouch...f*ck." Once Nicolette took a step she stumbled a little, luckily she only felt onto her knees and hands before she let out a sigh and slowly pushed herself back up to a standing position. Back over to the couch she gave Cecily a look that clearly said that she was not happy, and not in the mood to be happy for awhile. "Is it normal to feel like you want to pass out." Nicolette ask feeling her whole body begin to quiver from all the pain and she felt herself wobble a little, this was definitely worse than giving birth to the twins...at least she had drugs for that part.

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

Sheer determination stiffened Cecily's legs, bolstered her feet to the floor. The sight of Nicolette falling and rising without any aide nearly broke her where everything before that moment had not. Hesitantly she approached, face chalk white, lips purple tinged, positive the floor itself shook from the tremors of her fatigued body. Though shorter than the other blonde, Cecily gently placed her arm around Niccy's waist, briefly brushed her lips across her friend's cheek. Offering support even though she herself could barely stand from the pain, the shock to her system. She didn't speak, couldn't unyield her vocal chords, her lips turning slightly at the corners in a sad, soft closed mouth smile. She wanted to go home, to be with her husband, but first she would help her friend, her sister, any way that she could.

Only when it was clear that they would be leaving soon could she speak. "Thank you, Bashta," she murmured, taking heed to his instructions. "Kalif, please take me home?"

 

[Kalif Styx]

Kalif nodded at Asparuh when he got the hint to take them home. Now. "It is normal to feel like that when you aren't used to so much." She was acting worse than anyone he had ever seen. He was sixteen and it took over three hours to have the entire mark done. Kalif put one hand on Cecily's arm, and the other on Nicolette's arm. He apparated them to their homes, dropping off Cecily first to her pouting husband before he returned home to a restful evening.

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

Cecily allowed herself to be gently enfolded into her husband's strong arms, the warmth from his body seeping into her, easing the shivers that had coursed through her. She kept a brave face, or at least tried to, throughout the rest of the evening. She fed Elisaveta, cuddled her close and tried to rock her as she normally did before her bed time. Even the small body in her arms pulled at her shoulder and bitterly she handed their baby over to Prodan, soon alone in their room. Gingerly she lay on her side, dressed in her light nightdress, her husband joining her shortly after he put their daughter in her crib for the night. He whispered he was sorry in her ear, wrapping himself around her, holding her as the weeping began. Exhausted, the crying tapered, slowed, until his large hands comforted her into a deep, healing sleep. As she tumbled into slumber, she knew that she would do it all over again, for him. Words she had spoken, so long ago it seemed, passed through her mind; what mattered a few mere inches of her skin when compared to life with him?