An Average Day (3)
I uh...tried writing the characters appearance much more in detail this time. Please leave a comment on whether it's good or not.
***
Tain could feel his heart fluttering, like a girl meeting her crush.
"Mother..." he muttered under his breath. His ever so loving mother, Duchess Maven Aried Polarias, beckoned him to come closer to her—which he did so without a hesitation.
Duchess Maven Aried Polarias—a beautiful woman around her mid-40s—diagnosed with an incurable illness that paralyzed her lower half just a few days after Tain's birth. Despite her illness, and her age, she had a youthful appearance, and was considered a beauty among her peers.
Her long, hazel hair cascaded down her back, like silk used to weave the gods' outfits. Her pair of golden eyes gave off the impression that one was looking directly at the sun—without most repercussions—admiring the majestic aura that it exuded.
The colour of her skin was as clear as porcelain, and although people could tell she never wore any form of makeup just by looking at her once—her face held no blemishes and displayed a somewhat graceful appearance along with her soft features that perfectly showcased the mature and motherly aura emanating from her captivating appearance.
To top it all off, she had quite arguably—the greatest figure any women could have ever asked for—with curves that further enhanced her terrifying beauty—a pair of big—mountainous almost jugs—dangling down from the chest area—barely being contained by a sheet of cloth—and hips wide enough to wanting to tear through the dress she wore.
Tain happily sat on his mother's lap like he always had—while humming a particular game's theme song—one that resembled the soundtrack of the games' he used to play in the past—and bobbing his head according to the rhythm of his humming.
Maven smiled seeing her sweet little honeybun enjoying himself. Stretching one of her arms outward, she picked up a storybook she had left on top of her bed since last night.
"Tain." She called his name with the soft voice of hers that many men had desired to hear on a daily basis.
"Yes, mum?" he asked while staring at her with the pair of seemingly innocent eyes that he had.
'How cute~" she thought while smiling inwardly.
"Shall we continue where our story last ended?" The book she held being opened and showcased to him.
Nodding his head like a little child, Tain said "Yes!" in a thrilled voice.
"The woodcutter befriended the gnome..."
...
"...and they lived happily ever after. The end." Maven said happily, as she closed the book.
Looking beneath her, Maven found Tain asleep on her lap. Her soft voice had soothed her son into a deep slumber. A smile etched onto her face, as she began to caress his hair with her soft, dainty hands.
A maid—Lisa—entered the room—holding a tray that had a teapot, and a teacup present on it—with intricate details engraved onto the items.
With elegant steps, Lisa carefully made her way to a small desk situated just a few inches away from Maven's current spot.
"...Madam." Lisa unexpectedly opened her mouth— startling Maven and breaking the quiet atmosphere.
"Yes, Lisa?" Maven asked while still caressing her son's hair.
"...Will the young master be alright?" Lisa asked with a hint of guilt residing within her tone.
"...It's regrettable but—" she hesitated for a moment. "It's for his sake."
"But the young master might not be able to handle it!" Tears began to welled up in her eyes.
Maven stopped caressing her son, and turned her gaze directly towards Lisa. "...There's nothing else to do. If not...he would die right now."
The entire room grew silent—silent enough for the howls of wolves to be heard from afar.
Lisa, turning her back bitterly, walked out of the room while stomping her foot—expressing the resentment she had for the madam.
Once the door to her chamber had closed, tears began to flow down from Maven's eyes, dripping onto Tain's spotless skin.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry my child..." Maven uttered in a dejected tone while whimpering at the same time.
Her whimpering soon turned into wailing, as she embraced her son one last time—knowing full well that she might not see him again.
"Tain, my child." Her voice hoarse. "Please forgive this foolish mother of yours." She planted a soft kiss his forehead.
...
Maven's eyes had turn bloodshot after crying for nearly an entire hour nonstop. Her son was now laid on top of her bed—sleeping ever so peacefully—ignorant to his mother's cries.
Wiping the remaining tears off her eyes, Maven muttered "...System." under her breath.
A greyish holographic screen—floating in midair—emerges from thin air, and positioned itself in front of Maven's flushed face.
[Welcome to the 'Curse System'!]
"...Status."
[Name: Maven Aried Polarias] [CC:???]
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-Age: 46 [Shop]
-Active Skill: ??? [Inventory]
-Passive Skill: ??? [Quest]
-Stat: HP: ???
STR: ???
INT: ???
SPD: ???
-Condition: Paralyzing Curse
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[Paralyzing Curse]
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-Description: A curse that causes the user to be slowly paralyzed, until their organs loses functions, and they wither to death.
-Type: Bounded Curse
-Time Limit: ∞
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Letting out a sigh, Maven's eyes darted towards her sleeping son—recalling both the bitter and sweet memories they had made together.
She then averted her gaze and looked at the two crescent moon; one blood red and the other light yellow—a few centimeters apart from eachother from her perspective.
'Even when I'm like this, you still didn't come.' Maven reminiscent the days she had spent with the duke—long before she had given birth to Tain.
The duke was sent to the Snowhell Valley due to the emperor's order. It has been over four years since he had gone there—a day before Tain's birth.
A bitter smile could be seen etched onto Maven's face, as she pondered whether her husband was still alive or not.
...
Situated somewhere faraway from Duke Gide Aried Polarias's mansion, a group of no more than twenty men—can be seen riding monstrous-looking horses—with canine-like teeth protruding out of their mouth—a large, singular horn—similar to that of a unicorn, albeit black— protruded from the forehead of these so-called horses—and a thick, ruffled, black mane that had the same texture as human hair.
The men were all cladded with armour and had a sword sheathed around their waist—while also following a single man—presumably their leader.
The leader's horse was more horrific than the others, yet also looked more majestic than ever—giving the impression of a monarch. The leader donned a black-colored armour—resembling coal almost—with a dragon-like face design made from gold—carved onto his chest plate, and a massive broadsword attached on his back.
The area they scouted was a snowy region notorious for accomodating vicious, cold blooded monsters that lurked during the night—hence the name—Snowhell Valley. The group of men truged through the snowy expanse, their breathes visibly in the frigid air. The rampaging snowstorms that seemed to go on forever and ever, obscured their vision, and coated their armour with a layer of snow.
A few men felt hopeless with their current situation. After all, just a few minutes ago—a few of their members were attacked and killed by the monsters that lurked in the area. To rub salt on the wound, there were also crevices and slippery ice patches hidden beneath the snow.
Ever since they had arrived here, things had started to go downhill. The group that once had over two-hundred skilled combatant and healers—quickly plummeted over the span of four years—either dying due to the cold, suicide, or the monsters that skulked beneath the thick layer of snow.
The moment the emperor had command them to scout the Snowstorm Valley, it was—in essence— the same as giving them the death sentence. They wanted to rebel against the emperor, and start a revolution against the entire empire right there and there. But they didn't. Not because they couldn't—but because they didn't want to disturb the peace that the empire currently upheld.
The empire had a long, notorious history of waging war against others, rebellions occuring, and terrorist attacks. It had been a decade since any major event had transpired. Thus, even if they had to die, the group of men didn't want to witness their beloved hometown being engulfed in chaos.
The group of men continued to march and navigate through the treacherous terrain. Despite the harsh winter, all of them were determined to make it out alive, and reunite with their family.
Amidst the blizzard, the leader pulled out an old, bronze pocket watch from his horse's mane. Opening the watch, a cut out picture of Maven Aried Polarias's face could be seen. Clenching the pocket watch close to his chest, he felt a sense of unease growing deep within his heart.
'Don't worry. I'll survive. I'll be back as usual. I hope you'll smile while greeting me. It's not time for me to die yet.'
...