Is Weird…

Hilda the red haired Frost Giantess and Gilda, her brown haired twin, listen as the purple eyed wood elf lass recounts what she remembered of her former life. It was vague in some parts due to the fact that the elfin woman no longer could understand the reason for it. Wood elves customs seemed . . . .cleaner and much more honest than the squalid, underhanded things she now could (dimly) recall from her former life. That and her memories, while present, have been highly fragmented after everything that had befallen her so of COURSE recall would be difficult!

She did the best she could, sometimes substituting elfin equivalents for terms that are beyond her recall for some reason.

Basically, she recalls that she and her family were rather well off in the stomping order of things, what with her mother being the High Chieftess of her Amazonian Tribe . . . Er. . . Kingdom of Aqualaria.

She recalls that she had been named Belinda and her family name was . . . Thessa-something.

Her mate (a delightful and virile male, despite being merely human) had been named Jarlath and he had a . . .gift with magic. He was a . . . not a shaman but something else. Something less emotion/belief driven but methodical.

“A mage,” Hilda guessed, causing the wood elf to snap her finger and agree.

Jarlath was a mage and also of high rank, though the head of his family was more of second in line and advisor of the increasingly senile High Chieftian of his tribe. She vaguely recalled something about a beloved sibling having gone off by slay a dragon and was presumed slain himself. The name of the sibling escaped Nightfall right at the moment (much to her chagrin). She did know it was a different dragon than the one SHE had gone off to kill.

It had been a matter of blood, she stated flatly. The beast (apparently the mate of the dragoness who’d done THIS to her) had attacked and sacked the royal caravan her sister had gone missing. Presumed captured and killed by the beast she’d gone off to slay in vengence, much against her mother’s wishes. She had listened in on the training that her sister (herself a “proper” dragonslayer) and knew enough of the ins and outs. The defenses.

She had the skills, and enough LUCK to do it.

Enough to kill the dragon but not enough to have not overlooked the male dragon’s mate…

She couldn’t recall the neighboring kingdoms and couldn’t care less about that nonsense now. All she wanted was the remains of her family, her cubs Harry and Cedric, back in her arms.

Granted, her marriage to Jarlath may have started off for mere sakes of politics, to bind Jarlath’s nation (who’d fallen upon hard times due to mismanagement and just poor luck) with her tribe!

Her Chieftess was actually running both tribes. . . .er . . .kingdoms in actuality. She was the “Queen” of the Amazonian Nation of Aqualaria, but was also regent of that OTHER kingdom. Ruler of it in all but name being that the King was now upon his deathbed and all obvious (and suitable) heirs had either gone missing or . . .had dire things befall them.

“I suppose you could call it also the Amazonian Nation as well since dear ‘mother’ has it in the palm of her hand and shan’t let go,” Nightfall sneered.

She’d not been close with mother for a very long time now, despite public appearances to the contrary. All for the sake of the peasants and aristocracy, but in reality she loathed the woman. Was much closer to her father (who she was nearly losing her religion trying to even remember his NAME right now).

“Allaria!” Nightfall blinks, suddenly having recalled that neighbor. Laughing slightly, she continues while hardly noticing the startled looks the giants give. “Ah yes, might as well call it the Amazonian Nation of Allaria. Mother soon will make it official and the Great Kingdom will only be a fond memory or just a name on the old maps.”

Nightfall muttered something about manipulative she-dogs and such, only to finally notice the giants staring.

“What?” she asks slowly.

“Uh . . .,” Gilda manages before gathering herself.

Deciding to try a more forward and honest tract (the elf appeared to loath anything but blunt honesty, even if tact was called for at times) after glancing over at her sister who nods, agreeing with her twin she relays the crux of why she and her sister are kind of adventuring around as they are, seeking employment.

Gilda explains to the wood elfin lass that they’d had this odd dream. They had dreamt that they were Lady Astra D'Honaire, a dragon slayer knight in service to the Queen of the Amazonian Nation of Allaria.

Lady Astra had been tasked by her Queen to slay the mean old Dragon . . .

“But that’s about all we recall but that and other things have lead us to believe . . .that at least ONE of us was this Astra woman,” Gilda finished up, looking down at the wide eyed but silent wood elf woman.

She silently thanked whatever dieties looking over them for this windfall. Through this elf perhaps more information could be garnered to unlock the mystery of her and her sister’s condition, perhaps. Maybe this elf had known this Lady Astra D’Honaire enough to perhaps tell them . . . About her. Maybe then perhaps they’d be nearer to discovering who they really were?

She was about to ask if anything else could be told, to once and for all put to rest (one way or another) those pending questions over her and her sisters identity when Fate had to throw them a curveball.

Well, Nightfall’s memories are rather spotty at best before becoming an elf. But that’s not the problem here.

Nightfall’s elfin heart and soul is looking at the brown haired giant before her. Nightfall’s mind made a connection with what the giantess had said and . . .something goes snafu.

Elves are magical creatures. Especially where it comes to affairs of the heart. Nightfall’s heart looks through her elfin host’s eyes into the brown haired giantess. Her soul is weighed and measured and . . . With the flash from the symbol upon Gilda’s forehead a wrong connection is made. A permanent wrong magical/emotional/spiritual connection is made.

“Sister?” Nightfall whispers faintly, clearly floored at this latest development. “Astra-elestra? You’re alive!?”

Whatever objections and doubts are swept aside by a huge RUSH of emotion within Gilda’s mind as the magical nature of an elfin heart FORCES her to become what Nightfall believes her to be!

Gilda. Formerly a human male known as Frederigo D’Honaire yada yada. Now twin sister of the red haired frost giantess named Hilda. Now also . . . The long lost and loving sister to an elfin lass named Nightfall.

“Sis?” Hilda blinked, sudden joy sweeping her heart as she lept over and swept Nightfall into a bruising, loving embrace.

“I have a SISTER!!” she screamed to the stars, only to blink at the gasping sound Nightfall makes.

“Air,” the wood elf gasps. “Need air!”

Blanching, forgetting her own strength Hilda immediately drops Nightfall, who stumbles away and pulls in massive amounts of oxygen, only to pause in surprise as yet something again goes haywire. The mark of the fey strikes again!

Hilda and Gilda share a magical link through those symbols on their heads as well as the virtue of being twins. A bond has formed between one giantess and the elf so by that bond between giant sisters so to does that bond suddenly reach out and ensares the elf with the other giantess.

It’s a fantasy world so just nod and accept that, okay?

Suddenly, a very confused elfin heart finds that she suddenly has TWO long lost sisters named Gilda’s symbol flashes along with the similar appearing one that’s suddenly been magically branded upon the wood elf’s forehead.

So, to recap? Nightfall now believes in mind, body, and soul that Hilda is her long lost sister Astra. But her heart also believes that Gilda is also Astra (much to the confusion of both Gilda and Hilda). Both Frost Giants now have a dawning realization (false realization or not) that they must have been this Astra. It doesn’t bother them anymore, the thought of have ever been a lowly human being. Doesn’t not matter at all who they’d been, the gods and goddesses (or whatever) had corrected that oversight from birth and they were now in their proper forms!

Or . . . Perhaps to be a proper family maybe they should fix this and become wood elves themselves? Or maybe talk Nightfall into finding some mage with them and having her become a frost giantess as well?

But that was AFTER they got some means of helping dear Nightfall! Her cubs had been stolen by that bitch dragon and it was upon THEM to help her!

Oh, perhaps they could go crawling to their "dear" Mother (who they still don't really remember but by what Nightfall muttered sounded rather nasty). But only as a last ditch option. For surely in the course of things the Mother will demand that her wayward daughters be returned to their "rightful" human form before even lifting a finger to rescue the children, right?

No, they didn't want to be human again, thank YOU! Neither the giants nor the wood elf wanted that! This they all knew within their own hearts.

That meant outside (perhaps shadowy) help. Mercenary mages would do almost anything for gold if enough was offered. Maybe even enough to help with the rescue of the children.

Heck, they'd need to force a DRAGON to tell them where she'd stashed them. What form she'd changed them into and . . .

Much to do and gods only knows how much time to do it before it was too late! Much to plan and brainstorm, them and their long lost sister. But first...

“But . . . You can’t both be my sister?” Nightfall protests weakly, looking back and forth between the Frost Giantess who have love in their eyes.

“We can,” Hilda says softly, taking one hand of the elfin woman into her own.

“We will,” Gilda says, taking the other hand into her own. “We are now.”

1. “Iss weirrd,” Braveheart croaks in befuddlement, watching this take place. “But iss good.”

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