The End is the Beginning, Part Two
Beyond Dominia: The Role Playing Mill: The End is the Beginning, Part Two
By Elrohir (Elrohir) on Friday, June 15, 2001 - 10:27 am:
The light was brighter now. Brighter than it had been in a long time. No amount of hatred could cause blindness to obscure light such as this. Its pull had brought them now much closer together. Revenge would be sweet.
May 12, 795 - TR
Even as they traveled north to Deep Shadow, Thrakkiss pondered the events of his own strange return to Phaema. He remembered the searing fire as his mind and body had been wrenched from Tanarak, on the 83rd plane of Rabiah. It was a violation of his self that he would not allow to go unpunished. He needed only to find the one responsible. Since it had returned him to Phaema, he knew two things: that it had exceptional power even he would be hard-pressed to counter, and that it must be here, otherwise it should not have brought him to this land.
He had already been to the destroyed waste of Whayn-Fharh and was making for Deep Shadow, learning what he could of Fatestop in his short time on the plane when he encountered Jaron and rescued him. He recognized the boy now, or at least his lineage. It was the eyes that gave him away. Fathered by Elrohir and birthed by Siran Drauka, the youth was the child he fancied he should have had, if Siran had not loved the other.
Unmistakably, however, was also Gandalf's touch on the boy. Though he knew Gandalf and Elrohir had been friends, his last thoughts were that they were estranged. No amount of reconciliation could bring him to believe Gandalf would raise Elrohir's child. It was apparent that such was the case as he observed the boy walking, his carriage and mannerisms. Though the boy was mute, he conveyed much with his expressions and gestures. His mind spoke of deeper understandings.
Jaron held a great deal of potential due his lineage. With the threat of Fatestop looming, Thrakkiss hoped to harvest Jaron's powers to compliment his own, and so doing, get himself away from this place. He held little love for the world anyway, and saving it was not his job. But he knew Shadow, the Dark One himself, had returned, harvesting a power he coveted, and was sure he could use to leave the plane. The lines of mana were currently in chaos due to the activation of Fatestop. At great cost, he could leave, but it seemed easier to right what was wrong and leave on his own.
Kay-ti's little treehouse was a lot more cramped than it should have been. It had been small enough to house Acytuib and herself, but now it also contained her brother, Cre-chi, and the father of her child, SLAYER. Unknown to her, the serpentlike Tal'n slithered silently through the branches keeping watchful vigil on SLAYER.
It was all too much, too fast. Memories long sundered from her mind were erupting with such violent cacophony she was left dumb and speechless. In the span of a few days, her idyllic existence had been shattered, first by gradual re-emergence of memories covered by Tara, then by sudden reminders of the truth when fragments of the past suddenly burst forth into reality before her. Everything that she had gradually become aware was wrong had proved true when SLAYER's arrival had overshadowed her brother's return.
Tears and dirt had smudged her attractive face, as SLAYER asserted his role as her master. He thought little of her, except to be his whore to satisfy his needs. He had done so before, abducting her and raping her, the result being Acytuib, bastard half-demon/half-elf that had rapidly grown due to the chaotic force that was his father.
SLAYER had been cooped up so long with Nitsud that he was glad to find some...release...for his tension. She had shrieked far into the night as he used her, reveling in her pain and his own lust, and pleased with the revulsion he elicited from the bound and gagged Cre-chi. Then he had gone at it again in the morning and -wonder of wonders!- Childlike Acytuib, not comprehending (as always) had taken similar advantage of his prone mother. SLAYER reveled at the perversion and laughed as Cre-chi, watching from the ground, vomited and had to reswallow it on account of the gag.
Nothing was better than this homecoming.
Aerlin woke to the chill wind peeking its way into the folds of her cloak. She was nestled next to Sage Advisor, acutely aware of the situation's inappropriateness, but was forced to be so near him by circumstance. Though it was late spring, edging closer to summer, the two were trapped in a cave, bound by the three feet of snow which had fallen just outside.
Sage began slowly to stir, but the creep in his muscles showed his weariness and how the cold affected him in his advancing age. He had been little more than a vegetable since the storms started, apparently an effect of either the Xidani or Shadow's return to the world. Fatestop was having far greater consequences on the world at large than she was prepared to admit.
Lost, for all intents alone, and confused, she was left to figure out how to get out of here. She had no idea where Sage had brought them, and he did not say while his mind was still with him. But it was gone now. She had cried out to her brother in the night, but knew he could not hear her. Darkness was the essence of her feelings now, moods tainted by her short time with Fuer Grisse ost Drauka. Hunger also pained her, for they had eaten no food in days and were succumbing to its weakening effect. If only the snow would melt! Then she had an idea.
Its tang was in the air. It was familiar, and loved.
It had not been loved before the wars.
It had not been loved before it knew death.
It had not been loved before it knew hate.
But now it knew hate. And it was angry.