"I don't think we should go on this journey yet," Emalia blurted out. "I think we should visit my uncle and make sure you're going to be... ok."
"Emalia. I'm fine."
"Colin... this is serious. There is the potential for something to go wrong... and you don't know what might or might not set it off. You weren't supposed to actually be alive... no offense. We go to my uncle." Emalia got up and walked to her chocobo. She looked back, noticing that Colin was absolutely not moving.
"I just want to get past all that. i don't want to keep going back and revisiting it. I'm a different person now and I just want to let it be that way."
"Colin," Emalia said with a measure of hesitation. She knew what needed to be done to get him to come. She knew she would have to make certain that he was who he claimed and she knew what would get him to move. "if you come back with me to my uncle, I will marry you as soon as we leave his company. We'll find someone to do the ceremony for us and you will have me completely. But we have to know. We have to be absolutely certain."
"And what if he tells you not to be with me? That I'm too dangerous? He doesn't know me, not the person I am now."
"You have my word - regardless of what he says."
Emalia stretched her mind out to speak to Sandorin. Eventually she made contact with her uncle. A faint tendril of his thoughts struck a chord with hers, and after assuring him of everything being fine, the agreed to meet at her mother's estates. They walked into the small chapel and waited for Sandorin to appear. At the sound of his footsteps, Emalia rushed to him, wrapping him in an embrace. "I have to ask you something."
Sandorin looked over, seeing Colin. "Who's that?"
"Uncle Sandorin," Emalia said, taking his hands in hers to get his attention focused upon her. "That is my fiance and he needs your help."
"Fiance? Well... well congratulation child. I had no idea."
"I'm with child as well." Emalia continued with her tactic. The more her Uncle understood how much Colin was in her life, how much he meant to her, the less likely he would refuse. After all, the fiance and father-to-be to her child...
"A baby too! My goodness. Have I been gone that long?"
The two passed other general information and formalities, before Emalia looked up at Sandorin. "Please, whatever you do, trust in me. Please. Trust me."
Emalia wanted to cringe as the familiar grey eyes from her childhood looked at her with scrutiny. "Emalia... what is going on?"
"You must believe me when I say I love this man and I know he is a good man... a changed man. He's been nothing but good to me, and protective, and faithful... he is a guardian as well." Emalia's mouth began to go dry. "Colin... could you please come over here?"
"No. Emalia... you don't know who this man is."
"I do know... he has told me. And... he is alive now..."
"Alive. No. The spell would not hold. Emalia, this is not a man for you."
Emalia begged Sandorin for help, just to take a moment to look within Colin to be certain that Visha would, indeed, be kept inside. "Help him?" Sandorin nearly barked. "The only way I knew how to 'help him' was to trap him in this body where he couldn't hurt anyone. Now I see how well that worked."
"But don't you understand, he hasn't hurt anyone... at all. He's never been close to doing that... ever."
Colin stood by quetly watching from Emalia's side. He had said little, but Emalia could see from his face the pain and irritation the scrutiny was causing. Sandorin neared Colin, looking into the larger man's face.
"Just what are you up to. Could you have fooled all of them?"
"I'm not up to anything Sandorin. What Emalia tells you is the truth. This is me now. Listen to your niece. Please."
Emalia watched as her Uncle sat in one of the pews, his head in his hands. She felt badly for him, but knew as Colin had mentioned before - the only Colin he knew, was a very bad one - a spirit trapped in a body for eternity unable to harm anyone - and she had released him.
Wool removed
Colin and Emalia walked in silence to the stables in Westbridge. They would not return to the cottage, since Colin had the foresight to bring along all their provisions. They were to buy a couple chocobos and head to the mountains. She could barely contain her malicious laughter at Colin when he fell off of his bird. Part of her felt terrible for this, but the other half of her felt justified, as if he deserved it - this little petty unplanned revenge.
They both rode north until the base of the mountains and paused for Colin to take a drink from his canteen. The birds were still fresh, as was Emalia, but she wasn't wanting another argument, and so when he made the request, she gave in and walked to a nearby group of trees for shade.
The silence seemed to have the effect Emalia had hoped for. Colin stared at his canteen as he spoke. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything. Who you were, what you did, what you taught my uncle, why my mother thought you so dangerous..."
"I went by the name Visha. What i did... I was driven by power, control. I sought it out everywhere, to all ends. And I found there is great strength in the darker magics. Not only was the magic strong, but it inspired fear, respect, control. All things which made it even more desirable. That was how your uncle came to me. He has his own reasons for wanting power. For him he wanted to be able to protect those dear to him. He wanted me to teach him the ways of magic that others would not. And so I did."
Emalia sat there, stunned as Colin went through his story. It was one thing hearing this foreign name that Colin used to refer to himself from before, but hearing that her Uncle went to him to learn such things was quite hard for her to comprehend.
Colin continued to discuss how he had come into the body she knew. "Your uncle helped me to make this, it was his last act of working with me and was going to repay me for all I had taught him. When the process was complete I found two things, though. I was still without magic, and I was different. My lust for power and control was held in check. That was your uncle's doing. He made it so that while my spirit was contained within my new body those things were held in check."
The revelation left Emalia speechless for a moment. She had inadvertently freed a man from a prison by giving him life. "So... they're held in check... but... by what now? I... I mean... y... you are alive."
"That's the beautiful thing. It's not anymore. I have you to thank for so much Emalia. Not only have you shown me love and you have made me truly alive again but through the actions of your uncle and being with you that part of me is gone for good. It's not held in check, it's just not there."
Emalia looked over at Colin, her eyes skeptical and her mind spinning. Just not there? But he had memories of this old life, and it also brought to her mind the questions - what if something happened to her? What if something happened to Brin? What would come out of Colin if anything were to happen...
They both rode north until the base of the mountains and paused for Colin to take a drink from his canteen. The birds were still fresh, as was Emalia, but she wasn't wanting another argument, and so when he made the request, she gave in and walked to a nearby group of trees for shade.
The silence seemed to have the effect Emalia had hoped for. Colin stared at his canteen as he spoke. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything. Who you were, what you did, what you taught my uncle, why my mother thought you so dangerous..."
"I went by the name Visha. What i did... I was driven by power, control. I sought it out everywhere, to all ends. And I found there is great strength in the darker magics. Not only was the magic strong, but it inspired fear, respect, control. All things which made it even more desirable. That was how your uncle came to me. He has his own reasons for wanting power. For him he wanted to be able to protect those dear to him. He wanted me to teach him the ways of magic that others would not. And so I did."
Emalia sat there, stunned as Colin went through his story. It was one thing hearing this foreign name that Colin used to refer to himself from before, but hearing that her Uncle went to him to learn such things was quite hard for her to comprehend.
Colin continued to discuss how he had come into the body she knew. "Your uncle helped me to make this, it was his last act of working with me and was going to repay me for all I had taught him. When the process was complete I found two things, though. I was still without magic, and I was different. My lust for power and control was held in check. That was your uncle's doing. He made it so that while my spirit was contained within my new body those things were held in check."
The revelation left Emalia speechless for a moment. She had inadvertently freed a man from a prison by giving him life. "So... they're held in check... but... by what now? I... I mean... y... you are alive."
"That's the beautiful thing. It's not anymore. I have you to thank for so much Emalia. Not only have you shown me love and you have made me truly alive again but through the actions of your uncle and being with you that part of me is gone for good. It's not held in check, it's just not there."
Emalia looked over at Colin, her eyes skeptical and her mind spinning. Just not there? But he had memories of this old life, and it also brought to her mind the questions - what if something happened to her? What if something happened to Brin? What would come out of Colin if anything were to happen...
Airship Of the Past
Emalia followed Colin closely through the stunted forest, taking note again at just how lifeless everything seemed. The whole place again reminded her of absolute death, but even in death, there was a sense of motion through the act of decay. This was nothing more than the stillness spawned of sick stagnation.
At the top of a small rise, Colin pulled back a few bushes to expose a darkness beyond that Emalia wouldn't have imagined could exist. It was the rift itself and before she could go further, Colin turned to her with a grave face. "This can be very dangerous."
"I don't know that it can be any less dangerous than everything else we've done," Emalia answered, determined not to be treated like a child.
"This demiplane contains many locations and you can easily find yourself in any one of them. I know exactly where we need to go, however, you do not." Colin reached into his pack, pulling forth a long strip of cotton.
"You must wear a blindfold."
"What?"
"Emalia it is the only way to make sure you stay with me and do not accidentally end up somewhere else. Please, you have to trust me."
'Unbelievable,' Emalia thought. 'He must think I'm just a stupid fool.'
"I'll be fine, Colin. Besides, blinding me doesn't lend itself to my not getting lost, you know. I'll just hold your hand, that way I can see you at least if something goes wrong... which I doubt."
"No, you don't understand. The way this works, just by thinking about a place you see too hard can make you end up there," Colin said, shaking his head emphatically.
Emalia had nothing more to say, nothing else to argue. As Colin made it clear, she could abide by his desires, or they could stay. While he spoke it not as a threat, Emalia felt it was one in the same. Clutched against his chest, his hand over her ear to prevent her from even hearing, Emalia felt the squeezing of the rift upon her, once as they entered, once as they exited.
Colin lifted her blindfold and Emalia found herself in the black cockpit of an airship. A throne made of bone gleamed against the darkness, the very walls were so smooth, yet so black - almost as if they were made of the rift itself - solidified. "Who's ship is this?" Emalia asked almost in a trance.
"It is one that I purchased long ago. Emalia, don't we have somewhere to go? There's no need to stay around here."
Still, Emalia walked along the walls, touching the darkness and being amazed that she wasn't absorbed right into it. "Emalia, please, let's go," Colin pleaded.
Before she could go any farther, Colin gripped her arm and spun her to face him. "Emalia, come on, let's go. There's nothing of use here. It's old and best forgotten."
"Is this part of your past?"
"Please. Let's just let it stay that way. We have a journey to take, right?"
Emalia jerked her arm from Colin, irritated and insulted at his insistance that she let things drop. This man wanted her to marry him, to devote her life to him, and he wouldn't open up fully as to who he was? "What is it that you want so badly to hide from me? Don't I have a right to know you?"
Still, Colin refused her, and Emalia shook her head in consternation. She did the only thing she could think to do - allow him to keep his secrets and allow herself to steer clear of anything to do with being the love in his life.
At the top of a small rise, Colin pulled back a few bushes to expose a darkness beyond that Emalia wouldn't have imagined could exist. It was the rift itself and before she could go further, Colin turned to her with a grave face. "This can be very dangerous."
"I don't know that it can be any less dangerous than everything else we've done," Emalia answered, determined not to be treated like a child.
"This demiplane contains many locations and you can easily find yourself in any one of them. I know exactly where we need to go, however, you do not." Colin reached into his pack, pulling forth a long strip of cotton.
"You must wear a blindfold."
"What?"
"Emalia it is the only way to make sure you stay with me and do not accidentally end up somewhere else. Please, you have to trust me."
'Unbelievable,' Emalia thought. 'He must think I'm just a stupid fool.'
"I'll be fine, Colin. Besides, blinding me doesn't lend itself to my not getting lost, you know. I'll just hold your hand, that way I can see you at least if something goes wrong... which I doubt."
"No, you don't understand. The way this works, just by thinking about a place you see too hard can make you end up there," Colin said, shaking his head emphatically.
Emalia had nothing more to say, nothing else to argue. As Colin made it clear, she could abide by his desires, or they could stay. While he spoke it not as a threat, Emalia felt it was one in the same. Clutched against his chest, his hand over her ear to prevent her from even hearing, Emalia felt the squeezing of the rift upon her, once as they entered, once as they exited.
Colin lifted her blindfold and Emalia found herself in the black cockpit of an airship. A throne made of bone gleamed against the darkness, the very walls were so smooth, yet so black - almost as if they were made of the rift itself - solidified. "Who's ship is this?" Emalia asked almost in a trance.
"It is one that I purchased long ago. Emalia, don't we have somewhere to go? There's no need to stay around here."
Still, Emalia walked along the walls, touching the darkness and being amazed that she wasn't absorbed right into it. "Emalia, please, let's go," Colin pleaded.
Before she could go any farther, Colin gripped her arm and spun her to face him. "Emalia, come on, let's go. There's nothing of use here. It's old and best forgotten."
"Is this part of your past?"
"Please. Let's just let it stay that way. We have a journey to take, right?"
Emalia jerked her arm from Colin, irritated and insulted at his insistance that she let things drop. This man wanted her to marry him, to devote her life to him, and he wouldn't open up fully as to who he was? "What is it that you want so badly to hide from me? Don't I have a right to know you?"
Still, Colin refused her, and Emalia shook her head in consternation. She did the only thing she could think to do - allow him to keep his secrets and allow herself to steer clear of anything to do with being the love in his life.
Trapped in A Rift
Emalia again stared up at the ceiling of the cabin in the woods. She had spent the night in the demiplane, having given in to Colin's cajoling and eventual romancing. She looked over at the large man sleeping beside her with a sigh. Why he wanted to prevent her from doing what needed to be done, she didn't know. Had she known where the opening to the rift was, she would have already set off the day prior. Quietly, she rose from the bed and ambled to the window to look back out over the dreary plane. She took a few moments to read over the tablet given her by Jessiah, and she walked it over to the table setting it down once she had finished. She returned to her position at the window, now thinking slowly over her role in all of this. Her resolve wavered but she continued to stare out the window in quiet contemplation. These were the times she came closest to being like her father, turning details over in her mind, examining them in an attempt to make sense of them. Then she drifted back to being like her mother, rash and ready to ignore the signs in favor of the hope she'd win the gamble.
Eventually, Emalia felt the hands of Colin on her shoulders as she was turned around to face him. All he wanted was for her to stay there. If they were to stay, no one would bother them, and no one would bother Brin once she was born. Truthfully, after reading the tablet, the idea sounded appealing. In her mind, she pictured those with Hemelia running through the streets, ripping people limb from limb, and couldn't fathom bringing that about. But would she? Wasn't the disease a gift from The Apprentice? Besides, Grobnak had never done anything like that... it had to have been something different. Something had to have driven those with the blessing to madness. As she and Colin looked it over, though, his concern wasn't so much the balance as it was "so much innocent blood" that had been shed.
"What if you're wrong," Colin asked quietly. "It is a difficult situation. If this is correct, the stakes can be quite high."Emalia looked out the window, almost offended by Colin's question. "I won't be wrong."
"There is no way to tell, is there."
"No... but is there ever a way to tell anything? Nothing is ever certain, is it?"
"I don't know. Some things are."
"Like?" Emalia turned to look at Colin over her shoulder, having found her way to the front window now.
"How I feel about you is."
There would be no more delays. Though Colin tried again to find a way to keep Emalia in the demiplane, she could no longer stay. The journey had to continue. 'Balance,' she reminded herself, 'Balance is at stake. Balance must be restored.'
Eventually, Emalia felt the hands of Colin on her shoulders as she was turned around to face him. All he wanted was for her to stay there. If they were to stay, no one would bother them, and no one would bother Brin once she was born. Truthfully, after reading the tablet, the idea sounded appealing. In her mind, she pictured those with Hemelia running through the streets, ripping people limb from limb, and couldn't fathom bringing that about. But would she? Wasn't the disease a gift from The Apprentice? Besides, Grobnak had never done anything like that... it had to have been something different. Something had to have driven those with the blessing to madness. As she and Colin looked it over, though, his concern wasn't so much the balance as it was "so much innocent blood" that had been shed.
"What if you're wrong," Colin asked quietly. "It is a difficult situation. If this is correct, the stakes can be quite high."Emalia looked out the window, almost offended by Colin's question. "I won't be wrong."
"There is no way to tell, is there."
"No... but is there ever a way to tell anything? Nothing is ever certain, is it?"
"I don't know. Some things are."
"Like?" Emalia turned to look at Colin over her shoulder, having found her way to the front window now.
"How I feel about you is."
There would be no more delays. Though Colin tried again to find a way to keep Emalia in the demiplane, she could no longer stay. The journey had to continue. 'Balance,' she reminded herself, 'Balance is at stake. Balance must be restored.'
Alternate Realism
The light was blinding when Emalia opened her eyes, and that said a lot considering the place she and Colin were. The walls were of a paneled wood that practically begged to sag to the floor in order to relieve itself of its obligation to the aesthetics long gone. It took a bit of effort for her to sit up in the bed, but oddly enough Emalia felt completely rested. "Where are we?" she asked. Colin in that span of time had rushed the distance from the small table to the bedside.
"I know Nephesh said you would be fully recovered but I was so worried. I brought you here. I wanted to make sure you weren't disturbed."
Emalia looked around the room slowly, taking in the rogue beams that stood sentinel behind the sagging panels. They seemed to be angrily standing apart from their weak counterparts, ready to be there for eternity. "Is this your house?" Emalia asked.
"Well, no, it's not exactly. It's a place I knew a long time ago." Colin hesitated only a moment before continuing. "It's an alternate plane.. well, I suppose a demiplane to be exact. The important thing is there's only one way in and nobody but I knows where that is."
Emalia didn't know exactly what to think of the news, and she slid from the bed - the muscles in her legs stiff from her sleep. "Oh, are you hungry, you must be starving. You haven't eaten in nine days."
"No... I..." (Nine days? How could that have...) Emalia looked down to her hand. Still nestled within her fingers was a small rose- colored obelisk.
"I'm fine."
"You can thank Nephesh for that," Colin said.
"It appears to be something he would do." Emalia fastened the obelisk around her neck and looked out the window. The entire scene outside was static. Stunted trees, cloud-covered skies - it was depressing and forboding and devoid of the small things that made life pleasant. Everything seemed to be drained of life somehow, or severely lacking it. "Well, we should be going I suppose."
"Are you sure you want to rush off? After all, you just got out of bed for the first time in over a week."
"Well, outside of being a little stiff - which walking will cure - I'm fine. Nephesh did a wonderful job, even if he didn't ask me if I wanted such a thing."
"I just don't know if it's a good idea."
Emalia turned to look at Colin, her head tilted and her lips pulled into a frown. "Colin, you know what we have to do... I'm not sure why you want to stay.. I mean, I'm fine and-"
"I guess it's just that after everything that happened earlier. And now I finally feel like I got you someplace safe... I'm just reluctant to give that up."
Emalia gave in for a moment, allowing Colin to walk her through the completely silent woods to a lake that looked forgotten by time and nature. The whole area was eerie to her, as though a calm before a storm that would never come. All she could think of was leaving and starting on their trip, but it seemed no matter what she said, Colin stalled. They turned to go back to the cabin after only a short amount of time.
"Emalia... are you sure you want to go back right away?"
"I have a mission to fulfill, Colin."
"I just can't help but feel that the moment we leave there are going to be those trying to step in once again and interfere."
"Well, you are right. They are going to, and constantly too. We're doing something to change the fate of the world, if they can alter it or aid in it, they will."
"I admire you Emalia. You are so brave and convicted in the face of this adversity. If anyone will be able to make a difference in anything I think it is you."
Emalia shuffled on with a shrug. "It's just what has to be done. Balance is what I seek."
"I know Nephesh said you would be fully recovered but I was so worried. I brought you here. I wanted to make sure you weren't disturbed."
Emalia looked around the room slowly, taking in the rogue beams that stood sentinel behind the sagging panels. They seemed to be angrily standing apart from their weak counterparts, ready to be there for eternity. "Is this your house?" Emalia asked.
"Well, no, it's not exactly. It's a place I knew a long time ago." Colin hesitated only a moment before continuing. "It's an alternate plane.. well, I suppose a demiplane to be exact. The important thing is there's only one way in and nobody but I knows where that is."
Emalia didn't know exactly what to think of the news, and she slid from the bed - the muscles in her legs stiff from her sleep. "Oh, are you hungry, you must be starving. You haven't eaten in nine days."
"No... I..." (Nine days? How could that have...) Emalia looked down to her hand. Still nestled within her fingers was a small rose- colored obelisk.
"I'm fine."
"You can thank Nephesh for that," Colin said.
"It appears to be something he would do." Emalia fastened the obelisk around her neck and looked out the window. The entire scene outside was static. Stunted trees, cloud-covered skies - it was depressing and forboding and devoid of the small things that made life pleasant. Everything seemed to be drained of life somehow, or severely lacking it. "Well, we should be going I suppose."
"Are you sure you want to rush off? After all, you just got out of bed for the first time in over a week."
"Well, outside of being a little stiff - which walking will cure - I'm fine. Nephesh did a wonderful job, even if he didn't ask me if I wanted such a thing."
"I just don't know if it's a good idea."
Emalia turned to look at Colin, her head tilted and her lips pulled into a frown. "Colin, you know what we have to do... I'm not sure why you want to stay.. I mean, I'm fine and-"
"I guess it's just that after everything that happened earlier. And now I finally feel like I got you someplace safe... I'm just reluctant to give that up."
Emalia gave in for a moment, allowing Colin to walk her through the completely silent woods to a lake that looked forgotten by time and nature. The whole area was eerie to her, as though a calm before a storm that would never come. All she could think of was leaving and starting on their trip, but it seemed no matter what she said, Colin stalled. They turned to go back to the cabin after only a short amount of time.
"Emalia... are you sure you want to go back right away?"
"I have a mission to fulfill, Colin."
"I just can't help but feel that the moment we leave there are going to be those trying to step in once again and interfere."
"Well, you are right. They are going to, and constantly too. We're doing something to change the fate of the world, if they can alter it or aid in it, they will."
"I admire you Emalia. You are so brave and convicted in the face of this adversity. If anyone will be able to make a difference in anything I think it is you."
Emalia shuffled on with a shrug. "It's just what has to be done. Balance is what I seek."
Blessed Sleep
"Don't worry, I will get rid of them," Colin said with a growl. Emalia was left there upon the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She could hear the sound of a very angry small voice coming from outside of the cottage, but could not clearly make out anything. The worry tugged at her stomach but she was resigned to lay back and wait for Colin to return. It was the sound of small, but determined, footsteps that had her roll her eyes to the door, waiting to see who would enter.
Nephesh came toward the bed, his little face red obviously angry. He held out a note which Emalia had no opportunity to read before Colin spun the little halfling around by the shoulder. "Now listen here. Emalia has been through enough and you will NOT upset her again."
"What did the note say?" Emalia asked, attempting to reach the fallen note before realizing she couldn't. The small boy pushed the note toward her, and as Nephesh and Colin discussed what had happened (which was very one-sided from Emalia's ears, since Nephesh had appeared to have lost his ability for speech), she looked at the handwriting: 'What have you done to father?'
Emalia let her hand with the note drop onto the bed. She felt completely drained, and the daunting task of having to explain anything more plunged her into a deeper area of her soul. As she lay there, Colin had literally lifted Nephesh out of the room, but upon his return, Emalia once again reached into her own soul for the sake of another. She sent Colin off to speak to Nephesh and to offer him the pony. All of this was beginning to hurt each time, and she was having difficulty recovering from every encounter. Soon, the voice of Colin grew faint, the surroundings of the room began to vanish into a haze, and Emalia finally drifted off to sleep - hearing, seeing, and saying nothing more.
Nephesh came toward the bed, his little face red obviously angry. He held out a note which Emalia had no opportunity to read before Colin spun the little halfling around by the shoulder. "Now listen here. Emalia has been through enough and you will NOT upset her again."
"What did the note say?" Emalia asked, attempting to reach the fallen note before realizing she couldn't. The small boy pushed the note toward her, and as Nephesh and Colin discussed what had happened (which was very one-sided from Emalia's ears, since Nephesh had appeared to have lost his ability for speech), she looked at the handwriting: 'What have you done to father?'
Emalia let her hand with the note drop onto the bed. She felt completely drained, and the daunting task of having to explain anything more plunged her into a deeper area of her soul. As she lay there, Colin had literally lifted Nephesh out of the room, but upon his return, Emalia once again reached into her own soul for the sake of another. She sent Colin off to speak to Nephesh and to offer him the pony. All of this was beginning to hurt each time, and she was having difficulty recovering from every encounter. Soon, the voice of Colin grew faint, the surroundings of the room began to vanish into a haze, and Emalia finally drifted off to sleep - hearing, seeing, and saying nothing more.
Whining and Pining
Emalia slept only long enough to restore the most minimal of her energy. The very first thing she saw upon waking, was Colin. He laid by her side, his arm around her, staring down upon her with what she assumed was a mix of pity and worry. She couldn't really speak, and anytime she did her voice was simply quiet and subdued. She couldn't really move either. The whole scene was oddly reminiscent of the first time she and Colin were ever together, though this thought was far from her mind.
"I wish I could make them all just leave you alone," Colin said as he rubbed her arm.
"Me too," Emalia entoned quietly. "I don't think they will, though."
They continued talking, Emalia taking the time to explain to Colin just what she had felt when she "healed" Grobnak. She took time also to assure him that Brin was fine. So irritated at being weak, Emalia tried to rise but found herself unable to. "Emalia, please, just rest for now. Is there something you want?" Colin asked.
"I suppose not. I just hate being so weakened. I wish my father were about. He could perhaps heal me and all would be better."
"Do you know where he is?"
"Chasing my mother," Emalia muttered.
"Oh?"
"You weren't aware?" Emalia turned to look upon Colin.
"No. Should I have been?"
"Well, I thought I told you about it, but perhaps I hadn't. He went north shortly after the Vectorian invasion to help my mother," Emalia sighed in frustration. "He wouldn't even stay for me. And I asked him to."
"I see. I'm sorry. I suppose we aren't the only ones with a journey to make."
Emalia realized at that point just how many people Colin had not been introduced to. So many people in her family didn't know she was with him, or pregnant by him, and the realization made her feel guilty in an odd way. Colin, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind at all. His only thought was wishing no one was around, and that they could simply be left alone. No sooner had he made his thoughts known than a knock sounded upon the door.
"I wish I could make them all just leave you alone," Colin said as he rubbed her arm.
"Me too," Emalia entoned quietly. "I don't think they will, though."
They continued talking, Emalia taking the time to explain to Colin just what she had felt when she "healed" Grobnak. She took time also to assure him that Brin was fine. So irritated at being weak, Emalia tried to rise but found herself unable to. "Emalia, please, just rest for now. Is there something you want?" Colin asked.
"I suppose not. I just hate being so weakened. I wish my father were about. He could perhaps heal me and all would be better."
"Do you know where he is?"
"Chasing my mother," Emalia muttered.
"Oh?"
"You weren't aware?" Emalia turned to look upon Colin.
"No. Should I have been?"
"Well, I thought I told you about it, but perhaps I hadn't. He went north shortly after the Vectorian invasion to help my mother," Emalia sighed in frustration. "He wouldn't even stay for me. And I asked him to."
"I see. I'm sorry. I suppose we aren't the only ones with a journey to make."
Emalia realized at that point just how many people Colin had not been introduced to. So many people in her family didn't know she was with him, or pregnant by him, and the realization made her feel guilty in an odd way. Colin, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind at all. His only thought was wishing no one was around, and that they could simply be left alone. No sooner had he made his thoughts known than a knock sounded upon the door.
Dreams of Renewal (1-2)
His blood ran thick down his arm, his head swimming in anger and sadness at the assault Emalia had made on his honor. He did not lie - he told painful truths... and sometimes, just sometimes, he kept things from people in order to protect them.
He had cut his arm once for each truth he'd wished he'd not had to tell her. Once for each time, and as deeply for each truth as he felt that it had wounded Emalia. He knew that, in time, he would heal - just as Emalia would. He only hoped that it would not take too long - no one has forever.
Then it happened. She lunged forward, reaching for his arm, and latched her hand onto his flesh. The full force of the planet seemed to slam into him, then. Electrical current, the very life-stuff of the world, charged through his body like a flight of dragons. Through the haze of pain, his senses shifted, and he could see the Child, emanating a radiant white light of cascading hues, clutching his arm. Then everything went black.
The world began swimming around him. The darkness gradually faded into light, and light gradually faded into form. His Lord stood before him: The man who had pulled him from the Wall of the False and the Faithless, so long ago. The Apprentice.
Immediately, Grobnak fell to his knees, silence and fear and worship filling every fiber of his being as he gazed upon the hem of his Lord's robe. He dared not speak: he was not worthy. How was this even possible? Was he dead once more? Had Emalia killed him?
The Apprentice held a hand over Grobnak's head, indicating that he should rise. His Lord was much taller than him - rising nearly a full two feet above him. Grobnak surveyed his surroundings and knew that he was no longer in Faerun. The sky above was a scintillating bluish purple, the trees were a whitish yellow with softly blue leaves, and each step made a noise as the red moss that grew upon the ground absorbed his weight. He could see the waves in the wind, and he was certain that he was bearing witness to The Rebirth.
"When will my sleep end?" The Apprentice asked, the deep pits of his eyes looking to Grobnak questioningly, as he placed his hand on the daemon's shoulder and walked past him. Grobnak rose to his feet as his master began walking away - the sounds of the red moss tracing his steps - looking on without an answer. In a blur of color and dream, the moment faded and another one emerged in its stead...
It was later. Night had fallen and Grobnak found himself sitting on an ornate bench made from a stone he had never seen, a bowl of hot liquid in his hands. Surveying his surroundings, he watched as white flames licked the bottom of a kettle at the center of the building he was in. Again, he was reminded of the wonders that Rebirth would offer. The Apprentice was sitting calmly beside a small stack of tree bark, performing an activity that appeared to be curing the material, as if it were animal skin, only now The Apprentice wasn't the same. It was Halethiel - the founder of all Faithful - he was speaking to, and it was The Apprentice, both at once in his foggy mind.
"It is her destiny, Lord Usurper," he whispered, his voice barely recognizable even to himself, as he told the tale of how Emalia had killed him, her pregnancy, and her quest to find the Temple of Light. What did it matter, he told himself, if he was dead any way? Halethiel had been dead for many hundreds of years - at least this time, he told himself, he was not rotting on the Wall of the False and the Faithless. Then, in another blur of color and dream, the moment faded once again, yet another moment in time emerging to replace this one...
He saw an image of a child, playing with his Lord, happily. There was something both dark and light about the girl as she giggled, The Apprentice tossing her about in his arms - a grim smile on his disease-ravaged face. Grobnak could see Halethiel's wrists as he laid on the hill, the red moss about the ground whispering to him in a thousand voices of comfort and renewal as it enclosed him in a warm embrace, and he began to feel contentment for what felt like the first time in his life.
Then he awakened, gasping for breath, greeted by others of the Faithful around him, and the full assault of reality began its assault once again on his tired mind. They needed the Swords still, and to find the Temple. For the sake of the Great Realms, he only hoped they would not be too late.
He had cut his arm once for each truth he'd wished he'd not had to tell her. Once for each time, and as deeply for each truth as he felt that it had wounded Emalia. He knew that, in time, he would heal - just as Emalia would. He only hoped that it would not take too long - no one has forever.
Then it happened. She lunged forward, reaching for his arm, and latched her hand onto his flesh. The full force of the planet seemed to slam into him, then. Electrical current, the very life-stuff of the world, charged through his body like a flight of dragons. Through the haze of pain, his senses shifted, and he could see the Child, emanating a radiant white light of cascading hues, clutching his arm. Then everything went black.
The world began swimming around him. The darkness gradually faded into light, and light gradually faded into form. His Lord stood before him: The man who had pulled him from the Wall of the False and the Faithless, so long ago. The Apprentice.
Immediately, Grobnak fell to his knees, silence and fear and worship filling every fiber of his being as he gazed upon the hem of his Lord's robe. He dared not speak: he was not worthy. How was this even possible? Was he dead once more? Had Emalia killed him?
The Apprentice held a hand over Grobnak's head, indicating that he should rise. His Lord was much taller than him - rising nearly a full two feet above him. Grobnak surveyed his surroundings and knew that he was no longer in Faerun. The sky above was a scintillating bluish purple, the trees were a whitish yellow with softly blue leaves, and each step made a noise as the red moss that grew upon the ground absorbed his weight. He could see the waves in the wind, and he was certain that he was bearing witness to The Rebirth.
"When will my sleep end?" The Apprentice asked, the deep pits of his eyes looking to Grobnak questioningly, as he placed his hand on the daemon's shoulder and walked past him. Grobnak rose to his feet as his master began walking away - the sounds of the red moss tracing his steps - looking on without an answer. In a blur of color and dream, the moment faded and another one emerged in its stead...
It was later. Night had fallen and Grobnak found himself sitting on an ornate bench made from a stone he had never seen, a bowl of hot liquid in his hands. Surveying his surroundings, he watched as white flames licked the bottom of a kettle at the center of the building he was in. Again, he was reminded of the wonders that Rebirth would offer. The Apprentice was sitting calmly beside a small stack of tree bark, performing an activity that appeared to be curing the material, as if it were animal skin, only now The Apprentice wasn't the same. It was Halethiel - the founder of all Faithful - he was speaking to, and it was The Apprentice, both at once in his foggy mind.
"It is her destiny, Lord Usurper," he whispered, his voice barely recognizable even to himself, as he told the tale of how Emalia had killed him, her pregnancy, and her quest to find the Temple of Light. What did it matter, he told himself, if he was dead any way? Halethiel had been dead for many hundreds of years - at least this time, he told himself, he was not rotting on the Wall of the False and the Faithless. Then, in another blur of color and dream, the moment faded once again, yet another moment in time emerging to replace this one...
He saw an image of a child, playing with his Lord, happily. There was something both dark and light about the girl as she giggled, The Apprentice tossing her about in his arms - a grim smile on his disease-ravaged face. Grobnak could see Halethiel's wrists as he laid on the hill, the red moss about the ground whispering to him in a thousand voices of comfort and renewal as it enclosed him in a warm embrace, and he began to feel contentment for what felt like the first time in his life.
Then he awakened, gasping for breath, greeted by others of the Faithful around him, and the full assault of reality began its assault once again on his tired mind. They needed the Swords still, and to find the Temple. For the sake of the Great Realms, he only hoped they would not be too late.
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