Sanria hated him more than she cared to admit. She hated him for taking her away, for making her feel helpless, for hurting Gilean, for ripping apart the tiny bit of family she was so desperately creating. More than all, she hated him for sinking his claws into her mind, working her body like a marionette, forcing a smile from her when all she wanted to do was see him gone. She could tell he had trouble keeping the tent from flickering away, and she knew this was the only saving grace that kept her from being swept up in the riptide that roiled in her mind. She knew Velentham didn't play fair, and knew from their past long gone that he would not stop until he had whatever it was he wanted. In this case, her mind, her heart, her affections. "Stop looking at me like that!"
She looked down. Part of her pitied him, the wild look that would come over his features reminded her of a cornered animal. When she had first seen him, he had been exactly what any woman wanted - charming, handsome, tall, caring, gentle, and kind. She *had* wanted him. Then she learned of his true nature - arrogant, hard, cruel, punishing, and proud. Now, with his being trapped in this realm, he was beyond even that. Velentham had crossed a line; he was literally insane, or fighting it at least. "I'm sorry..." she heard him say, but she didn't bother lifting her eyes. "It's a lot of effort, you know, keeping this place up." It wouldn't have to be if he'd just let her go home. "I'm talking to you." She looked up at him, focusing on the gaunt face and haunted silver eyes that grew intensely heated as they stared back at her. She lowered her gaze and heard his sigh.
She didn't know where they were. It was a place she'd certainly never been, but to have to expend so much magic, it had to be taxing. She couldn't speak, she couldn't do anything but endure. And endure she did - moments where he could force a smile onto her face, moments where he held her to him and she heard the leaping heart galloping in his chest, moments when he'd kiss her and she could do nothing. Her own heart grew heavy. She knew it would only be a matter of time before he would grow impatient and take her somewhere that he could completely dominate her mind. And when he did that, it wouldn't be long after that he would discover the secret she carried, and when he discovered that, she knew, he would likely destroy her.
Captive
She was so near, yet so far away. Velentham had to keep the magics going that kept them from being burned by the super-heated atmosphere around them. The hills of red sand beat against the edge of the bubble he had created, the bubble that kept him from being able to do much other than hold his prize. Though the look on her face, the damned look on her face, the pain and contempt! "Stop looking at me like that!" he finally barked, and she looked away. Damn Gilean for turning her against him. Damn that beast, Colin, too. Damn them all!
Velentham breathed heavily and clenched his eyes and set his jaw. It was only the bubble that was making him irritable - the expenditure of magicthat he had to keep going every moment. He had come off of a magic fight with the beggar, cast a very powerful silence spell on Sanria, had whisked them both away to a desert, and had to keep them alive until his cousin and any other had finally given up hope of locating them. Or at least slowed down the process.
"I'm sorry..." he said, and used more of his ability to create around them a tent. The sound of the sands died down only minutely. At least with an object he could imbue it with some of the magic in his body. And that done, he could have a precious few minutes with his quarry before he had to recharge the magic. "It's a lot of effort, you know, keeping this place up." He smiled. She kept her face turned away. Velentham's face grew cold. "I'm talking to you," he growled. She looked at him. He sighed.
He would have to use more magic, just to make this bearable. And so in the moments between recharging the magic tent, Velentham attempted to break into the mind of his captive. Most of the time she fought, which angered him, but the rest of the time he could manage to get a smile on her lips - even if her eyes betrayed her true outrage. That would go away in time. All in time.
Velentham sat on the ground and pulled her down to him. He held her head to his chest, breathing in her hair. In the moments he had before the tent needed him, he worked on Sanria's mind, coaxing her, soothing her, all while wearing himself down. It had been years since he had exerted so much effort. He managed to kiss her deeply before the tent flickered and he was forced to put his effort there and watch her pull away in disgust. Disgust. That would not do. All in time, he reminded himself, and again turned his attention to matters of their survival.
Velentham breathed heavily and clenched his eyes and set his jaw. It was only the bubble that was making him irritable - the expenditure of magicthat he had to keep going every moment. He had come off of a magic fight with the beggar, cast a very powerful silence spell on Sanria, had whisked them both away to a desert, and had to keep them alive until his cousin and any other had finally given up hope of locating them. Or at least slowed down the process.
"I'm sorry..." he said, and used more of his ability to create around them a tent. The sound of the sands died down only minutely. At least with an object he could imbue it with some of the magic in his body. And that done, he could have a precious few minutes with his quarry before he had to recharge the magic. "It's a lot of effort, you know, keeping this place up." He smiled. She kept her face turned away. Velentham's face grew cold. "I'm talking to you," he growled. She looked at him. He sighed.
He would have to use more magic, just to make this bearable. And so in the moments between recharging the magic tent, Velentham attempted to break into the mind of his captive. Most of the time she fought, which angered him, but the rest of the time he could manage to get a smile on her lips - even if her eyes betrayed her true outrage. That would go away in time. All in time.
Velentham sat on the ground and pulled her down to him. He held her head to his chest, breathing in her hair. In the moments he had before the tent needed him, he worked on Sanria's mind, coaxing her, soothing her, all while wearing himself down. It had been years since he had exerted so much effort. He managed to kiss her deeply before the tent flickered and he was forced to put his effort there and watch her pull away in disgust. Disgust. That would not do. All in time, he reminded himself, and again turned his attention to matters of their survival.
So it seems (3/3)
"No! It was this woman, she is a lich! She must have casted some sort of spell! I sense the evil in her was similar, look at this tattered cloak on the ground, she killed him"
The guard replied "Him? What was under that cloak? A goblin? A dwarf? A human?"
Stunned by the questions Serth answered "I'm.... not..very.......sure".
All of a sudden his throat was at loss for words. He tried to explain what happened, his memory remembers every bit of it but there is just no words coming out.
The second guard yelled "That woman is a lich! She's casting a spell on him!"
When he turned around and looked at her, eyes were glowing and her fangs grew longer, she began to be hostile and bite Serth in the arm. A sudden pause as Serth was trying to grasp the situation, he tried to stab the lich as she distanced herself from them, retreating towards the wall.
Shocking it may seem, this woman has the ability to hold onto walls as if she was a spider. She laughed and said "It's impossible to catch me, the church is watching your every step, no other god than Sephiroth reigns supreme."
Upon conjuring a dark midst she vanished into thin air with echoes of her evil laughter.
Staring blank in the air, the head guard said "We must report this, we need more men in Westbridge, there have been too many sights of this and we are too short-handed to deal with this matter".
As the guards take their leave, he stopped them "Wait! You are from the Order?"
The guards nodded.
"Please tell me, how is it possible for me to join your ranks?"
All the guards stared at him, whispering among themselves. The head guard said "Look for a man dressed with similar armor with us, he is often at the Temple of Life enjoying the scenary. Beware young one, your determination will be tested to the fullest".
The guard replied "Him? What was under that cloak? A goblin? A dwarf? A human?"
Stunned by the questions Serth answered "I'm.... not..very.......sure".
All of a sudden his throat was at loss for words. He tried to explain what happened, his memory remembers every bit of it but there is just no words coming out.
The second guard yelled "That woman is a lich! She's casting a spell on him!"
When he turned around and looked at her, eyes were glowing and her fangs grew longer, she began to be hostile and bite Serth in the arm. A sudden pause as Serth was trying to grasp the situation, he tried to stab the lich as she distanced herself from them, retreating towards the wall.
Shocking it may seem, this woman has the ability to hold onto walls as if she was a spider. She laughed and said "It's impossible to catch me, the church is watching your every step, no other god than Sephiroth reigns supreme."
Upon conjuring a dark midst she vanished into thin air with echoes of her evil laughter.
Staring blank in the air, the head guard said "We must report this, we need more men in Westbridge, there have been too many sights of this and we are too short-handed to deal with this matter".
As the guards take their leave, he stopped them "Wait! You are from the Order?"
The guards nodded.
"Please tell me, how is it possible for me to join your ranks?"
All the guards stared at him, whispering among themselves. The head guard said "Look for a man dressed with similar armor with us, he is often at the Temple of Life enjoying the scenary. Beware young one, your determination will be tested to the fullest".
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