Sanria sank into the bathtub at her home. Though Sandorin and Colin were nearby, she felt nothing would change if she took a few minutes to collect her fleeing thoughts. Her talk with Lithanus, Throm's son, had left her feeling confused, worried, angry, and more than anything, afraid. They had no idea where Throm was, and with his having given black makou to Emalia, Colin turning out to be -at least part- of some evil entity, and Emalia seeming to have vanished off the face of Toril all together - Sanria needed this moment more than ever.
The bubbles popped in a steady hiss around her as she finally touched the bottom of the tub. Sanria leaned back and closed her eyes, letting out a deep sigh. Her thoughts brushed over the fact that both she and Lithanus had discussed - no body. Emalia couldn't be dead, otherwise her essence would have been detected or a body located... and neither had come to pass. No one could locate Emalia, and that could be viewed both as a good thing... and a bad.
Sanria's mind then shifted to Throm. Applying the selfsame logic, she knew he could not be dead. There was no body, there was no sense of his essence. But why? Why had he gone off without a word to her, again? Indeed, had he gone of his own will, and was he now in the same place that Emalia was?
While the hot water did rest her tight muscles, Sanria still had a few tears slide down her cheeks. She pulled a wet hand from the water to rest it upon her forehead, sending rivulets of water along her skin and in the same channels as her tears. Why was this happening to her again? Was it something she had done to offend the Gods? She began to fully contemplate breaking off her engagement to Throm (if she ever found him to do such a thing), and suffering only the loss of love rather than the loss of a lover, even though it was already taking place.
Sitting up, Sanria hunched to where her tired face had almost hit the water and began to sob. Memories, hopes, dreams - each and all danced through her head in a parade of visions until one voice broke through the muffled voices of thought. It came to her like a giant bell ringing clearly through the air. 'Sanria...'
Whatever self-loathing and piteous feelings Sanria held for her situation fled like night at the touch of dawn. She lept from the tub, water flying in spatters upon the floor. She nearly fell to the ground, and snatching her towel, she wrapped it around her body and sped to the door. 'THROM!'
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Showing posts sorted by relevance for query label:RPnote label:Throm. Sort by date Show all posts
Amidst The Ruins (Part I-II)
The smell of smoke and burning flesh lay heavy upon the air. Occasionally a burst of flame would accompany an earth shaking jolt bringing forth the very sounds of shifting rubble. Within the blurred world in which such chaos was unleashed, the form of a tall man with long white hair could be made out. A long slender sword at the man's side glistened in the firelight, suggesting the promise of clean destruction and the sweet release of death. The strange man turned slightly, an unpleasant smile twisting at one corner of his mouth in the manner of one assured of their own superiority. Turning away, the man began to slowy transform...growing. And with him too grew the room, keeping to scale with the monstrosity which now lorded over the chamber. Completely gone was the white haired man, leaving now the horrific view of a creature massive in size. Bittersweet was the creature's aura, terrifying in power while at the same time exuding a strange air of comfort...comfort to those who served. A voice called out weakly. A voice that Throm barely recognized to be his own.
"Mother..."
The part of his mind which still grasped at the elusive foothold of reason ventured immediatly that it must certainly not be his mother of which he spoke. His own mother had passed back into the Lifestream many many years ago, and all that aside, her name held no reason to be here of all places. Yet another voice cooed smoothly into the darkness. Throm recognized this one as well, though it was most definately not his own.
"Yes...Mother. She was with you no doubt?"
Throm blinked his eyes hard. He grew weary of these dreams...too often was he finding himself within them these days. As his eyes began to focus on his surroundings, a dull numbing pain filled every corner of his body. He groaned aloud as he slowly sat up. He was in his Lab...or what remained of it rather. The large table which had spanned the course of his room, now was completely shattered. Probably shattered from his impact upon it, Throm noted as he sat directly center of the rubble. His mind reeled as he attempted to remember exactly what it might have been that brought him to this state. As his own memory went into overdrive, he caught sight of a cloaked figure hunched beside the now broken archway at the head of the room. Instinctively, Throm's hand shot to his side only to find that his sword had been knocked from his side in whatever catastrophe had occured here. Speaking, Throm's voice came out horse, and in a near whisper.
"Seventy Seven..."
Straightening the figure slowly shambled towards him, coming to a stop only when it'd come too close for Throm's own personal comfort. The figure too spoke in a whisper, though this one forced by the raspy nature of it's voice.
"I've been called worse."
"Have you come to set fire to the rest of my home?"
Drawing back slightly, the cloaked figure crossed it's arms about it's chest. When it spoke, it's voice approached that of an odd kind of reverence. "I apologize for anything I have done to cause harm to you. Please know that I did these before I knew us to be brethren joined by our Mother."
Throm stood shakily, gasping slightly at the increased pain. He leaned heavy upon an upright leg of the broken table. Bursting into an unexpected flurry of bitter laughter he shook his head.
"You are not my brother Seventy Seven...the notion that you and I share the same blood offends me. To the Nine Hells with you...you and you're Mom."
The cloaked figure drew back slightly as if surprised by Throm's response. Slowly stepped backwards towards the broken archway, and though Throm could not see it's face, he could hear the sneer in Seventy Seven's voice.
"Blood? No. However we no doubt share the same genetic material now..."
It raised a withered hand pointing directly at Throm's chest. The figure's breath came hollow and raggedy...perhaps in rage, perhaps in the effort of speaking so much.
"You put yourself so high above us uth Bannon. However, do note that none of those within my cast have given Black Makou to innocents...nor have we attacked the Lifestream directly as you have."
The figure chuckled, it's raspy voice appearing strained. Throm looked upon his own chest where Seventy Seven was pointing and saw that his very shirt had been blasted from his torso. To his horror he surveyed the onyx tone and texture which now glistened upon his chest as if a breastplate set within his body. The onyx faded and softened into his normal skin tones the further from the core of his chest his eyes scanned. The memories of the events that occured within the Lifestream flooded back to him all at once. Throm gasped again, though this time not in physical pain, but in the grim realization of what had transpired within the Planet's very core of life. Again the voice which held it's sneering tone, spoke up.
"So come down from your pedestal Cetra...for one who hates our cause so badly you seem ever so eager to flock to it..."
Without another sound, Seventy Seven stepped into the blackened archway it's folds enveloping him as he vanished completely. In stunned silence, Throm collapsed upon the broken boards of his former table, sitting forward. What had happened down there, continued to flood back to him in multiple waves. He had felt his complete disconnect with the Planet within the Lifestream itself. And it was at this point of disconnect that Throm's life had ended completely. He could never forget the hollow feeling of a body devoid of life as his own senses began to fail. This hollowness within him was replaced in short by something else however...something he couldn't quite place, but it was not of this Planet, of that he was certain. With much effort, he stood once more. Searching about the wreckage that used to be his Lab, he finally came upon that which he had searched for. Gripping the ancient leather bound tome in his hands, he carefully pulled open it's cover, delving into knowledge he had forsaken long ago. After but a few minutes he ceased turning the pages of the book as he came to a single passage.
'A human body...it does not catch the same cold twice. Why is this? It is because a body's immune system recognizes a threat and developes a defense against this threat. Each time the same threat attempts to attack the body the immune system immediately recognizes it as a previously marked threat and knows precisely how to fend such a virus off. The Planet is much the same in nature. Within her, is an immune system of great magnitude. Were every threat allowed unrestricted access to the Lifestream, a Planet would wither and die almost immediatly upon creation. When such a threat has been established, the Lifestream has been known to mark it as a 'virus', seperating any Lifestream within such a 'virus' before expelling it.'
"Mother..."
The part of his mind which still grasped at the elusive foothold of reason ventured immediatly that it must certainly not be his mother of which he spoke. His own mother had passed back into the Lifestream many many years ago, and all that aside, her name held no reason to be here of all places. Yet another voice cooed smoothly into the darkness. Throm recognized this one as well, though it was most definately not his own.
"Yes...Mother. She was with you no doubt?"
Throm blinked his eyes hard. He grew weary of these dreams...too often was he finding himself within them these days. As his eyes began to focus on his surroundings, a dull numbing pain filled every corner of his body. He groaned aloud as he slowly sat up. He was in his Lab...or what remained of it rather. The large table which had spanned the course of his room, now was completely shattered. Probably shattered from his impact upon it, Throm noted as he sat directly center of the rubble. His mind reeled as he attempted to remember exactly what it might have been that brought him to this state. As his own memory went into overdrive, he caught sight of a cloaked figure hunched beside the now broken archway at the head of the room. Instinctively, Throm's hand shot to his side only to find that his sword had been knocked from his side in whatever catastrophe had occured here. Speaking, Throm's voice came out horse, and in a near whisper.
"Seventy Seven..."
Straightening the figure slowly shambled towards him, coming to a stop only when it'd come too close for Throm's own personal comfort. The figure too spoke in a whisper, though this one forced by the raspy nature of it's voice.
"I've been called worse."
"Have you come to set fire to the rest of my home?"
Drawing back slightly, the cloaked figure crossed it's arms about it's chest. When it spoke, it's voice approached that of an odd kind of reverence. "I apologize for anything I have done to cause harm to you. Please know that I did these before I knew us to be brethren joined by our Mother."
Throm stood shakily, gasping slightly at the increased pain. He leaned heavy upon an upright leg of the broken table. Bursting into an unexpected flurry of bitter laughter he shook his head.
"You are not my brother Seventy Seven...the notion that you and I share the same blood offends me. To the Nine Hells with you...you and you're Mom."
The cloaked figure drew back slightly as if surprised by Throm's response. Slowly stepped backwards towards the broken archway, and though Throm could not see it's face, he could hear the sneer in Seventy Seven's voice.
"Blood? No. However we no doubt share the same genetic material now..."
It raised a withered hand pointing directly at Throm's chest. The figure's breath came hollow and raggedy...perhaps in rage, perhaps in the effort of speaking so much.
"You put yourself so high above us uth Bannon. However, do note that none of those within my cast have given Black Makou to innocents...nor have we attacked the Lifestream directly as you have."
The figure chuckled, it's raspy voice appearing strained. Throm looked upon his own chest where Seventy Seven was pointing and saw that his very shirt had been blasted from his torso. To his horror he surveyed the onyx tone and texture which now glistened upon his chest as if a breastplate set within his body. The onyx faded and softened into his normal skin tones the further from the core of his chest his eyes scanned. The memories of the events that occured within the Lifestream flooded back to him all at once. Throm gasped again, though this time not in physical pain, but in the grim realization of what had transpired within the Planet's very core of life. Again the voice which held it's sneering tone, spoke up.
"So come down from your pedestal Cetra...for one who hates our cause so badly you seem ever so eager to flock to it..."
Without another sound, Seventy Seven stepped into the blackened archway it's folds enveloping him as he vanished completely. In stunned silence, Throm collapsed upon the broken boards of his former table, sitting forward. What had happened down there, continued to flood back to him in multiple waves. He had felt his complete disconnect with the Planet within the Lifestream itself. And it was at this point of disconnect that Throm's life had ended completely. He could never forget the hollow feeling of a body devoid of life as his own senses began to fail. This hollowness within him was replaced in short by something else however...something he couldn't quite place, but it was not of this Planet, of that he was certain. With much effort, he stood once more. Searching about the wreckage that used to be his Lab, he finally came upon that which he had searched for. Gripping the ancient leather bound tome in his hands, he carefully pulled open it's cover, delving into knowledge he had forsaken long ago. After but a few minutes he ceased turning the pages of the book as he came to a single passage.
'A human body...it does not catch the same cold twice. Why is this? It is because a body's immune system recognizes a threat and developes a defense against this threat. Each time the same threat attempts to attack the body the immune system immediately recognizes it as a previously marked threat and knows precisely how to fend such a virus off. The Planet is much the same in nature. Within her, is an immune system of great magnitude. Were every threat allowed unrestricted access to the Lifestream, a Planet would wither and die almost immediatly upon creation. When such a threat has been established, the Lifestream has been known to mark it as a 'virus', seperating any Lifestream within such a 'virus' before expelling it.'
To the North!
In the following two weeks, she'd heard nothing from Throm. Her heart had churned with anger - but he was no longer her fiance. He needed not to tell her anything. She kept herself busy calling Colin over to do the odd jobs that she needed done... thereby keeping Colin from losing his mind as she had long before.
When Throm had entered the cavern, telling them he was leaving for a while - Sanria finally reached her limits. "Weren't you doing that already?" she snapped. "Or is a while now... perhaps... months? years? decades? Perhaps now you're helping yourself."
"I'm afraid I've never been to where I'm going...though I don't know how much help to myself such a venture will be."
"Hmmm. I'm sure you'll figure something out, Throm. You always do. In the meantime, we'll find my daughter."
Colin looked at Sanria calmingly. "Sanria, please, let's give him a chance to explain." She listened only for as long as it took for Throm to get Colin's hopes up.
"Don't either of you understand?" she pled. "She isn't coming back... not until she's ready... and... that could be years. So we just have to... have to get used to it."
"You resign yourself too easily..." Throm said.
"Yes, and you disappear as frequently." Again Colin broke in, almost frantic. "You may have lost someone but he was dead, Emalia is not! And I cannot give up until she is back."
Sanria stood dumbfounded. She felt as if she had been slapped in the face. Colin seemed to know that his words cut deeply, but even his attempt to comfort wasn't enough. Sanria had broken at last. With a few hostile parting words with Throm, she mounted the steps, entered her house, and burst into tears.
Grabbing a pack, she began throwing meaningless items into it. Quill, parchment, and a spare robe. She didn't know until she had packed where she would head, but she knew why she was leaving. Long ago... well before she had children... she had gone north to freeze to death. It felt a perfect place now to return, and without Thasmudyan around, she could succeed and simply go to sleep.
With a man who vanished, a daughter who not only hated her - but was also gone, a brother missing, a son who loved her only with scattered attendence, a son-in-law that scowled at her every move - Sanria felt the course was the best. She walked out, apologizing to both Throm and Colin, and headed into the woods.
When Throm had entered the cavern, telling them he was leaving for a while - Sanria finally reached her limits. "Weren't you doing that already?" she snapped. "Or is a while now... perhaps... months? years? decades? Perhaps now you're helping yourself."
"I'm afraid I've never been to where I'm going...though I don't know how much help to myself such a venture will be."
"Hmmm. I'm sure you'll figure something out, Throm. You always do. In the meantime, we'll find my daughter."
Colin looked at Sanria calmingly. "Sanria, please, let's give him a chance to explain." She listened only for as long as it took for Throm to get Colin's hopes up.
"Don't either of you understand?" she pled. "She isn't coming back... not until she's ready... and... that could be years. So we just have to... have to get used to it."
"You resign yourself too easily..." Throm said.
"Yes, and you disappear as frequently." Again Colin broke in, almost frantic. "You may have lost someone but he was dead, Emalia is not! And I cannot give up until she is back."
Sanria stood dumbfounded. She felt as if she had been slapped in the face. Colin seemed to know that his words cut deeply, but even his attempt to comfort wasn't enough. Sanria had broken at last. With a few hostile parting words with Throm, she mounted the steps, entered her house, and burst into tears.
Grabbing a pack, she began throwing meaningless items into it. Quill, parchment, and a spare robe. She didn't know until she had packed where she would head, but she knew why she was leaving. Long ago... well before she had children... she had gone north to freeze to death. It felt a perfect place now to return, and without Thasmudyan around, she could succeed and simply go to sleep.
With a man who vanished, a daughter who not only hated her - but was also gone, a brother missing, a son who loved her only with scattered attendence, a son-in-law that scowled at her every move - Sanria felt the course was the best. She walked out, apologizing to both Throm and Colin, and headed into the woods.
Darknesssssssss...
Sanria walked from the Blue Moon Tavern. Sanria walked toward Throm's House. Sanria reached the gates and looked up. Sanria fainted.
Bathing on the Bastion
She couldn’t escape. All of Sanria’s limbs had withered while in
stasis – her legs and arms were so thin they could scarce support her
weight, and even that was dangerously low. “Please… make it stop… Make
it stop!” In her mind, flashes of Visha’s ship combined with flashes of
her own ship and flicked back in time to flashes of her own ship. None
of it made any sense – only that this certainly had to mean danger.
Throm carried her into his ship amidst her protests. She tried to chant herself into believing it would all be alright – but it was barely working. Panic sat at the edges of her mind, toying with the threads of her sanity. Amidst Throm’s questioning – his face became mixed with so many from her past. She couldn’t keep any of it straight… he was Throm, then Tarran, then Colin, then Visha, then Thasmudyan, then Havok, then Sandorin…
“What is this dimension of which you speak?” Throm and his voice cut into her mind’s dissimulation.
“No. No. I won't tell you. I won't have anyone go there. I won't. You'll die. If you don't have Colin... or Visha...” And it was true, without a guide, Throm would be as good as lost.
They both argued until Sanria could take no more. There was no further discussion as Throm led Sanria to the bathing hall and the healer on the ship. Throm excused himself as Sanria dropped her robes to the floor. She had no shame, no cares of how she might appear. In the water she watched the turbulent bubbles as the healer looked her over in absolute silence. In her mind, Sanria was here, then in the Illuminati clan Jacuzzi, then home in her tub, then here again…
Throm carried her into his ship amidst her protests. She tried to chant herself into believing it would all be alright – but it was barely working. Panic sat at the edges of her mind, toying with the threads of her sanity. Amidst Throm’s questioning – his face became mixed with so many from her past. She couldn’t keep any of it straight… he was Throm, then Tarran, then Colin, then Visha, then Thasmudyan, then Havok, then Sandorin…
“What is this dimension of which you speak?” Throm and his voice cut into her mind’s dissimulation.
“No. No. I won't tell you. I won't have anyone go there. I won't. You'll die. If you don't have Colin... or Visha...” And it was true, without a guide, Throm would be as good as lost.
They both argued until Sanria could take no more. There was no further discussion as Throm led Sanria to the bathing hall and the healer on the ship. Throm excused himself as Sanria dropped her robes to the floor. She had no shame, no cares of how she might appear. In the water she watched the turbulent bubbles as the healer looked her over in absolute silence. In her mind, Sanria was here, then in the Illuminati clan Jacuzzi, then home in her tub, then here again…
Climax
The sounds of voices breaking the silence of the manors halls caused Throm to turn towards their source. 'Guests?' he murmured as one of his attendants, Karen led another figure to him. 'Indeed. Lady Sanria, no less.' the attendant beamed proudly, as her companion stopped in front of the couch Throm was bundled up upon. Not too long ago, Throm would felt awkward confronted with the sudden arrival of an old interest. Yet the same voice that spoke doom deep within his mind, now resonated relief within every fiber of his being. He didnt try to dissect it was he stared up at Sanria, old memories again blowing through the scars of past altercations.
'Youre not a...' Sanrias voice trailed off into a whisper. 'Specter?' he finished for her as a small smile grew on his face. She didnt answer just cast a short nod in his direction as Karen departed the room. Throm smiled still. 'No, I fear the food didnt quite taste the same as a specter.' she laughed just a little as she sat across from him on the couch. 'I wouldnt think so.' Throm plied his way through discourse, his mind weary but happy all the same. He found himself comfortable once more in her presence. For the first time in a long time he felt no facade, no barrier seperating them as she disclosed that she would be not be returning to the upper planes any more. 'At any rate that is all I came to say.' Sanria stood as Throm was able to manage a weak grin up at her. Throm had much more to say however a sudden reluctance to burden the woman further descended upon him as he just said what he thought would cause her the least confusion, 'Im glad to hear that you will be remaining with us lowly Primers.' Sanria simply smiled as if a little forced as she stepped back from him. 'Ill trouble you no more Throm.' It wasnt quite how he had intended their parting yet he just gave a nod of his head and made a poor attempt at prolonging conversation. Left to himself once more, the silence didnt last long before Karen wanted back into the room holding a tray with two mugs of tea. The older woman cast to Throm a confused glance. 'Where is she going?' Throm gave the barest hint of a shrug and didnt respond for a few moments. 'She didnt say, though I suppose she is going home.' Karens confused stare persisted as Throm cast his gaze back to the fireplace meaning to put an end to the subject. 'Well, was she not going to have tea with you? I asked her if shed be around for tea and she said she would...' From the corner of his half closed eyes his amusement was hard to disguise in the green edge of his stare. The corners of his mouth turned upwards the slightest bit as he smiled not unkindly and shook his head as though the movement cost him much effort. 'Then I suppose she has either forgotten, or has lied to you though I suspect the former as opposed to the latter.' His mind began to drift inward upon itself wearily as sleep threatened to overtake him. A voice pulled him back from the edge of it rather abruptly. 'I forgot my pack...'
'Youre not a...' Sanrias voice trailed off into a whisper. 'Specter?' he finished for her as a small smile grew on his face. She didnt answer just cast a short nod in his direction as Karen departed the room. Throm smiled still. 'No, I fear the food didnt quite taste the same as a specter.' she laughed just a little as she sat across from him on the couch. 'I wouldnt think so.' Throm plied his way through discourse, his mind weary but happy all the same. He found himself comfortable once more in her presence. For the first time in a long time he felt no facade, no barrier seperating them as she disclosed that she would be not be returning to the upper planes any more. 'At any rate that is all I came to say.' Sanria stood as Throm was able to manage a weak grin up at her. Throm had much more to say however a sudden reluctance to burden the woman further descended upon him as he just said what he thought would cause her the least confusion, 'Im glad to hear that you will be remaining with us lowly Primers.' Sanria simply smiled as if a little forced as she stepped back from him. 'Ill trouble you no more Throm.' It wasnt quite how he had intended their parting yet he just gave a nod of his head and made a poor attempt at prolonging conversation. Left to himself once more, the silence didnt last long before Karen wanted back into the room holding a tray with two mugs of tea. The older woman cast to Throm a confused glance. 'Where is she going?' Throm gave the barest hint of a shrug and didnt respond for a few moments. 'She didnt say, though I suppose she is going home.' Karens confused stare persisted as Throm cast his gaze back to the fireplace meaning to put an end to the subject. 'Well, was she not going to have tea with you? I asked her if shed be around for tea and she said she would...' From the corner of his half closed eyes his amusement was hard to disguise in the green edge of his stare. The corners of his mouth turned upwards the slightest bit as he smiled not unkindly and shook his head as though the movement cost him much effort. 'Then I suppose she has either forgotten, or has lied to you though I suspect the former as opposed to the latter.' His mind began to drift inward upon itself wearily as sleep threatened to overtake him. A voice pulled him back from the edge of it rather abruptly. 'I forgot my pack...'
Current Events
'More coffee?'
Throm looked up from the parchment he had been reading, smiled and shook his head. 'No thank you dear. Mystra knows I need it, however this day I prefer to keep my thoughts well contained.' The Guardian coffee shop waitress merely smiled and nodded. Having arrived earlier from his trip to the eastern continent, Throm had stopped into Guardian Hall to see to checking in on the family. Looking back at the letter he had been going over, he re-read aloud a portion of Hellstrom's leave of absence. 'Should I live...' His eyes flashed as he scrolled up to yet another bit of the letter. 'My presence may have lost this family the presence of one who is far more deserving of the title of Guardian than I...' His brow furrowing in thought, the wild haired man began to regret taking his own leave of absence after the Therru incident. Looking back upwards from his reading he asked the Guardian waitress, 'What in the Nine Hells is going on around here?' The Swiss Miss shrugged.
'There are many things which pass by my within these halls...some true...some not. But if you are looking for answers, you may do well to ask Elbryan, Emalia or even perhaps Jayden.' Confirming his thanks by patting the young woman on the shoulder, he stepped into the Guardian Sanctuary where among other people, Jayden sat relaxing within steaming pool which took up the greater part of the room. Smiling faintly, Throm approached from the front of the pool so as not to startle anyone. Handing Hellstrom's letter to Jayden, the smile upon his face faded but a little. Sitting next to the pool, he asked in a low tone. 'So...perhaps you might be able to enlighten me on the events transpiring as of late...'
Throm looked up from the parchment he had been reading, smiled and shook his head. 'No thank you dear. Mystra knows I need it, however this day I prefer to keep my thoughts well contained.' The Guardian coffee shop waitress merely smiled and nodded. Having arrived earlier from his trip to the eastern continent, Throm had stopped into Guardian Hall to see to checking in on the family. Looking back at the letter he had been going over, he re-read aloud a portion of Hellstrom's leave of absence. 'Should I live...' His eyes flashed as he scrolled up to yet another bit of the letter. 'My presence may have lost this family the presence of one who is far more deserving of the title of Guardian than I...' His brow furrowing in thought, the wild haired man began to regret taking his own leave of absence after the Therru incident. Looking back upwards from his reading he asked the Guardian waitress, 'What in the Nine Hells is going on around here?' The Swiss Miss shrugged.
'There are many things which pass by my within these halls...some true...some not. But if you are looking for answers, you may do well to ask Elbryan, Emalia or even perhaps Jayden.' Confirming his thanks by patting the young woman on the shoulder, he stepped into the Guardian Sanctuary where among other people, Jayden sat relaxing within steaming pool which took up the greater part of the room. Smiling faintly, Throm approached from the front of the pool so as not to startle anyone. Handing Hellstrom's letter to Jayden, the smile upon his face faded but a little. Sitting next to the pool, he asked in a low tone. 'So...perhaps you might be able to enlighten me on the events transpiring as of late...'
Contingencies for Contingencies
The heavy footfalls of Colin's boots along the wooden floor of the library echoed throughout the room. Throm studied the warrior carefully. Predictably, Colin's rate of alarm had been steadily increasing since he had learned of Sanria's departure. His decision to follow and approach Sanria was already apparent in his body language.
'Where did she say she was going, exactly?'
Throm continued to study the man as he divulged the information that would soon put him on a course to Sanria.
'She'll probably be on her way to Torregiano. After that I believe Baldur's Gate and Waterdeep.'
Colin's frustration was evident in his voice as well as the increased speed of pacing as he glared at Throm, shaking his head.
'Just when things seemed to be coming together. I'm sorry, but there's no way I can just sit up in this house and not care that she's out there by herself with all that we've seen. You convinced me that this threat was big enough to go into the rift, yet you are fine with just letting this happen.'
Throm leaned forward upon the table as he nodded earnestly.
'Shall we pack up the ship, and bring her back by force then?'
Colin waved him off, his frustration clearly mounting as he detected Throm's sarcasm.
'No, don't you worry, you carry on however you want. I can take care of this. Thank you for the information.'
'What would you do?'
Colin turned to Throm, signs of a cool anger simmering just beneath the surface evident even to the sorcerer.
'I told you, I'm going to make sure she's safe. After that... we'll see. It wouldn't be the first time I've been a guardian. But maybe you've forgotten how.'
His comment hit closer to home more so than Colin could have known. He was right in ways he could not have known. Throm was accustomed to moving people about, as pawns on a chessboard, but even in the worst of times he had not made habit of doing so with friends. He had always drawn an invisible line in the fabric of his moral state, separating friendship from the cool calculating voice within him that always seemed to get things accomplished efficiently.
'If you must keep tabs, then do so. I know deep down I would feel better about it. But by blundering in, announcing that you don't respect her freedom to get away. Does that truly serve her...or does it serve you?'
This earned him another angry glance from the larger man.
'I'm not you Throm. I can't just sit back and watch things happen. I also won't slip about following Sanria like some king of thief, and I won't operate based upon assumptions.'
Throm nodded, reverting mentally back to his original plan. Colin was a man of action, Throm could respected that. His concern would lead him not to dance around the issues, but rather to charge directly into the heart of them. Throm knew his own concern was no less, but there was always a plan to be executed. A contingency for contingencies. While both may in truth have the same goals in mind, they were opposite sides of the coin in nature. But it would be both sides that would be needed to see this through.
'I hope you will keep me informed as well. I'll be leaving here as soon as I catch up with Thasmudyan. I will be staying at the Blockade east of the city.'
Colin issued a somber nod which did not necessarily commit to or against doing so.
'Well, time's wasting. I need to make preparations. I have a lot of ground to make up.'
The warrior departed, leaving Throm to scratch out the location of potential hidden caches upon a piece seconds before the man in black slipped back into the room, chuckling in sarcasm though speaking quietly so as not to be overheard.
'Long time no see.'
Throm folded the parchment and handed it to the man returning his comment equaling his tone of sarcasm, in the process.
'It has been indeed.'
The Cetra cast a glance at the doorway after Colin.
'It's good to know I still have friends out there. Ensure he doesn't know you're following.'
'No doubt.'
The man nodded and once more took his leave. Throm sighed, alone to his thoughts once more. He had but one more task to complete before leaving the manor. His gaze drifted to the small necklace that still lay upon the table. He would need to see to it's safety, and for that he would need Thasmudyan.
'Where did she say she was going, exactly?'
Throm continued to study the man as he divulged the information that would soon put him on a course to Sanria.
'She'll probably be on her way to Torregiano. After that I believe Baldur's Gate and Waterdeep.'
Colin's frustration was evident in his voice as well as the increased speed of pacing as he glared at Throm, shaking his head.
'Just when things seemed to be coming together. I'm sorry, but there's no way I can just sit up in this house and not care that she's out there by herself with all that we've seen. You convinced me that this threat was big enough to go into the rift, yet you are fine with just letting this happen.'
Throm leaned forward upon the table as he nodded earnestly.
'Shall we pack up the ship, and bring her back by force then?'
Colin waved him off, his frustration clearly mounting as he detected Throm's sarcasm.
'No, don't you worry, you carry on however you want. I can take care of this. Thank you for the information.'
'What would you do?'
Colin turned to Throm, signs of a cool anger simmering just beneath the surface evident even to the sorcerer.
'I told you, I'm going to make sure she's safe. After that... we'll see. It wouldn't be the first time I've been a guardian. But maybe you've forgotten how.'
His comment hit closer to home more so than Colin could have known. He was right in ways he could not have known. Throm was accustomed to moving people about, as pawns on a chessboard, but even in the worst of times he had not made habit of doing so with friends. He had always drawn an invisible line in the fabric of his moral state, separating friendship from the cool calculating voice within him that always seemed to get things accomplished efficiently.
'If you must keep tabs, then do so. I know deep down I would feel better about it. But by blundering in, announcing that you don't respect her freedom to get away. Does that truly serve her...or does it serve you?'
This earned him another angry glance from the larger man.
'I'm not you Throm. I can't just sit back and watch things happen. I also won't slip about following Sanria like some king of thief, and I won't operate based upon assumptions.'
Throm nodded, reverting mentally back to his original plan. Colin was a man of action, Throm could respected that. His concern would lead him not to dance around the issues, but rather to charge directly into the heart of them. Throm knew his own concern was no less, but there was always a plan to be executed. A contingency for contingencies. While both may in truth have the same goals in mind, they were opposite sides of the coin in nature. But it would be both sides that would be needed to see this through.
'I hope you will keep me informed as well. I'll be leaving here as soon as I catch up with Thasmudyan. I will be staying at the Blockade east of the city.'
Colin issued a somber nod which did not necessarily commit to or against doing so.
'Well, time's wasting. I need to make preparations. I have a lot of ground to make up.'
The warrior departed, leaving Throm to scratch out the location of potential hidden caches upon a piece seconds before the man in black slipped back into the room, chuckling in sarcasm though speaking quietly so as not to be overheard.
'Long time no see.'
Throm folded the parchment and handed it to the man returning his comment equaling his tone of sarcasm, in the process.
'It has been indeed.'
The Cetra cast a glance at the doorway after Colin.
'It's good to know I still have friends out there. Ensure he doesn't know you're following.'
'No doubt.'
The man nodded and once more took his leave. Throm sighed, alone to his thoughts once more. He had but one more task to complete before leaving the manor. His gaze drifted to the small necklace that still lay upon the table. He would need to see to it's safety, and for that he would need Thasmudyan.
Final Words
Sanria had gone as far north as she could. Her throat raw from breathing in the freeing air. The tears on her cheeks grew icy before they had even coursed their way down her face, leaving a dried trail of saltwater. She couldn't feel her feet. She couldn't feel her hands. She couldn't feel anything but the void at the center of her chest that spread from her heart and into the entirety of her being. She stumbled and fell into the snow on her hands and knees, her palms reddening with the cold. Karen, the help's voice rang in her mind, 'I'm sorry, M'lady... we found him by the fire... he's dead.'
Sanria let out a roar of anguish and sat on her heels. She had lost Emalia. She had lost touch with Tarran. She had lost two children that never even made it to birth. She had lost her grasp on a realm that made everything okay. She had barely kept herself together. She had dared hope that the night spent by the fire with Throm was the beginning of what should have been and what finally would be. She had no idea that it would be the last time she'd see him alive.
Sanria slid from her heels and sat in the frigid snow absolutely broken. She wanted to tear out the thick feeling that curled in her chest and throw it away, but she couldn't grasp it. The pain was beyond her reckoning - as was everything else. She let out a gut wrenching howl and gripped her head in her hands. She screamed out his name, the word billowing steam from her mouth. There would be no Bastion in the skies to save her this time. There would be no rescue. There would never be.
Sanria opened her pack, barely able to see for the tears that continually welled up in her eyes. She found what she sought, and could barely grip the handle of the dagger, so numb were her fingers. She stared for a long time at the glinting metal, the steel shining white in reflection of the ground and the overcast skies. Snow began to drift down around her in thick, lazy flakes. She looked skyward and the flakes caught on her eyelashes and face, staying whole and remaining.
A flash of green eyes aglow. A long stretching memory of time in the sand, time in a garden, cups of tea. As if guided, the blade slid between Sanria's ribs and into her heart. The pain was excruciating, blinding, then - exquisite... the tea was exquisite. There was no more cold, no more pain. Sanria was sitting in front of a fire and beside her was the one being she could never attain. Throm smiled back at her, his eyes sparkling. She took his hand as her body fell into the snow. She leaned over and gave him a kiss as the blood left her body to turn the snow crimson. She whispered the words, "I love you," before the image faded and Sanria's life parted ways with Sanria's body.
Sanria let out a roar of anguish and sat on her heels. She had lost Emalia. She had lost touch with Tarran. She had lost two children that never even made it to birth. She had lost her grasp on a realm that made everything okay. She had barely kept herself together. She had dared hope that the night spent by the fire with Throm was the beginning of what should have been and what finally would be. She had no idea that it would be the last time she'd see him alive.
Sanria slid from her heels and sat in the frigid snow absolutely broken. She wanted to tear out the thick feeling that curled in her chest and throw it away, but she couldn't grasp it. The pain was beyond her reckoning - as was everything else. She let out a gut wrenching howl and gripped her head in her hands. She screamed out his name, the word billowing steam from her mouth. There would be no Bastion in the skies to save her this time. There would be no rescue. There would never be.
Sanria opened her pack, barely able to see for the tears that continually welled up in her eyes. She found what she sought, and could barely grip the handle of the dagger, so numb were her fingers. She stared for a long time at the glinting metal, the steel shining white in reflection of the ground and the overcast skies. Snow began to drift down around her in thick, lazy flakes. She looked skyward and the flakes caught on her eyelashes and face, staying whole and remaining.
A flash of green eyes aglow. A long stretching memory of time in the sand, time in a garden, cups of tea. As if guided, the blade slid between Sanria's ribs and into her heart. The pain was excruciating, blinding, then - exquisite... the tea was exquisite. There was no more cold, no more pain. Sanria was sitting in front of a fire and beside her was the one being she could never attain. Throm smiled back at her, his eyes sparkling. She took his hand as her body fell into the snow. She leaned over and gave him a kiss as the blood left her body to turn the snow crimson. She whispered the words, "I love you," before the image faded and Sanria's life parted ways with Sanria's body.
Prison Break
Sanria rose from the boulder after drifting off to a quiet sleep. The birds twittered and chattered on the branches above her, and even with all her connections to the beauty of nature around her, Sanria found a near miss by her head - left by the chirping bombers above. She ran a hand through her hair and decided to waste no more time. "Defero ad gentiliatis o caeles - com incolumitas, celeritas, et mea gratia aeternus." In a twisting column of mist, a black door grew from the ground. Through this, Sanria stepped, and ended in her clan hall. For one in a clan which knows so much, the location of the Paxian jail was a snippet for which she required a map.
Sanria traversed the hall with a look of consternated contemplation, a diametrically opposite pair of emotions, in order to pass her fellow clan members without fear of interruption. In a clan where knowledge is revered, seldom is one bothered when such a look is on ones face. She reached the quiet Anthenaeum and the many tomes which held both ancient and modern maps. It was to her benefit she had asked none where the jail was - her face was red enough knowing it was a short stroll from Market Square. With a few passing nods, Sanria reached the magical passage which gave her access to Market Square. Within moments, she stood before a marble building. It chilled her to be in such a pristine place, and unnerved her a bit more to see the various insignias worn by the guards. Order of Justice.
Passing through the upright and massive girth of the pillars, a door with a brass plaque caught her eye: "Jail." It never seemed to do for any OOJ officer to waste time being superfluous. At the base of the narrow stairwell, the smell of piss and sour milk set up camp within her nostrils. It was dank, it was dark, and the guard looked both irritated, and glad to see her. "Excuse me, where can I find Remus?"
"No visitors." The guard was a large man, who, upon the interruption, stood up - hitching up his pants and sticking out his chest.
"It has been quite some time since I have heard a voice of the fairer sex," a voice called.
"Please... only a moment..."
With a simple nod, Sanria was granted access to the prisoner, and upon reaching him she couldn't contain her dismay. Remus' eyes were bandaged completely over. Indeed, he was rather large man - though rather rough for wear. "Oh this won't do... you can't see?"
"I see that you were gasping in surprise dear lady."
"Lithanus didn't tell me this... it just won't do."
"Lithanus... Lithanus sent you?"
"Yes," Sanria sighed, her head now against the bars of the cell. "Throm is missing."
"Hmm, I should have killed the little bugger when I had the chance. Throm??"
Sanria elaborated on her very, very, very limited amount of knowledge the fact that Throm had left her side and not told her where he was heading. Now, he could be in danger. As they spoke, more information appeared to drop from the sky - as though the man who Remus knew, the father Lithanus knew, and the man Sanria knew – were in fact, three different people altogether. Here, from Remus, she discovered Throm had once been a scout and had had dealings in Vector.
None-the-less, she would not allow her personal worries and misgivings intrude upon what she felt was at the very least, her duty to a dear friend. She did loved Throm and she would absolutely see to his wellbeing. With this in mind, and a polite request for Remus never to mention a thing to Throm, Sanria set about to seduce the guard into an immediate cup of tea.
Reluctantly, the guard rose and Sanria escorted him to the street. "Oh, my dear, I have forgotten my pack. Please... wait here and don't leave," her voice lowered and she leaned in with eyes in full 'come hither' status. "I really do want that cup of tea." Sanria's feet then flew to the desk, the keys, and Remus' cell.
"What's the escape plan?" Sanria gasped and her eyes widened in alarm. This was one part of using feminine wiles that had been excluded. "Your silence says it all. Run!" As though granted by the Gods, the two fled the hall, dodging guards - even the disbelieving face that had been duped into allowing a prison break.
Not in a long time had Sanria really run to the point of exhaustion, but she found her feet flying and her chest threatening to collapse. She was doubly astounded at the fact that a blind man was running through the streets - leading her. She had no idea where they were going until the towers of the uth Bannon mannor came into view. "I've imagined this rout a million times over... not running the entire way mind you but I'll take what I can get."
Grinning, Remus tried the gates. "Details details details." "If you trust me," Sanria spoke between returning breaths, "you can accompany me to my home.""You just sprung me from jail... I have to trust you lady."
After slipping through the streets and the wood, both Remus and Sanria slipped behind the falls and beyond the threshold of her house. Initially, she led him to a bedroom in the upper half, but with the din of water from the falls, she escorted him to the bowels of the cavernous house.
It was here in Sanria's small study the two spoke and Sanria found out more about Throm than she had known from both the man himself and his son combined. Her discussions in the past day had left her wondering exactly what was going on. Her love that had grown for Throm was the motivating force for ensuring his complete safety. Her fear of change, of absence, of what seemed to be anything that involved truly living, was what left her undecided and worried.
Remus was offered the old master suite, and the story of why it was decorated in green and blue and silks and satins, and the two parted for the night. The following day, she would meet him in Torregiano - after he had acquired a very promising set of armor -and they would follow Ferin north in the hopes of discovering the root of Throm's travel.
Sanria traversed the hall with a look of consternated contemplation, a diametrically opposite pair of emotions, in order to pass her fellow clan members without fear of interruption. In a clan where knowledge is revered, seldom is one bothered when such a look is on ones face. She reached the quiet Anthenaeum and the many tomes which held both ancient and modern maps. It was to her benefit she had asked none where the jail was - her face was red enough knowing it was a short stroll from Market Square. With a few passing nods, Sanria reached the magical passage which gave her access to Market Square. Within moments, she stood before a marble building. It chilled her to be in such a pristine place, and unnerved her a bit more to see the various insignias worn by the guards. Order of Justice.
Passing through the upright and massive girth of the pillars, a door with a brass plaque caught her eye: "Jail." It never seemed to do for any OOJ officer to waste time being superfluous. At the base of the narrow stairwell, the smell of piss and sour milk set up camp within her nostrils. It was dank, it was dark, and the guard looked both irritated, and glad to see her. "Excuse me, where can I find Remus?"
"No visitors." The guard was a large man, who, upon the interruption, stood up - hitching up his pants and sticking out his chest.
"It has been quite some time since I have heard a voice of the fairer sex," a voice called.
"Please... only a moment..."
With a simple nod, Sanria was granted access to the prisoner, and upon reaching him she couldn't contain her dismay. Remus' eyes were bandaged completely over. Indeed, he was rather large man - though rather rough for wear. "Oh this won't do... you can't see?"
"I see that you were gasping in surprise dear lady."
"Lithanus didn't tell me this... it just won't do."
"Lithanus... Lithanus sent you?"
"Yes," Sanria sighed, her head now against the bars of the cell. "Throm is missing."
"Hmm, I should have killed the little bugger when I had the chance. Throm??"
Sanria elaborated on her very, very, very limited amount of knowledge the fact that Throm had left her side and not told her where he was heading. Now, he could be in danger. As they spoke, more information appeared to drop from the sky - as though the man who Remus knew, the father Lithanus knew, and the man Sanria knew – were in fact, three different people altogether. Here, from Remus, she discovered Throm had once been a scout and had had dealings in Vector.
None-the-less, she would not allow her personal worries and misgivings intrude upon what she felt was at the very least, her duty to a dear friend. She did loved Throm and she would absolutely see to his wellbeing. With this in mind, and a polite request for Remus never to mention a thing to Throm, Sanria set about to seduce the guard into an immediate cup of tea.
Reluctantly, the guard rose and Sanria escorted him to the street. "Oh, my dear, I have forgotten my pack. Please... wait here and don't leave," her voice lowered and she leaned in with eyes in full 'come hither' status. "I really do want that cup of tea." Sanria's feet then flew to the desk, the keys, and Remus' cell.
"What's the escape plan?" Sanria gasped and her eyes widened in alarm. This was one part of using feminine wiles that had been excluded. "Your silence says it all. Run!" As though granted by the Gods, the two fled the hall, dodging guards - even the disbelieving face that had been duped into allowing a prison break.
Not in a long time had Sanria really run to the point of exhaustion, but she found her feet flying and her chest threatening to collapse. She was doubly astounded at the fact that a blind man was running through the streets - leading her. She had no idea where they were going until the towers of the uth Bannon mannor came into view. "I've imagined this rout a million times over... not running the entire way mind you but I'll take what I can get."
Grinning, Remus tried the gates. "Details details details." "If you trust me," Sanria spoke between returning breaths, "you can accompany me to my home.""You just sprung me from jail... I have to trust you lady."
After slipping through the streets and the wood, both Remus and Sanria slipped behind the falls and beyond the threshold of her house. Initially, she led him to a bedroom in the upper half, but with the din of water from the falls, she escorted him to the bowels of the cavernous house.
It was here in Sanria's small study the two spoke and Sanria found out more about Throm than she had known from both the man himself and his son combined. Her discussions in the past day had left her wondering exactly what was going on. Her love that had grown for Throm was the motivating force for ensuring his complete safety. Her fear of change, of absence, of what seemed to be anything that involved truly living, was what left her undecided and worried.
Remus was offered the old master suite, and the story of why it was decorated in green and blue and silks and satins, and the two parted for the night. The following day, she would meet him in Torregiano - after he had acquired a very promising set of armor -and they would follow Ferin north in the hopes of discovering the root of Throm's travel.
Twist of Events
Weeks... no... just days in the guise of longer spans had passed. The whispers from within the Tower had all but kept Throm from sleep. Even his most elusive of concealment spells could not hide him from them. Half cursing himself for destroying the lab from which these voices spawned, he blundered through the strange maze, finding nothing in the way of escape. Voices had transfigured to visions, though Throm was sure by now that this was due to the lack of sleep in which he had been subjected. Over the course of the past few days he had been witness and participant to past battles recreated, past devastations wrought, and past sorrows relived.
"Enough...I have to find a way out..."
Speaking to himself, his voice sounded vacant as if belonging to another. He had stopped to take a brief moment's rest and regain a breath of sanity before thrusting himself back into the chaos of the Tower. Reinforcing his intestinal fortitude, and focusing his mind once again on the task of leaving the accursed place he now found himself, he slowly began walking once again down the corridor.
Throm loosed a small sigh of exasperation as once again, the sure signs of a dead end crept from the shadows ahead. His breath at once caught as his eyes revealed the wood paneling of a door in what he had thought for sure to be a lost cause. imping slightly to the front of the door, he extended his hand and breathed a short incantation causing the very door to burst open inward. Throm peered into the other side of the door cautiously, noting the bare walls and single simple bed might mean that this room served as a cell of sorts. However it wasn't the room that caught his attention, it was 'who' was in the room which made his very blood run cold. Sanria sat within the room, looking towards him with an equally surprised expression. Quickly looking away and further into the room, he gave himself confirmation that there was no way out through here.
"Dead end..."
Sanria stood, moving nearer to him. Throm's mind raced. The thought that there was someone using her image as another mind game to get him to crack caused him at once to see red as anger overtook him. He wasn't certain what he said next, only that it promised death to his antagonist. He felt the narcotic rush of the lifestream flowing through his body as his magic crackled to life. This would end here...no longer was he a rat within a maze, he would take control of this here and now. And then he felt her hands upon him...cool as though to fevered skin. At once the energy of the lifestream drained from him leaving him feeling empty and tired. His defenses crumbled one by one as he realized that he would not be able to do what the greater part of his mind told him he needed to do.
The two talked for a short while before finally agreeing that escape was their best laid plan, and hasty escape at that. Sanria's years within the woodlands proved useful as she discovered a secret exit within the very cell they had been sitting in. The last thing Throm remembered before the chill air of the outside hit his face confirming their freedom was that he couldn't have found himself in better company in such a strange twist of events.
"Enough...I have to find a way out..."
Speaking to himself, his voice sounded vacant as if belonging to another. He had stopped to take a brief moment's rest and regain a breath of sanity before thrusting himself back into the chaos of the Tower. Reinforcing his intestinal fortitude, and focusing his mind once again on the task of leaving the accursed place he now found himself, he slowly began walking once again down the corridor.
Throm loosed a small sigh of exasperation as once again, the sure signs of a dead end crept from the shadows ahead. His breath at once caught as his eyes revealed the wood paneling of a door in what he had thought for sure to be a lost cause. imping slightly to the front of the door, he extended his hand and breathed a short incantation causing the very door to burst open inward. Throm peered into the other side of the door cautiously, noting the bare walls and single simple bed might mean that this room served as a cell of sorts. However it wasn't the room that caught his attention, it was 'who' was in the room which made his very blood run cold. Sanria sat within the room, looking towards him with an equally surprised expression. Quickly looking away and further into the room, he gave himself confirmation that there was no way out through here.
"Dead end..."
Sanria stood, moving nearer to him. Throm's mind raced. The thought that there was someone using her image as another mind game to get him to crack caused him at once to see red as anger overtook him. He wasn't certain what he said next, only that it promised death to his antagonist. He felt the narcotic rush of the lifestream flowing through his body as his magic crackled to life. This would end here...no longer was he a rat within a maze, he would take control of this here and now. And then he felt her hands upon him...cool as though to fevered skin. At once the energy of the lifestream drained from him leaving him feeling empty and tired. His defenses crumbled one by one as he realized that he would not be able to do what the greater part of his mind told him he needed to do.
The two talked for a short while before finally agreeing that escape was their best laid plan, and hasty escape at that. Sanria's years within the woodlands proved useful as she discovered a secret exit within the very cell they had been sitting in. The last thing Throm remembered before the chill air of the outside hit his face confirming their freedom was that he couldn't have found himself in better company in such a strange twist of events.
Familiarity (1-2)
Sanria was warmed at how enthusiastically Ror took the moss. He checked his list and agreed he had all he needed. Methodical and attentive. She stared at the uniform again with a smile and nod. "Throm would have been very happy with you, I know it."
"Eh?" came the puzzled reply.
"Ah, my ramblings. You're a studious mind and a researcher. He would have truly enjoyed meeting you and perhaps getting to know you as he was also."
"Was he a famous researcher?" Ror asked.
"Famous..." and Sanria chuckled. "He was a congressman for TriPower and a leader of the army. I don't know about famous, but well known. Well known."
"I will ask around then, because I have not seen any statues of him yet."
"I don't know that there will be any. But he was a good man. It seems you are as well."
She anticipated Ror would be off and in fact Sanria had made ready to say goodbye, but it seemed the sorrow on her face had stopped the researcher from going. "My apologies if my remarks have caused you sorrow. I meant well. All the great men and women of the TriPower have their statue. I know, I studied them. Just none of Throm."
"There is no need for apologies. I'm not truly certain all know of his death, he was known for disappearing as well. In their minds, he may simply be off on another adventure." Wasn't that death anyway? Another grand adventure? Inwardly she chuckled, certainly Throm would have thought so.
"May I be so bold and ask you how he died?"
Sanria took the proffered arm and allowed herself to be led to the side of the falls where moss grew in abundance. There, she sat near Ror, and told him about Throm's death - the black makou that had plagued him for so many years - the last time she saw him that he was free of it, but had died. The truth was, Sanria did not know how Throm had died, but she had a suspicion. Getting the black mako out, in her mind, had ended Throm's life. The thought flittered across her mind that what was in Colin might just have to stay in there forever.
Colin... she had forgotten completely about Colin and Nioma. The last thing she needed was Colin to come out of the cavern and see her sprawled on the moss with a man he'd never seen. Not that she was, necessarily, sprawled "with" Ror, but... "I think I shall go then, but I would like to make an appoint, if that's not a problem," he asked as she rose to go.
"To return?"
"Here? I suspect elsewhere to be honest. But if here, then here, yes." It shocked Sanria a little, they hadn't gotten on that well, had they? "Any where, certainly. When and where?"
"When you have the time, as for where, that would be Throm's laboratory."
Sanria's breath caught. The absolute forward nature of the request was raw against the wound she had allowed to surface. What had she done? "I... can't do that... I'm sorry."
"Sorry, I didn't mean you have to go with me. You can if you want. All I ask is that you show me where it is."
"No... I can't... do that," she replied again. What the hell had she done.
"Too dangerous or personal objections?"
"Quite a bit of both, I assure you. Throm had secrets that... even with his not being here, I suspect would be best kept that way. Besides... he does still have a son out there somewhere and I don't feel it my place to reveal his father's personal life."
"Alright. There's nothing I can do then. But, if Throm's research falls in another's hands, outside the TriPower, what then?"
"There is much you do not know about Throm uth Bannon, Ror."
They parted, Ror's words, "Heh, you told me more than they did. And I read the books too. Such an important man, yet no statue," knocking against her brain. And then he mouthed a few words, no sound, but she was certain she had not misinterpreted. "I need to know. Because I don't trust him." Even in death, she thought, Throm was plagued with what? Being a politician and a sorcerer who knew far more than he ever let on. She would meet with Ror again, but this time, she would watch her words carefully.
Sanria went back inside, back into the thick air, back into the place where happiness hinged on her staying put. She regretted going outside today. She regretted talking to someone new. She regretted that she would have to weave yet another fabrication to extricate herself from saying too much, and yet another fabrication to keep someone she cared for safe... even if he was dead.
"Eh?" came the puzzled reply.
"Ah, my ramblings. You're a studious mind and a researcher. He would have truly enjoyed meeting you and perhaps getting to know you as he was also."
"Was he a famous researcher?" Ror asked.
"Famous..." and Sanria chuckled. "He was a congressman for TriPower and a leader of the army. I don't know about famous, but well known. Well known."
"I will ask around then, because I have not seen any statues of him yet."
"I don't know that there will be any. But he was a good man. It seems you are as well."
She anticipated Ror would be off and in fact Sanria had made ready to say goodbye, but it seemed the sorrow on her face had stopped the researcher from going. "My apologies if my remarks have caused you sorrow. I meant well. All the great men and women of the TriPower have their statue. I know, I studied them. Just none of Throm."
"There is no need for apologies. I'm not truly certain all know of his death, he was known for disappearing as well. In their minds, he may simply be off on another adventure." Wasn't that death anyway? Another grand adventure? Inwardly she chuckled, certainly Throm would have thought so.
"May I be so bold and ask you how he died?"
Sanria took the proffered arm and allowed herself to be led to the side of the falls where moss grew in abundance. There, she sat near Ror, and told him about Throm's death - the black makou that had plagued him for so many years - the last time she saw him that he was free of it, but had died. The truth was, Sanria did not know how Throm had died, but she had a suspicion. Getting the black mako out, in her mind, had ended Throm's life. The thought flittered across her mind that what was in Colin might just have to stay in there forever.
Colin... she had forgotten completely about Colin and Nioma. The last thing she needed was Colin to come out of the cavern and see her sprawled on the moss with a man he'd never seen. Not that she was, necessarily, sprawled "with" Ror, but... "I think I shall go then, but I would like to make an appoint, if that's not a problem," he asked as she rose to go.
"To return?"
"Here? I suspect elsewhere to be honest. But if here, then here, yes." It shocked Sanria a little, they hadn't gotten on that well, had they? "Any where, certainly. When and where?"
"When you have the time, as for where, that would be Throm's laboratory."
Sanria's breath caught. The absolute forward nature of the request was raw against the wound she had allowed to surface. What had she done? "I... can't do that... I'm sorry."
"Sorry, I didn't mean you have to go with me. You can if you want. All I ask is that you show me where it is."
"No... I can't... do that," she replied again. What the hell had she done.
"Too dangerous or personal objections?"
"Quite a bit of both, I assure you. Throm had secrets that... even with his not being here, I suspect would be best kept that way. Besides... he does still have a son out there somewhere and I don't feel it my place to reveal his father's personal life."
"Alright. There's nothing I can do then. But, if Throm's research falls in another's hands, outside the TriPower, what then?"
"There is much you do not know about Throm uth Bannon, Ror."
They parted, Ror's words, "Heh, you told me more than they did. And I read the books too. Such an important man, yet no statue," knocking against her brain. And then he mouthed a few words, no sound, but she was certain she had not misinterpreted. "I need to know. Because I don't trust him." Even in death, she thought, Throm was plagued with what? Being a politician and a sorcerer who knew far more than he ever let on. She would meet with Ror again, but this time, she would watch her words carefully.
Sanria went back inside, back into the thick air, back into the place where happiness hinged on her staying put. She regretted going outside today. She regretted talking to someone new. She regretted that she would have to weave yet another fabrication to extricate herself from saying too much, and yet another fabrication to keep someone she cared for safe... even if he was dead.
Contingencies
Little galaxies, each one containing perhaps hundreds of worlds. Be they symbolic or literal Throm knew not. The only thing he knew was that the necklace they had found within the cave inside the rift was a powerful artifact, and according to Kaliadra may perhaps be capable of travel to other worlds not reachable by standard arcane means. The journey back had been uneventful, the return home more so. Sanria had left after perhaps a day after their return, and Throm couldn't blame her. As glad as he was to have everybody under the same roof, he imagined the manor had become quite stuffy as of late. Even with the knowledge that she would be outside of his immediate protection Throm was secretly glad that she was headed east. It was probably safer there than it soon would be in Westbridge.
Throm stood from the table where he sat within his library and walked slowly over to the map which covered the northern wall of the room. Most of it had been filled in thanks to efforts combined between the topographers at Melancholy's and his own personal travels. He inwardly mused which parts me might fill in next, turning away only at the sound of a polite cough in close proximity. He smiled at the darkly clad man before him
'Apologies my friend, the older I get, the more I tend to drift off into other worlds.'
The man laughed, his leather armor creaking slightly at the movement. Shaking his head so as to neither confirm or deny Throm's statement he spoke in a voice that betrayed years of smoke inhalation and soft spoken words.
'We've been unable to locate her. Thus it may prove difficult to ensure her safety.'
Throm nodded. His eyes scouting over the man to determine the sincerity of his statement. A short time ago, it would have been only a quick word throughout the web the Emirc Dezinagro Syndicate maintained and the information would have been at his fingertips. He turned to the bookcase closest him, and slowly ascended the ladder to the top rung as he searched aimlessly along the upper shelves.
'There may be another way. As we speak a man by the name of Colin Stone searches the manor for either me or Sanria. He will fare better better than you I imagine.'
Again the man laughed. If his feelings were hurt his ashen face showed no sign of it.
'I suppose you'd like me to follow Stone, who will lead me to Sanria?'
Throm frowned.
'His name is Colin, and it's not quite that easy. I will see to it that supply caches are at your disposal in case the worst should befall him. He's still trying to figure out what may be happening to him and does not yet know the full of it.'
The man raised an eyebrow. He ran a hand through a tangled mane of black hair.
'I don't know the full of it, nor the empty of it. What's happening to him.'
Throm shook his head, glaring down from the ladder for a moment before resuming his browsing along the book shelf.
'You don't need to know that. You'll know what to do when the time comes. But for now I'll recommend a hasty retreat, Colin is approaching.'
Throm didn't hear the man depart, but the voice of Colin behind him confirmed his leaving.
'Throm, hello.'
Throm stood from the table where he sat within his library and walked slowly over to the map which covered the northern wall of the room. Most of it had been filled in thanks to efforts combined between the topographers at Melancholy's and his own personal travels. He inwardly mused which parts me might fill in next, turning away only at the sound of a polite cough in close proximity. He smiled at the darkly clad man before him
'Apologies my friend, the older I get, the more I tend to drift off into other worlds.'
The man laughed, his leather armor creaking slightly at the movement. Shaking his head so as to neither confirm or deny Throm's statement he spoke in a voice that betrayed years of smoke inhalation and soft spoken words.
'We've been unable to locate her. Thus it may prove difficult to ensure her safety.'
Throm nodded. His eyes scouting over the man to determine the sincerity of his statement. A short time ago, it would have been only a quick word throughout the web the Emirc Dezinagro Syndicate maintained and the information would have been at his fingertips. He turned to the bookcase closest him, and slowly ascended the ladder to the top rung as he searched aimlessly along the upper shelves.
'There may be another way. As we speak a man by the name of Colin Stone searches the manor for either me or Sanria. He will fare better better than you I imagine.'
Again the man laughed. If his feelings were hurt his ashen face showed no sign of it.
'I suppose you'd like me to follow Stone, who will lead me to Sanria?'
Throm frowned.
'His name is Colin, and it's not quite that easy. I will see to it that supply caches are at your disposal in case the worst should befall him. He's still trying to figure out what may be happening to him and does not yet know the full of it.'
The man raised an eyebrow. He ran a hand through a tangled mane of black hair.
'I don't know the full of it, nor the empty of it. What's happening to him.'
Throm shook his head, glaring down from the ladder for a moment before resuming his browsing along the book shelf.
'You don't need to know that. You'll know what to do when the time comes. But for now I'll recommend a hasty retreat, Colin is approaching.'
Throm didn't hear the man depart, but the voice of Colin behind him confirmed his leaving.
'Throm, hello.'
Having Tea
"I knew you'd stay for tea," Karen, the help, said, her grin broad.
"I forgot my pack," Sanria said. Still, Throm simply looked weak. "Are you alright? You don't look quite your old self just yet."
"I am alright indeed. Feels good to be...myself again. Looking and feeling are to separate things. I'd rather look like hell and feel better than the opposite."
Karen, the help, held out a cup of tea, already poured, for Sanria. "Well, drink up the both of you. If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen." Karen, the help, seemed to nearly skip out of the room.
Throm looked too cold to Sanria. "Do you need to be closer to the fire?"
"I somehow think I could lie upon the coals and it wouldn't do the trick. Ever had those days?" Even with her coaxing, Throm wouldn't get up. Sanria did the one thing she had learned to do well in the past few months. She levitated Throm over to the fire, surprised by how light the man was. She set him on the floor before the fire and seated herself at his side.
"Come. Drink your tea or I can't leave."
Karen, the help, called from around the corner, "There's a whole pot."
Sanria finished her tea with a tinge of regret. "Well, if you'd like for me to drink the pot, I shall. Otherwise, I'll let you warm up by your lonesome. Or with Karen..."
"I wouldn't be opposed to you drinking the pot, I shall not I think," Throm said.
Before Sanria could even formulate a response, Karen, the help, whirled in from the kitchen, pot in hand, refilling both cups. A grin was perpetually on her face, and Sanria knew the woman was scheming. Still, she would have to end the visit at some point...no matter how accommodating and like his old self Throm was behaving. "Hang about infinitely if you will," he said, and Sanria's girlish heart soared.
They spoke more about his situation, Lithanus, the tea... it all seemed so right. As though the man Sanria found herself beside was the one she had met many years ago, and the green glow that came from his eyes was even more proof. Could she dare hope... Sanria looked down, her cup finished. "I think I've finished all my tea," she whispered, trying to avoid another refill.
"Would you like me to call for Karen?"
"Do we need more tea?" In a flash, Sanria's cup was full.
"There will be no empty cups in this house."
"I appreciate the tea and the conversation," Sanria said, finally getting up to leave.
"As do I. I can't tell you how relieved I am you stopped by."
"Relieved?"
"Things left unsaid and all that. I'm just glad we were able to have tea."
"Indeed. I suppose if we're speaking of things left unsaid, I should tell you the rest of what hasn't been said, then I can leave with a clear conscious?"
"I can't speak for your conscious but I would imagine it to be the truth yes."
Sanria leaned to Throm's ear. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to tell him how madly in love with him she was, just how long she had been, just how happy she was that he seemed like his old self, just how elated that at long last they could be together - the sky was the limit... but she chose instead to employ his own methods. She would not rush this. She would not ruin what she had waited so long to have. She would savor every moment with this old Throm. Getting to know him all over again. She whispered simply, "The tea was exquisite."
Sanria left the manor without even knowing how she got home. After so much doubt, she knew... at long last... she had her Throm.
"I forgot my pack," Sanria said. Still, Throm simply looked weak. "Are you alright? You don't look quite your old self just yet."
"I am alright indeed. Feels good to be...myself again. Looking and feeling are to separate things. I'd rather look like hell and feel better than the opposite."
Karen, the help, held out a cup of tea, already poured, for Sanria. "Well, drink up the both of you. If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen." Karen, the help, seemed to nearly skip out of the room.
Throm looked too cold to Sanria. "Do you need to be closer to the fire?"
"I somehow think I could lie upon the coals and it wouldn't do the trick. Ever had those days?" Even with her coaxing, Throm wouldn't get up. Sanria did the one thing she had learned to do well in the past few months. She levitated Throm over to the fire, surprised by how light the man was. She set him on the floor before the fire and seated herself at his side.
"Come. Drink your tea or I can't leave."
Karen, the help, called from around the corner, "There's a whole pot."
Sanria finished her tea with a tinge of regret. "Well, if you'd like for me to drink the pot, I shall. Otherwise, I'll let you warm up by your lonesome. Or with Karen..."
"I wouldn't be opposed to you drinking the pot, I shall not I think," Throm said.
Before Sanria could even formulate a response, Karen, the help, whirled in from the kitchen, pot in hand, refilling both cups. A grin was perpetually on her face, and Sanria knew the woman was scheming. Still, she would have to end the visit at some point...no matter how accommodating and like his old self Throm was behaving. "Hang about infinitely if you will," he said, and Sanria's girlish heart soared.
They spoke more about his situation, Lithanus, the tea... it all seemed so right. As though the man Sanria found herself beside was the one she had met many years ago, and the green glow that came from his eyes was even more proof. Could she dare hope... Sanria looked down, her cup finished. "I think I've finished all my tea," she whispered, trying to avoid another refill.
"Would you like me to call for Karen?"
"Do we need more tea?" In a flash, Sanria's cup was full.
"There will be no empty cups in this house."
"I appreciate the tea and the conversation," Sanria said, finally getting up to leave.
"As do I. I can't tell you how relieved I am you stopped by."
"Relieved?"
"Things left unsaid and all that. I'm just glad we were able to have tea."
"Indeed. I suppose if we're speaking of things left unsaid, I should tell you the rest of what hasn't been said, then I can leave with a clear conscious?"
"I can't speak for your conscious but I would imagine it to be the truth yes."
Sanria leaned to Throm's ear. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to tell him how madly in love with him she was, just how long she had been, just how happy she was that he seemed like his old self, just how elated that at long last they could be together - the sky was the limit... but she chose instead to employ his own methods. She would not rush this. She would not ruin what she had waited so long to have. She would savor every moment with this old Throm. Getting to know him all over again. She whispered simply, "The tea was exquisite."
Sanria left the manor without even knowing how she got home. After so much doubt, she knew... at long last... she had her Throm.
Meeting with Emalia
Sanria slunk down into the comfortable chair in her library and propped her feet up on the table. It had been a very, very, very long time since she had seen Throm - in fact, the last time she had seen him was as she fell asleep in his arms at the Paradise Island Hotel. The thought brought a blushing smile to her lips, and she rested her book on her lap, flipping open the pages.
Boring botany. It's what she had told Lithanus today when she met him. She wasn't sure what to make of the boy. Throm's son didn't much take after his father in the physical sense, which made sense of course, since his mother was elven. White hair to boot... the only feature she knew was the green eyes. Of course it set her to missing Throm even more, so when the boy gave such a cool response to her questions regarding his father, she couldn't help but feel her ire rising. It wouldn't do, however, to pry in family affairs. After all, she had her own to worry about. Still, she wondered what "mess" Lithanus knew Throm had gotten himself into, and worried for Throm's safety.
Her thoughts wandered over where Throm could be when a heavy knock was heard on the library door. Sanria glanced over and a wave of elation traveled through her like a spark. Emalia had come home. "Emalia!"
"Hello mother."
Sanria rose to her feet, snatching Emalia in a deep embrace. Tears sprang to her eyes for no apparent reason, and she stood back finally, gripping Emalia on the shoulders. "Good heavens, where have you been?"
"It's a rather long story."
"I suppose so! You look well... oh so much like your father."
"I finally talked to him."
"I see... what did he have to say?"
"Well, he talked to me about my powers and such... there's so much to tell."
Mother and daughter sat down at the table, Sanria clutched Emalia's hand in her own as if clinging to the hope she wouldn't vanish. There they sat for hours as Sanria listened to her daughter covering the journey, her new friends, her new "interest," and the fact that Thasmudyan was staying with her. The idea of Thasmudyan being in her daughter's home, after having been staying in temples right in Westbridge stung her, but she didn't dare let on in front of Emalia. "It sounds as though you've had quite a time."
"I still have more to do."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I'm only in the city until Nephesh heals completely. Then, we are going to seek out the Balefire mountains... wherever that is."
"I wouldn't know," Sanria said with caution, "but perhaps it might be better for you to stay. I wouldn't want something to happen to you, and I'm sure the Guardian's wouldn't either."
"Mother," Emalia sighed, "I know you're worried, but I'm a grown woman now."
The idea of her daughter being an adult had certainly crossed Sanria's mind on more than one occasion, but still, her instinct to protect was overwhelming. Only by sheer force of her will could she keep from lecturing her daughter. "I know. I know."
"Besides... I have to do this. At the very least, I'm able to keep people from worrying about me. Sir Throm won't have to come looking for you to give you updates."
"Throm was here? You... were here?"
Sanria watched the red creep into her daughter's face. "Yeah. I brought a friend by to show him the house and Sir Throm ended up here while we were here. I assured him I was alright and would let you know I was ok... once I worked up the nerve. He was oddly insistent about talking to you personally."
"Emalia... there is something you should know."
"What?"
"Well, your father and I aren't together anymore..."
"I thought that might be the case... he mentioned something about you two not being the same."
"And... on some level it's true. Things weren't going the way we thought they would. So, I started talking to Throm."
"He is a good person to speak to, isn't he?"
"Yes, but..."
Sanria took in a deep breath as realization dawned on Emalia's face. "You mean... you and Sir Throm?" Emalia asked.
"Well, yes. Though at the current time it's nothing more than-"
"Than the same thing with Colin and I. I get it."
"I'm sorry, Emalia."
"So life goes. I just feel a little foolish in all of this."
"No need to feel that way. It is how life goes in this case. I hope you're not upset."
"No, I'm just... nothing is as it seems, mother. I came here in the hopes that things would maybe, just maybe, be the same but... they aren't. They aren't the same anywhere."
It hurt to see her daughter so distraught, but Sanria knew it was better to let everything out than to hide anything. At least now, she wouldn't be so separate from her daughter. Emalia would come visit her again, and she had her word. The moon was rising as Emalia walked away and Sanria closed the front door. Thoughts were swimming through her head - old thoughts, new thoughts, and the thoughts of where her daughter's life would take her next.
Boring botany. It's what she had told Lithanus today when she met him. She wasn't sure what to make of the boy. Throm's son didn't much take after his father in the physical sense, which made sense of course, since his mother was elven. White hair to boot... the only feature she knew was the green eyes. Of course it set her to missing Throm even more, so when the boy gave such a cool response to her questions regarding his father, she couldn't help but feel her ire rising. It wouldn't do, however, to pry in family affairs. After all, she had her own to worry about. Still, she wondered what "mess" Lithanus knew Throm had gotten himself into, and worried for Throm's safety.
Her thoughts wandered over where Throm could be when a heavy knock was heard on the library door. Sanria glanced over and a wave of elation traveled through her like a spark. Emalia had come home. "Emalia!"
"Hello mother."
Sanria rose to her feet, snatching Emalia in a deep embrace. Tears sprang to her eyes for no apparent reason, and she stood back finally, gripping Emalia on the shoulders. "Good heavens, where have you been?"
"It's a rather long story."
"I suppose so! You look well... oh so much like your father."
"I finally talked to him."
"I see... what did he have to say?"
"Well, he talked to me about my powers and such... there's so much to tell."
Mother and daughter sat down at the table, Sanria clutched Emalia's hand in her own as if clinging to the hope she wouldn't vanish. There they sat for hours as Sanria listened to her daughter covering the journey, her new friends, her new "interest," and the fact that Thasmudyan was staying with her. The idea of Thasmudyan being in her daughter's home, after having been staying in temples right in Westbridge stung her, but she didn't dare let on in front of Emalia. "It sounds as though you've had quite a time."
"I still have more to do."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I'm only in the city until Nephesh heals completely. Then, we are going to seek out the Balefire mountains... wherever that is."
"I wouldn't know," Sanria said with caution, "but perhaps it might be better for you to stay. I wouldn't want something to happen to you, and I'm sure the Guardian's wouldn't either."
"Mother," Emalia sighed, "I know you're worried, but I'm a grown woman now."
The idea of her daughter being an adult had certainly crossed Sanria's mind on more than one occasion, but still, her instinct to protect was overwhelming. Only by sheer force of her will could she keep from lecturing her daughter. "I know. I know."
"Besides... I have to do this. At the very least, I'm able to keep people from worrying about me. Sir Throm won't have to come looking for you to give you updates."
"Throm was here? You... were here?"
Sanria watched the red creep into her daughter's face. "Yeah. I brought a friend by to show him the house and Sir Throm ended up here while we were here. I assured him I was alright and would let you know I was ok... once I worked up the nerve. He was oddly insistent about talking to you personally."
"Emalia... there is something you should know."
"What?"
"Well, your father and I aren't together anymore..."
"I thought that might be the case... he mentioned something about you two not being the same."
"And... on some level it's true. Things weren't going the way we thought they would. So, I started talking to Throm."
"He is a good person to speak to, isn't he?"
"Yes, but..."
Sanria took in a deep breath as realization dawned on Emalia's face. "You mean... you and Sir Throm?" Emalia asked.
"Well, yes. Though at the current time it's nothing more than-"
"Than the same thing with Colin and I. I get it."
"I'm sorry, Emalia."
"So life goes. I just feel a little foolish in all of this."
"No need to feel that way. It is how life goes in this case. I hope you're not upset."
"No, I'm just... nothing is as it seems, mother. I came here in the hopes that things would maybe, just maybe, be the same but... they aren't. They aren't the same anywhere."
It hurt to see her daughter so distraught, but Sanria knew it was better to let everything out than to hide anything. At least now, she wouldn't be so separate from her daughter. Emalia would come visit her again, and she had her word. The moon was rising as Emalia walked away and Sanria closed the front door. Thoughts were swimming through her head - old thoughts, new thoughts, and the thoughts of where her daughter's life would take her next.
To the future
Sanria walked through the woods of Haon Dor, listening to the crunch of dirt, sticks, and leaves her feet created with each step. Through her aging mind came flooding years of information and misinformation, good choices and bad. In her life after leaving the grove, she had several exceptional years of bliss and joy... those spent with Thasmudyan. After the seeming lifetime of misery after his death, and return, and "death" - she had found almost by accident someone she felt she could spend the rest of her life with. Now, her thoughts on this were much less steady than her feet passing along the ground. She sat down on a boulder that jutted from the base of a tree and put her head into her hand.
The trip to Paradise Island with Throm was now in the past. When she had risen to find herself alone, she automatically assumed he was perhaps on the island somewhere. After waiting the day, she realized he wasn't. She had gone home without a word from him, but it didn't cause any fear or doubts as it would have years before. Her assumption was that his duties had taken him and he would return soon. Soon she had spoken to Lithanus, a meeting that in her mind, didn't go as well as it could have. Then, she met with him again today.
The boy seemed nonchalant about his father being gone. A fact which irritated Sanria to no end. Lithanus had better things to do than find his father – this after finding out that he had "lost" him. Many other things came to the fore, making Sanria wish she had never left her home in the first place. She simply couldn't understand what deed she had committed to make the realms choose her for punishment again and again. Just when her grasp on life had seemed to solidify, life slipped away in a haze or doubt and teasing despair.
Her body slipped a bit from the boulder, jerking Sanria back to the present. Birds sang and around her could be heard the scampering of small animals. Here was here home and all she wished was at that instant to sink into it and not have to return, but thoughts such as these, she knew, did nothing to help her. She would have to locate this Paxian jail and speak to the Remus, Nathaniel man who apparently would lend a hand since it was for the benefit of Throm.
First, however, she would do something she'd not done in a long time. Licking her lips, she rolled up her sleeve and placed a hand on the trunk of the tree at her side. A warm conduit flowed from her palms and onto the bark, slowly seeping into the tree itself. Her mind flooded with images of densely packed wood as she spoke her question: "Is Throm safe?" The swirling warmth which held her consciousness gradually elevated through the trunk, out to the branches, and into the leaves. She was at this instant, one with the entire forest, and any other living tree that touched it. Her mind traveled from tree to tree, from leaf to leaf, joining with the ancient knowledge of the wood - the irritations ofbeing gnawed by squirrels, the sorrow of being half consumed by fire, even the loss of a dear friend to a woodsman's axe- all these joined with her question and swelled to seek more information. She had only a fleeting answer in the form of irritation at the disruption of the quiet of the forest by an airship heading north. She reached beyond the woods for a moment and by sheer connection of life to life, soul to soul, she knew it was he. Her mind raced back in a manner of seconds through all the leaves and branches of interconnected forests and she wrapped her arms suddenly about the trunk of the tree at her side. Tears coursed down her face as she offered a thanks and attempted to separate her own feelings from those she had acquired in the pursuit of knowledge.
For several minutes, she couldn't move, and Sanria found herself simply dwelling on how she would track Throm. She wanted to start right away, but knowing the ruthless nature of the northern lands, this Remus fellow might be very helpful indeed. From her pack, she took a small whistle, and pierced the air with its song. In response to the high trill, a falcon's call could be heard. Snow-white from tip to tail, Ferin perched above her and cocked his head. "Friend, you will find what you need to know in the thoughts I will send you. Go to him, and be certain you keep watch for my own benefit."
Sanria closed her eyes, linking with the falcon - speaking with him telepathically in a very slow manner, giving to him all she knew from the discourse with the trees. With a long call followed by a few sharp clicks, Ferin flew from his mistress and into the sky beyond. When she had rested fully, she would seek a companion. For now, she lay wondering what she would do when she would meet once more with Throm - the rest of her life hinged on a choice and she was deathly afraid to make it.
The trip to Paradise Island with Throm was now in the past. When she had risen to find herself alone, she automatically assumed he was perhaps on the island somewhere. After waiting the day, she realized he wasn't. She had gone home without a word from him, but it didn't cause any fear or doubts as it would have years before. Her assumption was that his duties had taken him and he would return soon. Soon she had spoken to Lithanus, a meeting that in her mind, didn't go as well as it could have. Then, she met with him again today.
The boy seemed nonchalant about his father being gone. A fact which irritated Sanria to no end. Lithanus had better things to do than find his father – this after finding out that he had "lost" him. Many other things came to the fore, making Sanria wish she had never left her home in the first place. She simply couldn't understand what deed she had committed to make the realms choose her for punishment again and again. Just when her grasp on life had seemed to solidify, life slipped away in a haze or doubt and teasing despair.
Her body slipped a bit from the boulder, jerking Sanria back to the present. Birds sang and around her could be heard the scampering of small animals. Here was here home and all she wished was at that instant to sink into it and not have to return, but thoughts such as these, she knew, did nothing to help her. She would have to locate this Paxian jail and speak to the Remus, Nathaniel man who apparently would lend a hand since it was for the benefit of Throm.
First, however, she would do something she'd not done in a long time. Licking her lips, she rolled up her sleeve and placed a hand on the trunk of the tree at her side. A warm conduit flowed from her palms and onto the bark, slowly seeping into the tree itself. Her mind flooded with images of densely packed wood as she spoke her question: "Is Throm safe?" The swirling warmth which held her consciousness gradually elevated through the trunk, out to the branches, and into the leaves. She was at this instant, one with the entire forest, and any other living tree that touched it. Her mind traveled from tree to tree, from leaf to leaf, joining with the ancient knowledge of the wood - the irritations ofbeing gnawed by squirrels, the sorrow of being half consumed by fire, even the loss of a dear friend to a woodsman's axe- all these joined with her question and swelled to seek more information. She had only a fleeting answer in the form of irritation at the disruption of the quiet of the forest by an airship heading north. She reached beyond the woods for a moment and by sheer connection of life to life, soul to soul, she knew it was he. Her mind raced back in a manner of seconds through all the leaves and branches of interconnected forests and she wrapped her arms suddenly about the trunk of the tree at her side. Tears coursed down her face as she offered a thanks and attempted to separate her own feelings from those she had acquired in the pursuit of knowledge.
For several minutes, she couldn't move, and Sanria found herself simply dwelling on how she would track Throm. She wanted to start right away, but knowing the ruthless nature of the northern lands, this Remus fellow might be very helpful indeed. From her pack, she took a small whistle, and pierced the air with its song. In response to the high trill, a falcon's call could be heard. Snow-white from tip to tail, Ferin perched above her and cocked his head. "Friend, you will find what you need to know in the thoughts I will send you. Go to him, and be certain you keep watch for my own benefit."
Sanria closed her eyes, linking with the falcon - speaking with him telepathically in a very slow manner, giving to him all she knew from the discourse with the trees. With a long call followed by a few sharp clicks, Ferin flew from his mistress and into the sky beyond. When she had rested fully, she would seek a companion. For now, she lay wondering what she would do when she would meet once more with Throm - the rest of her life hinged on a choice and she was deathly afraid to make it.
White Wolf of Living
Kaliadra didn't know what had happened until she woke up. Fear flooded her elvish senses and she jumped to her feet before collapsing back to the ground. She recognized where she was as Sanria's cavern. She knew Colin, she recognized the purple esper priest and the other with silver hair as the two that came into the realms after Sanria. They spoke and it slowly came to Kaliadra that Gilean had brought them back to life after Sanria had killed herself - and her.
From the conversation it was clear that Sanria had lost her memory, something Kaliadra found as a bit of a blessing. "Throm is dead, isn't he?" she finally asked.
"Yes... how did you...?"
"I could feel it... I could see in her mind at the very end."
Though she couldn't feel any pain from Sanria any longer, Kaliadra felt her own sense of loss. She was still connected, but worlds apart. It was a feeling she didn't want to think about. She turned to Gilean and leveled her gaze. "You are fortunate she remembers nothing... because if she recalled the torment she was going through, she'd probably want to kill you for bringing her back."
Once more, Kaliadra resigned herself to a fate reserved for her people when they had done inconceivable wrong. She shimmered once more into the form of a wolf. Within days, she would begin to forget. Within a month - she'd cease thinking like an elf. Blissful peace in an animal- like existence. "It all felt so wrong...' Gilean said. "I didn't realize that part of that was you."
Kaliadra looked back at the healer, understanding his words and taking them to mean she was an unexpected burden. It struck her deeply, and with a final sigh, she limped on all fours out of the cavern and into the forests beyond.
From the conversation it was clear that Sanria had lost her memory, something Kaliadra found as a bit of a blessing. "Throm is dead, isn't he?" she finally asked.
"Yes... how did you...?"
"I could feel it... I could see in her mind at the very end."
Though she couldn't feel any pain from Sanria any longer, Kaliadra felt her own sense of loss. She was still connected, but worlds apart. It was a feeling she didn't want to think about. She turned to Gilean and leveled her gaze. "You are fortunate she remembers nothing... because if she recalled the torment she was going through, she'd probably want to kill you for bringing her back."
Once more, Kaliadra resigned herself to a fate reserved for her people when they had done inconceivable wrong. She shimmered once more into the form of a wolf. Within days, she would begin to forget. Within a month - she'd cease thinking like an elf. Blissful peace in an animal- like existence. "It all felt so wrong...' Gilean said. "I didn't realize that part of that was you."
Kaliadra looked back at the healer, understanding his words and taking them to mean she was an unexpected burden. It struck her deeply, and with a final sigh, she limped on all fours out of the cavern and into the forests beyond.
Hormonal Imbalances
Emalia sat on the edge of the bed with her tears rolling down her cheeks. Once again she had completely made a fool of herself, and while the rest of the realms knew pregnancy could make a woman crazy, no one left a memo for Emalia. All she knew is that when Throm showed up before dawn saying something was wrong with her, then not really believing her when she said she was fine - the anger she had over his interference with her parent's "happily ever after" and his doubt of her understanding of herself boiled over.
Apparently, someone from somewhere had informed Throm that Emalia had contact with Grobnak which left her infected with something like hemelia. Emalia knew this wasn't true, she could see directly into herself, she could search her very essence for anything impure, and nothing was there. But with Colin holding her hands, she could sense, like the rumble of a storm on the horizon, something was amiss.
She didn't seek out what it was, but it didn't seem to matter. While Colin believed her words, Throm seemed uncertain. It burned her up to know that he still doubted her, he still didn't believe. 'Arrogant,' she thought to herself. Then Throm was simply ready to leave without a word of what this "disease" might be, or what they could do to help Colin.
Emalia was outraged, and even more irritated that she couldn't control the torrent of feelings that shuddered through her body. Throm had come in the small hours of the morning - it was obvious by that act something was dreadfully wrong, but he was dismissive, stating all would be well. 'Like hell,' Emalia thought. He was putting her husband in danger, and possibly herself, and her baby. "You may have taken my mother, but I won't let you take Colin!"
The brief look of shock on Throm's face was replaced with a small smile that drove Emalia mad."I don't intend to take anyone Emalia...believe me."
At that instant, Emalia was ready to seek out Grobnak for herself. She wouldn't risk venturing into Colin to discover what was in there, since it could harm Brin, but she would seek out the man who did this to him. Colin tried to calm her as these thoughts raged through her.
"My timing was off...I should have waited for the morning. I came not because I feared you both would vanish overnight. I acted upon selfish impulse in the service of self pacification by knowing you two were okay," Throm said."Selfish." Emalia glared at Throm now. "Seems that way."
Listening to Colin finally, Emalia walked to the bed and sat with her head in her hand, just as she sat now. Colin and Throm had walked out, and she simply couldn't help the tears. For these moments, she was glad to have Colin. For on both sides, no one trusted her it seemed, except for him. He was her saving grace, and she tried to rid herself of the tears before he returned.
Apparently, someone from somewhere had informed Throm that Emalia had contact with Grobnak which left her infected with something like hemelia. Emalia knew this wasn't true, she could see directly into herself, she could search her very essence for anything impure, and nothing was there. But with Colin holding her hands, she could sense, like the rumble of a storm on the horizon, something was amiss.
She didn't seek out what it was, but it didn't seem to matter. While Colin believed her words, Throm seemed uncertain. It burned her up to know that he still doubted her, he still didn't believe. 'Arrogant,' she thought to herself. Then Throm was simply ready to leave without a word of what this "disease" might be, or what they could do to help Colin.
Emalia was outraged, and even more irritated that she couldn't control the torrent of feelings that shuddered through her body. Throm had come in the small hours of the morning - it was obvious by that act something was dreadfully wrong, but he was dismissive, stating all would be well. 'Like hell,' Emalia thought. He was putting her husband in danger, and possibly herself, and her baby. "You may have taken my mother, but I won't let you take Colin!"
The brief look of shock on Throm's face was replaced with a small smile that drove Emalia mad."I don't intend to take anyone Emalia...believe me."
At that instant, Emalia was ready to seek out Grobnak for herself. She wouldn't risk venturing into Colin to discover what was in there, since it could harm Brin, but she would seek out the man who did this to him. Colin tried to calm her as these thoughts raged through her.
"My timing was off...I should have waited for the morning. I came not because I feared you both would vanish overnight. I acted upon selfish impulse in the service of self pacification by knowing you two were okay," Throm said."Selfish." Emalia glared at Throm now. "Seems that way."
Listening to Colin finally, Emalia walked to the bed and sat with her head in her hand, just as she sat now. Colin and Throm had walked out, and she simply couldn't help the tears. For these moments, she was glad to have Colin. For on both sides, no one trusted her it seemed, except for him. He was her saving grace, and she tried to rid herself of the tears before he returned.
Legacy V
Further up a terraced hill was a Victorian styled mansion, and under the cover of the night a figure walked over the black stone pavement to the entrance. On the way he passed a fountain, shaped like a dragon, but it had stopped gurgling water a while ago. Reaching the door, he simply stepped through. Pass door has its uses, thought Ror as he looked up from under his hood to the glorious, marble entry hall. Very fancy, he thought and he stepped on the soft rug, muffling his footsteps. Passing an extinct fireplace, he practically glided through the hallways of the mansion, unseen and quiet, until he found a door with on it "Authorized Personell Only". Ror stopped, sensing the air around him, then decided to go up the spiral staircase instead. He wandered around the mansion, inspecting rooms one by one. Eventually, he went up into a tower that had an interesting number of chambers, each one more magically impressive than the other. And at last, at the top of the tower, Ror found what he had been looking for: a devastated workroom; Throm's devastated workroom.
Having read Throm's notes for days, the research logs, and every scrap of information he could find in the Tripower Archive, he had a pretty good idea of what happened here. He kneeled and picked up a crystal from the floor with his black leather gloved hand. He pocketed it safely away, before sampling some of the mist with an empty test tube. Ror had made it a habit to carry a few empty ones with him.
He stood up, then magically disappeared, returning to the Tripower.
Having read Throm's notes for days, the research logs, and every scrap of information he could find in the Tripower Archive, he had a pretty good idea of what happened here. He kneeled and picked up a crystal from the floor with his black leather gloved hand. He pocketed it safely away, before sampling some of the mist with an empty test tube. Ror had made it a habit to carry a few empty ones with him.
He stood up, then magically disappeared, returning to the Tripower.
Winds of Change
His incorporeal form standing unseen at the Eastern Gate of Kefkaburg, Throm watched on as the last of The Tripower Eastern Blockade marched eastward back towards the capitol city of Torregiano. This had never been The Tripower's fight nor would it ever be. Vector wasn't worth even keeping an eye on any more. And so the eye of the Kingdom was turning elsewhere for the moment. At a whim Throm willed his mind into a coexisting yet equally unseen form that stood at the base of the fountain within the city's Market Square. It was busy today and the citizens of the city bustled around and quite literally through him as they went on about their business. At first glance one might judge the scene to be just another day in the life of a major trade hub. But Throm could smell the odor of the malcontents, he could feel the white hot rays of anger in the air itself. Not a week ago, a high ranking officer of Vector was found murdered in his room. Rumors of espers defying Vector by providing aid to those in need ran rampant among the people, bolstering courage. A bombing of some sort had taken out Festival Square not a week ago. More rumors that someone was amassing a vast quantity of arms and supplies trickled through even the even deeper channels of the city's underground networks. Even this morning, bodies belonging to a Vectorian patrol had been found nailed to the walls of Shar's Church. 'Yes,' Throm thought, 'the winds of change are more than beginning to blow. Westbridge will do fine for itself if they band together and stay the course.' Once again Throm's surroundings changed as he phased out of reality his two ethereal duplicates, returning to a third. As the familiar walls of his office within the Tripower Tower returned, Throm couldn't help but privately wonder what was to become of the small city in the end. 'Time will tell.' he thought as he dismissed the subject from his mind for the last time.
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