As Sanria stared at the cottage, a low whistling could be heard. She turned to find Thasmudyan. She did not have the rush of emotion she used to have. It was simply like meeting an old friend - albeit one you were embarrassed to inform of your polyandry. Still, they spoke, Sanria noting the distinct absence of any questions about Nioma. He had truly let go of his daughter. She gave him a tour of the castle, inviting him to apply to the Keepers, and after a bite to eat, they said their goodbyes. Sanria checked her mental list. She could say truthfully that she was no longer in love with Thasmudyan, but she hoped that he would be part of the Keepers and remain her friend.
She returned to the cavern later that evening after finishing a bit of work. That night she spoke with Colin, determining that the two men were at odds. Colin spoke about how they should be together, and Sanria found herself thinking about the way Gilean looked at her. She had seen he and Claire together, she saw the concern on his face when she sat in the living room. She knew what it looked like when someone was holding back what they felt. She certainly thought she had seen it on Gilean's face.
Sanria offered Gilean the chance to leave, to not feel obligated to stay. The answer was a resounding no. Sanria frowned at the distress on Gilean's face and was confused. He said he loved her, wanted to be with her, that she was the mother of his children, and wanted her to want him. She felt guilty that she didn't want him to leave, but at the same time... at the same time she knew that somewhere inside of his mind, of his heart... she was his second choice.
The following day she sat at the kitchen table alone. She closed her eyes. "Leandra, I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but, I truly need your help."
The flippant acid reply came back, "What do you want, mom?"
"I need you to tell me where I can find Claire."
Showing posts with label Thasmudyan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thasmudyan. Show all posts
Conealing Tensions
This was to be her sixth child and Sanria had lost count in how many pregnancies. Gilean had chosen the name, Sandorin, which Sanria felt perfect. Her brother had been long dead now. He would have been delighted to have a little one named for him. She wondered what he'd think of all this.
They had sped up nature's processes as well, making her pregnancy go much faster than normal. Unlike the times when she'd slept with Thasmudyan, however, this time was thanks to Gilean's magic.
It was a strange day in that Sanria had the cavern to herself. Orn was at the castle, Mirin was off with the bubbly and excited twins, Colin had taken Nioma out to play, and Gilean was off with Matinus - bonding. She had been through having children before, so the sensation was not new. She felt the contractions and her water break, and knew she had a little time before things grew intense. She didn't want the family rushing back with worry. She reached out to Enmach.
A mere hour later, she was looking into the eyes of her son. He, too, seemed to take her in before falling asleep. He had only cried for a moment - the indignity of being nude - before going utterly calm. Enmach left congratulations in her wake, and Sanria was left with her son only moments before everyone came back.
Though happiness seemed to be the prevailing sentiment, Sanria could see the sorrow of Colin's face that she'd be spending more time with Gilean and Sandorin, and the hurt on Gilean's face that she hadn't called him to tend the birth. Then - something on both of their faces, buried under their joys and kindnesses - worry.
They had sped up nature's processes as well, making her pregnancy go much faster than normal. Unlike the times when she'd slept with Thasmudyan, however, this time was thanks to Gilean's magic.
It was a strange day in that Sanria had the cavern to herself. Orn was at the castle, Mirin was off with the bubbly and excited twins, Colin had taken Nioma out to play, and Gilean was off with Matinus - bonding. She had been through having children before, so the sensation was not new. She felt the contractions and her water break, and knew she had a little time before things grew intense. She didn't want the family rushing back with worry. She reached out to Enmach.
A mere hour later, she was looking into the eyes of her son. He, too, seemed to take her in before falling asleep. He had only cried for a moment - the indignity of being nude - before going utterly calm. Enmach left congratulations in her wake, and Sanria was left with her son only moments before everyone came back.
Though happiness seemed to be the prevailing sentiment, Sanria could see the sorrow of Colin's face that she'd be spending more time with Gilean and Sandorin, and the hurt on Gilean's face that she hadn't called him to tend the birth. Then - something on both of their faces, buried under their joys and kindnesses - worry.
After Hours
Sanria knew Gilean wasn't happy about the meeting, but she assured him that there was nothing to fear, that Orn and Leandra would be there to keep anything from happening between her and Colin. The meeting itself went horribly, which Sanria had anticipated. Though Orn kept his calm for the most part, Leandra had broken down into near hysterics over the life Sanria had chosen. Sanria looked at Orn's face, noting the pain he felt, she looked at Colin's face as he tried to patiently reason with Leandra, and she listened to her daughter as she sobbed out all the reasons why this wasn't real because until she came home, they weren't really a family at all.
"I can't accept your new family, Mom. I'm... sorry." Leandra got up and Sanria felt desperation settle into her chest.
"Please... don't go away angry. Please, try to understand."
"I've tried for a long time... and I just can't."
Leandra left them and Colin reached across the table to hold her hand. It startled her, feeling the large, warm hand enfold her own and she felt comfort, which gave way to panic as Orn, too, left through his portal. Suddenly, Sanria found herself alone, across the table from Colin who had not let go of her hand.
Sanria had every intention of leaving and every motivation to do so. She crossed the table to hug Colin goodbye and the large arms stayed wrapped around her, tracing her back. The entire time he'd forgotten her, all she wanted was for him to remember so they could get their lives back. She wanted this feeling, to have Colin back the way he was long ago- after Visha, before the rift- the Colin she'd fallen in love with. They'd all told her it was no use, and she'd run from man to man hoping to find it. She'd stayed with Gilean because he gave her comfort... and then it was all turned on its head.
Had she not been with Gilean, Velentham wouldn't have allowed Colin to remember anything anyway. In a way, things had to be the way they were for this to even be happening. For as little as she felt standing with Thasmudyan, standing with Colin had her every hair standing on end. It didn't let up, and she felt herself swept off her feet, carried up to a bedroom that she knew intimately. Everything else was forgotten for a very long stretch of time. Then... she had to go home.
"I can't accept your new family, Mom. I'm... sorry." Leandra got up and Sanria felt desperation settle into her chest.
"Please... don't go away angry. Please, try to understand."
"I've tried for a long time... and I just can't."
Leandra left them and Colin reached across the table to hold her hand. It startled her, feeling the large, warm hand enfold her own and she felt comfort, which gave way to panic as Orn, too, left through his portal. Suddenly, Sanria found herself alone, across the table from Colin who had not let go of her hand.
Sanria had every intention of leaving and every motivation to do so. She crossed the table to hug Colin goodbye and the large arms stayed wrapped around her, tracing her back. The entire time he'd forgotten her, all she wanted was for him to remember so they could get their lives back. She wanted this feeling, to have Colin back the way he was long ago- after Visha, before the rift- the Colin she'd fallen in love with. They'd all told her it was no use, and she'd run from man to man hoping to find it. She'd stayed with Gilean because he gave her comfort... and then it was all turned on its head.
Had she not been with Gilean, Velentham wouldn't have allowed Colin to remember anything anyway. In a way, things had to be the way they were for this to even be happening. For as little as she felt standing with Thasmudyan, standing with Colin had her every hair standing on end. It didn't let up, and she felt herself swept off her feet, carried up to a bedroom that she knew intimately. Everything else was forgotten for a very long stretch of time. Then... she had to go home.
Rabbits, Thasmudyan, and Meetings
Sanria stared at Velentham's grave once more as the stream running by the cottage stumbled over rocks with grumbles. A single blade of grass was sticking out of the mounded dirt, earning Sanria's ire. Whatever grew out of that ground was feeding off of his rotting corpse. Whatever grew out of that ground was part him. Sanria lifted a finger and zapped the grass out of existence. It withered away, curling up into a blackened mass, the smoke rising into the air. If she could have destroyed the smoke, she would have done that, too. He'd destroyed a child, he'd created another, and then tried to kill her because of his sick mind goading him on. Loathing was the least of her thoughts.
A small tug at her robes caused Sanria to look down. A rabbit sat on its haunches, a small scroll attached with a string around its fat belly. She freed the message, though the rabbit sat for a long moment before leaving:
Sanria,
I know you aren't exactly happy with what happened last time. I understand, but I need to see you. Not just me, but the kids too. I'm calling a family meeting - Me, you, Orn, and Leandra. We need to sit down and talk. Leandra is moving out but she's doing it out of anger, and Orn is still hurt by everything. I just want to try to clear the air for them. Please, come tomorrow at 6. Oliver, the rabbit, will bring back a message if you want him to, or just show up.
Colin
Oliver was gone when Sanria looked back up. She had made it into the house when the doorbell rang. Thasmudyan had come by to apologize. She let him see Nioma and lamented how Maya would not let the girl come to see her sister. She looked out over the forest, feeling a hole in her chest. Thasmudyan didn't love Maya. She didn't love Thasmudyan... there was nothing to be jealous over anymore. Velentham had ripped something out of her, stomped it, and made the small things in her life trivial. Only the sight of Nioma in Thasmudyan's arms warmed her a bit.
Gilean came out and she noted the jealousy as it flashed over his face on seeing Thasmudyan. It was getting to be too much, standing here with a past on one side, a future on the other, a request to join a family for a meeting... she went into the house with Gilean, told him she would be joining Colin and the kids, then found her way back outside to stare harder at Velentham's barren hill of dirt.
A small tug at her robes caused Sanria to look down. A rabbit sat on its haunches, a small scroll attached with a string around its fat belly. She freed the message, though the rabbit sat for a long moment before leaving:
Sanria,
I know you aren't exactly happy with what happened last time. I understand, but I need to see you. Not just me, but the kids too. I'm calling a family meeting - Me, you, Orn, and Leandra. We need to sit down and talk. Leandra is moving out but she's doing it out of anger, and Orn is still hurt by everything. I just want to try to clear the air for them. Please, come tomorrow at 6. Oliver, the rabbit, will bring back a message if you want him to, or just show up.
Colin
Oliver was gone when Sanria looked back up. She had made it into the house when the doorbell rang. Thasmudyan had come by to apologize. She let him see Nioma and lamented how Maya would not let the girl come to see her sister. She looked out over the forest, feeling a hole in her chest. Thasmudyan didn't love Maya. She didn't love Thasmudyan... there was nothing to be jealous over anymore. Velentham had ripped something out of her, stomped it, and made the small things in her life trivial. Only the sight of Nioma in Thasmudyan's arms warmed her a bit.
Gilean came out and she noted the jealousy as it flashed over his face on seeing Thasmudyan. It was getting to be too much, standing here with a past on one side, a future on the other, a request to join a family for a meeting... she went into the house with Gilean, told him she would be joining Colin and the kids, then found her way back outside to stare harder at Velentham's barren hill of dirt.
Moving Out
Dear Diary,
I feel pretty bad. I think I really hurt my dad's feelings and I wasn't trying to, but he just won't listen to reason. I found him writing a song for my mom, trying to play a lyre, and sounding like a dying animal. He said he'd done it before but my mom made him go home. I guess that's when I called her and Gilean a jerk and everything kinda went downhill. I tried to be nice, honest. I just felt that feeling again.
Like a cold chill in my stomach that rises up and out to my hands while my face gets hot. It's like I can hear myself saying the words but I can't stop them from coming out. I reminded him how she slept with Ror AND Thasmudyan while he was out, in addition to Gilean. I mean, if she really loved any of them, she wouldn't have done that, right?
Well, he got moody and sad and I just realized that no matter what I said, he was always going to be upset for me saying it. Sucks, but I have to realize that a) I'll never have my parents together and devoted to each other, b)My mom is a whore, c)My dad has been duped, and d)No one will listen to me to hear the truth. So, I'm leaving. I already told Askari to start packing.
We're going to take Heiyu and move near the esper camp where Askari's racist dad used to live. I know we're leaving my dad by himself in this big house, but... I can't see him like this anymore and not be able to speak out. Maybe the space will help me to not be so angry. Who knows.
I love my dad, I wish he could feel it. I wish he would listen to me. If my mom would have only come back to him, committed, and apologized for her mistakes... maybe I could have loved her, too. The only thing left for me to do now is just walk away from both of them and let them sink or swim alone.
Leandra Stone
I feel pretty bad. I think I really hurt my dad's feelings and I wasn't trying to, but he just won't listen to reason. I found him writing a song for my mom, trying to play a lyre, and sounding like a dying animal. He said he'd done it before but my mom made him go home. I guess that's when I called her and Gilean a jerk and everything kinda went downhill. I tried to be nice, honest. I just felt that feeling again.
Like a cold chill in my stomach that rises up and out to my hands while my face gets hot. It's like I can hear myself saying the words but I can't stop them from coming out. I reminded him how she slept with Ror AND Thasmudyan while he was out, in addition to Gilean. I mean, if she really loved any of them, she wouldn't have done that, right?
Well, he got moody and sad and I just realized that no matter what I said, he was always going to be upset for me saying it. Sucks, but I have to realize that a) I'll never have my parents together and devoted to each other, b)My mom is a whore, c)My dad has been duped, and d)No one will listen to me to hear the truth. So, I'm leaving. I already told Askari to start packing.
We're going to take Heiyu and move near the esper camp where Askari's racist dad used to live. I know we're leaving my dad by himself in this big house, but... I can't see him like this anymore and not be able to speak out. Maybe the space will help me to not be so angry. Who knows.
I love my dad, I wish he could feel it. I wish he would listen to me. If my mom would have only come back to him, committed, and apologized for her mistakes... maybe I could have loved her, too. The only thing left for me to do now is just walk away from both of them and let them sink or swim alone.
Leandra Stone
Closing Chapters: A Futile Attempt
Sanria laid there beside Gilean, staring up at the ceiling. She had come back from "talking" to Colin, who seemed beside himself with the knowledge that during his memory lapse, time moved on. His wife moved on. His friend gained his wife. He was never expected to return to himself, and it made Sanria hate Velentham for being so cruel. He knew the pain it would cause and the accusations that would surface. It also made Sanria feel guilty. She made the choice to leave Colin, to involve herself with others, to remarry and plant herself in a family without fully getting over Colin. She had time, lots of it she assumed, because the Colin she knew was permanently gone. It was a horribly wrong assumption to make, apparently.
No Matter. She told Colin she had decided to stay with Gilean and the family they were building. The family that needed her most. She and Gilean to raise Matinus- son of Gilean and Claire, Nioma- daughter of Sanria and Thasmudyan, and the new soul that stirred within her - son of Velentham and Sanria. She let out a long sigh. After everything, her personal life was right where it always was: two streets down from a mess.
Her mind drifted to Kaliadra's words. Velentham's spell he had placed on her to keep her from dying so he could brutalize her and how it meant the never ending pain. A leap of shame bounded over her heart. The "talk" with Colin certainly wasn't felt only by herself. She thought of Leandra and what Colin had said about her anger management issues. Sanria's answer to both was the Rilmani. They knew so much...just not everything.
With yet another sigh, Sanria laid on her side. She'd told Gilean without telling him about the "talk." She'd told him she could no longer go alone to Colin. If she obeyed her own rule, the rest would work itself out with time. Everything would work itself out in time.
Sanria drifted to sleep at last, her mind looking forward. She'd do it right from here on out. Tomorrow began the new path and she'd start it on the floating island in the company of Fenlauch and Enmach. Removing eternity from her shared future was the first priority.
No Matter. She told Colin she had decided to stay with Gilean and the family they were building. The family that needed her most. She and Gilean to raise Matinus- son of Gilean and Claire, Nioma- daughter of Sanria and Thasmudyan, and the new soul that stirred within her - son of Velentham and Sanria. She let out a long sigh. After everything, her personal life was right where it always was: two streets down from a mess.
Her mind drifted to Kaliadra's words. Velentham's spell he had placed on her to keep her from dying so he could brutalize her and how it meant the never ending pain. A leap of shame bounded over her heart. The "talk" with Colin certainly wasn't felt only by herself. She thought of Leandra and what Colin had said about her anger management issues. Sanria's answer to both was the Rilmani. They knew so much...just not everything.
With yet another sigh, Sanria laid on her side. She'd told Gilean without telling him about the "talk." She'd told him she could no longer go alone to Colin. If she obeyed her own rule, the rest would work itself out with time. Everything would work itself out in time.
Sanria drifted to sleep at last, her mind looking forward. She'd do it right from here on out. Tomorrow began the new path and she'd start it on the floating island in the company of Fenlauch and Enmach. Removing eternity from her shared future was the first priority.
Current Character Description - Thasmudyan Haverland
Change weighs heavily on this unassuming figure, so much that those who once knew him would be hard-pressed to recognize his careworn face. His age is indeterminate, but he appears around middle-aged, and he has the look of a once-powerful man fallen on hard times. He is very thin, and seems frail at first glance; his dark hair is streaked through with white, and his voluminous, torn and dusty grey robe hangs loosely on his frame. He wears no jewelry or other accoutrements of power or wealth; the casual observer might easily mistake him for a beggar, were it not for the exquisitely carved ivory staff that he bears. It seems to catch and reflect the light around him, giving him an almost ethereal, mystical apperance.
There is more to this man than it seems at first, though; he walks with a smooth, even gait, without a trace of weariness, and when he looks up, his eyes are a deep, clear blue. His features, though worn and lined with age, reflect a surprising sense of calmness. There is a quiet sense of inner strength about him that belies his appearance of frailty; indeed, he seems to exude a strange confidence, a powerful sense of self, the mark of a man called by a power higher than himself.
There is more to this man than it seems at first, though; he walks with a smooth, even gait, without a trace of weariness, and when he looks up, his eyes are a deep, clear blue. His features, though worn and lined with age, reflect a surprising sense of calmness. There is a quiet sense of inner strength about him that belies his appearance of frailty; indeed, he seems to exude a strange confidence, a powerful sense of self, the mark of a man called by a power higher than himself.
Wayfinding
Orn sat at the desk in his newly allocated office within the Keepers clan hall. He thumbed through a large leather-bound tome, one of several he had stacked upon his desk, all relating to Ragnarok in one way or another. He wasn't finding much useful and most of the information he did uncover seemed speculative and contradictory. He was beginning to wonder if anyone really knew much about the Rok at all.
The going had been slow. Book research was never particularly one of his strengths. His mother could have probably poured through all of these tomes in one day but Orn had always preferred being active and outdoors as opposed to spending time in a library. At this point, the best he had been able to glean from most opinions were that travel to the Rok was difficult and hazardous, if not impossible, and that survivability upon the surface was slim to none. Orn didn't quite understand the varying theories as to why, words ranging from weave distortion to gravity compression to makou density interference, but those two facts seemed rather consistent.
It was all so frustrating. Enmach had essentially confirmed that Velentham was holding his mother there and it was starting to seem that perhaps that was a feat which could only be accomplished by something as powerful as a full Celestial wizard. Orn would love to ask more questions of Enmach but he hadn't seen her about and he was pretty sure she was avoiding him. He couldn't blame her though. He knew she hadjeopardized her position among her people by guiding him originally and he couldn't guarantee if he were able to pin her down that he wouldn't push her for even more information.
Orn was going to need help from elsewhere if he were to find his mother. He hadn't told Gilean the news about the Ragnarok. The last he had spoken to Gilean the priest looked especially troubled and Orn worried that news of such a remote captivity without a proposed solution might push him even deeper into despair. No, Orn would need someone else.
There was only one person he could think of that might be able to draw enough power to somehow make a trip to the Rok. A man who had once brought Orn back from certain death and ostensibly could tap into the very life of the planet if needed. Orn would seek out Thasmudyan, share his findings, and hope that there was some way to reach his mom.
The going had been slow. Book research was never particularly one of his strengths. His mother could have probably poured through all of these tomes in one day but Orn had always preferred being active and outdoors as opposed to spending time in a library. At this point, the best he had been able to glean from most opinions were that travel to the Rok was difficult and hazardous, if not impossible, and that survivability upon the surface was slim to none. Orn didn't quite understand the varying theories as to why, words ranging from weave distortion to gravity compression to makou density interference, but those two facts seemed rather consistent.
It was all so frustrating. Enmach had essentially confirmed that Velentham was holding his mother there and it was starting to seem that perhaps that was a feat which could only be accomplished by something as powerful as a full Celestial wizard. Orn would love to ask more questions of Enmach but he hadn't seen her about and he was pretty sure she was avoiding him. He couldn't blame her though. He knew she hadjeopardized her position among her people by guiding him originally and he couldn't guarantee if he were able to pin her down that he wouldn't push her for even more information.
Orn was going to need help from elsewhere if he were to find his mother. He hadn't told Gilean the news about the Ragnarok. The last he had spoken to Gilean the priest looked especially troubled and Orn worried that news of such a remote captivity without a proposed solution might push him even deeper into despair. No, Orn would need someone else.
There was only one person he could think of that might be able to draw enough power to somehow make a trip to the Rok. A man who had once brought Orn back from certain death and ostensibly could tap into the very life of the planet if needed. Orn would seek out Thasmudyan, share his findings, and hope that there was some way to reach his mom.
Fury and Realization
Gilean blasted down the old wooden door of Velentham's Heifong apartment with a blinding ray of white light, sending dry splinters flying in every direction. He charged through the rooms of the modest dwelling searching for Sanria. He knew it was foolish to expect for Velentham to have brought her here but Gilean had nothing else to go on. This was the only place he knew of that Velentham might have taken her but as the faint golden glow surrounding his body helped to illuminate one dingy corner after another he came to realize that his search was in vain.
Gilean exited onto Velentham's small balcony and sat heavily upon a small stone bench surrounded by crumpled cigarette butts. A wave of despair washed over him and the icy knot of dread in his gut tightened mercilessly. How could things have gone so wrong so quickly. A day just like any other. Helping those in need at the Temple of Lathander. A few moments of secluded meditation before leaving. Then arriving home to an empty house and a battered Thasmudyan in his front yard.
It was almost unbelievable. Gilean had taken every precaution to ensure Sanria would be safe from his delusional cousin. But somehow Velentham had used Thasmudyan to lure Sanria out and taken her. Damn Thasmudyan! How could he have been so naive? So stupid?
Gilean closed his eyes for a moment. No. It wasn't Thasmudyan's fault. Velentham was a celestial in full command of his abilities. He could influence people's thoughts and feelings... perhaps even someone as gifted as Thasmudyan. This wasn't time for placing blame. This was the time for finding and retrieving his wife.
He swallowed hard, trying to force down that icy ball in his gut. Gilean knew he couldn't do this alone. Yes, he was celestial, same as Velentham, but Gilean had been cast out by his people and stripped of most of his true nature, left with only limited command of the power within him. If he were to have any hope of finding Sanria and bringing her home safely, he would need all the help he could get.
The plain truth was, he was not the only one who cared for Sanria. For better or for worse, the were others who would not want to see her mistreated and as awkward as it may be, he was going to need their help. Gilean took a deep breath and stood from the bench, departing in a swirl of gold.
Gilean exited onto Velentham's small balcony and sat heavily upon a small stone bench surrounded by crumpled cigarette butts. A wave of despair washed over him and the icy knot of dread in his gut tightened mercilessly. How could things have gone so wrong so quickly. A day just like any other. Helping those in need at the Temple of Lathander. A few moments of secluded meditation before leaving. Then arriving home to an empty house and a battered Thasmudyan in his front yard.
It was almost unbelievable. Gilean had taken every precaution to ensure Sanria would be safe from his delusional cousin. But somehow Velentham had used Thasmudyan to lure Sanria out and taken her. Damn Thasmudyan! How could he have been so naive? So stupid?
Gilean closed his eyes for a moment. No. It wasn't Thasmudyan's fault. Velentham was a celestial in full command of his abilities. He could influence people's thoughts and feelings... perhaps even someone as gifted as Thasmudyan. This wasn't time for placing blame. This was the time for finding and retrieving his wife.
He swallowed hard, trying to force down that icy ball in his gut. Gilean knew he couldn't do this alone. Yes, he was celestial, same as Velentham, but Gilean had been cast out by his people and stripped of most of his true nature, left with only limited command of the power within him. If he were to have any hope of finding Sanria and bringing her home safely, he would need all the help he could get.
The plain truth was, he was not the only one who cared for Sanria. For better or for worse, the were others who would not want to see her mistreated and as awkward as it may be, he was going to need their help. Gilean took a deep breath and stood from the bench, departing in a swirl of gold.
Silver Eyes
She had tried. Sanria had tried to keep herself behind the ward, in the safety that Gilean had given her, but part of her still cared for Thasmudyan. He had come to warn her, a gesture most befitting his care and kindness. He told her that he had chosen against helping Velentham, and Sanria felt her heart soften. It was no mere feat to go against the coaxing that Celestials were capable of using. Then Velentham had shown up.
Sanria wasn't prepared for the sight, Velentham looked much more gaunt than he had looked before. His hair was a mess, his eyes glowing with a madness, and the only other time she had seen the same look of desperation on his face was when he had taken her away and forced himself upon her. She thought after that he would have left her alone. She thought after Velentham's fight with Colin so many years ago, he had forgotten her. His appearance, the face lined with hatred and desperation, proved otherwise. He had driven himself crazy.
So she tried. She tried to remind Thasmudyan of his obligations. Lyvinnia was still needing her father. And her calling out ended in disaster. She caused the hesitation on Thasmudyan's behalf, and Velentham had lashed out. All else was automatic. The ward forgotten in the hopes that if she got between the men the fight would end. Instead, Thasmudyan rushed forward, Velentham leapt over, and she was crushed in a vice-like grip with no hope of getting free.
It was not long after that Velentham's magic kept them suspended together in a bubble over a landscape boiling with fire and flame. He uttered a few words, and Sanria found herself unable to speak. Silence. Her eyes watered as the Celestial turned his gaze on her, his eyes burning silver, his gaunt face tight with a smile. "Don't cry, my love," he cooed, wiping her face with his free hand. "Soon this will all be but a distant memory and your pain will melt away."
Sanria felt the familiar tickle at the back of her mind and she knew in that instant that Velentham was already at work on her mind. The idea of escaping flashed in her mind, and the silver eyes narrowed for only a moment. "You will burn, love. And I can't have that." Tears rolled down her cheeks, kept liquid only by the bubble that surrounded them. Velentham pulled her close, kissing her mouth. Though she tried to pull back, she couldn't fight the grip that held her close. She could cast no spell. The stale cigarette smell in his hair was nearly all she could take, and he finally pulled back. With a smile, Velentham drifted their bubble closer to the fiery surface below, and Sanria knew she was utterly beyond help.
Sanria wasn't prepared for the sight, Velentham looked much more gaunt than he had looked before. His hair was a mess, his eyes glowing with a madness, and the only other time she had seen the same look of desperation on his face was when he had taken her away and forced himself upon her. She thought after that he would have left her alone. She thought after Velentham's fight with Colin so many years ago, he had forgotten her. His appearance, the face lined with hatred and desperation, proved otherwise. He had driven himself crazy.
So she tried. She tried to remind Thasmudyan of his obligations. Lyvinnia was still needing her father. And her calling out ended in disaster. She caused the hesitation on Thasmudyan's behalf, and Velentham had lashed out. All else was automatic. The ward forgotten in the hopes that if she got between the men the fight would end. Instead, Thasmudyan rushed forward, Velentham leapt over, and she was crushed in a vice-like grip with no hope of getting free.
It was not long after that Velentham's magic kept them suspended together in a bubble over a landscape boiling with fire and flame. He uttered a few words, and Sanria found herself unable to speak. Silence. Her eyes watered as the Celestial turned his gaze on her, his eyes burning silver, his gaunt face tight with a smile. "Don't cry, my love," he cooed, wiping her face with his free hand. "Soon this will all be but a distant memory and your pain will melt away."
Sanria felt the familiar tickle at the back of her mind and she knew in that instant that Velentham was already at work on her mind. The idea of escaping flashed in her mind, and the silver eyes narrowed for only a moment. "You will burn, love. And I can't have that." Tears rolled down her cheeks, kept liquid only by the bubble that surrounded them. Velentham pulled her close, kissing her mouth. Though she tried to pull back, she couldn't fight the grip that held her close. She could cast no spell. The stale cigarette smell in his hair was nearly all she could take, and he finally pulled back. With a smile, Velentham drifted their bubble closer to the fiery surface below, and Sanria knew she was utterly beyond help.
Straight Flush
"Do you still wish to persist, beggar?" Velentham stood, fully revealed in his celestial form. His wings bared, his silver eyes glowing, and his long sword at his side. "I gave my word, didn't I?" Thasmudyan said, and he rose, casting a shield about himself.
It was humorous, watching the pitiful man believe himself a worth foe, but it would only take a moment more. From the corner of his eye, Velentham watched Sanria growing more frantic. Only a moment more. "Stop! Thasmudyan, please!!! Velentham, please don't do this... Think of Lyvinnia! Please!!"
"Lyvinnia..." and the beggar turned toward Sanria.
Velentham began to chant the words of the same spell, this time intending fully release the power through the shield and into the very heart of the beggar. "You've got the damned things off now get back here!!!" Sanria screamed. And Velentham let the ball of energy fly.
The next sequence unfolded better than Velentham could have anticipated. The beggar's shield was barely enough to keep him from obliteration, but enough to get the man to charge. And when the beggar charged, Sanria fled the ward to stop him. Velentham vaulted himself into the air, gliding with ease over Thasmudyan's charge, and scooped Sanria into his arms.
Unadulterated and unbridled joy swept over Velentham's mind as he squeezed Sanria to him, overpowering her attempts to free herself. He grinned at Thasmudyan. "Good trade, beggar. And I thank you."
"Sanria!!"
"Have a good life."
With a single word, Velentham vanished with his prize in tow. Victory was his, and there would be nothing to take it away from him again.
It was humorous, watching the pitiful man believe himself a worth foe, but it would only take a moment more. From the corner of his eye, Velentham watched Sanria growing more frantic. Only a moment more. "Stop! Thasmudyan, please!!! Velentham, please don't do this... Think of Lyvinnia! Please!!"
"Lyvinnia..." and the beggar turned toward Sanria.
Velentham began to chant the words of the same spell, this time intending fully release the power through the shield and into the very heart of the beggar. "You've got the damned things off now get back here!!!" Sanria screamed. And Velentham let the ball of energy fly.
The next sequence unfolded better than Velentham could have anticipated. The beggar's shield was barely enough to keep him from obliteration, but enough to get the man to charge. And when the beggar charged, Sanria fled the ward to stop him. Velentham vaulted himself into the air, gliding with ease over Thasmudyan's charge, and scooped Sanria into his arms.
Unadulterated and unbridled joy swept over Velentham's mind as he squeezed Sanria to him, overpowering her attempts to free herself. He grinned at Thasmudyan. "Good trade, beggar. And I thank you."
"Sanria!!"
"Have a good life."
With a single word, Velentham vanished with his prize in tow. Victory was his, and there would be nothing to take it away from him again.
Four of a Kind
"Thasmudyan... no..." Sanria begged, and Velentham checked the bile that rose.
"You'll come out here and fight me?"
"He will kill you... he won't stop... please... don't offer this," Sanria begged. Velentham hated the way she clutched the beggar, but he had his goal. He would attain it.
"Answer the question, Velentham."
"I'll see to it that she won't touch Sanria."
"Thasmudyan! No!" Sanria raced to the front of the beggar, pleading with him.
"He is a Celestial, he is a wizard... he will kill you. Please..."
"Don't you see, Sanria? This is my chance to free you from all of this.. to atone for my mistakes," the beggar said.
Everything was falling into place, the stars aligning, the sounds of his own kind, singing to him in his mind. "I've answered my half, now make haste, beggar." He watched his woman hold Thasmudyan's hands up, showing him the bangles that held him captive. But the beggar had on his bravado, something Velentham had counted on. The beggar would do his best to show Sanria he was worthy. No sooner than the beggar stepped forward, did Velentham know he had what he wanted.
"Would be an awful lot more fun if you got rid of these first, you know," the beggar said, holding up his shackled wrists.
"Oh no, my friend. This must be quick, and who am I to make things harder by slowing them down with a magic flinging contest that I would win anyway?"
"Please!" Sanria said, pacing behind the ward.
"I never knew the Celestials to be cowards."
"Did you want to play, then?"
"Do you want the satisfaction of knowing you defeated me as I really am, or do you just want to kill a helpless human?"
"The lamb has teeth," Velentham said with a grin. "Very well."
The ancient spell Velentham used was one learned long ago, one his people had held in antiquity, one they used on their travels to slay evil of all kinds. It also had the ability to overpower many other types of magic. He summoned the spell, only partial strength, and in a flash of light, the shackles that held the beggar's magic in check were reduced to fragments and the beggar knocked onto his knees.
"You'll come out here and fight me?"
"He will kill you... he won't stop... please... don't offer this," Sanria begged. Velentham hated the way she clutched the beggar, but he had his goal. He would attain it.
"Answer the question, Velentham."
"I'll see to it that she won't touch Sanria."
"Thasmudyan! No!" Sanria raced to the front of the beggar, pleading with him.
"He is a Celestial, he is a wizard... he will kill you. Please..."
"Don't you see, Sanria? This is my chance to free you from all of this.. to atone for my mistakes," the beggar said.
Everything was falling into place, the stars aligning, the sounds of his own kind, singing to him in his mind. "I've answered my half, now make haste, beggar." He watched his woman hold Thasmudyan's hands up, showing him the bangles that held him captive. But the beggar had on his bravado, something Velentham had counted on. The beggar would do his best to show Sanria he was worthy. No sooner than the beggar stepped forward, did Velentham know he had what he wanted.
"Would be an awful lot more fun if you got rid of these first, you know," the beggar said, holding up his shackled wrists.
"Oh no, my friend. This must be quick, and who am I to make things harder by slowing them down with a magic flinging contest that I would win anyway?"
"Please!" Sanria said, pacing behind the ward.
"I never knew the Celestials to be cowards."
"Did you want to play, then?"
"Do you want the satisfaction of knowing you defeated me as I really am, or do you just want to kill a helpless human?"
"The lamb has teeth," Velentham said with a grin. "Very well."
The ancient spell Velentham used was one learned long ago, one his people had held in antiquity, one they used on their travels to slay evil of all kinds. It also had the ability to overpower many other types of magic. He summoned the spell, only partial strength, and in a flash of light, the shackles that held the beggar's magic in check were reduced to fragments and the beggar knocked onto his knees.
Full House
The idea that the beggar was able to call him out, to make him look bad in Sanria's eyes, was intolerable to Velentham and made him absolutely salivate with the desire to end Thasmudyan's life. Discretion, however, is the better part of valor, but that was difficult when his woman wouldn't tell the truth. When she said things such as, "I've never wanted you."
"Lies. If you didn't want me I wouldn't be here. You did at one time. Of your own free will."
"It doesn't matter. What matters is what she wants now. I'm willing to let her make that choice, though. You aren't," the beggar interrupted.
"She made her choice and they came and took her from me. I'm merely here to enforce the decision she made in the first place. Make her... keep her word."
"So what? Decisions change. She's chosen me before, too. Should I be holding her word to that?"
"If you weren't weak, perhaps you would."
The dark ichor of insanity crept back into the edges of Velentham's mind, only to be beaten back by an idea. He could see Sanria held some sort of affection for the beggar. Some desire to keep him safe. If he could get Thasmudyan to leave the safety of the ward, he could get Sanria to follow most certainly. He knew her mind from long ago. Knew she couldn't stop herself from helping the helpless. In that instant, the goal was in sight. "Why don't you come out here, beggar. Come meet with me on open ground. Here."
Velentham bent low, a genuflection that opened the space before him. He had felt the mind of Thasmudyan. Felt the wavering desires there. He knew the man could be coaxed. "Do you take me for a fool? You know that is no fair fight while I am so restrained," Thasmudyan said. Velentham looked to the shackles on the beggar's wrists. "I could always help you off with your arms and send you back to that filth you call a lifestream."
"As if you had the power to do that."
"Oh, but anyone does. Provided they take your life, so you said in our dis- cussion. You always come back. Like a cockroach. We can hit two birds with one stone, what do you say? I'll free you of your restraints, and get you out of my way. Better yet... I could help you find the little naked savage that sits out here waiting to see if you screw up."
"...Who?"
"How could you forget the dark-heart that mothered your own flesh and blood?"
"Maya's here? That's ...interesting, I suppose. But I have no need to find her."
"She has need to find you, beggar. Suffering seems to be one of her keenest desires, and to see you in the thick of it would suit her fine."
"She's here watching the cottage?" Sanria asked, and the sound of her voice was like a bell.
"She would have hurt you, but I won't let her. She simply wants to see someone suffer... and I'll gladly sacrifice the beggar for her needs and spare you the pain."
Sanria and the beggar conferred, and Velentham growled. To see the two of them speaking together sent his blood boiling. He could barely contain the ire when the beggar's voice was directed at him. "If I give you this fight you desire... Maya will leave Sanria alone?" And the clouds cleared, and the sun shone, and Velentham turned to the beggar with joy veiled only by the scowl on his face.
"Lies. If you didn't want me I wouldn't be here. You did at one time. Of your own free will."
"It doesn't matter. What matters is what she wants now. I'm willing to let her make that choice, though. You aren't," the beggar interrupted.
"She made her choice and they came and took her from me. I'm merely here to enforce the decision she made in the first place. Make her... keep her word."
"So what? Decisions change. She's chosen me before, too. Should I be holding her word to that?"
"If you weren't weak, perhaps you would."
The dark ichor of insanity crept back into the edges of Velentham's mind, only to be beaten back by an idea. He could see Sanria held some sort of affection for the beggar. Some desire to keep him safe. If he could get Thasmudyan to leave the safety of the ward, he could get Sanria to follow most certainly. He knew her mind from long ago. Knew she couldn't stop herself from helping the helpless. In that instant, the goal was in sight. "Why don't you come out here, beggar. Come meet with me on open ground. Here."
Velentham bent low, a genuflection that opened the space before him. He had felt the mind of Thasmudyan. Felt the wavering desires there. He knew the man could be coaxed. "Do you take me for a fool? You know that is no fair fight while I am so restrained," Thasmudyan said. Velentham looked to the shackles on the beggar's wrists. "I could always help you off with your arms and send you back to that filth you call a lifestream."
"As if you had the power to do that."
"Oh, but anyone does. Provided they take your life, so you said in our dis- cussion. You always come back. Like a cockroach. We can hit two birds with one stone, what do you say? I'll free you of your restraints, and get you out of my way. Better yet... I could help you find the little naked savage that sits out here waiting to see if you screw up."
"...Who?"
"How could you forget the dark-heart that mothered your own flesh and blood?"
"Maya's here? That's ...interesting, I suppose. But I have no need to find her."
"She has need to find you, beggar. Suffering seems to be one of her keenest desires, and to see you in the thick of it would suit her fine."
"She's here watching the cottage?" Sanria asked, and the sound of her voice was like a bell.
"She would have hurt you, but I won't let her. She simply wants to see someone suffer... and I'll gladly sacrifice the beggar for her needs and spare you the pain."
Sanria and the beggar conferred, and Velentham growled. To see the two of them speaking together sent his blood boiling. He could barely contain the ire when the beggar's voice was directed at him. "If I give you this fight you desire... Maya will leave Sanria alone?" And the clouds cleared, and the sun shone, and Velentham turned to the beggar with joy veiled only by the scowl on his face.
High Card
It was a sudden movement that caused Velentham to pause, to utter a spell of invisibility, to cloak himself and silence his rage. The beggar, and he was heading for the cottage. Velentham uttered a spell, lifting his feet into the air, and drifted along well behind Thasmudyan. He watched as the man went straight to the front door and knocked. He watched as the love of his life answered the door... and came outside.
Velentham drifted near enough to hear them, to hear the goddamned beggar stand there as though innocent, sharing with Sanria their plans. "He said that... he wanted revenge... on Gilean. He wanted me.. to carry it out," the beggar said.
"What did he say he wanted you to do?" Sanria returned.
"He wanted me to.. well, take Gilean to the Lifestream and 'accidentally' leave him there."
"And you didn't do it..." she said, and Velentham clenched his teeth as the beggar got into her good graces just as easily as butter melting on a hot griddle.
"...No."
They talked more, driving Velentham into a fever. He ran his hands through his hair, he drifted to and fro, she was so near. So close. If she would only come slightly away from that ward, he could just do what he wanted - take her away. He might not be able to flee the material plane with her, but he could take her to a place that they'd never look, he'd just have to get her away from the cottage. Away from the dopey bastard that stood talking to her and making himself more esteemed in her eyes. Velentham had enough.
His invisibility spell gone, his levitation dismissed, Velentham walked from the woods with a rage barely contained. "So here you are, beggar. Telling all our plans."
"So you are here, after all..." Thasmudyan said.
"Unlike you I never left. I don't cower from the things I want."
"And what do you have to say, beggar? I thought we were friends."
"I've decided that if I have to resort to deceit, trickery, and murder to get what I want, then perhaps that thing is not worth having."
"Truly a man after my own cousin. Perhaps that's why he has her and you don't?"
"If I have to deceive her to have her, then I don't really have her, do I?"
It was in that moment, all sanity Velentham had remaining drifted away. He had no thought of what his people might do to him. No thought of being banished from his own kind. The only thought Velentham had in his mind was the eradication of the beggar. Thasmudyan would die.
Velentham drifted near enough to hear them, to hear the goddamned beggar stand there as though innocent, sharing with Sanria their plans. "He said that... he wanted revenge... on Gilean. He wanted me.. to carry it out," the beggar said.
"What did he say he wanted you to do?" Sanria returned.
"He wanted me to.. well, take Gilean to the Lifestream and 'accidentally' leave him there."
"And you didn't do it..." she said, and Velentham clenched his teeth as the beggar got into her good graces just as easily as butter melting on a hot griddle.
"...No."
They talked more, driving Velentham into a fever. He ran his hands through his hair, he drifted to and fro, she was so near. So close. If she would only come slightly away from that ward, he could just do what he wanted - take her away. He might not be able to flee the material plane with her, but he could take her to a place that they'd never look, he'd just have to get her away from the cottage. Away from the dopey bastard that stood talking to her and making himself more esteemed in her eyes. Velentham had enough.
His invisibility spell gone, his levitation dismissed, Velentham walked from the woods with a rage barely contained. "So here you are, beggar. Telling all our plans."
"So you are here, after all..." Thasmudyan said.
"Unlike you I never left. I don't cower from the things I want."
"And what do you have to say, beggar? I thought we were friends."
"I've decided that if I have to resort to deceit, trickery, and murder to get what I want, then perhaps that thing is not worth having."
"Truly a man after my own cousin. Perhaps that's why he has her and you don't?"
"If I have to deceive her to have her, then I don't really have her, do I?"
It was in that moment, all sanity Velentham had remaining drifted away. He had no thought of what his people might do to him. No thought of being banished from his own kind. The only thought Velentham had in his mind was the eradication of the beggar. Thasmudyan would die.
Longing
Velentham stared at the cottage doggedly for days. He chain smoked his off-brand, Heifong cigarettes made of the cheapest tobacco. They couldn't harm his immortal lungs, it was a waste of money, but having the cigarette between his fingers like a friend was a comfort, albeit a small one. He watched his cousin exit the doors as cautious as a cat. Any comfort from his cigarette was lost at the sight of Gilean. Bile rose in Velentham's throat, reminding him of the bitter hatred that swirled about in his heart.
He walked back to the path, barely containing a growl. Where that goddamned beggar was, he didn't know. He was under the impression that he had thoroughly worked the mind of Thasmudyan to his aid - that the beggarly man would take Gilean to the lifestream, dispose of him and do Velentham's work, but it had been days and he'd seen no sign of the weakling healer.
The other side was the knowledge that the drow woman was lurking about in the woods. He knew she was there as certainly as he knew there was a pine to his left and right, but he said nothing more to her. She, too, had been a fixture in the trees, a figure desperate as he to get some sort of revenge. A fixture that he might have to finally turn back to... but if she hurt Sanria... if she did anything to endanger his woman...
Velentham growled and paced back to the cottage. He walked up to the door and reached out a hand. Before he could touch the wood a golden shimmer rippled, and Velentham let out a howling curse. Gilean had put a ward on the cottage... there was nothing he could do but wait, and Velentham hated waiting. He shot a ball of energy at the house with another howl of rage and drew in ragged breaths. Both of them - Gilean and Sanria - knew he was there, knew and had cast yet another ward to keep him at bay. A third howl erupted from Velentham's chest, causing a strand of golden blonde hair to slip from it's bind. His invisibility spell was gone, he would be visible to everyone, if only they'd look.
Velentham turned around and stared in Maya's direction, breathing heavily, his silver eyes aglow. If she wanted revenge, if she wanted to do what the beggar couldn't... who was he to say no?
His mind swirling, his madness growing like a black cancer, Velentham headed straight to the spot where the naked savage sat in the mistaken belief she was hidden...
He walked back to the path, barely containing a growl. Where that goddamned beggar was, he didn't know. He was under the impression that he had thoroughly worked the mind of Thasmudyan to his aid - that the beggarly man would take Gilean to the lifestream, dispose of him and do Velentham's work, but it had been days and he'd seen no sign of the weakling healer.
The other side was the knowledge that the drow woman was lurking about in the woods. He knew she was there as certainly as he knew there was a pine to his left and right, but he said nothing more to her. She, too, had been a fixture in the trees, a figure desperate as he to get some sort of revenge. A fixture that he might have to finally turn back to... but if she hurt Sanria... if she did anything to endanger his woman...
Velentham growled and paced back to the cottage. He walked up to the door and reached out a hand. Before he could touch the wood a golden shimmer rippled, and Velentham let out a howling curse. Gilean had put a ward on the cottage... there was nothing he could do but wait, and Velentham hated waiting. He shot a ball of energy at the house with another howl of rage and drew in ragged breaths. Both of them - Gilean and Sanria - knew he was there, knew and had cast yet another ward to keep him at bay. A third howl erupted from Velentham's chest, causing a strand of golden blonde hair to slip from it's bind. His invisibility spell was gone, he would be visible to everyone, if only they'd look.
Velentham turned around and stared in Maya's direction, breathing heavily, his silver eyes aglow. If she wanted revenge, if she wanted to do what the beggar couldn't... who was he to say no?
His mind swirling, his madness growing like a black cancer, Velentham headed straight to the spot where the naked savage sat in the mistaken belief she was hidden...
Devious and Desperate Beggars (1-2)
The woman had taken her leave and Velentham found himself staring up at the cottage as the hour grew late. The shadows beneath the trees were already rapidly growing darker and the fireflies came out en masse, reflecting in the grove what was on display high in the heavens. He looked down at the sound of footsteps - careless steps - and saw heading in his direction the same beggar with whom he had spoken not long ago. "Hello neighbor," he called, blowing out an exhale of smoke. He went through the sticks faster than any mortal he knew, and were he of their kind, they might have already killed him by now.
"Ah... hello again."
"Finding your days well?"
"Well.. things could be better. But, I suppose they could be worse, too."
"How much worse could this place possibly be?"
"The way things are going lately? I'm not sure I want to know."
Velentham looked to the wrists of the man, desperately keeping his wretching at bay. How could Sanria honestly have enjoyed the company of this weak and pathetic human being? "Still haven't found a way to get those off, eh?"
"Whoever made them knew what they were doing."
Velentham slid from the tree and levitated toward Thasmudyan. "What keeps you from just... chopping off your hands and having someone regrow them for you?"
"They are.. a trap for life energy. I'm a bit concerned that if I were to just chop off my hands, the bracelets would draw the life energy out of me."
"And you couldn't, say, find someone able to put a shield around them to stop them from sucking you dry?" Though he could have, Velentham would not allow himself to bother offering.
"If I knew someone who could, I might be able to try that."
"And if you die?"
"So what? I've been dead before."
"Have you now?"
"Maybe I'd die for good if I died this time, because of these bracelets. I doubt it, though. My essence would just reform in the Lifestream and I'd be sent back here again."
This mention of the lifestream pricked the ears of Velentham and the plan in his mind began to slither about, each tongue flick a spark of thought. He set the man at ease, listening to his pathetic snivelings of how Sanria had gone and married Gilean, left him alone, left him to father a child by the half- naked woman on his own. Just the thought of the beggar touching flesh to flesh with Sanria made him riled, but he kept the man talking while the thoughts flicked into life.
"What is it you *do* exactly?" Velentham asked, turning the self-depreciating thoughts on the man. "Amble around looking like a beggar for your own fun and games?"
"Apparently I... take care of a kid now."
"You're a nanny!" Velentham grinned. "That's nice. You could be with the woman you love and having a family. You just... choose not to."
"How could I, exactly? She doesn't want to be with me."
"You get him out of the picture without her knowing about you getting him out of the picture."
"Maybe I'd be tempted... if I actually had a way to do that."
"I mean... quite possibly you could... say... take Gilean with you into that lifestream and stick him there? What if he just... couldn't get out in time?"
"But.. that would kill him. I can't kill people."
"The circumstance would just be... unfavorable. And... just like you and I... he can't die. But he wouldn't come back with any recollections..."
Velentham's mind raced with the possibility and he worked hard to keep the smile off his face, to keep his innermost thoughts hidden. If he could set the two mortals after the same man, one of them would have to succeed. Either way, Gilean would die, and he would be sent back to Elysium. Once there, the tribunal would send him back to Toril for being a traitor, his punishment exacted once more - to be a mortal with no recollection of his past lives. No recollection meant he wouldn't be in the way, he wouldn't remember Sanria, and Velentham could finally claim what he'd waited so long to call his own.
"A victory for us both," Velentham said, having explained Gilean's Celestial nature. "And you wouldn't have to kill anyone. Just... lead him into circumstances he'd have to resolve."
"So all I'd have to do is... get out of these bracelets.. find Gilean.. and take him to the lifestream and leave him there. And do all of this without Sanria knowing."
"Whether or not she knows... I'd handle making sure she'd never remember."
"This plan of yours... it has many potential points of failure."
"Only if you are weak. You see, this plan of "ours" is simple in its beauty. You have the power to lead Gilean to the lifestream, I have the power to make Sanria forget."
"But what if he escapes?"
"You catch your fly with honey... he won't escape because, you see, you'll need to make him realize it's his idea. When he willingly goes... he is not a prisoner. And if it is his idea, well, even if Sanria knows, she couldn't blame you. Gilean took a risk."
"This all sounds... well, I don't know. Like it's wrong, somehow. But if it gets Sanria back to me..."
"That's all that matters. There is nothing in your way but yourself."
Like a rose in the summer heat, the idea blossomed on the face of the beggar, albeit skeptically at first. Velentham could barely contain the flood of joy that tingled through his body and under his skin as the beggar walked away. He summoned to his side a pen and parchment and hastily wrote to the naked savage, warning her not to interfere in the placement of the pawn they both required to play out both of their desires. He would not only reward the savage with her original form, he would wipe out all memory of Sanria from both of them. The half-naked one would have her lover to herself, the beggar would remember nothing, his cousin would be relieved of every memory of Velentham and Sanria, and he would at long last pull into his arms the love of his life. If there were failure points in the plan, Velentham could not see them through the vision of the entire success he was convinced would soon be his.
Velentham walked close to the cottage and lit a cigarette. There, in the window, was the woman he loved. He kept himself in the shadows, only putting out his cigarette when she looked right at him. Were it not for the shadows, he would have been revealed to her completely. She closed the curtains and Velentham's grin broadened. Their destiny was inevitable.
"Ah... hello again."
"Finding your days well?"
"Well.. things could be better. But, I suppose they could be worse, too."
"How much worse could this place possibly be?"
"The way things are going lately? I'm not sure I want to know."
Velentham looked to the wrists of the man, desperately keeping his wretching at bay. How could Sanria honestly have enjoyed the company of this weak and pathetic human being? "Still haven't found a way to get those off, eh?"
"Whoever made them knew what they were doing."
Velentham slid from the tree and levitated toward Thasmudyan. "What keeps you from just... chopping off your hands and having someone regrow them for you?"
"They are.. a trap for life energy. I'm a bit concerned that if I were to just chop off my hands, the bracelets would draw the life energy out of me."
"And you couldn't, say, find someone able to put a shield around them to stop them from sucking you dry?" Though he could have, Velentham would not allow himself to bother offering.
"If I knew someone who could, I might be able to try that."
"And if you die?"
"So what? I've been dead before."
"Have you now?"
"Maybe I'd die for good if I died this time, because of these bracelets. I doubt it, though. My essence would just reform in the Lifestream and I'd be sent back here again."
This mention of the lifestream pricked the ears of Velentham and the plan in his mind began to slither about, each tongue flick a spark of thought. He set the man at ease, listening to his pathetic snivelings of how Sanria had gone and married Gilean, left him alone, left him to father a child by the half- naked woman on his own. Just the thought of the beggar touching flesh to flesh with Sanria made him riled, but he kept the man talking while the thoughts flicked into life.
"What is it you *do* exactly?" Velentham asked, turning the self-depreciating thoughts on the man. "Amble around looking like a beggar for your own fun and games?"
"Apparently I... take care of a kid now."
"You're a nanny!" Velentham grinned. "That's nice. You could be with the woman you love and having a family. You just... choose not to."
"How could I, exactly? She doesn't want to be with me."
"You get him out of the picture without her knowing about you getting him out of the picture."
"Maybe I'd be tempted... if I actually had a way to do that."
"I mean... quite possibly you could... say... take Gilean with you into that lifestream and stick him there? What if he just... couldn't get out in time?"
"But.. that would kill him. I can't kill people."
"The circumstance would just be... unfavorable. And... just like you and I... he can't die. But he wouldn't come back with any recollections..."
Velentham's mind raced with the possibility and he worked hard to keep the smile off his face, to keep his innermost thoughts hidden. If he could set the two mortals after the same man, one of them would have to succeed. Either way, Gilean would die, and he would be sent back to Elysium. Once there, the tribunal would send him back to Toril for being a traitor, his punishment exacted once more - to be a mortal with no recollection of his past lives. No recollection meant he wouldn't be in the way, he wouldn't remember Sanria, and Velentham could finally claim what he'd waited so long to call his own.
"A victory for us both," Velentham said, having explained Gilean's Celestial nature. "And you wouldn't have to kill anyone. Just... lead him into circumstances he'd have to resolve."
"So all I'd have to do is... get out of these bracelets.. find Gilean.. and take him to the lifestream and leave him there. And do all of this without Sanria knowing."
"Whether or not she knows... I'd handle making sure she'd never remember."
"This plan of yours... it has many potential points of failure."
"Only if you are weak. You see, this plan of "ours" is simple in its beauty. You have the power to lead Gilean to the lifestream, I have the power to make Sanria forget."
"But what if he escapes?"
"You catch your fly with honey... he won't escape because, you see, you'll need to make him realize it's his idea. When he willingly goes... he is not a prisoner. And if it is his idea, well, even if Sanria knows, she couldn't blame you. Gilean took a risk."
"This all sounds... well, I don't know. Like it's wrong, somehow. But if it gets Sanria back to me..."
"That's all that matters. There is nothing in your way but yourself."
Like a rose in the summer heat, the idea blossomed on the face of the beggar, albeit skeptically at first. Velentham could barely contain the flood of joy that tingled through his body and under his skin as the beggar walked away. He summoned to his side a pen and parchment and hastily wrote to the naked savage, warning her not to interfere in the placement of the pawn they both required to play out both of their desires. He would not only reward the savage with her original form, he would wipe out all memory of Sanria from both of them. The half-naked one would have her lover to herself, the beggar would remember nothing, his cousin would be relieved of every memory of Velentham and Sanria, and he would at long last pull into his arms the love of his life. If there were failure points in the plan, Velentham could not see them through the vision of the entire success he was convinced would soon be his.
Velentham walked close to the cottage and lit a cigarette. There, in the window, was the woman he loved. He kept himself in the shadows, only putting out his cigarette when she looked right at him. Were it not for the shadows, he would have been revealed to her completely. She closed the curtains and Velentham's grin broadened. Their destiny was inevitable.
Discussions in Gossamer Cigarette Threads (1-2)
Velentham stared down at the woman in the undergrowth. There was nothing left to the imagination, and her body, while pleasing, did not bring about the typical reaction. Mortal shells rarely ever did - after all - he did not long after Sanria for her body. It was the mind in that shell he sought and as he peered down at the woman that pierced the space between the undergrowth and the front door of the cottage, he felt he might have a willing participant in prying his cousin away from Sanria.
"Interesting view, is it not?" he spoke from his perch.
"Interesting it is. The smoker I presume?"
"Mmm. Picked up the habit in Heifong. Nasty, so I'm told." The woman turned her gaze back onto him as she spoke. "A lot of things are nasty. Better the devil you know." He couldn't disagree.
Velentham drifted down from the branches, his eyes on the cottage. "So tell me what brings you to spy on this little house."
"Spying is such a harsh word... I prefer observing."
"Semantics, dear lady. One in the same and who cares if it's harsh. Own what we are is what I say. Cigarette?"
They spoke and as the woman spoke, Velentham could already sense the direction she was heading. No different than any of the other chattel he dealt with on a daily basis in Heifong. They all wanted something, all were willing to kill to get it, all playing at a game which eventually they would lose. The difference with this one, was she was holding tightly to a secret beneath her skin. One his Celestial eyes could see without effort.
The mention of Thasmudyan seemed to rile her and Velentham gave no hint that the beggarly man disgusted him as well. Sniffing about his, Velentham's territory, like a dog. But the true shock came, not in the fact that this half naked woman was upset that the father of her child was lusting after his Sanria, but that she was looking for him. It was beyond delicious, this turn in events.
"I will reclaim my life," she said.
"And what life do you dispossess that drives you to a woman you hate and a man who I hate?"
"The one I was born with, and stripped of."
"Dark skinned one."
"You can see it!"
"It is rather simple to see if one only bothers to look," he smirked. "So you come here looking for that man's family to... what... return you to that darkness that roils within your soul asking to be set lose on your skin?"
"Pretty much, Yes."
"What do you suppose that is worth to you?"
"Everything."
"I see. I'll tell you what, dark one. I won't slay you. In fact, I'll ask you to do something quite simple. You get my cousin away from Sanria. You let me get within distance of her to take her to my home, and I'll grant your deepest desire."
"If I may be so bold to add one more condition to that..." With a nod from Velentham's head, she continued. "When she goes to your home... She must never return."
"My dear one - if I get her into my home, she'll remember none but me."
"Consider it a deal."
The conditions were struck... she could do what she wished so long as his Sanria was untouched and unharmed. Velentham vanished from view, but not from his spot. He smirked in silence as the woman spat out the words, "Damned arrogant bastard."
Velentham quietly levitated himself over the woman and closer to the cottage. He drifted to the back and felt his heart stop as he watched Sanria sitting by the edge of the stream, reading to the bastard boy. His breath held and his eyes closed. He encased himself in a bubble of magic and drifted closer. Had he wanted, he could have reached out, he could have taken her in his arms.
He leaned forward, breaking his own barrier, to take in a deep inhale of her hair. The slight scent of rose amongst the forest... he had to quickly recoil as Sanria turned toward him with a look of confusion. Quickly, he drifted back to the front of the cottage, his jaw set. He would have the dirty work done for him. He would get rid of Gilean without lifting his hand - his people could not blame him - he would then have Sanria and take her, as soon as he figured out how, back to the demiplane his father created for him so long ago.
He settled himself not very far from the half-naked woman and let his mind drift. His future, his eternity, would be spent back in his rightful home with his rightful demeanor. Once Sanria had finally settled into her new mindset, she then could ask for ascension. He had no doubt they would consider her for Celestial-hood, and then they'd be together until the end of time... and time, he was certain, would never end.
"Interesting view, is it not?" he spoke from his perch.
"Interesting it is. The smoker I presume?"
"Mmm. Picked up the habit in Heifong. Nasty, so I'm told." The woman turned her gaze back onto him as she spoke. "A lot of things are nasty. Better the devil you know." He couldn't disagree.
Velentham drifted down from the branches, his eyes on the cottage. "So tell me what brings you to spy on this little house."
"Spying is such a harsh word... I prefer observing."
"Semantics, dear lady. One in the same and who cares if it's harsh. Own what we are is what I say. Cigarette?"
They spoke and as the woman spoke, Velentham could already sense the direction she was heading. No different than any of the other chattel he dealt with on a daily basis in Heifong. They all wanted something, all were willing to kill to get it, all playing at a game which eventually they would lose. The difference with this one, was she was holding tightly to a secret beneath her skin. One his Celestial eyes could see without effort.
The mention of Thasmudyan seemed to rile her and Velentham gave no hint that the beggarly man disgusted him as well. Sniffing about his, Velentham's territory, like a dog. But the true shock came, not in the fact that this half naked woman was upset that the father of her child was lusting after his Sanria, but that she was looking for him. It was beyond delicious, this turn in events.
"I will reclaim my life," she said.
"And what life do you dispossess that drives you to a woman you hate and a man who I hate?"
"The one I was born with, and stripped of."
"Dark skinned one."
"You can see it!"
"It is rather simple to see if one only bothers to look," he smirked. "So you come here looking for that man's family to... what... return you to that darkness that roils within your soul asking to be set lose on your skin?"
"Pretty much, Yes."
"What do you suppose that is worth to you?"
"Everything."
"I see. I'll tell you what, dark one. I won't slay you. In fact, I'll ask you to do something quite simple. You get my cousin away from Sanria. You let me get within distance of her to take her to my home, and I'll grant your deepest desire."
"If I may be so bold to add one more condition to that..." With a nod from Velentham's head, she continued. "When she goes to your home... She must never return."
"My dear one - if I get her into my home, she'll remember none but me."
"Consider it a deal."
The conditions were struck... she could do what she wished so long as his Sanria was untouched and unharmed. Velentham vanished from view, but not from his spot. He smirked in silence as the woman spat out the words, "Damned arrogant bastard."
Velentham quietly levitated himself over the woman and closer to the cottage. He drifted to the back and felt his heart stop as he watched Sanria sitting by the edge of the stream, reading to the bastard boy. His breath held and his eyes closed. He encased himself in a bubble of magic and drifted closer. Had he wanted, he could have reached out, he could have taken her in his arms.
He leaned forward, breaking his own barrier, to take in a deep inhale of her hair. The slight scent of rose amongst the forest... he had to quickly recoil as Sanria turned toward him with a look of confusion. Quickly, he drifted back to the front of the cottage, his jaw set. He would have the dirty work done for him. He would get rid of Gilean without lifting his hand - his people could not blame him - he would then have Sanria and take her, as soon as he figured out how, back to the demiplane his father created for him so long ago.
He settled himself not very far from the half-naked woman and let his mind drift. His future, his eternity, would be spent back in his rightful home with his rightful demeanor. Once Sanria had finally settled into her new mindset, she then could ask for ascension. He had no doubt they would consider her for Celestial-hood, and then they'd be together until the end of time... and time, he was certain, would never end.
Catalyst
"And you would be Ror, the Tripower member I've been hearing about," said Vorcet Tophen and he shook Ror's hand firmly. "Only good things I hope?" Vorcet laughed. "Of course." And then they talked, about Westbridge. A school and a theatre were at the forefront of the discussion. Where to build them in Westbridge? Which steps were necessary to take? In Vorcet, Ror had found a likewise mind, a fellow bookworm. As the discussion went on, the topic of ruling came up. The city needed a ruling body, but the question was which. Vorcet explained that his preferred choice would be a council with one or two members of each group that may have an interest in trade and the general structure of law within the city of Westbridge. Outsiders, clans. Vorcet explained how a council of the clans would provide a system of checks and balances. Not one group could grab more power without the rest coming down on them. But Ror was sceptic. Although, he liked the idea of a council, he suspected the clans also brought with them greater interests than the city of Westbridge alone. Interests that would sooner or later tear the city apart in strife, with war quickly following. Perhaps it was cynical, but a good politician would have forged an alliance within a week, and by the second week would have minimalized opposition within such a council. Not even the Keepers could prevent politics to unfold in such a way. And so a devious plan formed in Ror's brain. "I have an idea..." said Ror, and he then explained it to Vorcet.
Ror proposed a council chosen by the people of Westbridge. Since the current people were untrained and unfit to rule, they would then lease administrative rights for 80 years to the Keepers. It was the only neutral party in the conflict that had the respect of all participants. "Park your island above the city park," said Ror, "Like an umbrella shielding the city. While the city is governed, we build a theatre for culture and a school for education. And after four generations under the protective umbrella, Westbridge would be strong enough to defend and fend for itself." Ror could see how the school had to be divided in subsection. Primary and secondary school, specialized education for those not joining a guild and interested in trading, law or politics. And finally an university. Economical growth would sort itself out, or only needed to be sorted out later in time.
But alas, Vorcet pointed out that the island was not under his command. Things were a little more complex in that regard, but he would put Ror's idea forth to those that guided the Keepers. At least, that's how Ror understood it. It was the start of a gradual topic change. First on structure of the Keepers of Balance and its new leader, and then the topic of Thasmudyan. After all that talking, it seemed Ror had found the wizard he needed, who seemed genuinely interested and most important of all, capable and free of charge. He wondered if Alsin would believe him. It almost sounded too good to be true! As time and drinks passed the moment of departure came and as Ror walked home, he realized he had forgotten to ask something.
Three days later, Ror knocked on the door of Traggik Endings, and waited for the door to open. Ror smiled when the door opened and said, "Fancy an adventure?"
Ror proposed a council chosen by the people of Westbridge. Since the current people were untrained and unfit to rule, they would then lease administrative rights for 80 years to the Keepers. It was the only neutral party in the conflict that had the respect of all participants. "Park your island above the city park," said Ror, "Like an umbrella shielding the city. While the city is governed, we build a theatre for culture and a school for education. And after four generations under the protective umbrella, Westbridge would be strong enough to defend and fend for itself." Ror could see how the school had to be divided in subsection. Primary and secondary school, specialized education for those not joining a guild and interested in trading, law or politics. And finally an university. Economical growth would sort itself out, or only needed to be sorted out later in time.
But alas, Vorcet pointed out that the island was not under his command. Things were a little more complex in that regard, but he would put Ror's idea forth to those that guided the Keepers. At least, that's how Ror understood it. It was the start of a gradual topic change. First on structure of the Keepers of Balance and its new leader, and then the topic of Thasmudyan. After all that talking, it seemed Ror had found the wizard he needed, who seemed genuinely interested and most important of all, capable and free of charge. He wondered if Alsin would believe him. It almost sounded too good to be true! As time and drinks passed the moment of departure came and as Ror walked home, he realized he had forgotten to ask something.
Three days later, Ror knocked on the door of Traggik Endings, and waited for the door to open. Ror smiled when the door opened and said, "Fancy an adventure?"
Deluded Fantasies
Maya entered into the base of the woods nearby the waterfall and cocked her head a moment, sniffing the tendrils of smoke on the air before looking around her, crouched down and waiting for trouble. The birds sang their song and the bubbling water cascading over the rocks at the base of the fall were the only sounds she could hear, however someone had been here, that was cigarette smoke.
Not wanting to draw attention to herself now that she feared she wasn't alone, nestled back into the shrubbery, her glaring eyes rested on the small home before her, Sanria's home. She had come to see if Thasmudyan had kept his word, to ensure his brat hadn't stepped an inch near this glade. The quaint little picture of the happy little family before her set her teeth on edge.
There was so much blood, the children looking on in horror, as Sanria began to bleed upon her clothes, but Maya Wanted her to suffer more yet, She allowed Sanria's garments to slide, slippery and wet from her clenched fingers and hit the floor with a thud, in moments however Maya was atop her. "How long I've wanted this".
Sanria's laughter echoed across the glade from the home before Maya and ended her short lived fantasies. Snarling under her breath, she drowned out all her deep sort mental facade, and went back to watching the harlotte's home.
Not wanting to draw attention to herself now that she feared she wasn't alone, nestled back into the shrubbery, her glaring eyes rested on the small home before her, Sanria's home. She had come to see if Thasmudyan had kept his word, to ensure his brat hadn't stepped an inch near this glade. The quaint little picture of the happy little family before her set her teeth on edge.
There was so much blood, the children looking on in horror, as Sanria began to bleed upon her clothes, but Maya Wanted her to suffer more yet, She allowed Sanria's garments to slide, slippery and wet from her clenched fingers and hit the floor with a thud, in moments however Maya was atop her. "How long I've wanted this".
Sanria's laughter echoed across the glade from the home before Maya and ended her short lived fantasies. Snarling under her breath, she drowned out all her deep sort mental facade, and went back to watching the harlotte's home.
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