Sanria and Throm chatted between checking the door for any sign of guards. It appeared that no one had heard the deafening blast of the door hitting the ground, and it could have been that prisoners weren't often kept for long in the cells that no guards were - well - guarding.
Throm made mention of a secret exit, and with a bit of spell-weaving, Sanria found it. The went through the tunnel a considerable distance, the air within growing colder and colder as they moved, until at last, they were out in the open. Outside of the walls of the tower was still unsafe. Minotaur Guards waited with axes, and only through Throm's ability to conjure up a demon (which truly did scare Sanria - knowing he had almost unleashed it upon her), were they able to make a run for it.
The snow and wind chilled Sanria, but she kept up her pace behind Throm. He had to be slowing down for her, she wasn't exactly in the best of shape by any standard. At last, they slid down the cliff to the Bastion, and the empty spot where the Weave was parked. Dread enveloped Sanria. "No... no no no... where's the ship? They're gone, they're gone!" Panic threatened to overtake her and it took Throm's voice to pull her back from its dangerous grasp.
"It's ok, we'll find them."
"I'm willing to be they're off to find us."
"We'll find them," he reassured. "I will," he then corrected, "why don't you return to better climates. I can repair the teleport engine at least and that would get you back south."
"Do you think for a moment Throm uth Bannon, that after all that, I'm going to leave you up here again without knowing you are completely and one hundred percent safe?"
The two talked a bit more, with Sanria gradually growing irritated as she grew to understand what he was asking of her... to wait as he finished his quest. "I'm not asking you to stop," Sanria said. "I'm only requesting that you understand... that if you wish me to be by your side... then I should be by your side. I'll do anything for you..."
"And I for you...this is why I am going to recover the cells from the hands of the Old Foe and then I am yours one hundred and ten percent."
The couple then fell to arguing amidst the snow. Sanria could not understand why he would say such things. Had she not proven that she could manage (almost) going on journeys? She'd saved him! 'Somewhat,' she reminded herself. So it came as a shock when Throm suddenly followed her suggestion, "Come with me... But gods help the person or creature who lays an ill hand upon you. Because if you don't send them to the abyss I shall."
Elation overwhelmed her as she gripped Throm in her arms. For the first time, she felt part of something and someone's life - she knew in her heart, she'd go to the ends of the world for him, and with the air cleared between them, she called to Skive through telepathy. It was amazing that the gnome even heard her call, but the ship arrived and in a flash, she and Throm were in Torregiano. They'd sleep and in the morning... who knew.
In The Fix
Sanria had been slammed down onto the stones with such a force the wind was knocked from her. She swore a rib was broken as she lay there, writhing in pain. "What we do with her?" a deep baritone voice growled out.
"Breakfast?" answered another.
"Breakfast, yes," the baritone laughed.
"What the hell?" A red-caped man strode into the room, his cape billowing behind him.
For Sanria, the only thing definitive was the highly polished red boots that stepped into her field of vision. "Who the hell is this?"
"Trespasser," answered one of the minotaur guards.
"Well how the hell did she get in here? Weren't you doing your job?"
A deep grumble went through the guards and amazingly enough, they remained silent. The red boot then suddenly found contact with Sanria's side in the form of a swift kick.
"What the hell are you doing in here?"
"Oh please... don't... kick me again..." Sanria said gulping for air.
The red caped man knelt down near her, eyeing her carefully. He pulled the communication crystal from beneath her shoulder and tucked it into the pouch at his waist. He was a young man, his chin covered in stubble, his eyebrows thick and set over his eyes making him look permanently irritated. Blonde hair was to his jaw line and he let go of a snort.
"You have no idea all the things we could do to you. State your business here."
"I... came..."
"Faster!" the man snarled.
"I have... no business... I... miscalculated my spell..."
"Well, your miscalculations will find you fetching a fair price on the slave market." The man reached down, taking a fist full of Sanria's hair to lift her head from the stones.
"Yes. Lord Sephiroth always appreciates funding." He let Sanria's head fall to the stones as he stood. "Get her to the dungeon."
"What about breakfast? Let us eat her," stated the guards.
"Typical, always the stomachs. Take her to the cells and she'll be going out with the rest of the trash tomorrow."
It felt as though streams of white hot electricity were bouncing around inside of her body as the guards lifted her without a hint of gentility and drug her, literally, to the cell. They tossed her onto the hard bed that folded from the wall on chains and locked the door behind them. It was going to be a hard night.
Sanria woke without a clue as to the time. It was still dark and lit only by the torches that flickered in from the hallway. The cell was cold, cramped, dank and left Sanria feeling quite worried about her fate. 'Wonderful move,' she thought to herself. 'Couldn't have at least *checked* for the crystal?' She let out a sigh and then turned her focus to healing herself. She was no priest, but she had at least managed to calm the constant pain when the door crashed in. Before her was the last face she thought she'd ever see again. Throm had come... and he looked wild.
"Breakfast?" answered another.
"Breakfast, yes," the baritone laughed.
"What the hell?" A red-caped man strode into the room, his cape billowing behind him.
For Sanria, the only thing definitive was the highly polished red boots that stepped into her field of vision. "Who the hell is this?"
"Trespasser," answered one of the minotaur guards.
"Well how the hell did she get in here? Weren't you doing your job?"
A deep grumble went through the guards and amazingly enough, they remained silent. The red boot then suddenly found contact with Sanria's side in the form of a swift kick.
"What the hell are you doing in here?"
"Oh please... don't... kick me again..." Sanria said gulping for air.
The red caped man knelt down near her, eyeing her carefully. He pulled the communication crystal from beneath her shoulder and tucked it into the pouch at his waist. He was a young man, his chin covered in stubble, his eyebrows thick and set over his eyes making him look permanently irritated. Blonde hair was to his jaw line and he let go of a snort.
"You have no idea all the things we could do to you. State your business here."
"I... came..."
"Faster!" the man snarled.
"I have... no business... I... miscalculated my spell..."
"Well, your miscalculations will find you fetching a fair price on the slave market." The man reached down, taking a fist full of Sanria's hair to lift her head from the stones.
"Yes. Lord Sephiroth always appreciates funding." He let Sanria's head fall to the stones as he stood. "Get her to the dungeon."
"What about breakfast? Let us eat her," stated the guards.
"Typical, always the stomachs. Take her to the cells and she'll be going out with the rest of the trash tomorrow."
It felt as though streams of white hot electricity were bouncing around inside of her body as the guards lifted her without a hint of gentility and drug her, literally, to the cell. They tossed her onto the hard bed that folded from the wall on chains and locked the door behind them. It was going to be a hard night.
Sanria woke without a clue as to the time. It was still dark and lit only by the torches that flickered in from the hallway. The cell was cold, cramped, dank and left Sanria feeling quite worried about her fate. 'Wonderful move,' she thought to herself. 'Couldn't have at least *checked* for the crystal?' She let out a sigh and then turned her focus to healing herself. She was no priest, but she had at least managed to calm the constant pain when the door crashed in. Before her was the last face she thought she'd ever see again. Throm had come... and he looked wild.
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.
Incomplete Resolutions
Hues of crimson billowed out into the crystal clear water. Eventually the tendrils dispersed to form a rosy pink solution within the basin. It was from this basin that Throm reached down hand cupped, and splashed his face with the cool liquid upon his face. Drying his face on his cloak, he once again returned to the task of washing the blood from his sword. Casting a glance back at the crumpled figure clad in a black cloak, he noted that this battle was far easier than the last he had experienced with the Old Foe. This one was far weaker...curious he would be left to stand guard on the cells taken from uth Bannon Manor. Finishing his task, he shook the water from his blade, replacing it within it's holster. Throm had made a myriad of mental notes about the lab in which he now stood, though most of what he saw he wouldn't have felt sorry to have stricken from his memory completely. The refined Lifestream of black nature had indeed raised his curiosity, though he was not here to study the Old Foe's experiments.
Walking slowly to the long table sitting central of the room, he snatched a large canister filled with a strange liquid from it's top. Concealing the canister within his cloak Throm extended his arm, palm up. Muttering a series of incantations, bright flames burst from his palms, enveloping the table in a raging inferno. Turning, he walked from the lab musing on while it had not been easy to retrieve the cells, it had been far easier than he had anticipated. Now...he had only to find the rest of them. Throm could still smell the burning of the lab stinging his nostrils when the voices began to ring through his head.
Walking slowly to the long table sitting central of the room, he snatched a large canister filled with a strange liquid from it's top. Concealing the canister within his cloak Throm extended his arm, palm up. Muttering a series of incantations, bright flames burst from his palms, enveloping the table in a raging inferno. Turning, he walked from the lab musing on while it had not been easy to retrieve the cells, it had been far easier than he had anticipated. Now...he had only to find the rest of them. Throm could still smell the burning of the lab stinging his nostrils when the voices began to ring through his head.
Shadow Among the Shadows
Hellstrom watched and listened from the shadows as Emalia gathered her champions for the trip into the mountains to find the temple. Hellstrom knew her intentions, but it no longer mattered. Hellstrom had been following ensuring Emalia's safety from a distance for the past weeks, and he knew more than he cared to. The only thing left was to ensure that Emalia made it to her destination safely. He briefly considered revealing himself to the group when they mentioned his name, but thought better of it. He knew how much turmoil his presence would bring with her pregnancy. Hellstrom sat back into the shadows some more and watched, waiting for them to depart.
Emptiness
Emalia pulled herself together enough to rise from her bed. Though it felt like hours, it had in truth been only minutes since Jayden's departure, and she rose, wiping at her eyes. Her jaw immediately set as she stormed down the stairs, grabbed her pack, and headed out of her door.
As she passed the Jihad Compound gates, the guards this time did not look at her curiously. In fact, it appeared that storming through the gates must have made her look more official, or perhaps, just less lost. She went straight to Nephesh's room, her fists curled and teeth grinding as she moved. "We need to go... now."
There was barely time to spare in Emalia's mind. She would get Westbridge behind her promptly and get things done and the temple found. She walked quickly, never looking back to be certain of Nephesh's following her, and within minutes, they were at the bridge.
Colin was sitting beside the water when Emalia and Nephesh arrived. If her face were to have worn a color, it would have been black, she appeared so determined. "We need to go."
"What's wrong?"
"We just need to go."
"Well, alright... where are we going?"
"North. We're going to find that damnable temple and prove G... Jayden wrong.He thinks he knows me... thinks I'm evil... well.."
Colin's hand rested on Emalia's arm, and she could barely keep herself from bursting into a renewed gale of tears. She scrunched her face and set her jaw even more. "Hey... Hey, what's going on?" Colin's voice asked.
Emalia glanced over at Nephesh's note, asking why Jayden would think her evil, before shaking her head, and answering them both with, "We go now, and he believes I'm evil because I choose to listen to Grobnak and follow the Apprentice."
It seemed to pass well enough. The less she had to explain to either of them, the better grasp she would have on her broken heartedness. 'Where is the woodsman?' Nephesh asked. Hellstrom. Emalia growled inwardly.
"I don't know. Chances are, he isn't going to want to come anyhow."
Colin examined the map Emalia had handed him earlier and looked up. "Well, it looks a good distance away. It would be good not to rush off. We can take some time to properly prepare this time."
She knew he was right. Both of them were, as Nephesh joined in the protest of taking flight. Her face was deep crimson, her fists were clenched. She was worn but she wouldn't dare show it... until Colin put his hands on her shoulders. At the touch of warm hands, her misshapen wall around her soul dropped to the ground and she sobbed.
The party had agreed to set of tomorrow, to at the very least allow for supplies, when the energy of magic brought Emalia to attention. She looked about, "Who is that?" and stood. A man walked from the shadows beneath the trees: silver hair and a trench coat with no sleeves. This was a stranger, and Emalia was suddenly on guard.
"Looks like I found you at last," he spoke.
"You know this man?" Colin asked Nephesh.
"He is one of the faithful," Nephesh wrote, "And a former Guardian."
"It seems like an introduction is not needed, then," the man said.
"Why are you here?" Emalia asked. Deep within, her mistrust set her to using her lifeforce. It began to slip from her and into the air in the form of calm, and having been so drained only a couple days before, then becoming again emotionally drained after he meeting with Jayden, this new development was one she could not handle. Her power was weak and the more worried and irritated and distrustful she became, the more of it leaked out and away from her.
"I was sent here by the Apostle of Ragnarok, Grobnak himself, he seemed to think you would be in need of my assistance."
This broke what little remained of Emalia's trust. This sealed her determination. She was no longer going on this journey for the Jihad - she vowed inside that right then, that tie was broken. She was no longer going to refrain from going because of the Guardians - she vowed after Jayden left her door that she was no longer of them. The only reason she would keep this journey was to bring down the RoK and bring back The Apprentice. Only two things did she now believe in. Colin, and The Apprentice. She would do it for them, and then - the rest of the populace.
Tension rose as the party discussed whether to bring the new member. Emalia had no trust, her guard was up as much as it could be, and she was weakening much faster than times before. Higher and higher spiraled her alert until her body could not take it. Her legs first gave out and she gripped Colin's arm for the second inevitability... Emalia passed out cold.
As she passed the Jihad Compound gates, the guards this time did not look at her curiously. In fact, it appeared that storming through the gates must have made her look more official, or perhaps, just less lost. She went straight to Nephesh's room, her fists curled and teeth grinding as she moved. "We need to go... now."
There was barely time to spare in Emalia's mind. She would get Westbridge behind her promptly and get things done and the temple found. She walked quickly, never looking back to be certain of Nephesh's following her, and within minutes, they were at the bridge.
Colin was sitting beside the water when Emalia and Nephesh arrived. If her face were to have worn a color, it would have been black, she appeared so determined. "We need to go."
"What's wrong?"
"We just need to go."
"Well, alright... where are we going?"
"North. We're going to find that damnable temple and prove G... Jayden wrong.He thinks he knows me... thinks I'm evil... well.."
Colin's hand rested on Emalia's arm, and she could barely keep herself from bursting into a renewed gale of tears. She scrunched her face and set her jaw even more. "Hey... Hey, what's going on?" Colin's voice asked.
Emalia glanced over at Nephesh's note, asking why Jayden would think her evil, before shaking her head, and answering them both with, "We go now, and he believes I'm evil because I choose to listen to Grobnak and follow the Apprentice."
It seemed to pass well enough. The less she had to explain to either of them, the better grasp she would have on her broken heartedness. 'Where is the woodsman?' Nephesh asked. Hellstrom. Emalia growled inwardly.
"I don't know. Chances are, he isn't going to want to come anyhow."
Colin examined the map Emalia had handed him earlier and looked up. "Well, it looks a good distance away. It would be good not to rush off. We can take some time to properly prepare this time."
She knew he was right. Both of them were, as Nephesh joined in the protest of taking flight. Her face was deep crimson, her fists were clenched. She was worn but she wouldn't dare show it... until Colin put his hands on her shoulders. At the touch of warm hands, her misshapen wall around her soul dropped to the ground and she sobbed.
The party had agreed to set of tomorrow, to at the very least allow for supplies, when the energy of magic brought Emalia to attention. She looked about, "Who is that?" and stood. A man walked from the shadows beneath the trees: silver hair and a trench coat with no sleeves. This was a stranger, and Emalia was suddenly on guard.
"Looks like I found you at last," he spoke.
"You know this man?" Colin asked Nephesh.
"He is one of the faithful," Nephesh wrote, "And a former Guardian."
"It seems like an introduction is not needed, then," the man said.
"Why are you here?" Emalia asked. Deep within, her mistrust set her to using her lifeforce. It began to slip from her and into the air in the form of calm, and having been so drained only a couple days before, then becoming again emotionally drained after he meeting with Jayden, this new development was one she could not handle. Her power was weak and the more worried and irritated and distrustful she became, the more of it leaked out and away from her.
"I was sent here by the Apostle of Ragnarok, Grobnak himself, he seemed to think you would be in need of my assistance."
This broke what little remained of Emalia's trust. This sealed her determination. She was no longer going on this journey for the Jihad - she vowed inside that right then, that tie was broken. She was no longer going to refrain from going because of the Guardians - she vowed after Jayden left her door that she was no longer of them. The only reason she would keep this journey was to bring down the RoK and bring back The Apprentice. Only two things did she now believe in. Colin, and The Apprentice. She would do it for them, and then - the rest of the populace.
Tension rose as the party discussed whether to bring the new member. Emalia had no trust, her guard was up as much as it could be, and she was weakening much faster than times before. Higher and higher spiraled her alert until her body could not take it. Her legs first gave out and she gripped Colin's arm for the second inevitability... Emalia passed out cold.
Wrong Turn at Family
Emalia now laid in her familiar bedroom, pouring her soul in the form of tears and screams into the depths of her pillow. She had left Colin dozing on the banks of the stream, promising him she would return in short order, and went to the Guardian Clan Hall to seek out Jayden. Her "grandfather" sat by the healing waters, reading, and appeared more than a little concerned when she requested to speak with him privately.
The arrived through a portal into her living room and she bade him to make himself comfortable. The discussion started well. Emalia was nearly delighted to hear that Jayden seemed not to know where the Temple was. "It turns out... that it is the place where it will be determined whether the RoK falls."
"What was your perception of the Temple?" Jayden asked.
"Just a place... nothing more."
"And this is what troubles you now?"
Emalia shook her head. "If I go, I will have lead everyone to it... If I go, everyone will know where it is... and the only step left then, is to find the sword to bring down the Rok, or destroy it... Grandfather... I would start a war."
"Then why would you wish to pursue this?"
"Because I am torn."
"Torn to what child?" Jayden asked.
"On one hand, I believe that bringing down the RoK is the answer... I... think anyway. And Grobnak tells me it is my destiny."
"This Grobnak person... He troubles me, by telling you such false things.."
Slowly the grip of distrust wrapped it's fingers around Emalia's heart. As Jayden spoke, it clenched its vice tighter. "I am a follower of all that is good and kind...And you are walking down the wrong path child..."
"I don't understand... how... How is it wrong?"
"I try to see past this...but it gets hard with every passing sun.. You are following the dark, when you MUST follow the light. Child... You must not let this happen"
"But... Grandfather, The Apprentice must be brought back... it will stop the RoK for eternity!" Emalia said with exasperation.
"That is a lie! The Apprentice is a joke child..."
Emalia's soul was crushed. She shook her head slowly, "No. He is real and if we don't stop the RoK it will happen again and again..."
"Child I warn you... Follow not in this path, it will lead to you demise, and countless lives will be taken."
Emalia listened as Jayden told more of his tale, but already, her mind was being clouded by the resistance. She believed this with her heart, and to hear Jayden - the one she called Grandfather, the one who had vouched for her so many times - demeaning her beliefs closed her even further. " I don't understand how stopping the RoK for eternity could possibly be evil..."
"Because everything about this tale, everything that has happened points to this evil... This person you think will restore balance will not!"
"He is a God... how could he not restore balance?"
"A God? How dare you speak of Gods as such lowly life forms such as this thing that should restore balance. You are lost child... Find your way...I suggest this...or you will find yourself in a dark corner praying for death..."
Jayden moved to leave and Emalia stood, a sob escaping her. How could this be the result. She looked to Jayden's back in disbelief. "I can't help the unwilling..." he said.
"Unwilling!?" Emalia nearly shouted. The swiftness that Jayden used to turn around shocked Emalia. "You raise your voice at me!?"
"Yes! Because you are wrong!" Emalia shouted over Jayden's shocked gasp. “You're wrong about me. You're wrong... wrong!"
"Goodday child..."
"Mark my words! I'll save the world! AND YOU'LL THANK ME!"
The snap of Jayden's cane accompanied his exit from her home, and Emalia fled up her stairs. So she ended up upon the pillows, sobbing deeply. Though now, her mind was made up. She'd show Jayden that she knew what to do. She would find the temple, and she'd help end the repetitive nature of the RoK. She'd restore balance, like The Apprentice intended from the start. The world depended upon her now... she wouldn't let it down.
The arrived through a portal into her living room and she bade him to make himself comfortable. The discussion started well. Emalia was nearly delighted to hear that Jayden seemed not to know where the Temple was. "It turns out... that it is the place where it will be determined whether the RoK falls."
"What was your perception of the Temple?" Jayden asked.
"Just a place... nothing more."
"And this is what troubles you now?"
Emalia shook her head. "If I go, I will have lead everyone to it... If I go, everyone will know where it is... and the only step left then, is to find the sword to bring down the Rok, or destroy it... Grandfather... I would start a war."
"Then why would you wish to pursue this?"
"Because I am torn."
"Torn to what child?" Jayden asked.
"On one hand, I believe that bringing down the RoK is the answer... I... think anyway. And Grobnak tells me it is my destiny."
"This Grobnak person... He troubles me, by telling you such false things.."
Slowly the grip of distrust wrapped it's fingers around Emalia's heart. As Jayden spoke, it clenched its vice tighter. "I am a follower of all that is good and kind...And you are walking down the wrong path child..."
"I don't understand... how... How is it wrong?"
"I try to see past this...but it gets hard with every passing sun.. You are following the dark, when you MUST follow the light. Child... You must not let this happen"
"But... Grandfather, The Apprentice must be brought back... it will stop the RoK for eternity!" Emalia said with exasperation.
"That is a lie! The Apprentice is a joke child..."
Emalia's soul was crushed. She shook her head slowly, "No. He is real and if we don't stop the RoK it will happen again and again..."
"Child I warn you... Follow not in this path, it will lead to you demise, and countless lives will be taken."
Emalia listened as Jayden told more of his tale, but already, her mind was being clouded by the resistance. She believed this with her heart, and to hear Jayden - the one she called Grandfather, the one who had vouched for her so many times - demeaning her beliefs closed her even further. " I don't understand how stopping the RoK for eternity could possibly be evil..."
"Because everything about this tale, everything that has happened points to this evil... This person you think will restore balance will not!"
"He is a God... how could he not restore balance?"
"A God? How dare you speak of Gods as such lowly life forms such as this thing that should restore balance. You are lost child... Find your way...I suggest this...or you will find yourself in a dark corner praying for death..."
Jayden moved to leave and Emalia stood, a sob escaping her. How could this be the result. She looked to Jayden's back in disbelief. "I can't help the unwilling..." he said.
"Unwilling!?" Emalia nearly shouted. The swiftness that Jayden used to turn around shocked Emalia. "You raise your voice at me!?"
"Yes! Because you are wrong!" Emalia shouted over Jayden's shocked gasp. “You're wrong about me. You're wrong... wrong!"
"Goodday child..."
"Mark my words! I'll save the world! AND YOU'LL THANK ME!"
The snap of Jayden's cane accompanied his exit from her home, and Emalia fled up her stairs. So she ended up upon the pillows, sobbing deeply. Though now, her mind was made up. She'd show Jayden that she knew what to do. She would find the temple, and she'd help end the repetitive nature of the RoK. She'd restore balance, like The Apprentice intended from the start. The world depended upon her now... she wouldn't let it down.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)