The sensation of light broke Emalia's sleep, and her eyes fluttered open to the breaking of the dawn. Again, she would neglect sending a prayer to the Morning Lord, though such duties were far from her mind. She rolled over, nudging Colin awake. The idea of getting underway sent jolts of electricity through her, and she practically leapt from the bed. "You sure you don't want just a couple more hours to sleep?" Colin asked, returning to the sanctity of the quilts.
"I'm positive. As soon as I gather some clothes, I'm leaving. As are you, I assume. Once upon a time you didn't even sleep."
"I know, I almost forgot what I was missing."
Emalia paused in her packing. "You know... I've never stopped to ask you about that. Who were you before... well, before you died."
"Just me," Colin shrugged.
"You didn't have a name? Things you liked to do?"
"Well, I spent all my time in a quest for knowledge, power. In the end it wasn't a very happy existence."
"So how did it happen... you dying that is." Emalia moved to the bed, sitting near Colin as she looked over to him.
"It was so long ago, sometimes I feel like I can barely remember it," Colin answered with a sigh. "A dragon killed me."
"That must have been terrifying."
"Anyway, it was long ago, and I had nothing of what I have now." Colin looked at Emalia with a small smile. "With you I have everything I was missing."
Emalia smiled in return. To be everything that was missing was an honor. She still didn't know how it was that she could be such a thing to anyone, but she wouldn't admit to such an insecurity. The statement turned her thoughts toward her own family. She wouldn't be seeing them again after this, and while she cared for little now, the idea of at least saying goodbye to the Uncle she hadn't seen in ages crossed her mind. "I don't think you've ever met my Uncle Sandorin, have you?"Colin looked on with a blank expression. "You have only introduced me to your father. You were so eager to set off yesterday."
"You'll like him. He's a good man too, though we rarely saw him with his desires to conduct his studies. I suppose he just came into my thoughts... I wouldn't mind saying goodbye to him. I doubt with the way he was he's going to be around after the RoK falls." Emalia looked to Colin, noticing that he had completely turned away from her.
"You either," she added quietly.
"I don't know if this it the time to go about meeting family. Considering the context of this journey."
"Well, this is the only time we're going to have... We're... well... not coming back. And besides it wouldn't be that long."
"You think he will be alright with you going?"
"It doesn't matter. I doubt he would try to stop me."
It seemed odd to Emalia that Colin was attempting to turn her from seeing her family - moreover turning her from something she wanted. "I just think it's best to get things underway, not take the chance of things getting and harder or more complicated then they are already," Colin said. In a way he was right, but the nagging darkness began again. Emalia wasn't about to give up on her right to family - regardless of whether it was a member that she'd not seen since the time she'd just met Colin.
"I don't understand," Emalia said. "Who is to say he won't offer to help... My uncle has never done anything underhanded like those others in any case."
"Does he have the same beliefs as you?"
"No. But neither do you. I guess I just don't understand why you seem so against my talking to my uncle for the last time. I'm never going to see him again, Colin. Everyone else I've at least spoken to in the past, recent. Him... last I spoke to him was when we first met."
Emalia watched as Colin moved from the packing he had begun to sit beside her on the edge of the bed. He bowed his head, staring at his hands. "Emalia, you have never introduced me but I do know of Sandorin, from my previous life. I had no idea he was your uncle, though."
The clenching of Emalia's insides forced her to hunch in the tiniest bit to keep herself in order. "Then there should be no trouble at all."
"We had some differing views though," Colin sighed. "It's complicated and not really something that I would like to rehash."
"What happened with the two of you?"
"I'm not necessarily proud of the person I was. I was quite consumed with the aquisition of power. So was your uncle, to some extent. That is why he came to me, to study under me."
Emalia felt the tremors rising up inside of her. The darkness returned, gripping at her and taunting with the idea that she was about to hear something new. Something different. Something withheld from her. The idea that this was happening, coming from Colin... "Study... but... Uncle Sandorin is a Wizard... not... not a fighter..."
"You forget, I was not always like this. I was once very skilled in magic. Over time, his views changed though and he disagreed with some of the methods and avenues of my studies."
Emalia stared at her lap. For this to be true, something had to be terribly wrong. "What... methods and avenues did you travel? For Uncle Sandorin to refuse study... it..." 'would have to be truly terrible,' her thoughts concluded."I was much different then Emalia. I was consumed with gaining power and knowledge. I didn't shun the ways of death. I was so misguided. My life was so meaningless yet I didn't even know it."
Still, Emalia sat with her innards clenched as if frozen tightly in place. She spoke with her voice barely above a whisper. "Is that how you... came into this body? I... I mean... how... why?"
"That's the irony. It was my mastery of death that allowed me to continue on after my physical demise. And ultimately allowed me to be here."
"Then why can't you do what you used to be able to do?"
"I can't truly explain that. Somewhere in the transition from my previous life I lost my connection to the arcane. But in a way I don't mind. It helps me to focus more on the things that are truly important." Emalia took this moment to continue staring at her hands. Colin continued, "Your Uncle actually helped to make me who I am. Literally. He helped me to make my body."
Could anyone have seen the normally pale woman at that moment doing anything but laying down, they may have wondered how the dead were able to rise. Every ounce of color seemed to have left her, leaving her very light grey. Flashes of heat rose through her and vanished with the presence of the opposite chill that drove in after. She could think of nothing to say, her thoughts were choked in the bottleneck of news. Her Uncle Sandorin had never told her anything of his studies. She knew only that her mother felt they were dangerous. She didn't know who he studied under, she didn't know why, she didn't know how long... but apparently, the being her mother felt was dangerous was the very one sitting beside her in a body constructed by his pupil who happened to be her Uncle-
Emalia rose from the bed amidst Colin's apologies. No, she would think nothing on this. Colin was Colin and - yes - he was Colin. Nothing had changed. No, her world wasn't falling down... only the RoK would once she reached it. Nothing had changed. She walked from the room, carrying her bag with her in order to load their horses, leaving a somewhat subdued Colin to finish his packing.
Well deserved Rest
Emalia laid there for several hours after Nephesh had gone. She had ceased thinking about the RoK, Nephesh, Crimson Guardians, even Colin. She merely lay there thinking of nothing - her mind seemed to have gone into a vacuous state. It was soothing to melt into the blackness of nothing while staring up at the whiteness of the ceiling - it simply offered her a way to be in a state of limbo - wanting for nothing.
"Hey there. How are you feeling?" The sound of Colin's voice brought her back to the present. The two discussed the fresh happenings with Nephesh, and his reason for leaving. Before she could get too worked up, Colin placed his hand on her leg. It felt that more and more, he touched her to bring her back from the brink of the mental blackness that anger sent her to.
"Did you get all the supplies?" she asked finally.
"Yes, I think I have everything we should need. Although if Nephesh isn't coming I have a bit extra, including a pony I guess we won't be needing."'A pony,' Emalia thought. She couldn't believe that Colin had stopped to think of Nephesh. It warmed her heart just a tiny bit. To know Colin was in such disagreement with the boy when they first met, and now he was thinking of him. "Well, I would say bring it just in case, but I suppose that means another mouth to feed."
"I can just return it tomorrow before we set off."
"Tomorrow," Emalia said, looking to Colin. "Oh no, Colin. We must leave now."
"Emalia, no. We need to have a good meal and a good night's sleep before we set off. Especially you."
She could do nothing in way of convincing Colin to leave. For the first time since they had been together, she listened. They talked about Colin's belief system, for, as Grobnak had informed her, his lack of faith was disturbing. Colin could very well miss the rebirth and be forced into a wall for an unknown period of time. Even as Emalia talked to him, she felt the urge to fight. Darkness tugged at the edges of her thoughts and only one thing laid them to rest. "If there's one thing that I DO believe in, Emalia, it's you. I will follow you anywhere."
How anyone could believe in her, when it felt as though the rest of the realms didn't trust her at all, sent her into tears. She was grateful as she laid back on the bed. As Colin walked out to make their dinner, she rolled to her side, drifting in and out of sleep. Only for a moment would she admit that she was truly exhausted.
"Hey there. How are you feeling?" The sound of Colin's voice brought her back to the present. The two discussed the fresh happenings with Nephesh, and his reason for leaving. Before she could get too worked up, Colin placed his hand on her leg. It felt that more and more, he touched her to bring her back from the brink of the mental blackness that anger sent her to.
"Did you get all the supplies?" she asked finally.
"Yes, I think I have everything we should need. Although if Nephesh isn't coming I have a bit extra, including a pony I guess we won't be needing."'A pony,' Emalia thought. She couldn't believe that Colin had stopped to think of Nephesh. It warmed her heart just a tiny bit. To know Colin was in such disagreement with the boy when they first met, and now he was thinking of him. "Well, I would say bring it just in case, but I suppose that means another mouth to feed."
"I can just return it tomorrow before we set off."
"Tomorrow," Emalia said, looking to Colin. "Oh no, Colin. We must leave now."
"Emalia, no. We need to have a good meal and a good night's sleep before we set off. Especially you."
She could do nothing in way of convincing Colin to leave. For the first time since they had been together, she listened. They talked about Colin's belief system, for, as Grobnak had informed her, his lack of faith was disturbing. Colin could very well miss the rebirth and be forced into a wall for an unknown period of time. Even as Emalia talked to him, she felt the urge to fight. Darkness tugged at the edges of her thoughts and only one thing laid them to rest. "If there's one thing that I DO believe in, Emalia, it's you. I will follow you anywhere."
How anyone could believe in her, when it felt as though the rest of the realms didn't trust her at all, sent her into tears. She was grateful as she laid back on the bed. As Colin walked out to make their dinner, she rolled to her side, drifting in and out of sleep. Only for a moment would she admit that she was truly exhausted.
...loco...
Emalia's bed was comfortable as she lay there, hands behind her head, staring at the door smugly. Nephesh had just walked out of it, looking as though it was permanent this time. 'I don't care,' she reminded herself. And partially, that was true. She had just found out that Nephesh was sent by Grobnak and it crisped her soul to a new shade of black. She had tired of not knowing what everyone else knew, and with her exhaustion from continually using her powers (with and without trying), as well as the effects of a child inside consistantly draining her - her nerves were on edge, and she was more a hellcat than a kitten.
'I don't care,' she reminded herself a second time. And again, it was partially true. She was heading north to bring down the RoK. If she was killing everyone anyway, what did she need from them? Friendship was out of the question, since they all wanted something from her anyway. Love seemed only true on Colin's part. Companionship? No, what difference would that make? 'None,' she thought. And again... it was partially true.
'I'll find my way up there, just me and Colin. We have the map, so we don't need anyone else. I don't need anyone else.' Emalia pushed her head back a bit more into the pillows, causing them to fluff around her arms. "You'll all get what you want!" she yelled at the top of her voice, before breaking out into a laugh. "And I hope it hurts! I hope it hurts when it gets you!" Her laughter rung out anew, a deep laughter laced with high pitched hitches befitting of someone completely insane. And again, that was partially true.
'I don't care,' she reminded herself a second time. And again, it was partially true. She was heading north to bring down the RoK. If she was killing everyone anyway, what did she need from them? Friendship was out of the question, since they all wanted something from her anyway. Love seemed only true on Colin's part. Companionship? No, what difference would that make? 'None,' she thought. And again... it was partially true.
'I'll find my way up there, just me and Colin. We have the map, so we don't need anyone else. I don't need anyone else.' Emalia pushed her head back a bit more into the pillows, causing them to fluff around her arms. "You'll all get what you want!" she yelled at the top of her voice, before breaking out into a laugh. "And I hope it hurts! I hope it hurts when it gets you!" Her laughter rung out anew, a deep laughter laced with high pitched hitches befitting of someone completely insane. And again, that was partially true.
In The Mind
Sanria walked away from Throm, leaving him at the gates of the land where he was beginning to build a new house. She cursed herself inwardly - she had lied to him and she detested telling lies, but what else could she do? She had found out from him that Emalia was pregnant, and if Emalia was pregnant, she had no doubt that Thasmudyan knew. She was beyond infuriated with both of them, but that really didn't matter. She just knew two things. One - Thasmudyan and Remus were still in the north, and Two - she wouldn't be able to bear bringing Throm with her to save them.
The beratings began as she marched back toward the airship tarmack. Breaking up with Throm to save her ex-husband... 'though,' she mused, 'there wasn't really a break-up when all we were was just... well, friends.' It seemed in any case, that Throm's life simply wasn't going to allow for her to be in it other than extraneously. 'Horse crap and you know it old woman,' she told herself. She shook her head to her voice inside. "No," she spoke aloud,"I will keep telling myself such a thing because it makes this all easier." The fact was that she was actually upset with Thasmudyan. If he would have just let her die in the snow, she'd not be in the situation of having to keep he and Throm seperate for nothing more than hiding her own feelings. "I'm too old for all this anyway."
Her mind went to Emalia and her pregnancy. A baby she would probably not see if the present was any indication. Who was the mystery man who had knocked up her daughter? She didn't even know. She was going to be a grandmother, and that, too, made her feel ancient.
She arrived at the tarmack and went up into one of the control towers. It took a bit of convincing, but finally the tower allowed her a moment to make contact with the Weave. "Skive - Come in, Skive?"
"Madame Sanria, I read."
"Good. Have you had any luck?"
"No m'am."
"I'm sorry, but I need you to come back for me."
"Madame?"
"Just... sub-ether back here to Torregiano and get me. We'll quickly refuel and get back north."
"Just you?"
"Yes, just me."
"What about the gentleman-"
"Skive, please. Hurry. I'll be at the fuel pump."
"Aye, captain."
Sanria exited the tower, shaking her head. Her stomach was in knots. After all the trouble of finding Throm, begging him to take her with him on his travels, she left him. 'You make absolutely no sense you stupid old fool,' she chastised inwardly. 'You throw away everything at the drop of a hat.' "Well he didn't object to my going, did he?" she muttered aloud. 'Foolish, foolish woman. Now, you're not only stupid, you're alone.' Only the explosive sound of teleportation engines drowned out any further inner dialogue. Her ship descended, and was docked for fueling. She avoided looking at Skive, feeling that to do so, would risk the entire realms knowing just how foolish she really could be. She simply stood with a hand on the hull of her ship, her face growing more red as she tried not to dwell on the fact that Throm did, indeed, know her... hiding in her house... she fooled no one and she knew it.
The beratings began as she marched back toward the airship tarmack. Breaking up with Throm to save her ex-husband... 'though,' she mused, 'there wasn't really a break-up when all we were was just... well, friends.' It seemed in any case, that Throm's life simply wasn't going to allow for her to be in it other than extraneously. 'Horse crap and you know it old woman,' she told herself. She shook her head to her voice inside. "No," she spoke aloud,"I will keep telling myself such a thing because it makes this all easier." The fact was that she was actually upset with Thasmudyan. If he would have just let her die in the snow, she'd not be in the situation of having to keep he and Throm seperate for nothing more than hiding her own feelings. "I'm too old for all this anyway."
Her mind went to Emalia and her pregnancy. A baby she would probably not see if the present was any indication. Who was the mystery man who had knocked up her daughter? She didn't even know. She was going to be a grandmother, and that, too, made her feel ancient.
She arrived at the tarmack and went up into one of the control towers. It took a bit of convincing, but finally the tower allowed her a moment to make contact with the Weave. "Skive - Come in, Skive?"
"Madame Sanria, I read."
"Good. Have you had any luck?"
"No m'am."
"I'm sorry, but I need you to come back for me."
"Madame?"
"Just... sub-ether back here to Torregiano and get me. We'll quickly refuel and get back north."
"Just you?"
"Yes, just me."
"What about the gentleman-"
"Skive, please. Hurry. I'll be at the fuel pump."
"Aye, captain."
Sanria exited the tower, shaking her head. Her stomach was in knots. After all the trouble of finding Throm, begging him to take her with him on his travels, she left him. 'You make absolutely no sense you stupid old fool,' she chastised inwardly. 'You throw away everything at the drop of a hat.' "Well he didn't object to my going, did he?" she muttered aloud. 'Foolish, foolish woman. Now, you're not only stupid, you're alone.' Only the explosive sound of teleportation engines drowned out any further inner dialogue. Her ship descended, and was docked for fueling. She avoided looking at Skive, feeling that to do so, would risk the entire realms knowing just how foolish she really could be. She simply stood with a hand on the hull of her ship, her face growing more red as she tried not to dwell on the fact that Throm did, indeed, know her... hiding in her house... she fooled no one and she knew it.
In The Snow
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.
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.
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