Gilean sat in the chair in the living room near the fireplace reading a large book about something to do with expunging exotic poisons. Truth be told, though his eyes had been scanning over the words for many minutes, he hadn't read a single bit of it. His thoughts were far too absorbed with the tumultuous state of his family.
It hadn't helped that Claire had managed a visit yesterday. She was able to only briefly slip away from the oppressive watch of Ruthivan but the woman who Gilean saw seemed far from the Claire he knew... the Claire he loved. The magical flames normally alight upon her head were practically non-existent and she showed almost no emotion. She seemed somehow broken and it absolutely tore at Gilean's heart.
It was worse when Matinus wouldn't even acknowledge Claire as his mother. 'She is not my mom! Sanria is my mom! She's here, and she loves me!' The boy's words still rang through Gilean's mind. He had yelled at Matinus and sent him to his room, angered to see the additional pain those words inflicted on the already broken Claire. Claire had criticized Gilean for reprimanding the boy.
'He has every right to feel as he does. Matinus felt threatened by something, and I believe that something is his father standing with another woman who is never here saying to hug her and treat her like a mother. I am no longer his mother. I am merely the woman who gave him life.'
Gilean had accepted Claire's words and later spoke to Matinus. He attempted to apologize for not always being there for his son. First when he lost Claire to Ruthivan, then more recently when Sanria was taken by Velentham. Matinus had been very guarded and resentful, even going so far as to tell Gilean, 'If you leave mom I'm going to live with her. I don't want to live with you, Dad. Not if you want that other lady. Because I don't believe you.'
That had almost been too much for Gilean. Not only had the boy questioned his feelings for Sanria, but to hear another of his children essentially tell him what a terrible father he was... It was too late to change things for Mirin, who had essentially grown up with the Stones, but it wasn't too late for Matinus. He had promised his son then and there he would do whatever was necessary to keep this family together.
Here he sat with the knowledge of Kalidra's secret weighing on him. There was no baby. It was a secret he would bear. He had to see this family stay together. For Matinus, for Nioma, for Sanria, for the little one yet to be born. He would do whatever it took. This time, things would be right.
Showing posts with label Velentham. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Velentham. Show all posts
Sickening Conclusions
Velentham left Ieridenth's room and passed through the band of roudy men who were fast growing drunk. He walked to the corner of the immense cavern and sat down on the ground where the wall gave way to a nook. It afforded a small measure of solitude. He stared at his hands, his vision still milk white, his own visage slowly changing from bright light in the midst of the white, to a dimmer color. Gray.
There was no mistaking what it meant. He wasn't clean in his own consciousness, and it was growing apparent. It had to be his agreement with Ieridenth, siding with the sleazy undercurrent of this world, that was changing him. There was no other reason that he could accept.
Velentham let out a growling sigh and shook his head. At least if he could get out of here, his vision would have some level of normalcy. He wouldn't have to see what he'd become. But even with freedom... he could never return home. The ties that held him, kept him above everything, his birthright, was no longer his. He had everything taken from him - his righteousness, his standing, his ability to stand behind his people. He was like a butterfly with its wings pulled off - a caterpillar with memories of flight.
His eyes narrowed a bit more. All he'd ever wanted was the love of Sanria, the comfort of his father's demi-plane, and a family that he could raise and protect. At least he punished his cousin thoroughly for ruining that, even if it did mean he had to kill what he loved.
Velentham felt the twinge in his gut and his anger elevate. It was difficult enough to be in this place, surrounded by evil, but with each negative emotion, he began to spiral farther down still. Why not get out of here and do whatever he wanted? He was still better than everyone else, smarter than even the tribunal that sentenced him here. There was no reason he wouldn't be able to command numbers to do as he willed. There was nothing left to stop him.
As Velentham felt these thoughts, realizing he wanted nothing but to punish everyone alive for how he felt, he also noticed the gray color of himself in his vision ever growing darker - increment by increment.
There was no mistaking what it meant. He wasn't clean in his own consciousness, and it was growing apparent. It had to be his agreement with Ieridenth, siding with the sleazy undercurrent of this world, that was changing him. There was no other reason that he could accept.
Velentham let out a growling sigh and shook his head. At least if he could get out of here, his vision would have some level of normalcy. He wouldn't have to see what he'd become. But even with freedom... he could never return home. The ties that held him, kept him above everything, his birthright, was no longer his. He had everything taken from him - his righteousness, his standing, his ability to stand behind his people. He was like a butterfly with its wings pulled off - a caterpillar with memories of flight.
His eyes narrowed a bit more. All he'd ever wanted was the love of Sanria, the comfort of his father's demi-plane, and a family that he could raise and protect. At least he punished his cousin thoroughly for ruining that, even if it did mean he had to kill what he loved.
Velentham felt the twinge in his gut and his anger elevate. It was difficult enough to be in this place, surrounded by evil, but with each negative emotion, he began to spiral farther down still. Why not get out of here and do whatever he wanted? He was still better than everyone else, smarter than even the tribunal that sentenced him here. There was no reason he wouldn't be able to command numbers to do as he willed. There was nothing left to stop him.
As Velentham felt these thoughts, realizing he wanted nothing but to punish everyone alive for how he felt, he also noticed the gray color of himself in his vision ever growing darker - increment by increment.
Making Plans for Escape
"Yes. Even those, I guess."
Ieridenth grinned broadly and sat on his desk. He leaned forward, his face near to Velentham's. "Don't you know that is such a coincidence that I could cloak us as those beasts to get us to the first portal. If you could use your magic..."
"And what happens when we get out, idiot? Where do you think we can go? I can't do what my father did, so-"
"What does that matter?" Ieridenth soothed. "If we can get to the Outlands, we can do wherever we want. Stay in Torch, or move to other places. Sigil is right up the spire-"
"I know," Velentham spat.
"Then, what would you have? Here, or freedom?"
Ieridenth smiled, a look of gracious magnanimity infiltrating his every feature. He held to the hope that the desire to be free of this place would course through Velentham's heart - and he wasn't disappointed. "So," Velentham said quietly, "You disguise us as insects and get us to the portals. I read them and unlock them, and lead us out to Torch?"
"Yes."
"So I do all the work."
Ieridenth felt the cold chill of hatred run through him for a moment before he smiled again. The arrogance of this one was unparalleled.
"Without me you would have no hope of finding the portals. I feel that is beyond equal in our escape."
"And what of your - men?"
"Those of simple minds must fend for themselves, right? After all, they are not Celestial as we are. Hell is not a proper home for our greatness. Wouldn't you agree?"
"And what if we must fight?"
"Then we must. Once in Torch, we can part ways, or, if you'd like, you could hire my services."
"What need would I possibly have of you?"
"One never knows when my special talents will come in handy."
Ieridenth grinned broadly and sat on his desk. He leaned forward, his face near to Velentham's. "Don't you know that is such a coincidence that I could cloak us as those beasts to get us to the first portal. If you could use your magic..."
"And what happens when we get out, idiot? Where do you think we can go? I can't do what my father did, so-"
"What does that matter?" Ieridenth soothed. "If we can get to the Outlands, we can do wherever we want. Stay in Torch, or move to other places. Sigil is right up the spire-"
"I know," Velentham spat.
"Then, what would you have? Here, or freedom?"
Ieridenth smiled, a look of gracious magnanimity infiltrating his every feature. He held to the hope that the desire to be free of this place would course through Velentham's heart - and he wasn't disappointed. "So," Velentham said quietly, "You disguise us as insects and get us to the portals. I read them and unlock them, and lead us out to Torch?"
"Yes."
"So I do all the work."
Ieridenth felt the cold chill of hatred run through him for a moment before he smiled again. The arrogance of this one was unparalleled.
"Without me you would have no hope of finding the portals. I feel that is beyond equal in our escape."
"And what of your - men?"
"Those of simple minds must fend for themselves, right? After all, they are not Celestial as we are. Hell is not a proper home for our greatness. Wouldn't you agree?"
"And what if we must fight?"
"Then we must. Once in Torch, we can part ways, or, if you'd like, you could hire my services."
"What need would I possibly have of you?"
"One never knows when my special talents will come in handy."
Exploitation of Treasure
Ieridenth read for a long while, ignoring the sounds of raucous and drunken laughter from beyond his door. His eyes were intent on the passage before him:
"Guardinals are all known to possess the ability to speak with any animal."
Did any animal include insects? Ieridenth sat back for a moment, his fingers on his chin. If he could disguise himself and Velentham as Mezzoloths, even speaking as them, they might have a chance. The problem would be ensuring Velentham didn't go crazy. He was already spiraling down the longer he was here. It aggravated Ieridenth having to call off his men to deal with the petty squabbles they all got into.
He closed the book and placed it beneath a few others on the pile beside his desk. Then he got up and walked to the door, peeking his head out. "Friend, Velentham," he called. Once he had Velentham's attention, he waved a hand. "Come, let's chat."
"What do you want?" Velentham said as he approached.
Ieridenth closed the door behind them, noting how big Velentham seemed in the small space of his room. He held his hand out to his chair. "Please, sit." Velentham obeyed. "How good are you at reading runes?""Expert," the Guardinal snorted.
"Even demonic runes?"
"Runes are simple, much like those who can't read them."
Ieridenth let the insult slide and he grinned lightly. "I have a proposition for you, my friend. One I think would be mutually beneficial for both of us."
"Go on."
"There are portals in this land which lead to the various levels of Gehenna and eventually," here Ieridenth paused and fluttered his hand to the sky in a grand gesture, "out."
"That is how most of these forsaken places work. What is the proposition?"
"You can speak to animals, can you not?"
"I try not to link with simple minds." Again, Ieridenth let the insult slide. "But you can."
"Yes."
"Even those insects that had you on the ground simpering like an invalid and ready to accept death?"
This time, Ieridenth smiled at the fresh bloom of red that came over Velentham's cheeks. Insult delivered, action required.
"Guardinals are all known to possess the ability to speak with any animal."
Did any animal include insects? Ieridenth sat back for a moment, his fingers on his chin. If he could disguise himself and Velentham as Mezzoloths, even speaking as them, they might have a chance. The problem would be ensuring Velentham didn't go crazy. He was already spiraling down the longer he was here. It aggravated Ieridenth having to call off his men to deal with the petty squabbles they all got into.
He closed the book and placed it beneath a few others on the pile beside his desk. Then he got up and walked to the door, peeking his head out. "Friend, Velentham," he called. Once he had Velentham's attention, he waved a hand. "Come, let's chat."
"What do you want?" Velentham said as he approached.
Ieridenth closed the door behind them, noting how big Velentham seemed in the small space of his room. He held his hand out to his chair. "Please, sit." Velentham obeyed. "How good are you at reading runes?""Expert," the Guardinal snorted.
"Even demonic runes?"
"Runes are simple, much like those who can't read them."
Ieridenth let the insult slide and he grinned lightly. "I have a proposition for you, my friend. One I think would be mutually beneficial for both of us."
"Go on."
"There are portals in this land which lead to the various levels of Gehenna and eventually," here Ieridenth paused and fluttered his hand to the sky in a grand gesture, "out."
"That is how most of these forsaken places work. What is the proposition?"
"You can speak to animals, can you not?"
"I try not to link with simple minds." Again, Ieridenth let the insult slide. "But you can."
"Yes."
"Even those insects that had you on the ground simpering like an invalid and ready to accept death?"
This time, Ieridenth smiled at the fresh bloom of red that came over Velentham's cheeks. Insult delivered, action required.
I Just Want to Make Things Right (2/3)
Mirin felt her father's uneasiness at the sight of her. She gave an inward chuckle, Gilean never was good at hiding his emotions. He insisted on refreshing her, and though she didn't feel any need for it, she allowed her father to lay on hands to heal up every bit of ache and wear on her soul. She was grateful - the statement she'd come to make was certain to wear her down. "Tell me, what is it Mirin."
'Dad... it's about Sanria and you... and Colin,' she telepathed.
"Me, Sanria, and Colin?"
'I know you and Sanria got married and you're together but... I don't... I don't think it's the way it's supposed to be.'
"You don't think it's the way it's supposed to be?"
'She's supposed to be with Colin, Dad.' And pain came onto her father's face.
She couldn't meet his eyes, knowing that she was crossing a line that wasn't hers to cross, but she conjured up the image of Mr. Stone pacing and lost. "How do you determine this?" Gilean interrupted.
'You're good at being alone, Dad... and... you haven't been much of a Dad. Colin... he isn't good at being alone. Even though he's got me and Orn and the babies...'
"Look, Mirin... I know I've had some tough times. I'm so sorry for that. I'm doing everything I can to be a better father... and grandfather. How... how do you figure I'm better at being alone then him?"
'You've done it and... you have a place to go and something to do with your time. You go lose yourself in healing people. You have a way to be alone and not be alone... Colin... doesn't.'
Gilean stared at his lap and Mirin felt more guilty than ever before. She did love her father, she did care. But the idea that he was behind the tear down of the Stones was too much. She'd grown up knowing Orn's mother and father. They were together, always.
'This was supposed to be how they got back together, Dad... He went away to get fixed and now he's fixed...'
"I'm sorry if I've been a bad father to you Mirin... so sorry. I don't mean to have hurt you. But if you think I should be punished because of that..."
'Punished? No... no it's not a punishment, Dad. It's making things right.'
"Making things right? Mirin, things finally are right for me. Velentham's gone, Sanria's back, Matinus and Nioma have a whole family, and Sanria and I are going to have a baby."
'... then... fix it Dad... let her go where she belongs. Colin's a great dad... he would be great taking care of the kids. Even Matinus.'
"Mirin, it's not Sanria and Colin anymore. Sanria is my wife. She had chosen to be with me. I'm sorry if Colin is missing something, but what you're suggesting... I would be missing everything. Even my own son."
'Dad... it's about Sanria and you... and Colin,' she telepathed.
"Me, Sanria, and Colin?"
'I know you and Sanria got married and you're together but... I don't... I don't think it's the way it's supposed to be.'
"You don't think it's the way it's supposed to be?"
'She's supposed to be with Colin, Dad.' And pain came onto her father's face.
She couldn't meet his eyes, knowing that she was crossing a line that wasn't hers to cross, but she conjured up the image of Mr. Stone pacing and lost. "How do you determine this?" Gilean interrupted.
'You're good at being alone, Dad... and... you haven't been much of a Dad. Colin... he isn't good at being alone. Even though he's got me and Orn and the babies...'
"Look, Mirin... I know I've had some tough times. I'm so sorry for that. I'm doing everything I can to be a better father... and grandfather. How... how do you figure I'm better at being alone then him?"
'You've done it and... you have a place to go and something to do with your time. You go lose yourself in healing people. You have a way to be alone and not be alone... Colin... doesn't.'
Gilean stared at his lap and Mirin felt more guilty than ever before. She did love her father, she did care. But the idea that he was behind the tear down of the Stones was too much. She'd grown up knowing Orn's mother and father. They were together, always.
'This was supposed to be how they got back together, Dad... He went away to get fixed and now he's fixed...'
"I'm sorry if I've been a bad father to you Mirin... so sorry. I don't mean to have hurt you. But if you think I should be punished because of that..."
'Punished? No... no it's not a punishment, Dad. It's making things right.'
"Making things right? Mirin, things finally are right for me. Velentham's gone, Sanria's back, Matinus and Nioma have a whole family, and Sanria and I are going to have a baby."
'... then... fix it Dad... let her go where she belongs. Colin's a great dad... he would be great taking care of the kids. Even Matinus.'
"Mirin, it's not Sanria and Colin anymore. Sanria is my wife. She had chosen to be with me. I'm sorry if Colin is missing something, but what you're suggesting... I would be missing everything. Even my own son."
Stealing Fire
Kaliadra vanished into her old room, her chest filled with a crushing sensation. No one roamed these halls, here, in Sir Throm's home; she would be safe in her rented room. She could barely breathe as she dropped onto her bed, sending up a tuft of curling dust. The pain she felt inside was unbearable, and she growled out a curse. There, on her table was her old diary... writing always helped.
A new diary entry left open upon a small white table:
I feel filthy. The deed I have committed is vile and reprehensible and it coats me like the stench of death, lingering on my body. I laid down with Sir Colin in the hopes of driving Sanria to stay with Sir Gilean. When I heard Sir Colin say that he couldn't give her up, I had to be the one to drive the wedge. What could I have done otherwise?!
I tire of feeling Sanria's indecisiveness, even when I fold myself in lycanthropic skin, I can feel it. But I question myself now, because in my efforts to force the situation, I had discovered that her love for this man has driven her to despair. I knew she would hurt, I was prepared for that... but not this. Not this soul freezing, soul crushing pain... pain so intense it is everywhere at once. Damn Sanria!
For my own part - yes. I wanted the experience. I had not given myself to any until that moment. I find myself wishing it could have been with one I loved, but... that one is long past gone. I've only ever felt affections for him... but he did not feel them for me. It is all most definitely for the best- given this inexorable pain marching on my soul, I want not for this again.
I have done something wrong. I had full hopes it would make my the small pains of Sanria's choices end. I have never been so terribly mistaken in all my time. Lady Sune, were she anywhere to hear of this, would likely be disappointed. Yet another entity that has abandoned us. Between the two of them and Velentham for his part... it is only the children of my life-mate that stays my hand against myself.
Damn Lithanus! Damn Sanria! Damn Sune! Damn Velentham! Damn them all!
A new diary entry left open upon a small white table:
I feel filthy. The deed I have committed is vile and reprehensible and it coats me like the stench of death, lingering on my body. I laid down with Sir Colin in the hopes of driving Sanria to stay with Sir Gilean. When I heard Sir Colin say that he couldn't give her up, I had to be the one to drive the wedge. What could I have done otherwise?!
I tire of feeling Sanria's indecisiveness, even when I fold myself in lycanthropic skin, I can feel it. But I question myself now, because in my efforts to force the situation, I had discovered that her love for this man has driven her to despair. I knew she would hurt, I was prepared for that... but not this. Not this soul freezing, soul crushing pain... pain so intense it is everywhere at once. Damn Sanria!
For my own part - yes. I wanted the experience. I had not given myself to any until that moment. I find myself wishing it could have been with one I loved, but... that one is long past gone. I've only ever felt affections for him... but he did not feel them for me. It is all most definitely for the best- given this inexorable pain marching on my soul, I want not for this again.
I have done something wrong. I had full hopes it would make my the small pains of Sanria's choices end. I have never been so terribly mistaken in all my time. Lady Sune, were she anywhere to hear of this, would likely be disappointed. Yet another entity that has abandoned us. Between the two of them and Velentham for his part... it is only the children of my life-mate that stays my hand against myself.
Damn Lithanus! Damn Sanria! Damn Sune! Damn Velentham! Damn them all!
Accepting Insults
Velentham laid in the cavernous home of the Fallen Fallen with calculating eyes. The men that came in were jovial enough, and most seemed willing to share with him whatever bounty they came across. As unbelievable as it was, this hellish place had cities tucked away, populated by demons. The Fallen Fallen would go out in droves, catch wealthy demons unawares, slay them and take their money, trinkets, and gems. They added them to the hoard and used them to barter with higher demons later.
"Ey, lad," Gurk called, shuffling into the cavern. "Thinkin' ya might take a shinin' ta fixin up yourn leg and joinin us next time?"
"Ya got yer magic, fix it already, bloody hell," joined Rourke.
"I don't feel like it," said Velentham.
"Right princess, this un," Gurk said with a snort.
"Watch your tongue," Velentham hissed.
"Or what? You'll actually get up n' do somethin' fer a change?"
Velentham began to chant. In his eyes, the entire cavern was the color of milk in water, the bodies of the men inside showed as dark, like shadows. It was the way he saw evil, a way that enabled him to see in any light, to target, to hunt. He could feel the massive voltage growing, traveling his limbs to his hand held aloft. He could feel the tips of his fingers beginning to tingle with restrained energy, then he let it go.
The white hot light shot through the space and suddenly vanished. Velentham snarled as he jerked his eyes over to Ieridenth. 'The swaggering idiot,' Velentham thought.
"That's no way to treat your hosts," Ieridenth smirked. "And you, Gurk, watch your mouth. Our guest is healing."
"Guest my bald arse," he snapped. "He tried ta kill me he did."
"You deserved it," Ieridenth grinned.
"Son of hell," Gurk cursed.
"Friend," Ieridenth said, walking to Velentham, "You have to excuse Gurk. Sometimes we don't get along down in this pit, but if we always flung lightning there'd not be enough of us to go around."
Velentham glared at Ieridenth, who looked the color of a shadow in the milky whiteness. He knew he was dealing with beings just as twisted as those in Heifong, the only difference was that now he saw them as they were. He closed his eyes with a grumble and shoved his ire with Gurk from his mind.
"Ey, lad," Gurk called, shuffling into the cavern. "Thinkin' ya might take a shinin' ta fixin up yourn leg and joinin us next time?"
"Ya got yer magic, fix it already, bloody hell," joined Rourke.
"I don't feel like it," said Velentham.
"Right princess, this un," Gurk said with a snort.
"Watch your tongue," Velentham hissed.
"Or what? You'll actually get up n' do somethin' fer a change?"
Velentham began to chant. In his eyes, the entire cavern was the color of milk in water, the bodies of the men inside showed as dark, like shadows. It was the way he saw evil, a way that enabled him to see in any light, to target, to hunt. He could feel the massive voltage growing, traveling his limbs to his hand held aloft. He could feel the tips of his fingers beginning to tingle with restrained energy, then he let it go.
The white hot light shot through the space and suddenly vanished. Velentham snarled as he jerked his eyes over to Ieridenth. 'The swaggering idiot,' Velentham thought.
"That's no way to treat your hosts," Ieridenth smirked. "And you, Gurk, watch your mouth. Our guest is healing."
"Guest my bald arse," he snapped. "He tried ta kill me he did."
"You deserved it," Ieridenth grinned.
"Son of hell," Gurk cursed.
"Friend," Ieridenth said, walking to Velentham, "You have to excuse Gurk. Sometimes we don't get along down in this pit, but if we always flung lightning there'd not be enough of us to go around."
Velentham glared at Ieridenth, who looked the color of a shadow in the milky whiteness. He knew he was dealing with beings just as twisted as those in Heifong, the only difference was that now he saw them as they were. He closed his eyes with a grumble and shoved his ire with Gurk from his mind.
Turning Tide
The next day had come and gone and Sanria was once again laying in bed with Gilean, taking stock of everything. Gilean had noted digging on the grave, and Sanria had to fess up to her feelings - that Velentham had ruined her life. Gilean stared at her for a moment before reminding her that her life wasn't ruined. He was there, their family was there, even Colin had been given back his memories and while not with her, had the knowledge of what family he did have - Orn, Leandra, and his grandchildren.
Still, Sanria felt the loss of the first child Velentham took, and the loss of the second she had done in herself. Then she finally admitted it, the feeling she'd been holding as secret since the return of Colin's mind. "I don't think I can do this."
She was showered in love - held, kissed, reassured. It was the first time she'd felt, strangely enough, that Gilean wanted her and was ready to do anything to keep her around. For the first time in a while she felt worthy... but still the small feeling maintained its grip on the edge of her thoughts.
They made love, and Gilean put a hand to her stomach, sending his own strange magic into her and she felt it. "How..." she whispered. To have a child, already, after everything, she knew he had to have orchestrated things.
"Life will always find a way. Now we can look forward, and he will help us do that."
Something melted away from her, something that held her captive and circling the abyss. Suddenly, she was back on track, she was with the man she married, a man she loved, and they were going to have their family. "I assure you," Gilean said, "I am going to do anything and everything for my family." For the first time Sanria heard and understood that his statement included her.
Still, Sanria felt the loss of the first child Velentham took, and the loss of the second she had done in herself. Then she finally admitted it, the feeling she'd been holding as secret since the return of Colin's mind. "I don't think I can do this."
She was showered in love - held, kissed, reassured. It was the first time she'd felt, strangely enough, that Gilean wanted her and was ready to do anything to keep her around. For the first time in a while she felt worthy... but still the small feeling maintained its grip on the edge of her thoughts.
They made love, and Gilean put a hand to her stomach, sending his own strange magic into her and she felt it. "How..." she whispered. To have a child, already, after everything, she knew he had to have orchestrated things.
"Life will always find a way. Now we can look forward, and he will help us do that."
Something melted away from her, something that held her captive and circling the abyss. Suddenly, she was back on track, she was with the man she married, a man she loved, and they were going to have their family. "I assure you," Gilean said, "I am going to do anything and everything for my family." For the first time Sanria heard and understood that his statement included her.
Tiny Infants, Looming Saddness
Sanria and Gilean walked to the cavern. They could have used magic, but in truth, the walk was sorely needed. He had talked her into going to visit the babies at the cavern where Orn and Mirin had filled the void left behind by Leandra's exodus. They strolled through the woods, hand in hand, Sanria sneaking tiny glances over at the silvery-haired young man. Even with all the stresses that had been heaped upon him, he still looked young. She had noticed the same could no longer be said for her. She was entirely dependent upon Kaliadra for her life and it was clear that the elf had very slowly aged. It was reflected in Sanria's tiny little lines. Gilean assured her the magic woven by Velentham would fade and when it did, she'd once again be on track for a date with death in the future. A blessed relief that she'd welcome... but for now...
They arrived to be greeted by Colin with an infant in each arm. They were tiny, but beautiful, with a shock of purplish hair on their heads. As soon as Sanria and Gilean walked in, Sanria could feel the slow rise of tension. Colin had eyes only for her, and she knew the message he was trying to telepath - she'd seen it many times before. Seeing her was torture for him and each time they'd connect their eyes, she'd feel the undying devotion, the bittersweet longing for their life together that, now, they'd never have. She was shocked to feel the same sensation tugging at her chest. Colin seemed to reserve his smiles only for her, and stayed at her side, near enough that she could feel the warmth rolling from him.
If she could have, Sanria would have closed her eyes and drifted into the large arms. This had been their dream, to have him well so they could finally be together like they were so long ago, but it was cruel how life played the final card. As though he could sense it, Gilean came near, handing Regina back to Colin, with the announcement that they had to return to their own family. Matinus... Nioma... the cottage... yes. That was her home now... not this place, not this man. Sanria could not keep herself from looking back until the door had closed behind them.
That night she admitted her feelings to Gilean, who seemed to take them in like a dry pill. She did love him, she did choose him, she would try her best... all words she'd spoken before. She felt the bitter resentment rise in her and all she wanted was to go out to spit once more on the grave of Velentham. Instead, Gilean settled her, made love to her, and once he slept, she crept from the bed, down the stairs and to the mound outside. "I hate you," she whispered. "You ruined my life." And Sanria began digging to claw at the corpse with her bare hands.
They arrived to be greeted by Colin with an infant in each arm. They were tiny, but beautiful, with a shock of purplish hair on their heads. As soon as Sanria and Gilean walked in, Sanria could feel the slow rise of tension. Colin had eyes only for her, and she knew the message he was trying to telepath - she'd seen it many times before. Seeing her was torture for him and each time they'd connect their eyes, she'd feel the undying devotion, the bittersweet longing for their life together that, now, they'd never have. She was shocked to feel the same sensation tugging at her chest. Colin seemed to reserve his smiles only for her, and stayed at her side, near enough that she could feel the warmth rolling from him.
If she could have, Sanria would have closed her eyes and drifted into the large arms. This had been their dream, to have him well so they could finally be together like they were so long ago, but it was cruel how life played the final card. As though he could sense it, Gilean came near, handing Regina back to Colin, with the announcement that they had to return to their own family. Matinus... Nioma... the cottage... yes. That was her home now... not this place, not this man. Sanria could not keep herself from looking back until the door had closed behind them.
That night she admitted her feelings to Gilean, who seemed to take them in like a dry pill. She did love him, she did choose him, she would try her best... all words she'd spoken before. She felt the bitter resentment rise in her and all she wanted was to go out to spit once more on the grave of Velentham. Instead, Gilean settled her, made love to her, and once he slept, she crept from the bed, down the stairs and to the mound outside. "I hate you," she whispered. "You ruined my life." And Sanria began digging to claw at the corpse with her bare hands.
Losing Ground
She woke to the gold flecked eyes peering into her own with worry, dread,and stale panic. In slow motion, she watched the twitch of his lip give way to words, "Sanria... why did you do that?" She smiled through the exhaustion and took stock. She was, indeed, alive as she'd anticipated. Healed, near to full, as she'd figured. She now looked into the face of fear, of utter concern. He'd wanted to be there, to guide the little soul on its way back to the cosmos. She'd wanted to be alone, to punish it into the ground to fester and rot.
When Gilean told her he was going to move Velentham's body, some exotic tendril snapped in her mind, whipped free in the wind of anger and panic, and demanded to know where he'd be buried next. She didn't want to lose tabs. She knew it was only his carcass - his soul had flown home - but the putrid corpse below the soil was the one place she had to direct every drip of ire, every spear of hate, every tide of loathing. She'd scalded through the dirt to char his body with her churning emptiness. She forced him to give back to her what he'd taken, then realized that he was gone. Velentham was free, so free from all he'd done... but she owned his body. The thought of Gilean stealing it from her caused the panic and alarm to manifest as a sneer. Velentham was her property.
She wanted Gilean to take away any ability to have children, but his face so easily betrayed his feelings. He still wanted a child with her. Not right away, but sometime. 'Why?' Sanria thought. 'Why a child with me?' Her voice, however, did not ask. She felt herself wondering if it weren't simply a way to solidify his ties to her - to bind them together - to keep her from Colin. Her voice, however, did not speak. She gave a partial smile, a nod, and watched the gold-flecked eyes, face of concern, turn away to rest. He expected her to do the same, thinking the words, "It will all be alright," would be no less than 100 percent true.
When Gilean told her he was going to move Velentham's body, some exotic tendril snapped in her mind, whipped free in the wind of anger and panic, and demanded to know where he'd be buried next. She didn't want to lose tabs. She knew it was only his carcass - his soul had flown home - but the putrid corpse below the soil was the one place she had to direct every drip of ire, every spear of hate, every tide of loathing. She'd scalded through the dirt to char his body with her churning emptiness. She forced him to give back to her what he'd taken, then realized that he was gone. Velentham was free, so free from all he'd done... but she owned his body. The thought of Gilean stealing it from her caused the panic and alarm to manifest as a sneer. Velentham was her property.
She wanted Gilean to take away any ability to have children, but his face so easily betrayed his feelings. He still wanted a child with her. Not right away, but sometime. 'Why?' Sanria thought. 'Why a child with me?' Her voice, however, did not ask. She felt herself wondering if it weren't simply a way to solidify his ties to her - to bind them together - to keep her from Colin. Her voice, however, did not speak. She gave a partial smile, a nod, and watched the gold-flecked eyes, face of concern, turn away to rest. He expected her to do the same, thinking the words, "It will all be alright," would be no less than 100 percent true.
Path of Least Resistance
Sanria stepped back to Gilean's side, looking at Orn and Mirin and the new children held in their arms. She took Gilean's hand in her own and felt nothing by way of acknowledgement. She maintained her smile until they got home, and after obligatory congratulations to the brand new grandfather, the conversation drifted to the child held within Sanria.
Gilean was ready to give up his faith, his station at the temple, to help her get rid of Velentham's child. He'd give up everything he'd worked for, his joy in helping others, to be at her side. Rather than make Sanria feel loved, it made her feel guilt. Though she'd been trying not to, Sanria had been spiraling down. More times than she careed to admit, she stood behind the cottage, glaring at the grave of her rapist, dark madness crowding in at the edges of her vision. And of equal concern was her nearly burning desire to dig him up and stab him over and over and...
No. She waited until Gilean slept and went to the small kitchen. She pulled out her herbs and whispered druidic spells over them, increasing the potency of the chemicals in their dried leaves. Pennyroyal was toxic enough, she knew, but the spell that would keep her from dying was stronger. She flooded herself with the mixture, a dose large enough to kill a horse, and staggered outside to sit on the barren hill of Velenham's grave.
She would not let Gilean destroy his living for her or the abomination she carried with her. She'd rid herself of the child, she'd drop it right on the grave. She'd go near death again, dragging Kaliadra with her, she knew - but they'd not cross the threshold just yet. They'd be able to cheat it while the thing in her would go the way of its father.
Kaliadra came storming out the cottage door as the sweat began to form on Sanria's brow. Sanria's vision was starting to swim, the pains of her stomach were beginning to grow, and she vomited onto the grave.
"What in the name of the Nine Hells did you do, Sanria?!"
"Had to... we'll be okay..."
"You idiot," the elf hissed. "I could have helped you!"
"No. You wouldn't."
The elf went into silence as she dropped to her knees, clutching her own stomach as though the abortion was her own as well. Sanria stared back at the grave and gave another wretch. She could feel everything as it happened. The blood flowed, the vomit rolled, and Sanria finally pitched forward. Gilean would find her soon, free from any wrong, and could do what duty he was born to do: healing.
Gilean was ready to give up his faith, his station at the temple, to help her get rid of Velentham's child. He'd give up everything he'd worked for, his joy in helping others, to be at her side. Rather than make Sanria feel loved, it made her feel guilt. Though she'd been trying not to, Sanria had been spiraling down. More times than she careed to admit, she stood behind the cottage, glaring at the grave of her rapist, dark madness crowding in at the edges of her vision. And of equal concern was her nearly burning desire to dig him up and stab him over and over and...
No. She waited until Gilean slept and went to the small kitchen. She pulled out her herbs and whispered druidic spells over them, increasing the potency of the chemicals in their dried leaves. Pennyroyal was toxic enough, she knew, but the spell that would keep her from dying was stronger. She flooded herself with the mixture, a dose large enough to kill a horse, and staggered outside to sit on the barren hill of Velenham's grave.
She would not let Gilean destroy his living for her or the abomination she carried with her. She'd rid herself of the child, she'd drop it right on the grave. She'd go near death again, dragging Kaliadra with her, she knew - but they'd not cross the threshold just yet. They'd be able to cheat it while the thing in her would go the way of its father.
Kaliadra came storming out the cottage door as the sweat began to form on Sanria's brow. Sanria's vision was starting to swim, the pains of her stomach were beginning to grow, and she vomited onto the grave.
"What in the name of the Nine Hells did you do, Sanria?!"
"Had to... we'll be okay..."
"You idiot," the elf hissed. "I could have helped you!"
"No. You wouldn't."
The elf went into silence as she dropped to her knees, clutching her own stomach as though the abortion was her own as well. Sanria stared back at the grave and gave another wretch. She could feel everything as it happened. The blood flowed, the vomit rolled, and Sanria finally pitched forward. Gilean would find her soon, free from any wrong, and could do what duty he was born to do: healing.
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.
The Fallen Fallen
"Ruddy high born, idn'ee?"
"Aye, look at 'is arrogant face. Blimey."
"An his smug look. Right bastard, this one. What ya go an' bring 'im 'ere for, Iree? Shoulda let 'im get skewered."
"Shut up, idiots. He's still got juice left to burn."
"Oy, plannin' on usin 'im up?"
"I plan on bringing him into the fold and maybe getting the hell out of here finally. Longer he stays, though, the less he'll know."
"What makes you think 'e's gonna know anyfin?"
"He's a high born bastard."
----
Velentham's eyes opened slowly, the blazing white of Celestial vision less intense now, though still the figures surrounding him revealed as gray... not quite as bad as the Mezzoloths, but still...
"Where..."
"Easy," said the raspy voice. "You've had quite the tussle. Gurk patched your leg, Fdelph is working the healing, you'll excuse him, he's a novice."
"Like hell, asshole," Fdelph returned in his gruff, aged voice. The raspy voice laughed and looked back. Velentham could see from under the hood the violet eyes that stared back at him. "An Eladrin?"
"Eh, once," came the rasp. "Fallen down the rungs, like you."
"Right Shiere, this 'un."
"Aye, til he took a shinin' to 'is bosses lass and boinked 'er wi' 'is wee stick."
"That's not why I'm here, Gurk."
Gurk let out a snickering laugh. "Oh, aye. It's what started it, though, too right?"
"Where am I?" Velentham asked, feeling a bit stronger. He sat up, still woozy, and looked into the purple eyes. The man pulled back his cowl to reveal slender elf-like features with an unmistakable Celestial twist.
"Underground cave of the Fallen Fallen."
"Is what we call ournselves," Fdelph said, finishing the knot on the rag binding Velentham's leg.
"Fallen Fallen," Velentham repeated.
"Yes. I am Ieridenth Kelearith, Eladrin Shiere, Knight of Norfalt Peren, resident of Arborea. Once resident, anyway."
"And now?"
"Anger got the better of me when Norfalt insulted me for sleeping with his little girl. Though to my credit, she wasn't so little, and she sure wasn't built like a girl."
The laughter of the other castaways filled the cavern and echoed off the rocks, and for the first time, Velentham looked around. He was in a massive rocky room where torches burned against the walls at the sides of magic orbs. Cobbled together furniture lay strewn about, filled with all manner of once higher natured beings in various states of repose. "So, what did you do?" Velentham asked.
"To Norfalt?"
"Yes."
"Gutted him. It wasn't my finest moment." Ieridenth shrugged.
"And who are you?"
"Velentham Arenfeld, Avoral Guardinal, son of Telfenham Arenfeld
of Elysium."
"Ah, the planes traveler's son."
"You've heard of my father?"
"Of course. Let's hope you have some of what he had, eh?"
Ieridenth held out his hand and Velentham took it, shaking it with cautious reserve. "What brings you here?" Ieridenth asked. "Love." And the cavern was once again filled with male laughter.
"Aye, look at 'is arrogant face. Blimey."
"An his smug look. Right bastard, this one. What ya go an' bring 'im 'ere for, Iree? Shoulda let 'im get skewered."
"Shut up, idiots. He's still got juice left to burn."
"Oy, plannin' on usin 'im up?"
"I plan on bringing him into the fold and maybe getting the hell out of here finally. Longer he stays, though, the less he'll know."
"What makes you think 'e's gonna know anyfin?"
"He's a high born bastard."
----
Velentham's eyes opened slowly, the blazing white of Celestial vision less intense now, though still the figures surrounding him revealed as gray... not quite as bad as the Mezzoloths, but still...
"Where..."
"Easy," said the raspy voice. "You've had quite the tussle. Gurk patched your leg, Fdelph is working the healing, you'll excuse him, he's a novice."
"Like hell, asshole," Fdelph returned in his gruff, aged voice. The raspy voice laughed and looked back. Velentham could see from under the hood the violet eyes that stared back at him. "An Eladrin?"
"Eh, once," came the rasp. "Fallen down the rungs, like you."
"Right Shiere, this 'un."
"Aye, til he took a shinin' to 'is bosses lass and boinked 'er wi' 'is wee stick."
"That's not why I'm here, Gurk."
Gurk let out a snickering laugh. "Oh, aye. It's what started it, though, too right?"
"Where am I?" Velentham asked, feeling a bit stronger. He sat up, still woozy, and looked into the purple eyes. The man pulled back his cowl to reveal slender elf-like features with an unmistakable Celestial twist.
"Underground cave of the Fallen Fallen."
"Is what we call ournselves," Fdelph said, finishing the knot on the rag binding Velentham's leg.
"Fallen Fallen," Velentham repeated.
"Yes. I am Ieridenth Kelearith, Eladrin Shiere, Knight of Norfalt Peren, resident of Arborea. Once resident, anyway."
"And now?"
"Anger got the better of me when Norfalt insulted me for sleeping with his little girl. Though to my credit, she wasn't so little, and she sure wasn't built like a girl."
The laughter of the other castaways filled the cavern and echoed off the rocks, and for the first time, Velentham looked around. He was in a massive rocky room where torches burned against the walls at the sides of magic orbs. Cobbled together furniture lay strewn about, filled with all manner of once higher natured beings in various states of repose. "So, what did you do?" Velentham asked.
"To Norfalt?"
"Yes."
"Gutted him. It wasn't my finest moment." Ieridenth shrugged.
"And who are you?"
"Velentham Arenfeld, Avoral Guardinal, son of Telfenham Arenfeld
of Elysium."
"Ah, the planes traveler's son."
"You've heard of my father?"
"Of course. Let's hope you have some of what he had, eh?"
Ieridenth held out his hand and Velentham took it, shaking it with cautious reserve. "What brings you here?" Ieridenth asked. "Love." And the cavern was once again filled with male laughter.
Rescue
Velentham let out a scream of agony as the trident ripped through his thigh, spearing him to the ground. The huge Mezzoloth clicked its pinchers together in its humming, buzzing speech, which Velentham could not understand. "Hnnzzzz'nkot Hnzzz'k'nat!" He reached down, his hand shaking, gripping the trident weakly. His vision was white, though the Mezzoloth stood in black contrast. It was how he saw this world. It drained him.
There had been a battle between Velentham, left standing on a rock, gaping at his new home, and the myriad of Mezzoloths that flew to him on the attack. He had blasted a few of them into oblivion, his Celestial nature kicking in, slaying them until he began to wear down. Then, in the awkward gravity, Velentham lost his footing. He had rolled "down" a flat piece of land, unable to stop until he gripped a stone that jutted from the ground. Then... this.
He looked up, seeing the Mezzoloths flutter down from the skies like a plague of locusts, their thick, squat bodies buzzing as they hit the ground. "Mmmmzakt Nninnzzz'tok," said one. And another lifted his trident high, aiming for Velentham's skull. His end at the hands of insect demons.
Velentham closed his eyes and heard the sizzle of super heated air and the crackle of splitting carapaces. He opened his eyes again and saw a man of his height, cloaked heavily beneath a brown robe, shooting magic in beams so wide the insects burst, spreading green ropy goop on the rocky ground. "Get up," came the raspy voice. "Now."
Velentham rose and the man nodded. He grabbed Velentham by the arm as the Mezzoloths began to swarm in the skies for another attack. He tossed down a vial, smashing it to release a swirl of purple smoke. Velentham could barely hear the man chanting a spell over the din of hundreds of buzzing curses. He felt himself sucked through a vortex, and in the cool air of wherever he was, Velentham blacked out
There had been a battle between Velentham, left standing on a rock, gaping at his new home, and the myriad of Mezzoloths that flew to him on the attack. He had blasted a few of them into oblivion, his Celestial nature kicking in, slaying them until he began to wear down. Then, in the awkward gravity, Velentham lost his footing. He had rolled "down" a flat piece of land, unable to stop until he gripped a stone that jutted from the ground. Then... this.
He looked up, seeing the Mezzoloths flutter down from the skies like a plague of locusts, their thick, squat bodies buzzing as they hit the ground. "Mmmmzakt Nninnzzz'tok," said one. And another lifted his trident high, aiming for Velentham's skull. His end at the hands of insect demons.
Velentham closed his eyes and heard the sizzle of super heated air and the crackle of splitting carapaces. He opened his eyes again and saw a man of his height, cloaked heavily beneath a brown robe, shooting magic in beams so wide the insects burst, spreading green ropy goop on the rocky ground. "Get up," came the raspy voice. "Now."
Velentham rose and the man nodded. He grabbed Velentham by the arm as the Mezzoloths began to swarm in the skies for another attack. He tossed down a vial, smashing it to release a swirl of purple smoke. Velentham could barely hear the man chanting a spell over the din of hundreds of buzzing curses. He felt himself sucked through a vortex, and in the cool air of wherever he was, Velentham blacked out
Current Character Description - Velentham Arenfeld
Velentham stands at an impressive 7 feet, his arms lightly muscled and his body svelt yet strong. His skin shimmers in the light, a dazzling gold that seems to glisten even more whenever he is angered.
Straw-colored hair hangs to his shoulders in gentle waves, moved by the slightest of breezes. His face is narrow and angular with silver eyes that stare out with a supreme look of haughtiness.
Radiant white wings rest close to his back and extend down to his calves with soft feathers. His billowing shirt is spun of the finest silk and his breeches of soft leather. A pair of slender swords hang at his side, their blades exposed and glinting.
Driven to the extreme of madness and greed, his is a one of the fallen, a Celestial no longer welcomed in the beautiful lands of Elysium. He resides now in Gehenna. A place fit for the deeds committed by his hand.
Straw-colored hair hangs to his shoulders in gentle waves, moved by the slightest of breezes. His face is narrow and angular with silver eyes that stare out with a supreme look of haughtiness.
Radiant white wings rest close to his back and extend down to his calves with soft feathers. His billowing shirt is spun of the finest silk and his breeches of soft leather. A pair of slender swords hang at his side, their blades exposed and glinting.
Driven to the extreme of madness and greed, his is a one of the fallen, a Celestial no longer welcomed in the beautiful lands of Elysium. He resides now in Gehenna. A place fit for the deeds committed by his hand.
Chasing Rainbows
Sanria woke to a cool side of the bed, slightly indented, a small note atop Gilean's pillow: "Didn't want to disturb you, took the kids to the temple, enjoy some alone time." She rose and wrapped herself in a housecoat. Even Kaliadra was nowhere to be found.
After standing a long time staring at Nioma's small bed, Sanria wandered to the back of the cottage. She then passed time staring between the grave of her long dead daughter, Emalia, and the fresh mound of earth under which lay the father of her unborn. She stared again for long moments, her mind threatening to knock her to her knees, then spit on the grave. It did nothing to alleviate the sick feeling inside knowing that Velentham would forever be right outside her door.
She went back inside and dressed, appearing at the castle. Things here were exactly as they had always been. It seemed no one knew of her absence, save Enmach, who delightedly hugged her and congratulated her for being back. "Are you certain you should be here already?" Enmach asked with a concerned look. "You only just returned. It may be best if you return home." Sanria could tell by the tone of her voice it wasn't truly a question.
By herself in the cottage, looking into a fire, Sanria felt the tears welling up in her eyes. 'Pregnancy hormones,' she thought, but knew it was more than that. She, for the first time, was able to sit and dwell on what had been done to her. There were no distractions from her own mind and its recollections.
Before she had the chance to shed a tear, however, the sounds of music reached Sanria's ears. She held her breath as the sounds of voices were heard, harmonizing a refrain:
"I doth not want to live without thine love,
I doth not want to face the night alone,
I couldest not make it through mine life,
If I must hath make it on mine own..."
After standing a long time staring at Nioma's small bed, Sanria wandered to the back of the cottage. She then passed time staring between the grave of her long dead daughter, Emalia, and the fresh mound of earth under which lay the father of her unborn. She stared again for long moments, her mind threatening to knock her to her knees, then spit on the grave. It did nothing to alleviate the sick feeling inside knowing that Velentham would forever be right outside her door.
She went back inside and dressed, appearing at the castle. Things here were exactly as they had always been. It seemed no one knew of her absence, save Enmach, who delightedly hugged her and congratulated her for being back. "Are you certain you should be here already?" Enmach asked with a concerned look. "You only just returned. It may be best if you return home." Sanria could tell by the tone of her voice it wasn't truly a question.
By herself in the cottage, looking into a fire, Sanria felt the tears welling up in her eyes. 'Pregnancy hormones,' she thought, but knew it was more than that. She, for the first time, was able to sit and dwell on what had been done to her. There were no distractions from her own mind and its recollections.
Before she had the chance to shed a tear, however, the sounds of music reached Sanria's ears. She held her breath as the sounds of voices were heard, harmonizing a refrain:
"I doth not want to live without thine love,
I doth not want to face the night alone,
I couldest not make it through mine life,
If I must hath make it on mine own..."
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.
Speaking to Shadows of Wolves
Sanria kissed Matinus on the head, the boy sitting on the couch with her so long, reading his heart out until he had fallen asleep. She slipped from his side, covering him with the light blanket that lay on the back of the sofa and quietly ascended the stairs. She found Kaliadra sitting up in Matinus' bed, looking out the window. "He's burying him," she said without turning around. Sanria walked in and looked out of the window, then sat on the edge of the bed.
"How are you, Kaliadra?"
The elven woman turned to look at Sanria, her face seeming worn and tired. "How are we, you mean?"
"I suppose that would be a good starting point."
"We can't die, Sanria."
"I feared that."
"I don't know how to get this spell off of me, and if I can not, we are in for a long road of eternal suffering. I am afraid all the sorcerers I knew are either dead or vanished beyond all reaching."
"Perhaps we don't have to suffer?"
Kaliadra smirked and Sanria looked down. "I felt it, you know? When you were down there with Colin. He recalls, does he not?"
"Yes," Sanria sighed quietly. "He does."
"What will you do?"
"I married Gilean, didn't I?"
"Yes. That you did. But you are not known for keeping yourself away from Colin in any reliable fashion."
"I'll have to. Gilean has been so hurt - first with Claire and that whole Ruthivan business, then with Velentham..."
Sanria stopped and stared at her lap. "Kaliadra, I'm pregnant with his child."
"I'm sorry."
"What do I do? Do I keep this in penance for all the young lives I have lost? Or do I get rid of it to keep myself from possibly hating a child?"
"You would not hate it, Sanria," Kaliadra said, giving a half smile.
"You have never managed to hate a child, even the ones that might be deserving of it."
"But what about Gilean?"
"Perhaps you should ask him his opinion?"
Sanria continued staring, her eyes leaving her lap and falling onto the carpeted floor. She let out a deep sigh. "Kaliadra, I'm sorry."
"For?"
"Everything. Driving you insane, making you feel all my pain."
"We cannot control what we feel, Sanria," Kaliadra sighed and looked back out the window. "We can only do the best we can do."
"Somehow I feel that I should be able to do better than what I have."
"Mmm. Perhaps. This may be your opportunity."
"What do you mean?"
"You have a boy who has adopted you as his mother, a husband who is sick with worry that you are going to leave him - "
Sanria looked up at Kaliadra. "What?"
"There are things I can feel that you cannot, and that man digging the hole is terrified that he has lost you to Colin already."
"He... is?"
"And, I should add," she said, turning her eyes onto Sanria, "Your daughter knew I was a wolf without my being a wolf."
"Nioma?"
"It seems she has some aptitude after all, what use it will be remains to be seen."
"How are you, Kaliadra?"
The elven woman turned to look at Sanria, her face seeming worn and tired. "How are we, you mean?"
"I suppose that would be a good starting point."
"We can't die, Sanria."
"I feared that."
"I don't know how to get this spell off of me, and if I can not, we are in for a long road of eternal suffering. I am afraid all the sorcerers I knew are either dead or vanished beyond all reaching."
"Perhaps we don't have to suffer?"
Kaliadra smirked and Sanria looked down. "I felt it, you know? When you were down there with Colin. He recalls, does he not?"
"Yes," Sanria sighed quietly. "He does."
"What will you do?"
"I married Gilean, didn't I?"
"Yes. That you did. But you are not known for keeping yourself away from Colin in any reliable fashion."
"I'll have to. Gilean has been so hurt - first with Claire and that whole Ruthivan business, then with Velentham..."
Sanria stopped and stared at her lap. "Kaliadra, I'm pregnant with his child."
"I'm sorry."
"What do I do? Do I keep this in penance for all the young lives I have lost? Or do I get rid of it to keep myself from possibly hating a child?"
"You would not hate it, Sanria," Kaliadra said, giving a half smile.
"You have never managed to hate a child, even the ones that might be deserving of it."
"But what about Gilean?"
"Perhaps you should ask him his opinion?"
Sanria continued staring, her eyes leaving her lap and falling onto the carpeted floor. She let out a deep sigh. "Kaliadra, I'm sorry."
"For?"
"Everything. Driving you insane, making you feel all my pain."
"We cannot control what we feel, Sanria," Kaliadra sighed and looked back out the window. "We can only do the best we can do."
"Somehow I feel that I should be able to do better than what I have."
"Mmm. Perhaps. This may be your opportunity."
"What do you mean?"
"You have a boy who has adopted you as his mother, a husband who is sick with worry that you are going to leave him - "
Sanria looked up at Kaliadra. "What?"
"There are things I can feel that you cannot, and that man digging the hole is terrified that he has lost you to Colin already."
"He... is?"
"And, I should add," she said, turning her eyes onto Sanria, "Your daughter knew I was a wolf without my being a wolf."
"Nioma?"
"It seems she has some aptitude after all, what use it will be remains to be seen."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)