The light was blinding when Emalia opened her eyes, and that said a lot considering the place she and Colin were. The walls were of a paneled wood that practically begged to sag to the floor in order to relieve itself of its obligation to the aesthetics long gone. It took a bit of effort for her to sit up in the bed, but oddly enough Emalia felt completely rested. "Where are we?" she asked. Colin in that span of time had rushed the distance from the small table to the bedside.
"I know Nephesh said you would be fully recovered but I was so worried. I brought you here. I wanted to make sure you weren't disturbed."
Emalia looked around the room slowly, taking in the rogue beams that stood sentinel behind the sagging panels. They seemed to be angrily standing apart from their weak counterparts, ready to be there for eternity. "Is this your house?" Emalia asked.
"Well, no, it's not exactly. It's a place I knew a long time ago." Colin hesitated only a moment before continuing. "It's an alternate plane.. well, I suppose a demiplane to be exact. The important thing is there's only one way in and nobody but I knows where that is."
Emalia didn't know exactly what to think of the news, and she slid from the bed - the muscles in her legs stiff from her sleep. "Oh, are you hungry, you must be starving. You haven't eaten in nine days."
"No... I..." (Nine days? How could that have...) Emalia looked down to her hand. Still nestled within her fingers was a small rose- colored obelisk.
"I'm fine."
"You can thank Nephesh for that," Colin said.
"It appears to be something he would do." Emalia fastened the obelisk around her neck and looked out the window. The entire scene outside was static. Stunted trees, cloud-covered skies - it was depressing and forboding and devoid of the small things that made life pleasant. Everything seemed to be drained of life somehow, or severely lacking it. "Well, we should be going I suppose."
"Are you sure you want to rush off? After all, you just got out of bed for the first time in over a week."
"Well, outside of being a little stiff - which walking will cure - I'm fine. Nephesh did a wonderful job, even if he didn't ask me if I wanted such a thing."
"I just don't know if it's a good idea."
Emalia turned to look at Colin, her head tilted and her lips pulled into a frown. "Colin, you know what we have to do... I'm not sure why you want to stay.. I mean, I'm fine and-"
"I guess it's just that after everything that happened earlier. And now I finally feel like I got you someplace safe... I'm just reluctant to give that up."
Emalia gave in for a moment, allowing Colin to walk her through the completely silent woods to a lake that looked forgotten by time and nature. The whole area was eerie to her, as though a calm before a storm that would never come. All she could think of was leaving and starting on their trip, but it seemed no matter what she said, Colin stalled. They turned to go back to the cabin after only a short amount of time.
"Emalia... are you sure you want to go back right away?"
"I have a mission to fulfill, Colin."
"I just can't help but feel that the moment we leave there are going to be those trying to step in once again and interfere."
"Well, you are right. They are going to, and constantly too. We're doing something to change the fate of the world, if they can alter it or aid in it, they will."
"I admire you Emalia. You are so brave and convicted in the face of this adversity. If anyone will be able to make a difference in anything I think it is you."
Emalia shuffled on with a shrug. "It's just what has to be done. Balance is what I seek."
Blessed Sleep
"Don't worry, I will get rid of them," Colin said with a growl. Emalia was left there upon the bed, staring up at the ceiling. She could hear the sound of a very angry small voice coming from outside of the cottage, but could not clearly make out anything. The worry tugged at her stomach but she was resigned to lay back and wait for Colin to return. It was the sound of small, but determined, footsteps that had her roll her eyes to the door, waiting to see who would enter.
Nephesh came toward the bed, his little face red obviously angry. He held out a note which Emalia had no opportunity to read before Colin spun the little halfling around by the shoulder. "Now listen here. Emalia has been through enough and you will NOT upset her again."
"What did the note say?" Emalia asked, attempting to reach the fallen note before realizing she couldn't. The small boy pushed the note toward her, and as Nephesh and Colin discussed what had happened (which was very one-sided from Emalia's ears, since Nephesh had appeared to have lost his ability for speech), she looked at the handwriting: 'What have you done to father?'
Emalia let her hand with the note drop onto the bed. She felt completely drained, and the daunting task of having to explain anything more plunged her into a deeper area of her soul. As she lay there, Colin had literally lifted Nephesh out of the room, but upon his return, Emalia once again reached into her own soul for the sake of another. She sent Colin off to speak to Nephesh and to offer him the pony. All of this was beginning to hurt each time, and she was having difficulty recovering from every encounter. Soon, the voice of Colin grew faint, the surroundings of the room began to vanish into a haze, and Emalia finally drifted off to sleep - hearing, seeing, and saying nothing more.
Nephesh came toward the bed, his little face red obviously angry. He held out a note which Emalia had no opportunity to read before Colin spun the little halfling around by the shoulder. "Now listen here. Emalia has been through enough and you will NOT upset her again."
"What did the note say?" Emalia asked, attempting to reach the fallen note before realizing she couldn't. The small boy pushed the note toward her, and as Nephesh and Colin discussed what had happened (which was very one-sided from Emalia's ears, since Nephesh had appeared to have lost his ability for speech), she looked at the handwriting: 'What have you done to father?'
Emalia let her hand with the note drop onto the bed. She felt completely drained, and the daunting task of having to explain anything more plunged her into a deeper area of her soul. As she lay there, Colin had literally lifted Nephesh out of the room, but upon his return, Emalia once again reached into her own soul for the sake of another. She sent Colin off to speak to Nephesh and to offer him the pony. All of this was beginning to hurt each time, and she was having difficulty recovering from every encounter. Soon, the voice of Colin grew faint, the surroundings of the room began to vanish into a haze, and Emalia finally drifted off to sleep - hearing, seeing, and saying nothing more.
Whining and Pining
Emalia slept only long enough to restore the most minimal of her energy. The very first thing she saw upon waking, was Colin. He laid by her side, his arm around her, staring down upon her with what she assumed was a mix of pity and worry. She couldn't really speak, and anytime she did her voice was simply quiet and subdued. She couldn't really move either. The whole scene was oddly reminiscent of the first time she and Colin were ever together, though this thought was far from her mind.
"I wish I could make them all just leave you alone," Colin said as he rubbed her arm.
"Me too," Emalia entoned quietly. "I don't think they will, though."
They continued talking, Emalia taking the time to explain to Colin just what she had felt when she "healed" Grobnak. She took time also to assure him that Brin was fine. So irritated at being weak, Emalia tried to rise but found herself unable to. "Emalia, please, just rest for now. Is there something you want?" Colin asked.
"I suppose not. I just hate being so weakened. I wish my father were about. He could perhaps heal me and all would be better."
"Do you know where he is?"
"Chasing my mother," Emalia muttered.
"Oh?"
"You weren't aware?" Emalia turned to look upon Colin.
"No. Should I have been?"
"Well, I thought I told you about it, but perhaps I hadn't. He went north shortly after the Vectorian invasion to help my mother," Emalia sighed in frustration. "He wouldn't even stay for me. And I asked him to."
"I see. I'm sorry. I suppose we aren't the only ones with a journey to make."
Emalia realized at that point just how many people Colin had not been introduced to. So many people in her family didn't know she was with him, or pregnant by him, and the realization made her feel guilty in an odd way. Colin, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind at all. His only thought was wishing no one was around, and that they could simply be left alone. No sooner had he made his thoughts known than a knock sounded upon the door.
"I wish I could make them all just leave you alone," Colin said as he rubbed her arm.
"Me too," Emalia entoned quietly. "I don't think they will, though."
They continued talking, Emalia taking the time to explain to Colin just what she had felt when she "healed" Grobnak. She took time also to assure him that Brin was fine. So irritated at being weak, Emalia tried to rise but found herself unable to. "Emalia, please, just rest for now. Is there something you want?" Colin asked.
"I suppose not. I just hate being so weakened. I wish my father were about. He could perhaps heal me and all would be better."
"Do you know where he is?"
"Chasing my mother," Emalia muttered.
"Oh?"
"You weren't aware?" Emalia turned to look upon Colin.
"No. Should I have been?"
"Well, I thought I told you about it, but perhaps I hadn't. He went north shortly after the Vectorian invasion to help my mother," Emalia sighed in frustration. "He wouldn't even stay for me. And I asked him to."
"I see. I'm sorry. I suppose we aren't the only ones with a journey to make."
Emalia realized at that point just how many people Colin had not been introduced to. So many people in her family didn't know she was with him, or pregnant by him, and the realization made her feel guilty in an odd way. Colin, on the other hand, didn't seem to mind at all. His only thought was wishing no one was around, and that they could simply be left alone. No sooner had he made his thoughts known than a knock sounded upon the door.
Dreams of Renewal (1-2)
His blood ran thick down his arm, his head swimming in anger and sadness at the assault Emalia had made on his honor. He did not lie - he told painful truths... and sometimes, just sometimes, he kept things from people in order to protect them.
He had cut his arm once for each truth he'd wished he'd not had to tell her. Once for each time, and as deeply for each truth as he felt that it had wounded Emalia. He knew that, in time, he would heal - just as Emalia would. He only hoped that it would not take too long - no one has forever.
Then it happened. She lunged forward, reaching for his arm, and latched her hand onto his flesh. The full force of the planet seemed to slam into him, then. Electrical current, the very life-stuff of the world, charged through his body like a flight of dragons. Through the haze of pain, his senses shifted, and he could see the Child, emanating a radiant white light of cascading hues, clutching his arm. Then everything went black.
The world began swimming around him. The darkness gradually faded into light, and light gradually faded into form. His Lord stood before him: The man who had pulled him from the Wall of the False and the Faithless, so long ago. The Apprentice.
Immediately, Grobnak fell to his knees, silence and fear and worship filling every fiber of his being as he gazed upon the hem of his Lord's robe. He dared not speak: he was not worthy. How was this even possible? Was he dead once more? Had Emalia killed him?
The Apprentice held a hand over Grobnak's head, indicating that he should rise. His Lord was much taller than him - rising nearly a full two feet above him. Grobnak surveyed his surroundings and knew that he was no longer in Faerun. The sky above was a scintillating bluish purple, the trees were a whitish yellow with softly blue leaves, and each step made a noise as the red moss that grew upon the ground absorbed his weight. He could see the waves in the wind, and he was certain that he was bearing witness to The Rebirth.
"When will my sleep end?" The Apprentice asked, the deep pits of his eyes looking to Grobnak questioningly, as he placed his hand on the daemon's shoulder and walked past him. Grobnak rose to his feet as his master began walking away - the sounds of the red moss tracing his steps - looking on without an answer. In a blur of color and dream, the moment faded and another one emerged in its stead...
It was later. Night had fallen and Grobnak found himself sitting on an ornate bench made from a stone he had never seen, a bowl of hot liquid in his hands. Surveying his surroundings, he watched as white flames licked the bottom of a kettle at the center of the building he was in. Again, he was reminded of the wonders that Rebirth would offer. The Apprentice was sitting calmly beside a small stack of tree bark, performing an activity that appeared to be curing the material, as if it were animal skin, only now The Apprentice wasn't the same. It was Halethiel - the founder of all Faithful - he was speaking to, and it was The Apprentice, both at once in his foggy mind.
"It is her destiny, Lord Usurper," he whispered, his voice barely recognizable even to himself, as he told the tale of how Emalia had killed him, her pregnancy, and her quest to find the Temple of Light. What did it matter, he told himself, if he was dead any way? Halethiel had been dead for many hundreds of years - at least this time, he told himself, he was not rotting on the Wall of the False and the Faithless. Then, in another blur of color and dream, the moment faded once again, yet another moment in time emerging to replace this one...
He saw an image of a child, playing with his Lord, happily. There was something both dark and light about the girl as she giggled, The Apprentice tossing her about in his arms - a grim smile on his disease-ravaged face. Grobnak could see Halethiel's wrists as he laid on the hill, the red moss about the ground whispering to him in a thousand voices of comfort and renewal as it enclosed him in a warm embrace, and he began to feel contentment for what felt like the first time in his life.
Then he awakened, gasping for breath, greeted by others of the Faithful around him, and the full assault of reality began its assault once again on his tired mind. They needed the Swords still, and to find the Temple. For the sake of the Great Realms, he only hoped they would not be too late.
He had cut his arm once for each truth he'd wished he'd not had to tell her. Once for each time, and as deeply for each truth as he felt that it had wounded Emalia. He knew that, in time, he would heal - just as Emalia would. He only hoped that it would not take too long - no one has forever.
Then it happened. She lunged forward, reaching for his arm, and latched her hand onto his flesh. The full force of the planet seemed to slam into him, then. Electrical current, the very life-stuff of the world, charged through his body like a flight of dragons. Through the haze of pain, his senses shifted, and he could see the Child, emanating a radiant white light of cascading hues, clutching his arm. Then everything went black.
The world began swimming around him. The darkness gradually faded into light, and light gradually faded into form. His Lord stood before him: The man who had pulled him from the Wall of the False and the Faithless, so long ago. The Apprentice.
Immediately, Grobnak fell to his knees, silence and fear and worship filling every fiber of his being as he gazed upon the hem of his Lord's robe. He dared not speak: he was not worthy. How was this even possible? Was he dead once more? Had Emalia killed him?
The Apprentice held a hand over Grobnak's head, indicating that he should rise. His Lord was much taller than him - rising nearly a full two feet above him. Grobnak surveyed his surroundings and knew that he was no longer in Faerun. The sky above was a scintillating bluish purple, the trees were a whitish yellow with softly blue leaves, and each step made a noise as the red moss that grew upon the ground absorbed his weight. He could see the waves in the wind, and he was certain that he was bearing witness to The Rebirth.
"When will my sleep end?" The Apprentice asked, the deep pits of his eyes looking to Grobnak questioningly, as he placed his hand on the daemon's shoulder and walked past him. Grobnak rose to his feet as his master began walking away - the sounds of the red moss tracing his steps - looking on without an answer. In a blur of color and dream, the moment faded and another one emerged in its stead...
It was later. Night had fallen and Grobnak found himself sitting on an ornate bench made from a stone he had never seen, a bowl of hot liquid in his hands. Surveying his surroundings, he watched as white flames licked the bottom of a kettle at the center of the building he was in. Again, he was reminded of the wonders that Rebirth would offer. The Apprentice was sitting calmly beside a small stack of tree bark, performing an activity that appeared to be curing the material, as if it were animal skin, only now The Apprentice wasn't the same. It was Halethiel - the founder of all Faithful - he was speaking to, and it was The Apprentice, both at once in his foggy mind.
"It is her destiny, Lord Usurper," he whispered, his voice barely recognizable even to himself, as he told the tale of how Emalia had killed him, her pregnancy, and her quest to find the Temple of Light. What did it matter, he told himself, if he was dead any way? Halethiel had been dead for many hundreds of years - at least this time, he told himself, he was not rotting on the Wall of the False and the Faithless. Then, in another blur of color and dream, the moment faded once again, yet another moment in time emerging to replace this one...
He saw an image of a child, playing with his Lord, happily. There was something both dark and light about the girl as she giggled, The Apprentice tossing her about in his arms - a grim smile on his disease-ravaged face. Grobnak could see Halethiel's wrists as he laid on the hill, the red moss about the ground whispering to him in a thousand voices of comfort and renewal as it enclosed him in a warm embrace, and he began to feel contentment for what felt like the first time in his life.
Then he awakened, gasping for breath, greeted by others of the Faithful around him, and the full assault of reality began its assault once again on his tired mind. They needed the Swords still, and to find the Temple. For the sake of the Great Realms, he only hoped they would not be too late.
Into The Rift (2 of 2)
Colin's breath escaped him in a little sigh tinged with pleasure. How long it had been since he had felt that gentle squeeze all over his body as he passed into the rift. An almost sexual penetration.
He could feel Emalia still in his arms, yet now they were suspended, motionless, in the void of almost total darkness which was the axis of this place. The familiar buzzing assaulted his ears and he knew if he concentrated on it he would be able to make out the myriad of unnatural sounds of which it was composed yet he willed himself not to. He did, however, find himself gazing at the scenes of various locations which shifted into view around him. Almost every one of them contained acts of violence, torture, or depravety yet for a ong moment Colin found himself unable to look away, a half smile finding it's way onto his lips. There he stayed until a scene of a human mother screaming as she cut a demonic baby from her own womb faded into view, shaking Colin from his stupor.
Emalia. Brin. He knew where he needed to go. He closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind for that spot of familiarity which he quickly found. By simply willing himself toward it he felt the squeeze once more as he stepped onto rocky soil. Colin pushed his way through some thick brush which grew around the rift they has just exited and took in the forest about him. The sun peeked dimly through the cloudy sky overhead to shine on the stunted trees and scrubby bushes below. It wasn't a scene of beauty but it was about as close as it was going to get in this place.
He looked around for a moment, noting how little the vegetation grew here. It made it easy for him to get his bearings. If his memory was correct the cabin where they would be staying was only about 100 yards east of here. Colin leaned down to kiss Emalia's forehead and held her a bit closer to him. "Don't worry, we're almost there."
He could feel Emalia still in his arms, yet now they were suspended, motionless, in the void of almost total darkness which was the axis of this place. The familiar buzzing assaulted his ears and he knew if he concentrated on it he would be able to make out the myriad of unnatural sounds of which it was composed yet he willed himself not to. He did, however, find himself gazing at the scenes of various locations which shifted into view around him. Almost every one of them contained acts of violence, torture, or depravety yet for a ong moment Colin found himself unable to look away, a half smile finding it's way onto his lips. There he stayed until a scene of a human mother screaming as she cut a demonic baby from her own womb faded into view, shaking Colin from his stupor.
Emalia. Brin. He knew where he needed to go. He closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind for that spot of familiarity which he quickly found. By simply willing himself toward it he felt the squeeze once more as he stepped onto rocky soil. Colin pushed his way through some thick brush which grew around the rift they has just exited and took in the forest about him. The sun peeked dimly through the cloudy sky overhead to shine on the stunted trees and scrubby bushes below. It wasn't a scene of beauty but it was about as close as it was going to get in this place.
He looked around for a moment, noting how little the vegetation grew here. It made it easy for him to get his bearings. If his memory was correct the cabin where they would be staying was only about 100 yards east of here. Colin leaned down to kiss Emalia's forehead and held her a bit closer to him. "Don't worry, we're almost there."
Pressure
Colin was in disbelief of what Emalia was being put through as he carried her unconsious body up to her bedroom. For how much everyone kept saying that they were talking to her for her own good the toll it was taking on her, and now their unborn child, was very disturbing.
Colin lay Emalia on her bed and stood over her, bowing his head in dismay. Today, once more, Emalia had been pushed to the limit, and beyond. First the unexpected visit from Jessiah, and then immediately afterward, Grobnak. A realization popped into his mind, "That stubborn idiot is still laying out there, helpless."
He took another moment to look at Emalia, noting her steady breathing, before leaving the bedroom and heading back outside to the collapsed Grobnak. He stepped over the threshold to stand over the fallen creature, glaring down upon his hideous form. "What is wrong with you?" Colin spoke aloud to the motionless figure. How could he not see the harm he was doing to Emalia through his insistence in talking to her about these things. "...so blind."
A new thought occured to him now, "Look at him, so helpless. You could put an end to his torment of Emalia... make it so this never happened again." He pondered that idea for a moment. There was a refreshing justice and finality in that thought and Colin was mildly suprised when he realized that he had retrieved his sword from where he had dropped it upon the ground and was now standing over Grobnak with the weapon gripped tightly in his hand. As Colin stood there his thoughts urged him on further, "It's basically his fault she's laying up there right now." Yet that wasn't completely true, was it?
Colin spoke a warning aloud to the unconscious figure, "If you have hurt her..."Or Brin."...or my child..." Colin left the threat hanging. That was right. Brin. Emalia had said there was something wrong with the baby. "Why give him the chance to even recover? It would be so easy. Noone would even see."
"But Emalia...", Colin found himself speaking aloud, "I couldn't." "But she would thank you for silencing just one of the people responsible for the state she's in. He could never betray her again." Colin found himself wanting to believe this but deep down he knew it was wrong. Emalia would never condone a cold- blooded murder like that. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. "No.", Colin spoke, "I can't."
However, his thoughts would not be deterred. "You can, you just won't. And you call yourself a guardian. A threat lays right here at your feet yet you will not stamp it out!"
Colin pressed his fists to his temples, trying to physically shut out these thoughts which he knew were wrong. "I said no!", he found himself shouting, "Go away!"
Colin stood there, his jaw clenched, heavy breaths coming in hisses through his bared teeth as he fought to control his own mind. Finally, it seemed, the thoughts had ceased. What was happening to him? He was talking to himself, even arguing with himself! Colin took a deep breath and sheathed his sword. Perhaps Emalia wasn't the only one feeling the effects of all this stress. He could probably use some rest as well, but first, there was something he had promised to do.
Colin bent down and easily lifted the unconscious Grobnak off the ground, throwing him over his shoulder like a black-winged sack of potatoes. He set off at a brisk pace toward the Jihad compound, eager to drop his cargo upon their doorstep and return to rest with Emalia.
Colin lay Emalia on her bed and stood over her, bowing his head in dismay. Today, once more, Emalia had been pushed to the limit, and beyond. First the unexpected visit from Jessiah, and then immediately afterward, Grobnak. A realization popped into his mind, "That stubborn idiot is still laying out there, helpless."
He took another moment to look at Emalia, noting her steady breathing, before leaving the bedroom and heading back outside to the collapsed Grobnak. He stepped over the threshold to stand over the fallen creature, glaring down upon his hideous form. "What is wrong with you?" Colin spoke aloud to the motionless figure. How could he not see the harm he was doing to Emalia through his insistence in talking to her about these things. "...so blind."
A new thought occured to him now, "Look at him, so helpless. You could put an end to his torment of Emalia... make it so this never happened again." He pondered that idea for a moment. There was a refreshing justice and finality in that thought and Colin was mildly suprised when he realized that he had retrieved his sword from where he had dropped it upon the ground and was now standing over Grobnak with the weapon gripped tightly in his hand. As Colin stood there his thoughts urged him on further, "It's basically his fault she's laying up there right now." Yet that wasn't completely true, was it?
Colin spoke a warning aloud to the unconscious figure, "If you have hurt her..."Or Brin."...or my child..." Colin left the threat hanging. That was right. Brin. Emalia had said there was something wrong with the baby. "Why give him the chance to even recover? It would be so easy. Noone would even see."
"But Emalia...", Colin found himself speaking aloud, "I couldn't." "But she would thank you for silencing just one of the people responsible for the state she's in. He could never betray her again." Colin found himself wanting to believe this but deep down he knew it was wrong. Emalia would never condone a cold- blooded murder like that. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the thought. "No.", Colin spoke, "I can't."
However, his thoughts would not be deterred. "You can, you just won't. And you call yourself a guardian. A threat lays right here at your feet yet you will not stamp it out!"
Colin pressed his fists to his temples, trying to physically shut out these thoughts which he knew were wrong. "I said no!", he found himself shouting, "Go away!"
Colin stood there, his jaw clenched, heavy breaths coming in hisses through his bared teeth as he fought to control his own mind. Finally, it seemed, the thoughts had ceased. What was happening to him? He was talking to himself, even arguing with himself! Colin took a deep breath and sheathed his sword. Perhaps Emalia wasn't the only one feeling the effects of all this stress. He could probably use some rest as well, but first, there was something he had promised to do.
Colin bent down and easily lifted the unconscious Grobnak off the ground, throwing him over his shoulder like a black-winged sack of potatoes. He set off at a brisk pace toward the Jihad compound, eager to drop his cargo upon their doorstep and return to rest with Emalia.
On The Road Again... (Part I-II)
"Full honesty is a fool's trait...and what a fool I've been. I should not been so open with her..."
Throm walked swiftly down the open corridor of his home, shaking his head. A sudden flutter of wind caused his cloak to billow out, caught in the wind's grasp. He stoppedhard at the sound of a voice speaking out quietly. "I don't believe I've yet to see you this worked up..."
Turning just his head, Throm couldn't see the speaker though knew at once, whose person the voice belonged to. Throm called out over his shoulder still not moving from where he stood. "I had not not expected a welcome home party..."
Slipping down from upon the ledge he had been sitting upon, Lithanus appeared from behind a support column, leaning a tattooed arm upon it. "Troubles with the lady friend father?"
Scowling, Throm finally turned around, crossing his arms over his chest. At first he considered telling Lithanus nothing of recent events save the taking back of the stolen cells up north. Then sighing he gave a small shrug. "Lady friend no more I'm afraid. We've parted ways...I'm afraid I decided to impart some of the truth upon her, maybe too much I'm afraid."
Lithanus' spiked hair of stark white color ruffled as he shook his head. "The truth will serve no purpose outside of our own kind father, we have been raised this way...we know this."
Looking upon the young man with eyes that revealed just a hint of sadness, this time it was Throm who shook his head."No Lithanus, YOU have been raised this way...and for that I am sorry. I am too far removed from our people to believe this now. And speaking of our people, I suppose they will wish for my retrieval to the Valley soon?"
A ghost of a smile played upon the younger man's face displaying subtly that he had not missed the obvious change of topic within their conversation. "The Council has determined that for the moment your...removal would raise questions. Questions that aren't worth answering. I think that if the cells were returned, then you might...for the moment have little to worry about as far as that is concerned."
Reaching into his cloak, Throm pulled out a large canister and tossed it to Lithanus who caught it and held it up to the light, examining it carefully with an expression akin to awe.
"So much trouble for a few drops of the Old Foe. It is rare that I have a chance to see any of the legacy artifacts this close."
Lithanus suddenly cast his glance downwards from the canister, looking at Throm with an annoyed expression. "And what is it you're still doing here? Why aren't you following her up north yet?"
Throm unfolded his arms from across his chest, a look of annoyance casting itself over his own features. The sudden conversation had caught him off guard, however he remembered now the company Sanria had travelled north with. He remembered the person responsible for such company. "Let's talk about our friend and the armor you paired him with."
A look of mock surprise lit Lithanus' face as he spoke in in equal tones of exaggeration. "You're not seriously considering letting her go up there alone with him on the loose are you?"
Now Throm had to stem the feelings of annoyance as they were very swiftly becoming that of full fledged anger. "Thanks to you I may well have to. However she's not alone, Thasmudyan is currently joined with your loose cannon."
Lithanus smirked slightly and shrugged though he took a step back at sight of the look in his father's eyes. "So that's two people you are leaving to the Armor of Escalore...I guess you are more trusting than I am."
His face growing as cold and featureless as stone, Throm glared at his son as he let what seemed like ages of silence pass between the two. Finally, he pointed his finger directly at his white haired antagonizer, breaking the silence. "I'll not be played a fool Lithanus. I'll deal with you when I get back."
Carefully concealing the fact that some part of him was glad to have a reason to go north after her, Throm dissolved into nothingness, his spell casting him back to Torregiano. Lithanus' words fell upon deaf ears. "You'll thank me later old man..." He chuckled to himself, brushing back a wild strand of his hair. "...and might even admit that I know what the hell I'm doing."
"Throm... wh... what are you doing here?"
The fact that he had startled Sanria coupled with the red which shown upon her face, made Throm nearly regret coming. He had upset her further, something he certainly had not wished to do. Suddenly his mind kicked into notions which he usually left unthought. -Who cares. I too am upset- Pushing such thoughts aside, he gave an emotionless nod. "Going north..."
Sanria looked to the ground shaking her head. As if a knife had been taken to his insides, Throm felt a dull hollow sting in his chest. Steeling his resolve, he replied without missing a beat. "Someone has to bring Remus in..."
The rest of his words were cut short as an airship flew low over the Port on it's way to dock. Again his cold response was met with an equally cold demeanor. "I'll bring him back here and you can take him."
Shaking his head solidly, he couldn't help but wonder why it was she was so eager for him not to be around. "No dice..."
The two danced around the subject for long minutes, each firing back reasons why the other should or shouldn't be present for the duration of the journey. The argument continued inside of Sanria's airship, neither side seeming to get through to the other.
Eventually it was brought to light that Sanria indeed as able to feel the very emotions of Thasmudyan as she had recently been healed with his life essence. The thought of the two of them in the same place while she could feel such things apparently wasn't very comfortable for her. Again thoughts rampaged through Throm's head.
-I can't blame her. I wouldn't take comfort in such a situation. In fact, I probably wouldn't have even let me on board the ship.-
He had to admire her honesty, and her determination at that. Yet the two found themselves once again plunged into arguments. Finally it seemed they had both tired of going back and forth. The conversation took tones of less aggressive nature. Once again Throm felt himself compelled to honesty as Sanria asked the inevitable question that he knew must come.
"Let me guess... you love me enough to let me walk right out of your life?" She smiled slighty, and Throm suddenly realized just how difficult a question it was to answer. -It used to be an easy answer...when did it become not-
"If you deemed it best for yourself yes...I would put you above my own wants." Judging by the expression on Sanria's face, Throm realized that this was not the answer she had been expecting.
"You realize that it leaves me thinking you want for nothing... including me?" She stood, walking nearer to him. Was she angry? He couldn't tell. He shook his head as she continued. "I'd love to think, for a moment, that you would trust me enough to show me your own feelings - not those you use to deflect what is beneath."
For a moment, frustration set upon Throm and he wanted to simply spell out what it was he meant, be it for better or worse. Calming himself, he found his words once again. "You are wrong in this sense Sanria. I want many things...including you. However I can't place my wants above those or yours...such would be the essence of selfishness."
Again, he realized that perhaps this was not the answer Sanria had been looking for as she crossed her arms across her chest. Looking at him she spoke quietly. "Then I am selfish?"
Again Throm shook his head. "No...it's just me being me. I think you coined it the protector in me."
The Sanria finally guided the ship out of Port Torregiano, setting to a hover just above the city beacon. She turned in her seat to face Throm. "You don't believe that simply gathering force here to take him down is a better plan?"
Shrugging, he realized he was tired of the charade, perhaps the vision of him wearing himself on his sleeve would never be realistic, but it occured to him that perhaps he hadn't been completely in the right in regards to thinking honesty was foolish at all times.
"I'm not leaving you. Not because I don't think you can take care of yourself, but because I'll be worried to no end while you are away." Shrugging, he strapped the in flight harness about his torso. "And that....is why I am here."
Throm walked swiftly down the open corridor of his home, shaking his head. A sudden flutter of wind caused his cloak to billow out, caught in the wind's grasp. He stoppedhard at the sound of a voice speaking out quietly. "I don't believe I've yet to see you this worked up..."
Turning just his head, Throm couldn't see the speaker though knew at once, whose person the voice belonged to. Throm called out over his shoulder still not moving from where he stood. "I had not not expected a welcome home party..."
Slipping down from upon the ledge he had been sitting upon, Lithanus appeared from behind a support column, leaning a tattooed arm upon it. "Troubles with the lady friend father?"
Scowling, Throm finally turned around, crossing his arms over his chest. At first he considered telling Lithanus nothing of recent events save the taking back of the stolen cells up north. Then sighing he gave a small shrug. "Lady friend no more I'm afraid. We've parted ways...I'm afraid I decided to impart some of the truth upon her, maybe too much I'm afraid."
Lithanus' spiked hair of stark white color ruffled as he shook his head. "The truth will serve no purpose outside of our own kind father, we have been raised this way...we know this."
Looking upon the young man with eyes that revealed just a hint of sadness, this time it was Throm who shook his head."No Lithanus, YOU have been raised this way...and for that I am sorry. I am too far removed from our people to believe this now. And speaking of our people, I suppose they will wish for my retrieval to the Valley soon?"
A ghost of a smile played upon the younger man's face displaying subtly that he had not missed the obvious change of topic within their conversation. "The Council has determined that for the moment your...removal would raise questions. Questions that aren't worth answering. I think that if the cells were returned, then you might...for the moment have little to worry about as far as that is concerned."
Reaching into his cloak, Throm pulled out a large canister and tossed it to Lithanus who caught it and held it up to the light, examining it carefully with an expression akin to awe.
"So much trouble for a few drops of the Old Foe. It is rare that I have a chance to see any of the legacy artifacts this close."
Lithanus suddenly cast his glance downwards from the canister, looking at Throm with an annoyed expression. "And what is it you're still doing here? Why aren't you following her up north yet?"
Throm unfolded his arms from across his chest, a look of annoyance casting itself over his own features. The sudden conversation had caught him off guard, however he remembered now the company Sanria had travelled north with. He remembered the person responsible for such company. "Let's talk about our friend and the armor you paired him with."
A look of mock surprise lit Lithanus' face as he spoke in in equal tones of exaggeration. "You're not seriously considering letting her go up there alone with him on the loose are you?"
Now Throm had to stem the feelings of annoyance as they were very swiftly becoming that of full fledged anger. "Thanks to you I may well have to. However she's not alone, Thasmudyan is currently joined with your loose cannon."
Lithanus smirked slightly and shrugged though he took a step back at sight of the look in his father's eyes. "So that's two people you are leaving to the Armor of Escalore...I guess you are more trusting than I am."
His face growing as cold and featureless as stone, Throm glared at his son as he let what seemed like ages of silence pass between the two. Finally, he pointed his finger directly at his white haired antagonizer, breaking the silence. "I'll not be played a fool Lithanus. I'll deal with you when I get back."
Carefully concealing the fact that some part of him was glad to have a reason to go north after her, Throm dissolved into nothingness, his spell casting him back to Torregiano. Lithanus' words fell upon deaf ears. "You'll thank me later old man..." He chuckled to himself, brushing back a wild strand of his hair. "...and might even admit that I know what the hell I'm doing."
"Throm... wh... what are you doing here?"
The fact that he had startled Sanria coupled with the red which shown upon her face, made Throm nearly regret coming. He had upset her further, something he certainly had not wished to do. Suddenly his mind kicked into notions which he usually left unthought. -Who cares. I too am upset- Pushing such thoughts aside, he gave an emotionless nod. "Going north..."
Sanria looked to the ground shaking her head. As if a knife had been taken to his insides, Throm felt a dull hollow sting in his chest. Steeling his resolve, he replied without missing a beat. "Someone has to bring Remus in..."
The rest of his words were cut short as an airship flew low over the Port on it's way to dock. Again his cold response was met with an equally cold demeanor. "I'll bring him back here and you can take him."
Shaking his head solidly, he couldn't help but wonder why it was she was so eager for him not to be around. "No dice..."
The two danced around the subject for long minutes, each firing back reasons why the other should or shouldn't be present for the duration of the journey. The argument continued inside of Sanria's airship, neither side seeming to get through to the other.
Eventually it was brought to light that Sanria indeed as able to feel the very emotions of Thasmudyan as she had recently been healed with his life essence. The thought of the two of them in the same place while she could feel such things apparently wasn't very comfortable for her. Again thoughts rampaged through Throm's head.
-I can't blame her. I wouldn't take comfort in such a situation. In fact, I probably wouldn't have even let me on board the ship.-
He had to admire her honesty, and her determination at that. Yet the two found themselves once again plunged into arguments. Finally it seemed they had both tired of going back and forth. The conversation took tones of less aggressive nature. Once again Throm felt himself compelled to honesty as Sanria asked the inevitable question that he knew must come.
"Let me guess... you love me enough to let me walk right out of your life?" She smiled slighty, and Throm suddenly realized just how difficult a question it was to answer. -It used to be an easy answer...when did it become not-
"If you deemed it best for yourself yes...I would put you above my own wants." Judging by the expression on Sanria's face, Throm realized that this was not the answer she had been expecting.
"You realize that it leaves me thinking you want for nothing... including me?" She stood, walking nearer to him. Was she angry? He couldn't tell. He shook his head as she continued. "I'd love to think, for a moment, that you would trust me enough to show me your own feelings - not those you use to deflect what is beneath."
For a moment, frustration set upon Throm and he wanted to simply spell out what it was he meant, be it for better or worse. Calming himself, he found his words once again. "You are wrong in this sense Sanria. I want many things...including you. However I can't place my wants above those or yours...such would be the essence of selfishness."
Again, he realized that perhaps this was not the answer Sanria had been looking for as she crossed her arms across her chest. Looking at him she spoke quietly. "Then I am selfish?"
Again Throm shook his head. "No...it's just me being me. I think you coined it the protector in me."
The Sanria finally guided the ship out of Port Torregiano, setting to a hover just above the city beacon. She turned in her seat to face Throm. "You don't believe that simply gathering force here to take him down is a better plan?"
Shrugging, he realized he was tired of the charade, perhaps the vision of him wearing himself on his sleeve would never be realistic, but it occured to him that perhaps he hadn't been completely in the right in regards to thinking honesty was foolish at all times.
"I'm not leaving you. Not because I don't think you can take care of yourself, but because I'll be worried to no end while you are away." Shrugging, he strapped the in flight harness about his torso. "And that....is why I am here."
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