Shadows - Shayde Mel'for

[Domina]

*In a Hidden Sanctuary of the Champions...*

*Cel looks on the waking Shayde with wide eyes, slightly reddened from tears. Shayde can see two people in this room. Celestia and a much shorter woman with a flower in her hair at the door. The occasional squad of armored ladies walking by with clacking armor. A whisper from Cel...*

"Shayde...a...are you okay? You f-f-fell." some shaking in her sincere voice.

*She doesn't touch Shayde, but she looks her over and her hands waver near by. Cel looks in Shayde's eyes to some surprise, the odd Silver made her wonder. Maybe she had some sort of head damage, but this shade is unnatural even for trauma patients. She didn't know what it was yet, nor could she think with much reason, but she was not about to flurry Shayde with questions. Cel nods to Sarah and the door is closed for a moment.*

"S...Shayde?"

[rohenna]

Her silver eyes fell on Celestia, and she smiled softly, an edge of wonder in her voice. “Ahh...the light..it was you.”

Noting Celestia’s expression, her reddened eyes, and then her surroundings, she frowned, puzzled. “What is it? What’s happened? Fell...?”

She tried to sit up. Her head spun. "Where am I?"

The wild thing inside her shifted a little. Her frown deepened.

“I want to go home to my room at the Ravenscrest.”

[Domina]

*Cel wasn't surprised the fall had shuffled some of her short term memories but with some quiver in her own voice, she gave her friend the answers she more than deserved. She gave a smile to try and relieve Shayde's frown.*

"Sweetheart...you fell off the edge of Ravenwatch's grand walls. I found you when you...hit. I took you to a hideout of the organization i've been working with for the past year, The Champions of Light. I'll be more than happy to take you home if that is what you like. Do you have the ability to walk yet? Your legs were slightly slammed and took a while to heal, so you may need to go slow."

*The door opens and two figures walk in. One a woman in clerical robes and one a man in full plate. Shayde would be able to recognize one as a cleric and one as a physical fighter. They close the door behind them*

"Do...you want to go back now? Or do you have more questions?"

[rohenna]

Again the wild thing within stirred. She nodded to Celestia, pushing herself upright, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Home. We need to be home, the wild thing sang to her. Surrounded by the scents and the colours and the textures of home. You will walk.

She shakily rose to her feet, determination on her face, and held out her hand to Celestia.

“Thank you Celestia, and all of you, for taking care of me. No more questions. I need to go home now.” She glanced at the two newcomers. “Are they going to show me to the door?”

We have to get out, the wild thing whispered. Be free. The questions will be answered when you see where you tried to fly.

A sudden wave of urgency washed through her body, and she looked back to Celestia.

“You must take me to the wall, where you found me. I need to see it first. I think it might help me understand.” The wild thing urged her forward, painful step after painful step, but she showed no sign of it on her face, her chin held aloft and her eyes glinting.

At the bottom of the wall, the place she was shown, she asked to be left alone. Once the others had disappeared from view, she dared to look up. Clouds moved quickly overhead; she was struck by a surreal sense of movement, dizzying her a little.

The last night she remembered returned to her in disjointed fragments. Jard, Melanie, Darion, Karis...Karis...She closed her eyes a moment, frowning. She had talked to Karis, so much more than she ever intended, but she remembered being unable to stop, and then the smashing of each empty ale bottle, as if the physical act could remedy the pain she felt. She was hurt...Shayde rested her hand on her chest, gazing down at the ground, pondering. Then Karis had said something about the gods... “Imagine if you had many children, but you were not allowed to see them or touch them.” Shayde remembered a poignant, sharp pain at those words; something akin to grief.

“I touched the moon...” She murmured wonderingly. She made her way slowly back to the Inn.

The climb up the stairs to the little Inn room was taxing, and by the time she had reached her door, she was dizzy, nauseated and weak. She slid inside the room, undressing quickly and slipping into bed, lighting the candle beside her bed.

The flame danced and split. The wild thing watched through Shayde’s new eyes.

Now we are home, it murmured. We can make plans.

[Domina]

*Cel was confused by the sudden curiosity of Shayde, but if she was on to something she would not get in the way. The two agents flashed a bright light in her face and they appear back in Ravenwatch in what felt like a few seconds. She follows Shayde to the spot and blinks as she speaks on "Touching The Moon" *

Now it was time to see what was truly affected...and these plans.

[rohenna]

The forest beyond her family farm was luminous with the soft bluish light of the moon. Shayde walked slowly at times, a slight limp becoming more exaggerated when the ground was uneven. Healings had helped somewhat; she was out of pain now most days unless she had had an excessively heavy training session that morning. Each day she rose before dawn, stretching until her muscles stopped protesting, then moved lithely through her training dance, dark hair tied loosely off her face, garbed in loose pants and a tunic, her feet bare. Often she trained for hours, struggling to find her old agility and strength. Many times she fought back tears of frustration. Afterwards she would walk to the village to the old Priestess who would pray for healing with her, impart a blessing, and talk with her for some time afterwards about her fall, and what had happened since.

Onward she walked, the night time calls of forest creatures as familiar as old friends. Her mind wandered. The strange wild thing within had become, while not silent...assimilated. Its voice and hers seemed to have bonded, and she found that it posed no danger, did not possess her; it appeared to become part of her, a wild force she could tap into readily. She could draw on it for mental strength, or courage, or endurance. After many talks with the Priestess, she concluded that it was a fracture of the mind that been shaken free by the fall, a part of her wild self that she had exhibited as a child, driven into a deep, hidden place as she fought to survive the abuse of her early marriage.

A movement to one side startled her; oddly there was no sound to accompany it. She crouched, dagger in hand, ready to spring, her ears pricked and her silver eyes roaming the trees around her. Again a movement between two trees, up about head height. She tilted her head. A pair of round golden eyes gazed at her from an even rounder brown face; an owl. She tucked the dagger back into her belt slowly, so as not to startle. They regarded each other in silence for some time, then it alighted, landing on a branch a few feet from Shayde’s head. She turned to meet its gaze. The moonlight caught its eyes; the pupils reflecting back at Shayde suddenly appearing silver. She smiled. The owl hooted at her twice, then flew off in the direction of the moon.

Laughing softly, she turned, knelt to the ground and bowed her head, murmuring a quiet prayer to Nuarari’s large, white eye. Comprehension settled over her like a blanket. She knew what she had to do next.

She eyed the large sprawling oak that was her first real conquest as a girl in silence, her stomach tight. With first one tentative hand, then the other, she grasped the rough, low branch above her head, took a deep breath and found a foothold with her soft leather boot. Suddenly she was off the ground. Fear rose in her throat; she closed her eyes, summoning the wild part of herself. Then a smile, and an exhalation, and she swung herself up and onto the branch. Higher and higher she climbed, until she reached the point that she had always stopped as a fourteen year old girl. Her injured hip ached but her blood sang. She could still climb.

[rohenna]

A lithe figure is seen moving about Cear, mostly at night, a hood pulled low over its face, the merest hint of a limp apparent to those with a keen eye. Even with the bulk of a ground length cloak dragging gently on the cobblestones it becomes clear that the figure is female, though her face is never revealed.

Later, as the moon rises, were one to gaze at the roof line, one might see the same figure crouched on a rooftop, sitting quiet and still as a statue, her eyes fixed to the moon. If one were exceptionally observant, one would notice her creamy skin, her silver eyes, and pointed ears protruding from beneath coal-black hair. An owl might at times be noticed perched in the vicinity of her silhouette.

Meanwhile, down near the Docks, a small cottage remains dark and closed as it has been for a few weeks now.

[rohenna]

She came away transformed. Something had shifted deep within her. What a miracle. A perfect, soft cheeked, milk-scented miracle. She had approached the temple with trepidation, even the baby...she could not look at it for a while. Backed away from the small bundle; its soft sounds and its presence...oh the strength of her awareness of it...

Then Reina had placed the little girl in her arms, and she’d been swept away in a wave of love so strong she couldn’t breathe for a few seconds. Her heart had broken open, and she was powerless against the tide.

She’d whispered to the babe, the back of her finger gently stroking the soft warm skin of her little round cheek. "Arina Jae...you need never fear. You'll have love and protection from me as long as you live, sweet girl. I'm here for you, always..."

It wasn’t that anything had really changed...but everything had changed.

So hours later, when he leaned over her and whispered in her ear after the dance...her raw, open heart just spilled out, bled. She couldn't stop it; she didn't want to. She sat and wept in Reina's arms.

Everything had changed.

[rohenna]

“You wish me to be perfect. I am not.” She lay back on the roof of the Vissen Tavern against a warm chimney pot, listening to the waves crash against the shore.

She thought of the look in Darion’s eyes when he told her he could no longer trust her. It lingered long, even later, after he'd told her that he understood.

It had been like someone banged a drum beside her ear, that realisation that it was the truth: she could not be trusted. She’d returned Sam's kiss without a moment’s hesitation. As natural a response as exhaling after a breath.

Her whole being had felt shattered and broken into a thousand fragments for days now. She needed to understand this; couldn’t put herself together until the shattering made sense. There was such confusion in her mind...her body ached from it, as if her limbs were not fitted correctly.

The sounds of a drunken brawl below assaulted her ears. She winced, pulling away as if that would hold back the sound, and then reached for a heavy roof tile, pitching it in the direction of the brawlers. It smashed; there was a round of cursing, then they dispersed. Sitting back heavily against the chimney pot, she sighed. The owl that so often followed her at nights now landed silently a few feet away and gazed at her, its large yellow eyes implying a wisdom she did not feel she possessed.

She’d told the truth as far as she understood it, and that was the best she could do, right now.

The wild thing inside her rose and danced among her broken pieces, plucked at her heart, and called her a fool. It spoke of truths and dreams and fears. It called her coward. It told her, mockingly, that until she learned to dance her real dance, she would continue to cause chaos and pain. That she knew, deep down, the absolute truth of her soul. That she always had.

She knew if she grew quiet enough, she might hear it, if she dared.

[rohenna]

The Kor fell heavily, and she was too slow to draw her blade completely out of its thick hide before it crashed to the ground. The fall, and the subsequent jerking of her blade brought her to her knees beside the bulky corpse. She cursed as she hit the mud, her bracing arm landing in a particularly deep area of the wet soil. The stench of mud, blood, and unwashed orc assaulted her suddenly, and she yanked hard, freeing the short sword, falling back on her behind.

She pushed the hair out of her face with a muddy hand, glancing around to see what was happening. A sound behind her...she flipped to her feet, whirling around, her wet cloak slapping against her boots...two orcs facing her down...she lunged, twirling at one of them, slicing through its pectorals...then the other...a slash across the face...damned mud...she was heavier than usual...

She was knocked to the ground. Cursing, she tried to leap to her feet, slipping in the mud. The orcs loomed. Shayde cursed loudly, and with a roar of frustration drew herself upright again.

The larger of the two orcs suddenly bubbled blood from its nose and mouth, stiffening, then Melanie’s dark, lithe figure appeared from behind it as it crashed to the ground, her scythe hacked through its immense ribcage. Orion brought his greatsword down on the other one, slicing through its shoulder and chest. Blood spurted over Shayde. She danced out of the way as it, too, fell into the mud, then wiped her eyes quickly, looking up at them both with a grateful nod.

Another orc approached them from behind Orion. Shayde flung her dagger; it embedded itself in the Kor’s forehead, and she pushed between Mel and Orion to leap onto its chest, drawing the dagger out deftly.

Silence fell. The troops gathered, glancing around at the valley, along the ridges...it was clear. For now.

Sam and Amelia had left them hours back to return to Arina; Elvina had taken her troops further toward Dasar earlier in the day after Shayde had scouted for her for a while. She was tired, aching, and couldn't find a clean patch on herself anywhere.

“I’m going back to Lendose. I’ll return tomorrow.”

She bid the pair farewell, making her way to the small village at the edge of the war. She heard raised voices as soon as she entered the Inn. Reina and Celestia. She pushed her way into the back room to find the two women facing each other, the men all attempting to be as invisible as possible. Looking between them, she wondered if it were worth intervening, or whether this was an encounter that had to happen. Neither of them acknowledged her. She watched, wearily, as her name was raised, along with Sams. Too tired for frustration, she simply went peacefully numb inside.

She turned, heading upstairs to have a bath. Tired, mud and blood caking her skin, armour and hair, her muscles screaming in protest, Daniel having verbally abused her the moment he entered the inn...she was weary of all the foolish things that people fought over. Her attention was on the battle, now. She’d eat, rest, and head out again at dawn. There were more important things to focus on.

[rohenna]

The walk back to the village of Lendose was always a time of quiet contemplation for Shayde. The cacophony of battle sounds – metal clanging against metal, thudding into flesh; the screams of the wounded and dying, the whirring of a hundred arrows slicing through the sky, the blood pounding in her head – left a ringing sound in her ears that took a night of sleep and quiet to fade.

A couple of days out there scouting for a small group headed towards Dasar; her task had been to bring them to a scout that met them halfway – it had gone well, no loss of life, and the soldiers quickly moving off under the guidance of the other scout. She’d then guided another group to a small encampment further afield, setting off back to Lendose once they were settled in and she had had a short rest.

Now the march of her fellow soldiers beat a tattoo, a rhythm to which she was able to slip into her mind and mull over life beyond the front. Things had shifted so quickly she’d hardly had time to understand it all. The explosion over the kiss; she and Darion having a quiet conversation, both agreeing to part ways...she was still saddened, but they knew it was for the right reasons; speaking the truth out loud to Celestia; and the return of Ael, the brother of her heart. The sight of him left her conflicted. Joy at his return, and a sharp pang at the reminder of Talon’s death.

Reina’s heartache and hope. Reina’s very attractive grandfather paying Shayde a visit...the whole conversation played over in her mind in quiet moments...Fae grandfathers were certainly not akin to human grandfathers, she reflected with a slight blush. Karis had offered to take her to Lancon when she next went; Shayde was looking forward to the journey. Somewhere new, away from the front and everything familiar...that would be a balm to her heart. And Karis’s company was never dull.

Calimus and Zo’art had ended...she ached for both of her friends. Shayde would try to track Zo’art down to see how she was. Calimus was a broken man. She wondered if Zo’art fared much better.

The walls of Lendose loomed ahead, and she increased her pace as the gates came into view.

A few moments later she stepped inside the Inn. The normal din of the crowded room hushed noticeably as she entered, and she looked around, puzzled. Some of the soldiers there were watching her, others turned away. She looked up to Angus quizzically, and noted an odd expression on his face as he gestured to her to head into the back room. Larren Barraan looked up as she entered, his face grim. He held in his hand a dirty piece of parchment.

“What is it?” The others watched her entrance, then looked to Larren as she spoke.

“The scout...the one you delivered that unit to...was a Canite agent.” He paused, his expression torn between pain and sympathy. “We...lost them all.”

Shayde stumbled back against the wall, a cold chill rushing through her body as the horror of his words sunk in. The faces of every one of those soldiers flashed in her mind, and she sank to the floor, before turning onto her knees and retching.

[rohenna]

The ride to Ravenswatch was mostly silent. Amelia kept pace with her, but they barely spoke, each lost in their own thoughts. She waited outside the city walls while Amelia went in to collect Arina.

Dried blood from the cut on her throat itched, a reminder of her shame, her guilt, her grief. The enormity of her failure loomed like a shadow over the moon...Darion, those soldiers she had lost, and now her best friend. Soap – or whatever had hold of her – was right. She’d deserted her. She’d promised to help her – said she would stop at nothing – then lost herself in a multitude of other things...nothing even that seemed important enough now to have taken her attention away. Meanwhile, Soap was in their hands, alone...abandoned.

“Hurt me, as I hurt you. Cut my flesh to match the wound in your heart. You are owed vengeance.” She had bared her throat to Soap’s blade as the full realisation of her abandonment struck her. “Take it. I deserve it. You know I do. We called each other family and then I went away when you needed me most. I left you to them... And yet still, I love you.” The only glimmer of hope Shayde had was that her Soap was in there somewhere; she had stayed the hand that held the blade, only just. A barter.

“I promised. Promised. Darion instead, that’s what you said.” Soaps voice managed to break through for a few seconds, called off the shadow within from cutting her throat entirely – the tiniest sliver of familiarity in that angry little face – then that other, menacing voice she knew to be that foul shadow cut her off, addressing Shayde “Perhaps....Darion...should pay for your crimes...He will die begging for someone to save him...”

There was a cold stone in the pit of her stomach. An insidious whisper in her mind “Orion was right, you cause nothing but pain and chaos” murmured over and over, weaving itself around her thoughts as she tried to focus on what needed to be done.

They had to find Celestia. “I don’t care if she thinks I am Coloth’s handmaiden, she needs to work with me on this.“ Amelia had agreed, offering her help. She might be the one thing that would soften Celestia’s resistance to her.

She had to warn Darion. Soap was dangerous at the best of times; now with the power of those shadows about her – she was deadly. And hunting him.

Amelia soon emerged, a bright flame in the early dusk, her white travelling robes luminous in the soft light, and they set off toward Lendose.

[rohenna]

Soap’s little black cloth was now normally folded on the little night stand beside her bed, but in her sleep, she’d reached out and drawn it to her. She now lay curled around it, both hands clutching it to her chest, a soft smile on her face, her back to Sam.

It was after dusk, that new kind of darkness that usually lends itself to dark blues, but here there were nothing but cold greys, as if the colour had been leeched away. She was dancing. They were whirling her around to some unheard rhythm, more a sensation than a sound; her hair was loose, flying about her, and her laughter spilled forth unrestricted. Her feet never tired, her breath never caught...it was an endless dance, led in a weave, then spun in a twirl, then under a forest of shadowy hands.

It briefly occurred to her in the back of her mind that she’d never actually danced with the shadows before. Her relationship to them was more an awareness of them around her, but never close. Never touching her. Never even approaching her. She slipped in and out of their world as a traveller, a guest. But never this, before.

It was a soft, benevolent, safe feeling. She knew they were there to protect her, to buffer the pain the world could inflict, yet there was something missing...she felt incomplete...she stopped a moment, pulling away from the shadowy dancers, stepping out of their path.

They beckoned. They coaxed. They implored.

Then the feeling was gone again, and she was drawn back into the dance, spinning and laughing, her grey skirts flying around her legs.

They whispered things to her, sweet, beautiful, loving things. She resisted a little, at first, then the wild thing within her fell silent and she allowed their adoration to soak into her skin as they took her to a soft mossy bank and laid her head in their laps, stroking her hair, her hands, her feet.

And then again...that sense of something incomplete. She sat up, pushed back her hair, and as she did, strands of it caught in her ring. Her ring.

She looked down at it, then suddenly all around, looking for him.

“Where is Sam? He should be here. He was standing right beside me...”

The shadows began to murmur, seductive, low, like a chorus of soft voices.
“He doesn’t belong here. You do”
“You don’t need him, you have us now”
“We can give you so much more...”
“We love you. All of us. How can that compare?”
“He can’t follow you to greatness. You are meant to be Queen of us all. Queen of the shadows. Queen of the night...”

She stared at them all, shaking her head at first as if to clear it, then more vehemently, holding up her hand to show them the ring. They drew back as if burned.

“You’re wrong. You’re so very wrong. If he is not to come with me, then I will not go.” She rose to her feet, certainty straightening her spine and lifting her chin. Colour filtered back into her dress, into the moss at her feet and the shadows drew back, faceless and silent for the moment. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of brightness as he appeared, walking toward her. The shadows filtered away.

In her sleep, she let go of the cloth and turned over, reaching out for Sam’s hand.

[rohenna]

She was alone, for the first time in days. They’d all worked hard getting the place set up, the school, the music room, and Sam and Shayde’s living quarters at the back of the building. Her Inn room had been emptied of all but the basic furniture; she would keep it for Falira’s use, or an office, or whatever other uses it had, and her things had found new places in the rooms they set aside for themselves.

The silver box Celestia made had been pushed to the back of the armoire that held Shayde’s clothes. It was easy to ignore it the first couple of nights; she’d collapsed into bed exhausted from the move and all the excitement, but now, alone, everything finished...the faint, muffled whispers began to filter through the stillness. At first she had moved to the schoolroom; hoping the distance would prevent the intrusion into her peace, but the sound was just loud enough not to be blocked out. Inconsistent enough to break the silence with its chaotic rise and fall.

She tried to read. The whispers persisted. Finally she rose, moved the back of the house, quickly changing into a tunic and some pants, and stepped to the door. She hesitated. Cursing, she went back to the armoire, roughly grasped the silver box, and dropped it onto a pouch at her hip.

Outside, the early evening air was still balmy. She filled her lungs deeply, closing her eyes a moment as the fresh air rushed in. The moon was full, rising just over the defensive walls, its pale blue light like a cool sun across the city. She climbed quickly. Hoisting herself onto the wall, the stone cool beneath her palms, she smiled. Settling down, she set the box between her knees and opened it slowly. The whispers grew louder immediately. She shut the lid, gasping, closing her eyes.

She took a deep breath, opening her eyes, then tipped back the lid of the box with a purposeful motion, and slipped the black cloth around her wrist, exhaling long and soft. Then she waited. Moments later, the shadows came.

“Dance with us...”
“Your kingdom awaits you...you were born to be our queen...”
“Stay awhile...just a little while...”
“You have nothing to fear...”
“We’ll protect you...”

She stood silently, swathed in greys, as they moved and danced around her, not touching her. Some of the forms grew faces, familiar and unfamiliar, but she could not help but cry out as her mothers face formed before her eyes, lingering as the shadow hovered in front of her. She reached out to touch her, then suddenly her arms were grasped by several pairs of hands, pulling, tugging, holding her there.

The whispering became a blend of murmured words.

“Stay...queen...dance...desire...power...freedom...”

She danced.

The sun rose, hours later, the first rays of sun reaching the silver box, the refracted light startling her. Shayde cried out and pulled the cloth from her wrist, stuffing it into the box, bewilderment registering on her face as she realised how long she had been.

Cursing, she climbed down.

There must be a way to resist them. To master them. Just a little more research...

[Althalus]

He remembered the tears. He remembered the desire to keep her safe and yet he knew nothing about the draw this cloth had on her. It was the subtle things. They way she turned his eyes from him when she spoke it it. The way she softly deflected the questions.

It was late and he was awoken in the same manner he had been for the last few nights: by the jerky movements of a half-elf lost to a troubling dream. Only this time, he did not wake her right away. Sliding from the bed, he stole over to the armoir wherein lay a custom made silver box. It was closed. The thin ribbon from his housecoat pocket was easily affixed to the back of the lid.

He knew she had promised to use it only when he was about. And there was nothing more he wanted than to give her the benefit of the doubt. But fitful night after fitful night made him question whether she was truly in control of that decision anymore.

The box sealed discreetly, he closed the armoir and crawled back into bed, rolling towards her and rubbing her eyebrows as one would to calm the nightmares of a child. There was the unmistakable look of love in his eyes.