I am the voice in the darkness, calling to you like a siren. I am your addiction, yet you find no comfort from me. I am the beauty overwhelming your senses, yet my body you can never touch. I am the Mother of Bones, and I covet yours. I patiently await the day you willingly come to me to lend your soul to the ether so I may lay claim to your lifeless shell. Come to me as a lover and let me destroy your mind, so I may take you as my slave. However, do not make me wait too long lest I must take you too soon. Meet me in my Lair of Bones and join with my minions at my feet. You will be left forever wanting my touch and my grace and though it will never be enough, you will serve.
You will become my own child, given to the earth and made pure only to be reborn from my womb into that which I wish you to be. I will love you, comfort you, and treasure you as a mother cares for her child. But, before you are washed of your sins, you will know the beautiful agony of death, then feel pain no longer. Your skin will be flayed from your body before icy fingers claw at your muscle and sinew, ripping the flesh from your bones - your marvelous bones. It is then, you will lie at my feet as I sit upon my throne of darkness. And this, my sweet one, is when the world will know fear!
Last edited by Iduna on Tue Oct 14, 2014 8:34 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Years...it has been years since I last saw you - clumsily panting, sweating, and fumbling atop me as I stared up at the starry sky and shadows of cacti overhead. While you were clumsy, I was stiff, lending nothing to our coupling to add any resemblance to pleasure, yet it was that night you asked me to leave with you and abandon my life of discipline and control. For a brief moment, I believed you actually wanted me until reality set in. You could never love me; you only wanted a warm body to possess - to control absolutely. I almost craved that...almost. One such as you could never truly feel as I do, for you can feel nothing at all. That I believed we could ever have a future was only an enigma of a youthful mind; thus, I believe myself wise in the decision to remain with the monks, my teachers. I still had much left to learn; it was not yet my time to wander.
And now, as malevolent shadows swirl around me, you are here. You have come to me, unbidden, at times as a paralyzing nightmare, yet sometimes as a fond dream. You have returned to me as though our souls have been forever entwined. Even as we lived our childhood dreams, we would always part, knowing we would be reunited the following winter as fate always dragged one to the other. You will never love me, but I will ensure you will always need me. Without me, you are doomed to destroy yourself. I will have your devotion in all things, and in return, you will have complete servitude. I will be your Queen, sitting upon my Throne of Darkness beside your magnificent Seat of Nightmares. Together, we shall create and rule our world of death, decay, and shadow; then watch as the darkness of fear spreads over the world as a virulent disease.
Years… it has been years since I last saw you – you weren’t enjoying yourself but then neither was I. I remember how dark it was and how clearly the stars reflected their bleak, pale light on your shivering toned body. I didn’t really know what we were doing but neither did you. We tried to do what I thought we were supposed to do as coming of age teenagers and you did not object. I remember how stiff and uncomfortable you were as I tried to be a man for you. I remember the look of disappointment in your eyes when you told me to stop and how upset you became when I didn’t. You were mine in that moment and you were embodied perfection; you gave yourself to me freely and I had every right to continue doing what we had come here to do. So I pressed you down under my weight and pinned your wrists against the hard rocks above your head. The warmth in your eyes faded, turning them stone cold on me. I think you realized that your request meant nothing.
I think this was the moment when you began to understand that we would never be like the people in the fairytales in which everything always ended up with smiles and joy, happily ever after. I just desperately wanted to have you, all of you; your mind, body and soul. It wasn’t love, but to me it was as close as I thought I would ever get. To me, it was enough. Not to you though.., I see that now.
A little later I had run out of breath and you had run out of love. I wasn’t sorry but I could have wished you had enjoyed it too. I asked you to run away with me because now that you were mine I had to take care of you. A distorted image of romance which I had projected onto our situation based on stories I was told by our elders. Again; it was what I thought we were supposed to do. Unfortunately, this time you did reject me. It infuriated me; this time I was the one who became disappointed so when I walked away I never looked back. This was my punishment for you; you weren’t supposed to treat me like that. I didn’t hate or resent you for it. You simply ceased to exist for me.
Now, as malevolent shadows swirl around you, destiny has put us back together again. As if you have followed me, unbidden, you are back in my life like a paralyzing nightmare, a reminder of something I received but never wanted. Yet you are also the dream that I once longed to chase. You have come to me. Have you finally understood that you made the wrong choice when you rejected me and stayed behind?
I always knew that our souls were forever entwined. Even when we were children, we couldn’t wait until the cold winters would turn the deserts inhabitable as it meant that we would see one another again. My people would seek shelter within the walls of your safe sanctuary. I will forgive you for your rejection and I will value the nearness of you enough to again make the promise that I will shelter you and keep you safe. I know that you think you love me, and I shall reward your obedience with the comfort and familiarity you crave. I will devote myself to making you think I am yours, too. The idea of touching you again is revolting. But if you crave this intimacy then I will fake it until you believe me to be true.
Don’t be upset that I will never love you, for I am still here to stay. You are mine and I will protect and shelter you. I will watch you every waking hour. I will be there when you go to bed and I will be there when you wake up. You are my most prized possession because only your perfection matches my own; I claim you to be my other half. Together, we shall create and rule our world of death, decay, and shadow; then watch as the darkness of fear spreads over the world as a virulent disease.
I look into your eyes and see the fruit of your seed planted in my womb, looking back at me from their azure depths. You know not of her existence and I will not tell you, as I know how you will respond. Your rejection is something I cannot bear - rejection of me, and the life we created so long ago. I see into your hardened heart and know there is no place for family. As it is, your acceptance of me is based upon the perfection we share. I am your most prized possession because only my perfection matches your own; you claimed me to be your other half and there is no room for anyone else.
I abandoned her when I left in the dead of night, while the monastery slept. You believe I was forced to leave in disgrace, but this is a mere tale I told you to hide the actual reason for my wandering. I could not continue looking into her face, only to see visions of you reflected within her eyes. Days passed and the memories of you came to me, unbidden, as a nightmare that I could not escape...that I did not want to escape. I could no longer be saddled with this child who should not have been, so I left the constant torment of her existence and ran away from you. Yet I can never be free of you, when you possess me so fully. Time has shown me the truth of this and now we are to create a new life where I offer myself to you in complete servitude. I finally understand that I made the wrong choice when I rejected you and stayed behind.
This life we are creating has made me realize the choice I would make, should I be forced to choose between you and her. I would always choose you. Children can easily be created again; either living, or dead. For now, I make mindless slaves, forced to do my bidding as it is my dark blood running along their polished white bones. They will be our children, our spawn, our legacy. We will never have a life that is considered normal by most people. I long ago realized we would never be like the people in fairy tales, in which everything always ends up with smiles and joy, happily ever after. I desperately want to give you all of me; my mind, body, and soul, as you will never accept my heart. We are joined by fate; two bodies, two minds, and two hearts living with one soul. Where I end, you begin, as we compliment each other to create a single supreme being. It is because of this that I am not upset you will never love me, for you are here to stay. I am yours and you will protect and shelter me.
I look into your eyes and see your adoration. I recognise how you try to please me. You go out of your way to twist your words into the sound I prefer to hear; your silent agreement and admittance. Though at times your subtlety in execution is less than acceptable, I appreciate how hard you try. I will not mock your attempts and I prefer to not let you know how transparent you are to me. You deserve my encouragement.
You know how I will respond and you aim to carefully tailor your behavior to fit my desires. I know I have high standards but you are talented and are not holding back in your attempts to meet my demands. This is why I think that you are due some honesty.
When I punished you for rejecting me it was not my intent to disappear from your life. I was forced to abandon you because of what you allowed me to do. The consequences to your actions caused pain to the both of us but you must understand that I do not fault you. You never desired to be separated from me either. How could you have known that they would accuse me; of debauchery nonetheless? They, your benevolent masters, called me a defiler and a rapist. They named me a savage, mindless monster for uniting with you. I was cast me out in the dead of night while you slept, and they told you that it had been my own choice to leave. They, those who vowed to protect and shelter you first, sold you this lie and denied you what you needed most. Me.
I have not taken their deception lightly. I know how lost you must have felt and I curse the boy I was then for not having returned to your monastery to retrieve you. I should have taught each and every one of them what it means to separate a man from what is rightfully his. After that, I should have shown them forgiveness and given them redemption from the heinous crime they committed. In death.
I admit to having made some mistakes. But I promise to you; I will not make them again. Because now I fully understand the damages that were caused. I understand you so much better now. There is nobody in this world who understands you more than I do.
Where you end, I begin and I will be relentless, merciless and uncompromising in the way that I will use you to shape this life further; the way it will be from now on into a blessed eternity. I will not ask you to run away with me again. Your opinion about this has become irrelevant. Your actions have proven to me that you are incapable of making correct choices. Thus, I have decided that I will make them for you as your watchful counterpart. I will heed your desires and decide what it is that you need most. Never again will I be the one to let you down.
Mother of Bones. I watch you cherish your creations lovingly and how you preserve them. I see you pouring your heart into the second chance you give to those whose lives were already lost. You are strong and unyielding; you will do anything to honor that which to you is plain beautiful and desirable. I understand that this your passion.
I understand that these bones are like the children you will never have. Children that were never sired; that never required siring. You made them. Each and every one of them is nurtured and shaped into the image that you deem perfect. Each and every one of them makes you happy. It gives you the comfort you need.
I listen to you sleep at night and I hear the pleas in your dreams. I hear you cry sometimes and I know it is not because you are unhappy here, with me, but for the sacrifices you made to get here. I recognise an agonising pain. I would take pity on you and I would take away this pain, if I only could. I would ask you to explain to me what hurts you so, if only I cared. But I don’t.
You see; I consider you mine like you consider these bones yours. Maybe once you had different masters, similar to your bones, but these masters are gone and the past no longer matters. Not to you and not to me. This is the reason why I will not take pity on you, take away your pain, or ask for you to share it with me. This is why I don’t care.
I preserve you too. I honor you like you honor them. Because you have potential and because I find you beautiful. Simply put; I find you worth having. Like you clean your bones of memories, I am cleaning you. I am nurturing you and shaping you into the image that I deem perfect. Because I hope that this will make me happy. It will be through my efforts that you will be reborn; naked, stripped and cleaned. Once you are, I hope to desire you like you desire them. For your sake, and for mine, because I want to find some comfort too.
Your comfort is a small price to pay for me to have mine. You will obediently submit to the suffering and pain I will put you through and you will not object. Because you and I, we are not so different. Not different at all.
Through a twist of fate our noses have been turned into a different direction. Unexpected but long awaited, life has picked up on what we knew we had all along but never were granted. All this work that went into keeping us separated for eight long years has come undone. You and I have been recognized. Because of this, you no longer face me and as your eyes are, so are mine. They gaze to a distant horizon and into an unpredictable, uncertain future. The play has ended, the curtains have fallen and now that all has gone quiet, we hold hands to face a different sort of music. I feel your back against mine and I am confident I have yours too. The old you versus me has become a new, precious, uncoiling we.
We now walk the land, hand in hand, while tiptoeing toward the threshold of a world that is not our own. The shadows have always been with us, but now we can sense them as we grow closer in every way. We can see a fleeting glimpse of an unknown being here, smell the aromas of this unknown cesspit there, and hear the approach of invisible beings behind us. For the people of the world, we put forth a calm front to never let on that we know there is more than what they have the ability to sense. What changed us to become this way? I carry a key to a prison housing a great evil that cannot be unleashed upon this land, lest it destroy us all… or so I have been lead to believe. It is this reason the shadows swirl around our feet like an incessant fog, always seeking to claim and destroy. It is why we carry weapons that allow us to sense there is more out there.
Beyond the threat of shadow our plans are beginning to take shape and the pieces are being strategically placed. We have fabricated the life we always wanted to have lived and appearances have been set forth. To the people of the world we are traveling merchants, dealing in the healing arts. However, in actuality, we serve a far darker purpose. We lure our victims into our web much like the spider does with the fly. Our purpose is to influence and corrupt those weak-minded individuals who are worth nothing more than fodder for the wrong side of the war. They will all become our children; polished, pure, and perfect. Where they never had purpose in life, we will make them shine in death.
The first blessed night we spent together as we began fulfilling our destiny, we watched a man die in agony. This night, as well as this man, will always be remembered with fondness. We fed upon our combined strengths and emerged successful; our plan was performed to perfection. The disease was injected flawlessly and we were victorious as the Grub Lord watched. We observed the progression of the disease within the witless drunk and reveled in every whimper of pain and in every cry for help. It came in the end, that help. But only in the form of the death rattle which shook his bones.
His glorious bones. As soon as our observations were documented, they were meticulously cleaned and polished. We were proud when he lay before us; beautiful, gleaming with wonder like a newborn child. The nameless man's pain served its purpose. We will always cherish our first trueborn, and we look forward to each one that will follow into his steps.
Through suffering comes purity. This pain we inflict purges the mind and body of sin and it leaves only exquisite innocence. It strips us down to our core and leaves nothing but our own personal truths. All conscious thought is removed to reveal the very essence of whom we are. We can never truly know ourselves without enduring ruthless torture.
And as for us.. We must peel back the layers of lies that began to envelop us the moment we were set onto this world. As we do this, we celebrate the agony of our lives. We have accepted that for us to do as we are told, we have a lifetime of anxious longing to spend. It will be some time before it comes for us too; but we are patient and we will make sure that we do not live in vain. There is so much more that needs to be done - there’s an entire world to be purified and there are so many secrets to reveal. We have an entire army to raise. If we must live then we will live as martyrs. We will serve our time ferociously and there will be no apologies.
((Post co-written by Kell and Iduna))
Last edited by Iduna on Tue Oct 14, 2014 8:35 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The table was quiet. A match of patience, strength and will was battled out in complete silence by the light of a few, nearly burned out candles. It was late. Numbers, hearts and spades; the cards made invisible radars move feverishly fast behind eyes of whom Milan knew to be skilled players. Like swordsmen trained to cut throats, these men were trained to check, bet, raise or fold. The game was set, the stakes were high and the feeling? It was right.
Milan checked his cards again to make sure he was making the right choices. There was a nice sum at stake here; twenty-thousand crowns for the man who’d show his nerves to be of steel. Twenty-thousand crowns would make an exquisite initial investment on the storefront Tina planned to open. Twenty-thousand crowns that he could win in a single round, if he played the cards right. Tina was present too. She slid him a shaded, discrete look from the other side of the table. They were in a small gambling den at the rear of the Vissen and she looked her part; ravishing.
Earlier that night, Milan had watched Tina exit her meditation room and noted the serenity that radiated from her deceivingly slender form. While she appeared weak and insignificant, he knew every aspect of her steel spine and the prowess she wielded in battle. He’d looked down at the plain gold ring she had given him only an hour before and realized the significance of the trinket. It was not a symbol of love, but one of devotion and servitude. Every one of her actions showed she could be trusted, but there was always that underlying fear that she would eventually leave his control.
He’d stood and moved quietly to the next room. There, he opened her dresser and retrieved the silky red dress that seemed to ooze sex. When she first tried it on for him, he forbade her from ever wearing it in public, deeming it too revealing for any eyes to see, aside from his own. But now, he squeezed the thin material between his fingers as he looked to her thoughtfully. She stood in the doorway watching him. "Here. Put this on. We are going out." Carelessly he’d thrown the dress to her, ignoring the look of surprise budding in her eyes.
In her usual manner, she had removed her priestly vestments and offered no argument or demand for explanation. In that moment, he appreciated her obedience that typically came so easily. His eyes had traveled over her nude form, taking in every feminine curve and each bulge of her lean musculature, again enjoying her pure perfection and reveling in the knowledge that it was completely his. He’d thought back to the day before, remembering the promise he had asked her to make to try and squelch her womanly desire for him over the course of a week, yet another test of trust. Wicked thoughts swirled within his mind of how he would push her limits and try to force her to break her promise, so to determine her level of reverence for him and his dictions. As the filmy silk of her dress cascaded over her form, he had almost been disappointed to lose the vision of perfection that stood before him. He’d given her a grunt of approval and left the little house they shared, expecting her to follow.
It did not take them long to meet the group of men, ready to try their luck against the strange foreigner who dared think he could best them. Tina entered the Vissen a few minutes before Milan, looking very much out of place and lost. The men noticed her immediately and set upon her as a hungry wolf would their prey. Her shy smiles and subdued demeanor appealed to their baser desires, while the dress she wore put the need to claim her firmly in their minds. They were eager to invite her to join their table. Then, Milan approached and asked to join their game with his usual charm. Assuming an easy win over this kind and wealthy looking foreigner, they readily accepted and asked him to join.
Milan worked carefully, purposefully losing the first few games to lure the men into a false sense of confidence. All the while, Tina flitted from one man to the next, whispering soft words of encouragement and false promises to distract them from her actual purpose of looking at their hands. She showed no special favors to any one of them, and moved among the entire group equally. As Milan lost another game, his eyes followed her lustfully, lending his own heated gaze to match those of his companions. Tina met his gaze and recognized the previously agreed upon signal to strike, then flickered her lashes downward in a subtle show of submission that was easily lost on the rest of the group. Milan smiled helplessly and jingled his almost empty coin purse, "Well gentlemen, it would appear I only have one more game left in me tonight. Might I deal this round?"
After making a small fortune off of him, the group laughed and the deck of cards was slid across the table to him. The bets were made and the stakes grew until the center of the table was piled high with crowns. Milan's shrewd gaze easily counted the total amount to be roughly twenty emperors; it all came down to this hand. Tina completed another circuit around the table, then spoke up in a soft, shy voice, "to add a little interest to this game, I offer myself to the victor. I will belong to him for the entire night."
With that, all eyes were upon her. The men fell silent and let their eyes rake over her body, taking in every curve and letting their imaginations wander. Already, they were deciding what they were going to do to such a lovely creature - one who seemed so willing to submit to their every desire. All eyes, that is, except for Milan's. He was looking at his cards with a perfect mask of indifference upon his face. "I call," he said softly, then showed his hand to reveal a straight flush, aces high.
The table nearly erupted into violence as Milan's winning hand was shown. Had it not been for the Constable entering the bar at that precise moment, blood would have been spilled. Everything happened, just as Milan planned. He knew when the Constable made his usual patrol of the docks, and his nightly detour into the Vissen for a quick drink. He also knew that Tina would never make such an offer unless she knew, without a single doubt, that she would be going home with him. A perfectly laid plan that was perfectly executed, down to the smallest of players. Collecting his winnings, Milan smiled at Tina and offered his arm to her. The couple left the Vissen, together, looking very much like they were joined at the soul.
Those blasted clocks have all run down, or does time stand still without you around?
The birds don't sing their little song and the prophecies have all proved wrong...
And thus it became, that Milan’s clever guise of quiet merchant was no more. All it took was a heat infused moment, practical violence and calculated intent. He’d found Klementina’s note on the bed in which she slept that night, so he had followed her up to the grove up near Tristan. As he would. As he always would; not risking leaving her alone for longer than he could stand. There he’d found her speaking with this other man. He was the blonde giant with the kind voice who so lavishly shared his stories with her, listened to her, and who seemed to be quite taken by her. The blonde deceiver with the tainted heart; he was the excommunicated Canite, the Heretic.
Daniel Bane. The name alone was enough to have the warlock vexed. The thought of his Tina so willingly positioning herself within arm’s reach of Bane roused Milan’s anger and jealousy, despite having given her his permission to do so the night before. When she had inquired how far she could go, he’d meant it when he said he did not want her to hold back. But when he saw her with him the following morning, he could not deny having to bury his discontent deep. It was because of this, that he hadn’t needed much encouragement when she told him to hit her. He had not waited a moment to oblige. He had tried to seem indifferent, but the need to punish her for treading so violently on his soul, had him hungry for satisfaction and revenge. She was breaking her purity and defiling their union. And though she did it for something entirely holier than the notion of “them”, it hurt. He had warned her that should she pull through with her vile plans that would desecrate of their bond, that he would not be responsible for the consequences. So he had felt no remorse when he took his punishment to a next level.
Finding relief in an utmost violent fit he’d smashed her delicate face against the broken tree trunk only minutes after Daniel left. Once, twice.. Three times. And he reveled as he recognised the sharpness of pain in her muddled, watery eyes as her blood gushed from her nostrils over her broken, torn lips. He had marveled at her beauty, the strength she showed in enduring him and had been thrilled when she dared to ask for more. This is why he felt almost disappointed when she limply fell to the floor as he released her from his hold. He had kicked her, a harsh justice for her giving up, until her ribs broke and she fell unconscious. He’d barely left her breathing. But barely was just about right.
When he was recovered and secure in the notion that in fact she was still alive, he’d laid out the scene as if she had still had the strength to send a small mechanical bird flying with the message that Daniel needed to come back. A present from Daniel to her, but Milan sent it. He knew that she had desired for Daniel to find her like this and was simply adhering her wishes so he lifted it up and set it free. Then he shrouded himself in shadow and waited in darkness for the blonde knight to return. For hours it had seemed.
What really happened after Bane returned remained unclear to Milan but it was chaotic, wicked and had filled him with delight. As the grove erupted in violent flames, mephits, imps and devils appeared and fought. They had shrieked, shouted and screamed laughter at Daniel and the companions that joined. They had sought to defile the grove presumably as Milan had defiled it by dousing it in her blood. But whether the shadow and flame that consumed the grove truly were side-effect to his actions, he knew not. Yet he was amused and felt grateful for the possibility of the Nether heeding the call of his blood.
As the fires greedily licked at his boots he’d stood opposed them; the Tainted Knight, the Tah’nai Shaman, the Inverted Devil and the Archdruid. Milan stood unparched, stoic and calm, smiling all the while. As the fires subsided, the realizations of what they encountered dawned and hatred began burning in their eyes. Milan knew that the plan had succeeded. How easy it was to corrupt the simple souls through their emotions? He enjoyed watching their responses of outrage; what sort of man would beat a woman to an inch of her life and not feel remorse? Like a bunch of fat fish they took the bait, unaware of the poison dipped hook that was driven into their being as they swam in disgust, away from all that seemed so wrong. And anxiously protected she stood amongst them; his beautiful and talented Tina.
Blissfully ignorant they had punished him for their projected sins as they took justice into their own hands. They had released the wrath of nature onto him, taking an eye for an eye, and had sought to teach him the requirements to their acceptance. They had mandated him to make his apologies to Tina and had tried to force him to comply and show regret. But he was no liar so he denied them which subsequently followed in his banishment from their sight. No devil was sacred.
The silent solitude that wrapped around his heart when he stepped out had been chilling. Reluctantly he left Tina with them, aware that she was now no longer under his control. He needed to remind himself that she would know what to do, and that she would not betray him without his permission. But without her reassurance he felt desperate, broken and lost, anxiously grasping for any straw of faith. This was one sacrifice he had not foreseen to be this difficult to deal with.
As she watched Milan walk away from the Grove on that fateful day, Tina could feel her soul ripping in two. It invoked such strong physical response of actual pain that it became almost too difficult to bear; even worse than the pain of the shattered bones of her ribs. It very nearly overwhelmed her emotions, but she called upon the intense mental training she endured over her entire life within the monastery. Concentrating upon the beating of her heart, and focusing on the wholeness of her presence, mind over body, she came to endure the pain stoically as she usually did. The soft words of comfort that issued forth from the vile mouth of that dwarf who dared use nature against the other half of her soul, angered her on a very deep level. He kept speaking with his toxic analogies and false euphemisms while the violence that swirled through her mind took a much stronger hold. The horrible wrongness of it all, and the pain of her injuries, was enough to produce the affected tears that accompanied her words.
With a shaky voice, she timidly relayed the problem she had fabricated for Milan; a dreadful injury he sustained while training. Softly, she explained how she was able to heal him and how he had changed the next day. She was at a loss as to what went wrong and more importantly, how to fix him. The blame was firmly placed upon her own shoulders, through her words, making it appear as though she truly believed that she had failed Milan somehow. Throughout her story she kept looking at Daniel, dejectedly, to make it appear like she needed his comfort; yet in truth, she was hawking for any reaction upon his stony face. As usual, the man's emotions were tightly guarded, but that wouldn’t last long; she would continue getting closer and break down his defenses.
He was finally beginning to trust her. From the moment he shared his past with her, and she learned about the righteous, holy cause he once fought for, she decided to find a way to break down the barrier that was keeping his alter-ego at bay. She had to save this lost soul and return him to where he belonged. To do this, she needed to learn the shape of the barrier, and the mental pathways to break it down. For weeks, she had been offering her help to make sure the barrier was strong and secure; all the while, Milan worked from the shadows to find any weakness and break it down. When Daniel finally admitted that he needed her help, she was granted the perfect opportunity.
She sat down with him, in that peaceful Grove, and began leading him through a deep meditation with the intention of helping him strengthen the barrier, while she learned its weaknesses. This is how she would be able to find the one key to destruction. The information she gathered, just from that one session, was invaluable. The mental image of the prison that held Amerial captive within his own mind was bright as day, and she saw the magical pillars feeding it. One thing was clear, she was going to need help. The persona of Daniel needed to be broken down and it had to disappear. But the barrier was strong, and there was no guarantee that it would stay away once torn down. It could never come back. It had to be leveled and become the foundation of the truth trapped within.
Last edited by Iduna on Tue Oct 14, 2014 8:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
The nauseating scent of rotten eggs still clung to Milan’s presence when he woke up on the other side of his journey. He was weary and every muscle in his body felt sore. His ears were still filled with the hissing sound of fire and the muffled screams of terror and pain that had assaulted his consciousness not so very long ago. He looked like he had gone to hell and back, because that’s exactly what he had done.
Hours ago he had left Tina with the promise that he would go and retrieve their daughter. Despite their agreement to the two years wait and much to Milan's dismay; he had not wanted to have Anastacia home at all but Tina had convinced him that two years would be enough to get used to the idea of having a child around the house. Milan had questioned her suggestion; he had never wanted the child at any rate but even if he would take responsibility; was their home really a place to raise any child? She’d reluctantly agreed to his doubts but she’d try to reason with him. If they would have two years, then surely they could make it fit for a child? Anastacia could work in the store and earn her own living; she would earn her existence and make it worth Milan’s while. Seeing the merits in that plan he had given his consent. Tina had been over the moon by the idea of having her little brat back.
But then everything changed. Suddenly the two-year plan had been thrown out of the window by Tina’s panicky claim that their daughter had to be retrieved right now. Apparently she’d fallen ill and she needed to be with her parents. Greafer had sent his minions to relay the message that if Tina would not give up Casliel’s key, Anastacia would fall into a slumber from which she would never wake up again. Tina had been desperate.
However Milan’s thoughts about it had been, he soon had found out that there was no point trying to argue with a mother in distress over her child and he had learned what he had to do. He had to go, travel as fast as he could, and take back the daughter of whom he only ever had seen a badly painted picture on Tina’s store counter. Supposedly she was blonde, like he used to be before Lilitu invaded his blood. Tina had said that she took after him. By no means was he prepared to be confronted with the pre-teen and what was even more daunting; he had no clue how to get past the monks who had expelled him from that same monastery eight years ago for the conception of this child. But he would figure it out. He had the shadows on his side and a demon on his shoulder to help him find his way.
As the portal to the nether closed, the fiery imagery of damnation faded. The heat subsided and Milan shivered as his body became accustomed to the cold chill of the human plane again. Rel had not woken up yet. Milan marveled at the barren landscape that rose up from the brimstone mists; he had arrived in the one place he truly called home. His Whitesand Wastes. He looked up at the bright, starry blanket over his head and decided that Gulashir had to be on his right hand side. Which meant that he needed to go north. A couple of hours perhaps; he wouldn’t have to walk very long to find the gates to Tina’s old home. By his estimates, he would arrive at noon. In meantime the desert would provide as it always had.
Milan opened his duffel bag and lay out the contents before him. It had been long but this ragged, linen tunic, this belt and this scarf still looked mighty fine considering the climate he was heading into. He got changed, switching his armor for this light, loose attire and immediately felt better. He knew that it would make the trudge through the sand far more bearable and he possibly would even enjoy it. In a way, he looked forward to welcoming Rel’s scorching heat on the plains. Because once a traveler, always a traveler and as the heat was in his blood, his feet were made to roam the sandy dunes.
Last edited by Kell on Fri Sep 26, 2014 4:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Behind the colorful curtains in a black stormful place, fingers drum against each other as they watch Milan's feet carry him over the heathing sand. The sound of wind and lightning is the only thing taking the attention from the crystal she's watching. Her long dark curly hair hangs intertwined in front of her peeling eyes,.. A long smirk from her lips shapes as she begins to laugh loudly, for moments after she just stares. Her lips winching as she attempts to speak "Soon Greafer, soon we will be one again; they are falling, they feel to much"
A swift hand with nails long as claws passes the crystal, changing the image to see Anastacia. The small young woman is about to sleep, being led there by the sister monks. Patiently the woman awaits for her to lay herself on the sheets, alone. - "Finally" her dry lips say as her eyes bend the white red lined side outwards. "Alaktras Chyn'gla, Betric'la Ydrihain* She speaks a foreign unknown ritual, letting a black/purple dust cloud appear besides the sleeping lady. It moves slowly around Anastacia examining the body as a worm reaching a wall. The being transform into an orb, shooting itself into Anastacia's body silently trough her mouth and nose. Leaving her weak, and now cursed.. "Six more days" The weak harsh voice says...
Storms rumble innocent pounding, destruction lay families apart. Embraced by death, attempt your escape. Hide and seek
Scorching heat. Milan loosened the scarf around his head a bit to get some air flowing, but it wouldn’t do him much good. Rel had slowly progressed the ascent to his throne high up in the skies and in this barren landscape there were no shadows save for the one that was following the warlock in his own tracks. It had only been a few hours but he’d learned very finely how accustomed he’d grown to the far cooler climate in Cear. Even Gulashir, the Burning City, had had times of respite and there always would be places to hide. But not here. Here, it was each man for himself and it was an entirely different hell on it’s own. Nevertheless Milan loved it.
He’d missed the beautiful mirages that shone over the sandy dunes in far off distances. The first sight of them had had him smiling in delight as he kept trudging forward. The plains themselves seemed aflame more and more as noon approached; the sand appeared burning as the air hovering over it vibrated angrily. The quiet solitude and the fortitude it took to continue his pace gave him the peace of mind that he needed to think and his thoughts went back to Cear again. They breezed over the life that he had created with Tina and how recent events had changed it all so drastically. And how it would change even more now that Anastacia was waiting around the corner. He was surprised to notice the curiosity that had fallen over him, towards the girl Tina claimed to be his daughter.
What would she really look like? What would she be like? Would he be able to recognise her? Would she be like Tina? What could she become? What did he want to do with her now that Tina had wanted her with them? What use could she be to them? What use were any eight year olds really?
As he kept pondering the possibilities of how they could actually benefit from her presence, he began to see more and more that perhaps Tina’s choice hadn’t been such a horrendously awkward one after all. She had not requested for Milan to all of a sudden start caring for their accidental spawn. He didn’t even know how he should. Right now making this track to go find her was all in all a hilarious endeavour already. He didn’t care for the girl; he cared for Tina. After seeing her shattered over Anastacia being ill and perhaps even beyond rescue, he hadn’t wanted to risk breaking her further.
In fact, considering how Tina had responded so strongly to the idea that her child was in danger, Milan saw some new opportunities. Provided the girl stayed alive, she could very well be just another way for him to make sure that his Tina would never leave. Despite the numerous times she had told him that she would not, he remained suspicious. But if he had control over the child then surely he would not have to worry about the mother?.. Marriage and a child, the perfect keys to locking Tina’s heart away for good. He knew it was low but there was no such place as too low, to get what you desired. At least not in Milan’s world. He smirked at the prospects.
He looked up from his wicked musings at the appearance of darkness ahead. Finally the end to his journey afoot was in sight; before him the desert was about to be swallowed by gracious towering monsters; the tall mountains that were passage to the more northern regions over the Wastes. And at their feet he recognised the monastery from which he had been expelled so many years ago. A crooked, dark smile dawned over his face. Time to find comforting shades, that would shroud his passage to the inside chambers. They would not notice Anastacia to be missing until it was too late.
Entering the monastery wasn’t a problem. This time of year many people were traversing there to prepare themselves for the upcoming cold season. Wagons and carts kept rolling in and out of the main gates and monks stood everywhere to help weary travellers find their ways. The smell of freshly baked bread lingered on the air and Milan's ears caught the plucking sound of someone tuning a violin. He heard a tambourine too, songs were being sung and old women hollered curses at the little children that flew by with excited giggles. The people were dressed colorfully and to many it was a happy return to old friends. But not for Milan.
It was easy to avoid being noticed in the chaos that was, as long as Milan kept to the shadows. And there were shadows aplenty. He reckoned that the chances of him being recognised were small at any rate; back then he was a flaxen haired, blue eyed, slender boy with the skin tone to match life on the sandy wastes. A fair opposite to the tall man he was today; dark-haired and with an ashy complexion. Nobody would suspect the changes he had gone through. He kept moving, carefully on the look-out for a child who would bear resemblance to him.
Passing through the gates and over the inner square filled him with a discomforting familiarity. Despite having sworn his revenge to the men of faith who had forcefully separated him from his Tina back then, he hadn’t wanted to come back here. Not really, at least. A nervous twitch made him pluck at the scarf that covered his nose and mouth to secure it was still well in place. As his eyes wandered he kept walking like he knew exactly where he was going but his memory of the place did not match up with what he was seeing. Things had changed. Tiny things that he could not place; there was supposed to be a door there and this balcony here was newly built. He frowned as he quickly ascended the steps of a stone stairs to oversee the area better.
As he stood watching time halted to a horribly unexpected stop. He was uncovered. Two midnight green eyes from the crowd were locked onto his and a cold shiver ran down his spine. The leather faced, elderly woman that stood watching him grinned him a toothless sneer. He stood as frozen, rendered immobile by the knowledge that she was even still alive. He’d made a possibly disastrous mistake in assuming he would not run into her. He prayed in silence to all that was holy that she would not act upon recognising him.
The initial shock took a firm grasp around his heart when the gypsy witch turned and made a pass to the wagon behind her. Her lips moved and a rather gruff looking senior appeared. Milan had not the quickness of mind to avoid falling prey to yet another set of dark eyes when the man looked up to him also. How unlucky Milan considered himself to be that right this day his grandparents had traveled here too; he loathed himself for not having seen that coming.
What happened next surprised him. His grandfather smirked and urged his grandmother to go fetch something from the wagon. After heaving up the mass of fabric that were her clothes, she climbed in to disappear briefly and come out again holding a small doll in gloved hands. She looked at Milan, and then turned her head towards a tower on his left hand side to look up at a window. He followed her gaze and realized what she was doing. That was where Anastacia was. She was pointing him to his daughter.
A quick, quiet look was exchanged between the aberrant son and his grandfather and both knew all they needed to know. Milan stepped back and disappeared from their sight. Then he began making his way up to the tower that held his objective.
Klementina left the meditation room of her store where Daniel slept after a grueling hypnosis. Ordinarily, her subjects felt rested and energetic after such an exercise, but Daniel was different; he could never fully give himself over to her control. This was the reason for her failure to set Amerial free from his barrier, but she hadn’t known of the chains before. This was more than a mere barrier to break, there were shackles and chains holding the true personality down at the bottom of the bubble prison. This was just one more obstacle to overcome, all the while, keeping up the illusion of a caring and helpful woman. Tina was left feeling as though she was fighting a battle that she had no hope of winning, but fight she must. She could not allow Daniel to continue to live a life that did not belong to him. Looking back to the closed door, she resolved herself to work harder and follow through with the idea of seduction, no matter how difficult that path was to follow.
Already, she had cracked open the door with the tiny kiss she had given him, as well as the admission that she liked it. Daniel had looked at her with his typical closed off expression, but she wanted to hope there was an actual softness in his eyes. He had told her that he thought she was beautiful, so the physical attraction was there, she simply had to take advantage of it. Unfortunately for her, she had very little experience with men. Her past with Milan gave her very little to work with. Yes, they had a daughter, but she was created from one clumsy night eight years ago and while they were together again, their activities were far from romantic. One truth remained, Tina had no experience to pull from, but she must figure out a way. Perhaps Daniel could be charmed by her near innocence and want her because of it, and not in spite of it.
More and more, Tina had come to realize how much she relied upon Milan. Every time he left, she felt an emptiness within herself that could never be filled unless he was present. Even when he hid within the shadows and she could not see him, she always knew he was there simply through the feeling of oneness that he created. As she boiled down the herbs she had collected that day, she felt that hole as a dull ache, longing to share her doubts and fears with him so that he could make them all fade away into dust. It was his way to make everything seem possible, even when she could not see any answer.
Throughout the situation with Casliel and the shadows, he had been the logic to her irrationality - her guiding force through the ether. She had not had time to explain the newest development before he left
to find Anastacia, after the shadow described the illness that was soon to rack the child’s tiny body. Casliel needs Tina to enter another realm, full of lies and false illusions, to retrieve an object he needs. Before she can leave, she has to gather the materials to open the portal to this realm, and find another to carry the key while she is gone. Two of the items are easily obtained but the third is much more difficult; an object that is close to her heart. There is no material possession that fits that description so she was left wondering how to fulfill her burden of responsibility. Again, her mind wandered toward Milan, yearning for his arrogant smirk and unrelenting intelligence to tell her what to do - his perfection to match her own, his intelligence to coincide with her wisdom; the two halves of one beautiful whole.
Last edited by Iduna on Tue Oct 14, 2014 8:38 pm, edited 1 time in total.
