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 Posted: Mon Apr 30, 2007 10:20 am
Finished. DO NOT DELETE. A warningThere will be mature content in this story. If gore, adult language, and implications of adult situations bother you, do us both a favor and don't read it. I've waited too long to write this to have to deal with any complaints about it. I will not change my writing to suit the tastes of others. Thank you. { it's too late to find a better way out of this}
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 2:26 pm
{Prologue}
The city was not burning, not yet. But there were screams, and cursing, a cacophony of voices and clattering armor and weapons. It was displaced from the real world, it felt. It was something out of the past, ancient history. It was a battlefield.
A gigantic expanse of wall reared up out of the earth, towering until it seemed it was holding up the dawn-reddened sky. There were monstrous things throwing themselves at the wall, trying to climb up it. Twisted arrows fell in volleys and cut the creatures down, though there were fresh ones eager to take their place, scrabbling at the rough stones climbing ever upward. The city behind the wall was brave in resisting, stubbornly defending. The soldiers of the city poured out of secret entrances, not daring to raise the main gate, and the army of monsters was flanked by soldiers who killed at will, without mercy.
And despite their bravery, they still fell back in momentary fear as a tall figure, masked and dressed in ancient armor, strode from the seething phalanx of withered and slavering creatures.
It was silent as death, the only sign of life oil-slick eyes that flicked over the faces of the city's soldiers. It raised a sword with a blade so twisted it seemed to writhe, all jagged angles and razor thin edges. It raised the sword and pointed into the crowd of soldiers, and silence fell over the horde behind it. A soldier, young and afraid and caught up in an insane moment of bravery, gripped his own sword tightly and burst from the stilled ranks, howling a hoarse battle cry and ran towards the masked creature. He was gutted and lay dead in the dirt before the cry had fully left his lips.
The mass of soldiers shouted in rage, but their noise was dwarfed by the screaming metallic roars of monsters as the ranks rushed forth, running past the masked one and throwing themselves at the ordered rows of soldiers. All hell broke loose. There were screams from both sides, though the soldiers of the city fought cleanly, killing and moving on. The monsters had no such dignity - they tortured, they ate, the taunted, they left their targets to suffer and find death elsewhere before moving on. The masked one fought as well, spinning, dodging, cutting, defending itself, never uttering a sound and those black eyes watching, watching...
Volley after volley of arrows fell, and the masked one staggered as two found their way past its thick jointed armor. It ripped them free, and the soldiers of the city gasped as they saw white fire bleed from it, spurting and flickering from the wounds
"Ehlkagir," the whispered word echoed. Spoken in hatred, as though the very name was poison. "Ehlkagir."
The lord of the house of fire. The death-bringer, conqueror. The creature that walked among men in the guise of flesh, enslaving its own family for some vague notion of revenge.
The soldiers of the city fought harder, in desperation, trying to reach the Ehlkagir. Monsters cut them down left and right until the ground was thick with the dead, and in their frenzy they cut down members of their own ranks. It was no longer simply battle, it was massacre. The long fight went on for hours, until the dim sun had risen and made the long rivers and stagnant pools of gore glimmer and sparkle horribly. Neither side had made any progress - hills and walls of dead were on either side. The city was gigantic, behind the wall, and it's soldiers were many. The monsters fought on, thoughtless if they lost limbs, crawling in the blood-made mud until they were completely unmade.
The Ehlkagir fought too, cutting its way through soldier after soldier. It's ghostly silence was terrifying. It made no guttural roar of victory as it killed, it simply moved on, one after the other after the other. And where it strode, it left a trail of spattered fire behind.
By the time night fell, the losses were nigh uncountable. The Ehlkagir shone like a beacon of cold white flame, silent and wounded and unrelenting. But the soldiers, hardened to the surrounding death, long past the fear of the silent conquerors unnatural army, saw that the masked creature was flagging. It gave opportunity to strike and wound before being slain, and soldier after soldier managed to get a cut in before they were stuck and slashed with the twisted sword.
The battle had raged almost into the next morning when the miracle happened.
A soldier, young as the first that was now only gnawed bones, found the Ehlkagir staggering. He pushed up his helmet, breath ragged in his throat. The creature had wandered into the fields of the dead, bent over and sword dragging. The soldier, stifled by his helmet, terrified to breathe too loud should the monster hear him, stepped over and on top of the dead, feet slipping over the slick cold gore. He raised his sword, eyes focusing with sharp clarity on the hunched figure. He crept closer, fear gripping him as the creature straightened, raising one hand to it's face. The soldier froze, shivering, and watched as the Ehlkagir shed it's mask. It gasped for air and flung it's head back, cowl slipping off. Long brow hair, dirtied by sweat and blood, spilled down. The soldier caught a glimpse of a young face, scarred and drawn as though in sickness, pale in the dim light of night.
A new slave, then. The old one had been a woman, with skin as white as bleached bone. The soldier shivered and sighed, and bit back a cry as the Ehlkagir's head snapped in his direction. The pain that showed on its face from its wounds transmuted into murderous rage, and the it rushed forward, sword raised. The soldier ran forward, not wanting to die cringing and trying to flee, and angled his sword towards the Ehlkagir's neck.
The twisted, cold sword sank deep into the soldier's stomach, running him through. His sword jarred in his hands at a sudden impact, and he slid, losing his balance and falling. Laying dying, gasping with the Ehlkagir's sword in his gut, he didn't see the damage he had done. A wave of some invisible force rippled the air in its forces as it soared over the battlefield, crashing against the wall and redoubling it's path over the fighting armies.
The army of monsters fell silent and froze in their steps as the wind passed over them, their weapons falling to the ground. The soldiers watched in fear, unsure. A moment later they covered their ears and shied away as howls and screams of grief so profound they seemed to shake the walls of the city rose from the hordes, and watched in awe as the monsters turned and fled, running and sliding over the bloody ground.
The Ehlkagir's headless body fell to it's knees, fire spent, clothing emptying of substance as the flesh within withered into dust, blowing away in the wind.
---
And countless miles away, in a different time, a different world, a different universe, Julian woke up in the dead of night, gasping, choking, soaked in cold sweat and trembling from a very, very vivid nightmare.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 2:41 pm
__Part 1
Crow began to notice the cold.
It was next to nothing, at first. An uncomfortable feeling, like a whisper of dread you feel when you're dying alone. She should know. She'd died alone once before. She shivered at that flicker of internal cold, and bundled up in blankets and assured herself it was nothing. She was used to being worried, to being anxious, to being afraid. Her mind was playing tricks on her, forcing something to be wrong to mar her happiness. She ignored the cold feeling inside, telling herself it was nothing at all.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 3:41 pm
__Part 2
The memories were splintered.
No matter how hard he tried, Julian could not fully remember his slavery, before Liam had brought him home. He could not remember those first dark months before the marque, before the evil that had spread accidentally from Crow had infested him. There were shades of recollections, shards of conversations and feelings and actions, but he couldn't truly remember. The marque had tamed him, in a way. He had never been a violent person before, and the marque had restored him to that. The memories after the marque were whole, and sharp, and clear. The fire had left him.
He found it troubling that the splintering was starting to happen again.
He remembered the journey to Mei-Vaar. He remembered the sick grief that had choked him, slowed him, made his mind clouded and tired. He had been quiet, aloof, not wanting to speak, to feel. He remembered the forest, and the guards...
And suddenly the memories broke apart. He was standing above a guard, speaking words he no longer remembered. Next he was walking up to the guards....next he was walking away, wondering why Crow was looking at him with such horror, why he was tracking blood...
He remembered Mela, remembered being disgusted by her demand in trade. But he couldn't remember his thoughts as he had fought with himself, the anger and the rage boiling over into something so much more dark.
The memories were splintered. And Julian worried over the change.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 3:56 pm
__Part 3
As the days trickled by and turned into one week, then two, Ethan began to notice the change. The siblings were quiet. The cheerful sniping and arguing, the pranks, the small loving kindnesses they shared so often were slowly fading away. Crow, even in the growing heat of early summer, was so often covered up and paler than was normal, even for her. With Julian, Ethan was reminded with distinct discomfort of Mei-Vaar, how quiet Julian had been, how calm he had seemed, before he had killed the guards. He supposed it was nothing at first. In the peace after the long, sad days past, he was sure they were just happy for the rest, the quiet.
He was dissatisfied with his theory, though he was almost afraid to ask the siblings about the shift. One evening he finally worked up the nerve, watching television with Crow leaning against him listlessly.
"Crow?" he said, murmuring. Crow shifted, blinking, looking up at Ethan as though she'd just realized he was there.
"Yeah, hon?"
"Are you..." he trailed off, feeling stupid for some reason. "Is everything alright?"
Crow's long in-drawn breath seemed like a sigh in reverse.
"Yeah. Just not feeling one hundred percent, that's all. Heh. Probably delayed shock from th' past couple weeks, y'know? All that stress'll really knock a person down."
Ethan was privately relieved to hear Crow sounding so much like herself. She sounded perfectly normal, despite the tired note in her voice.
"Are you sure? You seem ill," he said. Crow shifted against him, and he could feel the cool skin of her cheek pressed against his arm.
"Might be a bug," she said with a shrug. "My healing factor might be goin' all weird again. I dunno. It'll pass, I ain't worried."
She fell silent, curling up against him as though trying to take his warmth for herself. Ethan hesitated, then slipped an arm around her, holding her close to him as though trying to shield her from the cold.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 4:07 pm
__Part 4
He felt like he was living in slow motion. As Julian walked through the streets, returning home late, he felt as though the crowds around him milling past, talking, laughing and shouting, were going so much faster. He was aware of his every breath, every step. He felt as though he could feel his blood pulsing in his veins with every quiet beat of his heart. Every step felt as though he was walking in water. His mind felt pulled in a million different directions. He was anxious and almost afraid of the feeling, as though something was looking inside, reading his every memory as though it was a page from a book. Memories that were not clear to him, that he could not fully recall. He was tired, so tired. The days were dragging by and going by faster than he realized at the same time.
"Sick," he muttered to himself, almost in annoyance. Illnesses, injuries of the body, things he knew and could treat. He was sick. A virus, an infection, or maybe just exhaustion. "Exhaustion," he added, tasting the word. So much had gone on lately. So much fear, sadness, anger. Of course he was tired. It had been a trying few weeks...
....but that had been some time ago. Rabid was well. His family was well. So why wasn't he?
He found he was home, and went inside the familiar, welcoming building with infinite gratitude. He would sleep, and tomorrow he would wake and this tiredness would no longer be there. This feeling inside, that odd, displaced cold, would no longer be there.
And he would be well again.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 4:16 pm
__Part 5
It was so warm in the sun. Crow had gone out onto the grounds, feeling less tired for a change, bringing a blanket to lie on and a book to enjoy. She was currently using the book as a pillow, smiling faintly as the sun warmed her face, her body. The fleecy hoodie she'd taken to wearing lay discarded off to the side, stained and fraying at the cuffs from constant use - she'd even been sleeping in it.
Sighing, basking in the welcome warmth, Crow closed her eyes and sighed.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 4:20 pm
Hellis was wandering. Honestly, he had no intent but to explore the grounds around the big building he was living in. Indirectly, anyway.
And then he spotted a familiar figure.
He lunged forward, smiling, and sat cross-legged behind Crow's head, waiting.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 4:23 pm
Crow was so close to falling asleep again, she didn't even realize Hellis was there until she turned and bumped her head against his knee.
"Hn..." she said, eyes flicking open. She rolled to one side, yawning and stretching to see who was behind her. The name took a minute to come to her.
"Oh! Heya, Hellis," she said. "You surprised me."
This wasn't exactly true, but all the same she was happy for the company. Conversation, even one-sided conversation, would keep her awake. Nothing wrong with that.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 4:24 pm
Hellis waved slightly and then crawled forward, laying down and placing his head on her stomach. He peered up at her face as best he could. Huh...she was kinda chilly. Odd.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 4:29 pm
The warmth of Hellis's head almost seemed to burn on Crow's skin, and she shivered under it.
"Huh! There must be a bug goin' around worse then I thought," she said, mostly to herself. The touch felt almost feverishly hot to her. She shrugged it off, reclining luxuriously. "Wanderin', huh? It's nice enough to do it today, definitely."
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 4:33 pm
Hellis nodded. Jeez, whatever was wrong with Crow...
Eh. Not his problem unless she wanted to share. He cocked his head to one side, asking what she was doing out.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 4:37 pm
Not quite sure what Hellis was trying to ask, Crow made an intelligent kind of 'uh' sound before it clicked.
"Oh! Oh, I'm just hanging out'n crap," she said, running her fingers gently through Hellis's hair. Her touch was cold, though she didn't notice it. "It's so nice out today, figured I'd get out before I..." she cut herself off, yawning. "Huh! Sorry. Anyway. Wanted to get out in the sun and stuff. Cutting work like the horrible, horrible person that I am."
She giggled slightly at the thought, suddenly cheerful. The presence of cute would do that for a person.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 4:39 pm
Hellis shuddered suddenly and grabbed Crow's hand, staring at it for a moment before trying to warm it in his. His brow furrowed in concern, and he silently questioned if she was okay.
Hell, people weren't this cold when they were alive. Not usually, anyway.
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Posted: Tue May 01, 2007 4:42 pm
"Ah!"
The new warmth burned at Crow's skin, though she didn't try to take her hand away.
"I'm fine, sweetie," she said, smiling reassuringly. "Just stress and stuff! Ethan 'n all them've been on me for weeks, go see a doctor, blah blah...but! Julian said I was fine, so I'm fine. Just a bug or something, nothin' to fret over."
Still, her fingers wrapped around Hellis's hand, and she admitted fully the warmth was a comfort.
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