Author:
Mortelia and M'kar
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Date Posted: 13:27:30 04/20/02 Sat
In reply to:
Tilana
's message, "without you" on 13:30:48 04/16/02 Tue
The Lady of Death was no figment of Tilana's imagination. She had lingered around the Lair for the past few weeks, waiting. And now, feeding off the fear which her young successor exuded subconsciously, she found her way through the labyrinthine passageways, a dark, shrouded figure among the shadows cast by flickering lights.
M'kar pored over some mouldering texts he kept at his desk- old written histories of the Lairs. His self-appointed task was a long and tedious one- translating the barely-legible scrawl of the last historian onto reams of new paper in his own small, economical handwriting. Although most of it was standard, mandatory text, like inventories and wing rosters, some of the events that were recorded were interesting, and could not afford to be lost because of careless handling, such as these many stacks of musty balonrn hides had seen.
But every once and a while, he'd delve into the memories he'd acquired when he and Keira had shared one awareness, one mind. He knew it pained her to make her speak of her experiences, as much as it pained him, since he shared it with her. But the battles, and the Sect, and the Lady of Death... that could not all go unrecorded, and it was up to him to preserve those memories for all time. Now, he squinted at the paper in the dim light, having forgotten (once again) to restock his candle supply, and could not be drawn out of his rooms for so trivial a thing. The pen was carefully set to the paper, and he inked out several paragraphs of history about Highland Lair. He was distracted, suddenly, and he glanced up.
A shadow crossed the threshold to his quarters, and immediately, his senses were acutely aware of every detail, every small, menial thing in the room. He stood, setting down the pen, pushing the chair back under the desk. Quickly, catlike, he stalked out of the room, the door shutting with a soft, muted click. Brutisies, Kipyen, and Barronsaln were all fast asleep, silent in the back of his mind. With heightened awareness, he slipped through the halls after the dark figure, whom he percieved as a thin, gaunt shape. His fingers tingled with her supernatural energy, flickering greenly in the darkness. Something foul was afoot. He found it a wonder that the person didn't notice him, and got the distinct feeling that they were looking for someone else.
Tilana.
Mortelia stopped before the young woman's door. She pressed herself against it, hesitantly, and seemingly materialized through it. There was no better way to describe it- one second she was there, listening, and the next, she flickered and was gone. An easy trick for her.
M'kar snuck around the corner, approached Tilana's room, and fitted his ear against the door, listening to see if the person had entered. There had been no evidence of the door opening or closing.
"Without you
The ground thaws
The rain falls
The grass grows."
It was Tilana- and the words hadn't been spoken. That much he knew. They were amplified with such mental anguish that he percieved them as thoughts himself. But something was... off about them. It didn't sound quite like her, and he couldn't place it.
The stars gleam
The poets dream
The eagles fly
Without you
He caught it in the second phrase. There was an undertone to the words that Tilana was not responsible for- a soft, murmuring babble in a strange tongue. He knocked, hesitantly. There was no response.
"The earth turns
The sun burns
But I die
Without you..."
The murmuring grew louder, and he caught more of it- a sound that grated harshly in his ears. He identified the mental "signature" of the stranger's magic at work. And it was someone he cared not to see again... ever again.
He pounded on the door, shouting as loudly as he could for her to open it, not caring whom he woke. He had to get to her... he had to get inside. And soon. Or else, it might be too late...
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