| Subject: *grins* Yay! Next part's INSIDE> |
Author:
Sekin Brightfall
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Date Posted: 23:23:28 01/02/04 Fri
In reply to:
haikugirl
's message, "Noooooow I get it..." on 21:18:50 01/02/04 Fri
“What happened to him? He wasn’t like this before the Stabnars took him!” The accusation in Grisen’s voice was too plain for any doubts. Sarvin stopped and turned her head slowly to face him. Her eyes burned.
“I had no part in his capture.”
Grisen’s eyes narrowed in rage. “Of course you did! You were a Stabnar and those were the ones that got him!”
Sarvin’s face twisted in a feral snarl. “There were only sixteen Stabnars when the Blade of Light was in power! I was not one of them!”
“But you must know what happened to him!” Grisen’s voice was as harsh as hers was.
Sarvin looked at him. Only looked when Grisen had believed she would bite. Her eyes shone more brightly than before, as bright as a bird’s eyes, too bright to be considered normal. Finally, she nodded. “I do.”
“What then?”
Sarvin began to stride off again through the trees and Grisen leapt after her. Without even turning her head or sparing him a glance Sarvin asked quietly, “What do you remember about the Blade of Light?”
Grisen’s laugh sounded horribly forced. “Almost everything. It only happened two years ago…I remember him being a great leader, among other things. When five out of every seven people were cursing the Black Lord’s name and were afraid to do even that, he came right out and said it. Said it for all to hear. He wasn’t afraid, he never was afraid, even when his name was given to the Stabnars for them to hunt him down. He was a soldier and a warrior! He gathered the rebels in his village and called for more to come from other towns. He trained us, talked among our ranks about determination, fortitude, and honor. He drove the Radgem from the town and built up his defenses against the growing storm. He raised the Banner of the Light and let it fly proudly. I talked with him more than once, along with the other Captains. He was strong, willful, and damn stubborn! So stubborn, one could expect a stone to break before he did. He knew what needed to be done and he did it.”
“And then?” Sarvin’s tone was carefully controlled.
Grisen’s face hardened. “And then the Stabnars came. They surrounded the city and the Shadowriders came clawing and soaring up over the walls. The Stabnars and Radgem entered next, pouring in through the defenseless gates. The Blade of Light positioned us at the main intersections of the city in cunning traps and with his he waited, as the Dark One’s army burrowed deeper into the city. When his word was given, we sprung the traps…and lost the battle. Only a handful of the Falkhan survived the slaughter and the Blade of Light was taken.”
Sarvin turned to the west, patrolling in a wide circle around the wall. Her heavy boots made literally no sound on the dead leaves and she seemed to blend in with the lengthening shadows as the sun sank down below the horizon. One gloved hand clutched her sword’s pommel stone. “He was broken Rolark.” Her gaze seemed to see everything but him. “Broken like I was in Tyrin’al’sin.”
Grisen’s eyes narrowed at the choking words of Dama’zark’s tongue which gnashed against his teeth hideously, but rolled from Sarvin’s mouth so easily. “Tyrin’al’sin?”
Sarvin’s nod was her briefest yet and when she turned to face him, a horrible smile barred her teeth maniacally. Her eyes sparkled. “Yes, Tyrin’al’sin. The World of Dreams where your nightmares are robed in flesh and you are imprisoned in your terror, unable to wake!”
Grisen stared at her in shock. The insane smile seemed to broaden and Grisen wanted to shake her, to hit her, to make it disappear.
Sarvin shook her head slightly, and the smile slipped and vanished though her eyes remained unchanged. She seemed to become more in control of herself and when she spoke again; her voice was quieter and not so harsh. “Dama’zark or the Black Lord as you call him, was human once…Before he was aware of the Flows. He was born with a natural gift or curse, Weaving.” Raising the hand that wasn’t clutching her sword hilt, she gestured around at the forest. “The Flows are everywhere. What they are, are the traces of old magic, magic used tens of thousands of years back, when using magic was commonplace. Mages were actually trained in vast academies. Trained! Only a small percentage of the population couldn’t handle the magic. It was a time of myths, a time of wonder. Beautiful forests of gold and silver were raised as decoration, oceans were drained to make way for cities, curse for any sickness could be found…It is rumored even the weather was controlled, the sun could rise at midnight, the moon could shine at midday. Snow would fall in summer, heat would shimmer in mid-winter!”
Sarvin laughed. “Now that I would like to see! Not even Dama’zark can bend the elements to his will, though he’s tried numerous times.”
Grisen frowned slightly. “What happened then? Obviously something happened, otherwise everyone would be able to handle magic today….Dama’zark wouldn’t be in power either.”
Sarvin turned her head, furthering the appearance of a bird, studying Grisen with one of her shiny eyes. “Are you sure about that Rolark? Dama’zark is more powerful than you can imagine. He’s stronger maybe than the strongest mages all those thousands of years ago, and they were the most powerful Weavers ever. Weaving is what we call the ability to shape and use magic,” she added.
With a snap crack of brittle leaves, a rabbit shot out of a dying bramble patch, right across their path in a blur of molted gray and brown fur. Before it could reach the safety of an adjacent Bloodberry bush, a knife twirled from Sarvin’s hand like a speeding dart, and buried itself up to the hilt in the rabbit’s side. The animal collapsed in a twitching heap, seeming to blend in with the leaves. Sarvin strode unhurriedly on, bending down gracefully to pick up her quarry. Whipping the knife out, she didn’t even bother to clean it before making it vanish somewhere up her sleeve like a magician’s prop. The rabbit she hung by the hind legs from her belt, and continued on, the carcass swinging at her side in time to her stride.
Grisen blinked heavily at her speed, and then trotted to catch up. ‘What have I gotten myself into?’ he thought bitterly. ‘First Shadowriders and then Stabnar. But Fyrth…He IS the Blade of Light! I’ve found him! And he can…’ but there his thought trailed off. What could Fyrth do? Fight Dama’zark and bind the nations together for the final war? Not likely. Sarvin had said he had been broken. He did seem changed…crazy maybe. He had no doubt about Sarvin. Crazy definitely. Crazy rebel Stabnars…what next?
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