Spark in Darkness # 61 - it rises
Feb. 5th, 2005 05:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparkindarknessI really should have merged all these into one. Things look far longer when they're scrippled down with a pen.
Still, onwards to the future and the darkness to come!
I stared at the broken ground and wondered whether it was just the currents of broken reality. Then the ground shifted again. The earth heaved and a single hand plunged from beneath the spoil like every cliched zombie moved you’d ever seen.
The hand was painfully followed by the rest of the naked body. Even through the fractured air, the body looked emaciated. The huge sucking wound in its chest was a well of glowing darkness and power.
It entered the fractured reality and I held my breath – this was the first test.
It threw back its head and screamed in agony. Most beings would have been torn to pieces by those ravaged lands. People just couldn’t survive it.
The thing’s pale skin deepened to a deep, ebon black, the same terrible black glow that rested within the terrible wound in its chest. The same power that denied death.
Its hair whirled around its head, its eyes somehow managing to cast shadows around the desolate land without shedding any lights. It shuddered and roared – anger now, not pain. Or a pain deeper than anything I knew, anyway.
I licked my lips and took a deep breath. This was it. The second test. “Guess it takes more than a stick of wood to kill a Necromancer, then.” There was only a slight quaver in my voice. I was proud of that.
Its head snapped frond, those eyes met mine and I took a step back without realising. Only my Seer training stopped me turning and running in terror. I don’t know what it was that kept me talking. Stupidity, probably.
“See, most people just think ‘Necromancer’ is a fancy word for ‘Medium,’” I tried for a light tone as the thing slowly walked towards me, fighting the broken ground.
“Shows what they know, right?” That light tone was really not convincing anyone. I couldn’t seem to stop it climbing the octaves. “Camaalis know better. We know Necromancer means master of all the realms of death and their powers. Bloody hard to kill, a Necromancer, if it doesn’t want to die. Of course, the question always was, how much did you want to die, Darren?”
The thing stopped. It studied me for a full minute in utter silence before it spoke. “I have something to live for.” I gasped in shock. The creature of ebon darkness and daemonic power spoke with Darren’s voice. Just a normal, human voice. I sighted with relief, the second test was passed – it was Darren.
“I thought you hated what you were?”
It began to advance again. Slowly. “I did and do. But there is more to me than darkness.”
I stepped back again. Ok, maybe twice. But I didn’t run. That’s got to be worth some serious kudos./ “Yes?”
“Yes. There is something in the darkness worth preserving. One spark that drives me to live and fight the dark.” And with that word, he crossed out of the broken ground and transformed. The darkness washed away, leaving him pale, beautiful - but normal. Daemon darkness was replaced with smooth white skin and those terrible eyes faded into the deep Camaalis blue – twins of my own. Only the well of darkness in his chest was still strange. That and the shining, vibrant glow of the tattoos around his neck, wrists and ankles.
He smiled. I think it was the only time I’d ever seen him smile. It froze me in place, just long enough for him to lay one perfectly normal hand next to my cheek,
“And now,” he said in that perfectly normal, educated voice. ”Why shouldn’t I kill you?”
Now it was time for the third test.
Still, onwards to the future and the darkness to come!
I stared at the broken ground and wondered whether it was just the currents of broken reality. Then the ground shifted again. The earth heaved and a single hand plunged from beneath the spoil like every cliched zombie moved you’d ever seen.
The hand was painfully followed by the rest of the naked body. Even through the fractured air, the body looked emaciated. The huge sucking wound in its chest was a well of glowing darkness and power.
It entered the fractured reality and I held my breath – this was the first test.
It threw back its head and screamed in agony. Most beings would have been torn to pieces by those ravaged lands. People just couldn’t survive it.
The thing’s pale skin deepened to a deep, ebon black, the same terrible black glow that rested within the terrible wound in its chest. The same power that denied death.
Its hair whirled around its head, its eyes somehow managing to cast shadows around the desolate land without shedding any lights. It shuddered and roared – anger now, not pain. Or a pain deeper than anything I knew, anyway.
I licked my lips and took a deep breath. This was it. The second test. “Guess it takes more than a stick of wood to kill a Necromancer, then.” There was only a slight quaver in my voice. I was proud of that.
Its head snapped frond, those eyes met mine and I took a step back without realising. Only my Seer training stopped me turning and running in terror. I don’t know what it was that kept me talking. Stupidity, probably.
“See, most people just think ‘Necromancer’ is a fancy word for ‘Medium,’” I tried for a light tone as the thing slowly walked towards me, fighting the broken ground.
“Shows what they know, right?” That light tone was really not convincing anyone. I couldn’t seem to stop it climbing the octaves. “Camaalis know better. We know Necromancer means master of all the realms of death and their powers. Bloody hard to kill, a Necromancer, if it doesn’t want to die. Of course, the question always was, how much did you want to die, Darren?”
The thing stopped. It studied me for a full minute in utter silence before it spoke. “I have something to live for.” I gasped in shock. The creature of ebon darkness and daemonic power spoke with Darren’s voice. Just a normal, human voice. I sighted with relief, the second test was passed – it was Darren.
“I thought you hated what you were?”
It began to advance again. Slowly. “I did and do. But there is more to me than darkness.”
I stepped back again. Ok, maybe twice. But I didn’t run. That’s got to be worth some serious kudos./ “Yes?”
“Yes. There is something in the darkness worth preserving. One spark that drives me to live and fight the dark.” And with that word, he crossed out of the broken ground and transformed. The darkness washed away, leaving him pale, beautiful - but normal. Daemon darkness was replaced with smooth white skin and those terrible eyes faded into the deep Camaalis blue – twins of my own. Only the well of darkness in his chest was still strange. That and the shining, vibrant glow of the tattoos around his neck, wrists and ankles.
He smiled. I think it was the only time I’d ever seen him smile. It froze me in place, just long enough for him to lay one perfectly normal hand next to my cheek,
“And now,” he said in that perfectly normal, educated voice. ”Why shouldn’t I kill you?”
Now it was time for the third test.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-05 07:20 pm (UTC)Me: Why are you 'woohoo'-ing? You mean to tell me you Like this bad guy?
Jarrod: Oh not at all! Not in the evil bastard that needs to die way. Course he needs to die. I'm just glad he doesn't die Yet. there's a difference.
Me: *rolls eyes* right right... you still want a crack at him I bet. Sorry Jarrod, wrong universe.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-06 11:41 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-06 11:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-02-07 09:59 am (UTC)