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sparkindarknessStill updating. I'm proud of me :). Now I just need to prod them a bit more - faster muses, faster!!!
As ever, all old installments in memories.
Nikolai was not helpful.
It was actually pretty unusual for him. I always remember him being jovial, in an older, wiser kind of way. Except when there was business then he became extremely serious, but he was rarely awkward and difficult to deal with.
Of course, he could just be upset because we were telling him so little, even the most amiable of Camaalis had enough pride to choke on. Liam was being very closed mouthed about this desperate prophecy that involved me. Another time I would have dragged that out of him, even if I had to possess him with daemons and torturous undead to make him reveal all. Now it just wasn’t important. I needed his skills here and fully functional to find Rick far more than I needed to know about this prophecy. Of course, the daemons and undead were always and option for later, if it became necessary.
“I want to know why he is still alive, Liam! Prisa told us he was dead, that you had succeeded, that you had avenged your coven. Now I see him here, healthy and even more dangerous than before.” His eyes darted between me and my cousin, like a trapped animal. One hand fiddled incessantly with the myriad ornaments woven into his hair - he was dressed extremely formally for the occasion. Over the top compensation for the scared and insecure? I smiled at him, a slow lazy smile. I didn’t have to look to know that Ahrimadan mirrored me. He swallowed convulsively and edged a little further away from. Perfect.
“He’s alive because he rose from the dead.” Liam began to sound a little strained. It amused me - no Seer liked being questioned.
“Prisa Saw him die.” Nikolai swung his head angrily, trying to glare at Liam and keep a wary eye on me at the same time.
“He did die. She Saw truly.”
“A temporary inconvenience.” I put in, trying to slow, lazy smile again.
“He is a Necromancer, Nikolai. You know they’re not easily killed.” Liam matched him angry sapphire glare to angry sapphire glare.
“Resurrection is an abomination!” His hair trophies chimed in outrage.
I laughed, a bitter, twisted sound even to my ears, but still a laugh, which as something all things considered. “An abomination - but only when it’s someone you dislike who has the bad taste to crawl out of his grave.”
Nikolai had the grace to blush, slightly. “Regardless, we should not be helping him! Why aren’t you trying to make him stay in his grave?”
“Inability?” Ahrimadan purred contentedly. Nikolai pointedly ignored him.
“I’m not trying to kill him because of what I have Seen.”
“Master Darren consuming his body while I feast on his soul.” Ahrimadan added, still purring happily. They both ignored him.
“I don’t like this, Liam. I don’t like it at all.”
“You don’t have to like it - I don’t particularly like it. But it’s better than the alternative. ‘Protect, Guide and Serve’ remember? That doesn’t stop when you have to do stuff you don’t like.”
“You have still not explained why I need to find this boy.”
“That’s because I‘m doing the Guiding. I just need you to stop bitching and start Serving. Seer’s will on that.”
Nikolai growled and glared. We had to tolerate another few minutes of bitching and whining and more than a few death threats (admittedly, from all parties. My patience was rapidly running out) before he finally acquiesced.
We managed to reach the scene of Rick’s disappearance (and my reappearance) without incident - well, unless you count near constant bickering and whining and some minor magical sniping, but that was pretty standard among any Camaalis gathering. Or most family gatherings of any kind for that matter.
I could hardly look at the site. My eyes rebelled against it. The earth seemed torn, but not like some earth mover has dug up the grass; it was more like a picture of a landscape had been painted onto glass, then the glass had been broken and pieced back together inexpertly. The earth wasn’t broken, the Earth was, and there’s a terribly huge difference between the two. In the middle of it was a scintillating dark mass of searingly bright shadowed… there was no way to describe it. No real way to even see it. Here the dimensions collided together in a roiling mass of power. I could see the power, almost, see threads that seemed familiar, lines from the lands of the dead or the infernal realms, but they were washed aside and overwhelmed by the chaos of alien realms I couldn’t even come close to understanding. To one side of the rip I saw something much more familiar, my eyes latching on to it for the comfort of the know. A dark, hungering mass of power. It would dissipate eventually, though it may take years for it to finally clear away and there’s always be a shivery spot there. A place which would come to be considered haunted - and since it was likely to attract or energise ghosts, it likely would become so. Now, at its height, it would hungrily suck the life force of anything that stood too close to it, draining them dry into a husk of dead flesh. Already all the plants around it were dead, excepting only the giant tree that had had my knife stuck within it. It was twisted, rotten. Corrupted in ways that no living thing should have to tolerate, tortured by the forces of the dead and the dark powers of Necromancy. It would die. Eventually. But then, wouldn’t all living things? I had no idea what my knife would do to it. And speaking of the knife…
I turned to Nikolai. He was gazing in surprise and deep studious concentration at the place where the realms collided. His eyes shied away from the dark spot left by my resurrection, instead concentrating on chaos that only a Shaman could understand - and not even all that. I stabbed him, a shallow cut in the arm.
He turned in shock, coming out of his half trance to try and call his power. Too late, I threw Sorcery down the knife, pushing roughly past the spirits who tried to raise a defence. It might have been impossible if I hadn’t cut his skin, but with that gash I could force my sorcery - the power of corruption, decay, destruction and evil into him. He yelled, pulling away from me, calling his magic, calling his spirits to save him… I felt my magic in his body now, corrupting, killing, destroying. I let it build, waited until I saw the fear rise in his eyes… then stopped. It felt like clenching a fist in my mind, but clenching it over the nozzle of a hose pipe. The water still pushed eagerly to come out, there was a huge pressure to force me to let go, but I held on, just… I couldn’t hold the spell back for long. I muttered a word. Not just any word - but a Word. In the language of naming I spoke the word for despair- but not so simply, nothing is ever simple in Naming. It was the despair of the inevitable, the despair of a delay before the end comes, and end you cannot stop or ameliorate. It was the wait before the axe fell, the last lingering hours on a sick bed, the last seconds on the bomb’s timer… The spell stopped, held. For now.
Liam grabbed Nikolai’s hand before he could raise his wand. “You kill him now and you’re as good as dead.”
“You Saw this and didn’t warn me?” Nikolai’s voice shook with rage and fear.
“Not until he’d already cut you, honest Nikolai. I was looking at that mass and how we’re going to survive it, it’s messing with my radar.”
“There is a spell in the wound - held in abeyance. It will kill you unless I cancel it. The holding spell is not permanent. I have to repeat it - or someone else has to, I suppose.” I paused to let them consider how easily they could find someone else who could reverse my spell or duplicate my holding spell.
“There are Camaalis who can.” Nikolai still half strained against Liam’s restraining hand.
“In America? Able to get here before my holding spell ends? Able to complete the reversal spell before it ends?” Merry doubt danced in my every word. “No, uncle. I hold your life in my hand. Don’t worry, I’m not doing this for amusement.”
“I protest Master Darren, it very much amuses me.” No-one could snicker like a cat.
“I do it for insurance. You have tried to kill me and Rick twice now. If I’m going to put my life in your hands I want to be sure you have an… incentive to be careful.”
Liam shrugged and let Nikolai go. “Sorry, uncle. If it‘s any consolation, if we get out of that,” he pointed at the tortured realms, “alive I do See a very good chance of him reversing his spell.”
“If not, Liam, you will have brought me to my death.” Nikolai turned abruptly and bent to his mystical ministrations, grudgingly accepting aid from Ghost to help him burrow through the techno shaman's weaving. Liam didn’t flinch, but you could see the effort it took him not to.
“You kill casually now, brother.” Katherine’s voice was still a ruin, but I could hear her sadness. It stung much more than I thought it could. “Before you would only kill when forced.”
“Perhaps I was forced too often, sister. Perhaps when necessity drives you to do something time and again it becomes natural, common, easy, casual.” I tried for neutral indifference, I got half-tearful accusation.
She turned her head away, as much as her ruined neck would let her.
“I’m not casual about it yet, sister. Not yet. But I will do anything to get Rick back - and if that means Nikolai dies, or Liam dies or you and Rhiannon die again or even if half the city dies - I will have him back. Believe me, I’m not even remotely casual about that.”
“It’s open.” Nikolai’s voice cut the uncomfortable silence most effectively. Bitterness can really give it an edge. I’d say I’ve made an enemy but it doesn’t really change things much, does it?
There was a tunnel through the rift now. A tunnel - how terribly incapable our language is at describing these things! Through that raging turmoil of indescribable, alien vision (and this was through a Cleric’s eyes, I can’t imagine what it looks like to everyone else) was a shining path of stability. Shining, yet dark and shadowed, like the light cast shadows and hid and concealed itself while still shining brightly. It lead up and in and through and down, but above all it lead beyond.
All that mattered was it lead to Rick.
As ever, all old installments in memories.
Nikolai was not helpful.
It was actually pretty unusual for him. I always remember him being jovial, in an older, wiser kind of way. Except when there was business then he became extremely serious, but he was rarely awkward and difficult to deal with.
Of course, he could just be upset because we were telling him so little, even the most amiable of Camaalis had enough pride to choke on. Liam was being very closed mouthed about this desperate prophecy that involved me. Another time I would have dragged that out of him, even if I had to possess him with daemons and torturous undead to make him reveal all. Now it just wasn’t important. I needed his skills here and fully functional to find Rick far more than I needed to know about this prophecy. Of course, the daemons and undead were always and option for later, if it became necessary.
“I want to know why he is still alive, Liam! Prisa told us he was dead, that you had succeeded, that you had avenged your coven. Now I see him here, healthy and even more dangerous than before.” His eyes darted between me and my cousin, like a trapped animal. One hand fiddled incessantly with the myriad ornaments woven into his hair - he was dressed extremely formally for the occasion. Over the top compensation for the scared and insecure? I smiled at him, a slow lazy smile. I didn’t have to look to know that Ahrimadan mirrored me. He swallowed convulsively and edged a little further away from. Perfect.
“He’s alive because he rose from the dead.” Liam began to sound a little strained. It amused me - no Seer liked being questioned.
“Prisa Saw him die.” Nikolai swung his head angrily, trying to glare at Liam and keep a wary eye on me at the same time.
“He did die. She Saw truly.”
“A temporary inconvenience.” I put in, trying to slow, lazy smile again.
“He is a Necromancer, Nikolai. You know they’re not easily killed.” Liam matched him angry sapphire glare to angry sapphire glare.
“Resurrection is an abomination!” His hair trophies chimed in outrage.
I laughed, a bitter, twisted sound even to my ears, but still a laugh, which as something all things considered. “An abomination - but only when it’s someone you dislike who has the bad taste to crawl out of his grave.”
Nikolai had the grace to blush, slightly. “Regardless, we should not be helping him! Why aren’t you trying to make him stay in his grave?”
“Inability?” Ahrimadan purred contentedly. Nikolai pointedly ignored him.
“I’m not trying to kill him because of what I have Seen.”
“Master Darren consuming his body while I feast on his soul.” Ahrimadan added, still purring happily. They both ignored him.
“I don’t like this, Liam. I don’t like it at all.”
“You don’t have to like it - I don’t particularly like it. But it’s better than the alternative. ‘Protect, Guide and Serve’ remember? That doesn’t stop when you have to do stuff you don’t like.”
“You have still not explained why I need to find this boy.”
“That’s because I‘m doing the Guiding. I just need you to stop bitching and start Serving. Seer’s will on that.”
Nikolai growled and glared. We had to tolerate another few minutes of bitching and whining and more than a few death threats (admittedly, from all parties. My patience was rapidly running out) before he finally acquiesced.
We managed to reach the scene of Rick’s disappearance (and my reappearance) without incident - well, unless you count near constant bickering and whining and some minor magical sniping, but that was pretty standard among any Camaalis gathering. Or most family gatherings of any kind for that matter.
I could hardly look at the site. My eyes rebelled against it. The earth seemed torn, but not like some earth mover has dug up the grass; it was more like a picture of a landscape had been painted onto glass, then the glass had been broken and pieced back together inexpertly. The earth wasn’t broken, the Earth was, and there’s a terribly huge difference between the two. In the middle of it was a scintillating dark mass of searingly bright shadowed… there was no way to describe it. No real way to even see it. Here the dimensions collided together in a roiling mass of power. I could see the power, almost, see threads that seemed familiar, lines from the lands of the dead or the infernal realms, but they were washed aside and overwhelmed by the chaos of alien realms I couldn’t even come close to understanding. To one side of the rip I saw something much more familiar, my eyes latching on to it for the comfort of the know. A dark, hungering mass of power. It would dissipate eventually, though it may take years for it to finally clear away and there’s always be a shivery spot there. A place which would come to be considered haunted - and since it was likely to attract or energise ghosts, it likely would become so. Now, at its height, it would hungrily suck the life force of anything that stood too close to it, draining them dry into a husk of dead flesh. Already all the plants around it were dead, excepting only the giant tree that had had my knife stuck within it. It was twisted, rotten. Corrupted in ways that no living thing should have to tolerate, tortured by the forces of the dead and the dark powers of Necromancy. It would die. Eventually. But then, wouldn’t all living things? I had no idea what my knife would do to it. And speaking of the knife…
I turned to Nikolai. He was gazing in surprise and deep studious concentration at the place where the realms collided. His eyes shied away from the dark spot left by my resurrection, instead concentrating on chaos that only a Shaman could understand - and not even all that. I stabbed him, a shallow cut in the arm.
He turned in shock, coming out of his half trance to try and call his power. Too late, I threw Sorcery down the knife, pushing roughly past the spirits who tried to raise a defence. It might have been impossible if I hadn’t cut his skin, but with that gash I could force my sorcery - the power of corruption, decay, destruction and evil into him. He yelled, pulling away from me, calling his magic, calling his spirits to save him… I felt my magic in his body now, corrupting, killing, destroying. I let it build, waited until I saw the fear rise in his eyes… then stopped. It felt like clenching a fist in my mind, but clenching it over the nozzle of a hose pipe. The water still pushed eagerly to come out, there was a huge pressure to force me to let go, but I held on, just… I couldn’t hold the spell back for long. I muttered a word. Not just any word - but a Word. In the language of naming I spoke the word for despair- but not so simply, nothing is ever simple in Naming. It was the despair of the inevitable, the despair of a delay before the end comes, and end you cannot stop or ameliorate. It was the wait before the axe fell, the last lingering hours on a sick bed, the last seconds on the bomb’s timer… The spell stopped, held. For now.
Liam grabbed Nikolai’s hand before he could raise his wand. “You kill him now and you’re as good as dead.”
“You Saw this and didn’t warn me?” Nikolai’s voice shook with rage and fear.
“Not until he’d already cut you, honest Nikolai. I was looking at that mass and how we’re going to survive it, it’s messing with my radar.”
“There is a spell in the wound - held in abeyance. It will kill you unless I cancel it. The holding spell is not permanent. I have to repeat it - or someone else has to, I suppose.” I paused to let them consider how easily they could find someone else who could reverse my spell or duplicate my holding spell.
“There are Camaalis who can.” Nikolai still half strained against Liam’s restraining hand.
“In America? Able to get here before my holding spell ends? Able to complete the reversal spell before it ends?” Merry doubt danced in my every word. “No, uncle. I hold your life in my hand. Don’t worry, I’m not doing this for amusement.”
“I protest Master Darren, it very much amuses me.” No-one could snicker like a cat.
“I do it for insurance. You have tried to kill me and Rick twice now. If I’m going to put my life in your hands I want to be sure you have an… incentive to be careful.”
Liam shrugged and let Nikolai go. “Sorry, uncle. If it‘s any consolation, if we get out of that,” he pointed at the tortured realms, “alive I do See a very good chance of him reversing his spell.”
“If not, Liam, you will have brought me to my death.” Nikolai turned abruptly and bent to his mystical ministrations, grudgingly accepting aid from Ghost to help him burrow through the techno shaman's weaving. Liam didn’t flinch, but you could see the effort it took him not to.
“You kill casually now, brother.” Katherine’s voice was still a ruin, but I could hear her sadness. It stung much more than I thought it could. “Before you would only kill when forced.”
“Perhaps I was forced too often, sister. Perhaps when necessity drives you to do something time and again it becomes natural, common, easy, casual.” I tried for neutral indifference, I got half-tearful accusation.
She turned her head away, as much as her ruined neck would let her.
“I’m not casual about it yet, sister. Not yet. But I will do anything to get Rick back - and if that means Nikolai dies, or Liam dies or you and Rhiannon die again or even if half the city dies - I will have him back. Believe me, I’m not even remotely casual about that.”
“It’s open.” Nikolai’s voice cut the uncomfortable silence most effectively. Bitterness can really give it an edge. I’d say I’ve made an enemy but it doesn’t really change things much, does it?
There was a tunnel through the rift now. A tunnel - how terribly incapable our language is at describing these things! Through that raging turmoil of indescribable, alien vision (and this was through a Cleric’s eyes, I can’t imagine what it looks like to everyone else) was a shining path of stability. Shining, yet dark and shadowed, like the light cast shadows and hid and concealed itself while still shining brightly. It lead up and in and through and down, but above all it lead beyond.
All that mattered was it lead to Rick.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-01 08:25 pm (UTC)Always good to have collateral.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-02 11:40 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-13 01:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-13 04:39 pm (UTC)It is nicely effective as well, isn't it?