Eternal
With revenge filling every inch of your body you immediately open the carriage door with the intent of climbing up to meet your attacker. No sooner have you opened the door when a rotting hand from above attempts to stab you in the face with a dagger.
The blade superficially wounds you as it slices across your cheek. Unfazed you immediately grab the hand and pull down as hard as you can. The moment you do so you suddenly feel an unnatural drain of energy. Magic is definitely at work here and it’s sapping your strength. Despite this, the shadow tumbles off of the roof, but on its way down it grabs your own arm with its other hand and the pair of you fall from the carriage.
Unfortunately, when you’re pulled out of the carriage you don’t clear it completely and your ankle is run over by one of the back wheels of the carriage that is still in motion. The bone snaps and you know it’s broken along with your nose when you fell flat on your face on the hard road.
The shadow has recovered from his own fall much better having landed on his feet. You push yourself up just in time for his foot to kick you in the ribs. You roll away struggling to put some distance between yourself and the attacker.
“Y’know when I was brought back I was given very specific instructions not to kill you…but I believe I will ignore them. After all I’m already dead, what else can be done to me?” you hear the shadow hiss in a raspy tone.
You attempt to raise your hand to cast a flame blast, but the shadow grabs your wrist and you feel an even greater drain on your strength than you did before. At this close range you can smell the rot more strongly.
“Oh no, you burned me once before, not again.” The shadow hisses as it drains your energy. With its recent comments, you realize this isn’t just a shadow or even some undead horror possibly masquerading as one. It’s Cyrus.
Your whole body feels like its been beaten with a stone pillar yet you manage to muster the strength to pull your dagger and stab Cyrus repeatedly. You aren’t even aware of where you’re aiming, you stab it in the arm, in the shoulder, in the chest, in the face and wherever else you can reach until it lets you go and staggers back with your dagger still in its body.
You’re dizzy, weak, and have only one good foot, but try to stand up anyway. Cyrus pulls the dagger from his body and does his typical shadow speed tactic in an attempt to rush into you with the dagger. You barely manage to put up a small force shield to block the blade from going into your stomach. Still the impact of the hit knocks you back down to the ground breaking your concentration on the spell. Cyrus kneels down to grab your neck, he’s not even squeezing and you feel the life leaving your body. You start to fade in and out of consciousness.
“Now I’m going to show you something truly eternal. Death. They say the dead feel nothing, but that’s not true. It’s a lie just like the lie I believed about Dendrin meeting me for the afterlife. You know what I experienced instead? A very dark place filled with pain until I was ripped out of it and put back here on this mortal realm. That’s where you’re going brother. You’re going to a very dark place filled with pain and I’m going enjoy every moment putting you there.”
At this point you have no idea what the hell Cyrus is speaking about, all you know is he’s more talkative in death than he ever was in life and that if he’s going to kill you, you wish he’d just shut up and do it already.
Things get fuzzy again just as Cyrus’ fingers release your neck. What happens next is a blur. You do hear familiar female voice though.
“This one is not yours to take, revenant.”
This is followed by an inhuman scream and a bright light which is piercing even with your eyes nearly closed. Between the screaming, the bright light and your weakened state it’s all too much for you and start to pass out.
You see a female shape with long hair standing over you, but you can’t make out the face.
“…Alison?” you struggle to whisper.
“(Sigh) Blind to your true allies and lovers as always.” The figure says and then lays your dagger on your body. “Here, I know how much you treasure this gift to you.”
“Oh…fuck…” you say as you pass out.
You don’t know how long you’re out for, but when you come to you’re in a spare bed in the Emperor’s quarters. Your ankle and nose feel tender but they don’t feel broken anymore.
You look to your left and see the Emperor standing nearby with a walking stick in hand.
“Ah, you’re awake and looking much better too. You looked about as bad as I do when Jacob first dragged you in here.” The Emperor remarks, sitting in a chair near you.
“Jacob found me?”
“No, actually Warrick and some of the Eyes picked you up off the road when a travelling patrol reported coming across your body and an overturned carriage crashed into a tree a few feet away. I requested that you be brought to me personally when I heard the news. You were severely injured, and I was damned if I was going to let anyone else bumble in the attempt to help you get better.”
“Alison?” you ask.
“I’m sorry son, but she’s dead. If that bolt to the eye didn’t do it, her neck was broken in the crash.” The Emperor remarks.
You want to cry out, but you just don’t have the energy right now. You still feel woozy for one thing, the other is you had little hope that she was still alive anyway. The moment you saw that bolt in her eye, the moment you felt her blood on your face, the moment you felt her body go completely limp in your arms…you knew then she was dead.
“Did you need some time alone?” the Emperor asks.
“No…I suppose I already knew.” You respond. “I’m sort of overwhelmed by everything that happened. I imagine I will grieve later for her.”
“I know how much she meant to you. I know she was also a loyal soldier and officer. She will be missed not just by you, but also by the Empire as a whole. Whatever type of funeral you wish for her, you know you’ve got it. I mean if you want a holiday to…”
“That…isn’t necessary. I believe I will just have a simple funeral for her. She was like me, she didn’t seek out a lot of attention.”
“As you wish. Remember though, whatever you need. You got it.”
“Can you manage an execution for a certain svelk bitch?”
The Emperor starts one of his coughing fits before answering.
“I assume you’re talking about Mistress. Yes, I fear I did uncover some evidence that it was she that was behind all this chaos. How did you know about her involvement though? Is she the one that attacked your carriage?”
You explain to the Emperor what happened. He seems surprised to hear that the shadow wasn’t alive and was in fact undead. He concludes that Mistress must’ve raised Cyrus from the dead since she certainly has the skill to do it.
“Necromancy eh? Raising the dead is dangerous stuff to dabble in, especially when summoning something as powerful as a revenant. (cough cough) Very difficult to command something that’s dead, yet still control of most of the skills they possessed in their old life. Too willful. Still I didn’t think that even she would be insane enough to try something like this. Her obsession (cough) with you must be great indeed. I’m not even sure what she hoped to accomplish, other than more chaos and strife I suppose. Hmm, well I guess that does sound like a svelk.”
“All I know is she deliberately set this up. Her standing over me as if she was my savior. I’m not fucking fooled! Next time I see her, she’s dead!”
“Well unfortunately Miss Semra D’vessa has fled the Empire and who knows where she’s gone. There aren’t even many svelk mercs within borders of the Empire anymore. There still might be a few in Rask, (cough cough) if you’d like I could make that law to have all svelk executed on sight. Hell, I think I’ll do that anyway. Someone needs to take the blame for this and it’ll certainly make the citizens happy to have mass hangings of dark elves. I know the elves will love it.”
While the Emperor’s attempts to cheer you up with small acts of genocide are kind, you begin to feel the need to be by yourself. Your silence and your eyes looking downward are all the signs that the Emperor needs to take his leave.
“Don’t worry son. We’ll get her.” He says and then leaves you to your solitude.
You sit in bed for a long time trying to take everything in. Alison is gone. You’ll never see her smile, you’ll never feel her touch, you’ll never hear her voice, you’ll never enjoy anything involving her ever again. You almost feel like you don’t want to go on living and you never thought you’d ever feel something like that especially since survival has been beat and ingrained into your very being.
That isn’t the worst of it though. You didn’t even get revenge on the one that killed her. In fact her assassin would’ve killed you as well if you hadn’t been saved, but that’s still not the worst of it.
Semra…Mistress…svelk bitch…whatever you call her. She saved your life.
As far as you’re concerned that’s the worst of it. However you’ll get over it and grow stronger from this experience. You always do.
All it takes is time.
The blade superficially wounds you as it slices across your cheek. Unfazed you immediately grab the hand and pull down as hard as you can. The moment you do so you suddenly feel an unnatural drain of energy. Magic is definitely at work here and it’s sapping your strength. Despite this, the shadow tumbles off of the roof, but on its way down it grabs your own arm with its other hand and the pair of you fall from the carriage.
Unfortunately, when you’re pulled out of the carriage you don’t clear it completely and your ankle is run over by one of the back wheels of the carriage that is still in motion. The bone snaps and you know it’s broken along with your nose when you fell flat on your face on the hard road.
The shadow has recovered from his own fall much better having landed on his feet. You push yourself up just in time for his foot to kick you in the ribs. You roll away struggling to put some distance between yourself and the attacker.
“Y’know when I was brought back I was given very specific instructions not to kill you…but I believe I will ignore them. After all I’m already dead, what else can be done to me?” you hear the shadow hiss in a raspy tone.
You attempt to raise your hand to cast a flame blast, but the shadow grabs your wrist and you feel an even greater drain on your strength than you did before. At this close range you can smell the rot more strongly.
“Oh no, you burned me once before, not again.” The shadow hisses as it drains your energy. With its recent comments, you realize this isn’t just a shadow or even some undead horror possibly masquerading as one. It’s Cyrus.
Your whole body feels like its been beaten with a stone pillar yet you manage to muster the strength to pull your dagger and stab Cyrus repeatedly. You aren’t even aware of where you’re aiming, you stab it in the arm, in the shoulder, in the chest, in the face and wherever else you can reach until it lets you go and staggers back with your dagger still in its body.
You’re dizzy, weak, and have only one good foot, but try to stand up anyway. Cyrus pulls the dagger from his body and does his typical shadow speed tactic in an attempt to rush into you with the dagger. You barely manage to put up a small force shield to block the blade from going into your stomach. Still the impact of the hit knocks you back down to the ground breaking your concentration on the spell. Cyrus kneels down to grab your neck, he’s not even squeezing and you feel the life leaving your body. You start to fade in and out of consciousness.
“Now I’m going to show you something truly eternal. Death. They say the dead feel nothing, but that’s not true. It’s a lie just like the lie I believed about Dendrin meeting me for the afterlife. You know what I experienced instead? A very dark place filled with pain until I was ripped out of it and put back here on this mortal realm. That’s where you’re going brother. You’re going to a very dark place filled with pain and I’m going enjoy every moment putting you there.”
At this point you have no idea what the hell Cyrus is speaking about, all you know is he’s more talkative in death than he ever was in life and that if he’s going to kill you, you wish he’d just shut up and do it already.
Things get fuzzy again just as Cyrus’ fingers release your neck. What happens next is a blur. You do hear familiar female voice though.
“This one is not yours to take, revenant.”
This is followed by an inhuman scream and a bright light which is piercing even with your eyes nearly closed. Between the screaming, the bright light and your weakened state it’s all too much for you and start to pass out.
You see a female shape with long hair standing over you, but you can’t make out the face.
“…Alison?” you struggle to whisper.
“(Sigh) Blind to your true allies and lovers as always.” The figure says and then lays your dagger on your body. “Here, I know how much you treasure this gift to you.”
“Oh…fuck…” you say as you pass out.
You don’t know how long you’re out for, but when you come to you’re in a spare bed in the Emperor’s quarters. Your ankle and nose feel tender but they don’t feel broken anymore.
You look to your left and see the Emperor standing nearby with a walking stick in hand.
“Ah, you’re awake and looking much better too. You looked about as bad as I do when Jacob first dragged you in here.” The Emperor remarks, sitting in a chair near you.
“Jacob found me?”
“No, actually Warrick and some of the Eyes picked you up off the road when a travelling patrol reported coming across your body and an overturned carriage crashed into a tree a few feet away. I requested that you be brought to me personally when I heard the news. You were severely injured, and I was damned if I was going to let anyone else bumble in the attempt to help you get better.”
“Alison?” you ask.
“I’m sorry son, but she’s dead. If that bolt to the eye didn’t do it, her neck was broken in the crash.” The Emperor remarks.
You want to cry out, but you just don’t have the energy right now. You still feel woozy for one thing, the other is you had little hope that she was still alive anyway. The moment you saw that bolt in her eye, the moment you felt her blood on your face, the moment you felt her body go completely limp in your arms…you knew then she was dead.
“Did you need some time alone?” the Emperor asks.
“No…I suppose I already knew.” You respond. “I’m sort of overwhelmed by everything that happened. I imagine I will grieve later for her.”
“I know how much she meant to you. I know she was also a loyal soldier and officer. She will be missed not just by you, but also by the Empire as a whole. Whatever type of funeral you wish for her, you know you’ve got it. I mean if you want a holiday to…”
“That…isn’t necessary. I believe I will just have a simple funeral for her. She was like me, she didn’t seek out a lot of attention.”
“As you wish. Remember though, whatever you need. You got it.”
“Can you manage an execution for a certain svelk bitch?”
The Emperor starts one of his coughing fits before answering.
“I assume you’re talking about Mistress. Yes, I fear I did uncover some evidence that it was she that was behind all this chaos. How did you know about her involvement though? Is she the one that attacked your carriage?”
You explain to the Emperor what happened. He seems surprised to hear that the shadow wasn’t alive and was in fact undead. He concludes that Mistress must’ve raised Cyrus from the dead since she certainly has the skill to do it.
“Necromancy eh? Raising the dead is dangerous stuff to dabble in, especially when summoning something as powerful as a revenant. (cough cough) Very difficult to command something that’s dead, yet still control of most of the skills they possessed in their old life. Too willful. Still I didn’t think that even she would be insane enough to try something like this. Her obsession (cough) with you must be great indeed. I’m not even sure what she hoped to accomplish, other than more chaos and strife I suppose. Hmm, well I guess that does sound like a svelk.”
“All I know is she deliberately set this up. Her standing over me as if she was my savior. I’m not fucking fooled! Next time I see her, she’s dead!”
“Well unfortunately Miss Semra D’vessa has fled the Empire and who knows where she’s gone. There aren’t even many svelk mercs within borders of the Empire anymore. There still might be a few in Rask, (cough cough) if you’d like I could make that law to have all svelk executed on sight. Hell, I think I’ll do that anyway. Someone needs to take the blame for this and it’ll certainly make the citizens happy to have mass hangings of dark elves. I know the elves will love it.”
While the Emperor’s attempts to cheer you up with small acts of genocide are kind, you begin to feel the need to be by yourself. Your silence and your eyes looking downward are all the signs that the Emperor needs to take his leave.
“Don’t worry son. We’ll get her.” He says and then leaves you to your solitude.
You sit in bed for a long time trying to take everything in. Alison is gone. You’ll never see her smile, you’ll never feel her touch, you’ll never hear her voice, you’ll never enjoy anything involving her ever again. You almost feel like you don’t want to go on living and you never thought you’d ever feel something like that especially since survival has been beat and ingrained into your very being.
That isn’t the worst of it though. You didn’t even get revenge on the one that killed her. In fact her assassin would’ve killed you as well if you hadn’t been saved, but that’s still not the worst of it.
Semra…Mistress…svelk bitch…whatever you call her. She saved your life.
As far as you’re concerned that’s the worst of it. However you’ll get over it and grow stronger from this experience. You always do.
All it takes is time.