Kahlan glanced up, the dark woods behind her creating a perfect backdrop to her pale skin. She smiled, her full lips parting slightly as she expelled a sigh. That she was regal, there was no doubt. Kahlan smiled as she walked to Vylrath and stopped at the base of the steps. This way the man, now aging once again, could be a few inches taller than her. She tilted her chin up to see his face. She was glad that he was alright and that the power had not completely consumed him.
"Hello Vylrath." There was a soft seductive quality to Kahlan's voice as she spoke to Vylrath alone. It was the first time that they had time to themselves since he'd left after their last bedding. She took the last few steps to him and slipped inside. She felt her daughter's presence about the time Vylrath stiffened. Her hand brushed Vylrath's as she moved past him. Without giving the action much thought, Kahlan turned back to the old demon and planted a soft kiss on one of his cheeks. It was nice to see him somewhat sane.
"It would seem Willow and her lover are here. I don't think you have anything to worry about, though Willow will attempt to kill you." As if remembering that Vylrath had never met her daughter, Kahlan laughed lightly and shook her head. "She looks somewhat like me, but with a sour disposition. She thinks you have usurped her father in my heart. She knows very little about her father -- and she lost Theoren when she was very young. She adored him. Mikhael has been a steady male influence in her life, and for that I regret not remarrying."
She knew that the moment Mikhael was within sight Vylrath would know that he was a full blood demon. He would understand her misgivings about her daughter's love, but that she couldn't be entirely hypocritical because of her own desires and offspring.
"All I ask is that you do not kill her."
----------------
"I wouldn't have it any other way, love." Mikhael took Willow by the hand and lead her up the path toward the temple. There was a strange energy emitting from that edifice that Mikhael could not put a finger on. It wasn't out-right evil, and it didn't seem to be inherently good either. However, much to his chagrin, Mikhael felt Kahlan's presence.
Great.
The old demon was warned.
A change of tactics then.
"Listen, love. We've run into a bit of a problem. It would seem that your loving mother has decided to visit her lover." If Willow wasn't extremely dense she would figure how much of a problem that really posed for them. The element of surprise was lost. Their identities would no doubt have been divulged, and that took the fun out of it for Mikhael. He wasn't sure how long this Vylrath had been out of Hell or if he would even know who Mikhael was. It had been a while since Mikhael had been in Hell himself -- so there was no real surety as to how the cards would fall. However, a son of Gaar was never mistaken! Perhaps this Vylrath would cower in fear of his bloodline once it was exposed.
Mikhael had no clue who Vylrath was, and that was his misfortune.
"Come along then." He tugged at Willow's arm as they rounded a bend in the trail and the temple came into full view. He watched Kahlan kiss the demon and he narrowed his eyes. Vylrath wasn't all imposing and he vaguely wondered what the hell Kahlan saw in the midget.
"Hullo, there!" Mikhael waved his free arm in a sign of peace. "We're travellers that have lost our way. Can you tell us where we have landed?"
There was no hiding the demon that Mikhael was as he stepped into the clearing. His dark blue black hair glistened in deep contrast to the dark woods surrounding the temple. Mikhael smiled, but it was more the look of a vicious predator than a genuine traveller. His pale green eyes were genuine but calculating, watching everything that moved while keeping Willow behind his body and to the right.
Dystopia
Sanctuary
Moderator: Jen
31 posts • Page 2 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
Re: Sanctuary
by Jen on Sun Mar 22, 2009 7:03 pm
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Jen - C-Rank Porn Star
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Re: Sanctuary
by Vylrath on Sun Mar 22, 2009 8:42 pm
The use of weaponry was foreign to her. She had only been taught mannerisms of the court life. The old demon stood by her mother, a mockery of everything Ulster had been created for. With the greetings being given, she hastily pushed past Mikhael.
When she brushed against him, she grabbed for the blade that rested at his hip. With trembling fingers, she made a run for the man standing next to her mother. From Vylrath’s view, it might almost look like she was trying to attack her mother, but luckily he had been warned about their intentions.
The dagger was raised at a point, so that it would penetrate him in the side- normally killing a mortal man. To her dismay, the blade would never reach even the surface of his skin. His movements would be too fast for her to comprehend in her mortal life.
Vylrath had, however, been distracted by Kahlan. The blade did in fact reach his side, but the pain was met with a quick blow to his attacker.
I promised I wouldn’t kill her, but I’ll be damned if I can help myself…
Instead of ending her life, he snapped the arm that had rushed at his side. The sound of bones breaking would be heard by everyone – it would end the bitch’s attempt at his life, but not necessarily severe ties with Kahlan. She would have a wounded pride and maybe attempt again- but not today.
Willow lay on the ground in pain, her arm throbbing and her mind screaming in frustration. Before the demon could react to the dagger in his side, she reached for it and pulled it out of its fresh wound. She became covered in his blood.
The anger grew from his pain- he couldn’t feel betrayed by Kahlan, but by the arrogant demon that dared to step foot on his land and provide his attacker! Grabbing Willow by her neck, he raised her above the ground so that she had to fight to just breathe.
“I ought to kill you…but you are better off dead…you have my blood on your mortal skin! By your ignorance, I doubt you even know what that means!” His eyes flashed toward Kahlan, who would no doubt, have the final word.
He could care less about Mikhael at this moment, but his mind did wonder about his presence.
“She is your blood Kahlan…you warned me, but you owe me her life! I did not attack any of the children and kept my bargain!”
When she brushed against him, she grabbed for the blade that rested at his hip. With trembling fingers, she made a run for the man standing next to her mother. From Vylrath’s view, it might almost look like she was trying to attack her mother, but luckily he had been warned about their intentions.
The dagger was raised at a point, so that it would penetrate him in the side- normally killing a mortal man. To her dismay, the blade would never reach even the surface of his skin. His movements would be too fast for her to comprehend in her mortal life.
Vylrath had, however, been distracted by Kahlan. The blade did in fact reach his side, but the pain was met with a quick blow to his attacker.
I promised I wouldn’t kill her, but I’ll be damned if I can help myself…
Instead of ending her life, he snapped the arm that had rushed at his side. The sound of bones breaking would be heard by everyone – it would end the bitch’s attempt at his life, but not necessarily severe ties with Kahlan. She would have a wounded pride and maybe attempt again- but not today.
Willow lay on the ground in pain, her arm throbbing and her mind screaming in frustration. Before the demon could react to the dagger in his side, she reached for it and pulled it out of its fresh wound. She became covered in his blood.
The anger grew from his pain- he couldn’t feel betrayed by Kahlan, but by the arrogant demon that dared to step foot on his land and provide his attacker! Grabbing Willow by her neck, he raised her above the ground so that she had to fight to just breathe.
“I ought to kill you…but you are better off dead…you have my blood on your mortal skin! By your ignorance, I doubt you even know what that means!” His eyes flashed toward Kahlan, who would no doubt, have the final word.
He could care less about Mikhael at this moment, but his mind did wonder about his presence.
“She is your blood Kahlan…you warned me, but you owe me her life! I did not attack any of the children and kept my bargain!”
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Vylrath - C-Rank Porn Star
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Re: Sanctuary
by Shin on Sun Mar 22, 2009 9:23 pm
There was so much going on right now, much more then Trydian could get a grasp on. There were people here, mortals and demons alike entering the sanctuary, or what he had been lead to believe was a sanctuary. So many people had come one after the other that Trydian didn't think it could be a coincidence, when powerful beings met it often ended badly. But if the 'bad stuff' were to happen to Vylrath....
Only a smile could betray Trydians thought as he sat before his grandmother. Normally he would adhere to her request, actually he was very proud of what he had learned thus far and while he could not be compared to several of the others in his presence he was learning ways to manipulate shadows much more quickly then any he had heard of before.
He was on his feet instantly. His miss-matched eyes lingered on his grandmother for only a moment, she already knew what he was sensing, and despite all the bodies gathered her presence was the strongest to him. Sebilla was here. Like the others here he had learned to move himself through the shadows, an extremely quick way of transporting oneself from one place to another.
It took but a moment and Trydians form, looking like a shadow for only a brief moment, would seep from the walls a few meters in front of Sebilla before solidifying into his normal self.
"Sebilla!" Trydian didn't slow just because he had come out of the shadows, no, he moved straight to his sister wrapping her in hug. From where he was standing, cloaked only by the natural shadows of the building, he could make out Vylrath and Kahlan. "Do tell me Sister, how have you been? You look wonderful!"
Trydian wanted to march his sister straight to where he had been, then they could all sit down and not worry about what mess Vylrath was getting himself into. But he could not, the moment he set his gaze on the the man, his father, Trydians blood began to boil. He hated that man.
Only a smile could betray Trydians thought as he sat before his grandmother. Normally he would adhere to her request, actually he was very proud of what he had learned thus far and while he could not be compared to several of the others in his presence he was learning ways to manipulate shadows much more quickly then any he had heard of before.
He was on his feet instantly. His miss-matched eyes lingered on his grandmother for only a moment, she already knew what he was sensing, and despite all the bodies gathered her presence was the strongest to him. Sebilla was here. Like the others here he had learned to move himself through the shadows, an extremely quick way of transporting oneself from one place to another.
It took but a moment and Trydians form, looking like a shadow for only a brief moment, would seep from the walls a few meters in front of Sebilla before solidifying into his normal self.
"Sebilla!" Trydian didn't slow just because he had come out of the shadows, no, he moved straight to his sister wrapping her in hug. From where he was standing, cloaked only by the natural shadows of the building, he could make out Vylrath and Kahlan. "Do tell me Sister, how have you been? You look wonderful!"
Trydian wanted to march his sister straight to where he had been, then they could all sit down and not worry about what mess Vylrath was getting himself into. But he could not, the moment he set his gaze on the the man, his father, Trydians blood began to boil. He hated that man.
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Shin - Almost Famous
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Re: Sanctuary
by Jen on Mon Mar 23, 2009 8:21 am
"Trydian!" Sebilla hugged her brother as tight as she could muster and smiled up at him. Her haunting silver eyes followed his gaze as his hug stiffened around her shoulders. She knew he hated Vylrath because of all the awful things he had done to their family. Sebilla tugged on her brother's shoulder to get his attention.
"I'm doing fine. Kahlan brought me home herself. She said you and mother would be worried about me." Sebilla pushed her thin fingers through her thick black hair and peered over her shoulder at her grandfather before resting her head on her brother's chest. It was a simple and sisterly action to show him how much she had missed him. They were rarely apart for longer than a few hours and so anything longer than that felt like she was losing part of herself.
"Trydian! Don't worry about Grandfather. He's not going to hurt us..." Then she smelled the blood. It seemed like she'd smelled the strangely sweet scent before -- and she had when her mother had been turned. Someone had spilled Vylrath's blood.
"Grandfather!" Sebilla struggled against her brother's arms. She had no reason, yet, to hate Vylrath so readily as her brother. He looked like he needed help, but she knew her brother wouldn't let her so close to him willingly. "He's hurt!"
---------------------------
"Put her down, Vylrath." Kahlan stepped around Vylrath, studiously avoiding his blood, and snatched the dagger from her daughter's good hand.
"You disgrace me, child." Kahlan bent down and wiped Vylrath's blood off the knife on a piece of clean clothing left to Willow. Her eyes watched her daughter's pain for a moment before she sighed. The effort of the sigh changed Kahlan's profile almost instantly. What was once green now became white. What once had been red gold hair, now was bright platinum blonde. Eyes that had been forest green, were now grey. There was a hint that there should be wings, and if she moved through the golden light showering through the clearing, there would be the vaguest of outlines suggesting that she was not completely changed for the safety of all those with demonic heritage.
Kahlan grabbed an ewer of water from one of the cisterns full of rainwater and dumped it on her daughter rather unceremoniously. She repeated this four more times until Vylrath's blood was washed from Willow's body. Only when the blood was gone did Kahlan kneel at her daughter's side and rest her hands on her daughter's shattered arm. She concentrated for a few minutes, sitting as still as a statue, probing the wound with her mind so there would be no extra pain.
"Its broken rather nastily." She seemed to call over her shoulder at Vylrath, who would no doubt stay his distance from her in this form. At least he hadn't killed Willow outright. She had been wise to ask him to hold his hand.
"Willow, do not move. While I fix your arm you must remain very still, otherwise the bones will not mend properly and the arm will have to be reset." Kahlan bent over her daughter's arm in deep thought, piecing together her daughter's arm one bone fragment at a time. The entire process would take about ten minutes because the fragments were fairly large and the arm was not completely shattered to bits. She had healed worse and spent days recouperating because this power was not one she relied on often.
Kahlan's lips moved fast and silent as she murmured arcane things from times long past to help the bones mend and fit back together. Her eyes were closed and her brow drawn down in concentration. Kahlan's long hair created a shield between the world, her daughter, and herself. They were alone beneath the shower of platinum, a warmth of light emitting from Kahlan herself -- but her eyes never opened and she never acknowledged her daughter.
-------------------------
"Vylrath!" Isabella rushed into the room and took the old demon by the hand and pulled him back from the door. Her hands fluttered over his side as she lifted his shirt to look at the wound. It was bleeding still but not nearly as badly as it had been. She'd smelled the blood and saw the blood pour through some of the minds gathered. She pressed her hand firmly against the wound and looked at her ex husband.
"How do you feel? Besides pissed off, I mean." Isabella pulled Vylrath to one of the indoor cisterns they used to hold rainwater and began washing the knife wound clean. "It is beginning to heal, and it should heal clean. I don't think you will have much of a scar -- her aim was clean enough."
------------------------
Mikhael saw red as he grabbed at his boot knife. If Kahlan hadn't been in the way healing Willow...
"You bastard!" Mikhael called to Vylrath as he paced just out of range of Kahlan's aura. It was very uncomfortable to be around her like this. It didn't hurt per-se but it didn't feel fantastic either. "How dare you harm the mate of a son of Gaar!"
No doubt this Vylrath would know who Gaar was, and then he would have much to fear! For now, though, Mikhael paced back and forth like a caged wolf -- unwilling to pass by Kahlan through fear of interrupting her healing of Willow.
---------------------
When the healing was most of the way done, Kahlan took the knife that Willow had pierced Vylrath with and drew it across her forearm. Thick pearlescent blood seeped from the wound though Kahlan made no face to show that it might hurt at all. She tossed the knife to the side, her pearlescent blood turning black as death itself when it hit the temple wall, and pressed her free hand into the blood seeping down her arm. Kahlan opened her eyes and pressed her first two fingers against Willow's forehead and pulled them lightly down the bridge of her nose, separating them to smear the blood across the girl's cheeks.
Without warning, the serenity of her face giving nothing away, Kahlan pressed her bloody forearm against Willow's mouth, smearing the blood across her lips and nose. It would smell faintly of roses and sage, the sign of a blessing, Angels, and protection. Willow would ingest some of the blood, but it wouldn't taste like blood and it would do nothing but negate the effects of Vylrath's blood should she have taken any into herself on accident.
Mikhael, on the other hand, probably wouldn't be able to touch her for a few minutes until it dried. This blood would also dry black on Willow's pale skin.
"Think twice before you shame me again, child."
"I'm doing fine. Kahlan brought me home herself. She said you and mother would be worried about me." Sebilla pushed her thin fingers through her thick black hair and peered over her shoulder at her grandfather before resting her head on her brother's chest. It was a simple and sisterly action to show him how much she had missed him. They were rarely apart for longer than a few hours and so anything longer than that felt like she was losing part of herself.
"Trydian! Don't worry about Grandfather. He's not going to hurt us..." Then she smelled the blood. It seemed like she'd smelled the strangely sweet scent before -- and she had when her mother had been turned. Someone had spilled Vylrath's blood.
"Grandfather!" Sebilla struggled against her brother's arms. She had no reason, yet, to hate Vylrath so readily as her brother. He looked like he needed help, but she knew her brother wouldn't let her so close to him willingly. "He's hurt!"
---------------------------
"Put her down, Vylrath." Kahlan stepped around Vylrath, studiously avoiding his blood, and snatched the dagger from her daughter's good hand.
"You disgrace me, child." Kahlan bent down and wiped Vylrath's blood off the knife on a piece of clean clothing left to Willow. Her eyes watched her daughter's pain for a moment before she sighed. The effort of the sigh changed Kahlan's profile almost instantly. What was once green now became white. What once had been red gold hair, now was bright platinum blonde. Eyes that had been forest green, were now grey. There was a hint that there should be wings, and if she moved through the golden light showering through the clearing, there would be the vaguest of outlines suggesting that she was not completely changed for the safety of all those with demonic heritage.
Kahlan grabbed an ewer of water from one of the cisterns full of rainwater and dumped it on her daughter rather unceremoniously. She repeated this four more times until Vylrath's blood was washed from Willow's body. Only when the blood was gone did Kahlan kneel at her daughter's side and rest her hands on her daughter's shattered arm. She concentrated for a few minutes, sitting as still as a statue, probing the wound with her mind so there would be no extra pain.
"Its broken rather nastily." She seemed to call over her shoulder at Vylrath, who would no doubt stay his distance from her in this form. At least he hadn't killed Willow outright. She had been wise to ask him to hold his hand.
"Willow, do not move. While I fix your arm you must remain very still, otherwise the bones will not mend properly and the arm will have to be reset." Kahlan bent over her daughter's arm in deep thought, piecing together her daughter's arm one bone fragment at a time. The entire process would take about ten minutes because the fragments were fairly large and the arm was not completely shattered to bits. She had healed worse and spent days recouperating because this power was not one she relied on often.
Kahlan's lips moved fast and silent as she murmured arcane things from times long past to help the bones mend and fit back together. Her eyes were closed and her brow drawn down in concentration. Kahlan's long hair created a shield between the world, her daughter, and herself. They were alone beneath the shower of platinum, a warmth of light emitting from Kahlan herself -- but her eyes never opened and she never acknowledged her daughter.
-------------------------
"Vylrath!" Isabella rushed into the room and took the old demon by the hand and pulled him back from the door. Her hands fluttered over his side as she lifted his shirt to look at the wound. It was bleeding still but not nearly as badly as it had been. She'd smelled the blood and saw the blood pour through some of the minds gathered. She pressed her hand firmly against the wound and looked at her ex husband.
"How do you feel? Besides pissed off, I mean." Isabella pulled Vylrath to one of the indoor cisterns they used to hold rainwater and began washing the knife wound clean. "It is beginning to heal, and it should heal clean. I don't think you will have much of a scar -- her aim was clean enough."
------------------------
Mikhael saw red as he grabbed at his boot knife. If Kahlan hadn't been in the way healing Willow...
"You bastard!" Mikhael called to Vylrath as he paced just out of range of Kahlan's aura. It was very uncomfortable to be around her like this. It didn't hurt per-se but it didn't feel fantastic either. "How dare you harm the mate of a son of Gaar!"
No doubt this Vylrath would know who Gaar was, and then he would have much to fear! For now, though, Mikhael paced back and forth like a caged wolf -- unwilling to pass by Kahlan through fear of interrupting her healing of Willow.
---------------------
When the healing was most of the way done, Kahlan took the knife that Willow had pierced Vylrath with and drew it across her forearm. Thick pearlescent blood seeped from the wound though Kahlan made no face to show that it might hurt at all. She tossed the knife to the side, her pearlescent blood turning black as death itself when it hit the temple wall, and pressed her free hand into the blood seeping down her arm. Kahlan opened her eyes and pressed her first two fingers against Willow's forehead and pulled them lightly down the bridge of her nose, separating them to smear the blood across the girl's cheeks.
Without warning, the serenity of her face giving nothing away, Kahlan pressed her bloody forearm against Willow's mouth, smearing the blood across her lips and nose. It would smell faintly of roses and sage, the sign of a blessing, Angels, and protection. Willow would ingest some of the blood, but it wouldn't taste like blood and it would do nothing but negate the effects of Vylrath's blood should she have taken any into herself on accident.
Mikhael, on the other hand, probably wouldn't be able to touch her for a few minutes until it dried. This blood would also dry black on Willow's pale skin.
"Think twice before you shame me again, child."
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Jen - C-Rank Porn Star
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Re: Sanctuary
by Vylrath on Wed Mar 25, 2009 6:53 am
Words did not necessarily need to be spoken to understand the reaction of another. At that moment, Vylrath had forgotten the incident. The words the man spoke had shattered his senses- he was at a loss for words.
“….Gaar? You can’t be from Gaar…I am his eldest and only son.” That he knew of, anyway. Vylrath held his side, the sensation still present, along with the brimming anger. He lifted his hand, knowing his wound would have been completely healed. Isabella still questioned his nature, unknowing of what they truly were- this irritated him.
“You still don’t understand Isabella.” The tone of his voice held no emotion, no distinguishable form of shock or hate- he was without feeling at that moment of realization.
“This man is my brother. Even though his mate tried to kill me, I must honor his bloodline.” The politics of demons were never clear. In Isabella’s world, Mikhael would have been treated as a traitor for associating himself with Willow.
Vylrath watched the reaction of those around him. It would be by his brother’s right to accept the claim or not- he had no proof of being his bloodline. It was obvious that he felt some relief with this news, he had felt alone for so long.
“You will not be branded for the actions of your mate…I welcome you, kin of Gaar.” His eyes continued to watch the mortal girl. He kept close to Isabella for comfort and support.
****
Think twice before you shame me again, child.
Those words never touched Willow. During the healing process, she had already formulated a plan: kill Kahlan. The witch that continued to heal her mocked her very presence. She was still seen as a fool, even though she attempted something only an assassin could accomplish. Her strength had been underestimated and even then, she had been lucky that the old demon hadn’t killed her off.
The fierceness boiled deep within her. Sitting still, unmoving, her eyes connected with Kahlan only briefly. During this moment, Kahlan might sense her daughter, but it wouldn’t last for what it was worth. She could care less if she wasn’t able to be in her beloved’s arms. He would be holding her for a different reason when this plot was through.
Sitting up, she acted as if she were grasping her actions, recollecting what she had done. She watched Kahlan silently, her form appearing meak. She heard Mikhael yell, and in that instant, she drew the weapon again- this time, it aimed for a new target: her mother.
She aimed for the heart of her mother. With her mother leaning toward her, it wouldn’t be an unreasonable position. With her arm at least mobile, she swung the small dagger, with strength that she should have possessed earlier, during the first attack.
****
Kahlan should have let him kill her daughter. He knew he had just been wounded, but the thought never reached his mind. It wasn’t a panic, but an urgency that made him gain his agility at such a speed. Before Isabella could respond, he was in front of the girl with his hand around the hilt, crushing her hand in the process.
Teeth bared, he had just stopped the blade from reaching Kahlan’s chest by a few inches. Without saying a word, he reverted it back toward Willow, burying the blade deep in the girl’s flesh. He could feel the weight of the blade imbed itself inside her mortal shell. He could feel her chest collapsing from the amount of pressure he was adding. Bones split, along with skin and tendon, until it reached the layers into the cavity of the heart- at least that’s what he was hoping.
She should have let me kill you in the beginning…
He was still breathing hard, his eyes blanched – the iris, pupil lacking any recognizable tone of color. It was as if his demonic heart still beat, but he knew it was the new madness stored in his body. The blood made him hunger and it didn’t help that she had been born mortal.
His hand shook on the hilt, unable to pull himself away physically or mentally. The girl had been the daughter of Kahlan, someone he had actually loved. How could he pull himself away from her corpse and not call himself responsible? Even if the girl had meant to kill Kahlan, what business had it been his, except that he had loved the woman? He knew that Kahlan could have handled herself, that her immortality would have saved her…
His eyes gained their color and his mouth quivered a response:
“Kahlan…I…” He lifted a still hand. The shaking had left with his thoughts. He didn’t know what else he could say.
Vylrath waited for his death sentence.
“I couldn’t see you that way…” Kneeling, he inched away, knowing the dagger still protruded from the girl’s chest. He covered his eyes, wishing he could claw them out of their sockets.
****
Willow only had time to glance at her mother during the struggle. The man had approached so fast, that she couldn’t even react logically. She felt the crushing of her hand and the power behind the force- so fierce! She saw the relationship – nothing would come between her mother and the people who loved her – not even her daughter. The man proved this brief thought, only a shiver of a gasp escaped her lips. Blood came from her lips, showing signs of how frail the mortal body truly was.
In her mother’s world, they could heal, and practice miracles. Willow would always be mortal- unable to simply cure herself with a touch or prayer- she would be a victim of cycle.
“Mo-…!”
It was the last thing she could utter, her eyes looking skyward in the same blankness as the demon’s eyes. (Was there really a difference, from the eyes of a corpse, compared to the eyes of a demon?) Her body lay limp, no longer wondering about the social conflict of her mortal life.
The few letters she uttered would have been a name, but that would always be a riddle, along with her choice in fate.
“….Gaar? You can’t be from Gaar…I am his eldest and only son.” That he knew of, anyway. Vylrath held his side, the sensation still present, along with the brimming anger. He lifted his hand, knowing his wound would have been completely healed. Isabella still questioned his nature, unknowing of what they truly were- this irritated him.
“You still don’t understand Isabella.” The tone of his voice held no emotion, no distinguishable form of shock or hate- he was without feeling at that moment of realization.
“This man is my brother. Even though his mate tried to kill me, I must honor his bloodline.” The politics of demons were never clear. In Isabella’s world, Mikhael would have been treated as a traitor for associating himself with Willow.
Vylrath watched the reaction of those around him. It would be by his brother’s right to accept the claim or not- he had no proof of being his bloodline. It was obvious that he felt some relief with this news, he had felt alone for so long.
“You will not be branded for the actions of your mate…I welcome you, kin of Gaar.” His eyes continued to watch the mortal girl. He kept close to Isabella for comfort and support.
****
Think twice before you shame me again, child.
Those words never touched Willow. During the healing process, she had already formulated a plan: kill Kahlan. The witch that continued to heal her mocked her very presence. She was still seen as a fool, even though she attempted something only an assassin could accomplish. Her strength had been underestimated and even then, she had been lucky that the old demon hadn’t killed her off.
The fierceness boiled deep within her. Sitting still, unmoving, her eyes connected with Kahlan only briefly. During this moment, Kahlan might sense her daughter, but it wouldn’t last for what it was worth. She could care less if she wasn’t able to be in her beloved’s arms. He would be holding her for a different reason when this plot was through.
Sitting up, she acted as if she were grasping her actions, recollecting what she had done. She watched Kahlan silently, her form appearing meak. She heard Mikhael yell, and in that instant, she drew the weapon again- this time, it aimed for a new target: her mother.
She aimed for the heart of her mother. With her mother leaning toward her, it wouldn’t be an unreasonable position. With her arm at least mobile, she swung the small dagger, with strength that she should have possessed earlier, during the first attack.
****
Kahlan should have let him kill her daughter. He knew he had just been wounded, but the thought never reached his mind. It wasn’t a panic, but an urgency that made him gain his agility at such a speed. Before Isabella could respond, he was in front of the girl with his hand around the hilt, crushing her hand in the process.
Teeth bared, he had just stopped the blade from reaching Kahlan’s chest by a few inches. Without saying a word, he reverted it back toward Willow, burying the blade deep in the girl’s flesh. He could feel the weight of the blade imbed itself inside her mortal shell. He could feel her chest collapsing from the amount of pressure he was adding. Bones split, along with skin and tendon, until it reached the layers into the cavity of the heart- at least that’s what he was hoping.
She should have let me kill you in the beginning…
He was still breathing hard, his eyes blanched – the iris, pupil lacking any recognizable tone of color. It was as if his demonic heart still beat, but he knew it was the new madness stored in his body. The blood made him hunger and it didn’t help that she had been born mortal.
His hand shook on the hilt, unable to pull himself away physically or mentally. The girl had been the daughter of Kahlan, someone he had actually loved. How could he pull himself away from her corpse and not call himself responsible? Even if the girl had meant to kill Kahlan, what business had it been his, except that he had loved the woman? He knew that Kahlan could have handled herself, that her immortality would have saved her…
His eyes gained their color and his mouth quivered a response:
“Kahlan…I…” He lifted a still hand. The shaking had left with his thoughts. He didn’t know what else he could say.
Vylrath waited for his death sentence.
“I couldn’t see you that way…” Kneeling, he inched away, knowing the dagger still protruded from the girl’s chest. He covered his eyes, wishing he could claw them out of their sockets.
****
Willow only had time to glance at her mother during the struggle. The man had approached so fast, that she couldn’t even react logically. She felt the crushing of her hand and the power behind the force- so fierce! She saw the relationship – nothing would come between her mother and the people who loved her – not even her daughter. The man proved this brief thought, only a shiver of a gasp escaped her lips. Blood came from her lips, showing signs of how frail the mortal body truly was.
In her mother’s world, they could heal, and practice miracles. Willow would always be mortal- unable to simply cure herself with a touch or prayer- she would be a victim of cycle.
“Mo-…!”
It was the last thing she could utter, her eyes looking skyward in the same blankness as the demon’s eyes. (Was there really a difference, from the eyes of a corpse, compared to the eyes of a demon?) Her body lay limp, no longer wondering about the social conflict of her mortal life.
The few letters she uttered would have been a name, but that would always be a riddle, along with her choice in fate.
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Vylrath - C-Rank Porn Star
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- Joined: Sat Dec 27, 2008 3:11 am
Re: Sanctuary
by Shin on Wed Mar 25, 2009 12:35 pm
"Yes, yes he is." Trydian said all to calmly in regards to Sebilla proclamation that Vylrath had been stabbed. Unfortunately it seemed hardly worth the effort, the girls actions had been wasted. Vylrath stood, pretty much unscathed by the meager blade.
The events that occurred directly after that did little to slow Trydian, his body moving before his brain registered it. "Go to grandmother." These were his last words before once again his formed was consumed by the shadows, traveling through them was probably one of the most basic of tasks that he could learn and yet, to Trydian, it was possibly the most useful.
With Vylrath in such distraught over his actions Trydian assumed, more hoped that the man did not notice him when he stepped from the shadows some yards behind him. Everyone else was forgot about at that point the new demon, the girl he had just slain and Kahlan. Actually, it was because Kahlan that Trydian came as close as he did.
He knew she would not let Vylrath hurt him, and this gave him strength. But if she were to strike down Vylrath he wanted a front seat view, he wanted to bask in his fathers blood and curse the man. Vylrath of course was not foolish to attack the man, even prone as he was the man was still a threat.
Trydian would not speak either, he stood ominously silver hair draped over his face, his near-perfect skin tainted by a single black scar over his cheek. It stood out in contrast to his pale skin and his silver locks and at the moment it only intensified the look of pure hatred he cast down on his father. Trydian wished that dagger had found it's mark, ending his fathers life...but it seemed Kahlan might do that for him.
The events that occurred directly after that did little to slow Trydian, his body moving before his brain registered it. "Go to grandmother." These were his last words before once again his formed was consumed by the shadows, traveling through them was probably one of the most basic of tasks that he could learn and yet, to Trydian, it was possibly the most useful.
With Vylrath in such distraught over his actions Trydian assumed, more hoped that the man did not notice him when he stepped from the shadows some yards behind him. Everyone else was forgot about at that point the new demon, the girl he had just slain and Kahlan. Actually, it was because Kahlan that Trydian came as close as he did.
He knew she would not let Vylrath hurt him, and this gave him strength. But if she were to strike down Vylrath he wanted a front seat view, he wanted to bask in his fathers blood and curse the man. Vylrath of course was not foolish to attack the man, even prone as he was the man was still a threat.
Trydian would not speak either, he stood ominously silver hair draped over his face, his near-perfect skin tainted by a single black scar over his cheek. It stood out in contrast to his pale skin and his silver locks and at the moment it only intensified the look of pure hatred he cast down on his father. Trydian wished that dagger had found it's mark, ending his fathers life...but it seemed Kahlan might do that for him.
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Shin - Almost Famous
- Posts: 747
- Joined: Wed Sep 03, 2008 5:52 pm
- Location: Minnesota
Re: Sanctuary
by Jen on Thu Mar 26, 2009 9:51 pm
"Grandfather!" Sebilla fell in a pool of her own skirts as she watched him kill the girl in front of Kahlan. Her mouth formed a sweet little O as she watched the carnage unfold before her eyes. It was horrific for her to witness, the sheltered and gentle young child that she was.
It was mere moments before she felt her grandmother's arms and shadow descend upon her, finally erasing the horrible scene from her sight. She stiffened as she felt hands pressing her face against cool skin. She felt a warm wet sticky substance on her face and heard a faint shriek that seemed hollow and very foreign to her ears. It took her a moment to realize it was her own throat making that horrible noise. She clawed at the hands holding her back, fearing the warm wetness was their own blood, coming to her for saving. She suddenly couldn't wipe the girl's tragic body from her mind. The blood, so much of it, was everywhere -- she could see nothing else.
She felt her body and hands flying, Sebilla felt strong hands holding her down, she felt the cold stone of the temple hard against her back.
"Mother!" Her voice was strange to her, but she was certain she'd spoken the words -- but surely that scared child's voice couldn't be hers!
------------------------
"Sebilla! Ebi, come on! Its okay! You're okay!" Isabella had one hell of a time holding onto her granddaughter as Caela came flying into the room -- as if the demons of hell were on her heels. She flung her body tight against her daughter's and held her fast. It took all the strength they had between them to hold the girl down without hurting her. It was the first time the girl had seen any carnage at all, the women understood the shock.
"What in the nine hells has happened here?" Caela asked without looking up and at Kahlan and the body that was laying prone in the doorway. She knew who it was and she had an idea, by the way her father was acting, what had happened. She couldn't fathom how so much blood had come from a girl so slender and little. Surely her body couldn't have expelled all of it!
"Your father." It was all Isabella had to say and Caela understood perfectly. It took a moment of soothing talk before Sebilla calmed down enough for Isabella to give control of the girl to Caela fully.
"Vylrath..." But what could she say? There was nothing to be said. What was done could not be undone.
----------------
"Willow!" Mikhael fell to his knees as he watched his lover's blood spew like a thousand rust colored rubies down the broken temple stairs. His eyes filled with something akin to tears, or acid, he couldn't really tell. He couldn't see, and it felt like a thousand angels had descended on him and were beginning to tear him apart, one particle at a time.
"You...bastard!" Mikhael stumbled to his feet and launched himself at Vylrath. "You lying old bastard!" Brother or not, Vylrath needed to die.
Unable to see, Mikhael just blindly aimed his attack. He was sorely off target as he plowed through the weather worn wooden door into the wall behind it. Dizzy from the pain of his heart, and now from his shoulder, Mikhael paused to take a breath and redouble his efforts. He leapt like a vicious wolf over his lover's body, over Kahlan, and straight into the Temple. Mikhael uttered a gutteral noise from deep in his chest as he tried to focus his light green eyes on Vylrath -- but he just couldn't see him. All he could see were women. Beautiful women.
They reminded him of Willow.
Mikhael let out a long low howl that tapered off into a soft whine as he turned, still crouched, to look at his dead lover. Dead.
Tears poured down the demon's face. He looked around, as if stunned to find himself in the Temple, and his eyes settled on Trydian.
He looked a little like Vylrath -- but the difference was significant enough that he didn't leap to attack. All Trydian would see was a deeply wounded Demon that had lost his mate. They had a common enemy now.
Vylrath.
---------------------------
There was a soft pressure on Kahlan's hand as she stared at a vacant spot of stone that wasn't smeared with blood. The cleanliness was quickly overcome as her daughter's blood spread in a crimson pool around her body and around her mother. It was, in effect, Kahlan's blood spilling there -- running down the stairs -- sinking into the earth.
The pressure on Kahlan's hand slowly began to fade, and she knew that the life in her daughter was fading with it. A soft wail escaped Kahlan as she scooped her daughter up as if she weighed nothing at all. She cradled the grown girl in her lap and pressed her bloody hands to her forehead, smoothing back her blood caked blonde hair. Tears, fat and as clear as the freshest spring water, rolled down Kahlan's cheeks as she kissed her daughter's face.
"It's okay baby. The pain only lasts a moment. You'll be so surprised when you get there. Heaven is such a beautiful place, and I'm only glad that you have the chance to see where I was born. Oh god..."
Kahlan's whole body began to shake as she rocked like a mad woman holding her first daughter in her arms. Her eyes saw nothing but Heaven as she spoke to the ever wilting young flower in her lap.
"Its perfect, like you. I never went back because I knew, I knew I would have you to keep me."
Kahlan shook so violently as she held her daughter, letting her blood seep deep into her white robe, that she feared her whole body would rattle to pieces.
"I forgive you. I'm sorry I wasn't able to give you everything that you deserved. Your father loved you, very much. You'll see him up there. Tell Theoren and Shane that I love them very much. Keep them company, sweet heart."
Willow's hand relaxed in Kahlan's and she felt her life beginning to shatter.
She lost it.
All Kahlan saw was death. She was surrounded by it and she knew she couldn't escape it. Shane, broken and bloody on the castle grounds where he'd killed himself. Theoren, broken after freeing himself to ascend once again. Thomas...gods above...Thomas. Her one and only son. The Angel that started it all. Bloody feathers, dark black blood on her hands.
Sabotage.
Kahlan tilted her head back and screamed to the heavens above her.
"You take everything from me! Its as if you never want me back, as if your perfect gift wasn't what you thought it should be!" She broke into tears and dropped her face into her daughter's blood smeared hair. Her eyes closed, remembering her as the sweet and greedy child that she had always been. Kahlan's throat closed as she came to each sweet memory, her mouth and nose filled with the scent of her daughter's blood and sweet fragrance oils.
"Why? Where did I go wrong?" Kahlan whispered to no one as she clutched her dead daughter to her breast. For a few minutes she could see nothing but death and blood, but after a few minutes her eyes cleared and she held tighter onto Willow's dead body.
"My baby..."
Kahlan's body would seem to melt as she pulled her daughter down the steps and laid in the ferns next to her body, holding her like she had when the girl had been very young -- after a nightmare that had brought her crying to Kahlan. She was a broken woman, and the more she held her daughter, the darker her hair became.
It would take all of twenty minutes, long enough for a deathly palor to set in Willow's cheeks and the warmth to run out.
The woman laying next to Willow had given up, at least for the time being, and her black hair and dark blue eyes were a testament to the change in the woman. Kahlan sat up after a while, her eyes puffy and red from crying and speaking soothing words to the corpse of her beloved and estranged daughter. She had spoken the girl's last rites, and with the final words, her will to live for good had ceased.
This woman, with jet black hair, fathomless blue eyes, and alabaster skin -- this woman was a glimpse into what it must have been like for Kahlan when she fell from Heaven.
Kahlan got to her feet, her white robe looking foreign on her body -- spattered with blood as it was. The form was not going to be permanent -- but the change itself was frightening. Kahlan looked into Vylrath's eyes and more tears burst from her as she came to him covered in her daughter's blood -- the body now far enough away that he'd never be able to consume any of it.
"I understand why -- but I do not have to like it." Kahlan pressed a hand firmly against Vylrath's chest and her form changed slightly -- and Vylrath would feel the concentration of holy power in his chest. Any demon within him would recoil at the sudden introduction of the power. It would not kill Vylrath -- but it would cleanse him and by the gods above it would feel as if his chest were splitting apart. Kahlan loved him and would not kill him - but the demon in Vylrath had bloody well caused enough damage to everyone gathered!
The other demons present would feel the power but nothing like Vylrath would.
"This is only a fraction of what I feel right now. A part of me is gone until I decide to rejoin her, if I can rejoin her."
Kahlan kept her hand on Vylrath's chest as her robes started to tighten around her body, thickening from cloth to leather as black as night. Kahlan looked entirely different -- and nothing short of lethal. Only a fraction of what the leaders of Hell had done to her, had given her. It would fade in time -- but for now it was a comfort to know she didn't have to be a good girl.
Besides, what was the fun in being good anyway?
It was mere moments before she felt her grandmother's arms and shadow descend upon her, finally erasing the horrible scene from her sight. She stiffened as she felt hands pressing her face against cool skin. She felt a warm wet sticky substance on her face and heard a faint shriek that seemed hollow and very foreign to her ears. It took her a moment to realize it was her own throat making that horrible noise. She clawed at the hands holding her back, fearing the warm wetness was their own blood, coming to her for saving. She suddenly couldn't wipe the girl's tragic body from her mind. The blood, so much of it, was everywhere -- she could see nothing else.
She felt her body and hands flying, Sebilla felt strong hands holding her down, she felt the cold stone of the temple hard against her back.
"Mother!" Her voice was strange to her, but she was certain she'd spoken the words -- but surely that scared child's voice couldn't be hers!
------------------------
"Sebilla! Ebi, come on! Its okay! You're okay!" Isabella had one hell of a time holding onto her granddaughter as Caela came flying into the room -- as if the demons of hell were on her heels. She flung her body tight against her daughter's and held her fast. It took all the strength they had between them to hold the girl down without hurting her. It was the first time the girl had seen any carnage at all, the women understood the shock.
"What in the nine hells has happened here?" Caela asked without looking up and at Kahlan and the body that was laying prone in the doorway. She knew who it was and she had an idea, by the way her father was acting, what had happened. She couldn't fathom how so much blood had come from a girl so slender and little. Surely her body couldn't have expelled all of it!
"Your father." It was all Isabella had to say and Caela understood perfectly. It took a moment of soothing talk before Sebilla calmed down enough for Isabella to give control of the girl to Caela fully.
"Vylrath..." But what could she say? There was nothing to be said. What was done could not be undone.
----------------
"Willow!" Mikhael fell to his knees as he watched his lover's blood spew like a thousand rust colored rubies down the broken temple stairs. His eyes filled with something akin to tears, or acid, he couldn't really tell. He couldn't see, and it felt like a thousand angels had descended on him and were beginning to tear him apart, one particle at a time.
"You...bastard!" Mikhael stumbled to his feet and launched himself at Vylrath. "You lying old bastard!" Brother or not, Vylrath needed to die.
Unable to see, Mikhael just blindly aimed his attack. He was sorely off target as he plowed through the weather worn wooden door into the wall behind it. Dizzy from the pain of his heart, and now from his shoulder, Mikhael paused to take a breath and redouble his efforts. He leapt like a vicious wolf over his lover's body, over Kahlan, and straight into the Temple. Mikhael uttered a gutteral noise from deep in his chest as he tried to focus his light green eyes on Vylrath -- but he just couldn't see him. All he could see were women. Beautiful women.
They reminded him of Willow.
Mikhael let out a long low howl that tapered off into a soft whine as he turned, still crouched, to look at his dead lover. Dead.
Tears poured down the demon's face. He looked around, as if stunned to find himself in the Temple, and his eyes settled on Trydian.
He looked a little like Vylrath -- but the difference was significant enough that he didn't leap to attack. All Trydian would see was a deeply wounded Demon that had lost his mate. They had a common enemy now.
Vylrath.
---------------------------
There was a soft pressure on Kahlan's hand as she stared at a vacant spot of stone that wasn't smeared with blood. The cleanliness was quickly overcome as her daughter's blood spread in a crimson pool around her body and around her mother. It was, in effect, Kahlan's blood spilling there -- running down the stairs -- sinking into the earth.
The pressure on Kahlan's hand slowly began to fade, and she knew that the life in her daughter was fading with it. A soft wail escaped Kahlan as she scooped her daughter up as if she weighed nothing at all. She cradled the grown girl in her lap and pressed her bloody hands to her forehead, smoothing back her blood caked blonde hair. Tears, fat and as clear as the freshest spring water, rolled down Kahlan's cheeks as she kissed her daughter's face.
"It's okay baby. The pain only lasts a moment. You'll be so surprised when you get there. Heaven is such a beautiful place, and I'm only glad that you have the chance to see where I was born. Oh god..."
Kahlan's whole body began to shake as she rocked like a mad woman holding her first daughter in her arms. Her eyes saw nothing but Heaven as she spoke to the ever wilting young flower in her lap.
"Its perfect, like you. I never went back because I knew, I knew I would have you to keep me."
Kahlan shook so violently as she held her daughter, letting her blood seep deep into her white robe, that she feared her whole body would rattle to pieces.
"I forgive you. I'm sorry I wasn't able to give you everything that you deserved. Your father loved you, very much. You'll see him up there. Tell Theoren and Shane that I love them very much. Keep them company, sweet heart."
Willow's hand relaxed in Kahlan's and she felt her life beginning to shatter.
She lost it.
All Kahlan saw was death. She was surrounded by it and she knew she couldn't escape it. Shane, broken and bloody on the castle grounds where he'd killed himself. Theoren, broken after freeing himself to ascend once again. Thomas...gods above...Thomas. Her one and only son. The Angel that started it all. Bloody feathers, dark black blood on her hands.
Sabotage.
Kahlan tilted her head back and screamed to the heavens above her.
"You take everything from me! Its as if you never want me back, as if your perfect gift wasn't what you thought it should be!" She broke into tears and dropped her face into her daughter's blood smeared hair. Her eyes closed, remembering her as the sweet and greedy child that she had always been. Kahlan's throat closed as she came to each sweet memory, her mouth and nose filled with the scent of her daughter's blood and sweet fragrance oils.
"Why? Where did I go wrong?" Kahlan whispered to no one as she clutched her dead daughter to her breast. For a few minutes she could see nothing but death and blood, but after a few minutes her eyes cleared and she held tighter onto Willow's dead body.
"My baby..."
Kahlan's body would seem to melt as she pulled her daughter down the steps and laid in the ferns next to her body, holding her like she had when the girl had been very young -- after a nightmare that had brought her crying to Kahlan. She was a broken woman, and the more she held her daughter, the darker her hair became.
It would take all of twenty minutes, long enough for a deathly palor to set in Willow's cheeks and the warmth to run out.
The woman laying next to Willow had given up, at least for the time being, and her black hair and dark blue eyes were a testament to the change in the woman. Kahlan sat up after a while, her eyes puffy and red from crying and speaking soothing words to the corpse of her beloved and estranged daughter. She had spoken the girl's last rites, and with the final words, her will to live for good had ceased.
This woman, with jet black hair, fathomless blue eyes, and alabaster skin -- this woman was a glimpse into what it must have been like for Kahlan when she fell from Heaven.
Kahlan got to her feet, her white robe looking foreign on her body -- spattered with blood as it was. The form was not going to be permanent -- but the change itself was frightening. Kahlan looked into Vylrath's eyes and more tears burst from her as she came to him covered in her daughter's blood -- the body now far enough away that he'd never be able to consume any of it.
"I understand why -- but I do not have to like it." Kahlan pressed a hand firmly against Vylrath's chest and her form changed slightly -- and Vylrath would feel the concentration of holy power in his chest. Any demon within him would recoil at the sudden introduction of the power. It would not kill Vylrath -- but it would cleanse him and by the gods above it would feel as if his chest were splitting apart. Kahlan loved him and would not kill him - but the demon in Vylrath had bloody well caused enough damage to everyone gathered!
The other demons present would feel the power but nothing like Vylrath would.
"This is only a fraction of what I feel right now. A part of me is gone until I decide to rejoin her, if I can rejoin her."
Kahlan kept her hand on Vylrath's chest as her robes started to tighten around her body, thickening from cloth to leather as black as night. Kahlan looked entirely different -- and nothing short of lethal. Only a fraction of what the leaders of Hell had done to her, had given her. It would fade in time -- but for now it was a comfort to know she didn't have to be a good girl.
Besides, what was the fun in being good anyway?
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Jen - C-Rank Porn Star
- Posts: 230
- Joined: Mon Sep 15, 2008 7:30 am
Re: Sanctuary
by Vylrath on Fri Mar 27, 2009 2:04 am
Heaven was beautiful and the voices even more remarkable. They chimed to her, welcoming her and guiding her way into their realm. She refused to part with her body, trying desperately to cling onto her mortal shell. Willow begged and pleaded with her “guide”.
Let me aid him…
You are foolish! You will not be able to come back!
Let me aid him…I love him…take my body. He will die without me! Her ghost fought with the “guide” leading her to her final destination. The guide knew that this soul was keeping itself tied to the world below. To save the soul despair, the guide offered it a resolution:
Give your body to the Earth and your soul to his blade.
Yes, anything!
You must understand…you will be bound to this blade. Should the blade ever break, your soul will be no more. Nor
Heaven nor Hell can claim you…you will be lost for all eternity. Your mother’s tears will be for naught. Do you understand, child? The voice was calm, putting Willow at ease. It was a peace she never thought she was experience.
I understand…
Then, the contract has already been made. As if seeking further assistance, the guide waited for Willow’s spirit to be still during the transition. Willow’s body would disappear, no matter if it lay rested in her mother’s arms. The blade would be full of life- calling to its new owner, Mikhael. Kahlan would indefinitely feel the mystics at work- inner light would breathe from the blades awakening.
The blade would fall from the ground, pulsating like the beating of a heart. Only its Master would be able to wield the power resting in the metal.
With Willow’s soul in the blade, she could finally feel close to Mikhael. Her revenge might actually take place and her mother would know that her death was not in vain. Trapped soul, or not, she had never felt more free.
Mikhael…As Willow spoke the blade would be aflame with an inner light.
He would no doubt hear her voice, but most likely be perplexed as to where it was coming from. Had the blade been cursed, or blessed? Only time would tell. Because her soul had filled the blade with revenge, (her final thought) it would not rest until blood covered its entirety.
****
Vylrath fell to the ground, his chest collapsing- or had it? He gripped at his chest, waiting for an implosion. His eyes bled, and every other available orifice. It was the mark of an angel that was causing his suffering- he never thought it would come from Kahlan.
He almost thought she watched in glee, some inner happiness forming, but he saw it was her concentration. Something still living in him was being ripped from his very being. His body could not fight her force and he was surprised he was still alive. Didn’t she want to kill him?
His thoughts ran through his mind like a torrent: Roen, Isabella, Trydian, Sebilla, Caela…the faces forced him to breathe. Why had he thought of his bastardized son first? Why hadn’t he thought of the woman he loved? Did fear still grip him after his old age?
Light fell through his eyes- it wiped his senses clean. He could no longer breathe on his own, but with her aid that forced him to relive his deeds. He saw every murder, every rape and every plot he had attempted.
The lives he had ruined were all in one place- their pain fed through him like an avalanche of torture. It was a waterfall that wouldn’t let him up for air. His mind had finally turned into a black existence. She had wiped his memory clean, only to replace it with memories of the past again. It was the ultimate torture, to relive experiences he would rather forget.
His leftover soul, the demon that hadn’t quite left, fought to stay in one piece. The demonic being was being sketched into anew purpose. He could feel the marks being made with her light- something he never thought he would ever feel.
He shuddered once, the light that came from him died into bleakness. The atmosphere calmed and he breathed a new breath of life.
What was he now? He had lost what had made him Vylrath Xanathi.
“Ka-h-lan…” His chest heaved in painful utterances.
“…End-d…it-t!” Vylrath looked at her with new eyes- human eyes. Humanity had never felt so painful. His body curled up, doubled-over from shame and humiliation.
Let me aid him…
You are foolish! You will not be able to come back!
Let me aid him…I love him…take my body. He will die without me! Her ghost fought with the “guide” leading her to her final destination. The guide knew that this soul was keeping itself tied to the world below. To save the soul despair, the guide offered it a resolution:
Give your body to the Earth and your soul to his blade.
Yes, anything!
You must understand…you will be bound to this blade. Should the blade ever break, your soul will be no more. Nor
Heaven nor Hell can claim you…you will be lost for all eternity. Your mother’s tears will be for naught. Do you understand, child? The voice was calm, putting Willow at ease. It was a peace she never thought she was experience.
I understand…
Then, the contract has already been made. As if seeking further assistance, the guide waited for Willow’s spirit to be still during the transition. Willow’s body would disappear, no matter if it lay rested in her mother’s arms. The blade would be full of life- calling to its new owner, Mikhael. Kahlan would indefinitely feel the mystics at work- inner light would breathe from the blades awakening.
The blade would fall from the ground, pulsating like the beating of a heart. Only its Master would be able to wield the power resting in the metal.
With Willow’s soul in the blade, she could finally feel close to Mikhael. Her revenge might actually take place and her mother would know that her death was not in vain. Trapped soul, or not, she had never felt more free.
Mikhael…As Willow spoke the blade would be aflame with an inner light.
He would no doubt hear her voice, but most likely be perplexed as to where it was coming from. Had the blade been cursed, or blessed? Only time would tell. Because her soul had filled the blade with revenge, (her final thought) it would not rest until blood covered its entirety.
****
Vylrath fell to the ground, his chest collapsing- or had it? He gripped at his chest, waiting for an implosion. His eyes bled, and every other available orifice. It was the mark of an angel that was causing his suffering- he never thought it would come from Kahlan.
He almost thought she watched in glee, some inner happiness forming, but he saw it was her concentration. Something still living in him was being ripped from his very being. His body could not fight her force and he was surprised he was still alive. Didn’t she want to kill him?
His thoughts ran through his mind like a torrent: Roen, Isabella, Trydian, Sebilla, Caela…the faces forced him to breathe. Why had he thought of his bastardized son first? Why hadn’t he thought of the woman he loved? Did fear still grip him after his old age?
Light fell through his eyes- it wiped his senses clean. He could no longer breathe on his own, but with her aid that forced him to relive his deeds. He saw every murder, every rape and every plot he had attempted.
The lives he had ruined were all in one place- their pain fed through him like an avalanche of torture. It was a waterfall that wouldn’t let him up for air. His mind had finally turned into a black existence. She had wiped his memory clean, only to replace it with memories of the past again. It was the ultimate torture, to relive experiences he would rather forget.
His leftover soul, the demon that hadn’t quite left, fought to stay in one piece. The demonic being was being sketched into anew purpose. He could feel the marks being made with her light- something he never thought he would ever feel.
He shuddered once, the light that came from him died into bleakness. The atmosphere calmed and he breathed a new breath of life.
What was he now? He had lost what had made him Vylrath Xanathi.
“Ka-h-lan…” His chest heaved in painful utterances.
“…End-d…it-t!” Vylrath looked at her with new eyes- human eyes. Humanity had never felt so painful. His body curled up, doubled-over from shame and humiliation.
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Vylrath - C-Rank Porn Star
- Posts: 222
- Joined: Sat Dec 27, 2008 3:11 am
Re: Sanctuary
by Shin on Fri Mar 27, 2009 9:41 pm
At that moment in time nothing else mattered, nothing crossed Tyrdians mind. A vicious smile was evident as he watched his father lay there in pain. Yes, much much pain. It would have to come soon, to the inexperienced Tyrdian it appeared as if Kahlan had struck a mortal blow.
'Yes, end it!' His mind screamed, his hands tight into fist, knuckles becoming white he was squeezing so hard. There was nothing ...nothing else at all, this was all that mattered!
"NO!" The words escaped Tyrdians mouth, surprising himself. Vylrath couldn't die, not yet and not like this. As much as he loved the sight of Vylrath as helpless as an infant Tyrdian couldn't let him die...not unless it was by his own two hands. "He can not die. Not yet." Tyridan's voice, now calm and smooth, holding a hint of pleasure as he looked down on Vylrath.
He honestly did not know what Kahlan had planned for Vylrath, and he if she decided to kill Vylrath then there would be nothing he could do about it. In the event Vylrath was struck down Tyrdian wouldn't shed a tear, but he would be disappointed that it was not his blade that ended the mans life. That much was clear as he continued to stare.
It did become obvious to Tyridan that the man before was losing...no, had already lost the demonic heritage. He himself was incredibly uncomfortable being so close Kahlan when she did this, his body was weak and vision was blurred. He was too proud to show it though, and he was sure it was nothing compared to what Vylrath was feeling at this moment in time.
"Let him live...please" With this he turned his back on his father, and began to walk away. Leaving the man at Kahlans whims, hoping she would not end his life.
'Yes, end it!' His mind screamed, his hands tight into fist, knuckles becoming white he was squeezing so hard. There was nothing ...nothing else at all, this was all that mattered!
"NO!" The words escaped Tyrdians mouth, surprising himself. Vylrath couldn't die, not yet and not like this. As much as he loved the sight of Vylrath as helpless as an infant Tyrdian couldn't let him die...not unless it was by his own two hands. "He can not die. Not yet." Tyridan's voice, now calm and smooth, holding a hint of pleasure as he looked down on Vylrath.
He honestly did not know what Kahlan had planned for Vylrath, and he if she decided to kill Vylrath then there would be nothing he could do about it. In the event Vylrath was struck down Tyrdian wouldn't shed a tear, but he would be disappointed that it was not his blade that ended the mans life. That much was clear as he continued to stare.
It did become obvious to Tyridan that the man before was losing...no, had already lost the demonic heritage. He himself was incredibly uncomfortable being so close Kahlan when she did this, his body was weak and vision was blurred. He was too proud to show it though, and he was sure it was nothing compared to what Vylrath was feeling at this moment in time.
"Let him live...please" With this he turned his back on his father, and began to walk away. Leaving the man at Kahlans whims, hoping she would not end his life.
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Re: Sanctuary
by Jen on Sat Mar 28, 2009 8:01 pm
"No." The words were so soft that only Vylrath would have heard them.
Kahlan brought her face very close to Vylrath's agonized features and moved her hand up to his throat. She was soaking up his evil demonic nature as it had nowhere else to disperse but into her. While inside her body the inherent holy disposition of her body would eradicate the demon one infintesmal cell at a time until it no longer existed. Kahlan's black hair swung forward as she slid to her knees before Vylrath, her hand still firmly planted on his chest.
"It won't hurt much longer."
Soon the human in Vylrath, whatever was left of it, would be completely at peace as Kahlan's nature began to sew the shredded particles of his soul back together. Her eyes were slowly turning green as she held slid her hand up his chest, to his neck, and up to his cheek. Before long both of her hands were on Vylrath's face, her thumbs smoothing away the lines of pain that were etched deeply from the exertion of parting with his soul. He would only feel warmth, would only smell sweet roses, and he would only see Kahlan and know that she loved him beyond all things.
Kahlan had that way with men.
She smiled as she smoothed his hair, moving her hands from his face and pulling him forward to rest his head on her shoulder. She looked horribly drained as she held her lover in her arms. Kahlan's skin was ashen, paper thin, and she looked as if she might have thinned with the exertion. There was a hollowness in the depths of her dark green eyes and she didn't blink. She soothed and comforted Vylrath as she held him as tightly as she could muster. In the end, it wasn't very tight at all.
Kahlan's hair, black since Willow's transformation, was now riddled with strong pure silver strands -- they would fade eventually like the black hair, but the cost of exerting so much power was written all over the beautiful woman.
"Vylrath..." Kahlan's voice was soft and croaking as she started to lean against him, she'd given him much of her own strength to get him through the event. "You're free."
She wilted against him, sliding down his body to hit the stone floor with a dull thud. She wasn't dead, but it would take some time for her to even gain conciousness -- much less strength.
---------------------
Mikhael growled as he dashed out of the building to where Kahlan had left Willow. Her presence hurt him too much to stay within the temple proper, and Willow's body was just out of reach of the harmful effects of her power. He hoped the angel would wrench Vylrath's very flesh from his body for this heinous crime.
Fully expecting to find a body, Mikhael spent some minutes trying to find it, thinking he was going mad -- when he tripped headlong over a beautiful sword. His head bounced off a chunk of temple that hadn't been replaced when Vylrath rebuilt it with his power. With a deep groan, Mikhael sat up and looked at the offensive piece of metal. He raised his leg to kick it...
Mikhael...
It spoke to him! With such longing...and with her voice...
Mikhael crawled warily toward the blade on all fours, not unlike a beaten cat, and reached out to the blade. Before his fingers could touch the cold wet blade he jerked his hand back. He scuttled forward and sat mere inches from the blade, hunched over it like a mad man, rocking back and forth over it -- his long black hair (usually so well kept) stringy and lank swinging forlornly as he stared at the blade. Mikhael reached out to touch the blade again, however, he yanked his hand back again and looked over his shoulder -- maybe it was a trap!
He had seen Willow fall and die. It couldn't be her!
But, oh gods, if it was...
Mikhael threw caution to the wind as he picked up the blade and cradled it in his arms. His sanity was so far gone at this point that he didn't think the gesture very weird at all. He continued to rock back and forth as he held the blade like a child, cooing at it with nonsensical words and murmurs. There was a madness in Mikhael that had broken the surface -- and the blade was just keeping him aware of himself, but barely. Big fat tears, caustic acid, rolled down his cheeks as he tried to make sense of his loss. It shouldn't affect him that much, this death of a mortal woman...
He didn't realize that one of his tears had fallen onto the hilt of the blade as he mourned what he had lost -- the body of his lover gone. There was nothing he could do for her. He hadn't even been able to touch her...
A soft mournful sob escaped his lips and he couldn't breathe...so he didn't even hear or smell the acid scorching the blade -- it wouldn't hurt too much but it might make the voice very worried.
Kahlan brought her face very close to Vylrath's agonized features and moved her hand up to his throat. She was soaking up his evil demonic nature as it had nowhere else to disperse but into her. While inside her body the inherent holy disposition of her body would eradicate the demon one infintesmal cell at a time until it no longer existed. Kahlan's black hair swung forward as she slid to her knees before Vylrath, her hand still firmly planted on his chest.
"It won't hurt much longer."
Soon the human in Vylrath, whatever was left of it, would be completely at peace as Kahlan's nature began to sew the shredded particles of his soul back together. Her eyes were slowly turning green as she held slid her hand up his chest, to his neck, and up to his cheek. Before long both of her hands were on Vylrath's face, her thumbs smoothing away the lines of pain that were etched deeply from the exertion of parting with his soul. He would only feel warmth, would only smell sweet roses, and he would only see Kahlan and know that she loved him beyond all things.
Kahlan had that way with men.
She smiled as she smoothed his hair, moving her hands from his face and pulling him forward to rest his head on her shoulder. She looked horribly drained as she held her lover in her arms. Kahlan's skin was ashen, paper thin, and she looked as if she might have thinned with the exertion. There was a hollowness in the depths of her dark green eyes and she didn't blink. She soothed and comforted Vylrath as she held him as tightly as she could muster. In the end, it wasn't very tight at all.
Kahlan's hair, black since Willow's transformation, was now riddled with strong pure silver strands -- they would fade eventually like the black hair, but the cost of exerting so much power was written all over the beautiful woman.
"Vylrath..." Kahlan's voice was soft and croaking as she started to lean against him, she'd given him much of her own strength to get him through the event. "You're free."
She wilted against him, sliding down his body to hit the stone floor with a dull thud. She wasn't dead, but it would take some time for her to even gain conciousness -- much less strength.
---------------------
Mikhael growled as he dashed out of the building to where Kahlan had left Willow. Her presence hurt him too much to stay within the temple proper, and Willow's body was just out of reach of the harmful effects of her power. He hoped the angel would wrench Vylrath's very flesh from his body for this heinous crime.
Fully expecting to find a body, Mikhael spent some minutes trying to find it, thinking he was going mad -- when he tripped headlong over a beautiful sword. His head bounced off a chunk of temple that hadn't been replaced when Vylrath rebuilt it with his power. With a deep groan, Mikhael sat up and looked at the offensive piece of metal. He raised his leg to kick it...
Mikhael...
It spoke to him! With such longing...and with her voice...
Mikhael crawled warily toward the blade on all fours, not unlike a beaten cat, and reached out to the blade. Before his fingers could touch the cold wet blade he jerked his hand back. He scuttled forward and sat mere inches from the blade, hunched over it like a mad man, rocking back and forth over it -- his long black hair (usually so well kept) stringy and lank swinging forlornly as he stared at the blade. Mikhael reached out to touch the blade again, however, he yanked his hand back again and looked over his shoulder -- maybe it was a trap!
He had seen Willow fall and die. It couldn't be her!
But, oh gods, if it was...
Mikhael threw caution to the wind as he picked up the blade and cradled it in his arms. His sanity was so far gone at this point that he didn't think the gesture very weird at all. He continued to rock back and forth as he held the blade like a child, cooing at it with nonsensical words and murmurs. There was a madness in Mikhael that had broken the surface -- and the blade was just keeping him aware of himself, but barely. Big fat tears, caustic acid, rolled down his cheeks as he tried to make sense of his loss. It shouldn't affect him that much, this death of a mortal woman...
He didn't realize that one of his tears had fallen onto the hilt of the blade as he mourned what he had lost -- the body of his lover gone. There was nothing he could do for her. He hadn't even been able to touch her...
A soft mournful sob escaped his lips and he couldn't breathe...so he didn't even hear or smell the acid scorching the blade -- it wouldn't hurt too much but it might make the voice very worried.
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Jen - C-Rank Porn Star
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Re: Sanctuary
by Vylrath on Thu Apr 02, 2009 9:06 am
Vylrath held her body. It was the first time he had felt true warmth. He heard the words of his son, but only paid attention to the woman in front of him. She had given him so much. “Isabella I need your assistance!” Vylrath spoke sharply at his wife, knowing the life force that rested in his hands.
He knew he hadn’t been in this state of mind. The old demon- man- finally felt at peace.
Was he now considered a human? He was still Vuri- the substance that made him Vuri had calmed and he doubted his madness would return. Blood smelled differently- coppery, like it should have to begin with.
Cradling Kahlan, he expected tension between him and Isabella. How could he face her, knowing that he loved another woman entirely? That he would have died for Kahlan, taken a sword to his chest, but couldn't even save Isabella from her past misery?
Moving away from the horrific scene, he had forgotten about the body of Willow. The blade would not stand out to him and her cries would not be heard on deaf ears. He could no longer communicate with the dead, summon dark entities, or talk with the Gods.
He was immortal, but carried the strength of a mere mystic.
To Vylrath Xanathi, he was a useless man at the mercy of women.
****
Console with the boy....
Images of the Trydian's hatred would flash like a storm inside Mikhaels head. Her spirit would rejuvinate the passion of his demonic nature. Scheming would be inevitable, if she could see the fall of her mother's new family. Her voice continued to hiss and shriek, the blade growing warmer by the touch, the metal cooling only when the mood struck her.
He feels the same way you do...don't you love me?
Her desires would feed into his stirring spirit. She woud make him ache for revenge on her death. Images of her final moments would never let him rest. Willow knew that she could still win her battle, even in death.
He knew he hadn’t been in this state of mind. The old demon- man- finally felt at peace.
Was he now considered a human? He was still Vuri- the substance that made him Vuri had calmed and he doubted his madness would return. Blood smelled differently- coppery, like it should have to begin with.
Cradling Kahlan, he expected tension between him and Isabella. How could he face her, knowing that he loved another woman entirely? That he would have died for Kahlan, taken a sword to his chest, but couldn't even save Isabella from her past misery?
Moving away from the horrific scene, he had forgotten about the body of Willow. The blade would not stand out to him and her cries would not be heard on deaf ears. He could no longer communicate with the dead, summon dark entities, or talk with the Gods.
He was immortal, but carried the strength of a mere mystic.
To Vylrath Xanathi, he was a useless man at the mercy of women.
****
Console with the boy....
Images of the Trydian's hatred would flash like a storm inside Mikhaels head. Her spirit would rejuvinate the passion of his demonic nature. Scheming would be inevitable, if she could see the fall of her mother's new family. Her voice continued to hiss and shriek, the blade growing warmer by the touch, the metal cooling only when the mood struck her.
He feels the same way you do...don't you love me?
Her desires would feed into his stirring spirit. She woud make him ache for revenge on her death. Images of her final moments would never let him rest. Willow knew that she could still win her battle, even in death.
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Re: Sanctuary
by Jen on Fri Apr 10, 2009 10:05 pm
Isabella was at hand the moment Kahlan wilted to the floor. Her hands moved with the strength and assurance of a Priestess as her fingers pressed firmly against the pulse that fluttered weakly at the angel woman's throat. She wasn't Vylrath's wife, she wasn't even a Vuri, the woman in that moment was all business.
"Come, give her to me. I will bring her to my sanctuary. You can come and stay with her while I do what I can to make her comfortable." Bella picked Kahlan up, staggered for a moment with her dead weight, and squared her shoulders to bear their saving grace into her personal sanctuary.
Once inside the room Isabella set Kahlan on a bed of straw and ferns covered with several blankets. Isabella had enough dignity at the time to be somewhat embarassed that she had no bed as of yet. It was an unspoken knowledge that the woman would stay in this large room with the likeness of her once god. The thick stone walls were a safe haven that Isabella had rarely in her tumultuous life. A smile found its way to her lips as she arranged Kahlan's hands on her stomach and created a pillow from her cloak. It was sparse and the life a warrior might lead on the road to war -- but surely not a once Queen of Xexoria and most definately not the legendary Kahlan Lothair. Ah, but there was the secret of the matter. Vylrath had fallen in love with many a woman, but the two he had the most keen feelings for (and surely the most children) were simple and undemanding in the way of comfort. They were also the women that had controlled vast tracts of land and decided the fates of thousands.
Power fell easily on the shoulders of Kahlan and Isabella.
"Get some water. She'll be incredibly thirsty when she wakes." Isabella spent some time leaned over Kahlan's weakly rising chest, determining something in her head, she gave a nod and looked back and Vylrath. "This woman suffers like most of us can only imagine. Kahlan has done you a great service today though you may not feel it yet. You are pure now."
------------------
There were voices. She could hear them just beyond the dark haze that clouded her vision. She wanted to reach out to them but her arms felt like blocks of lead.
"I'm here! Right here!" Kahlan pounded her fists against a heavy wooden door to no avail. The voices just couldn't hear her!
"Why won't anyone look for me?" Kahlan slid down the wall and held her head in her hands, her strong golden hair a silver streaked black as she felt the crushing abandonment settle on her. She cried, she tore at her hair, she tried to reason with herself -- but she couldn't make any sense of the situation. For a woman built on reason and knowing -- that was the lowest blow that could ever be delivered.
"Help me..." Her voice broke as she looked around the dark room, the vaguest light illuminating the murky rocks. A dungeon?
"What are you crying over, Aria?"
"Mother?" Kahlan's head snapped up so quickly that she hit it against the stone wall behind her. She closed her eyes involuntarily and hoped she wasn't hallucinating.
"Who else?" The light that the body emitted was blinding in the dank atmosphere. Kahlan blinked and raised her hand, which she noticed was filthy, and looked between her fingers. It was her mother.
"You need to get over your mourning. It hurts, I know. We knew what you were when you came into our lives -- we knew your life would be paved with sorrow. Aria, I am sorry that love has hurt you so badly -- but there is someone waiting for you just on the other side of that door. You have to believe that he will not abandon you. You have to believe that he is not dead. You did not kill him!"
Kahlan clutched at her hair again and forced her head between her knees. No! She had murdered him. No demon could withstand that kind of power!
"Believe in me. You did that once."
"You died." Kahlan felt childish at the sound of her own broken voice, accusing a woman of something she couldn't control.
"I am sorry." Kahlan looked up at the woman that had been her mother -- one that had done everything to keep her in the dark about her true nature. It had all been done to protect her and in the end she had died for the simple fact that she loved Kahlan unconditionally. "Your father wishes he could be here, but you know how he is. He'd want to stay and you know we can't do that. He's so proud of you. You have done so much with your gift, with your life. Don't give up on that now, Kahlan."
Kahlan pressed her hands against her eyes for a moment before looking up at her mother again. Kahlan looked almost nothing like the woman standing across the room from her. The phantom had waist length silver hair and brilliant emerald green eyes. Her skin was paper thin and as pale as fresh milk. She was thin and brittle looking, as if she were the queen of winter rather than the Queen of Ulster. Ah, but the Ulsterians had adored her even if she wasn't from Ulster itself. Ariadne.
"I am sorry, Mother. I have let life get under my skin. I apologize."
"It hurts, I know. Let yourself mourn, don't run from it. Everything happens for a reason. You really should come out of this shell now. There are people waiting for you."
"Yes, Mother."
Kahlan slowly got to her feet and turned to the door. Without hesitation she opened the door and stepped into what could only have been a labyrinth.
------------------------------
Isabella watched Kahlan's lips twitch as if she were speaking, her forhead draw down in a frown as she thought, and her whole body tremble as tears slipped from beneath closed lids. Relief spread through the woman as Kahlan's hair rapidly returned to its vibrant fiery blonde, but she knew that the battle was only half over and the woman would be as weak as a kitten for a few days at least when she woke. Extricating someone's soul wasn't something done frequently, and the sheer amount of power it had to take...well that was a testiment to Kahlan's immortality and strength.
It would have killed a lesser person, no doubt.
"Vylrath, when she wakes give her the water. I need to go sort out the damage outside."
Isabella left Vylrath alone with Kahlan -- there was nothing more she could do except wait for the Angel woman to wake.
"Come, give her to me. I will bring her to my sanctuary. You can come and stay with her while I do what I can to make her comfortable." Bella picked Kahlan up, staggered for a moment with her dead weight, and squared her shoulders to bear their saving grace into her personal sanctuary.
Once inside the room Isabella set Kahlan on a bed of straw and ferns covered with several blankets. Isabella had enough dignity at the time to be somewhat embarassed that she had no bed as of yet. It was an unspoken knowledge that the woman would stay in this large room with the likeness of her once god. The thick stone walls were a safe haven that Isabella had rarely in her tumultuous life. A smile found its way to her lips as she arranged Kahlan's hands on her stomach and created a pillow from her cloak. It was sparse and the life a warrior might lead on the road to war -- but surely not a once Queen of Xexoria and most definately not the legendary Kahlan Lothair. Ah, but there was the secret of the matter. Vylrath had fallen in love with many a woman, but the two he had the most keen feelings for (and surely the most children) were simple and undemanding in the way of comfort. They were also the women that had controlled vast tracts of land and decided the fates of thousands.
Power fell easily on the shoulders of Kahlan and Isabella.
"Get some water. She'll be incredibly thirsty when she wakes." Isabella spent some time leaned over Kahlan's weakly rising chest, determining something in her head, she gave a nod and looked back and Vylrath. "This woman suffers like most of us can only imagine. Kahlan has done you a great service today though you may not feel it yet. You are pure now."
------------------
There were voices. She could hear them just beyond the dark haze that clouded her vision. She wanted to reach out to them but her arms felt like blocks of lead.
"I'm here! Right here!" Kahlan pounded her fists against a heavy wooden door to no avail. The voices just couldn't hear her!
"Why won't anyone look for me?" Kahlan slid down the wall and held her head in her hands, her strong golden hair a silver streaked black as she felt the crushing abandonment settle on her. She cried, she tore at her hair, she tried to reason with herself -- but she couldn't make any sense of the situation. For a woman built on reason and knowing -- that was the lowest blow that could ever be delivered.
"Help me..." Her voice broke as she looked around the dark room, the vaguest light illuminating the murky rocks. A dungeon?
"What are you crying over, Aria?"
"Mother?" Kahlan's head snapped up so quickly that she hit it against the stone wall behind her. She closed her eyes involuntarily and hoped she wasn't hallucinating.
"Who else?" The light that the body emitted was blinding in the dank atmosphere. Kahlan blinked and raised her hand, which she noticed was filthy, and looked between her fingers. It was her mother.
"You need to get over your mourning. It hurts, I know. We knew what you were when you came into our lives -- we knew your life would be paved with sorrow. Aria, I am sorry that love has hurt you so badly -- but there is someone waiting for you just on the other side of that door. You have to believe that he will not abandon you. You have to believe that he is not dead. You did not kill him!"
Kahlan clutched at her hair again and forced her head between her knees. No! She had murdered him. No demon could withstand that kind of power!
"Believe in me. You did that once."
"You died." Kahlan felt childish at the sound of her own broken voice, accusing a woman of something she couldn't control.
"I am sorry." Kahlan looked up at the woman that had been her mother -- one that had done everything to keep her in the dark about her true nature. It had all been done to protect her and in the end she had died for the simple fact that she loved Kahlan unconditionally. "Your father wishes he could be here, but you know how he is. He'd want to stay and you know we can't do that. He's so proud of you. You have done so much with your gift, with your life. Don't give up on that now, Kahlan."
Kahlan pressed her hands against her eyes for a moment before looking up at her mother again. Kahlan looked almost nothing like the woman standing across the room from her. The phantom had waist length silver hair and brilliant emerald green eyes. Her skin was paper thin and as pale as fresh milk. She was thin and brittle looking, as if she were the queen of winter rather than the Queen of Ulster. Ah, but the Ulsterians had adored her even if she wasn't from Ulster itself. Ariadne.
"I am sorry, Mother. I have let life get under my skin. I apologize."
"It hurts, I know. Let yourself mourn, don't run from it. Everything happens for a reason. You really should come out of this shell now. There are people waiting for you."
"Yes, Mother."
Kahlan slowly got to her feet and turned to the door. Without hesitation she opened the door and stepped into what could only have been a labyrinth.
------------------------------
Isabella watched Kahlan's lips twitch as if she were speaking, her forhead draw down in a frown as she thought, and her whole body tremble as tears slipped from beneath closed lids. Relief spread through the woman as Kahlan's hair rapidly returned to its vibrant fiery blonde, but she knew that the battle was only half over and the woman would be as weak as a kitten for a few days at least when she woke. Extricating someone's soul wasn't something done frequently, and the sheer amount of power it had to take...well that was a testiment to Kahlan's immortality and strength.
It would have killed a lesser person, no doubt.
"Vylrath, when she wakes give her the water. I need to go sort out the damage outside."
Isabella left Vylrath alone with Kahlan -- there was nothing more she could do except wait for the Angel woman to wake.
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Jen - C-Rank Porn Star
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Re: Sanctuary
by Vylrath on Sat Apr 11, 2009 6:34 pm
Vylrath had been told when he was younger that nothing in this world was a coincidence. His body felt different, less cumbersome. The voices in his head no longer filled his mind with madness. He could finally breathe without the guilt consuming him.
What the Hell had this woman done to him?
He should be grateful, but this new body bothered him. The pressure of who he was no longer ate at his heart- he was free and he didn’t like it one bit. He had enjoyed being who he was in the past. Vylrath was used to being in control, and for once it was someone else taking the fall. He just hadn’t planned on it being Kahlan.
He had done as Isabella had requested of him-the pitcher of water rested by the bedside of Kahlan. He wasn’t worried- he knew her immortality would heal her wounds. He should let her rest, but something possessed him to do the unthinkable: he shook her awake.
“Kahlan! Wake up, damnit! We need to talk! What the fuck did you to me!” He yelled in her face, hoping that she’d snap out of it. He noticed small changes: his eyes were no longer clouded with pain. His body had lost some agility and had gained other attributes, like the full force of Vuri that resided in his veins.
He had his soul back again and if his memory served him, he had gotten rid of it with a purpose. What was he going to do with it now?
Vylrath remembered the words spoken by his son. His son wanted to kill him, he knew that. The thought of his son near Kahlan tore at his mind. The bastard was pure demon- he was sure Trydian had been affected by Kahlan’s power in some ways. Why did he suddenly feel compelled to take the life of his son? His mind obsessed with the thought, as if it controlled Vylrath entirely.
What the Hell had she done to him? His skin crawled from the thoughts constantly changing. He felt a loathing toward what he had once been. The thought of other demons surviving brought a new anger inside his chest.
“I will kill all of them…all of the pure demons. You will never have to use your power again!” He couldn't bear to see her suffer because of the soul of a rogue demon. He wouldn't allow her to do the same to anyone else. It wasn't worth it.
Killing a handful of demons was the least he could do to repay her back.
What the Hell had this woman done to him?
He should be grateful, but this new body bothered him. The pressure of who he was no longer ate at his heart- he was free and he didn’t like it one bit. He had enjoyed being who he was in the past. Vylrath was used to being in control, and for once it was someone else taking the fall. He just hadn’t planned on it being Kahlan.
He had done as Isabella had requested of him-the pitcher of water rested by the bedside of Kahlan. He wasn’t worried- he knew her immortality would heal her wounds. He should let her rest, but something possessed him to do the unthinkable: he shook her awake.
“Kahlan! Wake up, damnit! We need to talk! What the fuck did you to me!” He yelled in her face, hoping that she’d snap out of it. He noticed small changes: his eyes were no longer clouded with pain. His body had lost some agility and had gained other attributes, like the full force of Vuri that resided in his veins.
He had his soul back again and if his memory served him, he had gotten rid of it with a purpose. What was he going to do with it now?
Vylrath remembered the words spoken by his son. His son wanted to kill him, he knew that. The thought of his son near Kahlan tore at his mind. The bastard was pure demon- he was sure Trydian had been affected by Kahlan’s power in some ways. Why did he suddenly feel compelled to take the life of his son? His mind obsessed with the thought, as if it controlled Vylrath entirely.
What the Hell had she done to him? His skin crawled from the thoughts constantly changing. He felt a loathing toward what he had once been. The thought of other demons surviving brought a new anger inside his chest.
“I will kill all of them…all of the pure demons. You will never have to use your power again!” He couldn't bear to see her suffer because of the soul of a rogue demon. He wouldn't allow her to do the same to anyone else. It wasn't worth it.
Killing a handful of demons was the least he could do to repay her back.
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Re: Sanctuary
by Jen on Sat Apr 11, 2009 7:01 pm
Kahlan's hands slid along the condensation coated stone walls of the labyrinth. There was muffled sound, but it was far away. She struggled to hear it but frowned as she held her breath.
"Who--"
Kahlan's world upended as she was shaken against the walls of her own personal hell. She felt her jaw smack the nearest wall and her body slam into the one opposite. What the hell was going on?
Vylrath would notice the bruises as they occurred and darkened Kahlan's ghostly white skin. He would know they were his doing, but they occurred in places he had never touched, how? It might take him a moment to understand the mechanics of what was going on, but figure it out he would no doubt.
Kahlan rubbed her jaw and heard the voice, extremely loud and clear as if it had been screamed in her face.
"Vylrath?" Kahlan's eyes welled up with tears as she looked up to where the roof of the Labyrinth should have been. She should have been shocked not to see the roof, but she wasn't. She should have felt wrong when her whole body lifted off the floor of the Labyrinth and fell through the ceiling -- but it was as if she were going, well, home.
Her whole body tumbled through what seemed eternity until, dizzy beyond compare, Kahlan felt her soul settle into her own body.
"Vy-Vylrath?" Kahlan didn't open her eyes at first. She was afraid she would be sick all over herself and Vylrath if she opened her eyes even a fraction. Her voice sounded alien to her own ears, thick with fatigue and weariness.
"Water..." Kahlan's hands raised a fraction of an inch as she fought her weakness, angry with herself for being so very very worn out. It would take days longer now that Vylrath woke her. She was at the mercy of anything that could take her life.
It was only when she spoke the second time that Kahlan opened her eyes, crystal clear and as blue as the ocean. She smiled, soft and weak, up at Vylrath and reached for him. She had done him a service by cleansing him -- it would take time for him to see that though. Kahlan was completely aware of that.
"Who--"
Kahlan's world upended as she was shaken against the walls of her own personal hell. She felt her jaw smack the nearest wall and her body slam into the one opposite. What the hell was going on?
Vylrath would notice the bruises as they occurred and darkened Kahlan's ghostly white skin. He would know they were his doing, but they occurred in places he had never touched, how? It might take him a moment to understand the mechanics of what was going on, but figure it out he would no doubt.
Kahlan rubbed her jaw and heard the voice, extremely loud and clear as if it had been screamed in her face.
"Vylrath?" Kahlan's eyes welled up with tears as she looked up to where the roof of the Labyrinth should have been. She should have been shocked not to see the roof, but she wasn't. She should have felt wrong when her whole body lifted off the floor of the Labyrinth and fell through the ceiling -- but it was as if she were going, well, home.
Her whole body tumbled through what seemed eternity until, dizzy beyond compare, Kahlan felt her soul settle into her own body.
"Vy-Vylrath?" Kahlan didn't open her eyes at first. She was afraid she would be sick all over herself and Vylrath if she opened her eyes even a fraction. Her voice sounded alien to her own ears, thick with fatigue and weariness.
"Water..." Kahlan's hands raised a fraction of an inch as she fought her weakness, angry with herself for being so very very worn out. It would take days longer now that Vylrath woke her. She was at the mercy of anything that could take her life.
It was only when she spoke the second time that Kahlan opened her eyes, crystal clear and as blue as the ocean. She smiled, soft and weak, up at Vylrath and reached for him. She had done him a service by cleansing him -- it would take time for him to see that though. Kahlan was completely aware of that.
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Jen - C-Rank Porn Star
- Posts: 230
- Joined: Mon Sep 15, 2008 7:30 am
Re: Sanctuary
by Vylrath on Sat Apr 25, 2009 6:07 pm
His heart beat with a wild new nature. Vylrath had never been filled with such an odd animosity: it was with actual reason and a great purpose. He stood up, letting Kahlan gather herself. He shouldn’t have woken her the way he did. The guilt was marked all over his face.
“Caela! Watch over Kahlan, but first, I need to speak with you and you will not like what I have to say…” Vylrath stepped away from Kahlan, only helping her drink some more water before he left her side. His daughter would not like his plan and he was sure that she would exile him from her life.
He needed the sword that his daughter once spoke of. He could now touch the blade without being destroyed. The sword was created by a Goddess, seeing fit to create the dark brother of the sword. (Gods and Goddesses had a strange way of thinking that everything needed to be equal.)
He walked with a fever, his mind going over his plan. He paced, knowing that another demon stood outside of his doorway with his son. The walls had not failed him yet- they still understood who had spilled blood on their stone. He was still the Master.
“Isabella…fetch me my armor…you will meet with me and Caela. We will meet in your sanctuary…now that I can step foot.” Vylrath knew that the battle had just truly begun. If he could get his hands on that sword, he knew that he could set things right again and rebuild Xexoria to its greatness. He would be a good King, this time, for the right reasons.
“Caela! Watch over Kahlan, but first, I need to speak with you and you will not like what I have to say…” Vylrath stepped away from Kahlan, only helping her drink some more water before he left her side. His daughter would not like his plan and he was sure that she would exile him from her life.
He needed the sword that his daughter once spoke of. He could now touch the blade without being destroyed. The sword was created by a Goddess, seeing fit to create the dark brother of the sword. (Gods and Goddesses had a strange way of thinking that everything needed to be equal.)
He walked with a fever, his mind going over his plan. He paced, knowing that another demon stood outside of his doorway with his son. The walls had not failed him yet- they still understood who had spilled blood on their stone. He was still the Master.
“Isabella…fetch me my armor…you will meet with me and Caela. We will meet in your sanctuary…now that I can step foot.” Vylrath knew that the battle had just truly begun. If he could get his hands on that sword, he knew that he could set things right again and rebuild Xexoria to its greatness. He would be a good King, this time, for the right reasons.
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Vylrath - C-Rank Porn Star
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