Final Judgement

[Vylrath]

The spirit world was flexuous for Vylrath, but it had its limitations. During the interaction with Thorin and Igraine, he began to see himself differently. His thought processed had changed, since forcing his son to become Vuri. What would he gain from it all, if he was still in the spirit realm? Vylrath could feel Kahlan nearby, having interacted with her more than once recently. Her beauty and strength still impressed him, but it was also the way she accepted him.

Isabella had been present, but he hadn't given a second thought to her presence- it was all focused on Kahlan. While both women were powerful in their own worlds, he respected Kahlan as a lover and companion. Vylrath settled in his spirit realm, frustrated and full of malice for his children. They were all disappointing to him, especially Roen, who now went by some foolish name.

There were children he would protect: Igraine and Sebilla. Their energies were different, immediately causing a sense of paternal desire for Vylrath. Both had come from different women, but they both held a place with Vylrath. Igraine always came before Sebilla, her spirit screaming to him in different levels-he blamed the power of Kahlan. Their child was strong willed and even stronger in magic. He had been shocked to find out that she was expecting- at having to be considered a grandfather.

Since Thorin had become Vuri, he idly wondered about the rest of that clan. They needed their Lord, but he doubted that Kahlan would participate in his return. Using his own telepathy, he spoke to her, much like a child in remorse for their actions.

Allow me passage into the realm of the living and I will swear my own loyalty to you, Kahlan....

Vylrath let his voice filter through her thoughts, interrupting any calm she was experiencing. The spirit realm had been trembling, showing signs of distress in parts of the living realm. It could be signs of things to come, or things that had already occurred. That was the tricky part about dwelling in the spirit realm...it was unpredictable.

He knew that his memory might be lost if he returned, but it was something he would have to consider. Vylrath felt confident and smug, that Kahlan would listen to his request, his attitude apparent. In the back of his mind, he wondered what would transpire if he crossed paths with Trydian, the one who managed to hold his chaotic sword.

Kahlan more than likely felt the old Vuri stir restlessly in the spirit realm. Her presence was not unknown there. The once old demon, now Vuri, had been known to wreck havoc on the unsuspecting fools that trusted him. Vylrath had taken delight in ripping his family apart and destroying the one heart Isabella had control over. He had literally made a kingdom fall under his rule. Isabella would have considered Kahlan insane, for even making such a suggestion.

In a larger spectrum of reality, he understood the Vuri powers and how to control them. Thorin was tied to him, even in death. He could feel the young man blossoming with his strength- he could be deadly for Igraine. Thorin was his main concern for suggesting his rebirth, but he did have other underlying issues.

Vylrath waited impatiently for a response from Kahlan. His anger and frustration would be very present for someone with Kahlan's abilities. His presence would be a little annoyance, begging for her every whim.

Let me redeem myself....Vylrath's voice sounded soft, almost compassionate- if that were possible for such a man. In his own curse, he had watched the world continue. While it was an existence, it was not something Vylrath could be content with. He knew how deities worked. You always had to give up something, in order to gain. If he had to redeem himself, Vylrath wondered if that ability was really in his soul. Kahlan could easily kill him- being what she was.

He waited for her, wanting an answer, but to also hear her voice again.

[Igraine]

Kahlan frowned as she listened to Vylrath's demands, each more insistent than the last. Finally she sighed inwardly and spoke to him.

You make it so difficult to ignore you, Vylrath. Her voice would almost be musical, and he would be able to see and feel the golden vibrations of it around his spirit. It would ripple through his essence and surround him almost lovingly.

You once promised such things to Isabella, and you were lucky she was human then I think. She is a special woman, though she has no love lost on you. She is content to be your ex wife. In fact, she thinks that bringing you back might be a mistake for all of our children. Kahlan warned, though with a smile. She was seated at a table, her hands folded and her eyes closed as she soaked in some of the warm golden sunlight of the Faerie Realm.

What you ask of me isn't easy. It will take some time, a week at the least. It will use a lot of my power and my skill. You must be willing to trust me and possess whatever it is that I call you to, within a moments notice. Can you do that, Vylrath? Can you obey a command? A fraction of Kahlan's power, her voice, her essence would wash over him and such a display of power was rare -- even for her. It might threaten to overwhelm him, but being Vylrath he might just desire her even more. If you can, then I will begin the process today. I have to gather things that will be at their peak today, if you so decide to trust me.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath thought over her words for a moment. He had been a cruel man when he was alive. They didn’t have to remind him. Death hadn’t been so kind and often cursed him to dwell on his past actions. That had been part of their agreement for letting him become a sentient spirit. Knowing his daughter was pregnant by Thorin had fueled some anger, but it subsided when he heard Kahlan give in to his demands.

If he was going to come back, he would need to keep the bargain. He had lived long enough, to understand how powerful beings like Kahlan worked. He would question her about the Chaos sword, but he doubted she knew anything about it.

Clearing his throat, he attempted to sound calm and collected with a sound mind. “I’ll do what you ask of me. I understand that getting a new body isn’t going to be easy. As long as the process doesn’t harm you, I’m willing to wait.” Vylrath said, used to waiting from all of those years. Kahlan spoke of Isabella like a close-knit relative. He was thankful the two women got along. “She has a kind heart. I married her, thinking I could save her from man…but I did the most damage.” He finished, sounding sorrowful.

“I will help my family if I can. I don’t want Igraine to get herself killed by Thorin’s Vuri abilities. He doesn’t quit understand what he has yet…I doubt he would see me as a mentor though.” Vylrath paused, his mind always thinking of another option. “Unless you, or Isabella could convince him for me?” Vylrath finished, wondering what her new reaction would be. It might be in awe that he would even consider helping the son he exiled. If it meant keeping a body and staying in the living, he would cross the waters of Hell and back.

[Igraine]

I see Death has humbled you slightly. Fine, consider the process begun. Follow me if you like to watch what I do. Kahlan got to her feet and pulled on a pair of tall soft brown leather boots and she tugged her long blonde hair back into a ponytail. She rolled the sleeves of her white shirt further up on her arms and grabbed her cloak on her way out of the door.

No one really bothered her as she went about her errands. First to the apothecary to pick up some inconsequential herbs, and then down to the forest floor to pick some very rare herbs, ones that humans couldn't even pronounce. There were a few Fae wandering the paths of the forest, and they hailed her with a raised hand, but no one questioned her motives. Most knew that the things she was picking were used for one thing, and one thing only, to create a body for a lost spirit.

Lost spirits were spirits that lingered in purgatory and had been away from their bodies so long that the original body was dead. They knew who they were in most cases, though the longer they were away from their bodies and in the spirit world, the closer to madness they became. Poltergeists were the usual outcome of such lost spirits that became angry at their inability to either move on or inhabit a body.

Kahlan swiped the back of her hand across her forehead and sighed as she sat back on her heels. She glanced up at the sky above her, always muted beyond the leaves. The moon began to filter down in silver rays across her and the ground around her. She looked just as wild and fae as anything in this realm, though she was only influenced by the magic during her rebirth and was entirely Angelic. She was taught the ways of the Faerie by her parents, and she was capable of manipulating various aspects of Fae magic from long hours spent training under her mother's tutoring. Her father had spent plenty of time teaching her the arts of war before his death. When she finally broke the barrier in her head placed by Michael upon her rebirth -- her father's knowledge was expounded on a hundred fold. Kahlan had fought wars, countless wars in heaven and in hell.

As the flower opened up in front of her, sparkling a iridescent blue white under the moonshine, Kahlan smiled as she dipped her head in prayer to a goddess that she wasn't supposed to believe in -- yet knew existed. Kahlan was an anomaly of heaven, never meant to fall, but experienced a life so much richer than she had ever thought possible when she was a holy angel.

Indeed, here she was, farming for a man's spirit. She clipped the flowers and folded them gingerly into a silk cloth, tucking them away into a pouch she brought with her always. In there, besides the rare flowers, were other herbs and necessities for luring a spirit to a new body. Now, she just had to build the body -- which would take most of the time.

Kahlan straightened herself out and walked back to her house, set the herbs down on the table, and stripped out of her dirty muddy clothes. She took a bath and made extra sure to scrub herself clean of all mud. When she was done, she let her hair hang damp down her back and she settled at the table and began stripping the herbs of what was needed. In the end, the vials filled up with everything from what looked like simple leaves of some random plant to intricately shelled seeds from an exotic looking limb. The waste from these herbs was not tossed out, indeed Kahlan bottled some of the left overs in order to bring with her to the Human world for her daughter.

By the time she was done, the sun was creeping up through the trees and she looked bleary eyed. She grumbled something at the air, something not entirely nice, and crawled into bed to sleep for a few hours.

When she woke, she and Isabella went on a journey to find clay. Lots of clay to make an extra special body for Vylrath's spirit to inhabit.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath watched Kahlan work- if you could call it watching. It was more like scrying from the spirit world and into the living. He wasn't in the present, or the dead, but somewhere in limbo. He could visibly see Kahlan, but he could never touch her, or hold her like he used to. Vylrath knew he could use the body of another man, but that would be a temporary thing and most awkward, if he suddenly left the body.

He watched her methodically gather certain herbs and materials for the creation of his vessel. Vylrath didn't know what she had planned, but she had always been a brilliant woman. He was sure she had his best interest in mind- then again, women were often unpredictable.

If a Spirit could pace, Vylrath would have been pacing long ago. He was anxiously awaiting for Kahlan to finish the procedure- everything had to be done with precision and careful practices. Vylrath had died a Vuri and he was beginning to feel the stir of his race. His son was turning into a maddening dilemma. He could feel Thorin's power radiating like an electrical storm. Vylrath worried for the safety of Igraine and he knew that he would be seeing her first, the moment he was able to function in a body.

“The Vuri are restless....something is happening that I cannot see, or predict. The spirits are not speaking to me. We need to hurry Kahlan, if I am going to be any use to our daughter.” Vylrath said, knowing he would willingly protect Igraine and kill Thorin. He had killed countless people and men in his life- Thorin would just be another hatch mark added.

Maybe he had been a fool for turning Thorin, but at least he could feel his essence and know his movements. Thorin was calculating, just like his father and he didn't like that realization. While he had failed in parenthood, he had at least attempted to protect his family in the past. Those actions made up for some of his wrong doings, but they would not completely wipe his sins. Vylrath knew that if he returned, he would have to be a leader.

Knowing this was an inevitable circumstance, he wondered how Isabella would react to him being in the flesh and blood again with his powers. He had been a cruel man when he lived, often taking pleasure in torturing his family. Xexoria was practically a ruined city.

“Woman, you realize I will need armor and a blade?” Vylrath said, watching her work with a steadfast accuracy. He hoped that she wouldn't bring him back and force him to be weaponless. Vylrath knew that Caela had Vuri weapons, but he wondered if he would have the strength to travel from the Fae realm to the Vuri sanctuary. He knew he would have to travel just to get to Igraine.

Feeling the fury in Thorin made him realize his dire mistake in giving him the force of a Vuri. Thorin may have the ability to become stronger than him, but he didn't realize his own potential yet. “I hope Igraine can forgive me, if I have to kill him. I should have never turned him, but seeing him attack you- I thought it was a fitting punishment.” Vylrath explained, justifying his actions as he always did. The women were adjusted to his pitiful explanations, most of them usually ignoring his words as Kahlan often did.

Kahlan had been the stronger of the women he had been with. Isabella had a heart, but she hadn't captured his. Kahlan's strength and grace captivated him even in death. He had listened to her talk about Isabella as if he should give a damn- the woman had been a political advancement and nothing more. He would have more children with Kahlan, but he doubted she would be as willing. Right now, he struggled keeping his current family in control.

“Let me know what my part in this is...I think our daughter carries a sickness and will be targeted. By what, I cannot say. I think she will welcome me- she is the only one who talked decent of me.” Vylrath said almost sorrowfully. The sickness he described, was actually the spirit of her unborn child. Morgana had unbelievable power and was displaying it even in the womb.

He had loved and adored Igraine like any father should, but his adoration had become an obsession with her. Even in death, Vylrath continued to watch over and he definitely didn't like what he was seeing.

His rebirth was long overdo.

[Igraine]

Vylrath prattling in the background, like a distant hum of a buzzing fly or angry bee, hardly distracted Kahlan long enough to hazard a reply. She puffed her hair out of her eyes and put some finishing touches on the clay likeness of Vylrath. It was finely detailed, except for a few things, such as the eyes or the color of the hair. Vyl's spirit would determine those things. Inside the clay structure were the various herbs that Kahlan had picked for this occassion. The rare moonflower being at the heart of the entire structure.

"Vyl, I'm ready for you. Slip into my body and focus all of your energy through my arms and into my hands." Kahlan plunged her hands deep into the chest of the clay rendition of Vylrath. She had made his features less angular than they had been in life, but he looked far more handsome as a result, and less harsh. She straddled the clay figure on what looked like a funeral pyer. She didn't think of how odd she looked in the middle of a clearing in the woods, straddling a red clay figure on a large table. Kahlan was completely focused on the task at hand, her white shirt slightly askew on her frame, unbuttoned to the tops of her breasts, an undershirt preventing too much clevage from showing. She had a light sheen of sweat on her brow as she channeled her magic into the clay likeness, infusing it with a sentient life that made it almost a real living creature. Almost. Vyl's spirit would complete the process.

Though, what features Vyl would end up having would vastly depend on his vision of himself. He might not end up as he had been in life because his soul was Vuri now.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath didn't have a choice in following her instructions. The energies from the spirit world practically pulled him into her -she would be his vessel for now. Vylrath practically fell into her body, feeling her chaotic spirit mingle with his. It was a living Hell- far worse than death. Right now, Vylrath was concentrating more on his discomfort, rather than the features she was instructing him to help her create. He gave her a vague image, not having really focused on his image when he had been alive. Vylrath only wanted to be strong and lithe enough to serve his purpose.

Other spirits were vying for the vessel that Vylrath found himself in. They had practically tried to tear him apart, for the chance at being “reborn” again. It was an odd sensation, having other spirits trying to take over his essence. If he had let his spirit be destroyed, he didn't want to think of where he'd be then.

Once he possessed Kahlan, he felt everything about her. The pain was a new sensation- he often forgot what actual sensations were like to experience. The doubt began to surface in his mind.

He fought with Kahlan's spirit for awhile, creating a cataclysmic experience in her body. Vylrath would never intentionally harm Kahlan, but he was without his normal senses for the moment.

Vylrath realized that the actual pain was madness. Kahlan's spirit began to comfort his chaotic state, forcing him to focus his direction and the task at hand. She would feel his presence in her inevitably. Vylrath had always been strong, but he hadn't used his powers in so long, he wondered if he would be able to give his energy to her.

With full concentration, he began to channel himself to her arms and finally into her hands. Her arms might give off an odd hue, almost gray in color. Vylrath wouldn't speak, spending most of energy on this one instance.

[Igraine]

Kahlan's whole body seized up for a few minutes, all of her muscles rigid with the force of Vylrath's spirit in her. She was slowly forcing him down into the body, coaxing his spirit out of her. A lesser person would have gone mad from the moment the spirit fell into them. Kahlan was too strong for that.

A soft grunt escaped her lips as she finished shoving Vylrath's spirit into the clay receptical that was now no longer clay. It was all soft flesh and living. Kahlan lifted her hands within the chest cavity, Vylrath's chest cavity, and heaved a hand up to where the heart was, where the moonflower had been -- she squeezed.

It would hurt like hell, but it had to be done. Kahlan started the heart inside Vylrath's chest caving and leaned down, her hands still buried inside Vyl's chest and she breathed into his mouth and filled his new lungs. She pulled back and yanked her hands out of Vyl's chest cavity. The action alone would shock Vyl into waking and it would hurt like nothing else he'd ever experienced before. Kahlan made a sign, finishing the magic she was threading into Vyl's body, and barely had enough sense to prop herself up. She glanced down at the grey black blood on her hands and smeared them on her pants. She was sitting atop him still, not having moved.

"Well. That was incredibly difficult. You were moronic for not listening to me. I have a massive headache because of you." Kahlan slid off of Vylrath's hips and laid next to him on the pyer. She lay with her head rested on his shoulder and her hands, covered in his blood on his chest. She had at least thought to clothe the clay figure before they started -- most people forgot that step if they succeeded at bringing a bodiless soul back to life.

[Vylrath]

Vylrath never thought he wouldn't like being inside Kahlan. When the process was through, he smirked seeing her on top of him. Even clothed, his body still reacted to her very form. The first thought he conceived, was not a pure one, but thankfully he wasn't sharing his thoughts with her.

He watched her get into a more comfortable position, explaining her exhaustion. Vylrath continued to smirk, the thoughts of having his way with her very present. “You're lucky I'm too weak too much. I've never let your discomfort stop me before.” When she laid down against his chest, he stroked her hair, surprised he even had energy to do that small action.

“Thank you.” Vylrath said, knowing those two words would shock anyone he had known- especially Kahlan. It was often that he acknowledged his faults, or even thanked someone for their kindness. He could feel her weak body against his, but maybe their bond had been awakened, by their spirits mingling. Vylrath didn't know for sure.

[Igraine]

Kahlan grumbled softly and kissed Vylrath's neck and cheek and mouth very gently, barely able to lift herself in order to do so. Her muscles had strained so hard keeping other spirits out and Vylrath in. One of her hands lingered over his chest where her hands had been plunged.

"You're welcome." It was a simple statement for a simple sentiment. He knew every inch of what she had gone through in order to bring him back. "If you ever want to know what giving birth is like, you lived it." She laughed lightly and wrapped a leg over his hips and settled in close to him, just enjoying his presence. Now that, in itself, was a strange sentiment. Out of all of the beings known to exist in the human world -- Kahlan was the last person that should be attracted to an old half demon. She even had the one child of his that loved him.

Vyl might not recognize his love and his fear co-mingling in his desire for Kahlan, but it was there. She was a powerful being.

"So many people are going to be pissed." Kahlan laughed and shook her head slightly. It was the last thing she would say as she started falling asleep in Vylrath's arms. She was completely exhausted.

[Vylrath]

“Death won't be happy with me. I had to destroy a few souls just to get to you.” Vylrath said, forcing himself to stretch and attempt to get up. He moved her hand away from his chest, feeling awkward from her touch. The Vuri powers surged through his veins, but he was still weak from being reborn. It was as if the powers had been awakened for the first time, the sensation was intoxicating.

Moving tenderly, he felt every inch scream in pain and discomfort. He breathed in deeply, getting used to air flowing through his lungs. The world view was different, no longer lethargic like it had been in death. Vylrath touched random objects, getting used to his sensations again. He was going into a sort of shock, but it wasn't something he would ever admit to Kahlan.

“I don't need to be reminded...I saw Isabella give birth.” Vylrath shuddered at the memory that flooded in his mind. His memories were returning, which was another odd reality for him.

“You better keep Isabella calm when you tell her. I'll meet with her, but she'll be pissed at you for awhile.” Vylrath said, immediately placing the responsibility on Kahlan. He flexed his hands, wondering what their next course of action would be.