By: Mystriss Freya
I found him on my way back from the market, covered in blood and half dead; I mended his wounds and saved his life. I was washing the blood from his face when he quietly asked if I was Nethu, I told him proudly that I was Madora of the Vogt clan. I remember the hollow insanity of those eyes as he buried a dagger in my chest, the searing pain as cold metal pierced my heart. He stood over me, honey brown eyes flashing with anger and hatred; he told me that since I had interfered I would take his place as his first sacrifice to Chaos.
I stared up at him in silent horror, stunned by what had happened, yet utterly fascinated by his eyes. I thought I saw them soften as he turned away and he hurled swear words at every God I have ever heard of. I traced a healing rune and gritted my teeth as I wrapped my hand around the hilt of the dagger, yanking it out of my chest. I can, at least, disable him if I plunged it through the back of his knee, I thought. He spun around suddenly, hair flaring out around his delicately chiseled face like a dark halo against the blue sky as he pounced on me.
He grabbed my wrist and pulled it violently toward his throat; a low broken whisper barely audible to my ears, “Death is all I have left.” Impulsively, foolishly, I dropped the dagger; “there is always something,” I said softly. A spark of hope flashed in his eyes as he let go of my wrist, then honey brown eyes went ice cold; “what else is there for me?” he hissed, eyes flashing violently. Instinctively, I grabbed the dagger and thrust it into his neck; he smiled blissfully and sighed, a purring rumble of thanks. He caressed my cheek with soft delicate fingers as his life began to drain away.
Then he kissed me… The world ceased to exist, there was only a twisted passion that pulled us deeper into each other; my lungs ached for air, but I couldn't tear away from the salty sweet taste of our mixing blood. Honey brown eyes glowed passionately as the very fiber of our being seemed to swirl together. The morning sun’s rays lanced through the valley, burning off the misty blanket that shrouded us in forbidden embrace. We slunk off in opposite directions without a word; wishing, praying, that the torrid memories of the prior evening were only a dream...
Weeks crawled by, every dream recalling explicit details of the tryst. I often awoke drenched in sweat, the smell of his skin stifling me, the fiery passion in his honey brown eyes burning into the back of my eyelids. Some mornings found me leaping out of bed to wretch; the taste of our salty sweet blood mingling on the tip of my tongue. My mind tortured me with endlessly questions; how could I do such a thing, how could I have enjoyed it, and worse, why did I want to go chasing after him… What insanity had he inflicted me with?
Then life as I knew it shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces, there would be no possibly of hiding the shame of what I had done; I was with child. I thought it impossible, but I could not deny the signs of the tiny life that had taken root inside me... The questions and implications raced through my mind one on top of the other; what of my birth betrothed, Sealand? What of my clans honor? I vowed that I would not allow anyone else to be burdened with the consequences of my lunatic behavior. I pleaded with my father to go on drek, to explore the lands; I claimed through gritted teeth. My father knew something was horribly wrong, and somehow he knew it was best to let me go…
For months I wandered the lands searching, over time I came to grips with the reality that even if it were possible to find him nothing good could come of it. An Elgi in service of Chaos cared about nothing except the perfect execution of the deaths they caused and I could not raise my child in the shadow of The Witch King anyway. My thoughts turned instead to that tiny heart beat growing ever stronger inside me. A seer divined that I would have a son; I named him Delbaraz and vowed to dedicate the rest of my days to his well being and happiness.
I decided that I would raise my son in Altdorf, hoping that their forward thinking would make it easier for society to accept my fatherless half breed son. Months later than I had wished, having been side-tracked in High Pass and with more than a few wrong turns, I arrived on Blackwood Shore in Talabecland. It was here that I made the tragic mistake that will punish me for the rest of my life. Fearing that I would not make it to Altdorf in time for Delbaraz’s arrival, I left the well traveled roads and took a shortcut through Bitterschaum Swamp…
I awoke in the darkness, low clouds blocking the light of Mannslieb and Morrslieb and hiding the stars; I sighed, creating shapes in the night sky had proven the best cure for my recent bouts of insomnia. Delbaraz began kicking wildly as he was want to do when he felt crowded by the remnants of my dinner. Slightly annoyed I struggled to my feet, my growing belly made mobility more difficult with each passing day. I had just let my robe slip back over my belly when I heard it; an instantly recognizable cackle that made every hair on my body stand straight up. My hands shook uncontrollably as I tried to trace my runes; I had never faced a Squig Herder alone...
Running wasn’t possible; Delbaraz kicked me violently, painfully, as I threw myself to the ground, tried to make myself invisible in the grass. The squig herder snorted excitedly, its feet sloughing quickly through the wet muck towards me. I held my breath as the squig herder drew nearer and nearer, stifling a gasp as an arrow sliced through the grass in front of my nose. Delbaraz’s thrashing stopped suddenly, I looked down slowly, dreading to see what I already felt in my heart. “He is all I have to live for.” I screamed as I ripped out the arrow and started feverishly tracing a rune to bring him back.
An arrow sliced across the skin of my arm, abandoning my tracing I shouted an activation word. Another arrow bounced off an invisible barrier, then a second arrow, a third, and a fourth bounced off as I tried again to trace a life saving rune; the fifth pierced deep into my shoulder, my arm falling limply to the ground. The squig herder laughed as his sixth arrow pierced my stomach, then came a seventh, an eighth, a ninth, tenth; I lost count... Sobbing uncontrollably I tried to shield my stomach from further arrows; they slammed jarringly into the bones in my legs and penetrated deeply into my good arm. Hopelessly I pleaded with the squig herder as I stared down the shaft of the next arrow, his beady yellow eyes twinkling with evil pleasure as he let the arrow fly.
There was a flash of silver in front of my face as the arrow twanged loudly off a graceful sword blade and fell harmlessly to the ground. The squig herder screeched, his eyes wide with terror; a barrage of perfectly fletched white arrows splashed red with blood as he turned to flee. A dark figure pounced, sword flashing duller and duller in the morning sun’s rays as it was coated tip to hilt with blood; repeatedly plunged through the squig herder’s lifeless body and deep into the mud over and over with a low purr of pleasure…
I tried to stand up, reeling as the darkness started to fall around me. The dark figure turned, throwing back the dark hood that shrouded his face in one fluid movement; honey brown eyes glowed hopefully as he leapt gracefully to my side and caught my falling body... “Delbaraz” I screamed as I faded into a brief moment of consciousness, searching frantically for any faint memory I could use to pull him back; only emptiness touched my mind. Soft delicate hands clasped mine; sad honey brown eyes looked down upon me as broken low whisper tickled my ears, “I could not save him…” I sobbed weakly as darkness descended upon me again.
For many weeks he tended my wounds, forcing me to eat and drink; forcing me to live as I tried desperately to slip into deaths cold embrace. I remember screaming at him to let me die and the echo of his soft reply as he ran delicate fingers gently through my hair; “There is always something to live for.” I vaguely remember the soothing purr of his voice as painful contractions wracked my body day and night, and fainting from the burn of cold blade as he cut my stomach open to remove Delbaraz’s body when it would not come out. I remember asking in a lucid moment if he had recognized his son; and I remember honey brown eyed teardrops glinting like diamonds falling through the moonlight…
I never saw our son; he was laid to rest in the Unterbaum Cemetery as I faded in and out of deaths cold embrace. Every day honey brown eyes brought flowers to the grave and shared the history of his life; he spoke of his little sister abducted and of killing his brother in a rage when he had tried to stop him from going to save her. Of being sentenced to death by his father, and of the brethren he had killed as he escaped like a coward. He spoke of joining a cult of Chaos, and of his inability to go through with his mission; to return to Ulthuan to kill his father. He spoke of our meeting, how it had saved him from a fate worse than death, how I had given him something to live for. He spoke of his travels when he went back to find me and of his blood oath to protect me for as long as he lived.
For years I tried to sneak away, I found myself still foolishly in love with him, yet being with him was complete insanity. He always found me; tracked me down like pray and held me hostage in the cold embrace of those honey brown eyes. We have been forced to take on countless names, his mental instability taints everything we do. Too many times we have had to move because someone grabbed me or looked at me wrong; a flash of cold steel would splash red and we had to disappear. We worked as mercenaries for many years and I learned to sooth the dark and troubled side of him; I cannot put a stop to his blind rages but I am usually able to direct his insane hatred towards the enemy. We purchased a locomotive to transport goods to far off exotic lands, and for nearly a decade we traveled to every country and province in the known world, save Ulthuan; where we dare not tread.
We spent many years in Naggaroth, where the Shadow Warriors tried to teach him to harness his hatred to be unleashed upon the enemy when needed. Their training honed his archery, and while he can shoot a beetle off my neck while blindfolded, it did not completely rid him of the daemon who constantly claws to get out. His mind is tainted by Chaos, but he is not a monster. We had to leave when we stumbled into a Druchii encampment; unquenchable bloodlust overtook him and he left not even the youngest child alive. My soothing runes and stern direction could not stop him from turning on a young scout who had come to aid us in the battle.
So it is that the fates have bound us together for the past 70 years of my memory. It is a twisting knife in my heart to love an insane elf, crueler still are the brief seconds before the daemon takes over. When all his emotional walls shatter and he tells me that he loves me more than life itself; honey brown eyes soft with adoration, then slowly dulling into blackness, sparks of hatred glinting off the edge of his sword. Many times I have awoken with the memory of the salty sweet taste of our mixed blood on the tip of my tongue and tried to tell him how I feel, but emotionless eyes freeze the words in my throat. We fight because we must; to contain the daemon, we must unleash it. He has blindly killed me more times than I can recall, but I always awaken to soft delicate hands and hopeful honey brown eyes…
Site No. 70 by Benjamin Foley