OEW: Remnants

[Deiter Leafblade]

Leaving the woman to find her answers with another, he followed Chani out of the tavern. The sun was high into the sky now and raised Deiter's spirits as they made their way for the stables. Two young stable boys greeted them as they helped with the saddlebags and lead the horses out of the city gates.

He looked over at Chani then, the sunlight creating highlights through out her hair. His thoughts wandered to how beautiful she still was, regardless of how harsh the years had been to her. Breaking his gaze away from her, he jumped on top of his horse and made a good distance between them and the city. "Any direction you would like to travel in?" He asked as his eyes wandered around the surrounding area.

[Killing Spree]

Chani shrugged, tensely running her fingers through her horse's flaxen mane. Her gaze was distant and impatient at the same time. She had no ideas for potential destinations, but wherever they were going, the sooner they got there the better. She could not wait to just find a place to shed the distasteful skin she'd grown in the past four years.

Her posture somewhat rigid, she craned her neck to look at Deiter. Her dark blonde hair, grown down nearly to her hips over the years, moved gently on the breeze. As she looked at him, she could not help but feel some semblence of tenderness, but there was no indication of these feelings in her tone as she plainly muttered, "I really don't care, as long as it's nowhere I've been before."

[Deiter Leafblade]

"East it is then." Shifting directions, Deiter urged his horse forward. Occasionally he would look over at her just to make sure she was still there. It was an odd feeling. They had been apart for so long that having her here with him almost felt like a forgotten memory. Smiling faintly, he occupied himself with watching the scenery pass by.

Several hours of silence had past leaving Deiter anxious to say something to her. He was curious about what she had been doing these past four years, but didn't want her to withdraw from him even more than she already had. Going against his better judgment, he asked. "I know you've been running the tavern, but what else have you done all these years?" He glanced over at her hoping she wouldn't pull herself away.

[Killing Spree]

Chani bit her lower lip as all her heart seemed to cringe at Deiter's question. For a moment she despised him for asking it, but her angst quickly subsided. His questions were innocent and not at all unseemly. She cleared her throat to provide a more open and approachable enunciation than she had previously. That did not keep her, however, from being vague. "Well... At first I looked for you."

[mistral4543]

The hours had passed swiftly enough as she clamoured for details of the Freelight residence, from whomever she bumped into the streets and cared to pitch in what they knew of the matter. After which, she had spent a while bargaining for a reasonably priced horse that would transport her to her desired destination.

Patience, Acacia. Patience. It was not so easy now, when the end seemed near at hand. She could not wait to be told that the mistress was well and good, that no dangers were lurking around the corner and most of all, that no distant relative should come so presumptuously as if she were challenging for the title of the head of the Freelight clan. Let it be done, and gotten over with. Such were her thoughts as she spurred the mare onward.

At length, she spotted in the distance a sight to rejoice over. A sturdy and dignified-looking manor stood before her, a flag fluttering proudly though somewhat lonesomely in the skies.

Swinging herself off the horse, she made her way up to the main entrance and gave the huge door three hard raps.

[Deiter Leafblade]

So she did look for me... He watched her for a moment longer then turned away to face the trail ahead. "I understand if you're not comfortable with the subject." Was he that surprised she had looked for him? Had he expected her not to? Her impression towards him appeared to be that she have gave up to begin with, but Deiter cursed himself for even letting the thought enter his head. Of course she had searched for him, wouldn't he had done the same for her? It was understandable that she had gave up eventually. Part of him was glad she did. With Nefris there, who knew what he would have done to the half-elf. Shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts, he pointed ahead to a small clearing. "It's getting late. We should make camp and you can continue on then if you wish." Not waiting for her reply, he pushed his horse on ahead.

Tying the reigns of his horse to a nearby tree, he busied himself with starting a small fire. A few seconds later small flames sprang to life giving a warm glow to the surrounding area. Satisfied with the campfire, Deiter found a spot to sit near it in front of an old tree. Leaning back, he watched the flames crackle and thrash in a spontaneous dance.

[Killing Spree]

The moment Arrakis had seen her, he knew. He'd only caught her eye for a brief second in the thick of the crowd, but it was sufficient. After all these years, he was finally getting close. Not wanting to confront the young woman in the city, where she could easily be lost, he decided to follow her. This would also give him an opportunity to ascertain that she was indeed the one he was looking for.

The ride to the Freelight manor seemed to take only brief moments. In the hourglass that was his journey, this was the final grain of sand. It was obvious to him now that she was indeed who he had hoped. She obviously had some connection to Mistral's family. That was something he should have expected, but had not encountered before this time. It was too obvious. But here she was. He watched as she knocked on the door, and quietly stepped into her proximity as she did so. Breathlessly he waited for her to notice him.

[Larry_OHF]

OOC>>>My character, Larry Silverfall will be ready soon. Its taking a bit longer than I had hoped for.

Meanwhile...where is everyone else?

[Larry_OHF]

The dawn found him, and he wasted no time jumping up from bed and greeting her. He was home, but his heart was not relaxed. He had travelled all night to get here, rest up and begin an important journey. This journey would be to find truth. He had been gone now for four years in a foreign land, out of his mind and lost. Only today had he found his way back home. He looked about and saw that nothing had changed from last he had seen it. In fact, he felt in better health than he had been in these last four years. He'd not understand how or why, but he felt that nothing had changed from before he left.

His memories came calling for attention and he realized that he had not yet looked over the parchment that the old man had slipped him the night before. Larry also realized that he was still covered in dirt from his desperate dig in the grave last night. But he'd take care of that once he read the contents of this letter...what was proposed as the true statement of that fateful night.

He read on:

[Larry_OHF]

A Truth is Told: The ending to the OEW, Four years ago.


She curbed her first impulse to open her eyes when finally consciousness returned to her vulnerable state. Hushed whispers and a painfully tight grip on her wrist - that surely was Larry? - were all that she could sense. Yet there was something more important that she could barely pick up.

Irritation.

Just a little, not an overwhelming proportion of hate.

And then, a tinge of malicious pleasure.

That drifted by like a little wind... no, like a ghost...

She stiffened.

The ghosts of the past. Are they watching me now with greedy eyes, ready to avenge themselves for Father's wrongs? ~ The exertion to remain passive was draining her ~ Why am I questioning my own father? What sort of daughter would do that?! ~ A tightness formed over her lips, and the eye movements behind the closed lids grew rapid ~ What must I do?! Oh Mystra, if you abandon me now, all will be lost!!

The dampness of her body... the relentless jabs shoving into all sides of her head... the torrents of panic drowning her... never had she felt so utterly helpless except when Fabian had held her honour at stake.

That had been a matter of the Freelight reputation.

Now, it was a matter of family feuds.

With no real solution at present, not even a pill could help relieve her ailment. There was no escape. Ravenwood would not let her be. As her heartbeat started on a war dance, she knew she had lost the fight. For now, at least.

Moaning, she opened her eyes, finding her eyes locked with those of the charismatic elf watching her. A shiver ran through her limbs and she whispered feebly, as if the words were only for his ears alone:

"Save me..."


The world seemed to go in slow motion for Arrakis as Mistral's eyes fluttered open, and her lips mouthed words seemingly prophetically destined for him. He closed his deep blue eyes painfully, brushing his fingertips against the now bleeding scythe. Whispers and emotions filled his head. Pain, confusion, all indescribable. He felt pity, and yet a menacing hatred threatened to break its chain in the back of his heart. This woman... The blood of those who had killed who he loved flowed in her veins. How could he forgive, especially when she was bringing him so much pain and guilt via his birth? How did Chani put up with this, he wondered? The circumstances were different, yes. But now what was he to do? Could he be callous to the innocent pleas for help? Was this some sort of trap? Maybe he was simply seeing things, her husband was kneeling over her right there! He grimaced. Her gaze was burning holes in him. He opened his eyes and examined his torso, expecting charred, gaping punctures. Seeing none he inhaled deeply through his mouth. He looked at Mistral, and held up his bloodstained hand. The chains threatened to snap and his countenence turned cold and apathetic. He rubbed angrily at his sore eyes, forming red lines down his face that looked eerily like tearstreaks. He turned, and left the tavern, heading for his home, almost hoping the Freelight daughter would hear his exiting thougts. Another night where my family was murdered.


What is happening to me? ~ She could feel the light in her eyes wavering under the pained scrutiny of Larry ~ Why do I feel more sorrow at this sign of rejection from a stranger - albeit one with the mark? ~ She clenched her fists, afraid to look her husband in the eye ~ The scythe mark... surely that must mean he is a Nightblade too?

With horror did she realise that he could very well be one of her father's murderers. The vision of the blood streaks on his cruelly expressionless face flashed across her distraught memory.

I cannot go on like this... I am going mad and Larry must not see me like this... ~ With a half-crazed scream of frustration, she slapped away the hands that reached for her and leapt off, running towards the door.

Running for her sanity...


The mixed, violent emotions were threatening to tear his heart asunder. He kept moving though, at a long, but mechanical gait. Arrakis blinked back tears, and wondered why they were there. Was it the memory of his family? Or was it something more... He hadn't felt this lost in a long time, and he suddenly wished Chani was around. He told himself to stop thinking, that was for the better. But he couldn't loose the images. His mother's corpse, his father's funeral, killing Aragorn Freelight... And that girl! That... Mistral... Why was he dwelling in the past? Why had he let unearthed demons get to him? Shuddering slightly he stooped by the pond in front of his home, scooping the cool water into his hands and washing the blood off his face.


She panted as she dashed through the darkness, hearing the leaves rustling and the grass blades slice her lower knees... in time, she heard a gurgling sound that beckoned towards her exploding heart.

Water.

With a ferocity that had almost crept out of her in recent times, she sprinted towards the stream and began to spray herself with the icy cold fluid...


Arrakis's eyes widened and he staggered back, hissing in pain. The blood poured strongly from the scythe, as though it had it's own beating heart, pumping out blood. Two wretched tears slid down his cheeks, and he ululated in agony. He couldn't bear to look at the person who was causing him so much pain! Sobbing audibly, he lay down in the grass, writhing in pain. "Stop! Stop hurting me!" He stumbled to his feet and tried to run, but tripped again. His vision was going red...


Blind impulse drove her staggering towards the quivering figure which repelled her even in this moment of weakness. She reached out, her trembling hand freezing as it made contact with the glowing spot. The mucus-like fluid was warm and smelt raw, so that she nearly retched.

Blood...

Afterward, she would not be able to recall how, in her delirious state, she had been able to carry his rock-hard body into his house, hearing his alternating muttered and loud oaths. All that was a blur. She only knew one thing: her heart was driving her, willing her to render whatever service she could to this man.

As he lay there now, she unsheathed the Shattered Reality and cupped his hands over the hilt, hoping that he could somehow be rejuvenated by its regeneration properties.

Then she backed away to a safe distance, still lingering at the locked door, her frantic eyes desperate to detect signs of his recovery. Little did she know that all this concern, all this inexplanable feeling was repelling the darkness for herself...


Arrakis was beginning to choke on his own blood when another shock of pain wretched through him. The sword, belonging to Mistral, was having a reverse effect on him and killing him even faster. Gathering all the strength in his disciplined muscles, Arrakis concentrated and tossed the blade aside. It skillfully spiraled through the air and imbedded itself in the doorframe. Staggering to get up, he then ran out of the home, bleeding and coughing, making his way for the woods.


Never had she felt so alone as now.

Never mind that she was married... never mind that Isabeau was just a thousand miles away... never mind that somewhere, Kazara would once in a while think of her.

She knelt on the floor, staring listlessly at her own hands. Blood... everywhere... it was a sea of red, and perhaps the hilt of Brightblade would be smeared by his blood, too.

It did not matter.

Nothing did.

As she got to her feet, she floated to the yawning door and bolted it from the inside. It was odd, why she was doing all this. This was not her home. It was the home of her enemy. But somewhere, something was calling her... directing her...

Snuffing out the last flicker of light, she sprawled herself on the ground, staring into the darkness.

Enough was enough.

Time to put an end to the torment.

Her shaky hand reached for the Celestial Fury, she found herself sobbing quietly. Drawing it out, she aimed for her wrist...


The tears flowed freely down Arrakis's face, mingling with fresh blood and crusted earth, then dropping in single file to further stain his sweaty tunic or fall to the ground. Sobs escaped his throat hoarsely between jagged breaths, echoing uncertainty and woe. The whispers that dashed through his mind would not leave him be. The cries, the mutters, the haunting voices and quick, flashing visions that he knew then with significant certainty would be the death of him. His feet carried him to the woods, where he quietly stumbled into a familiar, welcoming bed of leaves. He rubbed at his eyes, blinking severely to see clearly again through tears and blood and dirt. His whole body shuddered. With one hard swallow he forced himself to lay down, hugging his cloak close to his shoulders. Still breathing hard, he eyed the dark, starry sky. A dry mouth made it difficult to curse providence. He closed his eyes and curled his knees to his chest, trying to find sanctuary with the darkness. A cold, foreboding gust of wind rustled the leaves and tossed his dark brown locks. His jaw clenched tight, and his hand formed into a fist. Something was happening. He had to be there. It didn't matter if he died. He had to. Running on pure adreniline, he raised to his feet and ran back to his home, his hardened muscles breaking through the locked door. The scythe on his collarbone glowed ferociously, but as he had always done, he ignored pain, regarding it as weakness. His voice could only manage a whisper. He reached out his hand to Mistral. "Don't..."



She uttered a soft cry of shock as the sudden cacophony of splintering doors jerked her into action, the edge of the katana brushing against her wrist. It seemed as if a thousand elephants were scrambling to cram into her head and, not succeeding, trampling on it with venom.

PING!

"You did not have to come back." ~ She spoke without lifting her head, wincing a little from the stench of dried blood. Yet she did not pull away from his feverish, hesitant touch.

The ghosts in the room were battling amongst themselves. The chorus of wails, moans, sighs, shrieks and roars jarred against her ears. She tasted salt as her eyes closed.

What must I do?

Shaking from the malignant growth of anger, sorrow and cynicism, she found herself giggling - of all things! - in the face of this enigmatic elf. Her chest heaved unsteadily as she spoke on quietly, ignoring the wilful stream of tears streaking down her cheeks.

"There is no hope. The past is upon me, and ... perhaps, you."

It was a statement, not a plea. She was beyond that, and beyond her tears.

She was tired.

So very tired.

"Nothing can undo the past." ~ She knew now... even without his saying it, that he hated her entire clan - an possibly more - he had killed her father, and still his fury was unabated.

"But if it will bring you any consolation - no matter how little, go ahead." ~ She closed her eyes, ignoring the babbling voices within.

"I can think of no other person I would rather die by, in his hand."


Arrakis shook his head, the scythe on his colorbone was numbing his entire body with tingling pain. "Mistral..." The name flowed off his lips for the first time, and he was ashamed that he savored it somehow, though he was not sure whether it was hidden rapture or ancient bloodlust. Walking through the pain was like carving through a wall of thorns, but somehow he made it to her side, stooped beside her. His breath was shallow and jagged. He looked at her once with sad blue eyes, and took the wrist that bled in his hand. He held it to his collar... And it began to heal. His entire body was shuddering as what energy he had left seemed to pour into mending the fragile woman.



She, too, had allowed Arrakis to hold on to her wrist, long after his healing powers had taken effect. Barely able to see through the well of tears that continued to flood her eyes, she gave a horrified shriek as she heard the familiar howl from the incensed ranger as he charged in.

"Don't, Larry!" ~ Instinctively, she flung herself protectively over her samaritan, her heart beating erratically against his in her wild leap ~ "He saved me..." ~ The irony was not lost on her already pounding head; she heard the rush of blood in her ears ~ "...he saved me..." ~ A curl of her raven black hair tumbled down and brushed against the half-elf's face.

"Why did you save me?" ~ The whisper was fierce, demanding. She would not take silence for an answer ~ "Tell me, why did you save me?"

It was a poignant moment. One of those she knew she would always remember. She dreaded the response, yet hungered for it. It troubled her that she resented her husband's presence, and frightened her why such thoughts were entering her head.

Somewhere, in the tangle of mess forming in her head, she knew the truth.

I do not care anymore... not about what others think... except for him... ~ And the him was not the bumbling ranger...


Larry heard Mistral's plea and realized that he had supposed that Arrakis was her attacker, and now realized this was not so. He abruptly stopped and brought his sword down to his side.

"So, who attacked you? I see blood from the both of you, yet no attacker. Tell me who has injured you both, and I will see to your revenge".

He turned to Arrakis, and asked again,

"Who is responsible for this?"