Reflections [closed for RainingHeat]

[FitsOfPassion]

The valiant lay in crumpled masses.

Their bodies mangled and twisted, broken bone and pierced flesh huddling in their final embrace across the battlefield. The steam still rose off the corpses of some, while others filled the cracks in the red marble flooring with their spilling blood. Shattered staffs and broken sword blades littered the Dark One's chamber which he surveyed briefly. It was a pathetic band of heroes, but as he watched their motionless bodies, unstirred beneath his feet, he realized it was the best most recent attempt he could recall.

The cathedral grounds were a group of tall skyward spires of red glass and dark stone coupled with an unearthly skeletal graveyard that served as its courtyard. He traveled the length of the now quiet battlefield realizing his own personal guard were also among the perished. Each of his own men present for the ordeal had fallen in the attack but such losses where trivial and acceptable. While the insurgent attacks grew fewer and fewer, it still provided him with ample sword practice for the struggle ahead. The Dark One was not concerned. As his grip on the lands grew tighter more and more rebellious peasants escaped his grasp. They would rally one final time, but even that did not worry him. What occupied his cold steel mind was the childhood playmate that drew near.

And her paradoxical companion.

 

[RainingHeat]

The childhood playmate ....
And her paradoxical companion.....


She had been marked since childhood. Not by any man, or woman's hand for that matter. The markings that adorned her skin had started to form so very early on. The soft designs, that grew as she did, only served to cement the power that he knew she possessed. That existed inside her, and that gained in strength with each passing summer, the markings growing brighter, deeper....
The childhood playmate....

"It must be done my daughter, there no longer is a choice"

His words were weighted, heavy, resigned with the fact that he had looked forward, something he did not want to do, but he had no choice, not anymore.

He had seen the reflection, the future staring back at him. He had thought he had seen The Dark One's eyes, boring into his own.

"Go ahead, send her" the words appeared to float in the reflection.

The future, a future of death, destruction, blood, screams. A future of darkness, where light struggles to break thru, and can not. A future where, to look in one's eyes, you would see only agony, despair, without hope, without love, without life.

All because of one man. The paradoxial companion.....

What he refused to reveal, to her or the other, was that his daughter was involved in that future, no matter the outcome. Her life, in the future of death and destruction, was one of pain, misery, her soul empty, He having taken her love, her heart, her compassion, and turning it into torture, enslavement, suffering, and eventually, death, by His hand. Her only hope of survival, was to carry out what the present, the now, commanded, desired..... to kill Him, before He becomes the Demon of the future, before he becomes The Dark One.

If only he could make her understand fully, without revealing the horror. But as her father he could not.

She turned away. The idea of killing was repugnant to her, sickening. The idea of using her power, which she treasured, to do such an act, turned her stomach. Yet, she trusted her Father, completely, and knew, if he said it was so, than there was no choice....but, wasn't there always a choice??

What made it worse, was that she would be destined to see, to cause, the death of someone she knew.
Her friend, her childhood friend...since she could remember.

Her memories of childhood were actually quite good, and she remembered Him. Handsome, daring, noble, protective, strong. That was how her child's eyes had seen Him. Playing hide and seek in the wood, that one afternoon, she using her budding powers to find him, sending a small, rolling ball of light tickling at the shadows until it flushed Him out. His laugh each time she found him, and she always found him. He was the older brother she never had. Her very best friend, next to her father and the magic that shaped her life.

Now, that friend, that big brother to his daughter, begged him, her father, for help.

To know one's future often was extremely dangerous.

He had not wanted to look, to see the reflection, to know what was to become of his daughter and her friend, a friend he so trusted.

"Sylan.... It is time...."

Now she was 19 summers old. She would be ready...... The markings that colored her skin were complete.

It had been many summers since the girl had seen her friend, had played hide and seek in the wood, so many summers.

"His name is Shank." Her father's voice echoing softly in her ear. A memory, a whisper. She knew that name....

Shank........

***************************​

Name: Sylan Melzarr, daughter of the Mage Ulin Melzarr.

Age: 19 summers

Hair: midnight black

Eyes: that same black shade...

Her body marked.. colorful... her magic strong within her.


http://s1070.photobucket.com/albums/u487/RainandHeat/silver-borne.jpg

 

[FitsOfPassion]

Name: Shank (family unknown)
Retired knight
Age: 30
Hair: Long Black
Eyes: Dark Brown

http://i1172.photobucket.com/albums/r568/fitsofpassion/dark-paladin-1.jpg

He stood at the doorway to Ulin Melzarr's tower staring at the venerable mage in disbelief.

"But if I KNOW that I'm coming how can i possibly succeed? BETTER YET, if i KNOW what will become of me. Why cant i simply alter my future why cant i simply NOT proceed down such a pa-"

He was cut short by the raising of the sorcerer's wrinkled and ringed hand.

Shank had known Ulin since he was a boy, there was always a fondness to the man a feeling that he had not a care in the world, and in the harsh times Shank hand endured that was always a welcomed feeling. Now however it seemed that Ulin had nothing but cares and concerns.

"Nothing shall take you off this path it is your destiny just as sure as the sun will set again so shall you fall from grace, you only can choose to either let it happen or do something about it."

Throwing his hands up in exasperation, Shank knew when he was doomed to loose an argument. He sighed a long frustrated wind.

"I just cant believe this... that's not me... i would never."

"But you will and in a sense since time is but an illusion, you HAVE."

"Ive done everything i could think of I have retired from service, I've lived among men of the cloth in a monastery, Ive given up the drink, Ive given up the code and hung up my axe. If man's fate is written what is the use to struggle or even act as if one has a choice?!"

Ulin looked at him with the kindness he remembered.

"What's written can be re-written but not ignored Shank."

The two talked for a few more moments Ulin shared with him what he must do, and told him that when the time came his own daughter, whom he had trained in the same arts he was a master of, would be ready to aid him.

The two shook hands and parted ways.



Several months later




The once great knight pulled his cloak around his shinning violet and gold armor, the light of the campfire and its embers, casting shadows over his face and the crevices of his gear. The sluice in his helm nearly black, one could not see the troubled look in Shank's eyes as he puzzled over the possibility of a duality to his nature. Ulin had mentioned that evening, that last evening they talked that it was unavoidable. Even now, moments from his destination. Moments from the old man's tower and a girl... no... a woman, whom he hadn't seen in ages, he wondered if he was doing the right thing.

He was startled suddenly by a figure, and snapped out of his reverie. Shank gasped, though not from surprise at being startled and he hoped she didn't notice. Sylan was stunning. The years had cared for her beauty more than any woman he had since seen, and possibly ever would. His doubt was suddenly clouded. Shank didn't stand. Instead he turned back to the fire and spoke over his shoulder at his childhood friend.

"Its been a long time Syl."

 

[RainingHeat]

"Its been a long time Syl."

Indeed it had been a long, long time. The dreams had started again, more nightmare than dream. She had known the time was approaching. Fast approaching and there was nothing she could do to stop it, or even to slow it down.

Her midnight eyes met his, sparkling with the recognition of someone whom she very much had cared about, for the better part of her young life. A slight nod of her head.... "yes, it has Shank".....

As his name slipped from her lips, the memory of a nightmare blasted thru her mind, from the darkest recesses to the very forefront.

***************************************************************

A vision of Him, but it wasn't Him. He was no longer human, not anymore. Consumed by evil, He was a Demon, a Monster, His eyes glowing a hellish red. He was drenched in the spilled blood of the innocents He had slaughtered. Their cries still echoed in the stench of the darkness that surrounded him.

And at His feet, she lay, dripping with that same blood, begging Him to stop, begging Him for mercy, a collar tight about her throat, a chain snaking to His clawed hand, His gutteral laugh echoing in her ears. The cold chill of death all around her.

***********************************************

Sylan shook her head, trying to cast back that horrible vision.

Was that what He was to become, if she could not accomplish her ....... mission? Was that what her Father was hiding from her?

What was most disturbing was her, at His feet.

The vision took her by surprise and for a moment, Syl could not even find her voice. That, for her was dangerous. Her power was in her voice and the spells that she could utter. For her to summon, she must be able to speak, that was her one weakness, a weakness she never told anyone, not even the young Shank when they had been mere kids.

Shaking her head, she cast that vision aside. It would not happen, she would see to it. That was her task, after all, she had promised her father. She had promised Shank.

Shank, her childhood friend. Despite the 11 year difference, he had been her best friend when she was so little. Her big brother, her protector, and always her playmate. Hide and Seek, her favorite game..

************************************************************

Go ahead, send her

The voice so familiar

"Its been a long time Syl."

Both one and the same.

******************************************************

She drew her cloak tighter about her form. The gleam in her eyes reflecting the fire that danced before them. Why would he not look at her? What was he afraid of? Had he seen the visions too?

 

[FitsOfPassion]

She seemed deep in thought, as he had no need to point out and yet had, it HAD been a long time. He wondered if he looked different to her although all that time ago he scarcely wore armor. He was just a boy then. An image of a man not yet forged in the pain and harshness of his life.

Her answer seemed loud to him, but he knew that was only due to the uneasy quiet that surrounded them. The dancing flames crackled as a symphony of crickets sang the silence away.

She looked cold and uncomfortable. Shank finally stood, the sound of his plate mail protection creaking as much as his worn knees. He left his weapon, a large broad axe he had owned since knighthood, leaning against the sitting rock by the fire. Taking several slow steps towards the young woman whom was like a sister to him in youth, and perhaps his last cheerful memory since, he removed his horned helm to reveal a slightly scared face. His straight hair was loose and long, the dark strands framing his large shoulders.

"You've grown up well Sylan, Ulin must be quite proud" tucking the helmet under a shoulder he extended a large callused hand in greeting. Feeling a fool the instant he had done it. It seemed informal and yet the gesture was too late. He grimaced and stared at her, masking the overwhelming sense he had to glance over her very curvacious feminine form. Mentally he was admonishing himself for even having such thoughts, but Shank was a man after all and his recent although unique isolation apparently came with some predictable and common side effects.

 

[RainingHeat]

She actually thought it was quite, honorable, when he removed his helmet and extended his hand. The moment her eyes met his, she saw her playmate, the Shank she had known so long ago. Yes, his face was scarred, worn. It was obvious that he had seen alot, been thru alot. But the boy, was still there, flickering within those eyes.

Reaching out, she took his hand within her own. Hers was warm, the power she possessed could surely be felt within, pulsing with her blood. A smile playing across her lips, she bringing his hand to her face, allowing her delicate soft cheek to gently glide along the surface of his rough palm.

The vision hit her hard, nearly sending her reeling back on her heels...

******************************************************************************************

She had failed. Utterly and completely.

Once more, she whispered a plaintive "I'm sorry" to both her Father, and Shank, both of whom were, dead.

She had tried, and been unable..... unable to loose the beasts she carried within her to destroy Him, and now, now she no longer had the strength to do so. He was too strong, too powerful. If she unleashed her darkness now, she could hurt Him, wound Him, but He would send the beast back upon herself, and her life would be over.

She touched her growing belly.

No, she could not let that happen. She carried life. Her life, and His. Not the Monster that stood before her. Not the Demon that held her in His grasp, her soul and His forever entwined. Shank's life. Within her she carried the merging of her and Shank's life.

To change the future, she would have to try and influence the past.

She turned away from Him, but not before she whispered a spell, and the reflecting pool began to churn, the image before Him twisting, turning, hazing, disappearing, as the water bubbled and burst forth, a large, vicious, ugly, serpent slithered forth, snapping, nearly getting ahold of His head, before it was sent screaming back into the still churning, roiling, water, which then, once more, went completely calm.

She could feel His rage.

He knew what she carried inside her. Sylan hoped He would not jeapordize that.

"He is not Yours yet....... Dark One" she whispered, her hand again lightly grazing her growing belly, fingers splaying as she caressed the round surface. If He were to look within her eyes, those sparkling, dark orbs, He would see the love she still held for Him, even in this form.

********************************************************************************

Sylan stepped back, breaking the contact between her and Shank. Her face had gone ghost white, the light in her dark eyes dimming just a bit. When she met his questioning gaze she could only shake her head.

"I can not Shank, I am sorry"

She could not reveal to him what she had just seen.

 

[FitsOfPassion]

Sylan's hand was warmer than he expected. The heat ran up his arm and it wasn't till just then that Shank realized just how cold he had felt. While their flesh met only briefly, the once knight managed to rekindle an eternity of memories in that touch. It took a moment for him to realize her eyes had clouded over, as if she was looking through him and far off into the distance. For a second Shank felt the heat vanish from their union and at that moment she let go of his hand.

"I can not Shank, I am sorry" she spoke to him apologetically, the remorse genuine in her eyes.

He was as puzzled as he was regretful that his palm was now without hers but as he lowered his arm, stupefied, he understood that the gift Ulin had possessed, which he passed on and cultivated in his daughter, was possibly granting her visions or magickal insights which were beyond him. His blood ran cold. Ulin never told Shank just how much Sylan knew of what needed be done. He made it clear that it was not the warriors place to tell her, that she would be instructed in all she needed know. He need only guide and lead them. But did she realize the true nature of the monster they would ultimately face? And if so had she seen it? It took Shank months for him to come to terms with what the wizard required of him, why the secrecy among them if their path was towards the same ends?

Shank detested his friend's methods and riddles. He hoped she knew little and felt a knot grow uneasily in his stomach at the odds of such a desire.

"Its ok Sylan," he began clenching his fist at his side and turning to walk towards the supply pack near the fire. "I understand." Arriving at the campfire which was now burning low, he opened a knapsack and dug through several items in search of something. "I have some spiced meat i was going to save for our first night, but it seems your father as usual is content on staying one step ahead of me."

Finding the food Shank began unpacking it, attempting to ignore the uneasy feeling he had around the beautiful woman. "I thought I was meeting you at the tower."