Please note that all characters, places and information in this story from
the Black Jewels Trilogy completely belong to Anne Bishop. Even those
created by me belong to the author for they involve her races and worlds.
No profit is being made from the creation of this tale and it is purely for
entertainment.
*Finally, things are coming together, or rather large tempers. I warn anyone from here on in that there will be snarly comments, insults, and of course, the joys of father / daughter bonding. I hope that everyone will enjoy what I have planned for our arrogant and rather grumpy Evarian who will eventually (next chapter) join Surreal in learning how to deal with a large number of over dominating bully-type warlord princes. And lets not forget pesky younger brothers.*
*Rachel Hunt: Since you have threatened with the Rubber Chicken of Death, I hereby solemnly swear that there will be no more rewrites.*
*Goddessnmb!: Me? Evil? Ye . . . . I mean, no! I guess with the whole Lucivar / Daemon thing, I just figured that after knowing someone for 1700 years, you'd be able to figure out someone's personality. Don't get me wrong; I think Lucivar is hilarious and great fun, but simply a bit of a dope. Summary, placed up just for you!*
*ElVeNdEsTiNy: I know! I have always loved the characters! Aren't they simply fabulous! Such temper, snarliness and amusement all packaged within several interesting individuals!*
*Kiana Darkk: More is here! Sigh. Sorry for taking so long. It is so hard to find the time to write for general amusement. Hope you enjoy the next chapter!*
*Amber: You feel sorry for Lucivar? You just wait! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha! But don't worry; MOST of it is good torture. ;)*
16 / Terreille
Evarian shifted uncomfortably when the large man standing in the doorway just stared at her. He had paled a shade or two since her arrival and she darted a quick glance at Colthvar who also looked ready to keel over. What in the name of Hell was going on?
"Did I miss something?" she asked, mildly annoyed at having everyone staring at her. Her eyes widened when she recognized her grandfather Connar standing silently, watching her. Then her attention shifted to Jolandar. Her discomfort vanished and she smiled sharply. "Everyone out," she purred. "Except him."
"No," Connar called out. Stepping forward to stop her stealthy approach. "It is not your debt to call in. It's mine."
She spun around to face him and snarled, "What could he possibly owe you? You were killed in-"
"No, I wasn't." His cold, glazed eyes rose to stare at his son. "I was slaughtered by my own son."
Evarian stared at Connar for a moment, and then closed her eyes, yielding to the greater debt.
"So be it," she said. She opened her eyes and stared at Jolandar, surprised to feel tears gather and almost spill over onto her cheeks.
Even though he had lied to her for centuries, tried to control her live with emotional tools and drugs best left forgotten, she couldn't help but feel somewhat upset. She clenched her jaw and swallowed her emotions. He had been the only father she had known, and despite her anger towards him, she remembered how much he had helped shape the woman she had become.
"Before you return to the Darkness, know that Askavi will survive," she said quietly.
Jolandar nodded once and braced his feet.
Evarian walked past her grandfather and touched his shoulder, placing a shield around him should Jolandar try to speed his journey to the darkness. Before Connar died again, she wanted to talk to him. Colthvar grabbed Roldar and pulled him out into the hallway, carefully avoiding the edgy warlord princes. Evarian followed her two brothers to the outside courtyard.
Tersa tried to grab her arm but she avoided contact with the woman. There was an odd, muddled feeling she could sense between herself and the unknown men who had arrived at Askavi. She just didn't feel ready to know who they were and where they came from.
They stopped walking when they reached a small bench. Evarian sunk into it, feeling emotionally spent. Roldar stared up to the window that held his father; the pain of Jolandar's betrayal and imminent death was too much for him. His eyes trailed down to stare at a singular stone on the ground and he sat in the dirt.
A flash of jewelled power shattered the windows, the sounds of shuffling footsteps and shouts, and finally a cry of pain. Jolanar Valin was defiant to the last. She felt the surge of a dark jewel as someone finished the kill. It was a combined effort. Obviously Jolandar owed more than one for his betrayal and lies.
Colthvar passed impatiently in front of her. His movements were starting to annoy her. Something was obviously bothering her eldest brother.
"Would you stop that?" she snapped. "Just tell me what is bothering you?
"What was so important that we needed to discuss?" he asked, stopping his movement and sitting down next to her.
She shook her head, not yet willing to tell him that she wasn't his sister.
"You know about your true blood line?" he asked cautiously.
She glared at him, feeling her anger surge forth. Was there no end to this lie? "Not all the specifics. All I know is that I thought Jolandar was the only lying prick. I was obviously mistaken. How could you keep something like that from me?"
"I did feel some duty to my father, Evarian. You can understand that. I saw it in your eyes when Connar was going to kill him."
Evarian paused and took a breath. "I suppose. D-do you know who my parents were?"
It was hard to ask him; more because she knew that this was her true family. One was sitting next to her, and the other was in the dirt. But the need to know was simply too much.
"Have you ever heard of Lucivar Yaslana?" Colthvar asked, looking uncomfortable.
"You must be joking." Her voice was flat, but it held a slight tremor. "He was a maniac! Well, according to Prythian he was. I guess it doesn't really matter because he died ten years ago. I suppose that it is for the best. I've heard you talk about mom, so I can imagine how I was conceived. What an awful thought."
Colthvar's smile was pained and his eyes held sympathy. "Actually, he is very much alive."
Evarian paled and then said, "Well its not like I'll ever meet him. He hasn't been seen in Terreille for over decade."
Colthvar whimpered and Roldar turned to stare at her. His eyes met his brother's and they both began to laugh hysterically.
"This isn't funny," she hissed.
"No, it isn't," a low voice said. It was the rather large eyrien from the upper floor and he was standing only a few feet to her left.
Evarian started at his boots and worked her way up. Tight pants, leather vest, broad muscular shoulders, rather long hair for an eyrien warrior and then the face. Oh, why hadn't she noticed that sooner? The chiselled and angular features, strong gaze and who could forget that . . .
Her head started to spin. It was partly from lack of sleep, food and the emotional upheaval. But something else was in the mix, a dark presence she had felt once before. She grabbed her head in her hands, feeling her sharp nails dig into her skin and draw blood. He moved past her inner barriers with a predatory ease that scared her. He was calling her again, demanding that she speak with him.
Just before she lost consciousness, she muttered, "Why me?"
********
Lucivar watched her crumble. He reacted faster than the young warlord and grabbed her before she ended up in a heap on the ground. Small droplets of blood fell from the small cuts on her scalp that she had made with her nails. He picked her up and for a moment, just held on tightly, cradling her in his arms. Finally, he shifted and moved towards his brother.
He felt a hand on his arm. Lucivar brushed it off easily and turned to stare down at the frightened yet determined Warlord that called Evarian his sister.
"Where are you taking her?" Colthvar demanded.
"It's not you concern," Lucivar snarled. Roldar placed himself in his path and pulled out his blade.
Lucivar's men quickly disarmed the young eyrien warlord and held him back. Colthvar was not so easily taken out. He fought with great strength and skill, something only the greatest warriors achieved. Lucivar almost felt sorry to kill him. Almost.
Daemon stepped into the mix, easily using his black strength to subdue and save Colthvar from possible attack. "Before we fight amongst ourselves," he snarled, "there is something you both need to know. A power, far deeper than the black has found a way into the realms and is interested in Evarian. She needs our protection Warlord, more than yours."
"I will not leave her," Colthvar said, reaching to take his brother from the guard that held him.
"No one said you'd have to Warlord," Saetan said, soothingly. "I'm sure our young Queen will need her things. Pack anything you think necessary and come to Kaeleer with us."
"She is not going to be pleased with this," Roldar said quietly, staring warily at Evarian who still was out cold.
"No, she is not," Colthvar said, an edge to his smile. He met Lucivar's eyes. "But I'm not going to be the one she's pissed at."
17 / Heaven
Dragon shifted in his sleep, ignoring the pull he felt from the outside world. The dreams kept coming, leaving him restless in his well-deserved void, a place free from outside influence and pain.
And yet he felt a calling, a summons to rejoin the world of the Blood. It was a place where he had fought to subdue the Dark Lord and locked him away in the Realm of Heaven.
The summons was getting stronger and he finally recognized it. It was coming from Lorn, his long-ago Brother. And yet, that wasn't the only pull. Someone else was in need of him.
Dragon opened his eyes and clawed his way out of the grave. He felt a craving to see the night sky.
*Finally, things are coming together, or rather large tempers. I warn anyone from here on in that there will be snarly comments, insults, and of course, the joys of father / daughter bonding. I hope that everyone will enjoy what I have planned for our arrogant and rather grumpy Evarian who will eventually (next chapter) join Surreal in learning how to deal with a large number of over dominating bully-type warlord princes. And lets not forget pesky younger brothers.*
*Rachel Hunt: Since you have threatened with the Rubber Chicken of Death, I hereby solemnly swear that there will be no more rewrites.*
*Goddessnmb!: Me? Evil? Ye . . . . I mean, no! I guess with the whole Lucivar / Daemon thing, I just figured that after knowing someone for 1700 years, you'd be able to figure out someone's personality. Don't get me wrong; I think Lucivar is hilarious and great fun, but simply a bit of a dope. Summary, placed up just for you!*
*ElVeNdEsTiNy: I know! I have always loved the characters! Aren't they simply fabulous! Such temper, snarliness and amusement all packaged within several interesting individuals!*
*Kiana Darkk: More is here! Sigh. Sorry for taking so long. It is so hard to find the time to write for general amusement. Hope you enjoy the next chapter!*
*Amber: You feel sorry for Lucivar? You just wait! Bwa ha ha ha ha ha ha! But don't worry; MOST of it is good torture. ;)*
16 / Terreille
Evarian shifted uncomfortably when the large man standing in the doorway just stared at her. He had paled a shade or two since her arrival and she darted a quick glance at Colthvar who also looked ready to keel over. What in the name of Hell was going on?
"Did I miss something?" she asked, mildly annoyed at having everyone staring at her. Her eyes widened when she recognized her grandfather Connar standing silently, watching her. Then her attention shifted to Jolandar. Her discomfort vanished and she smiled sharply. "Everyone out," she purred. "Except him."
"No," Connar called out. Stepping forward to stop her stealthy approach. "It is not your debt to call in. It's mine."
She spun around to face him and snarled, "What could he possibly owe you? You were killed in-"
"No, I wasn't." His cold, glazed eyes rose to stare at his son. "I was slaughtered by my own son."
Evarian stared at Connar for a moment, and then closed her eyes, yielding to the greater debt.
"So be it," she said. She opened her eyes and stared at Jolandar, surprised to feel tears gather and almost spill over onto her cheeks.
Even though he had lied to her for centuries, tried to control her live with emotional tools and drugs best left forgotten, she couldn't help but feel somewhat upset. She clenched her jaw and swallowed her emotions. He had been the only father she had known, and despite her anger towards him, she remembered how much he had helped shape the woman she had become.
"Before you return to the Darkness, know that Askavi will survive," she said quietly.
Jolandar nodded once and braced his feet.
Evarian walked past her grandfather and touched his shoulder, placing a shield around him should Jolandar try to speed his journey to the darkness. Before Connar died again, she wanted to talk to him. Colthvar grabbed Roldar and pulled him out into the hallway, carefully avoiding the edgy warlord princes. Evarian followed her two brothers to the outside courtyard.
Tersa tried to grab her arm but she avoided contact with the woman. There was an odd, muddled feeling she could sense between herself and the unknown men who had arrived at Askavi. She just didn't feel ready to know who they were and where they came from.
They stopped walking when they reached a small bench. Evarian sunk into it, feeling emotionally spent. Roldar stared up to the window that held his father; the pain of Jolandar's betrayal and imminent death was too much for him. His eyes trailed down to stare at a singular stone on the ground and he sat in the dirt.
A flash of jewelled power shattered the windows, the sounds of shuffling footsteps and shouts, and finally a cry of pain. Jolanar Valin was defiant to the last. She felt the surge of a dark jewel as someone finished the kill. It was a combined effort. Obviously Jolandar owed more than one for his betrayal and lies.
Colthvar passed impatiently in front of her. His movements were starting to annoy her. Something was obviously bothering her eldest brother.
"Would you stop that?" she snapped. "Just tell me what is bothering you?
"What was so important that we needed to discuss?" he asked, stopping his movement and sitting down next to her.
She shook her head, not yet willing to tell him that she wasn't his sister.
"You know about your true blood line?" he asked cautiously.
She glared at him, feeling her anger surge forth. Was there no end to this lie? "Not all the specifics. All I know is that I thought Jolandar was the only lying prick. I was obviously mistaken. How could you keep something like that from me?"
"I did feel some duty to my father, Evarian. You can understand that. I saw it in your eyes when Connar was going to kill him."
Evarian paused and took a breath. "I suppose. D-do you know who my parents were?"
It was hard to ask him; more because she knew that this was her true family. One was sitting next to her, and the other was in the dirt. But the need to know was simply too much.
"Have you ever heard of Lucivar Yaslana?" Colthvar asked, looking uncomfortable.
"You must be joking." Her voice was flat, but it held a slight tremor. "He was a maniac! Well, according to Prythian he was. I guess it doesn't really matter because he died ten years ago. I suppose that it is for the best. I've heard you talk about mom, so I can imagine how I was conceived. What an awful thought."
Colthvar's smile was pained and his eyes held sympathy. "Actually, he is very much alive."
Evarian paled and then said, "Well its not like I'll ever meet him. He hasn't been seen in Terreille for over decade."
Colthvar whimpered and Roldar turned to stare at her. His eyes met his brother's and they both began to laugh hysterically.
"This isn't funny," she hissed.
"No, it isn't," a low voice said. It was the rather large eyrien from the upper floor and he was standing only a few feet to her left.
Evarian started at his boots and worked her way up. Tight pants, leather vest, broad muscular shoulders, rather long hair for an eyrien warrior and then the face. Oh, why hadn't she noticed that sooner? The chiselled and angular features, strong gaze and who could forget that . . .
Her head started to spin. It was partly from lack of sleep, food and the emotional upheaval. But something else was in the mix, a dark presence she had felt once before. She grabbed her head in her hands, feeling her sharp nails dig into her skin and draw blood. He moved past her inner barriers with a predatory ease that scared her. He was calling her again, demanding that she speak with him.
Just before she lost consciousness, she muttered, "Why me?"
********
Lucivar watched her crumble. He reacted faster than the young warlord and grabbed her before she ended up in a heap on the ground. Small droplets of blood fell from the small cuts on her scalp that she had made with her nails. He picked her up and for a moment, just held on tightly, cradling her in his arms. Finally, he shifted and moved towards his brother.
He felt a hand on his arm. Lucivar brushed it off easily and turned to stare down at the frightened yet determined Warlord that called Evarian his sister.
"Where are you taking her?" Colthvar demanded.
"It's not you concern," Lucivar snarled. Roldar placed himself in his path and pulled out his blade.
Lucivar's men quickly disarmed the young eyrien warlord and held him back. Colthvar was not so easily taken out. He fought with great strength and skill, something only the greatest warriors achieved. Lucivar almost felt sorry to kill him. Almost.
Daemon stepped into the mix, easily using his black strength to subdue and save Colthvar from possible attack. "Before we fight amongst ourselves," he snarled, "there is something you both need to know. A power, far deeper than the black has found a way into the realms and is interested in Evarian. She needs our protection Warlord, more than yours."
"I will not leave her," Colthvar said, reaching to take his brother from the guard that held him.
"No one said you'd have to Warlord," Saetan said, soothingly. "I'm sure our young Queen will need her things. Pack anything you think necessary and come to Kaeleer with us."
"She is not going to be pleased with this," Roldar said quietly, staring warily at Evarian who still was out cold.
"No, she is not," Colthvar said, an edge to his smile. He met Lucivar's eyes. "But I'm not going to be the one she's pissed at."
17 / Heaven
Dragon shifted in his sleep, ignoring the pull he felt from the outside world. The dreams kept coming, leaving him restless in his well-deserved void, a place free from outside influence and pain.
And yet he felt a calling, a summons to rejoin the world of the Blood. It was a place where he had fought to subdue the Dark Lord and locked him away in the Realm of Heaven.
The summons was getting stronger and he finally recognized it. It was coming from Lorn, his long-ago Brother. And yet, that wasn't the only pull. Someone else was in need of him.
Dragon opened his eyes and clawed his way out of the grave. He felt a craving to see the night sky.
