By: Silvanoshei
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone or anything from the Dragonlance series
Author's Note: Back for round four, eh?
I'm SOO happy! We actually had a thunderstorm today! *happy dance* So, I just sat outside in the rain for a while and thought about – Silvan…yea, I'm pathetic... I also got a new smelly candle! I LOVE them! This one's called Rainbreeze… no need to tell you who it reminded me of … ehe … yea
(Silvan: Next you know it, she'll be buying posters and models of me…
Author: *drool* THERE ARE POSTERS?!
Silvan: *steals her Chai tea* WORK! *gulps it*
Author: waaaaii! *sob* *tug, tug*)
IV.
The tears of Lorac,
Held in thrall by the orb and by Cyan Bloodbane,
Minion of Queen Takhisis,
Minion of evil,
Who alone had the power
Like greedy ravens, two shadows crouched low on the ground. Their black cloaks billowing, the dew had soaked the hems, as they hid from the inattentive guards, pressed against the earth, smelling the fresh scent of grass. Night was their companion and Silence, their guide. A blossom of blood pooled in the soil next to them, neither soaking in nor taking root.
"The Earth refuses to accept our blood," whispered one, his lips smiling cynically, before pulling out a dagger and flipping it for practice. It was a custom, the drawing of thy own blood before the killing of an enemy. All elven assassins preformed it. It was probably some old ritual, a part of a spell for an ancient, forgotten magic, but no one really knew for sure. Maybe it was a protection against the wrath of some distant deity, for, of course, elves were supposed to honor life, not take it. Elven assassins were hated beyond most things, even including ogres, by their own kind. The other figure gripped his companion upon the shoulder and began whispering, his gray eyes closed, "Arda, Súl, Nar, Nen. Tir-met, argarwaen alqua, met dín, lómë lokës caltelperin." Sending their final prayers up to the empty heavens, the bloodstained swans moved into the cover of the birch and cypress trees.
After fleeing to the bushes, Gahiji checked over his weapons one more time, making sure everything was in place. Crouching here in the bushes, ready to murder his king and betray his country, he still was not sure if he was making the right decision. "What if they are right? Those optimistic ones dancing in the street throwing blossoms for their king? Am I making the fatal mistake here? Will my actions, this night, lead all of Silvanesti to ruin?" Feeling panic rise in him, overflowing the boundaries like a gorged river, he closed his eyes, holding his medallion so hard it cut into his hand, and raised his head skyward. His heavy hood fell down and his long length of ebony hair fell down, fluidly over his back, curling on the ground. Opening his golden eyes, he looked at the moon, craving its every crater into his mind, its clear shin alighting his features and the tattoo that swirled up his left cheekbone and onto his forehead, above his eye. He heard a nightingale call out in the night, and his moment of peace fell away like shattered glass. Now was the time. He answered the mimicked call and moved closer to the balcony.
Gahiji easily leapt up over the balcony railing, his feet making no sound upon the marble, and ducked down, into the cover of darkness, waiting for Ormand to come. A shadow crossed over seconds later. Nodding to him, Ormand crept up to the door, and opened his hand. A white, shimmering ball of light, a faultless pearl of energy, was cradled in his slender fingers, lighting his face eerily. He opened his hand further and pushed the ball into the key hold, and both heard a click, disarming both the metal and the magic. Smiling slightly, Ormand gave the door an experimental push. The door opened silently. Ormand stretched out his hand once more, facing his palm four different directions and closed his eyes, concentrating. "No other spells," he whispered, shrugging and ducked in. Taking a deep breath, Gahiji followed. Ormand sidled up to the closest side of the ornate bed and jerked his neck in the other direction, indicating that Gahiji was supposed to go around. Ormand reached to his side and drew his dagger, his eyes reflected in the blade. Gray starlight.
Gahiji slid over the floor, a panther in the deepest, thickest forest. His eyes watched for any movement, noting every object. Stopping at the corner of the bed, all he could hear was the Speaker's gentle breathing. He moved along the edge of the bed, his back against the folds of the silken covers. Drawing his own dagger, Gahiji fingered the griffon-headed hilt, running his fingernail over the ruby jewel that made the eye. The griffon was screaming, its feathered crest raised and mouth open, but whether it was from anger or pain, Gahiji did not know. Standing up suddenly, Gahiji raised his hand and prepared to strike. The dagger gleamed with the crystal moonlight, molten quicksilver.
"Looking for me?" a cold voice said, and Gahiji felt a prick of cold metal in his gut. Silvanoshei lay, eyes wide open, his face grim and a jagged knife in his hand. "I can pull out your entire intestines with one twist …put the dagger down. Now." The griffon dagger fell to the ground, metal clattering on stone.
"Well, Your Majesty, you must have the ears of a fox to have heard us…" Gahiji said appraisingly, smiling bleakly. The flames of failure burned in his abdomen. His lips were suddenly parched. "Well, no matter that I was worried about killing my King … he seems quite well prepare … but still…Ormand." A flicker of movement caught Gahiji's eye. Ormand was creeping over the bed, his hand clutching his knife; the serpent was coiling its smooth green scales, and raised its head to strike.
Silvan looked up into the face of his would-be-assassin, noting the man's eye movements. He had not come alone. Samar had always taught him to be prepared. Silvan's right fist clenched the two smaller throwing knives he held under the covers. Darting his head to the right, he aimed for the other's throat, hitting his mark true. The corpse slumped to the floor, blood dripping down his neck, the knives still imbedded deeply in his air passage. His eyes were blank, a desolate desert in which nothing lived. The other assassin swallowed with difficulty. Silvan shut his eyes, and breathed, but then opened them a second later, a bright, glowing crimson. Slowly, he got up, poking the assassin in the stomach. "Move," he said curtly. Picking up the silver bell by his bedside table, Silvan rang it once.
Racing in, his bodyguards pulled out their swords and led the assassin to a sealed room, and took out the body of the other, apologizing endlessly and seeking their King's forgiveness. They also summoned a healer to check if Silvanoshei had any wounds and a mage to put up a temporary stronger blocking spell. Finally, at his orders, they left him in peace. Silvan slid down to the floor, shaking, curling into a ball. "Why? Why must they? Why do they prey on the weaker?… I'm so tired. Tired of struggling. I feel like I'm caught in a spider's web. I can't move … I'm slowly being eaten."
"My gods, your Majesty! How did you survive? We will need to add extra security right away! Guards and spells and —" Glaucous rambled on. Silvan sighed, his eyes half-closed, his elbow bent on the table; chin resting on the palm of his hand. Not bothering to listen, he caught Kiryn's eye and looked meaningfully at him. Kiryn almost undetectably nodded once.
The room they were now in had once been Lorac's tactical planning room from the days of the Dream and Bloodbane. A dignified and Romanesque style preceded the place, with its large pillars, painted dome and open spaces. Maps and trophies decorated the walls and various corners of the room. A shinny helm and suit of silver owned the place of honor, near the center of the dome.
Turning to Konnal, Silvan interrupted Glaucous's rant about lazy guards and asked, "Well, General, what do you think of all this?" "That is the trick… to test him. And then keep picking at him till he squirms…I swear he had something to do with this…"
"I regret that we were ill prepared for this attack. I will make sure to post additional guards and I believe that it is wise to not allow your Majesty to leave the palace till we have determined it is safe."
"Slimy serpent. How predictable…" Politely, Silvanoshei replied, "And I expect that this will be a very long time General, as long as you are in control and not I, the true king."
The silence was getting oppressive. Clearing his throat, Konnal leaned forward, "I believe my King has misunderstood my intentions. If you would be so kindly as —"
"No, General. I will not be hid away like a weak child. What will my people think of me? And I believe that I have understood your intentions very well. Too well." Silvan looked him squarely in the eye.
"Ahem," Glaucous coughed. "My King, I second the General's suggestion. It is a wise precaution your Eminence. We simply cannot afford to take any risks with your life, especially since you have returned to us so amazingly—"
"And you would confine me to my chambers? Not allowing me to part take in the everyday affairs of my kingdom?" interrupted Silvan, furious.
"Your Majesty, let us not forget that the House can overrule you in any decision you make if they feel you are erroneous in your judgment," Kiryn spoke softly from the edge of the table. Silvan swallowed and took a deep breath. Addressing the General and mage, he said in a calm, easy voice,
"There is no need to ban me to my quarters. As you could tell from last night, I'm perfectly capable of defending myself if necessary. I agree that we do need to tighten security, and that I should not be allowed to exit the palace, but please, do not ban me from helping my people." Looking at each other, slightly dumbfounded, Konnal nodded and Glaucous shrugged and smiled.
"Diplomacy does work…" thought Silvan, smiling a little himself.
After settling the details of the extra spells and guards, the Speaker rose, gracefully walking out of the meeting room, his majestic sapphire robes snapping in private triumph behind him. The remaining group dissolved quickly, seeing to their duties.
Stepping out the glossy golden door to the garden, Silvan ignored everyone and went to search in the rose hedges. "Well, in the meantime, I can go out and see Amon. Wonder why he hasn't brought me my roses yet?"
"Ah, your Majesty!" Amon said happily, putting down his tools and standing up to greet Silvan. After inquiring after his roses, Amon nodded in regret. "Yes, I do apologize my Lord. No one except the highest-ranking officials were allowed to visit you after your accident. Would you like them now?" Thanking the Woodshaper and inviting him to give him a tour of the gardens, the King sincerely enjoyed his visit.
"I also wanted to tell you, Amon, I'm gaining more respect from General Konnal and Advisor Glaucous. They are finally allowing me to go over some of the kingdom's business and actually get involved," Silvan informed the gardener, who's face had broken into a smile. "I have also," he added in an undertone, as they passed under some hazelnut trees, "given thought to your warning about the shield." Amon's face grew serious.
"Your Majesty has surely seen now its devastating effects," Amon replied, his face waning.
"Yes," Silvan said in a deadened tone, "it eats us alive. Everyone is grim and tired. Our hearts beat a little slower each day, our wings fade as those of a dying butterfly. I believe that it must come down, the hard part is convincing the House."
"I have faith that you will succeed."
"Sometimes faith is not enough."
Hidden among the wide, branching pomegranate trees, surrounded by red snapdragons, Kiryn sat on a mossy rock, waiting for Silvan. Listening to the birds chirp, he let his mind wander, picking at the trimmings of his robes. "Why would anyone try to assassinate the king? What would that solve? It would make things even more complex…Fools. Is that why Silvan wishes to meet with me? I wonder… does he seek my counsel? If that is the case, I think I should arrange a meeting between myself, Silvan and Rolan of the kirath. He is a wise, honorable person, Silvan will do well to seek his advice." Reaching out, Kiryn gently pulled a fat, dull pink pomegranate off a branch, the leaves quivering above him. Splitting open the fruit carefully as to avoid staining his robes with the juice, Kiryn pulled out a few plump seeds. His tongue rolling over them, they exploded in sweet, succulent tartness, like little fireworks for the senses. The living consumed the fruit of the dead.
"Damn them, these elves. I hate them, I HATE them!" Cyan Bloodbane screamed to himself, almost spitting with rage. "Let them rot in hell, they are a hex, an insidious plague. I could just tear them into shreds, let them moan for their wives and children and parents and siblings in a river of rich blood and gore," he thought, his eyes half-lidded and licking his lips. But, shaking his head slightly, he frowned. Pulling open his robes slightly, showing a perfect, smooth chest, his fingers traced over the pendant he always wore. "If only… But, no, it is much more pleasurable to torment them this way. I know my master; Raistlin Majere gave me this pendant for a very good reason and I will continue to keep my promise of loyalty to him even from his grave. Besides, sucking away their life force, while allowing them to call me their savior is possibly the best and most amusing revenge I could have. Ha! What fools! Even Konnal, even he is becoming the man they all detest and blame. Lorac. Yes…" The wolf in sheep's clothing, sat down, taking a break from pacing around his office. Smiling sardonically, he kept up his internal monologue, "Yes, Lorac. He wasn't as easily overcome, as some might not believe. But, with a little persuasion through both pain and pleasure, he became mine forever." Chuckling softly, Cyan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "And now, who should walk through the door of my night kingdom, but his grandson? And I would be very rude indeed if I did not provide this new Caladon with the same gracious treatment as his grandfather…" Sighing, he closed his eyes, head resting on the hands behind his neck. "Oh, I'm looking forward to this…"
The tears of Lorac,
Held in thrall by the orb and by Cyan Bloodbane,
Minion of Queen Takhisis,
Minion of evil,
Who alone had the power
Author's Note: WAAI! What a disturbing lack of reviews… I'm feeling another depressing chapter coming up… *sobs, and uses Silvan for a tissue*
Silvan: ACK!! LEMME ALONE!!!
Author: *huddles in her corner and cries*
I've also actually been sketching some pictures of Silvan (and Gahiji!) just because they aren't any… boohoo. And they really aren't that bad, I've been drawing since I can remember and attended several art schools and painted, so it's not like the evil fanart that you wince at when you see it… wish I had some way of posting them too…
Notes about the Story: For those of you who do not read Greek mythology (and you should!) the fruit of the dead, a pomegranate, comes from the story of Persephone, daughter of Demeter (goddess of vegetation/grain) and Hades. When Hades kidnapped Persephone to make her his queen, he had her eat a pomegranate seed so she would have to return to him in the underworld for half of the year, creating a Fall and Winter, for then Demeter grieves for her daughter and makes the world grow cold and barren.
The words Ormand speaks in the first part are Tolkien's Elvish. I borrowed a book about it from my guy friend and just added some in this because I thought it was interesting. I desperately hope that no one who reads this knows any Elvish because it's probably horrid grammar. My sincere apologies. I only had the book one night and I didn't have time to learn any stuff about sentence structure or anything. Here's what it was SUPPOSED to say: "Earth, wind, fire, water. Watch over we two bloodstained swans, we two silent, dusk serpents, to shine silver-like"
By the way, "Gahiji" means "hunter" in Egyptian and "Ormand" means "serpentine" in Welsh. I absolutely love making the names mean something for the character…
Just a poem I wrote, dedicated to Silvanoshei-
Throwing sparks at my frozen angel
Gathering the words to coax the fire to start
Words to melt your pretty heart
The ice that coats your beautiful body, seals my soul
My frozen angel…
Your crystal wings refuse to flutter
Eyes, a silver that will never awaken
Eternity keeps us apart
My love for you will never fail
My frozen angel…
Please review, you have no idea how much it means to an author…. thank you.