AN UPSTART INHERITENCE: VI -- MY HEART
The high-ceilinged hall echoed with an eerie kind of silence. The shuffling of boots and the rattle of weapons could not mask the muteness that hung over them. None spoke, each of them caught in their own thoughts and regrets. They were dressed in black: deep, majestic black. The cloak worn by their leader Axel was edged with silver, but however regal, it was still colourless, clanless. They were outcasts. They were damned.
The Melchahim surrounding them were quiet too, they watched, faces drawn with worry and fear, how their Master handed out the massive crossbows and demonstrated their use. The bolts were in individual padded boxes, the tops coloured red to remind them not to turn them upside down. He instructed them not to take them out until the last moment, or the deadly flames might be unleashed prematurely. Some of the fledglings in Axel's black-clad band struggled to see if they could get the bows spanned. Jules went up to one of them.
"Adoile," he said softly and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up furiously, her hair falling in her face. She pulled on the cranequin with all her strength, determined to get the string nocked. "You've done enough," he said.
The crane gave a few increments. "If by that you mean to say I'm not joining you, you're wrong," she said, panting, and forced the string back by another notch.
"This isn't your place," Jules said gently, but insistently.
She gave up on the crossbow and straightened up. "He was my Lord too," she said, and although she struggled to keep her voice down, it echoed through the vaulted hall. Heads turned to look at her. "I have a right to be there!"
Jules shook his head. "No, Adoile."
"I can shoot straight," she insisted, and tried to lift the crossbow up to her shoulder. Her face contorted with the effort, but she managed to level the monster, using both hands. She held it, trembling. She didn't see Axel approaching.
Axel grabbed the crossbow in one hand took it from her. He looked down at her and shook his head briefly and definitively.
She looked at the floor, defeated. Men were allowed to take action, she reminded herself, bitterly. Women were only allowed to suffer.
"Then what am I to do?" she asked desperately. The outcasts stood around them in a rough and silent half-circle. They had no answer. She looked at their blank faces, the almost comically large crossbows they carried. Kainsken, who was now Baldwin, stood off to one side. He fingered the hilt of his sword, and brushed his hair out of his face for the tenth time that night. The twins carried a bow between them; she'd already forgotten which of them it was that would face Kain. Jules looked at her with what could only be pity, and she looked at the floor again, tears stinging her eyes. There was a hand at her shoulder.
Axel bent down to her, his eyes locking with hers. "Mourn us." His voice as dry and a little hoarse, and drifted through the hall like a fragile moth. They were the first words Adoile had ever heard him speak, and the silence that descended in their wake felt brittle and dead. Hesitantly, the outcasts continued their preparations.
Adoile watched them, and realised Axel was right. They were marching to their deaths. Every one of them was doomed, in spite of the help Melchiah had offered them. They didn't stand a chance. The silence was depressing and, Adoile felt, inappropriate. Softly, she began to sing.
My heart bleeds for you
This pain will never end
It was an old song for fallen comrades, slow and sad. After the second line, the young vampire Arvin added his voice to her faltering soprano, and helped her carry the tune.
I'm cold here without you
My Lord, my Lord, my friend
He altered the last line to apply to Raziel and she followed. More and more voices joined in, singing a slow, sad hymn to their Lord, and to themselves.
My eyes bleed tears for you
This grief will have no end
I'm lost here without you
My Lord, my Lord, my friend.
I will not put down my steel, dear father,
I will fight, even without you at my side.
They were ready. With a slight nod of his head, Axel ordered them our the door, and led them through the emptied, foggy streets of Melchiah's city.
I will always hurt for you
My love will have no end
I carry on without you
My Lord, my Lord, my friend
Melchiah saw them out the gate, which closed, creaking loudly, behind them. Adoile climbed the watch-tower to see them go. The road was empty, and dry as dust now that the rain had dried. A fitful wind ruffled their hair and pulled on their black cloaks, mocking, calling to them to abandon this mad ambition.
One night they'll sing for me
My hunger at an end
And carry on without me
My brothers and my friends
Adoile stood on top of the city walls, cold, dead hands gripping the rough stone crenellation, her curls swaying around her tear-stained face. She looked out over the wasteland of the west until her kinsmen were no more than a hint of darkness in the distance. She waited, the howling wind her only companion, to see if anyone would return.
I will not put down my steel, dear father,
I will fight, even without you at my side.
Author's notes:
Well, there you go. Chapter 6. It's a bit short, I know. At first I wanted to combine it with the scene that follows, but they are very different in mood so I decided not to. Hope you like the little song, I adapted it from a sad love-song, which I think shows, but I still think it fits.
Questions:
Am I overstepping the line into melodrama yet? :/
Did the blatant sexism surprise you, or does it seem a natural part of the setting and characters?
Review Responses:
Thank you! I love you all, you're so enthusiastic! Whee! It really does help to have you guys cheering me on, this story has been tricky at times. So, yeah, thanks. Do tell me if you find faults though, even if they're tiny, even if they're huge. I can take it.
About the 'Kainsken vs. Kain' thing, let me just illustrate that for a second...
Ladies and gentlemen, the moment we've all been waiting for, please welcome, in the left corner: it's Kainsken! He's a fledge, he's the worst swordsman to ever call himself a Razelim, and he's got a pointy stick! Give him a hand!
And in the right corner, the one, the only, Kain! The conqueror of Nosgoth, the scourge of the Circle, slayer of the unspoken AND the Hylden lord. He's armed with the Soul Reaver and harder than ever. Give it up!
Ding!
The high-ceilinged hall echoed with an eerie kind of silence. The shuffling of boots and the rattle of weapons could not mask the muteness that hung over them. None spoke, each of them caught in their own thoughts and regrets. They were dressed in black: deep, majestic black. The cloak worn by their leader Axel was edged with silver, but however regal, it was still colourless, clanless. They were outcasts. They were damned.
The Melchahim surrounding them were quiet too, they watched, faces drawn with worry and fear, how their Master handed out the massive crossbows and demonstrated their use. The bolts were in individual padded boxes, the tops coloured red to remind them not to turn them upside down. He instructed them not to take them out until the last moment, or the deadly flames might be unleashed prematurely. Some of the fledglings in Axel's black-clad band struggled to see if they could get the bows spanned. Jules went up to one of them.
"Adoile," he said softly and put a hand on her shoulder. She looked up furiously, her hair falling in her face. She pulled on the cranequin with all her strength, determined to get the string nocked. "You've done enough," he said.
The crane gave a few increments. "If by that you mean to say I'm not joining you, you're wrong," she said, panting, and forced the string back by another notch.
"This isn't your place," Jules said gently, but insistently.
She gave up on the crossbow and straightened up. "He was my Lord too," she said, and although she struggled to keep her voice down, it echoed through the vaulted hall. Heads turned to look at her. "I have a right to be there!"
Jules shook his head. "No, Adoile."
"I can shoot straight," she insisted, and tried to lift the crossbow up to her shoulder. Her face contorted with the effort, but she managed to level the monster, using both hands. She held it, trembling. She didn't see Axel approaching.
Axel grabbed the crossbow in one hand took it from her. He looked down at her and shook his head briefly and definitively.
She looked at the floor, defeated. Men were allowed to take action, she reminded herself, bitterly. Women were only allowed to suffer.
"Then what am I to do?" she asked desperately. The outcasts stood around them in a rough and silent half-circle. They had no answer. She looked at their blank faces, the almost comically large crossbows they carried. Kainsken, who was now Baldwin, stood off to one side. He fingered the hilt of his sword, and brushed his hair out of his face for the tenth time that night. The twins carried a bow between them; she'd already forgotten which of them it was that would face Kain. Jules looked at her with what could only be pity, and she looked at the floor again, tears stinging her eyes. There was a hand at her shoulder.
Axel bent down to her, his eyes locking with hers. "Mourn us." His voice as dry and a little hoarse, and drifted through the hall like a fragile moth. They were the first words Adoile had ever heard him speak, and the silence that descended in their wake felt brittle and dead. Hesitantly, the outcasts continued their preparations.
Adoile watched them, and realised Axel was right. They were marching to their deaths. Every one of them was doomed, in spite of the help Melchiah had offered them. They didn't stand a chance. The silence was depressing and, Adoile felt, inappropriate. Softly, she began to sing.
This pain will never end
It was an old song for fallen comrades, slow and sad. After the second line, the young vampire Arvin added his voice to her faltering soprano, and helped her carry the tune.
My Lord, my Lord, my friend
He altered the last line to apply to Raziel and she followed. More and more voices joined in, singing a slow, sad hymn to their Lord, and to themselves.
This grief will have no end
I'm lost here without you
My Lord, my Lord, my friend.
I will not put down my steel, dear father,
I will fight, even without you at my side.
They were ready. With a slight nod of his head, Axel ordered them our the door, and led them through the emptied, foggy streets of Melchiah's city.
My love will have no end
I carry on without you
My Lord, my Lord, my friend
Melchiah saw them out the gate, which closed, creaking loudly, behind them. Adoile climbed the watch-tower to see them go. The road was empty, and dry as dust now that the rain had dried. A fitful wind ruffled their hair and pulled on their black cloaks, mocking, calling to them to abandon this mad ambition.
My hunger at an end
And carry on without me
My brothers and my friends
Adoile stood on top of the city walls, cold, dead hands gripping the rough stone crenellation, her curls swaying around her tear-stained face. She looked out over the wasteland of the west until her kinsmen were no more than a hint of darkness in the distance. She waited, the howling wind her only companion, to see if anyone would return.
I will fight, even without you at my side.
Author's notes:
Well, there you go. Chapter 6. It's a bit short, I know. At first I wanted to combine it with the scene that follows, but they are very different in mood so I decided not to. Hope you like the little song, I adapted it from a sad love-song, which I think shows, but I still think it fits.
Questions:
Am I overstepping the line into melodrama yet? :/
Did the blatant sexism surprise you, or does it seem a natural part of the setting and characters?
Review Responses:
Thank you! I love you all, you're so enthusiastic! Whee! It really does help to have you guys cheering me on, this story has been tricky at times. So, yeah, thanks. Do tell me if you find faults though, even if they're tiny, even if they're huge. I can take it.
About the 'Kainsken vs. Kain' thing, let me just illustrate that for a second...
Ladies and gentlemen, the moment we've all been waiting for, please welcome, in the left corner: it's Kainsken! He's a fledge, he's the worst swordsman to ever call himself a Razelim, and he's got a pointy stick! Give him a hand!
And in the right corner, the one, the only, Kain! The conqueror of Nosgoth, the scourge of the Circle, slayer of the unspoken AND the Hylden lord. He's armed with the Soul Reaver and harder than ever. Give it up!
Ding!