New, highly depressing chapter! Just a warning, this chapter would be why I
rated this fic PG-13. Torture, violence, rape, and suicide ensue. Poor Raz.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not even my own soul. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Liaedra stared at the figures that surrounded her with fear-filled eyes. "What do you want?" she whispered.
One figure stepped forward. "You were the lover of Sarquinn, child of Bhaal, who has recently been deified, yes?"
"N...no. He left me. We aren't lovers anymore," she said, tears forming in her eyes."
"But you were lovers, correct?"
"Why do you care?" she growled, very angered. Whoever these people were, they had no business asking about her love life.
The cowled figure laughed softly. "I'll take that as a yes."
The other figures jumped at her, t5rying to hold her down. Liaedra's instincts kicked in and she knocked two of them down. Tow others moved to engage her, and she fought them bare-handed, having left her weapons at camp.
Then she noticed the other figures at the edges of her sight, moving their hands in various patterns. They were casting some sort of spell, but Liae could not tell which one, as she could not hear their voices. Her momentary hesitation was enough to allow two of her attackers to grab hold of her arms, holding her still as three orbs of darkness flew at her from the other cowled figures' hands.
Then there was nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Liaedra awoke slowly with a pounding headache. She found she was leaning against cold stone. She tried to move her hands to rub at her face, but found them bound to the wall.
Her eyes shot open. She was in a dark room. Candles lit various spots of the wall, but the shadowy atmosphere still prevailed. She found she was bound in a sitting position against the wall, her arms locked against the wall at her wrists. Her legs were tied together as well, not allowing any movement. The room was incredibly cold, causing goosebumps to rise up and down her arms.
"So you are awake."
A black cowled figure was in front of her, his arms folded in front of him. Liae tried to raise her head higher to see him, but the pounding in her head prevented her from it. Her vision blurred for a moment, and when it cleared, she saw he had moved closer to her.
"What do you want?" she said, her voice rough.
"Hmmmm...... Where to begin?" he said, amused.
"How about with who the hell you are?" she asked. Her head was clearing and, as a result, her temper was rising.
"Perhaps this will jog your memory," he said. He lifted a medallion from beneath his robes and brought it forth to show her. The flickering candlelight hit it and she gasped as she recognized the symbol.
"You are a cleric of Cyric!" she said. "But... what do you want from me?"
He sighed. "Isn't it obvious? You are important to the one called Quinn, who has recently ascended to godhood. Quinn has taken the power of his sire, whom Cyric eliminated. My lord Cyric believes that Quinn could be a..... problem."
"What does that have to do with me?" she asked, fearful of the direction the conversation was taking.
"You are his lover. He cares for you. And perhaps if the proper.... persuasion is applied to you, in might persuade him to listen to my lord Cyric's demands."
Her eyes widened. She began to struggle against her bonds, frantic to escape from the inevitable. She looked up at the shadowy figure in disbelief.
"No!" she shouted. "You.... you can't! He doesn't care anymore. It will never work. Let me go!"
The figure laughed, a laugh that was so cold and heartless that it sent a shiver up her spine. "I'm afraid not, my dear. That would ruin Cyric's plans, and my own enjoyment."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She screamed.
Again and again she screamed, her nerves raw with pain.
As he singed and tore off her very flesh, she screamed.
When he slowly made shallow, painful cuts along her abdomen, she screamed.
When he tore out her nails, she screamed.
When he began to shatter her bones one by one, she could no longer scream, her throat was so raw.
When he tore off her clothes and raped her, his body thoroughly aroused by her pain and the fact that he was causing it, all she could do was cry, tears streaming down her face as she felt only pain and shame.
And when he left her alone, bleeding and naked, in the darkness of her cell, she merely lay there, sobbing, but making no sound. Never had she felt so pained, so foul, so helpless, and so sickeningly alone. No one knew where she was. She had left her company without telling them where she was going. And though they would look, Liaedra had the disturbing feeling that they would never find her.
So she did the only thing she could. She prayed. She prayed to Miellke, the god she had pledged her allegiance to, and she prayed to all other gods she knew and honored.
Then she prayed to the one god she was sure would listen. He may have left her, but Quinn would never forget how much they had felt for each other, could he? At the very least, he had to remember how much she had done to get him to his chance for godhood.
"Quinn," she murmured, her voce so raw from screaming that it was hard to even whisper, "if you ever cared for me, if you ever felt anything for me, please..... save me from this. Please!"
Then she faded from consciousness into blissful darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He tossed her towards the back of her cell after another round of torture and raped. This had been going on for several months, and yet the High Cleric reported that Quinn had still not yet caved in to Cyric's demands.
"Useless," he growled, giving the motionless elf one last kick in the stomach. Liaedra cringed slightly, lying in a fetal position as her captor turned and left, slamming the door angrily.
Liaedra didn't move. There was no point. There was no point to anything anymore. Each day would only bring more pain and destruction, and the knowledge that no on could save her. There was no divine intervention, no friends to come to her rescue. No knight in shining armor to save her, kill her captors, and save her from this hell. She was completely alone.
The candlelight flickered off of something metallic. Liaedra moved her head slightly, ignoring the resulting rush of pain, in order to see the object t better. A small smile graced her face as she realized that it was a small knife. Her captors had slipped up and had left her a weapon.
Her mind may have been pained, but she knew she could not escape from here. Even with a weapon, she would not make it far before she was re-captured.
There was only one option.
She sat up, letting a nearby cold stone wall support her broken body as she picked up the thin knife. Her own blood still covered it in a thin crimson layer. Not wanting to guess which of her various wounds this knife had inflicted, she lifted in up.
She clenched the hilt of it between her thighs, using the last of her strength to support it. Then, she placed her pale wrists against it's blade, the cold metal pressing against her veins.
With one quick jerk of her wrists, the task was done. The blade cut her wrists almost to the bone. The shock of pain was like a rush of cold water, cold and sudden. She looked down at her wrists as the red life flowed out of them.
She laughed. There was something sickly amusing about her own death. She smiled fully for the first time in what seemed like decades.
"I hope you are watching, Quinn. You brought me to this. This is your fault. And as I die, I hope you realize how much I hate you."
Liaedra lay down as her life faded from her. "You killed me," she whispered.
Then there was nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As I sit here in the darkness, I muse upon my past
Mistakes that robbed me of the revelry that I had wished to last
Cold concise fear! When it grips your heart, you know you can't escape
As your darkest fears come to life, twisting, taking shape
Who are you to try and claim that you are immune to all fear?
Fear you not the hell of demons where the dark flames burn and sear?
Leave behind your misconceptions as you wander through the dark
Walking past the rotting bones and flesh that leave a stinking mark
Tell me why the angels fly away and leave me to this hell
To the flames and death and darkness, to the demons foul and fell
The angels in their paradise that reaches far above
Who preach always of caring and yet show not a sign of love
Let me lay her for a while just to bleed and burn and cry
Let me languish in this rotten hell; just leave me here to die!
There is nothing left but madness in this bruised and beaten soul
And there is no point in living if you can never become whole
So as I die, I brood upon the past, the joy and shining light
But even memories fade as I lie alone, dying in the night
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Enough!"
Abruptly the visions of pain and torture faded from around them. Jaheira, Kelsey, Imoen, and Sarevok all turned around. Raziel stood stock still, her fists clenched, her face covered with tears. It was a pitiful sight.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Raziel shouted, glaring at Amauna. "The last thing I need is to relive this!"
"This is not just for you, Raziel," said Amauna. "This is for your friends as well. They must understand....."
"What?" Raziel screamed. "That I was tortured for months with no hope of ever escaping? That I had my bones broken, only to be healed and broken again? That my skin was torn from my very body? That I was so bruised and cut that I didn't even look like a human being sometimes? That the priests raped me at least daily, taking more pleasure from my screams than from my body? Is that what they need to know?"
Raziel looked her friends over. Kelsey looked extremely pained while Imoen was crying, her face hidden in her lover's robes. Even Jaheira was crying, showing more emotion on her face than Liaedra had seen there in years. Sarevok was looking at her, a curios expression on his face, one that Raziel had never sent there before, and one that confused her.
And one emotion was on all their faces. Pity. The one emotion she hated more than anything.
"I don't need your pity," she growled. Her voice was dangerous and anger ruled her face. Then she turned and ran, seeming to disappear into the darkness that surrounded them.
"So much pain," whispered Jaheira. "I never knew.... the poor child. No wonder she is so unbalanced."
"We have to help her!" cried Imoen, her voice shaken by sobs.
Sarevok clenched his fists. Anger filled his whole being, anger at those who had tormented Raziel, anger at Quinn for not helping her, anger at himself for having never found her, and anger at those around him for just standing there.
"Well you certainly aren't helping her now!" he shouted, and stormed off in the direction the elf had run off in.
The darkness seemed endless but eventually Sarevok saw the hunched figure of Raziel in front of him. She was crouched on the ground, head in her hands. At the sound of his approach she stood up and turned. Her face was covered in tears, and her shoulders were shaking with repressed sobs.
Raziel turned to find Sarevok standing in front of her. She was sure biting, sarcastic words were soon to come, so she turned her face away, trying to not go burst out crying in front of him. Her eyes closed in shame and pain, and most of all, regret.
She was shocked as she felt strong arms wrap around her waist. Opening her eyes and looking up, she saw Sarevok's face above her. His eyes were filled with pain, and...... love?
Sarevok had taken one look at her face and had felt a rush of emotions. Anger towards those that had harmed her returned, mixed with pain at the look on her face and the way she turned away from him. And finally, caring, and a wish to take the pain away from her. Sarevok was thoroughly confused by the last emotion, so he did the only thing her could. She moved towards her and hugged her to him, hoping to offer the comfort that he could not speak in a different way.
Raziel was shocked. Why was he doing this? But the look in his eyes wiped away all her thoughts.
She simply pressed her face against his shoulder, wrapping her own arms around his chest. Then she cried, letting all the pain and anguish she felt out in her sobs.
Sarevok tightened his arms around her as she began to cry into his chest. Then he pressed her against him and let her let out her pain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Say it with me! AWWWWWWWWWW!!! Well, not to the torture and rape part, but to Sarevok comforting Raz. How cute!
Next chapter: We find out how Liaedra escaped and began to become Raziel, and why she is so important. Plus: A little bit more of Raz and Sarevok's blooming romance! You know you want it!
BTW That was another of my poems. Damn, I need therapy.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Not even my own soul. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Liaedra stared at the figures that surrounded her with fear-filled eyes. "What do you want?" she whispered.
One figure stepped forward. "You were the lover of Sarquinn, child of Bhaal, who has recently been deified, yes?"
"N...no. He left me. We aren't lovers anymore," she said, tears forming in her eyes."
"But you were lovers, correct?"
"Why do you care?" she growled, very angered. Whoever these people were, they had no business asking about her love life.
The cowled figure laughed softly. "I'll take that as a yes."
The other figures jumped at her, t5rying to hold her down. Liaedra's instincts kicked in and she knocked two of them down. Tow others moved to engage her, and she fought them bare-handed, having left her weapons at camp.
Then she noticed the other figures at the edges of her sight, moving their hands in various patterns. They were casting some sort of spell, but Liae could not tell which one, as she could not hear their voices. Her momentary hesitation was enough to allow two of her attackers to grab hold of her arms, holding her still as three orbs of darkness flew at her from the other cowled figures' hands.
Then there was nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Liaedra awoke slowly with a pounding headache. She found she was leaning against cold stone. She tried to move her hands to rub at her face, but found them bound to the wall.
Her eyes shot open. She was in a dark room. Candles lit various spots of the wall, but the shadowy atmosphere still prevailed. She found she was bound in a sitting position against the wall, her arms locked against the wall at her wrists. Her legs were tied together as well, not allowing any movement. The room was incredibly cold, causing goosebumps to rise up and down her arms.
"So you are awake."
A black cowled figure was in front of her, his arms folded in front of him. Liae tried to raise her head higher to see him, but the pounding in her head prevented her from it. Her vision blurred for a moment, and when it cleared, she saw he had moved closer to her.
"What do you want?" she said, her voice rough.
"Hmmmm...... Where to begin?" he said, amused.
"How about with who the hell you are?" she asked. Her head was clearing and, as a result, her temper was rising.
"Perhaps this will jog your memory," he said. He lifted a medallion from beneath his robes and brought it forth to show her. The flickering candlelight hit it and she gasped as she recognized the symbol.
"You are a cleric of Cyric!" she said. "But... what do you want from me?"
He sighed. "Isn't it obvious? You are important to the one called Quinn, who has recently ascended to godhood. Quinn has taken the power of his sire, whom Cyric eliminated. My lord Cyric believes that Quinn could be a..... problem."
"What does that have to do with me?" she asked, fearful of the direction the conversation was taking.
"You are his lover. He cares for you. And perhaps if the proper.... persuasion is applied to you, in might persuade him to listen to my lord Cyric's demands."
Her eyes widened. She began to struggle against her bonds, frantic to escape from the inevitable. She looked up at the shadowy figure in disbelief.
"No!" she shouted. "You.... you can't! He doesn't care anymore. It will never work. Let me go!"
The figure laughed, a laugh that was so cold and heartless that it sent a shiver up her spine. "I'm afraid not, my dear. That would ruin Cyric's plans, and my own enjoyment."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She screamed.
Again and again she screamed, her nerves raw with pain.
As he singed and tore off her very flesh, she screamed.
When he slowly made shallow, painful cuts along her abdomen, she screamed.
When he tore out her nails, she screamed.
When he began to shatter her bones one by one, she could no longer scream, her throat was so raw.
When he tore off her clothes and raped her, his body thoroughly aroused by her pain and the fact that he was causing it, all she could do was cry, tears streaming down her face as she felt only pain and shame.
And when he left her alone, bleeding and naked, in the darkness of her cell, she merely lay there, sobbing, but making no sound. Never had she felt so pained, so foul, so helpless, and so sickeningly alone. No one knew where she was. She had left her company without telling them where she was going. And though they would look, Liaedra had the disturbing feeling that they would never find her.
So she did the only thing she could. She prayed. She prayed to Miellke, the god she had pledged her allegiance to, and she prayed to all other gods she knew and honored.
Then she prayed to the one god she was sure would listen. He may have left her, but Quinn would never forget how much they had felt for each other, could he? At the very least, he had to remember how much she had done to get him to his chance for godhood.
"Quinn," she murmured, her voce so raw from screaming that it was hard to even whisper, "if you ever cared for me, if you ever felt anything for me, please..... save me from this. Please!"
Then she faded from consciousness into blissful darkness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He tossed her towards the back of her cell after another round of torture and raped. This had been going on for several months, and yet the High Cleric reported that Quinn had still not yet caved in to Cyric's demands.
"Useless," he growled, giving the motionless elf one last kick in the stomach. Liaedra cringed slightly, lying in a fetal position as her captor turned and left, slamming the door angrily.
Liaedra didn't move. There was no point. There was no point to anything anymore. Each day would only bring more pain and destruction, and the knowledge that no on could save her. There was no divine intervention, no friends to come to her rescue. No knight in shining armor to save her, kill her captors, and save her from this hell. She was completely alone.
The candlelight flickered off of something metallic. Liaedra moved her head slightly, ignoring the resulting rush of pain, in order to see the object t better. A small smile graced her face as she realized that it was a small knife. Her captors had slipped up and had left her a weapon.
Her mind may have been pained, but she knew she could not escape from here. Even with a weapon, she would not make it far before she was re-captured.
There was only one option.
She sat up, letting a nearby cold stone wall support her broken body as she picked up the thin knife. Her own blood still covered it in a thin crimson layer. Not wanting to guess which of her various wounds this knife had inflicted, she lifted in up.
She clenched the hilt of it between her thighs, using the last of her strength to support it. Then, she placed her pale wrists against it's blade, the cold metal pressing against her veins.
With one quick jerk of her wrists, the task was done. The blade cut her wrists almost to the bone. The shock of pain was like a rush of cold water, cold and sudden. She looked down at her wrists as the red life flowed out of them.
She laughed. There was something sickly amusing about her own death. She smiled fully for the first time in what seemed like decades.
"I hope you are watching, Quinn. You brought me to this. This is your fault. And as I die, I hope you realize how much I hate you."
Liaedra lay down as her life faded from her. "You killed me," she whispered.
Then there was nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As I sit here in the darkness, I muse upon my past
Mistakes that robbed me of the revelry that I had wished to last
Cold concise fear! When it grips your heart, you know you can't escape
As your darkest fears come to life, twisting, taking shape
Who are you to try and claim that you are immune to all fear?
Fear you not the hell of demons where the dark flames burn and sear?
Leave behind your misconceptions as you wander through the dark
Walking past the rotting bones and flesh that leave a stinking mark
Tell me why the angels fly away and leave me to this hell
To the flames and death and darkness, to the demons foul and fell
The angels in their paradise that reaches far above
Who preach always of caring and yet show not a sign of love
Let me lay her for a while just to bleed and burn and cry
Let me languish in this rotten hell; just leave me here to die!
There is nothing left but madness in this bruised and beaten soul
And there is no point in living if you can never become whole
So as I die, I brood upon the past, the joy and shining light
But even memories fade as I lie alone, dying in the night
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Enough!"
Abruptly the visions of pain and torture faded from around them. Jaheira, Kelsey, Imoen, and Sarevok all turned around. Raziel stood stock still, her fists clenched, her face covered with tears. It was a pitiful sight.
"Why are you doing this to me?" Raziel shouted, glaring at Amauna. "The last thing I need is to relive this!"
"This is not just for you, Raziel," said Amauna. "This is for your friends as well. They must understand....."
"What?" Raziel screamed. "That I was tortured for months with no hope of ever escaping? That I had my bones broken, only to be healed and broken again? That my skin was torn from my very body? That I was so bruised and cut that I didn't even look like a human being sometimes? That the priests raped me at least daily, taking more pleasure from my screams than from my body? Is that what they need to know?"
Raziel looked her friends over. Kelsey looked extremely pained while Imoen was crying, her face hidden in her lover's robes. Even Jaheira was crying, showing more emotion on her face than Liaedra had seen there in years. Sarevok was looking at her, a curios expression on his face, one that Raziel had never sent there before, and one that confused her.
And one emotion was on all their faces. Pity. The one emotion she hated more than anything.
"I don't need your pity," she growled. Her voice was dangerous and anger ruled her face. Then she turned and ran, seeming to disappear into the darkness that surrounded them.
"So much pain," whispered Jaheira. "I never knew.... the poor child. No wonder she is so unbalanced."
"We have to help her!" cried Imoen, her voice shaken by sobs.
Sarevok clenched his fists. Anger filled his whole being, anger at those who had tormented Raziel, anger at Quinn for not helping her, anger at himself for having never found her, and anger at those around him for just standing there.
"Well you certainly aren't helping her now!" he shouted, and stormed off in the direction the elf had run off in.
The darkness seemed endless but eventually Sarevok saw the hunched figure of Raziel in front of him. She was crouched on the ground, head in her hands. At the sound of his approach she stood up and turned. Her face was covered in tears, and her shoulders were shaking with repressed sobs.
Raziel turned to find Sarevok standing in front of her. She was sure biting, sarcastic words were soon to come, so she turned her face away, trying to not go burst out crying in front of him. Her eyes closed in shame and pain, and most of all, regret.
She was shocked as she felt strong arms wrap around her waist. Opening her eyes and looking up, she saw Sarevok's face above her. His eyes were filled with pain, and...... love?
Sarevok had taken one look at her face and had felt a rush of emotions. Anger towards those that had harmed her returned, mixed with pain at the look on her face and the way she turned away from him. And finally, caring, and a wish to take the pain away from her. Sarevok was thoroughly confused by the last emotion, so he did the only thing her could. She moved towards her and hugged her to him, hoping to offer the comfort that he could not speak in a different way.
Raziel was shocked. Why was he doing this? But the look in his eyes wiped away all her thoughts.
She simply pressed her face against his shoulder, wrapping her own arms around his chest. Then she cried, letting all the pain and anguish she felt out in her sobs.
Sarevok tightened his arms around her as she began to cry into his chest. Then he pressed her against him and let her let out her pain.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Say it with me! AWWWWWWWWWW!!! Well, not to the torture and rape part, but to Sarevok comforting Raz. How cute!
Next chapter: We find out how Liaedra escaped and began to become Raziel, and why she is so important. Plus: A little bit more of Raz and Sarevok's blooming romance! You know you want it!
BTW That was another of my poems. Damn, I need therapy.