Martyr
Waiting in tiny a shack they all breathe in anticipation of anyone that would breach the premise of their secret meeting. Darkness drinks in the room as shadowed people whispered to a close around the small fire. Listening one stands closest to the door as it creeks in a gentle wind. The cloak is heavy around her body as a wisp of air reveals an elegant woman with sharp green eyes. A slight glistening slide of a sword travels to her ears to where sounds echo a warning. Her eyes jerk open, alert, as she turns and harshly whispered, "Run! They're here; those damn church subordinates!"
The door spun in a blizzard of shattered wood and dangling hinges, knocking the cloaked woman down to the ground. Charging through the room like ravaging boars, men clad in heavy metal strike down anyone in their way. Curling up as these monsters kick and step on her she rolls by the hearth letting the flames catch fire against her clothing. Fire glides across her disheveled clothing as she winces from the pain slightly.
Focusing her icy eyes across the room to see the slaughter of her honorable comrades against the guard's blades, she prays for the dead gods to accept the slain souls. Slowly she arises like a phoenix, angered as the smell of gutted blood reaches her senses. Her skin itches at the licking blaze as she stares down a godlike warrior. Frozen for a moment the iron man upholds his weapon for a powerful attack. Lifting her head up, while the flames danced on her body like starlight, she screams into the broken wood as her attacker approaches.
As an answer to her call strong winds push down on her extinguishing the fire as the shack collapsed to the dim moonlit ground. Dust covered the area in a fog so that no human could see through the wreckage. Suddenly, a loud yell echoed though the thinning trees, under the shallow crescent moon, a man flies through the air, landing in another whirl of pine needles and dirt. Some other hardened warriors prodded the dust cloud with their swords as, what seemed like an invisible force, took in another warrior as cracks and agonizing screams clear the air. Without warning, an alien tail lashes out to strike another close opponent. He leaps back clumsily and slashes aimlessly. A loud roar resounds from the fluttering dust pile, which reveals a dead blood mass of metal and flesh under giant claws.
This creature of the deep stares at them above one of their wasted companion's body, as it bares it's teeth in agitation at the remaining three. Spreading out in a triangle in an attempt to trap the monster, it's throat rumbles and the glowing eyes blast through them. None of them falters under the hazardous gaze, as the creature's tail whips back and forth, the talons crunch the earth into hard mounds as another appendage shutters just above it's torso. Within a flicker, a man lunges onto the monster's back.
At the same moment, the other two aim for the unknown animal's side and head. Seconds passed as wings flare at the man from behind, sending him back into a rugged tree. Clangs shatter against each other as the beast spins around to slam another warrior with it's thick tail. The other suddenly faces a set of teeth of yellowing complexion. Spit and bile cover his helmet as he grabs his sword in an attempt to spear the creature's leg. Success smiles across his face as his sword screeches into the bones and blood.
A faint voice speaks above the battle at hand, "Kyrissian!" Annoyed, the creature looks directly at it's enemy and shoves a giant leg upon the warrior's side. Flinging the last man, deeper into the woods, another scream resounds and slowly fades into the distance, as the beast pulls at the sword in it's leg.
Shaking it's massive head it starts to saunter away from the past battleground, unable to remove the imbedded metallic spine. "Kyrissian! Where are you?" A shouting armored buffoon trips before the path of the murderous beast. Shocked, the creature rears to it's full height and spreads leathery membrane wings in an attempt to scare away the trespasser. Surprised also, the man rolls away swiftly and clangs to his feet in a makeshift defensive stance. "A dragon?" He cries as the beast lands back down on all fours.
It shutters a squeak as the impact on it's injured leg. Growling at another irritating complication the dragon stopped and stared as if to think. Suddenly, the eyes flash in a panic and the scaly beast starts to back away from the man. Smiling the warrior added, "Afraid?" Glancing back at the creature, he could see the sword deep within the dragon's leg. "You cower at a small wound like that?" The man starts to chuckle and slightly relaxes.
Sulking away even further, the dragon sends makes squeaks and ruffs as if trying to tell him something. It looks about and seems to be satisfied with the distance it has gained away from the man. Another strong breeze swung through the clearing attacking the dragon. The warrior interrupts his own laughter and shoots a glance. Without another moment wasted, he charges the seemingly defenseless creature as the wind blows.
Ignoring the growls of the man, the dragon let the magic work itself. The wind sheds away her scales, whirred around, as the monster starts to shrink. The pain breaks the body down as claws retract to nails and wings develop into ribs and shoulder blades. Hoping that the man will stop in awe at the sight of a dragon's change, the dragon's roar shortening down to a woman's scream, as Kyrissian now held her punctured arm naked in the night.
Breathing heavily Kyrissian looks at her fiancé and grimaces against the pain as she reaches over with her uninjured hand and pulls out the bloodied sword. Her mouth, agape from the pain, moans as the removed weapon dangles from her hand as blood scares the ground profusely, and she sighs at the man who now stands shaking before her. Collapsing to his knees, he looks at her and then turns away. "I'm….sorry..." he stammers, "I shouldn't be looking at…."
"I'm bleeding uncontrollably and you are worried about my modesty? This…" shivering with pain she jabs her bloody arm before him and yells a grunt, "this hurts!" She stands up to scout the body-laid sight to find her tattered pack. Spying it near some boards of the non-existent shack, she staggers over to it. Opening it rapidly, she sees there are some clean linens inside. Shoving one of the bandages in her mouth, as she dumps the rest of the contents onto the ground, she warps the linens vigorously around her arm. As the blood seeps through layer after layer of the bandages, she looks, unsatisfied with the job. Knowing she would heal with time, she kicks some of her bags expulsed items aside and she grabs some cheap clothing from the pile. Jumping clumsily as she puts the clothing, she heads toward the still sitting, and embarrassed man.
Kyrissian looks at her devoted love as he sits waiting for her to give word of her decency. Collapsing to her knees to join him she brings her lips close and kisses him on the cheek. Barley seeing his eyes glance her way, he sighs, relieved to see her clothed body. "I know you have questions Feing." He looks at her, still in shock, but listening attentively. "But, I rather be moving away from here at least." Feing nodded slightly and pressed upwards. A giant of a man he towered over Kyrissian in his heavy armor. Kyrissian, however, is no sprite herself. Most men shied away from her dark hair, womanly tall and slender body, because of her height, but not Feing.
Brave, courageous, and chivalrous beyond a normal man, Kyrissian, at first, despised his lighthearted affection for her. Perhaps this was because he felt more like a brother than a future husband, which she later found to be her father's plan. In all political gain, her father wanted a strong heir. Elric, Kyrissian's brother, accepted into the Chremaous clergy, could not be trusted. The King decided to unite a warrior and a fiery woman to be the future of Casia.
For over one hundred years, the Chremaous clergy has been performing a genocide of magic. This proclamation of death did not exclude the royal family so her father had gone through precautions to keep his dragon-shape children safe. Her brother, Elric, was sent away to become an honorable Chremaous clergy member, while she remained within the restrictions of the palace walls.
Now Feing had finally found out her secret half that explained her absent night, the bruises and strange visitors. "I…did not want you to find out about my, ummm, gift this way." Ending in an unsure squeaky voice, she flashes a twitchy smile.
Feing just sits, scratching his unshaven face, for a moment. Strangely, he starts to laugh, almost bustlingly. Rolling onto his back, he lies on his arms and looks at Kyrissian. "Now I know what your father meant about your split personalities." Laughing harder, Kyrissian stares at Feing in astonishment and falls to her back.
"My father…said that?
"Yep." Busting up together, they can see that the night sky now looks down on them. Then it became broken with another's voice on the wind.
"Sorry to break up this rather romantic moment, but I have to arrest you two traitors of the Church." A young man dressed formally in extravagant robes, lined with gold, silver, and precious rubies, grunts at the effort of stepping thought the trees. Royal Elite Guards stand behind him as they circle Feing and Kyrissian. Feing looks at Kyrissian and whispers, "Can't you change?"
"No," Kyrissian hissed, "I'm still injured. I could die from the effort."
"Don't worry, she is hurt and cannot change." Elric tells the apprehensive guards. Still wary, they slowly encase the two. "Take Feing to the prison on Feoras Mountain to await his punishment." Turning slowly to Kyrissian he gleamed, giddy at the thought, "For your, dear sister, I have special plans."
"How did you find us?" Kyrissian grunts.
"You think those four were the only ones watching? And Feing," Elric turns to the furious man, "I expected more from you. A man who claims to be so loyal to my family now would sleep with a traitor."
"How dare you!" Feing screams at Elric, with a thirst in his voice for blood, but it cut short as a guard knocks him out. A smile then suddenly, as Elric takes Kyrissian in and icy grip. Shocked at the sudden grasp, she barley notices the dagger stabbing into her flesh. "You are mine!" Eleric sneers. By the hair, he flings her down. Rocks and dirt jab at her face as she struggles to breathe in anything other than pine needles. "Chremaous has shown me the way, dear sister. And if you cannot see the truth, I will snap your sanity like kinder." Something sharp penetrates her neck suddenly as she falls into an empty sleep breathing in the sliver of moonlight as her brother smiles.
Water drowns Kyrissian's face so that she awakes choking uncontrollably. Her eyes jet through the stinging water and all she can see is a squatty man who jumps at the realization of her gaze. She lunges toward him, but the iron chains grip her skin, molten hot. The shackles seem to sear into her form and burn and twist it like a deadly fever. Screaming at the wretched pain, the trollish man laughed. "Silly little girl, goblin magic that is!" His voice rasps as he bounds out of the tiny dank cell and slams the heavy door into empty silence.
Shaking her head, she examines her dark surroundings. A dungeon, with no windows, traps a urine smell in the ironstone. Sniffing the air more, she could find nothing of interest. Pure emptiness consumes the darkness and she waits for, what seems an enumerable amount of time. The chains constantly tempt her to fall into death quietly, as the walls echo with her nightmares. As she desperately waits for any noise, beyond the chattering rats and dripping water, she shutters at the derangement of her mind. She lays deep in her thoughts, as unforgiving time passes. She forgets the principled leader, that used to be herself within, and fights the imaginary demons that patrol the stinking straw and stone.
A voice calls to her ears, beckoning her to trust and listen. "Oh how I do love taking credit! Essence Ritual, Essence Ritual, Essence Ritual, I can do the Essence Ritual! Precious elder sister, one, two, three, now you will become a part of me! First comes death, then comes pain, and your soul is mine to gain!" Kyrissian barley hears the words; she does not care anymore, truthfully. Darkness has eaten at her for a time untold, and now she would escape with anyone that would open up the door to sunlight.
Nevertheless, the light that enters is not sunlight; torches blind her eyes to where she hisses. Elric stands in the doorway and waves his finger in a naughty fashion, "Tsk, tsk, use your words or I will shut the door."
"Door no shut!" Kyrissian attempts to leap out of the cell, but the molten iron bonds wrench her backwards as she screeches in horrid pain. The brief glimpse reveals that she does not look like the talented and bold leader imprisoned an age ago. She is caked in black and grey, while smelling of something like dead fish heads swimming in a bog. Elric covers his face with his dark cloak from the clinging stench on her body, which burns his nostrils, and mumbles through the fine garment, "Guards! Take her to the Silver Room!" Clumping feet boom on the stone flooring as torches simmer and spit clouds of smoke. The guards enter the room, expecting to see a monster; instead, they only eye a stringy woman with a repugnant stench. Noticing their hesitance, Elric glares at them and they obey the silent order to take Kyrissian away to the Silver Room.
The Silver Room is a place of thoughtless steel and empty stone. The hallways, filled with blood, curtailing screams and dark spells, choke hope from the very air. However, Kyrissian does not feel any dread. With dulled senses and an empty mind, she can no longer see the wrong in Elric. He turns to smile at her, not a gentle smile, more of a smirk of dark accomplishment. "Better now?" He asks her as they walk down the torch lit path. Kyrissian can only smile naively.
"You will be. After this, you won't have to worry about anything." Kyrissian giggles and claps her hands, like a small child expecting to go to a fair. Even as she enters the Silver Room, she does not see the horrible instruments that lay on a table or the long slab with goblin inscribed chains. Eleric leads her to the larger of the two tables and whispers "Wait here." Turning, he nods to one of the guards "Bring him in."
Doors slam against the walls as the struggling Feing stumbles in. Swollen in face, bloodied in garb, he had suffered as much as Kyrissian has. Eleric turns on his heels and props up Feing's head to an absurd pose of smugness; nose up, neck crookedly straight, and eyes centered on Elric. "Today Feing, I will show you my power. At this moment your beloved is oblivious to the danger that befalls her." Feing screams at Elric, desperate to release himself. "Now, don't interrupt. Where was I … Kyrissian's soul shall be mine to take, and you are going to watch."
"Kyrissian! Run now!" Feing shouts to her through tears of rage.
"Hi!" Kyrissian squeals. "He's going to make me better!" A grimy finger points at Elric as Feing attempts to subdue the guards.
Turning slowly, Eleric laughs, "Do you not understand simpleton, and she has no idea who you are?" With that, he begins to speak the Essence Ritual. Holding a silver dagger, it glows slightly as words of ancient power travel through it. Feing has now almost successfully knocked out bother guards while screaming obscenities. Elric approaches Kyrissian, who now seems alert and focused as her eyes dilate on the dagger.
A mist now flows from Kyrissian's body and to Elric. Feing take a sword, from one of the guards, in his hand and screams as he lunges into Elric who, distracted by the complexity of the ritual, lets the sword slide easily into his body. At this moment, the shock pushes Elric forward and he accidentally stabs the silver dagger violently into Kyrissian's chest before the ritual is complete. Screams connect into one residing force as a black aura coincides with a blinding light that reflects against the stone and silvery metal.
Silence empties into a void where something stands ominously, as if it were a god. Created from three souls, two unwilling and one binding, it has fulfilled an ancient prophecy.
Three souls shall bind beyond space and time. Two disheartened and one consumed with hate, they will open the gate to free Casia once again.
A new god now looks down on Casia and contemplates on the pain and suffering screaming to it's mind. With a glare of diamond eyes, scales of rainbows with jewels, gold, silver clinging onto it's breast. Wings of velvet blood touch, as mountains that reach for the sky as a crown of thorns, look peacefully down upon Casia as if to question its own existence.
Three voices speak as if possessed by another foreign body, "Now is the choice, shall I become a maiden of destruction or a healer of the earth? Am I a god?" Looking at the land once again, it sighs heavily as millions of words swirled around the void and vanished aimlessly to the stars.
"We are not a god." One voice says. "I believe we are a key."
"Where is the door?" Speak all three, "Where is the gate, where is the portal, where is the way?"
"Awaken the dead gods, asleep within Gaia's heart. Awake, awake, awake them to save Casia." All three conclude as the beast hangs its head, overcome by the sheer power of it's own voice. Looking down, it takes flight into the arid darkness in hopes of rebirthing a dying hope.