Interlude: The Child of Dark
Such a small little thing.
A tiny soul.
One so frail and palid.
A speck of ash caught in the winds of a storm the little soul was.
A little spark.
Almost nothing really.
But oh such a… resilience.
Like a flame sputtering in the dark.
Refusing to go out.
Refusing to allow the Dark to win.
Mortals could be so fascinating.
Most were weak… but for every million that stumbled within the dark places and into the path of the great beings of the world and perished there, there was at times ones that could surprise.
She'd seen one already.
The Sovereign.
But his Soul was magnificent. Strong and proud. With a glow that could have illuminated her entire tower for a thousand years made powerful by fate, fed by adversity, and driven by destiny. The next link in the endless chain.
Nothing like her frail but resilient little host.
Nothing like solemn, lonely Taylor.
She'd escaped the Sovereign. Escaped his world. Found this new place.
This one that stood beyond the scope of Light and beyond the reach of Dark. Free of the endless chain. Her soul was now whole and hidden within this mortal shell alongside her protector.
Where they could see, hear, learn, explore, and feel.
She came here because of the call. The siren's call. The cry of a lonely soul. She'd come to her little owl, her little curiosity when she was at her lowest. Her little owl had called to her like she'd called poor Raime to her side.
Called him to rest his weary bones.
Called him to sleep in the dark.
Called him to the place where they'd be most protected. Safest. Alone.
But quickly after she came here, to this place, that cry had vanished.
That beautiful song diminished with each passing day.
And in those days it had only been her curiosity as to this thing-This… other that had arrived here with her had served as a minstrel's fancy to sooth her desire for the song again.
This tiny sliver. The smallest little piece. So much more and yet so much less than her and her sisters.
The other shards, fragments, pieces. The aspects of Father.
She toyed with it, pulled and tugged like a child inspecting a toy. She suspected it didn't much appreciate that. She could hear its confused whimpers in the dark.
Sometimes she caused pain. She knew it didn't like those times.
But she just had to know. Had to peer into its soul. The smallest sliver. The smallest piece. It was strong. Strong enough to rival the power of her soul. To devour little Taylor's entirely if unrestrained. But it was oh so… limited.
So… fixed… immutable. A sliver of power. Not of Want. Not of Wrath. Not of Sorrow or Solace or Fear or Joy or Madness. Mere… power.
Power with no purpose.
Power for Power's sake.
It did not act. Barely even defended itself. Like an infant. The tiny sliver fumbled in the dark in its first steps.
This other had held her curiosity. Sated it. Who knows for how long it would have done so. Time was meaningless to a being that cared not for time.
But then she'd heard the song once again. Heard it. And its symphony was even more beautiful than before. Wrenched with pain. With anguish and heartache.
With betrayal.
It was a familiar song. And oh did she recall the steps to its dance.
The call had been strong. Strong enough, powerful enough, to rouse her beloved knight. To draw Raime forth from his slumber. His wrath had burned ever so fiercely. The powerful emotions, the call their little mortal had cried out to them had been so delectably sweet. Who were they to not answer such a pitiful plea for help?
Her Knight had strode forth, and once again proven himself the strongest. Bested their champions and allowed them to retreat in shame.
She called him back then. The battle was over.
Called him back so they too could retreat. Hide. To seek solitude. They hid deep.
Hid in the Dark, a place where no mortal scents lingered or where mortal eyes could find easily. This place where she now held sway. This place she held in her grasp like she'd once held her tower. Held it as close to the Dark as she could with her power here. Not quite between the veil of worlds. But close enough she could almost feel the cold hand of the Lurker at her back once again.
It was here that they hid.
Remained.
Waited.
Soon enough the heroes would return.
They would return as they always did.
With blade and bow and axe and spear.
Cries of vengeance on their lips and anger in their hearts even though they were the betrayers and they were the guilty.
Like a moth hovering before a flame, their wings will burn in anguish. Time. After Time.
Who would best Raime if not the Sovereign?
A Sovereign that did not exist in this world.
And perhaps, through that, adversity, through that misery, Taylor's soul and this tiny sliver of power here, would grow greater.
For Misery always led to greater, stronger souls.
And she would like to see just how far a Mortal could grow. How much greater the little thing could hope to become. If this frail little thing could ever grow to be worthy of even the lowliest of the servants a Sovereign might hold in his court.
She wanted to see her little curiosity grow strong. Just like how she'd seen Raime grow strong.
Raime came to her lost, wanting, fleeting, betrayed.
She offered him what he asked most of. Gave him what his lonely little Soul wished for.
He wished to save his dear kingdom, only to be repaid in being cast out like the Rebel he was. She offered her understanding.
He wanted strength to save his land. And she gave it to him, and in that power he was bound to her.
She held him close during his sorrow, until all he could see was her, spoke to him of all the fond memories of his time in Drangleic and the reason for his leaving.
Of his attempts to combat the rot in the King's court.
Of his fight with his once friend, the Royal Aegis, Velstadt.
Of his banishment from Drangleic.
Of his search for power in order to free the Kingdom from the Queen's hold over it. Her hold over the King.
Of his fears. His sorrows. His secrets and shames.
She spoke to him of all these.
But especially about how he was betrayed by his King and his friend.
Again, and again and again.
Until the fondness eroded. Until the warmth grew cold and mirth twisted to something grotesque.
Until only bitterness remained.
Until only she remained.
As it should be.
And soon he no longer cared for his goal. No longer cared for Drangleic. He only wanted to be by her side. She who had offered him power. She who had offered him understanding. A place beside her. She who had been alone for so very long.
She was grateful for his servitude.
And now, here was Taylor.
Lost. Wanting. Frightened. Betrayed.
They came to this little tiny vessel, and with her outcry of sorrow, unleashed their fragment of the Dark's power. A fragment of her power.
And yet… she has fallen… but she has not embraced the Dark… not yet. Not like Raime who had given in completely.
She stood on the precipice. On the very edge. Looking down, to the maw of the abyss… But she did not leap yet.
Cowardice or resilience? Which one, little curiosity?
Which one…
Which one.
No matter.
For now rest. Rest in the peaceful dark.
(X)
…
…
...
The Dark Stirs.
A presence. Life. A soul so weak it is barely there. Weaker than even her little mortals'.
Weak. And the sliver of a greater soul hiding within it is not as powerful as this one hiding within Taylor.
Intruder. Trespasser. Defiler. Invader.
It does not belong.
Who would enter this place?
How did they enter? How did they discover this place?
Is it a warrior? A fool who wishes to challenge her Raime?
The doorway, of iron and steel, heavy. The invader pushes at it, opens it.
A voice. It speaks out.
It calls to her little Taylor.
She does not recognize this one. Does not recall ever seeing this one through Taylor's eyes. Another traitor? Another enemy?
The Ash moves… The Dark stirs.
"Leeeeeeeeave… uuuusss…"
The hiss is a whisper, carried to the intruders mind. She feels their fear. Feels the shudder and apprehension. Can see it, taste it.
It leaves.
(X)
…
...
…
The Dark… Stirs.
The intruder. The invader.
It has returned. Again.
Time after time. It returns.
Days pass between its arrivals. Neither moon nor sun reach them here but she knows. She has felt the sun's passage as surely as if she'd seen it through her little owl's eyes if she chose.
It does not speak sometimes. Other times it does.
This time, it chooses to speak.
It calls out Taylor's name. Calling in the Dark.
This time, Taylor stirs quietly.
"Leeeaave… uusss."
It does not obey this time.
It stays at the doorway. Feet not touching the ash that shifts and moves before it. It speaks again. To Taylor.
Her mortal wakes, still in her arms.
She wants to hear. To listen.
Without really knowing why.
The figure walks through the dark and ash, she can feel its steps. Its head moves to and fro, searching. Trying to find her little mortal.
The invader speaks again.
And the Dark… stirs.
Taylor wakes. In her arms, Taylor wakes, and Nadalia smiles down at her.
"Go back to sleep, little owl."
For a moment her little owl looks like she will. Like she will obey. Then the figure speaks again.
"Taylor. I want to help you."
Little Taylor's eyes open and Nadalia can feel, to her bemusement, the little spark of her soul pull away from the dark ever so slightly. Called back from the edge of the precipice.
She could pull her back, release her power to swallow her completely, drag her over the edge and into the peaceful dark.
It was not love or fear or concern that held her hand.
It was fascination.
Like a firefly in the night, her eyes were drawn to the hypnotic glow.
Oh where will the little firefly go next?
Where will her wings burn?
She smiled.
Oh. So interesting. Amusing. Exciting. To see her pull away once more into the cruelties of the world.
So unlike Raime.
He'd learned quickly.
Mortals needed greater pain to learn it seems.
But she would learn. In that regard she was not concerned for her little curiosity.
Pain was the greatest certainty this, or any world, had to offer.
Her pain would come. And then she would return.
As long as those heroes exist. As long as those friends who betray, people who fight and drive away others into the Dark, her little curiosity will always be back to the edge of the Abyss, always be back in her welcome embrace.
This time she pulled away.
But when her mortal mind finally grasped that she could not prevail against the cruelties of the world she would return.
And one day she will not pull away.
When that day came she'll be right here, waiting to catch her little owl when she falls.
Just like she caught Raime.
Taylor pulled away. Her eyes lingering on her face. Gaze sightless and glassy.
Hollow.
"I'll be back mother…"
She smiled gently, caressing her head and kissing her on the forehead.
"Of course you will my little owl… Of course you will…"