“My love, tell me what has happened while I was away.” Philippe asked Teleperien. The elf studied Philippe’s face. She let loose her hands and sat back with a long sigh.
“I know not where to start. So much has come about.” She replied softly. “More will come in time, but I will tell you the matters that affected all. The first winter was not one of plenty. The realm was full of cold and hunger. Many of the elderly in the village and close by were relocated within the castle so they would not starve. The rest struggled to keep their homes warm. To be certain all at least received adequate food and shelter I cut our own expenses to the very least we needed. Borin was very clever with this. Dwarves are known for their ability to handle these matters.”
Tele smiled softly. For a moment her former demeanor showed through her fair face as she remembered this, but soon flickered and was gone. She continued. “It was then I begged my forefathers for aid, and they sent the Maia Eonwë.”
Philippe looked puzzled. Tele laughed softly. “A Maia is a powerful god from the blessed realm of Valinor. He and over one hundred elves appeared in the harbor upon boats that resembled swans one late afternoon. I had never seen a Maia afore this. He was very tall, dark hair as yours and sea grey eyes.”
She paused, took a sip of her coffee and continued. “I had in my possession very valuable gems called Silmarils. When my sister Luthien left the world of RhyDin she left the gems in the care of Xenograg. He gave them to me for safe keeping. The Silmarils were made by the Feanör, one of my forebears many thousands of years ago.
“I did not tell even you I held them in my possession for to use them would have been perilous. I was asked to surrender the Silmarils to Valinor. There were those who learned I had the gems and kidnapped a few of my household and demanded them for return of the prisoners. Xenograg went alone and freed the captives but not without harm. A battle soon ensued right here in my castle. We prevailed due to the help of the Maia as well as the Istari Alatar.”
Philippe was listening politely but Tele sensed his confusion on the details. She didn’t blame him for that, she herself had a time understanding who and what. So Tele continued. “Finally the Silmarils were safely in the care of the Maia and he departed back to Valinor. As reward for the return of the gems, my realm was blessed beyond my own expectations. Even with the cold winter this season none wanted for anything.”
Tele then looked at Philippe. Leaning forward she placed her hand on his face and kissed him. Slowly her hand slipped under his dressing gown and pulled herself on his lap. She spoke softly in his ear. “Enough history for this time.”
Confession
Moderator: Xenograg
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QueenTeleperien
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Confession
Last edited by QueenTeleperien on Fri Mar 31, 2006 8:35 am, edited 1 time in total.
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QueenTeleperien
- Adventurer
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- Joined: Tue Jun 01, 2004 2:13 pm
Even as she sat on Philippe’s lap and softly kissed his neck, she sensed in him an uncertainty, unease. Of course this was totally understandable. She felt the same.
He’d been gone, living in a world without light. He had been tortured, watched his shipmates die and his officers die one by one. A miracle was gifted him.. he escaped. Now he has returned to the realm of Eldicor. He had changed.
Teleperien had changed as well. Both experienced anguish, grief and pain of the darkest kind. No one who had been touched so deeply could escape unscathed.
The challenge that lay before them, do they allow their anguish to keep them divided?
Teleperien remained silent, the only sound in the room was the hiss of the fire in the grate. The growing taint was challenged and fought to remain established, but just being in the same room with her love kept the growth in check. She closed her eyes and just leaned against him. He stroked her hair with one hand, the other around her waist.
She whispered in his ear; “I remember when we wed, how very happy I was. I have never loved one as you. I still have that love. We have much to do, but I believe in you Philippe. To survive such horrors to return to me.. speaks much louder than words.”
Sitting up she looked into those beautiful eyes, captured his mouth and kissed him deeply.
He’d been gone, living in a world without light. He had been tortured, watched his shipmates die and his officers die one by one. A miracle was gifted him.. he escaped. Now he has returned to the realm of Eldicor. He had changed.
Teleperien had changed as well. Both experienced anguish, grief and pain of the darkest kind. No one who had been touched so deeply could escape unscathed.
The challenge that lay before them, do they allow their anguish to keep them divided?
Teleperien remained silent, the only sound in the room was the hiss of the fire in the grate. The growing taint was challenged and fought to remain established, but just being in the same room with her love kept the growth in check. She closed her eyes and just leaned against him. He stroked her hair with one hand, the other around her waist.
She whispered in his ear; “I remember when we wed, how very happy I was. I have never loved one as you. I still have that love. We have much to do, but I believe in you Philippe. To survive such horrors to return to me.. speaks much louder than words.”
Sitting up she looked into those beautiful eyes, captured his mouth and kissed him deeply.
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Philippe de Bouillon
- Adventurer
- Posts: 29
- Joined: Fri Jan 06, 2006 7:13 pm
- Location: Kindgom of Eldicor, Rhydin
It was the morning of the following day, and after a morning of making love, Philippe was now washed and was tucking his shirt into his pants. He looked at Tele and in spite of times of intimacy, he could sense that she was not the wife he had left here three years ago. It troubled him. How could someone change so much in their basic character in three years? He had been imprisoned and yet his nature hadn't changed to such a degree. What had happened to her?
The conflict in her heart lay heavily between them. She loved him and the cold in her had been held in check, but it was fighting again - hard. She fiddled with some trinkets on the desk, trying to think of how she'd say this.
Philippe looked over at her, “It's been three years, yet I know you well enough to know that there is something different, my love. What is bothering you? How can I help?”
She glanced up at him and spoke softly, “I do not wish to alarm you, but you need to know.” Not looking at him, she took a deep breath. “I.. I was taken captive.” She struggled to put it into words. “Not yet one year from today. I have never spoken of this to anyone. Not even Xenograg.”
He listened and braced himself for the worst.
“I was there for only a week.”
“There?”
Her eyes turn to his now.. Anguish filled them. “I was tortured, as you. Nothing has been right since.
His face changed, concern and anger took over his expression. “Tortured? My love?!”
She held up one hand, “Please…” she started to pace around the room. “It’s almost impossible to speak of this. It still lingers in my mind.” She stopped and tears formed in her eyes as she looked at him. Sorrow and guilt welled up in her, and he could see the pain within his wife, and wondered how much abused she had suffered, yet he was silent.
There was a rushed sentence, and then she confessed all. “In a moment of madness I slept with another man. I don’t know what possessed me.” She stifled a sob and put one shaking hand to her mouth as her eyes closed. Her shoulders shook in silent sobs, her face crumpled into her hand, she could hardly be heard when she repeated herself, “I slept with another man.”
Philippe couldn't believe what he had just heard. Surely he heard it wrong. “You....you did what?
She dropped her hand and looked up to the ceiling, not taking back what she had just confessed.
He couldn't believe what she had just said...his wife...the Queen of Eldicor...the woman he loved. “You slept with another man? You had sex with another man?” He was having trouble having it sink in, it was so unexpected.
She looked at Philippe, the one she took vows with. “I did,” she said and she was trembling and began to pace the room again not daring to look at him.
Philippe looked at her pacing, and when he finally spoke his words were mechanical and full of hurt. “Of all the treasure I've taken in my life, you could put it all together and it still becomes nothing compared to the treasure that has now been stolen from me.”
She stopped and put her hands on the desk, her back to him, and waited to hear the rest. “If you wish to leave me, I would understand”
-=to be continued=-
The conflict in her heart lay heavily between them. She loved him and the cold in her had been held in check, but it was fighting again - hard. She fiddled with some trinkets on the desk, trying to think of how she'd say this.
Philippe looked over at her, “It's been three years, yet I know you well enough to know that there is something different, my love. What is bothering you? How can I help?”
She glanced up at him and spoke softly, “I do not wish to alarm you, but you need to know.” Not looking at him, she took a deep breath. “I.. I was taken captive.” She struggled to put it into words. “Not yet one year from today. I have never spoken of this to anyone. Not even Xenograg.”
He listened and braced himself for the worst.
“I was there for only a week.”
“There?”
Her eyes turn to his now.. Anguish filled them. “I was tortured, as you. Nothing has been right since.
His face changed, concern and anger took over his expression. “Tortured? My love?!”
She held up one hand, “Please…” she started to pace around the room. “It’s almost impossible to speak of this. It still lingers in my mind.” She stopped and tears formed in her eyes as she looked at him. Sorrow and guilt welled up in her, and he could see the pain within his wife, and wondered how much abused she had suffered, yet he was silent.
There was a rushed sentence, and then she confessed all. “In a moment of madness I slept with another man. I don’t know what possessed me.” She stifled a sob and put one shaking hand to her mouth as her eyes closed. Her shoulders shook in silent sobs, her face crumpled into her hand, she could hardly be heard when she repeated herself, “I slept with another man.”
Philippe couldn't believe what he had just heard. Surely he heard it wrong. “You....you did what?
She dropped her hand and looked up to the ceiling, not taking back what she had just confessed.
He couldn't believe what she had just said...his wife...the Queen of Eldicor...the woman he loved. “You slept with another man? You had sex with another man?” He was having trouble having it sink in, it was so unexpected.
She looked at Philippe, the one she took vows with. “I did,” she said and she was trembling and began to pace the room again not daring to look at him.
Philippe looked at her pacing, and when he finally spoke his words were mechanical and full of hurt. “Of all the treasure I've taken in my life, you could put it all together and it still becomes nothing compared to the treasure that has now been stolen from me.”
She stopped and put her hands on the desk, her back to him, and waited to hear the rest. “If you wish to leave me, I would understand”
-=to be continued=-
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Philippe de Bouillon
- Adventurer
- Posts: 29
- Joined: Fri Jan 06, 2006 7:13 pm
- Location: Kindgom of Eldicor, Rhydin
Emotions tore him apart. All of the tortures he experienced did not tear his heart nearly as much as this one confession. His wife, the woman he loved, the one he thought of every day of his life, had given her body to someone else. “Who? Who was it?”
“His name is Jack Gray, but it matters not. Whoever it was, the end is the same.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. “Jack Gray?” Philippe sneered, ”Can't this man who would soil my wife and queen with his filthy body even have a decent name? Jack Gray - a pitiful name for a pitiful man.” Philippe would remember that name and the one who bore it would be soon found dead. “It’s not even the name of a man,” he spit the words out in disgust. He would not face Teleperien. Instead he walked to the window that she had so often looked out of.
Not aanswering, she moved to the fireplace and took the poker and moved a few of the logs and put another on. “Philippe, it was madness. I cannot tell you why for I do not know myself.”
He turned to her, “Oui...it was madness all right! You took our love and cast it to a pig. All I could do for three years was dream of being with you, and you were making love with another. It's madness, but I believe that I've been the one who's been mad! I had foolishly trusted and believed that my wife would be faithful. What madness!”
Her soul was shaken to the core. It tore her as she heard the hurt and the anger in his voice. She felt as if her heart had died. A trust had been broken. She betrayed him, and she knew it. She was no longer a queen, no longer precious to anyone or anything. She tried not to expect anything in return, “I beg your forgiveness.” Silent tears rolled down her face, dropping on the hearth, leaving little marks on the hot brick.
"Forgiveness?" he spit out the word, anger tearing him apart; but he saw her tears and the hurt in her expression. It was no wonder she was so different. Guilt and shame can destroy a person.
After several moments his expression changed and he sighed. "No...I can't forgive you, Tele, because there's nothing to forgive. It's all my fault. I was not here for you. I should have been there for you to give you the comfort you needed. The only guilt is my own.”
He grabbed his rapier and his pistols and prepared to leave. “I have failed you in every way imaginable. I do not deserve your love.” He walked to the door.
Tele turned to face him, her eyes wide and filled with alarm. She spoke quickly, “It is I who is unworthy. You came back. I thought you left as those before you had. Never to see you again. Yet you hung on to what life you had to get back to an elvish whore!” He could hear the disgust in her voice. “That is what I've become.” She sank to the floor, her legs unable to hold her up anymore, and she huddled her knees to her chest.
Philippe looked at her and his heart broken, his will broken - her infidelity succeeded where all pain of physical torture had failed. He didn't know what to say. All words failed him. He wanted to leave and never look back. He wanted to use every woman in the kingdom to get revenge.
He looked at Tele as she collapsed to the floor...and then he forgot his pride. He set down his weapons and walked to her and got down on his knees. “Tele...,” he whispered her name and put his arms out and embraced her, pulling her against his chest.”
Her body went with his embrace, anguish welling in her, engulfing every sense. She softly said in a trembling voice, “do not deserve your trust.” In an even softer voice she said, “Please forgive me.”
-=to be continued=-
“His name is Jack Gray, but it matters not. Whoever it was, the end is the same.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. “Jack Gray?” Philippe sneered, ”Can't this man who would soil my wife and queen with his filthy body even have a decent name? Jack Gray - a pitiful name for a pitiful man.” Philippe would remember that name and the one who bore it would be soon found dead. “It’s not even the name of a man,” he spit the words out in disgust. He would not face Teleperien. Instead he walked to the window that she had so often looked out of.
Not aanswering, she moved to the fireplace and took the poker and moved a few of the logs and put another on. “Philippe, it was madness. I cannot tell you why for I do not know myself.”
He turned to her, “Oui...it was madness all right! You took our love and cast it to a pig. All I could do for three years was dream of being with you, and you were making love with another. It's madness, but I believe that I've been the one who's been mad! I had foolishly trusted and believed that my wife would be faithful. What madness!”
Her soul was shaken to the core. It tore her as she heard the hurt and the anger in his voice. She felt as if her heart had died. A trust had been broken. She betrayed him, and she knew it. She was no longer a queen, no longer precious to anyone or anything. She tried not to expect anything in return, “I beg your forgiveness.” Silent tears rolled down her face, dropping on the hearth, leaving little marks on the hot brick.
"Forgiveness?" he spit out the word, anger tearing him apart; but he saw her tears and the hurt in her expression. It was no wonder she was so different. Guilt and shame can destroy a person.
After several moments his expression changed and he sighed. "No...I can't forgive you, Tele, because there's nothing to forgive. It's all my fault. I was not here for you. I should have been there for you to give you the comfort you needed. The only guilt is my own.”
He grabbed his rapier and his pistols and prepared to leave. “I have failed you in every way imaginable. I do not deserve your love.” He walked to the door.
Tele turned to face him, her eyes wide and filled with alarm. She spoke quickly, “It is I who is unworthy. You came back. I thought you left as those before you had. Never to see you again. Yet you hung on to what life you had to get back to an elvish whore!” He could hear the disgust in her voice. “That is what I've become.” She sank to the floor, her legs unable to hold her up anymore, and she huddled her knees to her chest.
Philippe looked at her and his heart broken, his will broken - her infidelity succeeded where all pain of physical torture had failed. He didn't know what to say. All words failed him. He wanted to leave and never look back. He wanted to use every woman in the kingdom to get revenge.
He looked at Tele as she collapsed to the floor...and then he forgot his pride. He set down his weapons and walked to her and got down on his knees. “Tele...,” he whispered her name and put his arms out and embraced her, pulling her against his chest.”
Her body went with his embrace, anguish welling in her, engulfing every sense. She softly said in a trembling voice, “do not deserve your trust.” In an even softer voice she said, “Please forgive me.”
-=to be continued=-
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Philippe de Bouillon
- Adventurer
- Posts: 29
- Joined: Fri Jan 06, 2006 7:13 pm
- Location: Kindgom of Eldicor, Rhydin
He nodded against her head and whispered very softly, “I forgive you, Tele.”
A sob shook her body and he could feel how frail she had become. Outwardly she appeared as always, but inwardly she was walking a thin line between two minds.
Philippe just held her, too choked up to even speak. The forgiveness was easy...the trust would take time to build up again.
Her voice wavered, “Philippe, if you left me again. It would be my death. I need you.”
Two minutes before he was about to leave her...for good. But now he knew that would never happen. He whispered, “I'll never leave you, Tele. I'm with you until the day I die.” He looked at Tele and brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs
She turned to face him; a warm current flowed from somewhere. It was wrapping it's tendrils around her heart. She took one hand and traced the shape of his face. “May I tell you more?” Her voice a little more steady, but still unsure. She looked down yet again. “I refused him when he wished to bed me again. But.. Philippe.. I feel as if I'm going mad.” Her words now coming out in a rush, “I have not spoken of this to anyone.”
He listened to what she had to say. Somehow there was little consolation in that she had refused the second proposition. Still, he placed a kiss to her cheek and whispered, “We'll get through this, mon cheri...we'll get you well.” He was still going to kill Jack Gray...the man didn't deserve to live.”
Tele sighed and with one trembling hand she wiped her eyes, then she struggled to stand. Philippe stood and helped her to her feet, for having told all this, she felt spent, exhausted. “When I returned from the keep where I was held, I was ill for a long time. My wounds would not heal. Finally, the wizard came, but nothing has been right since that time.”
H walked her to the bed and replied softly, “We'll find a way, my love...we'll find a way.” He was totally emotionally spent, drained, just going through the motions at this point. She slipped off the gown and lay down with a deep sigh. She then looked up into his face, “I love you. I will always love you, even beyond this life.” She did not expect anything, she closed her eyes and let the tears still clinging to the lashes.
A sob shook her body and he could feel how frail she had become. Outwardly she appeared as always, but inwardly she was walking a thin line between two minds.
Philippe just held her, too choked up to even speak. The forgiveness was easy...the trust would take time to build up again.
Her voice wavered, “Philippe, if you left me again. It would be my death. I need you.”
Two minutes before he was about to leave her...for good. But now he knew that would never happen. He whispered, “I'll never leave you, Tele. I'm with you until the day I die.” He looked at Tele and brushed the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs
She turned to face him; a warm current flowed from somewhere. It was wrapping it's tendrils around her heart. She took one hand and traced the shape of his face. “May I tell you more?” Her voice a little more steady, but still unsure. She looked down yet again. “I refused him when he wished to bed me again. But.. Philippe.. I feel as if I'm going mad.” Her words now coming out in a rush, “I have not spoken of this to anyone.”
He listened to what she had to say. Somehow there was little consolation in that she had refused the second proposition. Still, he placed a kiss to her cheek and whispered, “We'll get through this, mon cheri...we'll get you well.” He was still going to kill Jack Gray...the man didn't deserve to live.”
Tele sighed and with one trembling hand she wiped her eyes, then she struggled to stand. Philippe stood and helped her to her feet, for having told all this, she felt spent, exhausted. “When I returned from the keep where I was held, I was ill for a long time. My wounds would not heal. Finally, the wizard came, but nothing has been right since that time.”
H walked her to the bed and replied softly, “We'll find a way, my love...we'll find a way.” He was totally emotionally spent, drained, just going through the motions at this point. She slipped off the gown and lay down with a deep sigh. She then looked up into his face, “I love you. I will always love you, even beyond this life.” She did not expect anything, she closed her eyes and let the tears still clinging to the lashes.
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QueenTeleperien
- Adventurer
- Posts: 79
- Joined: Tue Jun 01, 2004 2:13 pm
(OOC: part of this is in "A Dark Side Rises)
Fevered dreams haunted the elven queen all that night. Eyes, hooks covered in her blood.. a poker that glowed red as she lay helpless. Teleperien woke, terror gripping her. She turned her head to look at Philippe. She needed his arms around her. But..
He lay on his side and faced away from her. A tear rolled down her face as she closes her eyes and drifted off again.
Birds outside the window woke Tele again. Grey skies filled the room with a dreary color. She looked over at the pillow next to her. It was empty, the impression of a head still there. Sitting up she looked around the room. Philippe’s pistols and rapier was gone.
Emptiness filled her soul, it was a tomb. Tele felt totally alone. Slowly she rose. She knew Philippe would be gone when she woke. How could she expect otherwise? He will never look at her the same way again.
Numbly she slung her rob on and pulled the bell rope. Constance entered the room after a short knock and looked around the room.
“Where is Philippe?” Constance asked.
“He went to the village.” She lied. “He needed a few items. Please help me dress and braid my hair.”
“Wou’d ye care fer breakfas’?”
“Nay.” Tele replied softly. “I am not hungry.”
“Lady, wha’ has ye so? Did ye quarrel?”
Tele could only nod. Constance didn’t press further or speak except when asking a question that was answered with a one or two word reply.
“Whi’ gown?” Constance would ask.
“It matters not.” Came the reply.
Finally she was finished and she left the room taking the back way to her study. She did not wish to pass by the courtyard and Great Hall. Too many eyes.. too many questions.
The guards jumped to attention as she approached the door, one of the elves taking the knob and opened the door for her. She did not look at them but straight ahead. The door closed behind her. Tom the hobbit, the realm’s seneschal was waiting for her for that day’s work. One look at her face the hobbit did not ask questions but busied himself organizing the newest missives in order so she could read them.
“Tom. I wish to be alone. I will read these. If I need you I will ring for you.”
“Aye Lady, as you wish.” He answered with a bow, hobbit style, one arm across his chest, then disappeared into his own little room where he worked.
The day was long. Tele really didn’t read, only glanced at the day’s missives. She did not move from her chair, staring into the fire. Several came to speak to her, but she left the knocks and calls unanswered.
Later that day however, Tom did come to her about a pressing matter that needed her attention at once. She sighed and listened as the hobbit outlined the problem. Just as Tom started to outline the problem another knock interrupted them. This time Tom went to the door and opened it. Tele heard him ask, “Aye?”
She peered over and saw through the door the strangest creature. Curious Tele stood and walked to the door. Tom handed her a note.
Standing behind the hobbit, Teleperien gave the small golem a curious look. "Yes?" The hobbit then handed her the missive."Who is this from?"
" From my master, High Druid of the Godess Meilikkei." It replied in a voice that matched it's size. Sounding as that of a child around 8 or 9. Slowly she opened the missive,breaking the seal and unfolding the paper. the missive is written in a flowing script, elegant yet simple:
"Your Majesty,
I humbly request an audience with you, at your leisure of course."
At the bottom of the page is the name:
"Artemus Kurgen,
High Druid of Meilikkei,"
The Queen looked up at the child-golem, finding that one foot is still up on tip-toe, turning from side to side anxiously, in a very childlike manner, hands behind it's back once more.
"Bide a moment" Dropping into a deep curtsy, head lowering respectfully. "As your Majesty wishes.." Teleperien then turned back into the room and picking up the quill on Tom's desk. Sliding a piece of parchment toward the golem, feminine script writing thus:
"Artemus,
I will have time this eve. Do not appear in the court yard, but outside the gate and allow the guard give you enterance. You will be escorted to my study."
She folded the paper and sealed it. On the front writing:
"Artemus Kurgen,
High Druid of Meilikkei "
Then she was walking to the door, handing the letter to the child-golem. Smiling sweetly it took the letter from her and placed it into a small pouch at her waist. "Thank you your Majesty." It dropped into another low curtsy, the dress about its rocky frame seeming to be the same as what made up its body.
"My name is Moira, should have stated that at first, sorry for being so rude, master would be ashamed if he knew. He says to always be polite and courteous." She seemed to babble a little bit as children tend to do.
Offering her a calming smile the queen bade her to stop. "Thank you Moira." The child-golem stopped speaking almost immediately and smiled in embarrassment. Then curtsied again, nodding vigorously before slowly sinking into the floor, still babbling apologies for the rudeness till she vanished completely.
Bewildered, the queen, hobbit and guard could only stare as the child sunk into the floor." That was ... unusual." Shaking her head, Teleperien turned back into the room, the door closing behind her.
Moira's head popped back out of the floor at those words "It's how we golems travel when we need to be somewhere quickly doncha know?" Then she is gone for good, leaving the elven guard blinking repeatedly in confusion.
Fevered dreams haunted the elven queen all that night. Eyes, hooks covered in her blood.. a poker that glowed red as she lay helpless. Teleperien woke, terror gripping her. She turned her head to look at Philippe. She needed his arms around her. But..
He lay on his side and faced away from her. A tear rolled down her face as she closes her eyes and drifted off again.
Birds outside the window woke Tele again. Grey skies filled the room with a dreary color. She looked over at the pillow next to her. It was empty, the impression of a head still there. Sitting up she looked around the room. Philippe’s pistols and rapier was gone.
Emptiness filled her soul, it was a tomb. Tele felt totally alone. Slowly she rose. She knew Philippe would be gone when she woke. How could she expect otherwise? He will never look at her the same way again.
Numbly she slung her rob on and pulled the bell rope. Constance entered the room after a short knock and looked around the room.
“Where is Philippe?” Constance asked.
“He went to the village.” She lied. “He needed a few items. Please help me dress and braid my hair.”
“Wou’d ye care fer breakfas’?”
“Nay.” Tele replied softly. “I am not hungry.”
“Lady, wha’ has ye so? Did ye quarrel?”
Tele could only nod. Constance didn’t press further or speak except when asking a question that was answered with a one or two word reply.
“Whi’ gown?” Constance would ask.
“It matters not.” Came the reply.
Finally she was finished and she left the room taking the back way to her study. She did not wish to pass by the courtyard and Great Hall. Too many eyes.. too many questions.
The guards jumped to attention as she approached the door, one of the elves taking the knob and opened the door for her. She did not look at them but straight ahead. The door closed behind her. Tom the hobbit, the realm’s seneschal was waiting for her for that day’s work. One look at her face the hobbit did not ask questions but busied himself organizing the newest missives in order so she could read them.
“Tom. I wish to be alone. I will read these. If I need you I will ring for you.”
“Aye Lady, as you wish.” He answered with a bow, hobbit style, one arm across his chest, then disappeared into his own little room where he worked.
The day was long. Tele really didn’t read, only glanced at the day’s missives. She did not move from her chair, staring into the fire. Several came to speak to her, but she left the knocks and calls unanswered.
Later that day however, Tom did come to her about a pressing matter that needed her attention at once. She sighed and listened as the hobbit outlined the problem. Just as Tom started to outline the problem another knock interrupted them. This time Tom went to the door and opened it. Tele heard him ask, “Aye?”
She peered over and saw through the door the strangest creature. Curious Tele stood and walked to the door. Tom handed her a note.
Standing behind the hobbit, Teleperien gave the small golem a curious look. "Yes?" The hobbit then handed her the missive."Who is this from?"
" From my master, High Druid of the Godess Meilikkei." It replied in a voice that matched it's size. Sounding as that of a child around 8 or 9. Slowly she opened the missive,breaking the seal and unfolding the paper. the missive is written in a flowing script, elegant yet simple:
"Your Majesty,
I humbly request an audience with you, at your leisure of course."
At the bottom of the page is the name:
"Artemus Kurgen,
High Druid of Meilikkei,"
The Queen looked up at the child-golem, finding that one foot is still up on tip-toe, turning from side to side anxiously, in a very childlike manner, hands behind it's back once more.
"Bide a moment" Dropping into a deep curtsy, head lowering respectfully. "As your Majesty wishes.." Teleperien then turned back into the room and picking up the quill on Tom's desk. Sliding a piece of parchment toward the golem, feminine script writing thus:
"Artemus,
I will have time this eve. Do not appear in the court yard, but outside the gate and allow the guard give you enterance. You will be escorted to my study."
She folded the paper and sealed it. On the front writing:
"Artemus Kurgen,
High Druid of Meilikkei "
Then she was walking to the door, handing the letter to the child-golem. Smiling sweetly it took the letter from her and placed it into a small pouch at her waist. "Thank you your Majesty." It dropped into another low curtsy, the dress about its rocky frame seeming to be the same as what made up its body.
"My name is Moira, should have stated that at first, sorry for being so rude, master would be ashamed if he knew. He says to always be polite and courteous." She seemed to babble a little bit as children tend to do.
Offering her a calming smile the queen bade her to stop. "Thank you Moira." The child-golem stopped speaking almost immediately and smiled in embarrassment. Then curtsied again, nodding vigorously before slowly sinking into the floor, still babbling apologies for the rudeness till she vanished completely.
Bewildered, the queen, hobbit and guard could only stare as the child sunk into the floor." That was ... unusual." Shaking her head, Teleperien turned back into the room, the door closing behind her.
Moira's head popped back out of the floor at those words "It's how we golems travel when we need to be somewhere quickly doncha know?" Then she is gone for good, leaving the elven guard blinking repeatedly in confusion.
-
Artemus Kurgen
- Seasoned Adventurer
- Posts: 477
- Joined: Mon Feb 21, 2005 7:52 pm
- Location: Elsewhere
(( OOC: This is an old post, from the 2nd page of the thread Kurgen Keep, to help explain the incident that is forthcoming))
His plans were slowly coming to fruition, what he had been waiting on had arrived. Moving through the dark streets of Rhydin, the young once druid made his way to a dark shop in Badside. Keeping to the shadows he knocked on the door thrice as was the signal to gain entrance this late at night.
The shop keeper was a diminutive block of flab and bones. His hair even this late at night was lice ridden and his clothing was vastly rumpled appearing to be his sleepwear as well as his work clothes. Grumbling about the hour he eyed the young man warily taking note of his dark robes and the staff in his hands.
“Fine....bring yon carcass inside 'fore sum’ on sees ye.” With a less than discreet emission of flatulence he waited till the lad was standing by a nearby counter before shutting the door. "Now...” The merchant finally spoke after a moment’s pause to make sure no one had followed his after-hours customer. “What business brings ye hence to me shop? Speak quick else I'll toss ye out" The youth with the dark robes only offered an amused smile trying to imagine this overconfident milksop trying to manhandle him.
Deciding it best to get down to business the youth with the staff cleared his throat, and uttered a single word. Before the shopkeeper could react he was launched across the room into a large high-backed chair. Flipping backwards with the furniture piece, the man groaned once before falling into unconsciousness. A small trickle of blood coming from the back of his head where it struck the corner of a bookshelf.
Humming a comforting dirge, the Artemus walked toward a large chest hidden in a corner. With cold efficiency he undid the meager warding and pathetic poison dart trap. He was vastly unimpressed thus far. Spotting his quarry instantly, the young mage grabbed a large black book that seemed to absorb the light of the room. Turning around he looked at the still form of the shop owner and frowned. “I am many things. But a thief is something I am not." With a curt nod a large bag appeared on the counter filled with more than enough gold to pay for the book and the shopkeeper's now wounded pride. Putting the book into a sack, he strode through the back entrance shutting the door behind him, the multiple locks and booby traps sliding back into place as if they had never been disturbed.
******
(( Hours later ))
The book safely put away in a safe place, Artemus decided it might be nice to watch the Arch mage Tourney. Arriving in his usual fashion of simply materializing from the shadows; he headed for his table near in the more shadowed part of the Isle. Spotting him, Rhaine made her way over to his table. She seemed to be spending quite a bit of time with him lately; despite her distance and his trifling attempts to appear indifferent he had a feeling of attachment outside of the direct link she had created.
They spoke idly for a time of the events unfolding within Rhydin, and among their allies and acquaintances. Then Vanion bragged about his abduction of the Elvin Queen Teleperien. For all his magical gifts...Vanion Shadowcast was a fool in Art's eyes. Whenever things do not go his way…he abducts someone like a child throwing a temper tantrum. This thought he spoke aloud for all to hear, knowing it was true in many folk’s minds. He mainly spoke it out loud because Vanion had called HIM a fool, for speaking of a universal truth. That those whom we tend to walk upon and consider beneath of us are always those that end up defeating us. The tournament went swiftly with the final match being between Brigath and Vanion. The Keeper of Air had disappointed Art by losing. At some point the current Arch mage, Vincent Smith, had left. With the Arch mage not around, the final match was postponed and the rings opened for the masses to duel at long last. It was a slow night for duels and saw Artemus even out with a single win and a loss. Sighing heavily he walked back to his table that appeared at any venue he decided to attend. Lounging wearily in his seat he watched the last duel of the evening as the caller had announced the closing of the Queue. Out of nowhere, without a warning, the same book he had 'acquired' only hours before appeared in front of him on the table. "What are you doing here?" he asked himself more than anyone else at the sudden appearance of the book unbidden. Not understanding what had called it to him, Artemus reached out with a cautious hand to grab the book. Just as his fingers were about to fall onto the book, silver runes embedded on the cover flared to life, the book slid away from his hand. “By Shar's grace... “He swore softly, frowning at the books behavior. Muttering a few soft Umbrian words the book levitated into the air. ~Least I can still control it......but...why did it flee....and more importantly.....why did it com here? ~ He thought to himself. Reaching out to touch the book again he felt the subtle vibrations as it fought his spell to get away from him. Letting the book float back down to the table he noticed Rhaine had walked over to his table.
"Perhaps the book wishes you to go somewhere" With a shrug he looked at the book in regards to the comment issued by Rhaine. "What is its' intent? " he asked rhetorically. Stretching slightly Rhaine shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out - to test" With a sigh he reached out to touch the book for the third and final time. As he did so its pages opened to a place he had not seen before. “What in the Nine...” he muttered softly as he leaned closer to look at the strange but familiar glowing script on the page before him.”Why...this looks like..." before he could finish the thought the book flared to life pulling him inside of its enspelled pages. With a flutter of aged parchment the book closed, the runes flashing one last time.
Coughing several times he walked out of the haze that had greeted him upon being pulled into the book. Blinking his eyes repeatedly he adjusted them to the darkness he found beyond the haze. He appeared to be in a large chamber that looked several centuries old, the tiles on the floor were cracked and broken, bones littered the floor. The only source of light to be found came from six large bronze braziers scattered throughout the room. The closest to his current position was approximately three hundred feet to his right. Heading towards it, he started to rub his arms with his hands trying to dispel the chill that had swept into the room from out of nowhere.
Just when he began to feel the warmth coming from the glowing fire in the brazier it went out right before his eyes, preceded by a raspy whisper. “Shadows do not need heat…” Spinning around his gray eyes scanned the darkness calmly trying to figure out the direction the voice had come from. “Why’d you bring me here?” He suppressed the urge to ask the stupidly overused ~who’s there?!~ He looked into the deeper shadows trying to identify his ‘friend’ in hiding.
Artemus was half way to the next closest brazier when that same raspy voice spoke in his ear. “To complete your training…acolyte…” Whirling around to face the owner of that whisper he just about tripped on a small pile of bones he failed to notice at his feet. Just barely catching his balance he looked around wildly, a series of curses coming to his tongue but none of them finding a voice.
“My training…What do you mean…‘complete my training?’. I have the final book…..my ‘training’ is complete.” Before he was even done speaking the owner of that increasingly annoying raspy voice was laughing wildly, the sound like nails on glass.
“Your final lesson is not done….you have one task left to complete.” As if his words had been a cue or trigger all of the braziers around the room abruptly extinguished themselves, plunging the room into an impregnable darkness. Artemus soon found that even his infrared vision was useless in this shadowed place.
“What do I have to do….Umbrian? “ He asked trying and failing to bring a ball of light to his hand. “Magic from the school of light will not work in this place…acolyte. To succeed here…you must use your true power…your…dark…power.”
“My…dark…power…” He repeated aloud, understanding dawning on him. This was a test to see how far along the path to becoming an Umbramancer he was. Focusing his thoughts to make them attuned to the shadows he summoned to mind the first spell he had learned. Speaking the trigger phrase, six bolts of red lightning shot out of his outstretched hands to fill the braziers with black fire, filling the room with an eerie light. Clapping resounded in the room as the lit braziers that immediately went out and were re-lit with normal fire. Blue electricity crackled along the walls of the room. Out of nowhere he was assailed by great agony, his whole body racked with pain making him fall to the floor, he could feel himself changing. The torture went on for several minutes before subsiding, leaving him lying on the floor gasping for breath. “The change has begun…” Came the voice of his ‘teacher’. “Your body is becoming shadow….for the most part anyway…” Even without being told, Artemus could feel his body changing, becoming lighter losing physical substance.
Looking around again he finally found his voice after several tries at speaking, his voice was slightly raspy, not quite like the being testing him. “Show yourself…” He called out trying to cough away the rasp in his tone. “As you wish” came the increasingly amused sounding reply.
Like a black tornado the Umbamancer made himself known, his tall wiry frame covered by tattered and torn black robes. The cowl pulled up over his head hid his face completely from view except for two icy blue dots glowing faintly in the recessed darkness of the hood. His robes looked to be made of dark smoke, swirling in upon themselves as if there was no physical body beneath them.
“Here I am….are you ready for the last part of your training?” He asked calmly, his voice emotionless. With a sigh Artemus nodded to the old being and rotated his neck causing it to issue several satisfying cracks. Stepping away from Artemus by several feet, a black staff appeared in the Umbrian’s hand. “You must best me in combat…using all of the Umbrae magic you have learned thus far.” Steeling himself, Artemus readied for the fight of his life.
Not even waiting for the old Umbrian to begin muttering the slightest incantation he sent bolts of searing dark fire coursing towards the Shadow Mage. To his disappointment he only got the satisfaction of watching the bolts be absorbed into the beings tattered robes. Before the last ball of black fire even struck he had his next spell up and ready a line of white light flashing towards the Mage destroying shadows that got into it’s path. The beam never got anywhere near his adversary before it the old one’s image wavered like a disturbed image in the water.
Sensing movement off to the left, he dove into a roll and was rewarded with a whoosh of air as something sliced overhead. Pivoting to the side and rolling again he left a cloud of black mist in his wake, hoping to cloud his movements from the skilled caster.
Out of nowhere large hands made of pure shadow enveloped his lean frame. Holding him by the ankles the hands set about treating him like a rug that needed cleaning. Crashing into one pillar after another he felt rib after rib crack and break, something punctured his lung. The side of his head made fast friends with yet another pillar as he spit up what seemed like several pints of blood. Then the hands let go. Flying through the air he had the vague feeling of an approaching wall but wasn’t coherent enough to cast a spell to soften the blow. He met the wall in a painful embrace, his form indenting the stone a few inches. As he fell to the floor with a pained groan he managed to release one final spell and was rewarded with an agonized scream as his spell flared to life when the Umbramancer came in close to finish him off.
“Eat that you fv<k!” Watching the ancient Umbrian writhe in pain was satisfying but he knew it wasn’t over yet. Muttering soft shadowed incantations a blade made of pure darkness appeared in his outstretched hand. “Guess…I…passed.” He said before he brought the dark sword down in an arc aiming to pierce his opponents’ heart. Laughing maniacally the Umbramancer at Artemus’s feet began fading.
The weeks had passed monotonously after Artemus had bested the Umbrian to finish his training, he was still unsure how he had beaten the ancient master...something told he had not truly killed the creature...only changed it. And himself. That monotony was only broken by his meeting Shandren and then rescuing Queen Teleperien of Eldicor from Vanion Shadowcast's Myr'khulian Temple.
Again, his plans were coming to fruition...he had redeemed himself to Teleperien, and...More importantly of all...He was not a Keeper on the Twilight Isle. The duel in itself was somewhat a blur...as if he was not truly dueling. It felt like someone else had been in the driver's seat that was his mind. Try as he might to shake off the feeling...he couldn't....whenever he looked in the mirror...his image seemed distorted...altered. It felt like a part of that millennia old Umbrian had joined with him...their power mixed and mingled to make him something more. But what more could he be? To that question....there were no answers as of yet and still life was moving on. But there was a change in the shadows he felt more keenly, now that he was practically a shadow himself. Traveling through the shadows was no longer a spell or an ability he had mastered.....he could move through them at will now. He didn't need to ask any sub layer creature to let him in...Didn’t need to avoid those dark beings that lived in the shadows. They avoided him...they asked him to travel amongst them...they...now feared and respected him. That in itself was rare and unnerving because...the only beings the shadow demons and spirits respected or feared....were beings like themselves. He had mastered one of the hardest schools of magic....but what was the price for doing so? Still, life for the younger Kurgen was moving on, even if it was moving onto something that would test him more than anything before. But would he be able to pass the test...or would it destroy him utterly? Destroy him...and all those he knew and cared.
His plans were slowly coming to fruition, what he had been waiting on had arrived. Moving through the dark streets of Rhydin, the young once druid made his way to a dark shop in Badside. Keeping to the shadows he knocked on the door thrice as was the signal to gain entrance this late at night.
The shop keeper was a diminutive block of flab and bones. His hair even this late at night was lice ridden and his clothing was vastly rumpled appearing to be his sleepwear as well as his work clothes. Grumbling about the hour he eyed the young man warily taking note of his dark robes and the staff in his hands.
“Fine....bring yon carcass inside 'fore sum’ on sees ye.” With a less than discreet emission of flatulence he waited till the lad was standing by a nearby counter before shutting the door. "Now...” The merchant finally spoke after a moment’s pause to make sure no one had followed his after-hours customer. “What business brings ye hence to me shop? Speak quick else I'll toss ye out" The youth with the dark robes only offered an amused smile trying to imagine this overconfident milksop trying to manhandle him.
Deciding it best to get down to business the youth with the staff cleared his throat, and uttered a single word. Before the shopkeeper could react he was launched across the room into a large high-backed chair. Flipping backwards with the furniture piece, the man groaned once before falling into unconsciousness. A small trickle of blood coming from the back of his head where it struck the corner of a bookshelf.
Humming a comforting dirge, the Artemus walked toward a large chest hidden in a corner. With cold efficiency he undid the meager warding and pathetic poison dart trap. He was vastly unimpressed thus far. Spotting his quarry instantly, the young mage grabbed a large black book that seemed to absorb the light of the room. Turning around he looked at the still form of the shop owner and frowned. “I am many things. But a thief is something I am not." With a curt nod a large bag appeared on the counter filled with more than enough gold to pay for the book and the shopkeeper's now wounded pride. Putting the book into a sack, he strode through the back entrance shutting the door behind him, the multiple locks and booby traps sliding back into place as if they had never been disturbed.
******
(( Hours later ))
The book safely put away in a safe place, Artemus decided it might be nice to watch the Arch mage Tourney. Arriving in his usual fashion of simply materializing from the shadows; he headed for his table near in the more shadowed part of the Isle. Spotting him, Rhaine made her way over to his table. She seemed to be spending quite a bit of time with him lately; despite her distance and his trifling attempts to appear indifferent he had a feeling of attachment outside of the direct link she had created.
They spoke idly for a time of the events unfolding within Rhydin, and among their allies and acquaintances. Then Vanion bragged about his abduction of the Elvin Queen Teleperien. For all his magical gifts...Vanion Shadowcast was a fool in Art's eyes. Whenever things do not go his way…he abducts someone like a child throwing a temper tantrum. This thought he spoke aloud for all to hear, knowing it was true in many folk’s minds. He mainly spoke it out loud because Vanion had called HIM a fool, for speaking of a universal truth. That those whom we tend to walk upon and consider beneath of us are always those that end up defeating us. The tournament went swiftly with the final match being between Brigath and Vanion. The Keeper of Air had disappointed Art by losing. At some point the current Arch mage, Vincent Smith, had left. With the Arch mage not around, the final match was postponed and the rings opened for the masses to duel at long last. It was a slow night for duels and saw Artemus even out with a single win and a loss. Sighing heavily he walked back to his table that appeared at any venue he decided to attend. Lounging wearily in his seat he watched the last duel of the evening as the caller had announced the closing of the Queue. Out of nowhere, without a warning, the same book he had 'acquired' only hours before appeared in front of him on the table. "What are you doing here?" he asked himself more than anyone else at the sudden appearance of the book unbidden. Not understanding what had called it to him, Artemus reached out with a cautious hand to grab the book. Just as his fingers were about to fall onto the book, silver runes embedded on the cover flared to life, the book slid away from his hand. “By Shar's grace... “He swore softly, frowning at the books behavior. Muttering a few soft Umbrian words the book levitated into the air. ~Least I can still control it......but...why did it flee....and more importantly.....why did it com here? ~ He thought to himself. Reaching out to touch the book again he felt the subtle vibrations as it fought his spell to get away from him. Letting the book float back down to the table he noticed Rhaine had walked over to his table.
"Perhaps the book wishes you to go somewhere" With a shrug he looked at the book in regards to the comment issued by Rhaine. "What is its' intent? " he asked rhetorically. Stretching slightly Rhaine shrugged. “There’s only one way to find out - to test" With a sigh he reached out to touch the book for the third and final time. As he did so its pages opened to a place he had not seen before. “What in the Nine...” he muttered softly as he leaned closer to look at the strange but familiar glowing script on the page before him.”Why...this looks like..." before he could finish the thought the book flared to life pulling him inside of its enspelled pages. With a flutter of aged parchment the book closed, the runes flashing one last time.
Coughing several times he walked out of the haze that had greeted him upon being pulled into the book. Blinking his eyes repeatedly he adjusted them to the darkness he found beyond the haze. He appeared to be in a large chamber that looked several centuries old, the tiles on the floor were cracked and broken, bones littered the floor. The only source of light to be found came from six large bronze braziers scattered throughout the room. The closest to his current position was approximately three hundred feet to his right. Heading towards it, he started to rub his arms with his hands trying to dispel the chill that had swept into the room from out of nowhere.
Just when he began to feel the warmth coming from the glowing fire in the brazier it went out right before his eyes, preceded by a raspy whisper. “Shadows do not need heat…” Spinning around his gray eyes scanned the darkness calmly trying to figure out the direction the voice had come from. “Why’d you bring me here?” He suppressed the urge to ask the stupidly overused ~who’s there?!~ He looked into the deeper shadows trying to identify his ‘friend’ in hiding.
Artemus was half way to the next closest brazier when that same raspy voice spoke in his ear. “To complete your training…acolyte…” Whirling around to face the owner of that whisper he just about tripped on a small pile of bones he failed to notice at his feet. Just barely catching his balance he looked around wildly, a series of curses coming to his tongue but none of them finding a voice.
“My training…What do you mean…‘complete my training?’. I have the final book…..my ‘training’ is complete.” Before he was even done speaking the owner of that increasingly annoying raspy voice was laughing wildly, the sound like nails on glass.
“Your final lesson is not done….you have one task left to complete.” As if his words had been a cue or trigger all of the braziers around the room abruptly extinguished themselves, plunging the room into an impregnable darkness. Artemus soon found that even his infrared vision was useless in this shadowed place.
“What do I have to do….Umbrian? “ He asked trying and failing to bring a ball of light to his hand. “Magic from the school of light will not work in this place…acolyte. To succeed here…you must use your true power…your…dark…power.”
“My…dark…power…” He repeated aloud, understanding dawning on him. This was a test to see how far along the path to becoming an Umbramancer he was. Focusing his thoughts to make them attuned to the shadows he summoned to mind the first spell he had learned. Speaking the trigger phrase, six bolts of red lightning shot out of his outstretched hands to fill the braziers with black fire, filling the room with an eerie light. Clapping resounded in the room as the lit braziers that immediately went out and were re-lit with normal fire. Blue electricity crackled along the walls of the room. Out of nowhere he was assailed by great agony, his whole body racked with pain making him fall to the floor, he could feel himself changing. The torture went on for several minutes before subsiding, leaving him lying on the floor gasping for breath. “The change has begun…” Came the voice of his ‘teacher’. “Your body is becoming shadow….for the most part anyway…” Even without being told, Artemus could feel his body changing, becoming lighter losing physical substance.
Looking around again he finally found his voice after several tries at speaking, his voice was slightly raspy, not quite like the being testing him. “Show yourself…” He called out trying to cough away the rasp in his tone. “As you wish” came the increasingly amused sounding reply.
Like a black tornado the Umbamancer made himself known, his tall wiry frame covered by tattered and torn black robes. The cowl pulled up over his head hid his face completely from view except for two icy blue dots glowing faintly in the recessed darkness of the hood. His robes looked to be made of dark smoke, swirling in upon themselves as if there was no physical body beneath them.
“Here I am….are you ready for the last part of your training?” He asked calmly, his voice emotionless. With a sigh Artemus nodded to the old being and rotated his neck causing it to issue several satisfying cracks. Stepping away from Artemus by several feet, a black staff appeared in the Umbrian’s hand. “You must best me in combat…using all of the Umbrae magic you have learned thus far.” Steeling himself, Artemus readied for the fight of his life.
Not even waiting for the old Umbrian to begin muttering the slightest incantation he sent bolts of searing dark fire coursing towards the Shadow Mage. To his disappointment he only got the satisfaction of watching the bolts be absorbed into the beings tattered robes. Before the last ball of black fire even struck he had his next spell up and ready a line of white light flashing towards the Mage destroying shadows that got into it’s path. The beam never got anywhere near his adversary before it the old one’s image wavered like a disturbed image in the water.
Sensing movement off to the left, he dove into a roll and was rewarded with a whoosh of air as something sliced overhead. Pivoting to the side and rolling again he left a cloud of black mist in his wake, hoping to cloud his movements from the skilled caster.
Out of nowhere large hands made of pure shadow enveloped his lean frame. Holding him by the ankles the hands set about treating him like a rug that needed cleaning. Crashing into one pillar after another he felt rib after rib crack and break, something punctured his lung. The side of his head made fast friends with yet another pillar as he spit up what seemed like several pints of blood. Then the hands let go. Flying through the air he had the vague feeling of an approaching wall but wasn’t coherent enough to cast a spell to soften the blow. He met the wall in a painful embrace, his form indenting the stone a few inches. As he fell to the floor with a pained groan he managed to release one final spell and was rewarded with an agonized scream as his spell flared to life when the Umbramancer came in close to finish him off.
“Eat that you fv<k!” Watching the ancient Umbrian writhe in pain was satisfying but he knew it wasn’t over yet. Muttering soft shadowed incantations a blade made of pure darkness appeared in his outstretched hand. “Guess…I…passed.” He said before he brought the dark sword down in an arc aiming to pierce his opponents’ heart. Laughing maniacally the Umbramancer at Artemus’s feet began fading.
The weeks had passed monotonously after Artemus had bested the Umbrian to finish his training, he was still unsure how he had beaten the ancient master...something told he had not truly killed the creature...only changed it. And himself. That monotony was only broken by his meeting Shandren and then rescuing Queen Teleperien of Eldicor from Vanion Shadowcast's Myr'khulian Temple.
Again, his plans were coming to fruition...he had redeemed himself to Teleperien, and...More importantly of all...He was not a Keeper on the Twilight Isle. The duel in itself was somewhat a blur...as if he was not truly dueling. It felt like someone else had been in the driver's seat that was his mind. Try as he might to shake off the feeling...he couldn't....whenever he looked in the mirror...his image seemed distorted...altered. It felt like a part of that millennia old Umbrian had joined with him...their power mixed and mingled to make him something more. But what more could he be? To that question....there were no answers as of yet and still life was moving on. But there was a change in the shadows he felt more keenly, now that he was practically a shadow himself. Traveling through the shadows was no longer a spell or an ability he had mastered.....he could move through them at will now. He didn't need to ask any sub layer creature to let him in...Didn’t need to avoid those dark beings that lived in the shadows. They avoided him...they asked him to travel amongst them...they...now feared and respected him. That in itself was rare and unnerving because...the only beings the shadow demons and spirits respected or feared....were beings like themselves. He had mastered one of the hardest schools of magic....but what was the price for doing so? Still, life for the younger Kurgen was moving on, even if it was moving onto something that would test him more than anything before. But would he be able to pass the test...or would it destroy him utterly? Destroy him...and all those he knew and cared.
Artemus Allonan Kurgen
Headmaster of Arcanum Academy
Proprietor of Dark Wolf and Leopard Jewelers.
Headmaster of Arcanum Academy
Proprietor of Dark Wolf and Leopard Jewelers.
-
Philippe de Bouillon
- Adventurer
- Posts: 29
- Joined: Fri Jan 06, 2006 7:13 pm
- Location: Kindgom of Eldicor, Rhydin
Philippe and Tele had gone to bed but had not said much to each other. What more could be said? He held her for a long while, and when she had fallen into a fitful sleep, he turned over on his side so that he would not wake her with his own restlessness.
He was not going to get any sleep tonight. How could he. His wife just told him she had been tortured and later slept with another man. Her words haunted him, “Yet you hung on to what life you had to get back to an elvish whore!” Maybe that’s all she had become – as elvish whore. How could she do that to him?
The thoughts would not leave him any peace. He imagined her in the arms of some man. He imagined her naked before that man, being touched and touching; and the man on top of his wife, and the sounds of their lust being worked out together. All through the night he was haunted by such thoughts.
At four hours after midnight he could take it no more. He got out of bed and walked around the room. His wife was there in their bed, but she didn’t even seem to be his wife anymore. She was different; not the woman he married. Was he now in love with a woman who was just an elvish whore? How could he trust her again? Something was broken inside of him. What the torture couldn’t accomplish, her damn infidelity did. He was broken. What they had in each other was also broken.
He thought of the man with the ridiculous name – Jack Gray. Anger built up inside him until he was about to explode. He had to leave before he took it out on his … his elvish whore.
He looked down upon his restlessly sleeping wife and spit out the words, “Un slut et une putain, mais toujours une dame, eh?" (A slut and a whore, but always a Lady, yes?) She no longer looked like a lady to him.
Philippe dressed and picked up his weapons. The last thing in did in their chambers was to walk to the bed and pull up the covers to Tele’s shoulder. He noticed how pale her flesh was. It was an unnatural, sickly pale. Perhaps it was just the moonlight’s reflection. He didn't know, and to tell the truth, he didn't care.
He left the room and the castle.
He was heading out to kill someone.
-=to be continued in “Revenge and Recompense”=-
He was not going to get any sleep tonight. How could he. His wife just told him she had been tortured and later slept with another man. Her words haunted him, “Yet you hung on to what life you had to get back to an elvish whore!” Maybe that’s all she had become – as elvish whore. How could she do that to him?
The thoughts would not leave him any peace. He imagined her in the arms of some man. He imagined her naked before that man, being touched and touching; and the man on top of his wife, and the sounds of their lust being worked out together. All through the night he was haunted by such thoughts.
At four hours after midnight he could take it no more. He got out of bed and walked around the room. His wife was there in their bed, but she didn’t even seem to be his wife anymore. She was different; not the woman he married. Was he now in love with a woman who was just an elvish whore? How could he trust her again? Something was broken inside of him. What the torture couldn’t accomplish, her damn infidelity did. He was broken. What they had in each other was also broken.
He thought of the man with the ridiculous name – Jack Gray. Anger built up inside him until he was about to explode. He had to leave before he took it out on his … his elvish whore.
He looked down upon his restlessly sleeping wife and spit out the words, “Un slut et une putain, mais toujours une dame, eh?" (A slut and a whore, but always a Lady, yes?) She no longer looked like a lady to him.
Philippe dressed and picked up his weapons. The last thing in did in their chambers was to walk to the bed and pull up the covers to Tele’s shoulder. He noticed how pale her flesh was. It was an unnatural, sickly pale. Perhaps it was just the moonlight’s reflection. He didn't know, and to tell the truth, he didn't care.
He left the room and the castle.
He was heading out to kill someone.
-=to be continued in “Revenge and Recompense”=-
-
QueenTeleperien
- Adventurer
- Posts: 79
- Joined: Tue Jun 01, 2004 2:13 pm
A knock came to the door. Teleperien watched as the door opened on its own to revile the elves and Artemus Kurgen. The study had been readied. Artemus’s usual choice, water as well as tea for the queen sat on a small table near a crackling fire. Tele stands.
“Please enter Artemus.” Her voice is low and contralto, head held high in spite of the ache in her heart. The elves at the door bowed to the queen, hands to their chest, closing the door as they left.
Artemus gave a low bow. “Thank you for agreeing to see me on such a short notice, your Majesty.”
She gestures to a nearby sofa as she takes her own chair. “Please, sit. Water is your usual take. Do you wish anything else?”
“I do not trust my hands to hold the glass, so for now I will decline. But thank you, Majesty."
Unlike before, Aremus flopped onto the couch, Tele could see his face was warn and haggard. She doesn’t comment and after a moment of silence she asks, “How can I serve you?” It was more of a statement than actual question. Artemus cleared his throat as he sat up a little straighter, adjusted his robes. He cocked an eyebrow as he glanced at her.
“Well, this isn’t exactly about service that can be rendered.” He replied. Tele studied him a moment. At once she noticed he lacked the arrogance that usually was present in their previous talks. She was curious about this. She picked up her tea cup and sipped it, her eyes still on Artemus. He seemed distracted, his words rather jumbled.
“I umm...I'm here for several reasons.” He coughs, still uneasy. “Firstly, I have come to collect the little blue flower I left in your care.”
“Very well.” Standing again she walks to a set of shelves, she lifts the flower that is encased in a dome shaped glass bell. Its petals are almost fallen off, two remained. Carefully she set it in front of Artemus then retakes her seat.
He lifted the dome with care and set it aside. He took the flower into his hand, Tele watched as the thorn dug into his skin, as if taking root, feeding. The thorns glowed softly, petals reforming on the flower.
“Very clever.” Tele remarks with a small smile.
“This is a Blood Rose, a breed of flower I have been working on, but I fear the price of planting them is too high.” He answered grimly. He placed the flower back and set the glass dome over it once more. Teleperien’s eyebrows rise slightly but she does not comment.
“This rose....was Jack Gray.”
Tele’s eyebrows knit together. “I beg your pardon?”
He explained. “In a land far to the north, I found a field full of these. I spoke with a local healer and discovered that this particular rose, only grows where a man has been slain. She went on to tell me that this flower carries all of the memories that the man had while alive. But as each petal falls those memories fade, till it becomes just another flower at its next bloom. So, I took a few seeds and planted a small garden. When I returned it had blossomed. At Jack Gray’s burial I tossed a few seeds in with his body.”
“His burial?” She asked. At the name of Jack Gray she felt a sickening lurch. To that he merely nodded. He continues. “He was a fellow whom I had met only once...but he left an impression.” He shrugs. “All I know is that these flowers could be very useful if planted locally. A loved one dies of some accident or other, all one has to do is touch their rose and they can view a memory.”
Tele had no desire to relive that night. She asks, “Was his death accidental?”
“That I do not know, all the healer could tell me was that he was delivered onto her doorstep suffering some strange malady that rendered him voiceless, sickly looking bumps covering his body.”
A shudder runs through the queen. She did not wish to stay on the subject, so she redirected the conversation. “You seem worn.”
“Sleep has been unattainable these past few nights, and with the challenge pending.. I fear I may not have the energy to win. Plush with Shan and Amaris begging more of my time...between the two of them I swear I'm getting gray hairs.” A slight smile as he says this, but is quickly faded. Tele is tired of this and presses to get to the heart of the matter.
“I do not believe you asked an audience to collect what I could have sent. Why have you come?” She asks.
“Please enter Artemus.” Her voice is low and contralto, head held high in spite of the ache in her heart. The elves at the door bowed to the queen, hands to their chest, closing the door as they left.
Artemus gave a low bow. “Thank you for agreeing to see me on such a short notice, your Majesty.”
She gestures to a nearby sofa as she takes her own chair. “Please, sit. Water is your usual take. Do you wish anything else?”
“I do not trust my hands to hold the glass, so for now I will decline. But thank you, Majesty."
Unlike before, Aremus flopped onto the couch, Tele could see his face was warn and haggard. She doesn’t comment and after a moment of silence she asks, “How can I serve you?” It was more of a statement than actual question. Artemus cleared his throat as he sat up a little straighter, adjusted his robes. He cocked an eyebrow as he glanced at her.
“Well, this isn’t exactly about service that can be rendered.” He replied. Tele studied him a moment. At once she noticed he lacked the arrogance that usually was present in their previous talks. She was curious about this. She picked up her tea cup and sipped it, her eyes still on Artemus. He seemed distracted, his words rather jumbled.
“I umm...I'm here for several reasons.” He coughs, still uneasy. “Firstly, I have come to collect the little blue flower I left in your care.”
“Very well.” Standing again she walks to a set of shelves, she lifts the flower that is encased in a dome shaped glass bell. Its petals are almost fallen off, two remained. Carefully she set it in front of Artemus then retakes her seat.
He lifted the dome with care and set it aside. He took the flower into his hand, Tele watched as the thorn dug into his skin, as if taking root, feeding. The thorns glowed softly, petals reforming on the flower.
“Very clever.” Tele remarks with a small smile.
“This is a Blood Rose, a breed of flower I have been working on, but I fear the price of planting them is too high.” He answered grimly. He placed the flower back and set the glass dome over it once more. Teleperien’s eyebrows rise slightly but she does not comment.
“This rose....was Jack Gray.”
Tele’s eyebrows knit together. “I beg your pardon?”
He explained. “In a land far to the north, I found a field full of these. I spoke with a local healer and discovered that this particular rose, only grows where a man has been slain. She went on to tell me that this flower carries all of the memories that the man had while alive. But as each petal falls those memories fade, till it becomes just another flower at its next bloom. So, I took a few seeds and planted a small garden. When I returned it had blossomed. At Jack Gray’s burial I tossed a few seeds in with his body.”
“His burial?” She asked. At the name of Jack Gray she felt a sickening lurch. To that he merely nodded. He continues. “He was a fellow whom I had met only once...but he left an impression.” He shrugs. “All I know is that these flowers could be very useful if planted locally. A loved one dies of some accident or other, all one has to do is touch their rose and they can view a memory.”
Tele had no desire to relive that night. She asks, “Was his death accidental?”
“That I do not know, all the healer could tell me was that he was delivered onto her doorstep suffering some strange malady that rendered him voiceless, sickly looking bumps covering his body.”
A shudder runs through the queen. She did not wish to stay on the subject, so she redirected the conversation. “You seem worn.”
“Sleep has been unattainable these past few nights, and with the challenge pending.. I fear I may not have the energy to win. Plush with Shan and Amaris begging more of my time...between the two of them I swear I'm getting gray hairs.” A slight smile as he says this, but is quickly faded. Tele is tired of this and presses to get to the heart of the matter.
“I do not believe you asked an audience to collect what I could have sent. Why have you come?” She asks.
-
QueenTeleperien
- Adventurer
- Posts: 79
- Joined: Tue Jun 01, 2004 2:13 pm
“I ...have been having...strange...dreams of late.” He answered. Tele merely looked at him, awaiting further explanation.
”It always starts out the same, I'm standing alone in this vast darkness. There is not a single light around be, yet I can see myself clearly. Not really knowing where I am.. I start forward, keeping to a straight line in the hopes that maybe I would encounter a wall. But I find nothing.” He paused then continued as if just speaking of this drained him. “A voice answered, it sounded familiar. I said, ‘Your voice, I know it.’ The unnerving reply came. ‘~As it should, It is you Artemus. I am the voice of your ambitions, doubts and fears. I am the voice of your true self. Not this creature you play at.~'
Tele leaned forward, her fingers steepled, her face now intent. She noticed that he could not sit still, leg twitching, hands twisting.
“I was taken aback by this and thought of all things that I am, Keeper of the Tower of Earth, High Druid to the Goddess Meilikki, Umbramancer, Father of Amaris, Husband to Shandren. The voice replied ~’Ah, ah.. you have ‘become’ those thing through your actions. But they are not what you truly ARE.~’
By now Artemus looked totally uncomfortable, rolling his shoulders as if to shift a great weight. “I was growing angry and answered sharply, ‘Stop speaking in veils, YOU had to have been the one to bring me here...if you TRULY are ME. Now I've had enough of your games.. what is it you are seeking to accomplish with all of this?’ as I motioned to the surrounding darkness. “
Nodding, Tele silently waited for him to continue.
“All that I received for an answer was to keep moving forward.” He swore at this. “It said I would ‘See what I need to know.’ With no choice given me, I moved forward. The dark seemed endless. At last a small point of light appeared in the distance. I lifted my robes and ran to the spot. It grew bigger with each step.
“The point became a circle of light, with three figures standing at its center, two of them I know...the third had its' back to me. The first, standing off to the left...was myself... but at the same time, it was not me. The other was dressed in normal garb, the green robes of the druid. But.” Artemus grimaces. “The other side...the other side froze my blood. Black robes writhed around my form, like living shadows. A face pale and bloodless, with eyes black like a demon's. The two halves seemed to push at one another, fighting over control of the whole body.” He shivered. Huddling into himself he seemed to ward of the cold. Tele was truly puzzled.
“How can I help you with this? Have you come to learn the meaning of your dreams?”
“ Please...wait.. I beg of you, for I am not done yet...I am far from done” He holds up a hand, his eyes pleaded for patience. Tele nods, sets her cup on the small table and sat back in her chair. With a deep quavering breath he continued.
“Pulling my gaze away from my image... I looked at the second of the trio... and I saw HER, the Goddess whom I serve. I am one of the few in our order who she has let see her face more than the first time we are initiated and sanctified. Her face was a mixture of emotions as she stared at the figure which had it's back to me. But I could tell that she was far from happy.”
Tele stands and gestures for him to stay seated and to continue. As he speaks she walks to a cabinet and opened it, removing a bottle that held clear golden liquid and two glasses. It was the healing miruvor left by the Maia Eonwë. Returning to the chair she set the items on the table. Artemus continued his story as she carried out this task.
“ Meilikki turned and looked at the other Artemus, her mouth opening to speak to him. As she did, the dark figure took a threatening step towards her, while the second Artemus seemed to turn within himself.. the druid half turning look at Meilikki and listen, the shadow half turning it's back on her. Now the second Artemus was a grotesque version of what it had been, the two faces coming out of the front and back of one head, body twisted monstrously.” His voice came out as a strangled gasp. It was obvious to Tele he was very troubled by this. She nods again.
“Finally I could take no more of what I was seeing and I screamed ‘What madness is this?’ but none of the three figures turned to look at me, as if I was an unknown observer. I clamped my head over my ears and shut my eyes, trying to force the image from my mind and their voices from my ears...but nothing helped...they continued on, their words a maddening symphony.” He held his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sound that roared in his head. “Louder they grew till a deep blackness. This is where I wake, every night screaming.”
At this Tele felt the terror of her own dreams, she pushed it out of her mind as Artemus reached for the bottle trying to fill the second glass, his hand shaking so badly he could not fill the glass. Tele reached over and gently took the bottle from him and fills it halfway so he would not spill it. He lifts the glass and raises it to his lips.
“But yes...as you asked earlier...I have come here to learn the meaning of this dream.....for it does trouble me deeply.”
For a moment Tele is silent digesting what Artemus described to her.
“I am not a seer, but I can discern this.” She said. “There is a part of you that you do not wish to know. We all have a dark side; this one threatens to engulf you. Is this not so? I know of dark sides taking a life of their own. What do you fear Artemus Kurgen?”
He huddled on the couch. “I fear nothing, but myself. And what I am capable of doing.”
She studied him again and says, “Drink again, it will help.” Pours a small amount in her own glass and drinks it. She felt the warmth of the cordial in her stomach. It did calm her frayed nerves. He did not pick up his glass but the look on his face turns strange.
“Though I find it odd, since these dreams came, the only thoughts that seemed to bring any comfort is that of my daughter as well as my mother, though I hardly remember her.” His face softens at the thought.
“Artemus, I do not know more than this. You must face this dark side or it will destroy you. I can see how you’ve struggled with this. As for your mother, she is with you always, this I can see.” She gestures to his glass. “Please drink again, it will not harm you. It is miruvor. It will lend strength. Since you and the others rescued me from Vanion's keep.. I too have been plagued with nightmares. Did these dreams start then?”
He shook his head slowly. “Nae, they didst come later then tha'. Ah ken not what brought them, but I have a few ideas.. none of which Ah care to speak of.” Artemus starts at the change of his voice. Tele sat up and stared at him.
“I have no idea where that came from." He said, bewildered. “I think it best I stay here this night, though I am sure one night will be the end of this problem.” He nodded to Teleperien, “But I thank you for the offer though I have done little to warrant this, my actions in the arena's would give others pause to consider such a course. But I will do anything within my power to repay your kindness.... Anything.”
He lifted the glass to his lips his hand still shaking badly. She felt a wave of compassion. She leaned forward and laid her slender hand on his to send a healing energy, more out of instinct than anything else. The surge of energy, suddenly her mind collides with a wall, pain shot through her. She recoiled as if burned.
“It is fighting.” Tele said with alarm. Artemus jumps, eyes wide as he looked from his hand to her. “What did you jus…”
“My intent was to send you strength. There is block, I felt it.”
“A...a block ye say?” Artemus replied in that strange voice again. ”Well Ah can assure ye it's nothin' of mine own makins...”
Tele felt a cold shudder rush through her, she narrowed her eyes, it was obvious she was not talking to the Druid she knew. “Who are you?” It was a command, not to be denied.
“I be whom I said I was, Tele...tis me Artemus.. whom else do ye espect' to have before ye? I swear to ye, there be no trickery here. Your Majesty...I'll swear by any oath on any seal you desire...I speak true...” The voice came from Artemus, he huddled on the couch as if terribly cold. Tele pressed him.
“I do not need an oath. But I do require this. An answer. What do you want? Out with it.” Her voice hard, anger rose in her chest as she spoke. Artemus held his head with his hands, slid off the couch and onto his knees. His robes writhed like serpents around him when a black cloud billowed from his body. It formed a twisted image over his huddled form. A black cloudy hand pointed at the queen.
“This boy is mine to control...you will not interfere else I will bring everything you hold dear into the underworld. His fight is with me, and me alone. You will not aid him in any way...that is what -I- want!” The words reverberated in her office. Tele leapt to her feet, her own hand pointing. With both hands pointing to each other a black tendril wrapped around Tele’s arm. Tele lurched but maintained her balance.
“Get out.” Teleperien growled then shouted, “Guards!”
“You do not command me...I do as I wish!” The cloud claimed the body again, disappearing, leaving Artemus on the floor, unconscious. At once the door slams open the four elves appear. The black cloud swirled in her, she forced herself to focus. She leaned over him and prodded him. “Awake.”
He did not stir his skin as cold as the queen’s. Tele straightened. “Take him to the guest quarters. Do not leave his room unguarded.” She watched as the elves picked up his limp body and removed him from the room. She attempted to send a mental image where he was.. but another wave of black cloud stayed her. Outside, in the dark of the night a violent storm rolled in, lightening flashed across swirling clouds followed by a deafening clap of thunder. Rain fell in sheets against the window of Tele’s study.
She resisted no longer, the long fight, her broken soul held little strength. She closed her eyes as the cold now held her, skin pale, slightly blue. When she opened her eyes, they were no longer the sea grey, but totally black. An evil smile twisted her face.
What Vanion wanted to accomplish was finished by the druid. The taint was now complete.
”It always starts out the same, I'm standing alone in this vast darkness. There is not a single light around be, yet I can see myself clearly. Not really knowing where I am.. I start forward, keeping to a straight line in the hopes that maybe I would encounter a wall. But I find nothing.” He paused then continued as if just speaking of this drained him. “A voice answered, it sounded familiar. I said, ‘Your voice, I know it.’ The unnerving reply came. ‘~As it should, It is you Artemus. I am the voice of your ambitions, doubts and fears. I am the voice of your true self. Not this creature you play at.~'
Tele leaned forward, her fingers steepled, her face now intent. She noticed that he could not sit still, leg twitching, hands twisting.
“I was taken aback by this and thought of all things that I am, Keeper of the Tower of Earth, High Druid to the Goddess Meilikki, Umbramancer, Father of Amaris, Husband to Shandren. The voice replied ~’Ah, ah.. you have ‘become’ those thing through your actions. But they are not what you truly ARE.~’
By now Artemus looked totally uncomfortable, rolling his shoulders as if to shift a great weight. “I was growing angry and answered sharply, ‘Stop speaking in veils, YOU had to have been the one to bring me here...if you TRULY are ME. Now I've had enough of your games.. what is it you are seeking to accomplish with all of this?’ as I motioned to the surrounding darkness. “
Nodding, Tele silently waited for him to continue.
“All that I received for an answer was to keep moving forward.” He swore at this. “It said I would ‘See what I need to know.’ With no choice given me, I moved forward. The dark seemed endless. At last a small point of light appeared in the distance. I lifted my robes and ran to the spot. It grew bigger with each step.
“The point became a circle of light, with three figures standing at its center, two of them I know...the third had its' back to me. The first, standing off to the left...was myself... but at the same time, it was not me. The other was dressed in normal garb, the green robes of the druid. But.” Artemus grimaces. “The other side...the other side froze my blood. Black robes writhed around my form, like living shadows. A face pale and bloodless, with eyes black like a demon's. The two halves seemed to push at one another, fighting over control of the whole body.” He shivered. Huddling into himself he seemed to ward of the cold. Tele was truly puzzled.
“How can I help you with this? Have you come to learn the meaning of your dreams?”
“ Please...wait.. I beg of you, for I am not done yet...I am far from done” He holds up a hand, his eyes pleaded for patience. Tele nods, sets her cup on the small table and sat back in her chair. With a deep quavering breath he continued.
“Pulling my gaze away from my image... I looked at the second of the trio... and I saw HER, the Goddess whom I serve. I am one of the few in our order who she has let see her face more than the first time we are initiated and sanctified. Her face was a mixture of emotions as she stared at the figure which had it's back to me. But I could tell that she was far from happy.”
Tele stands and gestures for him to stay seated and to continue. As he speaks she walks to a cabinet and opened it, removing a bottle that held clear golden liquid and two glasses. It was the healing miruvor left by the Maia Eonwë. Returning to the chair she set the items on the table. Artemus continued his story as she carried out this task.
“ Meilikki turned and looked at the other Artemus, her mouth opening to speak to him. As she did, the dark figure took a threatening step towards her, while the second Artemus seemed to turn within himself.. the druid half turning look at Meilikki and listen, the shadow half turning it's back on her. Now the second Artemus was a grotesque version of what it had been, the two faces coming out of the front and back of one head, body twisted monstrously.” His voice came out as a strangled gasp. It was obvious to Tele he was very troubled by this. She nods again.
“Finally I could take no more of what I was seeing and I screamed ‘What madness is this?’ but none of the three figures turned to look at me, as if I was an unknown observer. I clamped my head over my ears and shut my eyes, trying to force the image from my mind and their voices from my ears...but nothing helped...they continued on, their words a maddening symphony.” He held his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sound that roared in his head. “Louder they grew till a deep blackness. This is where I wake, every night screaming.”
At this Tele felt the terror of her own dreams, she pushed it out of her mind as Artemus reached for the bottle trying to fill the second glass, his hand shaking so badly he could not fill the glass. Tele reached over and gently took the bottle from him and fills it halfway so he would not spill it. He lifts the glass and raises it to his lips.
“But yes...as you asked earlier...I have come here to learn the meaning of this dream.....for it does trouble me deeply.”
For a moment Tele is silent digesting what Artemus described to her.
“I am not a seer, but I can discern this.” She said. “There is a part of you that you do not wish to know. We all have a dark side; this one threatens to engulf you. Is this not so? I know of dark sides taking a life of their own. What do you fear Artemus Kurgen?”
He huddled on the couch. “I fear nothing, but myself. And what I am capable of doing.”
She studied him again and says, “Drink again, it will help.” Pours a small amount in her own glass and drinks it. She felt the warmth of the cordial in her stomach. It did calm her frayed nerves. He did not pick up his glass but the look on his face turns strange.
“Though I find it odd, since these dreams came, the only thoughts that seemed to bring any comfort is that of my daughter as well as my mother, though I hardly remember her.” His face softens at the thought.
“Artemus, I do not know more than this. You must face this dark side or it will destroy you. I can see how you’ve struggled with this. As for your mother, she is with you always, this I can see.” She gestures to his glass. “Please drink again, it will not harm you. It is miruvor. It will lend strength. Since you and the others rescued me from Vanion's keep.. I too have been plagued with nightmares. Did these dreams start then?”
He shook his head slowly. “Nae, they didst come later then tha'. Ah ken not what brought them, but I have a few ideas.. none of which Ah care to speak of.” Artemus starts at the change of his voice. Tele sat up and stared at him.
“I have no idea where that came from." He said, bewildered. “I think it best I stay here this night, though I am sure one night will be the end of this problem.” He nodded to Teleperien, “But I thank you for the offer though I have done little to warrant this, my actions in the arena's would give others pause to consider such a course. But I will do anything within my power to repay your kindness.... Anything.”
He lifted the glass to his lips his hand still shaking badly. She felt a wave of compassion. She leaned forward and laid her slender hand on his to send a healing energy, more out of instinct than anything else. The surge of energy, suddenly her mind collides with a wall, pain shot through her. She recoiled as if burned.
“It is fighting.” Tele said with alarm. Artemus jumps, eyes wide as he looked from his hand to her. “What did you jus…”
“My intent was to send you strength. There is block, I felt it.”
“A...a block ye say?” Artemus replied in that strange voice again. ”Well Ah can assure ye it's nothin' of mine own makins...”
Tele felt a cold shudder rush through her, she narrowed her eyes, it was obvious she was not talking to the Druid she knew. “Who are you?” It was a command, not to be denied.
“I be whom I said I was, Tele...tis me Artemus.. whom else do ye espect' to have before ye? I swear to ye, there be no trickery here. Your Majesty...I'll swear by any oath on any seal you desire...I speak true...” The voice came from Artemus, he huddled on the couch as if terribly cold. Tele pressed him.
“I do not need an oath. But I do require this. An answer. What do you want? Out with it.” Her voice hard, anger rose in her chest as she spoke. Artemus held his head with his hands, slid off the couch and onto his knees. His robes writhed like serpents around him when a black cloud billowed from his body. It formed a twisted image over his huddled form. A black cloudy hand pointed at the queen.
“This boy is mine to control...you will not interfere else I will bring everything you hold dear into the underworld. His fight is with me, and me alone. You will not aid him in any way...that is what -I- want!” The words reverberated in her office. Tele leapt to her feet, her own hand pointing. With both hands pointing to each other a black tendril wrapped around Tele’s arm. Tele lurched but maintained her balance.
“Get out.” Teleperien growled then shouted, “Guards!”
“You do not command me...I do as I wish!” The cloud claimed the body again, disappearing, leaving Artemus on the floor, unconscious. At once the door slams open the four elves appear. The black cloud swirled in her, she forced herself to focus. She leaned over him and prodded him. “Awake.”
He did not stir his skin as cold as the queen’s. Tele straightened. “Take him to the guest quarters. Do not leave his room unguarded.” She watched as the elves picked up his limp body and removed him from the room. She attempted to send a mental image where he was.. but another wave of black cloud stayed her. Outside, in the dark of the night a violent storm rolled in, lightening flashed across swirling clouds followed by a deafening clap of thunder. Rain fell in sheets against the window of Tele’s study.
She resisted no longer, the long fight, her broken soul held little strength. She closed her eyes as the cold now held her, skin pale, slightly blue. When she opened her eyes, they were no longer the sea grey, but totally black. An evil smile twisted her face.
What Vanion wanted to accomplish was finished by the druid. The taint was now complete.
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