Thrennoadae’s storming out left Kaidric a bit rattled. He expected her to beg him, after all, she needed him to save her lover’s life. She had not closed the cottage door behind her, and he calmly walked to it. As he approached he heard a familiar voice “hello brother”. The voice was followed immediately with pain, several men stormed into the cottage, knocking Kaidric back. Two men grabbed the cleric by the arms and slammed him against the far wall. In the shock he did not notice a bracer being clamped to his wrist. Almost as quickly as he was slammed back, he felt a sharp pain in his gut as a third man punched him. The other two forced Kaidric to the floor and the three proceeded to kick at him, as he tried to curl up into a protective ball. The men wore iron tipped boots, and the repeated blows to Kaidric’s head and chest caused him to nearly lose consciousness.


“That’s enough.” The voice spoke again, and Kaidric could make out the sound of the door closing behind him. The voice was now easily recongnizable. It spoke calmly, but with a clear and simple authority. It was the voice of Kaidric’s half-brother Rynnthorn. Rynnthorn, a few year’s Predian’s elder, had been the head of the Cross estate since the death of their father. He was a cunning and vile noble, armsman by trade but career politician.


Hearing Rynnthorn’s command, the men ceased their assault on Kaidric. Kaidric’s eyes strained to focus through the overwhelming pain he was feeling. Though his vision was blurred, he could make out six men. The three who had been beating on him had taken positions close to his body, arms crossed as if guarding him. A fourth man carried a chair and placed it in front of Kaidric, a few feet away. Rynnthorn softly stepped to the chair and took a seat, and the final thug stood behind him.


Rynnthorn made a hand gesture that Kaidric could not make out. It was followed by footsteps and the opening and closing of a door. Kaidric deduced that Rynnthorn had ordered one of his men to stand guard outside.


“So tell me Kaidric, was she all that I imagine?” Rynnthorn spoke with a smirk, clearly inquiring about Kaidric’s time with Thrennoadae. “On second thought, don’t tell me. I’ll find out myself in time.”


The look on Kaidric’s face was of confusion, and the cleric strained to speak but was cut off. “You really thought I wouldn’t know? Little happens in this realm without my knowledge. Especially nothing that occurs within these walls. This is my cottage, after all.”


Rynnthorn gave a nod to one of his guards. The guard stepped in front of Kaidric, and then stomped down on the cleric’s hand. With Kaidric’s hand pinned beneath his boot, the large man grinded his heel into it, crushing it into the wooden floor. Kaidric cried out in pain, a shriek that would have turned the stomachs of ordinary men.


After what seemed like an eternity, the man raised his boot and allowed the hand to be free. Kaidric lifted his now mangled hand with his good one. He attempted to summon his healing powers but nothing happened. The bracer on his wrist glowed briefly and then stopped.


Rynnthorn laughed. “Your powers will work again when I allow them to. And the pain you feel is as good as you will ever feel again, if you do not do as I say.”


“What do you want?”


“Predian and I have never been close, Kaidric. He doesn’t approve of my methods or my politics, but he is my brother and he will not die. If it’s your life required to save his, so be it.”


Rynnthorn paused and reflected a moment. “You know, your mother gave up a good fight before I killed her. She was the first life I ever took. Oh, I didn’t enjoy it, but she left me no choice. She was trying to blackmail me, threatening to ruin the family name. If the knowledge of my father’s affair with a servant were released, we’d have been ruined. She had to die.” Rynnthorn continued, “I never knew that you existed. I never thought to look. Had I, you’d not be here today. And yet, here you are.”


“I will not save Predian.” Kaidric spoke, his voice shaking from the pain.


“You will, I’ve no doubt of that.” Rynnthorn nodded again to one of his guards. Kaidric was held down and his head held back. One man poured a foul liquid down Kaidric’s throat while a third man forced him to swallow. Kaidric choked down the liquid, unable to spit it out. “For the next day or so, you’ll do anything I tell you; once that drug sets in.”


Rynnthorn laughed out loud, “I didn’t need to cause you all this pain, but I had no choice. I wanted her first.” With that, Rynnthorn rose up from his chair and motioned for his men to leave the cottage. He was half out the door himself when he turned again to look at his brother, “go to Dartel’s home, Kaidric. Do what the cabalist asks of you. I’ll be watching.”

The ebil and mean genes skipped Predian, obviously.


He got the stupid ones.


<giggles and runs away>

heheh, good one Wolfie.


Predian is probably evil too, just not compared to the two gimps he calls brothers.

Thank you!!!


<goes back to read it now>

The trip to Castle Myrddin in Snowdownia was quick and uneventful in itself. Dartel had obviously been in the relic room for quite some time when the others arrived. Thrennoadae entered first with Kaidric leaning heavily upon her, Rharan just steps behind her, a large hammer strapped across his back and Predian draped in his powerful arms. Dartel glanced up from his preparations a moment, pointing to the corner of the room, “Wait there and tread not on the chalk runes and symbols.” They all shuffled into the corner of the room Dartel indicated and watched with extreme curiosity as Dartel went about the painstakingly detailed preparations, their faces screwed up with a mixture of shock, revulsion, wonderment and awe.


The windows had been draped with black velvet, denying even the strongest rays of sunlight entrance. Despite this, the room was well-lit due to the hundreds of candles burning throughout it. The candles outlined a large circle in the middle of the room, the shafts of the candles alternating pure white and pitch black. Beneath the flickering light were visible many arcane runes drawn in exquisite detail upon the floor. A putrid odor hung about the room, seemingly emanating from the Cauldron of Dagda.


Thrennoadae glanced around the room, then at her companions, her face showing the lines of worry etched about her eyes and the corners of her mouth. She recognized a few of the symbols from her days long ago in Hibernia, and those were only vague memories for she had seen them but once because it was forbidden to draw them for any reasons. She closed her eyes and searched her memories, running back through her lessons of old, trying to recall anything about them, but the only thing she recalled was her instructor’s dire warning, “Death nae takes lightly those who tread upon him.” While Thrennoadae never understood those words, they filled her with more than a bit of trepidation now. She continued scanning the floor and noticed a few runes of Norse mythology, while having no insight as to their meaning, she could begin to guess. There were many other intricate drawings upon the floor, but none that she could identify. Rharan stood motionless, his face devoid of emotion as he stared past the unconscious friend in his arms and focused intently on Dartel. Kaidric sat in the corner of the room, his fingers scratching alternate wrists as the itch of full healing set in upon him, his eyes sunken back in their sockets as he prepared to give his life over once more.


Dartel rose slowly, nodding his satisfaction as he turned a complete circle. “The preparations are now complete, my designs are flawless.” Dartel crept carefully on the balls of his feet as he moved outside the circle to the corner opposite the group. He bent low and picked up two robes from the floor, one pure white, the other dark as infinite night. He draped one robe across each forearm and walked to stand before Kaidric. “You, Kaidric, wear the white robes. You will be Predian’s guide from the hand of Death this day.” Dartel said before turning to Rharan, “When both are robed, lay Predian to the right of the Cauldron, head near the large black candle. Kaidric will lie on the other side, his head beneath the white candle. I cannot stress enough, do not upset the chalk drawings.” Dartel waited for Kaidric to pull his robe from his forearm before thrusting the black robe toward Thrennoadae. Hesitantly, she clasped her fingers around the robe and pulled it from his arm. Dartel stepped back behind Rharan and unbuckled the hammer from his back. “Ah, Thor’s Hammer, well done Rharan. The flesh of the Legion arrived by messenger nearly an hour before your arrival.” Rharan nodded and sighed, “Never thought I would say this, but thank God for the Guild of Shadows. They were instrumental in the borrowing of the Hammer for a short time.”


Rharan held Predian upright as Thrennoadae took to disrobing him and dressing him in his ceremonial black robe. Kaidric moved slowly as he redressed himself, his motions slow and deliberate as he detached himself from the moment, from all moments, tried to transcend his mortal coil.


Dartel took Thor’s Hammer and pressed it roughly into the Cauldron, grinding the contents into a thick paste as the Cauldron of Dagda glowed fiercely with an eerie purple hue. He chanted in an ancient tongue, long forgotten to most men as he prepared the ingredients. Both the subjects properly garbed, Rharan aided by placing both men properly within the circle at their appointed locations.


Predian lie still, his flesh cool and pale as his chest rose with each shallow breath. No fits of coughing came to him at this point, his very life teetering dangerously at the cliff of oblivion. Kaidric lie with his eyes closed, hands folded across his lower abdomen as he made his peace God.


Dartel turned to Thrennoadae and Rharan, his voice low and commanding, “The time has come. Close the door and remain silent. Speaking or breaking the sanctity of the circle will kill us all, remain at the door or be gone with you now.” Thrennoadae and Rharan nodded solemnly and remained silent, both backing up a few steps closer to the doorway as Rharan reached back and pulled shit the heavy oaken door.


Dartel turned back and thrust both hands into the Cauldron, drawing forth a cupped handful of the vile contents as he went first to Kaidric. He knelt beside the white-robed man and brought his hands to his lips, the contents dripping onto Kaidric’s lips and running into his mouth as he swallowed and held back the urge to wretch. Kaidric stiffened sharply as he felt the liquid burn its way down into his stomach, sure that it had destroyed each part of his throat on the way down. Dartel rushed to Predian and likewise dripped the substance onto his lips and into his mouth. Much like Kaidric, Predian’s body went completely rigid, his eyes snapping wide open as he seemed to scream in silence. Thrennoadae stepped forward, her heart screaming to her to end this unholy ceremony, but Rharan stopped her by grabbing her arm and pulling her back and shaking his head, “This is in Dartel’s hands now Threnn.”


Dartel watched with morbid curiosity as his potion worked its wicked effects upon each man. He watched as their bodies died completely from the taste of dragon’s blood, a substance bane to the mortal palette. He waited for the moment of the next effect, eager more to justify his greatness in his own mind than for the lives of his subjects. Dartel smiled broadly as he began to see both men’s spirits spill forth from their lips. “Yes, yes” he mumbled, “the succubus is drawing their spirits as I predicted.” Rharan said a silent prayer and Thrennoadae felt the tears stream down her cheeks as both Predian’s and Kaidric’s very souls seeped from their mouths and hovered above their bodies, rising toward the ceiling. Each mans’ spirit a light shade of blue that flickered to white, vaguely resembling a human form as they floated up.


“Now...now” Dartel seemed to command in a low voice. Both bodies lurched furiously as they inhaled deeply once, then lie back to rest, their chests rising slowly in unison, very slowly, but alive nonetheless. “The flesh of Legion will not allow your bodies to die.” Both spirits stopped immediately as their bodies came to life beneath them and began to hover back to them, drawn inexplicably back to the land of the living. “NO!” Dartel screamed, “First to the light, it will cleanse you Predian, then you must draw him back Kaidric.” Dartel watched, his un-blinking eyes narrowed as he inhaled with shallow-breathed excitement. Predian’s spirit rose toward the ceiling, Kaidric’s following, but remaining a short distance behind. A blinding flash erupted in the room as Predian’s spirit touched the ceiling, his essence shining brighter than anything witnessed by those present, but not painful to the eye. Thrennoadae wept openly as she witnessed the beauty and purity of Predian’s true, untainted soul.


Kaidric, apathetic to everything began to follow Predian to the light, desiring the end, needing the end, coveting it as he floated up to join his half-brother. Predian’s spirit, completely whole saw deep into his brother’s essence, knew his intentions and determined that he would save Kaidric after he too was cleansed by the Holy light. Dartel arched his head to the side as he watched Predian’s essence flare brightly, seemingly beckoning Kaidric’s spirit to rise as well. “You cannot, must not” he screamed, “I prepared for but one affront to Death.”


The moment Kaidric’s essence contacted the light and the Holy explosion occurred, it was drown out by blackness deeper than anything imaginable. A darkness so deep it weighed upon the souls of all present took the room. The only thing remaining visible were the souls of Predian and Kaidric floating nearly 6 feet above the floor before a specter of Death itself flashed into existence. Dartel felt his cold stare upon every inch of his body as though it were pressing through him. Death hovered before them in all his infinite glory and wickedness. A cloak of night wavered behind him on a gale force wind that stunk of death and decay, his skeletal figure mostly hidden beneath a robe that glimmered with screaming, distorted souls of the Fallen trapped within them. The skeletal jaw moved, but the words issued forth not by true sound, only into the minds of all present. “Foolish mortals. I am Death, you shall learn that in its truest measure shortly, your flesh, your blood will be my playthings," the spirit chided.


Dartel blanched as he gazed upon his end, “But...but, you should be powerless here.”


The specter laughed then, the sound nearly bringing blood to all their ears as it shrieked horribly through their heads. “You prepared well Cabalist, this I will grant you, but that hammer is fit for salvaging, not a God, thus your ceremony was open to my eyes.”


Death raised his mighty scythe and took aim upon the two stranded souls, “I shall take these two first and let you witness their destruction.” Death’s scythe whistled toward Predian and Kaidric, the very fabric of creation being torn in its wake as it bore down upon them. Thrennoadae screamed out as the scythe tore through both their souls, rending them in half, their light flickering and fading instantly. Rharan called out a prayer to God stepped forward, futilely believing his ability to aid in some form.


Dartel wasted not a moment as he clapped his hands together sharply, the crack of flesh on flesh echoing in the room as he screamed out in defiance of Death. Dartel screamed out, his vocal cords nearly snapping with the strain, “I DENY YOU THIS” as he sent forth his life essence to the two souls. A brilliant flash of light erupted in the room, a cataclysmic explosion sending everyone into darkness as the abyss swallowed them.


Thrennoadae was the first to wake, her eyes fluttering lightly open as she glanced around, adjusting to the light spilling in through the destroyed windows. Dartel lie near death, blood trickling slowly about the corner of his mouth. Rharan lie unconscious, but in good health, against the door, his tongue protruding slightly through his mouth which lie agape. Thrennoadae called forth her healing powers quickly upon Dartel and made sure he was stable before turning her attention to Predian and Kaidric, both men lie still and peaceful as they did before the ceremony. She sat down and burst into sobs as she saw Predian’s chest laid still, not a breath passing his neither lips nor Kaidric’s.


“Pred, dear Pred” she called out, “why?”


“Why what?” Predian’s voice answered weakly.


Thrennoadae blanched and nearly fainted when she realized it had come from Kaidric’s mouth.

Wow

 

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Predian is the puppet master.


Good show old boy (Dartel that is).

Dartel one ups me again! Nice writing you insane cabbie.

<picks her jaw up off the floor> Again, this thread amazes me. You all have done a wonderful job with it. Pred and Dartel, wonderful. More please.

 

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Told ya it was worth waiting for