A Warrior's Words: The Second Saga

[Noa]

Korg Ironhand   
Blue Ribboned Barbarian
Posts: 194
(8/8/02 1:05 am)
Reply   A Warrior's Words: The Second Saga
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The day started dreary. The rain fell, as if to let a bad mood settle.

I awoke, ready to leave the temporary shelter of the bridge tower at the Northern Karanas.

I had to keep moving. I knew that. My visit with his kin had done what I had wanted, more than I hoped. Little Rhaeya did not accuse me as he thought she would.

A small tear came to me at that very thought. So much more than I had hoped for. I spent two full days with my kin. As long as I could allow. The majority of that time was spent getting to know Rhaeya. She was so beautiful. Quea would take to her without hesitation. She liked dolls. I took what skill I had in tailoring, adding my fletching, and made a little thing of cloth, bundled together with thread from my fletching kit. I was surprised it turned out as good as it did. Not the best thing, but not the worst, either. It was the small gift I could give her while I was there. She took hold of it like it was a figurine fit for royalty. I was sure she did it to save me some embarrassment.

But, in the end, I had to leave. With regret, but still. I was now hunted. And with only a vague idea of by who. But while I kept moving from what was behind, I had to search ahead, for what was before me. Quea was somewhere out there. I had to find her, and share with her the events of my life. And I was also concerned. At some point, I felt, Zek would try to harm her. The warning of the Twins were vague, but they felt it was important enough to make the threat known.

Raising, and fighting off the dreariness of the rain, I tried to grin as I made his way to the guildhouse.

I arrived, opening the door, and shaking off the rain from my cloak. I looked up, but instead of seeing smiling faces, nearly to a one of them, all faces were turned from me. Puzzled, I pulled on the cord of the cloak, and made to hang it on a peg near the door. "Why the long faces, family?"

It was Dondi, a fellow I rarely was able to associate with, that walked to me and took me aside a bit. The others took a pitied look, and began whispers, softly and apprehensively.

Dondi walked me out into the front of the house, and waited for me to look at him, to give him my full attention. After the hesitation of a heartbeat, he spoke.

"I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, friend. But..." He looked up at my face, with a conviction of a friend. "Quea and Mickolas have wedded."

I blinked. The words, I understood. But the concept. It eluded me. "What?"

Dondi continued watching me. "Mickolas was .. proudly announcing their marriage. We were shocked, as well. He and she w...." He continued talking, but my mind was elsewhere. It just did not fit, this puzzle for my mind. What was this foolishness? What daft words was this fellow saying?

"I, too, know the hurt of a woman's rejection. I am sorry." He looked at me like he meant the words. I, on the other hand, would have nothing of it.

"What is this idiocy you speak?" Heat from this riddle was coming into my voice. I did not like this game. "What are you saying?" I spied movement through the window. A few have stood and were making their way to the door.

"Speak! Why would you say such things?" The door opened, and some of my family began to try and tell me things I could not begin to fathom. This was true? This happened to the shock of all?

I threw a hand off of my shoulder with a violent shrug, not knowing or caring who's it was. "You speak idly! You speak insanity! What is the matter with you all?!" I stepped away as another tried to reach me, and I glared at the next. They stood, simply watching me at that point. "You've all gone mad! Bah! I will address this with her personally, and show you your foolishness!" I stormed off into the rain, with one goal in mind.

I ran to the one place I knew she would be eventually. I pushed back the visions of my dream. The visions of her home empty. In the rain, without my cloak, I ran to the nearest spire. The Dreadlands would get me there. I would have my answers then.

Between the guildhouse and that place, a doubt began to enter my mind. The faces all looked sincere. I tried to push it all to the back, but the fear began to blossom, to brood. I wanted nothing more than to put this thing to rest, before I fully accepted it. But, it was too late. I was now in the middle of denial and loss.

I did not make it to the Northern Karanan spire. She stood at the rings I was passing. She stood watching me as I approached. I slowed to a stop, standing in front of you, looking down at her, angry.

She stood before me, so frail. So afraid. Not with open arms. Not with a smile.

"What is this I am hearing?" She simply stood before me, watching me.

I bellowed at her. "WELL??"

"Mickolas and I are married."

For the space of a moment, I stood there, And then everything slumped inside of me, and I simply followed suit and slumped to the ground on my knees. I could only whisper. "... no."

"He and I have married. And we will be happy together. He is my husband. We..." More words came, but for a moment, I could only exist, and that not even well.

I broke in on her, with a look of disbelief. "You cannot be serious. How long has this been?" But the only word that mattered followed in an almost whimpered tone. "Why?"

She straightened her back, and looked at me with defiance. If you are displeased, then strike me dead. But do not strike at him."

Anger found it's way back into my voice. "What idiocy is this, woman? My hand will never strike you. You ask the opposite of what I would do."

"He is my husband. I will defend him with every breath I have."

"Every time you speak that word for him, it cuts even more!" I stood bristling with pain.

She repeated the words to me. "He is my husband. We love each other now."

"When did this happen?!" I knew it was a blatant lie. No one could look at me the way she had done all our days together, and then turn in the span of a heartbeat. I was furious at the lie. I spat the next words out. "When did you ever love him??"

At this she flinched, and some part of her receeded at the question. She offered as steady a reply as she could. "I will learn to love him."

I could not believe the words I was hearing. "Will you listen to yourself?"

She finally caved and turned her face from me. But, with more a resignation than anything, she turned herself back. "Whatever will be, I have made a vow, now. I am married to him. Will you have me forsake that?"

I was brought to nothing at these words. We simply looked to each other. We were a space of five feet from each other, and it might as well have been the world.

She moved over and sat down in front of me. Reaching out hers, she bade me to take her hand. I did, not knowing what she wanted. Not knowing where the action would lead. It was so heartwrenching different.

It was now not my hand to hold.

With a wave of her arm, we blinked.

The snow was just beginning to fall. The brilliant red leaves of the hidden valley of the Dreadlands held absolutely no life in my eyes. I was only focused on Quea, as she began to make her way up the slopes, to a private place, out of the wind and the weather.

She stopped, and turned toward me, her eyes pleading something that I could not recognize. With eyes asking for what I did not know, she spoke. "Korg. Watch me closely." She began to lay aside the jewelry, the the heavy armor. The scimitar I had gave her she put to her immediate right of her. She stripped to nothing but her dress. As she was near finished, her hand caught something she kept close to her, underneath her left arm, in a small place tucked away. She let it go. Finally done, she looked up at me, fear in her expression. She took the sleeve, and moved it off of her shoulder.

"Would you make love to a married woman?"

I would have given her the whole of the world. Brought the very moon down and bound it onto a ring. I would have crossed all the dangers of this existence to love her. To save her. To keep her.

".........no."

Until she was free of this bond somehow, I could not. She was now more his than she ever would be mine, unless some way to dispell the deed could be found.

What resolve she had vanished. And I saw why. She feared I would never love her again.

Now the world truly was between us.

"Then kill me. Please." She stood straight, and looked into my eyes as if she expected me to do her a blessed favor, and I would be heartless not to.

In response, I dropped my blades, one and then the other. I simply looked at her. "Never on all the world would I raise my hand to you."

I looked down to shake my head, to gather a breath before I continued.

"Then I must do it myself." I looked up quickly. She had her scimitar already in hand, and poised at her gullet.

I rushed to hold the blade. My strength could easily stop hers. All I needed was to catch it before the strike. My hand closed around just above the hilt. The blade was sharp, and it immediately slit into my fingers and thumb. But I held to it.

Blood ran from my hand.

It intermingled with hers.

She looked up to me with the shock of pain. I could only stare down into her blue eyes in agony. She began to fall, and I pulled the blade quickly from her and held her in one quick motion.

She sank into my arms, quiet. Only looking into my eyes. I could do nothing but blink tears.

"No, no. No, love. Stay with me. Please. I need you." Still no words. She smiled at me, some peace coming to her. "No. Please. No...." She reached into the fold under her left arm, and clutched something. "No. Don't go. Oh, please...."

Her face went ashen. Her breathing stopped. Her head rolled back. Her hand dropped.

Something red fell from her palm. A Lady's mantle. I remember the exact moment I gave her that, in Thurgadin, when we were first finding ourselves in love. It reminded me of the flower she gave me all that time back. The one I still held in my pack.

I looked back to her. My beautiful hobbit. I grimaced, and straightened her hair while I began to weep. I could only hold her gently. I was always trying to be gentle with her. And I loved to touch her hair. I held her, and pulled her close, into my chest, like she always liked. I rocked back and forth, whimpering at first. then weeping softly. Until I could not hold the grief in. Until it consumed me. I reared back, and with gut wrenching agony sceamed my sorrow into the world.

It was a long while until I came to myself. She was still in my arms. I laid here down, delirious with grief. I did not want to live. My whole reason for living was before me, and has gone on. In a stupor, I stood haggardly, almost stumbling over myself, finding my axe and sword.

"Kill me. Someone, please kill me." No one was there. No one heard me. I counted that as a mild inconvenience. I staggered off, looking for something to do the job.

I made my way down the slope, and up another. Then an afterthought came to me. I turned to see if my beloved would be alright, here in the snow. I looked where we lay. I saw in the distance the red of the blood in the snow, but I could not see the form. I must not be looking in the right place. She was surely where I had left her. I turned, focused on my own simple plan.

My whole reason for living was gone from me.



Edited by: Korg Ironhand   at: 8/12/02 1:09:51 am

[Noa]

Korg Ironhand   
Blue Ribboned Barbarian
Posts: 195
(8/8/02 1:16 am)
Reply   Re: A Warrior's Words: The Second Saga
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nothing would stand before me. The yeti. The spiders. The giants.

I simply asked them to kill me. I ran to them and swung my blades, still delirious.

Things that should have killed me fell all about me. Some by my blade, gutted and face down. Some were struck by searing lightning from the sky, or the earth opened up and took them down. Some simply fled in terror. I simply couldn't understand why they would not kill me. I must have swung my blade for more than half a day. Such an easy task. Why would the beasts not oblige?

In the end, I realized I was staring up into the sky, too exhausted and spent to do anything but stare. When I fell, I did not know. Even the faint hope that something would finally come along and devour me was distant. I had no more inside of me than I did out. I only stared.

After a time, the pain of remembrance returned, and I weeped with eyes wide open at the sky above me, until what small reserve I had was spent for that. The sky was dark. It was night. And then, somewhere in that, there was nothing.



Edited by: Korg Ironhand   at: 8/9/02 1:00:12 am

[Noa]

Korg Ironhand   
Blue Ribboned Barbarian
Posts: 200
(8/9/02 1:59 am)
Reply   Re: A Warrior's Words: The Second Saga
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I spent days wondering. I spent days trying to die.

I simply was not allowed to.

My mind could not fathom the mystery in this. I sought beasts that could surely do the job. Running so hard through the Dreadlands, running up to any beast that could rip my heart out of my chest. Every time, they died in some fashion. I even took to laying down my blades and opening my arms for their attack. Those either fell over dead on the very spot, or ran in freakish terror. Why?

It was clear the ones I swung my weapons into had a better chance of doing the job. At least they fought back, when the sky did not hurl lightning into them. I simply could not make one kill me.

It was like a mad, twisted game. I would give chase of my own will against the impossible foe, until I collapsed in a heap to the ground, spent of tears and energy. I would slumber until I could wake, and then rise again with agonizing pain in my joints, only to repeat the process.

The memory of Quea's corpse always brought back the searing, maddening pain that I could not live with. It was a thing I wanted ripped from my chest, a poision I could not get rid of without the help of an enemy. Death would release me. Death would take it away. I could not bare it, so strong it was.

I finally sat on my haunches one last time, and dropped my blades to the ground, weeping because I was once again helpless in my agony. Why couldn't they kill me? Why?

No light of reason crept into my mind. With every quiet moment I spent, the memory would return, and drive me again. There finally came a time when the reign of my madness left the entire view around me empty of any living creature but me. The rumor of my presence filled the lands, and I was left alone. When I realized this, I simply turned away, and made for another battlefield.

I cannot remember the spires that I took. Truly, all I remembered of the Hidden Valley was entering it, and the presence of her memory bore into me with such intensity, I remember screaming endlessly from a dry, parched throat when I looked in that direction. From then on, I floated from destination to distination.

At some point, while I huddled in some corner I do not remember where, waiting for the lights to flicker and send me off, I began to imagine her voice. It spoke to me, and I remember cringing like a bug waiting for the foot to fall. I could not take hearing that sweet voice. The sounding of it made me rock to and fro, lost in nothing but my own mind. Alone, with nothing but the voice of my lost Quea. The voice whispered unintellegible words to me, but one stood out as I heard it repeat over and over. Home.

I remember seeing from under my arm the feet of a crowd gathering, a menagerie of folk looking at me in astonishment. I heard words, of hollow offering of help, of some attempt at comfort, or enquiries. I simply sat, rocking to and fro with the voice in my head.

I found myself in the Lesser Faydark, seemingly floating through the mist of that dark forest, seeking horses with horns, white and ebony, seeking dark elves, and shadows, and other forms of darkness. It was all the same as before. Only the unicorn was spared, as it ran away time and again, out of my reach. The rest dropped before me, the same as always. I simply could not die.

I finally found myself standing, swaying like a tree in the wind, staring into nothing. My blades had frozen in my hand. I could not have let go of them if I tried. I had awoken again, but now there was just nothing left in me. No reserve strength. No reserve thought. I simply stood.

A presence. I felt the presence of someone. I turned only enough to see five souls watching me. Noises coming out of them, gutteral sounds I could not comprehend. Faces. I looked at faces. I recalled something of them. Something I could not pull to the front of my mind. One face. Fur. Pretty feline. I had always found that face lovely.

My mind focused. A name came. Tita. Jharin. Always such a lovely friend to me. Such lovely songs. Such pretty songs that soothe. That help you forget.

My mind snapped into a sudden rush of need. I staggered over to the Tita, reaching, pleading, begging.

"Tita! Please, Tita! Help me forget! Please! Help me forget!" I fell to my knees, holding to her clothes, and pulling her close. I needed her help so much. So desperately! " Oh, please, help me forget! Help me, please!"

My words began to run together, and I broke down, sobs wracking my weak body. I collapsed to the floor of where ever I was, the grass feeling cool on my face. I heard music, and the sweet voice of an angel singing. I felt it take me to another place. A softer place. A place where I could not think.

Where I could forget. Finally.

[Noa]

Korg Ironhand   
Blue Ribboned Barbarian
Posts: 201
(8/9/02 2:40 am)
Reply   Re: A Warrior's Words: The Second Saga
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I lay in the dream. I knew it for what is was every time now. But where this place was did not matter. I only lay there, my head in here lap. Erolissi's face looking down at me, as she stroked my hair and rocked me to and fro softly.

I asked no questions. Only lay there, as she made shushing sounds, and comforted me. On occasion, in that long, silent endless time, she made comment, in a hushed tone that spoke of the nighttime hours, when a mother or lover comforted their children, or lover. All was quiet around, save the gentle nighttime sounds from some open window I could not see off behind her. The sway of trees, gentle in the night air called in a hush. A peaceful hush that called for rest.

" You love strong, sweet barbarian. So strong." I heard something poured softly, and she reached a hand away, and brought it back with a gentle dripping of cool water onto my brow. She let the rest run into my hair, and ran her fingers through my locks, resuming the rocking.

" We could not leave you to your misery." She stroked the water again over my brow, and ran a silk smooth finger across my forehead, simply letting the effect bring peace. " And you would not heed our call in your loss. We had to do a great many things to keep you alive. The land of dread will not soon forget my brother's mark, to the rage of the Faceless. But that is a matter for another place. Not here. And it is good Tunare gave her blessing for our strength under her own roof, asking we only spare the good creatures."

She reaches again for the water, and applied it gingerly on my brow. Looking down at me, I saw something troubled her as she looked down at me. " You were becoming lost in your own mind." She spoke as a mother explaining a thing to her little one. It did not offend. It soothed. " We had to bring you back to others, sweet one. Alone, you would have destroyed yourself. You needed to be under a roof, and cared for. You wasted away until it you were close to death. You spent so much energy." At this remark, even she seemed surprised.

She began to soothe my temples, then. A thought of a lovely vah shir being called without words came to my mind, but it was a distant thought. It was all so distant, here. Only she and I, and the wind sighing in the trees out of the window. All else was a half sigh with no true wieght.

" Now you have other voices to hear. You will be alright." She looked down at me, with a face of sweet comfort for the soul. " And you will find all is not lost."

She let her gaze fall to some place near me, and continued to smooth my hair, and rock softly, while the wind sighed in the trees outside.

[Noa]

Korg Ironhand   
Blue Ribboned Barbarian
Posts: 218
(8/12/02 2:02 am)
Reply   Re: A Warrior's Words: The Second Saga
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I move by rote, now.

The daily things of life. The next battle. The next soul needing help. The next task asked of me. These things keep me from falling into that pit inside of me. The one left void by my beautiful hobbit.

I seek friends. So as not to be alone. Alone, I think too much. With friends, I keep myself occupied. I keep from dwelling too long.

The pain does not get easier. At times, it intensifies as if to kill me with grief. Those times, I charge headlong into a foe, and let the threat of their attacks distract me from the hole in my chest. These are the dangerous times. These are the times I need friends beside me. If it were just my life at stake, I may... slip.

I mourn when I try to sleep. I weep in the first moments that I wake. I try not to be alone.

I know my friends look at me with sideward glances when they think I am not paying attention. I am sure they wonder what can be done. They do the only thing they can do. Tolerate me in this state of misery I am in. I need them. Without them, I will not survive.

It is hard to stay away from taverns. I know what can happen if I find one, and sit myself on a stool. I don't think a place like Felwithe could handle it. And yet, I cannot bear the waking hours when I find a spare moment. I've often drank fast and hard to put myself down quickly.

If I could bury the memory in some way, I ... No, I still wouldn't. All I have left is the memory. I would as soon die as forget her. I am still unsure if that wouldn't be the best way.

I try to ignore the sweet voice on the wind I hear in the drifting trees. It is like trying to keep closed a wound that is torn open fresh with each passing hour. I cannot ignore it. I only resign myself to the knowledge of being warped in the mind. I suppose it is inevitable to reach such a place. I only wait to see if this disease of the mind will grow, or weaken its hold.

I only dream of half formed images. Nothing is clear, save one thing. I see her face and form in them. When I wake, I ask the Twins why they would not give me peace at least while I sleep. Take me to the Eastern Wastes. To the chamber. To the peaceful room with the trees sighing just outside the window. I hear no answer.

Am I still lost in my own mind? Am I truly out of the danger I faced those first few days, when I brinked insanity, trying to put myself out of my own misery?

No. I am not. If relief does not come soon, I fear all with me will be lost. I am no good now to anyone. The Twins. My friends. Not even Zek would find a use for me this way. I will end all this finding some quiet place...

Marr, help me. I do not want to live more than I do not want to die.

[Noa]

Korg Ironhand   
Blue Ribboned Barbarian
Posts: 251
(8/19/02 9:09 pm)
Reply   Re: A Warrior's Words: The Second Saga
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It has been long since I have written. So many things have come to past in such a short time.

The shadow in my soul has been lifted. My beloved has returned. I cannot put down what I cannot express. I only know that my very heart has come back to me.

As for the dark times, the time between her leaving and her returning, I will not put down. I will not look back on it. The darkness is too deep. I can only say a silent thanks to those who brought me out with hope. In truth, the one that I thank most is Bridh, of all people. I was on my way to find a quiet place in the Western Karanas, to die, when she stopped me and began to berate me for losing hope. She does not know it, but she held me until Bippin showed. And Bippin told me of Eliezer. It was Bippin who gave me hope, for the first time since that dark day in the Dreadlands. But, he would not have found me, if not for Bridh. None would have found me, until it was too late.

Eliezer and Kanina hold my eternal debt. No doubt, they would say they do not need it. But it is theirs, nonetheless. Nina will always have me at her call, from this day forward. If I hear she has a need, I will run to meet it.

Eliezer. I am a simple barbarian, but.... Well, perhaps not so simple, anymore... but I can see he is a mover of events. He is deep at work with something. I do not know what it is, nor just how large it is, but I will let him know, in some way, that my blade is his.

I awake today, of all places, in an elven home, in an elven outpost, by the deep sea. This is Quea's home. Where she is, my heart is. And that will never be a question. Ever. I am glad I was called by the Twins, and not simply one or the other. If I only served the Lightbringer, I would at some point worry if he would ask me to sacrifice some of my heart, my dedication, to him. But, in having seen The Queen, I can see she very much tells me to hold fast to my beloved. I am now Quea's protector, her shield, the defending soldier against the enemy that would do her harm. And I mean to fulfill that role with all of my strength, my heart, and my life.

I do not think I could serve one of them alone. I enjoy using what is in me to do good. I enjoy using what is in me to protect and love Quea. I would not want to be divided in those two.

Enough for today. The dream came again, last night. I saw no faces, this time. Only heard the voices. I am to called to Freeport, to find what I can do there in the service of the Twins. They have not chosen me as theirs to simply settle myself into a room.