The Line

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[281] Nymaya: The Line
Sat May 29 14:30:58 2010
To: New_Thalos All Keylan ( Reklah ) ( RP )
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The hours before dawn always seemed darkest and within the desert, oft held a bitter chill.

They were hours she had come to enjoy, though there was a lament to be found in them as her gaze trained southward, toward a black Keep that contained many of the answers she sought alongside many more questions yet.

Her sword drew a slow half circle in the sand at her feet as her dark blue gaze angled down. She could feel something coming, in the shadows that passed before the face of the black moon. In the wind that ran ethereal fingers through her long silver hair and whispered incomprehensible things within her ears.

She felt it ring true down into the depths of her soul - and lifted her gaze beneath long lashes to mark the heady presence that stepped into the sword circle.

She'd have known him anywhere, in any form, in any reincarnation. From the black hair that hung to his shoulders through which, her fingers had run time and again; the brown eyes - now black with intent - that had captivated her so completely, to the lips that had uttered portents to change a world within.

He stood opposite her, a long black blade grasped in one hand, a shield in the other. His armor was tarnished, as if it had withstood the flames of Hell but carried the scars even as he did.

There was nothing in what she saw now within his gaze that suggested the man she knew remained.

"Does the Abyss still have you?" She breathed, her voice a ghostly thing. As if she'd already crossed over that precarious line.

No. Came his answer and one black boot took a step closer, angling into a stance she'd seen him take before.

She knew she'd die if this happened - here and now. She was not his match. She wouldn't back down though, and she knew he knew that.

It has you.

And he took another step closer to the line that kept them apart. The wind arose then, lifting about them both as his eyes narrowed, promising so many more things worse than death.

The whisper in the wind breathed otherwise though.

And she awoke with a gasp so violent and deep that white spots burst before her nearly sightless eyes, her lithe form arching slightly from the bed in the throes of the nightmare.

The first hand that touched her shoulder broke with a clear resounding snap as her own hand shot out in response, dropping the young man to his knees with a cry of pain. The second about died as her left fist connected solidly along a specific point upon his throat, nearly crushing the airway, when he tried to intervene.

"Nymaya."

The voice was familiar, threading power and command with elegant ease, and she found herself blinking back unto full awareness. She still had the broken wrist of the first apprentice in her grasp while he writhed and the second had collapsed, blood dripping from his mouth, hands unconsciously clinging to his throat.

This wasn't the first time she had injured those attempting to rouse her from ill rest but as she looked upon them, she felt a moment of intense, black rage that they still lived - followed by profound embarrassment that she had lost control and injured the hapless fools. Even in a warded room.

What was she destined to become if she could not contain herself?

When her gaze finally settled upon the robed form of her brother standing in the archway, she could barely bring herself to believe that she saw concern. It was easier to handle his mockery and harsh sense of humor. She turned away from what she saw in his eyes as she released the apprentice with a mumbled apology and strode to the southern window. She had no idea if her
dreams were supposed to mean anything beyond what they tended to stand for in the moment, but what remained was never simple to navigate.