Through the Dawn & The Soul's Measure

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[273] Nymaya: Through the Dawn
Fri Apr 30 15:15:13 2010
To: New_Thalos ( Necrucifer Imm RP ) All
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She didn't need her swords today as she glowered at the straw-filled dummy before her. Her knuckles, which she had unwisely left unwrapped, were scratched and torn by the material of the dummy and sweat ran its course down her coiled body.

Her own blood riddled the tightly packed straw contraption but she had long since become numb to the pain though no matter what she did, she could not alleviate the frustrated throb at her temples. She had taken pains to study the veining that scarred her now, but one of the 'gifts' she had received for her troubles within the infernal realm, but had discovered only that when pain struck her there, it simply could not be lifted.

She hit the dummy again, a quick series of solid jabs that sent jarring pain up through her arms into her shoulders, reminding her that no matter how well she had been trained - if she didn't loosen up, she could cause herself an injury. She almost didn't care but for the sake of herself, she managed to step back and shake out the tension that kept threading itself back into her shoulders and spine.

Who the hell did she think she was?

Her jaw clenched on her own silent rebuke. Throughout the night and now, into the dawn, she had been mentally flogging herself. The question she didn't know how to answer sent her in a dangerous flurry back at the straw-filled sack. She hit it then until she was gasping and only when she came to the realization that she had drained herself unto pure exhaustion did she step away.

Blood dripped freely - from the marks of her nails dug into her palms and from the wounded flesh along every inch of the back of her hands.

A strange, alien kind of defeat drew her into the corner where she had left her armor in an uncommon haphazard pile, where she sank down. She drew her knees up, resting her forearms across each, and bowed her head over her harsh shuddering breaths.

Silence followed after a time. A thing that blessedly encompassed even her thoughts. And with that same sense of defeat draining even the stress from her, she leaned her head back against the wooden wall of the stall...

...and opened her mouth to release a single gasp of terror.

No further sound escaped her as the shadowy, emaciated fingers of the creature reached down to grasp her temples. The pain that erupted then was breath-taking and every muscle in her body locked up. Even her throat constricted so hard she couldn't breathe, even if she'd tried.

I could bathe and be content in your self-castigation upon this plane of existence, elfling. It goaded, its demonic whisper carrying the unholy scent of sulfur and blood. But I think it will be just as sweet when you join us.

The pain lessened then, leaving her panting with the remnants of agony, a fine tremble infusing her. She was trapped by its nightmarish gaze even then but mistakenly thought that it was over - until it started to laugh.

And she began to scream.

"Wali? Wali!"

She awoke with a ragged cry that rebounded off the walls of the stall, the worried hands of soldiers and guards alike holding her back. It took her only a moment to blink the fog of the nightmare away at which point, she was beset with embarrassment.

There was no way to gracefully extricate herself from this so she simply nodded to their urgent need to know if she was alright. When she wiped at her mouth and saw the blood there, she better understood what their worry had been about. Gathering up her discarded armor and weapons, and what was left of her dignity, she departed with an agreement to see a cleric.

She knew it was going to be a long day.

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[253] Nymaya: The Soul's Measure
Sun Apr 18 03:56:31 2010
To: New_Thalos Dar'shin ( RP Necrucifer Imm Religion ) Shalonesti_Kingdom
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She tried to sleep - but could not. 

She tried to meditate - and failed. 

The night was calm and cool, not uncomfortable within the palace, and the strange shading of the black moon cast itself through the thick pillars that lined the hallways, strung with thin lace and silk curtains. 

The breeze was humid this night with the scent of the sea and jasmine and as she moved with slow, thoughtful ease along the pathways of the sprawling elegant New Thalosian palace, she found herself honestly shying away from what had been reawakened in her. 

It was too much to hope for. 

Too much to hope that the terrible rift in her soul could be mended.  It had been there so long... 

The gardeners were gone when she entered the center of the courtyard, sent back to the servant's quarters to rest, and in the reigning silence the soft bubble and churn of the natural brook was almost loud. 

Almost.. 

She was not comfortable with lowering her guard.  Not even in the midst of a protected palace, full of guards, but she did then.  Bowing her head, she let fall her silver hair and closed her blue eyes to the crystal glimmer of the water below her. 

The exhale she released was so heavy.  Filled with all the ages of loss, anger, loneliness and despair she had managed to drag herself through.  It was a wonder to her, as she let her mind skim over the past, how she had managed to maintain any aspects of who she had been. 

If it had been within Shalonesti's purview to destroy her - to tear down all that she had been, all that they had created in her - well, she imagined they had done their job.  Four Speakers later and the pain was still so acute.  She couldn't prevent the black thought, not with the memory of the past so strong upon her this night. 

..my worth can be weighed with grains of sand..

The whisper-soft resonant sound of her sword's blade slipping from its sheath filled the large but close space as her own words breathed insidiously back at her, the folded elven steel shimmering even in the false light of the black moon.  She didn't feel herself sink down upon the soft grass until her knees touched the spongy surface but in the deep dark of the night, she found herself beseeching answers of the deceased.  Of her past.

"Necrucifier" She breathed finally, her finger tips passing lightly over the runes etched along the length of the blade while her mind went over their fervent meaning.  "Lend Your harrowed servant guidance."

...and unbidden, she heard it again.  The disturbing, painful dissonance. The tainted sound mocked everything that had once been pure in her.  It was strangely, wholly, fitting.  She didn't try to subdue the frustrated anger that arose beside it, she just sat there, listening to it as it breathed through the blade in her grasp.  She could feel madness there, could imagine slipping her fingers through its tainted essence and knew it would be so easy to embrace.  She had been walking that precarious edge for a very long time now. 

She began to draw back into the proverbial shell then and lifting her blade  before her now flinty gaze, she thought of the measure of her soul. It was too much to hope for. But into the stillness that fell about her like a  deathly pall, she recalled the Sultan's answer.

...And enough sand can kill.