Author Topic: A Lorn, Lone Creetur  (Read 196 times)

Iridni Ren

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A Lorn, Lone Creetur
« on: May 26, 2018, 11:35:07 PM »

Anger.

It was so unjust...what had happened. She struggled, clawing and digging her way out of the foetid ground where they had tossed her water-soaked body. She must breathe, but above all...Briga. What had become of Briga?

At last! At last, she could see the glorious moonlight shining down on her.

The trees reached toward it almost like fingers in supplication. She looked around in fear. Perhaps those inhumane, superstitious savages were still near and would beat her senseless with their shovels or pierce her with their pitchforks before thrusting her again under the sod, finishing the job. How had she survived all they had done?

She staggered into the thicket and fell kneeling at the creekside. In the gurgling stream she saw her reflection, and her hand went to her bruised and battered face. Such cruelty. She would have sobbed, but only a raspy, guttural sound came out, and no tears would flow.

But what of Briga? Did she yet live?

And the other. The one who had caused all of this. She! I must find the betrayer!

Her hand caressed the taut, almost translucent skin of her pale cheek. Her limbs felt strong--very strong indeed.

She stood up, anger surging in her like a volcano. No, it was not she who should be afraid. They had killed her once, already...what more could they do to her? They had destroyed the humble healer who never hurt a soul. She clenched and unclenched her fists, relishing what it would feel like to have her fingers tightening like iron cords around the neck of an enemy.

Now...now there would be hell to pay.
« Last Edit: May 26, 2018, 11:40:31 PM by Iridni Ren »

My windows cracked, but they can be replaced.
Your arm will tire throwing stones my way.

Iridni Ren

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Re: A Lorn, Lone Creetur
« Reply #1 on: June 11, 2018, 10:57:16 AM »
She is here!

What I felt with every fibre of my wretched being is true. Others hunt her as well, but they won't see through all her deception...just as I once could not.

They won't be able to stop her.

The anger that now roasts my heart on a sharpened spittle became a conflagration until I couldn't see through its flames...and I killed. Many times. Violence promised relief from the frustration and agony. From memories of my poor Briga. From what I saw reflected in the stream after I awoke. They did this to me, but all because of her.

Rending the bandits felt like eating snow: cooling relief to the acid corroding my bitter tongue but no lasting sustenance. Only feeling her wobbly, lying throat between my hands will give me that!

This missing baby...her handiwork? I hope so. Whatever it takes to find her.

Briga, we will be avenged, my little darling.


My windows cracked, but they can be replaced.
Your arm will tire throwing stones my way.

Iridni Ren

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Re: A Lorn, Lone Creetur
« Reply #2 on: June 12, 2018, 04:27:16 PM »
Through great effort I restrained myself with the Vistani. There were many of them, including the monstrous one they called "the Librarian," and above all I knew I would be trapped in their barred camp should I take my fury out on them. I had tested the gate, and it was beyond my strength even now to burst.

The professor feared me enough that I believe he at least spoke the truth. I had him alone and his screams would have summoned the others far too late to save him were I to clench his soft flesh in my iron grip or smash his delicate face with my hardened fist. I saw how he quivered whenever I glared at him, and his courage was not that he would have risked his leisurely life of travel and study coming to an end.

Yet I will keep a watchful eye on them, for I don't believe their claims of knowing nothing of the missing baby. I wish I could have had a moment with that wee little man. He...he was hiding something I'm sure. But he ran so quickly and alerted the others of my intent.

If ever I catch him outside their camp, he will speak or his tongue will be pulled slowly from his skull.

My windows cracked, but they can be replaced.
Your arm will tire throwing stones my way.

Iridni Ren

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Re: A Lorn, Lone Creetur
« Reply #3 on: June 14, 2018, 02:33:53 AM »
So close.

I sensed her, and she would not elude me. I knew my compass was true, for first it led me to those of my village. Saoirse and her sister, Caoimhe...Graer. They recognized me as well, even in my present sorry state and having seen me die.

But I felt no warmth toward them, for all emotion is ice compared with this anger that burns me now. I fear even my affection for Briga is waning. Dear Hala, no!

I must hope that if I throttle the life from my betrayer, it will restore my babe. Her cheeks, her blonde curls, her tiny hands that once reached for mine. Then, then, I will feel again. Something other than this undying fury that keeps me always moving, never able to rest. Never at peace.

So close. For once the deceiver could not hide herself--not behind her minion, who felt the power of my spear. Not in all her illusions and tricks. She disappeared, only by Hala I saw through her spell to her shriveled form of ugliness and cornered her by the lake. I thought I had cornered her. But she plunged into the water. Those fools with me wasted precious moments fighting werewolves while she escaped!

No, they had no choice but to defend themselves when the werebeasts attacked. Yet I would have killed those trying to help--my comrades in the hunt--even so. My rage clouded my mind until I spilled the blood of those who wanted to reason with me.

It was foolish to think anyone else has the same singleness of aim. Others worry too much about their own lives and safety to be of use to me. Whatever has brought me back from the grave can be for only one purpose: to end her once and forever.

My windows cracked, but they can be replaced.
Your arm will tire throwing stones my way.

Iridni Ren

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Re: A Lorn, Lone Creetur
« Reply #4 on: June 16, 2018, 04:32:33 AM »
She awoke once more.

She could not remember all that had happened, but she knew it was not the water that had taken her this time. She'd overcome her dread and dived into the murky depths because she knew Abigail waited below. The others followed, although they distrusted her. Especially Sasha. That was understandable, as it was he whom she had nearly killed in her rage.

She watched him fight the skrags, however, and whether or no he meant her ill, she could see that he was the most useful of them. He was best able to help her accomplish her goal, and so it did not matter in the end what he might intend for her. She knew now that no one but Abigail could consign her to death eternal. Should Sasha strike her down, she would rise again and again. Until she or her mortal foe triumphed over the other.
 
She saw them...Sasha and Katrena...and Briga! As though in a dream. And for a moment her anger cooled, viewing the small child of her womb, her soul contemplating release. Briga was restored by Teryn's sacrifice! But then the vision faded. She awoke.

The woman in the vision let them all go, save Briga, whom she threw over her shoulder and muted with her hand. It was not enough, then, that Enya's child was free of Abigail's curse: the dead woman's task remained undone.

And so...she felt herself and her anger rising again.

My windows cracked, but they can be replaced.
Your arm will tire throwing stones my way.