Dark Reflections

The room was dark. The shades were drawn, the lights all out, the door shut and locked. It was night out in any case, an inky blackness covering the large city. It was midnight, or maybe later, she no longer knew or even really cared. She just needed the blackness, the embrace of her Lord and his stygian touch against her.

The bath water had cooled from a seething heat to a comforting warmth. It surrounded her, holding her flesh with the caress of a lover. Her wounds had stopped bleeding some time ago, but she knew the water still held a blush despite the pitch-shaded shadows coating the room. After several hours, her muscles had finally relaxed, achingly releasing the tension of pain till she merely lay silent and loose in the balmy liquid. Her body was calm and still, the slashes in her lower back and left arm merely lines of distant soreness. Her mind, however, was a tangled riot of confusion even the darkness surrounding her could not ease. Her only movement was her eyes, the black pools ebony seas in a storm, shuddering waves, crashing under her scattering of heavy thoughts.

She could not explain it, could hardly even understand the things rolling through her. She had lived her life for years alone, empty, devoid of feelings beyond her faith, her appetites, and her cynical humor. But, other feelings had surfaced, had blossomed with in her, burying into her chest and her mind.

It had begun with Ebyn, her Commander, whatever he was now. He had found her and been the first to truly –see- her, and in him she had for the first time found someone else who was touched by her Lord even more than herself. She had not believed it possible, but he had made it true. And, there was something more about him, something that drew her. It was not just his rough affections, but simply his power, his strength, his devotion. The one she could look upon and actually see herself improving by following his lead...And, she had thought he held her in similar esteem, similar care, similar respect. But his path had become twisted and he disregarded her warnings. And then, before she even knew it was happening, he was gone. A thief in the night, stealing away with some part of her and not so much as a word, a glance her way, or even an acknowledgement of her being alive...

And that was not all. It had shaken her faith in her city. Verminasia was the one place, the only place, she felt right, felt she belonged...but how could her Lord’s city strip and banish His greatest follower? She could only justify it with meaningless words that crumbled and faded to dust as soon as spoken..

...She knew the only thing that could truly make it clear was her God...and the Darkness had been silent to her yearning ears. The only idea that came was to speak with Ebyn..but even the thought made her teeth clench and she didn’t know why.

She sighed, shifting slightly in the large tub. Her hands trailed through the warm liquid, sending waves of ripples across the surface and forcing her long hair to brush against her sides beneath the water. It was extremely soft, the silken strands stroking her battle bruised skin with such care, such gentleness.

She shuddered, the sensation immediately forcing her mind back to Penthus...It may have begun with Ebyn, but it now lay with Penthus...She shook her head, sliding herself downwards, letting her head fall beneath the water, trying in some desperate way to submerge the feelings spiraling through her. She opened her eyes, letting them continue their storm beneath the ripples of the bath.

She knew lust, would be lying if she said she’d never felt it. But this was more. She could lust after a man and watch him get beaten to a pulp without blinking an eye, her only regret for the loss of fine flesh. But with Penthus she could not bear it, could hardly stand to watch his life drain away in streams of crimson. In a fight it was accepted, taken as part of the risk, but to see him pushed through it again and again, ripping open the same wounds time after time was cruelly piercing. The mere thought of him lying in a bed one room away sleeping off another brush with death clenched her chest.

The feeling was so intense her breath was stolen and she pushed herself from the water, droplets flowing down her pale face and onyx eyes, her wet hair slicked back from her brow and clinging to her shoulders and spine until dipping into the water and twisting around her figure. She inhaled deeply, allowing the cool air to spill into her lungs and fill her chest, vainly trying to push away the invisible weight crushing it. She exhaled, her hands rising from the water to press against her face, wiping backwards over her forehead to her hair. She blinked slowly in the darkness, her eyes unseeing, but staring at what she knew was the wall separating their rooms.

He had been beaten again, near to death, and then, right before her eyes, he disappeared without a trace. She once more heard no word, no sign, nothing. It had torn her apart; ripping open the wound Ebyn had left until she could not remain silent any longer. And then she was told he was dying once more, and it had hurt her so much, scared her so much, though she could hardly believe she admitted the word, that she had fled her city to find him. Bleeding near to death and barely retaining her seat in her saddle, she had gone after him. And she could not explain that either..

'Oh Darkness...' she whispered in a tone so soft even her own ears could hear nothing but the vibrations in her throat, '...what has happened to Your child...'

It made no sense. For one, he was an elf. Yes, she had found them beautiful, even been attracted to many, but they had all been too...soft, too tender for her attentions. And Penthus could be considered even worse, almost like a small child who couldn’t defend himself and needed protection even on the best days...And anyone such as that had never gotten more from her than a sneer. And now, he was all she could think on...and that she had to admit frightened her as well. She was unwillingly following the same path Ebyn had fallen down. But she didn’t know how to stop herself.

She shuddered slightly, a chill passing through her spine. She had even considered leaving her city, her Lord’s city, because of Penthus. It had merely been a thought, a blind supposition dredged up while drowning in confused emotions. But the simple fact that it had crossed her mind was alarming. And not so much because of the idea itself, but why she had thought it. When she had arrived in Verminasia, she knew she would never leave; it was where her Lord wanted her. But to even just consider parting with it because of that man...

She shook her head slightly. Whatever she did, she knew Penthus would still leave.

The water parted smoothly as she lifted her knees from its depths, pulling them up so her thighs pressed against her chest. A sharp throb radiated from her back, but she ignored it, letting the pain flow through her as her arms wrapped around her legs and clutched the slender limbs to her body. Her chin lowered to rest against her knees, intensifying the aching pulse in her back. She winced slightly, deciding she would need stitches if not more before her mind flitted back to where it had been.

She knew it would happen. Khar’an’s words earlier that evening had made it clear. He would take Penthus and they would leave Verminasia and, though it bled something inside her, she could only consent. She knew he would not survive if he remained. She would have done anything in her power to get him transferred from the infantry, but it would make little difference. He couldn’t last in such a place as Verminasia. And she knew he would go to Arkane, to where the two he called his parents and Ebyn had gone. And she knew how complicated that would make even just seeing him...

She rubbed her temples, the pounding beginning once more within her skull. It had become a chronic problem of late and the few herbs she had access to did little to help it. Her rippling black eyes slid shut again, her aching mind diving once more into its torrent of thoughts.

Khar’an...he was another problem, as was the other, Seraphos. She was certain they cared for her, though it was most likely a more physical affection than anything else. And, she did care for them as well, but compared to Penthus...it was not the same.

In the darkness, from the broken maze of her mind, a voice murmured, 'Love...'

She grimaced.

No. It could not be that. Penthus felt for her, but loved another, truly, she had seen it, had heard him say it. And she could not imagine being that person, though she could see herself beating them to a pulp if they ever hurt him. But, she could not see that happening. And, she envied that they could feel that, could care that much for another. Because she could not do so. She had felt love once, an age ago, before her true life began. Some part of her recalled that emotion, that blind devotion, its heat, its burning, its betrayal...and this was not the same…

Then why did it tear her apart?

A hiss rushed through her teeth as she surged to her feet, water erupting around her, swelling over the edges of the tub and making a cacophony of splashes in the silent room. She stepped out of the bath, water streaming down her white skin and leaving pools on the mahogany floorboards. She had to return to Verminasia...to the Temple of her Lord. He had guided her for so long, He would lead her now.

She dried off quickly, expertly drawing a thick cotton towel over her flesh despite the lack of light. She tossed it aside carelessly and moved to where she had left her clothing. Pulling on her breeches, she frowned at the bloodstained velvet. Her leather bodice seemed all right, but the gray chemise was ruined, the left arm and back slathered with crimson and numerous tears. She’d need to replace it and the pants as well. She grimaced as she maneuvered into the bloody shirt and laced up her bodice, and not just because of the pains it shot through her. She would have to take another trip to Haven.

She finished dressing quickly in the blackness, pulling on her boots and buckling her wide belt about her hips. Running her hands through her wet hair, she turned to the door of the room and moved toward it as quickly as her wounds would allow.

'But first Necrucifer…always Him first…'