Men who play games of war and soldiers born from circumstance...
MAIN
PROFILES
ALBUMS
STORIES
EXTRAS
LINKS
 |
Scroll 02 : 07
|
Thunder resonates overhead as water slips between the cracks in the wooden roof of the worn barn. Kso’ppghiel looks up for only a moment when a drop hits him before his attention is once again pulled towards the small figure below. “Take that!” The young girl laughs as she charges with a wooden weapon, cream-colored, leathery wings extending behind her with each clumsy thrust. He returns the laughter as he parries weakly with his father’s longsword, careful to keep his defenses light. “We will need to fix that once the rain stops.” An older voice behind him pulls his attentions again, allowing the girl time in his distraction to poke him in the leg and shove her brother back. “Ow! E’nerii! Not fair.” Kso’ppghiel joins in the young girl’s laughter, falling into the dry hay dramatically to startle the oxen behind them. Pupiless white eyes take a moment to pull away and look up, meeting a matching pair as his father stands before them. “First thing father, it will be done tomorrow.” He grins. The older man smiles before picking up his sword from the hay-strewn floor to hand it back to his son. “I expect this to come back to me in one piece.” He flashes Kso’ppghiel a knowing look before patting his daughter on the head and giving her a sad smile, turning away a moment later to return to the house. “Of course, father...” He says, the smile fading from his lips as he watches the older man step back out into the rain. “Why is father always like that about his sword?” The small girl wonders. “It’s just a dumb piece of metal right?” Kso’ppghiel smirks at his little sister’s words before placing the longsword gently beside him and pulling the young girl into his lap. “Has he never told you?” E’nerii shakes her head in confusion. Clawed fingers pick up the weapon once again, bringing the hilt to their fronts to show her as he speaks. “When mother died…” The small girl’s pupiless blue gaze quickly falls at the mention and he places a hand under her chin to lift it back up. “No, it was not your fault. If given the choice mother would have wanted you to live and the result would have been the same. There is always a risk in childbirth, you are far too young to blame yourself over something only nature can control.” She nods solemnly at his words before small, clawed fingers reach up to touch the horn inlaid into the end of the hilt and Kso’ppghiel wraps his arms around his sister before continuing, his head sliding over a small shoulder as her fingers play absently with the handle. “There are very few things in this world father cares about; they would be us, our mother and his sword. This sword has been his companion and kept him alive through many wars. It also allowed him to meet mother when he had finally crossed the continent to the other coast. He had been commanded to raid her village, claim the food, kill the adults and take the children to be trained as new soldiers but he refused. He told them that was not why he fought and he was ordered to be executed because of it. Enough of his men respected him though, and his death was faked. But because of that, he could never return and so Father had no choice but to live as a common villager directly after. Our mother saw what he had done when all others had forgotten and she wanted to thank him somehow so she stayed with him. They fell in love and eventually made it back to father’s birthplace before I was born… this much you already know.” E’nerii nods as he continues. “When mother died, he was devastated but he knows that life sometimes makes its own decisions on what is best and could not waste much time on mourning because we had you to take care of,” Kso’ppghiel looks down at the worn leather covering the hilt’s grip. “He decided instead to keep a part of her with him and since his sword was the reason they had met, he took a part of her wing to make this leather and hollowed out a piece of her horn, setting it into the end and placing a lock of her hair inside. This as well as we both are all he has left of her and so he holds it all close to protect. This is why-” Thunder crashes overhead again to interrupt his words, causing E’nerii to jump. Kso’ppghiel chuckles and scoots her off his lap before standing himself, holding out a hand for her to take. “Come, that is enough story. It is getting late and we have a long day before us tomorrow as I expect you to help me fix this roof for that beating you gave me.” He laughs as a pout forms on her face before dragging her off towards the barn doors and back towards their home.
Io’fayl wakes right as the rain begins to shift from a torrential downpour to a light shower. She smiles as her eyes move over her sleeping Harbinger, all broken up and caged. She truly does like the fight he puts up and it only confirms just how like his father he is. He will be like no other before when she is done with him. Over the past few weeks, her desire to simply exact some form of revenge over Mithghiiel has turned into a raw desire she has not felt in decades. Not once did she ever think that ex-general’s son would turn out to be someone she would want to claim as her own and it serves the traitor right in the end for everything to come full circle in this manner it has. Combing lightly through white-blonde locks, Io’fayl watches as Kso’ppghiel’s eyes shift behind closed lids to indicate that his dreams have taken him far from where his body lies. She pulls her gaze away momentarily to glance up at the swords mounted above her bed and a soft smirk crosses her lips. The child must never find out the true circumstances of his past, otherwise it will become impossible to tame him. He has more than his share of his father’s stubborn fight within him, but where she had failed with Mithghiiel, she will succeed with his son. Two of a kind, those creatures are. Kso’ppghiel mumbles something in his sleep, his incoherent words pulling her attention back and she finds that it is times like this she wishes it were possible to read thoughts and dreams…
“Kso’ppghiel?” Mithghiiel knocks softly on his son’s door, the sound pulling him from sleep and causing him to jump in the slightest. White eyes flick around through the darkness of his room to find that it is barely before dawn. His father seriously does not want him to fix the barn roof this early, does he? Shaking his head and dragging himself from his bed, he yawns while stretching his wings behind him in an attempt to shake the sleep from his mind. “I am awake, I will get started on the roof. I promise…” he says quietly. “No… that is not why I am here.” Kso’ppghiel blinks in confusion, the strange expression painted on his father’s face causing a small streak of worry to course through him. “Is E’nerii…?” “She is fine, she sleeps. Come, walk with me.” Mithghiiel turns away and begins to make his way through the house, leaving his son dumbfounded for a moment before he rips the blanket off and races to catch up. Following close behind as his father steps outside, Kso’ppghiel looks around in confusion. “I am not sure I understand?” The man before him does not answer and only smiles softly, continuing along his way through the small village in silence until they reach a nearby hill the two would sometimes go to watch the sun rise and set together. Climbing to the top, white eyes fall on a long sword sticking straight up out of the ground. “Why is your sword here?” he wonders out loud. “That is not my sword, Kso’ppghiel. It is yours.” Kso’ppghiel simply stares at the weapon for several long moments while he works to process the words that have been said before he finally moves forward and reaches tentatively out to grasp the hilt. “I had it made for you, an exact duplicate. Seeing as how you fight so well with mine, I figured you might like your own.” his father smirks. “Minus the parts of your mother, of course...” A long sigh leaves him as he watches the smile that forms on his son’s face while he begins to play with the weight and balance of his new weapon. “I am getting too old to protect you and your sister and you are growing far too quickly for me to keep up. I can only hope the day you truly need to use it never comes, but I would like you to be prepared just in case.” “You will never be too old to protect us.” Kso’ppghiel says with a slight shaking of his head as he turns toward his father and Mithghiiel signals him forward, grabbing his son the moment he steps in close to hold him in a tight embrace that pulls a smile to his lips. “Thank you, father.” Kso’ppghiel whispers. “I will always keep it close as you do yours.” “That is all I can ask…”
 The Harbinger’s expression slowly shifts as his dreams do and he unconsciously turns to the clawed hand cupping the side of his face while rust colored eyes continue to watch him intently.
 “Does she not have enough already!?” Mithghiiel yells as his sword slices through another solider. Fires rages all around them, quickly burning the thatched roof homes of the small village to send cries of distress spilling from every corner as merciless weapons bear down on the residents left and right. “Kso’ppghiel!” The ex-general’s son comes rushing out from the barn where he had been attempting to stop the oxen from being roasted alive and quickly moves towards him. “Father, what can I do?!” Pupiless white eyes pull away from the solider ahead, cleaving the man in two without so much as a backwards glance spared as he meets his son’s desperate gaze. “Protect your sister! Take E’nerii and go!” “Father I will not leav-” “GO!” It takes everything Kso’ppghiel has to pull himself from his father’s side, and he runs as fast as he can towards the house, rushing inside soon after to begin a frantic search for his sister. “E’nerii! Where are you?” “Brother!” A frightened voice comes from the far corner of the house and he darts immediately towards the source. “I’m scared. What do they want?!” It takes little time to locate her and Kso’ppghiel wraps clawed fingers around E’nerii’s hand to pull her towards his room in order to secure his long sword as well. “I do not know, but Father wants me to take you somewhere safe.” “I don’t want to leave!” She cries out and tugs her brother back as tears begin to streak down her face. “Where is father?!” “He is making it possible for us to escape alive.” Unwilling to waste even a moment of time arguing, Kso’ppghiel simply throws his sister over his shoulder and rushes towards the back door of the house only to find a group of soldiers waiting immediately outside, baring their means of escape. “Fuck.” He whispers as he takes a half step back. Sets of cold pupiless eyes fall on the pair as the men stand before them with their weapons ready, one soon speaking up from the group. “We can use one like you.” He sneers “Drop the girl, come with us and we’ll let you live.” E’nerii clings tightly to her brother in fear and Kso’ppghiel pulls his sword free, holding her closer to him than before. “I would die before leaving her.” Laughter breaks out within the group at his boldness before they begin to encroach slowly. “Unwilling, dead, it honestly does not matter to us how you go.” Carefully sliding his sister free of his shoulder, Kso’ppghiel sets her down onto her feet and pushes her behind him, his white gaze never leaving the soldiers at his front. “Stay behind me.” He says quietly “And if anything happens, run away as fast as you can.” E’nerii nods and sinks back towards the door. Raising his sword soon after, Kso’ppghiel finds that he’s almost unsure of what to do. Years of training are suddenly gone from his mind as he is faced with a real fight for the first time since he’s seen life and he knows that the fear and uncertainly now wracking him is plain for the men to see. “He’s just a frightened whelp.” One soldier scoffs “Kill them both. We do not have time for these games.” “Back in the house.” The desperate words barely leave Kso’ppghiel’s lips before the group of men have begun moving swiftly forward. He turns, white pupiless eyes immediately meeting frightened blue and a hiss is sent in the small girl’s direction “Hide!” E’nerii wastes no time, turning her small frame around and rushing back through the open door to disappear quickly inside. Kso’ppghiel turns back, his gaze locking momentarily with one soldier before he steps back and slams the door against them, twisting himself around and heading towards the front end of the house where he knows his father to be. “Why are you and your sister not gone?!” Mithghiiel yells as he catches his fast approaching son in the corner of his eye, unable to break from the battle at his front and the strain of fighting clearly beginning to show on his features. “More in the back,” Kso’ppghiel breathes. “There is nowhere to escape through but E’nerii is hiding-” His words are cut short as a solider breaks free and swings at him with a mace. Kso’ppghiel throws his own weapon up on instinct and barely manages to block the blow, realizing quickly that he’s hardly a match. He cannot do this. The desperation of his thoughts are interrupted when the ground below them begins to shake, the site that stands before them momentarily stilling all movement around. Large creatures, bigger than anything Kso’ppghiel has ever seen barrel through the burning village before them, the pathways of destruction they make ripping everything down at an alarming rate. “Rangas…” The word is grunted from Mithghiiel’s lips and he readies himself once more for what approaches. Kso’ppghiel finds that cannot pull his gaze away from them, staring down at the scene with a mixture of fear and awe. His father had mentioned Rangas in his stories, but to actually see one… They were twice his size, all muscle and nearly troll-like in their appearance. The tusks that protrude from their lower lips are capped in silver and the makeshift armor draped across their frames is pointless as it truly looks like nothing would be able to touch them. “They are more brawn than brains. This is unnecessary overkill… but then, she always did hate to leave anything to chance…” narrowing his eyes, Mithghiiel’s voice drops low “This is a fight we cannot win.” “What do we do, father?” Kso’ppghiel has no idea who this ‘she’ his father is talking about is, but he has mentioned her twice now. Mithghiiel’s pupiless gaze meets his son’s, the solemn words given nearly lost in the battle that rages around them. “We run or we die.” Kso’ppghiel turns and runs towards the house in a frantic flight to gather E’nerii at his father’s command. A sudden clashing of metal on metal stops him immediately in his tracks and he spins to find Mithghiiel still standing in his place behind, barely holding the battle ax of an attacking Ranga at bay. Noticing his son has stopped; Mithghiiel turns “Kso’ppghiel hurry!” he yells as he manages to dodge a heavy blow. “I cannot hold for long!” White eyes meet matching white for the briefest of moments, the warning he tries to shout lost when the moment of distraction allows a secondary weapon to cleave his father almost in two. The entire world comes to abrupt halt as Kso’ppghiel looks on, disbelieving eyes watching Mithghiiel’s body crumple near silently to the ground. Long moments seem to stretch on forever, the scene far too surreal to be truth before the screams of a child somewhere in the distance reaches his ears and snaps him free of his trancelike state. Tearing his eyes away, a measure of dread passes through him as Kso’ppghiel turns instantly towards the house. E’nerii. In motion before he’s even fully aware, Kso’ppghiel frantically calls his sister’s name as he bursts through the door. He is immediately met with the same group of soldiers he had been running from before, an odd sense of numbness streaking through him as white eyes shift down to the lifeless and bleeding form at their feet. Kso’ppghiel snarls and readies his sword. He is going to kill every single one ...
|
