Woes and Regrets

[wangxiuming]

I've miscalculated.

A dull pain in Alyrian's palm caused him to look down - blood was flowing freely from an open wound where he had clenched his fist so tight that he had cut into himself with his own nails. A brief flash of annoyance crossed his face as he closed his eyes. Seconds later, the injury closed in on itself, leaving only a small strip of pale flesh on his right hand as evidence.

Tifton's sacrifice has accomplished nothing. I should have never let Kemnebi into that ritual.

He jerked open his eyes as he opened and closed his palm. Twirling his fingers in the air a bit, he released a small surge of violet energy in the air and watched as it showered onto the grassy hills of Sharahan. Where the sparks fell, the green blades withered and died.

I thought with this latest act of sabotage, perhaps at least Kemnebi would finally be revealed as the traitor he is. But even against the word of a dozen priests and clerics, he still maintains loyal allies. He, an admitted follower of Talos! What is this madness?!

His fist clenched involuntarily, and he had to forcibly stop his hand from clawing itself apart. "What ... is this madness," he repeats aloud, to no one in particular.

"You would be one to speak of madness, wouldn't you, Alyrian?"

In one smooth motion, Alyrian whirled around, trying to determine the source of his unseen companion. "Show yourself."

"Have you forgotten us so quickly, Alyrian? You lived among us for nearly a century, learning our teachings, practicing our methods. You understood our purpose, our wisdom - and yet here you've returned, still helpless, still weak."

In the face of this sightless stalker, Alyrian's brow furrows heavily. Eyes narrowed to slits, he whispers his companion's name with disgust.

"Ander."

[wangxiuming]

Alyrian was not pleased with the appearance of this familiar face. "I've heard rumors of your habit of appearing of nowhere. What do you want?"

From out of the shadows, a slight but monstrous figure emerged; hazy oscillations rippled forth and subsided to reveal an unusual-looking elf. Jet black hair was countered by crimson eyes. His skin had an odd sheen about it, almost as if it were layered with a serpent's scales. He wouldn't have appeared intimidating were it not for the large leathery wings that stretched to almost twice his height; indeed, his frame might even have been smaller than your average elf. Still, there was a fiery aura about him - of passion and of power ... there was no mistaking it. This was Ander, Elder of the Sacred Circle.

An amused smile crosses Ander's face as he unfurled his scarlet red wings, leathery and massive. Stretching them out to their full diameter, Ander let loose a yawn. As he breathed out, Alyrian could feel a flash of gruesome heat - some of the dryer Sharahan grass even caught ablaze. Choking a bit on the hot air, Alyrian backed up a few paces. Ander merely laughed.

"Why have I come? I've come because we had a deal, but you don't seem to be keeping your side of things. We agreed to allow you to return, we even agreed to leave your powers intact ... and yet this place is still a maelstrom of chaos."

With each passing word, the red dragon disciple seems less and less good-humored. He begins pacing the grassy hills: seven steps to the left, turn, seven steps to the right. A line of smoking grey ash is soon all that remains in his wake.

Abashed, Alyrian looked down with frustration and shame. It was true - he had not been successful in bringing Balance back to this place. Ander didn't waste a moment pointing it out.

"Have you forsaken us? We've seen insane monks, terrifying bandits, a fallen paladin, undead and demons ... and now unholy equine heralds? Trials, and battles, and unadulterated pandemonium. I'm surprised they can even manage government."

Alyrian's brow wrinkled further under the Elder's verbal disparage. "This place ... it's so ..." He stumbles to find words. " ... how can you expect any one man to save it?!"

At these words, Ander whirled about to turn a piercing stare towards his elven cousin.

"Who said anything about saving it?"

[wangxiuming]

Months later...

"Things are not proceeding as we had hoped, my master. The spirit we released has not smothered that land as we had hoped. Our sources say it seems to have taken up residence there."

" ... give her time. Her power is yet still being renewed - escaping from the hells can hardly have been a simple task."

"Releasing her was a mistake - we overestimated her desire to purge that place. Now we've only doused oil onto the fire."

"You underestimate me, my pupil. If Phaedriel will not indulge our will ... then we simply must find another way."

[wangxiuming]

Twilight was fast approaching. Deep within the Valley, just outside the Gate of the Sunderer, Nulinus Lightbringer approached an abandoned stone ruin, searching for something only he could know about. What he found, however, was a familiar figure - Alyrian.

Nulinus could not contain an expression of shock upon finding his old friend. "What are you doing here?"

Alyrian smiled lazily - he had the look of one who had spent many restless nights languishing in the false joy of dust; but something was different. Alyrian's eyes were bloodshot, his pace was broken and disjointed, and his expression was one of tired exhaustion. Magicks swirled about him in a conglomerate haze as flashing lights and sparks of energy burst forth from his fingertips only to dissipate into the weave. He looked to Nulinus only for a moment, before returning his attention to the undeniable energies born of his will.

The dwarf frowned heavily, scrutinizing Alyrian's entire form as he crossed his arms. "I haven't seen you since ... the demon."

The magic-enrapt elf didn't even look up - his focus was so drawn to the magic emanating from his hands. "My mother. She took control - but she's gone now ... dead. Brother Tifton killed her. He saved me."

Nulinus' eyes widened slightly at Alyrian's mention of the fallen knight. " ... Brother? ... you said Brother Tifton?"

The magicks continued to shudder and twitch around Alyrian, like a fountain of sparkling fireflies. Nulinus could just barely ignore the lights, as he covered his sight with his hand like a visor.

Alyrian whirled on his once-friend, as if finally realizing he was there. "Where have you been?" He said a little too loudly, his eyes locked onto Nulinus' intently.

Seeing his question dismissed, Nulinus decided to answer Alyrian's, even as the magicks continue to whirl off of the elf's hands, falling harmlessly against the sandy earth and fading against the air. "I have been many places, my boots have traveled far since I was tossed from that awful stony prison ... "

But Alyrian's attention had been diverted back to the flashing lights once again, his laughter uncharacteristic of the situation, chilling. "Ha ha ha ... I remember ... mother heard something through my ears ... You and Sheron and Hano ... isn't that right?"

"Yes ... it was Banites. Just like the first time ... except they were kind enough to just starve us instead of taking a blade to me." The dwarf gingerly rubbed his cheek, where a long scar stretching from the corner of his mouth to his ear had been cruelly dug.

Alyrian's only response: "Ha ha ha ... "

A flicker of anger rose up in Nulinus. "Funny? Amusing?"

But Alyrian's attention wasn't on the dwarf. "More ... power."

"Alyrian ... what has become of you ... " said Nulinus, caution and shock overtaking him as he took a step back.

The elf finally seemed to notice Nulinus' apprehension. His reaction was aggressive, even hostile. "What's wrong, friend? Don't you want to feel this power ... how intoxicating it is?"

Nulinus stared deeply into Alyrian's eyes; they were bloodshot, crazed, pupils highly dilated. "What are you talking about?"

"Here ... let me show you ... ha ha ha ... "

He lifted a finger, pointing it straight at Nulinus' forehead. Nulinus reacted instantly, a hand flying to the hilt of his axe. "What are you doing?!"

"Ha ha ha ... you will ... feel the power ..." A surge of power began to build up at Alyrian's fingertip - in the matter of seconds, a huge ball of crimson red energy had formed, swirling like a tornado, held together only by the sheer force of the elf's will.

Without any warning, the massive blast of energy hurled itself straight at Nulinus.

[wangxiuming]

Nulinus threw himself out of the way, as the crash of magic just narrowly missed smashing into his face. Instead, the scarlet energy slammed into the crates behind him, exploding, taking chunks of stone and wood with it.

Nulinus screamed, "What is wrong with you?!"

Alyrian's reply was amused - as if he had no idea what he had almost done. "Ha ha ha ... why did you duck? Didn't you ... want to feel the power? It's sweet ... embrace ..." He swallowed heavily, smacking his lips.

"You could have killed me. What has gotten into you?!"

"Ha ha ha ... shall we ... try again?" Without waiting for Nulinus' response, he raised a finger, preparing to fire off another surge.

"I highly recommend not trying that again ... " But Nulinus' apprehension was premature - the energy surrounding Alyrian's hand did not come as easily as it did just a few seconds ago, building up but dissipating just as quickly. The dwarf saw his opportunity - he charged towards Alyrian in spite of all his heavy armor.

Alyrian was oblivious to the dwarf's rush. "Wha ... " Shaking his hand, he tried to concentrate again, but to no avail.

Nulinus slammed into Alyrian. "OOFF!!" Despite being thrown onto his back under the weight of Nulinus' charge, Alyrian remained focused only on his sudden inability to command the magic. He offered no resistance as the dwarf began to pin him down with his superior strength. "Ha ha ha ... why ... doesn't it come?"

Trying to talk some sense into the elf, Nulinus asked "Tell me, what are you doing this for?"

But Alyrian still refused to acknowledge Nulinus. Pointing a finger to the sky, he tried again to call forth the magic, but only a few weak sparks shoot out. "The power ... the power Lady Mestra taught me ... where is it ... where did it go?"

Nulinus' couldn't believe his ears. "Mestra ...?! Alyrian ... say this isn't so ..." Alyrian merely laughed again, but it is humorless now. Still shaking his one free hand, he tried again and again to summon forth the dread energies, but is met with failure once and again. Frustrated, he screamed to the dwarf holding him down: "Where is it .. .what did you do with it, Nulinus?!"

"Why do you work with such evil? Do you know what Mestra has done? To your friends?"

"Evil ... they're not evil ... Tifton saved me ... he was the only one who .. . cared. And then he brought me to the lady ... and she gave me ... such power ... "

"I cared, Alyrian. If only you had trusted me!"

But Alyrian refused to listen. He called out in desperate anger, the words pouring out as if straight from his soul. "What did you do with my power?! What did you do with it?! Without it, I am nothing! I won't be worthy of her, I won't be able to save him - I can't do anything without it!!"

" ... GIVE IT BACK TO ME."

"Save ... him? -- HELLS!" Nulinus' question was cut short when suddenly, Alyrian's entire body began to change - shift. Familiar, if nonetheless frightening violet auras began to encircle his body, as his features melted away, distorted beyond recognition; his pale skin turned a cobbled grey as his entire body began to enlarge and expand, muscles burgeoning where once there was only meager flesh. Giant leathery wings sprouted forth from his back, pushing off the ground, throwing Nulinus off. Horns and spikes jutted out from his face as his eyes drew up into a sinister angle, the bloodshot white soon completely replaced by scarlet red.

"This power ... is all I have now ... and I must have MORE!"

"No!" Despite the towering figure of the devil before him, Nulinus lunged straight for Alyrian. His efforts were for naught however, as the devil leaped into the air, beating its leather wings against the earth, sending dust, ash, and sand into the air all around. Alyrian soared into the air under the warm currents, and hurled off into the horizon, vanishing. The last words that reached his diabolic ears were a fading "I can help you!"

Not looking back, Alyrian hurtled through the skies, beating his wings more and more furiously, as if he was desperate to escape something ... terrible.