Lominzil admired the glowing brand, continuing to speak. "When you sold me to the Master....it took me some time to understand just what had happened....thankfully Carn Dum took me in and....instructed me. Sister Drasia taught me well...and learned much from my weak carcass....but she was kind to me...far kinder then to my brother Neluben.....pray to what gods to have that Neluben does not come.”
Gwyn tried to hurry but she was still so weak…as Lominzil pressed the glowing brand against Dar’s face with a sizzle.
Dartanius grit his teeth, enduring the burning pain silently, but it was Gwyn who called out, throwing herself forward towards the woman who claimed to be her daughter. When last she saw Halandith and her son Halendon they were both three. Now this woman older than Gwyn herself calls herself her daughter yet says she is called Lominzil and is some kind of…monster. Then she mentions her brother, but calls him Neluben? What is this, a nightmare, some kind of madness? It cannot be real..it cannot!
Gwyn staggered, getting a hand on Lominzil’s arm, and her world seemed to explode in a flash of noise and color. Her mind was overwhelmed with a sense of time, flowing like water, backwards and forwards like the tide. She saw her daughter as she remembered her, helpless and afraid then watched in horror as the years raced by, each horrific injury followed by just as horrific healing, each brutal death followed by a terrifying resurrection, seeming at times to move backwards and forwards in time, calling some other older woman her mother, until she sees the monster now standing before her.
Gwyn screamed and staggered back struggling to dispel the images that were burned into her mind. Could this truly be her little Halandith? What have they done to her?
“Leave him be…I will not let you harm him!!!” Gathering her strength Gwyn rushed at the woman again. As her hand made contact, the same flash and more pain, more horror. Now she saw a small boy, held by one foot and dropped into a warg pen to the delight of the spectators, enjoying fine wine and delicacies in some red draped chamber. The screams and wet chomping sounds echoed over their laughter. Then growling and howls of agony as warg was pitted against warg until only one beast remained, a massive brute now with human eyes, its fur the same color as her Halendon’s hair.
The woman laughed again. "You will not let me harm him...Mother, you are WHY he will be harmed. You will destroy him as you destroyed everyone else you touched, I am just making sure you can’t run away this time...." She pressed the brand into Dar's forehead just above his right eye, the sizzle and stench of burning flesh filling the tent.
As the poker made contact Dar squirmed for a moment but he would not give his captors the satisfaction of a scream or other sound of discomfort for that matter. He shook with the effort.
Lominzil held the poker where it was, the flesh continuing to char and burn away in a spot above his eye. "Shall I continue mother, or are you ready yet to embrace your sin....you are in control of all that happened, all that will happen.'
Gwyndolith growled a low growl before returning to her senses "I am sorry that I left you and your brother..." she moved to put her arms around her daughter again. "Put the brand down Halandith... Your grudge is with me, not him." Many emotions ran through her eyes but most prominent were regret and cold calculation.
As she tried to embrace the older woman, Gwyn suddenly couldn’t catch a breath and her left shoulder began to ache. A stabbing pain ran down her arm as her heart grew still in her breast. She began to feel herself growing faint and withered.
Gwyn fell back, unable to stand any longer, watching as if in a dream as the poker slid down into Dar's eye, the scent of burning meat intensified as she was helpless to save him...or herself it seemed as her body shuddered, her heart struggling to beat again.
For his part Dartanius struggled through the pain that the poker caused but again failed to show any outward sign of the pain.
Watching Gwyn fall back, Lominzil made a slow purring noise. "Oh Mother...do you never grow tired of failing? Why did you not kill yourself long ago and spare people the pain?'
Gwyn’s heart began to beat again but slowly, weakly, her hands and feet numb and her grip on her previous convictions weakening. Perhaps this IS all her fault...a punishment of some kind...clearly she had failed to rescue either child as she had sworn to do.
Gwyndolith shuddered, her voice hoarse. "You think I didn't try? Ask your masters why I'm alive at all hm?" she barely managed to get out.
Lominzil laughed again, her mismatched silver eye sparkling. She lifted the poker away from Dar, contemplating the charred flesh on the tip the way a child might examine a roasted marshmallow. "You failed at THAT as well? What could be easier then dying? How could I have EVER come from such a worthless wretch as you?'
Dartanius fidgeted against the ropes that bound him finally hanging limp, conserving his strength.
The woman watched Dar sag in the ropes and shook her head sadly. "I had hoped you had more life in you, beastman..soon there will be nothing left but to feed you to Neluben...'
Gwyndolith struggled to turn her gaze to her daughter "I might have failed to rescue you... But I never sold you... By... The time I escaped... I hadn't seen either... Of you... For more than half a year."
The woman snorted. "Even now, you can do nothing but lie to yourself. You are truly pathetic." From somewhere close at hand, a long, angry howl echoes through the tend and the woman smiles. "Oh how lovely, my brother heard my offer of fresh meat...your son comes to devour your lover. It will be such a touching reunion.....MOTHER."
The scorn and hatred Lominzil poured into the word Mother made Gwyn’s heart feel as if it would stop again.
-
Meanwhile in Fornost, Xandilif looked out over what should have been blasted, scattered ruins but instead was a thriving fortress, bustling in preparation to withstand a siege.
Lif spat again. “What the feck is this now?'
Finchley looked around in curiosity, one hand resting comfortingly on neth's shoulder, the other holding one of her daggers at the ready, just in case.
Nethrida blinked and looked horribly confused. "W...What happened...?" She looked around to try and make sense of the situation.
Catalinna shook her head as the landscape transformed; she closed her eyes, once... twice.. three times.. and then shook her head again, letting out a sigh with it this time. "Great..."
A man carrying a bundle of spears hurried past them, nearly slamming into Nethrida, before stopping. "Don’t just stand there you sluggards, make yourselves useful...the beasts will be here by nightfall.'
Just inside the gate, Sablelinna cried out in pain and called out for water as she slid off the horse and onto the ground like a meal sack. She barely lifted her head up.
Finchley blinked. "Beasts?" She looked around again, brows furrowed. "Why does this seem familiar... Like someone's gone and messed with ti--" She cut off when she heard Sable fall and rushed over to her to attempt to help her up. "Anyone have water? All I have in my pockets are snacks..."
Xandilif tossed Finchley a second Grog bottle. “Here, this will do her good.”
Catalinna had freed Sable and brought the woman this far- for what purpose was yet to be determined. She didn’t make any movement other than observing her for now, leaving aid to Finchley and she definitely didn’t seem to be allowing herself to be near her.
Finchley caught the grog bottle and attempted to help Sable have a sip. "Sorry, it ain't water. Best we've got for the moment."
Sablelinna tried to swallow the grog but it burned and she spat it out... 'Arrrgh!' she cried, tears rolling down her face. She curled into the fetal position and mumbled into her arms.
Within the constantly moving throng, two soldiers passing by were speaking in loud tones..."I heard it myself from one of the general staff....the King and Queen are preparing to flee the city, they know all is lost and wish to save the child. They will go North into the ice while the dogs of Angmar feast on our bones...that is what royalty is like.'
His friend responded, wide eyed."I heard the King has dismissed much of his council...just speaking with the highest generals, and of course those foreign sisters.'
The other man spat in scorn. "If you ask me, they brought us to this pass....I don’t know how..but somehow'
Nethrida frowned at the men. She took a deep breath "We're... In the past?"
Xandilif frowned at Nethrida. "Trouble? How you figure?
Nethrida glanced around and frowned "Where else could we be? This is clearly Fornost..." She sighed, then attempted to hail the two soldiers.
Catalinna walked over to one of the pillars as the knight motioned the soldiers over, wanting to be out of sight for the moment. Finch struggled to help Sable rise so they could follow.
Sablelinna tried to stand on tattered feet but had to put her weight on Finch to stay up. She was light as a feather, the orcs having barely fed her.
The soldiers paused and looked Neth up and down, seeming a bit shocked by a woman in so much armor but these were desperate days. "Aye, can I help you? What company are you with, I don’t know that armor. Who is your commander?'
Nethrida blinked a few times "Oh uhm... This is an old family armor... From Cardolan... I'm just here to try and get even with those bastards..." She noded sharply.
The soldiers accepted this as perfectly reasonable. "Good luck to you then, lass. Your lost ones will be proud I am sure. You'd best report to The Lord of the Walls and get an assignment, he should have something you can do, perhaps sharpening blades or bearing water to the fighters. We haven’t long left so we all have to get ready to do our parts.”
Nethrida nodded at the soldiers "Thank you... I'll do that." She then saluted the soldiers and turned around to face Lif. "We're absolutely in the past..."
Xandilif spat, agreeing with the knight. "How the feck did this happen? Did you touch something you weren’t supposed ta touch?
Nethrida pursed her lips and rubbed the back of her head. "No... There was the vision... And then suddenly we're here..."
Xandilif rubbed her eyes. "You figure they are connected? Your vision and this shitestorm?
Nethrida hesitated for a moment, and then nodded "No doubt about that... It was right near here... They were... Lobbing severed heads over the walls..." She cringed at the recollection of the vision, not mentioning that in her vision she had known one of the heads to be her father.
Finchley asked, 'How far back would you say we've gone then?'
Nethrida looked at Lif with a somewhat amused look. "Far enough that not even the Banshee wouldnt be around for many centuries... IF this truly is the battle where Fornost was lost... We are over an age in the past" she frowned.
Catalinna shrugged as she looked at the ground and appeared to be slightly disappointed that she didn't see any of the heads that the woman had spoken about. "What does it matter? Past or not? This is not our fight.. We're here for that fancy cup, hm?"
Finchley kept still while holding Sable and seemed to listen for something unheard. After awhile, she simply shrugged. Nothing. She can't decide if that's a good or bad thing considering where they are currently.
The elleth sighed 'If that is when we are...then we want to get out of here by morning, since this place is going to be raked over the coals'
Nethrida nodded a bit "We should have a few hours to look for the Treasury... Before needing to leave."
Catalinna grinned like her namesake, "And what better time to look for it then when everyone else is distracted."
Finchley nodded and helped Sable move forward with her. "Alright... ready!" She attempted to look cheery and up to the task. Mostly she just looked strained and tense.
Xandilif thought for a second...then slapped herself in the forehead. "Ah feck.....that must be it....We don’t got to go looking for no treasury....'
Nethrida raised an eyebrow and looked at Lif "What...?"
The Banshee spat again. 'We are IN the fecking treasury....the LAST treasury of Arvedui....is his history.'
Nethrida blinked a few times, realization slowly sinking in "Ohhh...."
Finchley shook her head, 'But, Moyna said that we'd need both Miss Cat and I to-“
Lif pointed at Finch, then at Cat. “You are both here, ain’t ya?
Finchley looked a bit crestfallen. “... Oh."
Xandilif nodded, 'MMmhmmm...and I will bet that when the both of you went through the Norbury Gate, together, it triggered something. And if we are here, then that damned dream I had last night, that boy I saw, and we are supposed to save...is Aranarth...the first chiefain of the rangers...Arvedui's son'
Everyone spoke at once as it became clear they had all had the same dream. Nethrida seemed a little confused "But how are we ment to do that...? Surely the boy is with the kind and queen...? What chance do we have to get even close...?"
Lif kicked a rock.'You heard that idiot...he said the king and queen are said to be ready to flee with the boy to the North....right?'But in history, Firiel and the boy did not go North with him...then went to her father’s old allies...the elves. If the boy goes with his father...he will die in Forochel and the line of kings will be over...full stop.'
Finchley nodded, actually becoming a bit excited by all the history. 'So, we've got to make sure his son gets out of here alive so that history doesn't change, aye?'
'Maybe...I don’t know...this seems all mixed up together' Lif leaned back against a wall.
Catalinna shook her head, "Just one stone added can change the course of a stream….who knows what we are messing up just standing here."
Sudden shouting filled the street as regally armored soldiers pushed people back. "THE KING...THE KING IS COMING TO INSPECT THE BATTLEMENTS....MAKE WAY FOR THE ROYAL FAMILY, LONG MAY THEY REIGN.”
Nethrida moved off to the side, the habits of an old soldier making her stand at attention, stiff as a plank. “He must feel the need to show the people he is still here, in charge of the battle. I approve.”
A party of honor guards came through next, pushing more people back while passing out small flags with the royal quest for people to wave. Behind them were several older men, clearly generals.... then a weary looking man in a crown, carrying a small boy in his arms with a woman beside them. The boy was a little younger than the one they saw in the dream, perhaps five, but was certainly the boy in the throne, just without the gleam of evil in his eyes. Behind the family came two women, perhaps the foreign sisters the soldier mentioned, advisors to the king.'
The first, the lighter of the two, was younger than they remembered seeing her but there was no doubt that it was Moyna. Finchley's Grams'
Finchley merely watched, frozen in place, expression hidden by her hood. She said nothing for now.
Catalinna was tempted to just throw a dagger at Moyna, right there... but then she was sure that her life would be ended before it even began. She eyed the boy instead, to keep from igniting her anger and considered him, noting a deep sorrow in his eyes. She knew how he felt.
The other woman now came into view. She was raven haired and more beautiful than her sister and despite a different build and longer hair, facially was the spitting image of....Finchley.
Finchley just stared, then nearly doubled over by the fierce pain in her side. The fragment of Aganalu's soul she carried was not at all happy about something.
