View Full Version : ~Rehn Mehnas~
(compiling these into one thread)
~Prologue~
“Shekeles tehlkath sah Ronah manethaset.”
Sorahn suddenly awoke. The room was black, save for a streak of cool moonlight emitting from the small window in the rock wall, like a beacon in the dark. Sorahn lay on the large oaken bed he had constructed to replace the small cot given to him by the Red Hand, covered by various furs used to keep warm in the cool nights. This room had been his ever since he had joined the Red Hand years ago, and had opted to reside within the great halls of Pandemonium’s Fist.
He leaned forward slightly and looked around the room. His shrewd, powerful eyes pierced the darkness as he studied his quarters. The air was still with the calm night. The silence was interrupted only by the soft breaths of the figure that lay next to him. He turned to look at the girl. The moonlight reflected off of her white fur and bright red hair. She laid facing away from him, with the furs pulled up to her shoulders.
“Rehnahlia…” Sorahn whispered to her.
A soft moan came as response. She adjusted the covers and continued sleeping.
“Rehnahlia…” Sorahn whispered again, this time laying a hand on her shoulder. She turned to face him and reluctantly opened her eyes. “What is it, Sorahn?” She responded in a groggy voice.
“Did you hear something just now?”
She sat up a little on her pillow, giving him a confused look. “No… What did you hear?” She said, now a little concerned. She knew that Sorahn had the ears of a Ranoan warrior. They were sharp and tuned. If he heard something in the night, most likely there was a reason.
“I heard a voice,” he responded, “like a whisper.” He turned toward the room again, his senses examining the air.
“What did it say?” Rehnahlia asked, now wide-awake.
“I couldn’t make it out, but it sounded a little like High Ranoan.” Sorahn said, his ears still listening intently.
“Shekeles tehlkath sah Ronah manethaset.”
His eyes widened. He turned to Rehnahlia, who had the same look on her face. They had both heard it that time: an ethereal voice that seemed to come from nowhere.
“Do you understand High Ranoan?” Rehnahlia asked. Her voice quivered slightly. Sorahn could tell that she was frightened.
“Very little.” He responded frankly. Had he stayed on Ranoa he would have learned the ancient language of High Ranoan. The now dead language had once been spoken ages ago, in the first dawn of the Ranoan civilization. But Ranoans were a very old race, and over the thousands of years of their existence the dialect had slowly adapted and changed into what it now was, so different that they constituted separate languages. The upper class would still learn it to study the ancient manuscripts and perform traditional rituals, but most could barely even recognize it.
Sorahn’s eyes narrowed. His mind had been sent into a whirlwind. The implications that arose from hearing his people’s ancient language on a foreign planet were mind-boggling. Where is it coming from? What does it mean? Is there another Ranoan on Althanas? He thought. These questions demanded an answer.
“Come. We must go.”
They made their way out of the room and out to the entrance of the underground mountain lair that was Pandemonium’s Fist. As if on cue, there could be heard the beating of large wings and it wasn’t long before an aqua colored dragon landed directly in front of them.
“Nyvahriseth!” Rehnahlia exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. But Sorahn need not speak out loud, for he and the dragon shared thoughts. Not simple telepathy, but rather a link of consciousness that grew stronger every day.
Nyris, you have come to our aid. Sorahn thought, though the dragon could hear very clearly.
You seek the source of the voice? Came the reply in Sorahn’s head.
You heard it, too?
Yes, but perhaps only because of our bond. I believe it is coming from the west.
Rehnahlia simply watched and waited as Sorahn and the dragon seemingly just stared at each other. She knew better, however, because Sorahn had told her of their bond. There was hardly anything that Sorahn wouldn’t tell her.
I wish I could say the same…
* * *
But what could produce such a voice? How can a whisper carry for miles? And what does it mean?
I do not know. I know only that this is no normal voice. It could be a mental communication, produced by some foreign magic. We must be careful.
The great beast shifted his weight, causing his harness to clink. In the bright moonlight it was easy to see his bold aqua-colored scales glisten slightly. Even though he was relatively small, compared to other dragons, one still couldn’t help appreciating his beauty. There was an elegance to his power that was awesome to behold so close, simply because if one were to stand as close to any other dragon as Sorahn was to Nyris they would be in serious mortal peril.
Something is wrong with your mate.
Sorahn turned to see Rehnahlia deep in thought; a single tear rolling down her cheek.
“Rehnahlia, are you alright?” He said, earnestly concerned.
“Hmm?” She said as she looked up at him. “Oh yes, I’m alright. The wind blew something into my eye.” She quickly dried the fur on her cheek. Sorahn watched her for a moment before finally breaking the uncomfortable silence.
“Nyris believes we can find the source of the voice if we ride toward the west.”
“Well let’s be off then!” She replied in a perky voice. With this simple response she made her way toward the dragon. The leather harness and bracers Nyris wore creaked as he knelt to allow her to climb onto his back.
While Sorahn was definitely more suited to surveying a battlefield than something as complicated as emotions, he could still see that Rehnahlia was suppressing something that was very painful for her. He couldn’t stand to see her hurting but decided that now wasn’t the time to try to coax her into revealing what was bothering her. He would have to wait for a better time to talk about it. He was sure that she would tell him eventually, for over the almost two years they had known each other they had grown very close. They told each other everything.
“Well, aren’t you going to help me on? Some gentleman you are!” Rehnahlia called to him with a grin, pulling Sorahn out of his pensive state. He smiled back. “Begging your pardon, my lady.” He responded with his best mock-proper tone of voice and a low bow.
He made his way over to her and lifted her onto the dragon’s back, then gracefully leapt on in front of her. As soon as he took the reigns, which were more for stability than navigation, the dragon rocked back slightly and pushed off the ground. Rehnahlia let out a little squeal at the force and held on to Sorahn’s midriff tightly. There was a deep “whump” as Nyris beat his wings and they were sent soaring into the night air.
The cool night air felt good against Sorahn’s fur. Rehnahlia continued to hold on to him tightly for fear of falling off, but he was rather enjoying himself. He always loved flying mounted on Nyris. Being able to fly atop a winged beast was definitely a spectacular experience. So spectacular, in fact, that he had to remind himself why he was flying in the first place.
So what exactly are we looking for? Sorahn asked in his head after some time had passed peacefully flying.
I do not know. However I have a feeling that we will know it when we see it.
”Shekeles tehlkath sah Ronah manethaset.”
We are getting closer. Let us look beyond that ridge.
They tilted to the right as Nyris changed course for the small ridge formation. Below them all that could be seen was trees and various hills made by the mountains of Corone. Everything was brightly lit thanks to the brilliant moon. They glided over the ridge and Sorahn intently searched the trees below for any sign of something abnormal.
Do you see anything, Nyris?
No. Nothing unusual.
“What’s going on?”
Sorahn was so focused on scanning that he was startled to hear a voice from behind him. He turned to look at Rehnahlia, who did not appear to be very happy.
“We have been flying forever and you haven’t said a word. This wind is beginning to make me cold and I was wondering when we would be landing.”
Look to the east.
Sorahn, who had just opened his mouth to respond to Rehnahlia, instead turned to look where the dragon indicated. Because his link to the dragon extended far beyond just words, he had no trouble in locating what Nyris had mentioned. An eerie blue glow was shining from between the trees below.
“What is that?” Rehnahlia said what Sorahn was thinking.
With a “whump” from Nyris’s wings they were headed toward the mysterious light.
Be on your guard. Nyris advised as he prepared to land in a nearby clearing. The leaves in the trees shook as he beat his wings and landed smoothly in the grass. Sorahn leapt off and helped Rehnahlia down.
I will keep watch for you. Sorahn nodded to the dragon and turned toward the blue light. They walked into the trees, moving cautiously. Sorahn wasn’t sure of what type of magic could be going on here, but he could feel that this was the source of the voice. It felt almost as if the voice was in fact leading him here.
Rehnahlia followed close behind him as he slowly approached the source of the light. He pulled back the brush that was in the way and caught sight of what was emitting the light.
“What is that?”Sorahn whispered to himself and Rehnahlia. She leaned over his shoulder to get a better look.
In the side of a small hill there appeared to be a sort of wall, about 7 feet tall, carved out of rock and engraved with various markings and designs. In the middle of the wall was a glowing blue orb, with ornate carved decorations surrounding it.
Sorahn looked around but didn’t see anything else surrounding it. He pushed through the bush and slowly moved toward the wall. Rehnahlia looked on with concern, but decided to remain quiet. Sorahn looked at all the symbols on the wall. They seemed familiar somehow, but he couldn’t quite figure out why. Then suddenly he remembered.
“Rehnahlia, this is High Ranoan!” He said, still studying the writing. Rehnahlia moved a little closer.
“Are you able to tell what it means?” She asked.
“Well, I may be able to make out a few words. I’ll see what I can remember.” Sorahn continued to stare at the writing, thinking hard to remember what the words meant.
“I’m fairly certain this word means ‘Ranoa’.” He pointed to one of the symbols on the wall. “I also used to know what this word means but I cannot remember now.”
Rehnahlia looked at the words more closely but finally gave up. She came from a lower class than Sorahn and never had the time or the means to learn the ancient language. Meanwhile Sorahn bent down to examine the orb.
Sorahn stared at the orb, his eyes narrowed, trying to figure out what it was, or what it did. It appeared to be solid and glass-like. He touched it with his finger cautiously, and then placed his hand on it.
Suddenly all of the symbols and markings on the wall began to glow red.
Both of their eyes grew wide as they backed away. Apparently Sorahn had triggered something. Cracks began to form in the wall, but then Sorahn noticed that they were too smooth and straight to be stress cracks. His face changed from a look of shock and fear, to a look of confusion. He noticed that the cracks were forming in a regular pattern, sort of spiraling around the orb.
“… Should we take cover?” Rehnahlia said, fear evident in her voice.
“No… don’t move. We’ll be fine.” Sorahn said when in fact he didn’t know what was going to happen to them. He thought he might have triggered some sort of ancient magic and it was preparing to attack them. Still he seemed somehow less fearful than he was curious. He wanted to know what was going to happen, and he didn’t have to wait long.
The cracks finally terminated and separated. They formed several triangular pieces that spiraled around the orb in the center. The pieces parted and moved to the side, forming a circular opening into the hill.
Even after everything was still Sorahn and Rehnahlia didn’t move for a while. They simply stood in shock of what had just happened, and of what now lay before them.
Nyris heard Sorahn’s thoughts and discovered what happened.
The wall just opened? He asked Sorahn just to be sure he was not mistaken.
I believe it did. All I did was put my hand on the orb.
Are you going to go inside?
We have come this far.
Sorahn made his way toward the entrance, trying in vain to see into the darkness beyond.
“Sorahn, what are you doing?”
Sorahn turned to see the concerned face of Rehnahlia staring back at him. It was as if with a single look she was telling him that he shouldn’t even approach the opening for fear of traps.
“Rehnahlia, I have to go in there. This voice raises questions that must be answered. I can not simply leave right when we are on the verge of discovering its source.” Sorahn responded very plainly. Rehnahlia thought for a moment. Sorahn could tell from her expression that she knew he would not be swayed.
“Fine, but I’m staying out here.” She said to him with a determined look.
“But-“
“There is no way I am going to follow you into a dark cave in the side of a hill. Especially not when it is covered with odd symbols and emits a mysterious voice. No, I am staying right here. You can go ahead and come back for me.” With that Rehnahlia simply sat down on the ground.
Sorahn just smiled at her. “You’re cute when you’re angry.” She had grin at this. He always had a way of making her smile even when she was trying to be serious. She had to regain her composure and with effort managed to give Sorahn the determined look again.
Sorahn simply nodded in response. It was against his initial instinct, but he decided it was probably a better idea for him to investigate first anyway.
He turned his attention back toward the dark opening. He held out his hand and in it appeared a small, floating ball of light. As he approached the doorway, the light illuminated what lay beyond, revealing a staircase heading down underground. Well, here we go.
Slowly, Sorahn began descending the stairs leading deep into the ground.
Rehnahlia watched Sorahn disappear down the staircase, and then everything was still. She could hear the crickets chirping in the shrubs from where she sat under a large pine tree. Her plan to get him to leave her had worked.
You’re cute when you’re angry.
Rehnahlia thought about Sorahn. She smiled at the thought of all the things they’d done together over the two years they’d been together. She had grown to love little things about him, about the way he acted. He had a certain charm that she couldn’t get enough of. Plus it didn’t hurt that he was a Ranoan warrior. There was definitely something exciting in his deadliness, and she liked his muscle definition as well. Not to mention Ranoan warriors were the most respected and honored of all Ranoans.
She thought back to when they had first met that day she had landed on Althanas. He had taken her in so willingly and had been so nice to her. How could someone as nice as him end up with me?
She pulled her knees to her chest and stared at the doorway. She felt terrible. It was almost as if she could see Sorahn beyond the darkness. How could she lie to him? How could she betray him like this? She loved him. She longed to be in his arms. She couldn’t stand it when he was away.
I can’t do it. Not to him. She thought to herself. The battle raged in her head between what she had to do and her feelings for Sorahn. Back and forth she swung, from her lover to her obligations.
She put her head between her curled up knees, her soft sobs breaking the stillness of the night air. There she sat, a crying ball of white fur, for several minutes until she finally came to a decision.
You have to get a hold of yourself, Rehnahlia. You have no choice. You know what you have to do.
She stood and wiped the tears from her face. She had hoped it wouldn’t be this hard. The pain of it was overwhelming. But she just kept telling herself:
You know what you have to do.
Sorahn slowly proceeded down the staircase, using the light in his hand to pierce the darkness. He descended deep underground on stairs that appeared to be carved out of the rocky earth, but were very smooth. Ahead of him, he could see nothing but endless stairs leading into the black.
How deep does this go? He thought to himself as he continued to walk deeper underground. It seemed as though he had been descending the stairs for quite some time now. Do these stairs go on forever?
Almost as soon as he thought this, the final stair appeared and Sorahn stepped onto the landing. He now found himself in a vast room, enveloped in the same thick darkness.
“Hello?” He called. His voice echoed back several times, and Sorahn guessed the room must have been at least 100 yards long. He cautiously stepped forward, the orb in his hand enlightening only a radius of a few feet. He continued forward into the darkness until his light illuminated a small pedestal. He brushed off the layer of dust that covered the top, revealing more High Ranoan.
Sorahn sighed. Why didn’t I learn more of this language before I left Ranoa? He bent over and began trying to decipher the strange symbols, starting with the bold symbols on the top.
“Action… List… Code….” Sorahn stumbled. He shrugged and looked down at the next item. “What’s this?” He said to himself. ”Tahketh”
Suddenly blue lights along the edge of the room began to shine from the floor one by one, working their way around to the other side of the circular room. Slowly, more and more of the cavernous room was revealed by the blue glow. Then more lights shone from the 60 foot ceiling. Once all the lights had come to life, Sorahn could see that the room was massive, and right in the center stood a giant ring-like structure.
Sorahn’s eyes widened in amazement. This ring stood at least 40 feet tall and was covered in odd symbols. At the top, he recognized in bold letters the ancient word “RANOA”.
Returning his gaze to the pedestal, Sorahn recognized the next symbol as the word for “Start” or “Begin”. His mind racing with what could happen, he quickly shouted it aloud. “Rehlshahn!”
There was a loud humming as the floor began to vibrate. All the various symbols on the ring began to glow.
Sorahn ran up the stone staircase as fast as he could. He was completely overwhelmed with what he had just seen and had to tell Rehnahlia. When he finally reached the top of the long, winding staircase, he burst out of the cave entrance and into the night air. In his excitement he failed to notice that Rehnahlia was standing right in front of the cave, causing him to collide with her and tackle her to the ground.
“OOF! Sorahn! What are you doing?” She shouted as she tried to push him off of her.
Sorahn was breathless from running and startled by the abrupt stop. He struggled to his feet. “Cave… Ring… Ranoa…” He panted. Rehnahlia stood and brushed off the dirt marring her snow-white fur. “What are you talking about?” She said finally.
Finally Sorahn caught his breath and tried to collect himself before speaking. “There’s a cave down there. A huge room buried underground. In the middle is a huge ring that is actually an ancient portal to Ranoa!” He exclaimed, excitement obvious in his voice.
Rehnahlia’s eyes widened. “A… a portal?” She stammered. “That’s… wonderful! How did you start it?” She asked quickly.
“I found a pedestal with High Ranoan written on it.” Sorahn paused for a moment. “What were you doing standing in the doorway? I nearly killed you.”
She was startled by his question. “I… I was… coming to check on you. You were taking a long time and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Sorahn was too excited about the possibility of finally returning to Ranoa that he didn’t really hear her response. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside. “Come on! You have to come and see!”
Rehnahlia dropped the dagger into the grass as she was jerked down the staircase.
After yet another nearly endless procession of stairs, they found themselves in the majestic, dome-shaped cavern, with Rehnahlia’s wrist still clutched in Sorahn’s hand. She finally pulled herself free and gasped when she looked up.
Before them stood the giant ring, covered with symbols glowing red. Floating in the ring was a hazy picture of a city, filled with things never seen on Althanas. Buildings rose into the night sky, illuminated with lights of all colors. Furry creatures walked the streets. Technology that would bewilder an Althanian was commonplace. It was a picture of the heart of Ranoa, a central hub of activity: the capitol city.
“Cohr…” Sorahn whispered.
They both gazed into the portal in awe. Both of their minds were racing and neither could believe what was before them was real. It was the subject of so many dreams that this felt like simply another hopeless illusion.
“Can you believe it, Rehnahlia? This is our way back to Ranoa! After all these years marooned in a distant world, now is the time for us to finally return home!” Sorahn exclaimed.
Rehnahlia bit her lip. She looked up at Sorahn, gazing deep into his eyes. If only you knew, Sorahn. If only you knew what awaited you on the other side of that portal, you would never enter it. And yet I, your lover and most trusted companion, have no choice but to let you walk through it and face damnation. Why?
“Rehnahlia, are you alright? Are you… crying?” He said, looking concerned.
She felt terrible, but she had no choice. “I… I’m just so happy. I never thought we would make it back. I had lost hope.” The words stung her tongue as she spoke. Sorahn walked over to her and held her. There in his arms she felt both warm and cold, happiness and sadness, heaven and hell.
She looked up at him, into his dark blue eyes, and kissed him.
Sorahn held her kiss as long as he could. He loved Rehnahlia, and would like nothing better than to be with her forever. He wanted to ask her to be his mate, but was too nervous. Ranoans mate for life involving a ritual ceremony binding the couple’s souls together forever. The thought scared him, but in the back of his mind he knew they would be happy together. He thought perhaps once they returned to Ranoa, he could find the courage to ask her.
He turned toward the portal. Its hazy, liquid-like surface glowed slightly, inviting him to walk through it, and be instantly taken where he’d longed to go for the past 3 years. He found it almost funny how suddenly easy it was to attain something that had been impossible for so long. Ever since the moment he was brought here by the slave traders he had never stopped searching, hoping, longing for a way to get home. Now the way stood directly before him, and all he had to do was take a few simple steps.
He took Rehnahlia’s hand, and she smiled at him, tears still rolling down her cheek. Finally discovering the portal to Ranoa made him the happiest he’d probably ever been in his life, and enjoying this moment with her made it even better. Together they stepped toward the ring, toward a new life, toward hope.
Sorahn touched the surface. It felt odd and yet soothing on his hand. He couldn’t stand to prolong it any longer. He looked to Rehnahlia then jumped into the portal. He heard a loud “whump” and instantly felt himself being carried away. All time seemed to stand still as he was transported through the fabric of space. It was a feeling unlike any he’d ever felt.
It was then, flying through the very folds of reality, that he knew:
My story has only just begun…
~End of Prologue~
~Chapter I~
Sorahn flew out of the portal and landed flat on a concrete floor, stirring up dirt and dust all around him. Disoriented and a little bruised from the abrupt landing, he struggled to collect himself and sit up. He looked behind him and saw a portal exactly like the one he had just jumped into, except the setting had changed dramatically.
The massive ring-like portal provided light to what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse of sorts. A layer of dirt and dust covered the floor, cracks filled the ceiling, and the building was empty, save for the portal. The place had obviously been long forgotten for many years.
A loud “whump” echoed in the empty building as Rehnahlia soared from the portal. Sorahn looked up to see her small frame flying directly toward him. He could only watch in awe as she crashed into him, tackling him to the ground. She lay on top of him, panting to catch her breath. He looked down to see her head on his shoulder. “Hi…” she managed between breaths.
Sorahn just smiled. He didn’t think about how traveling such a massive distance in such a short time would affect their bodies. However, both of them seemed surprisingly free of injury or ill effects.
Once Rehnahlia had caught her breath she stood and tried to shake the dust out of her fur and hair. Sorahn did the same and began to search the building. It appeared the building was built simply for the purpose of housing the portal, but had fallen into disrepair. No one has used this portal for quite a while…
Finally, he found a door in the far corner and began to make his way over to it, his mind racing. Could it really be that on the other side of it laid Cohr, the capital city of Ranoa? The building itself did seem rather advanced for Althanas, even in it’s dilapidated state. The walls and ceiling were made of materials unseen on Althanas, though Sorahn was very familiar with them.
In his excitement he didn’t even realize he had broken into a run. He had to stop himself quickly to keep from running into the door. Trembling with anticipation, he reached for the handle and pulled it open.
Rehnahlia stood in the middle of the cavernous building and just watched Sorahn run through the door. A loud clang echoed several times in the vast room as the door shut behind him. And just like that, he’s gone.
She fell to her knees. Dust swirled around her before settling back on the dirty floor. On the verge of breaking down again, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small black device. It’s shiny surface gleamed in reflection of the glowing portal behind her. Clenching her teeth, she pressed a small button on the side and the device glowed a soft blue.
“We have arrived.” She spoke softly. The blue glow faded, leaving only the shiny black surface remaining. She clenched it as hard as she could in her hand, and then threw it across the room. A “clack” echoed back to her as the small device bounced off the concrete floor and skidded to a stop near the far wall.
She thought she would break down crying again. But the tears wouldn’t come. Maybe she simply couldn’t stand crying anymore. Maybe she had finally gotten over it. Or maybe she had cried so many tears that there weren’t any left. She felt as if all the life had been drained out of her. She looked back up at the door.
“I wish I could just run outside and tell you all this isn’t real. I wish we could go back to Althanas, become mates, settle down and live our lives. But it’s too late now. Soon you will know.”
She struggled to get to her feet. All energy had left her. She wanted to just lie down on the cold, dusty floor until she finally died. But she knew death would show her no such mercy. She turned to face door one last time, and could see Sorahn standing on the other side.
“Goodbye, Sorahn un’ Rohnahmeh. You have seen the last you will see of your lover. You will probably see my face again, but it will be the face of your enemy. You will see the object of the purest hatred you have ever known. Yet your hatred will be the deepest wound I will ever receive.”
She felt cold, both physically and emotionally. It was as if she had nothing left to feel. The world had been so cruel to her, and the hardest part was yet to come.
A clang rang out as the large door shut behind Sorahn. He didn’t notice, as he was completely awestruck with what now lay before him. A sight that had been so normal to him long ago was now amazing to him.
He found himself standing on a small street. A few other Ranoans were sauntering up and down the road, chatting idly with their companions. All around him stood massive buildings, maybe 50 stories tall. Each one was lit with a myriad of colors, making the city glow in the dark night. The buildings continued as far as the eye could see, connected by so many other streets and roads.
Suddenly a flying train flew past overhead. It was the mass transit of Cohr, and didn’t even faze the other Ranoans walking by, but to Sorahn who had spent years trapped on a planet that couldn’t even imagine such technology, it was awe-inspiring.
Sorahn had visited Cohr several times before, as his hometown of Tehlshahn lay not very far to the north. The atmosphere seemed familiar to him and yet so foreign now at the same time. He had adapted to the simple life of Althanas and had even grown to enjoy it. A big city with such advanced technology was a drastic change, and yet just being around other Ranoans again was comforting.
He couldn’t believe he was actually standing here, in the capital city of Ranoa. The excitement of it all was overwhelming. He couldn’t wait to simply re-immerse himself in Ranoan culture, to see his parents again, and start life anew. Or rather, return to the life he had left behind that day three years ago.
With a big smile on his face, Sorahn ran back inside the building. “Rehnahlia! You have to come see this! We’re finally home!” He shouted. His voice echoed back to him in the massive building, but no other voice followed. The broad smile on his face gave way to a puzzled look.
“Rehnahlia?” He called, searching for her by the light of the portal. It was pointless, however. The building was large, but totally empty. She couldn’t be hidden anywhere inside. It was obvious that she was no longer in the building. Perhaps she went outside without me noticing.
He turned and pulled open the door and ran outside, almost colliding with two Ranoans who were standing in front of it. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you there.” He said, apologetically. Upon looking at them, Sorahn figured they must have been Ranoan soldiers. They both wore identical dark red uniforms and carried pole weapons. He shrugged it off and began looking up and down the street for Rehnahlia.
“Sorahn un’ Rohnahmeh?”
Sorahn froze. Slowly he turned toward the soldier who addressed him. He had never seen him before in his life and even if he did, no one would remember him after disappearing for three years. “Yes… How do you know my name?” He responded, rather bewildered
The soldier chose to ignore his question. “The high emperor has requested your presence at the palace. We are to escort you there immediately.” Sorahn had almost forgotten about what Rehnahlia had told him about the fascist emperor who had taken command of Ranoa. She told him of the man’s wickedness, and of how he was turning Ranoa into a massive army to use in his conquest for power. He sounded like a man that Sorahn didn’t want to meet, and was actually rather stunned that such a man would have any interest in meeting him.
“Why would the emperor of Ranoa want to see me?” He asked, totally confused. The soldiers simply smiled at him. “You are a valued guest. He wishes to greet you.”
Sorahn could tell there was something very wrong with this situation. He wondered if his using the portal had sent a signal to the palace and they had sent men to welcome the newcomer. Still, he had a very bad feeling about these two men. Their smiles sent chills running through his spine. He tightened his grip on his spear. “And what if I refuse the emperor’s hospitality?” He asked, finally.
“Nonsense. We were instructed to offer the best accommodations. You are to be escorted in style.” The soldiers’ smirks were not comforting. Suddenly one of the soldiers swung his pole toward Sorahn’s stomach.
Suspecting the soldiers all along, Sorahn was prepared for attack. He blocked the blow and spun to deliver a kick to the soldier’s face. He felt his foot connect solidly with furry flesh and the soldier stumbled back, reeling, while his companion attacked. Sorahn quickly ducked under the pole that was coming toward his head like an avalanche. He moved to counter by stabbing toward his assailant with his spear, but his attack was dodged by the highly trained Ranoan soldier.
By now the first soldier had regained his balance and swung his pole at Sorahn’s back. Instinctively he leapt sideways to avoid the attack, but while he was off balance, the second soldier delivered a solid kick to his gut. With the wind totally knocked out of him, he fell to the ground.
Immediately, the soldiers bound Sorahn’s hands behind his back with leather straps. They bound his ankles together the same way. Then, with an evil smirk on their faces, they produced a menacing looking black leather muzzle. Sorahn’s eyes widened as they roughly pulled the muzzle over his nose and mouth and buckled it tightly.
He was completely shocked at what had just happened. Totally helpless, he simply lay on the street looking up at the Ranoan soldiers. Their smirking faces were the last things he saw before they pulled a black bag over his head.
The two soldiers grabbed Sorahn’s upper-arms and lifted him up. They proceeded to half carry; half drag him through the streets. He struggled and fought against his bonds, but to no avail. He was tightly secured. The muzzle forcefully held his mouth shut, preventing any sort of protest. Finally he resigned himself to his fate, whatever it may be.
The black bag prevented any sort of sight. It was made of a thick canvas and totally blocked out all light, leaving him in total darkness to wonder about where they were taking him. He could feel them turn left and right, and the concrete under his dragging feet told him they were still in the city.
Their journey seemed to last hours. He figured the soldiers must have been getting tired from carrying him so far. But then again they were Ranoan soldiers: expertly trained and in peak physical condition. Then the thought donned on him that it might have only been minutes. He had no concept of time within the confines of the hood except for the endless repetitive footsteps of his captors.
Finally he felt the ground sort of hit against his feet over and over. The soldiers seemed to be pulling harder, so Sorahn could only guess they were going up stairs. Not long after, he heard the creak of a massive door and the rough concrete under his feet gave way to a much smoother, slick floor. A few seconds later the soldiers roughly pushed him down onto his knees and pulled the bag sharply from his head.
He had to squint as his eyes adjusted to the newfound light of the room. Slowly details began to emerge. The whole room was white. He couldn’t make much out. The white soon gave way to marble. He was kneeling on the marble floor of a huge room, surrounded by large columns, which were set about ten feet in front of a marble wall. Lavish tapestries hung on the walls and each column was lit with an ornate sconce. Suddenly he heard a sort of maniacal laughter that brought his focus directly in front of him.
Sitting on a large gold throne, flanked by huge dark red tapestries emblazoned with a gold symbol of Ranoa, was a lone, smirking Ranoan. He wore dark red pants made of the finest Ranoan silk. His lack of upper body clothing flaunted his traditional markings, all of which touted his rank and superiority. There was no doubt this was the so-called Emperor of Ranoa. Sorahn’s eyes narrowed in disgust.
The high ruler sort of chuckled to himself as he stood and began walking toward Sorahn.
“Sorahn un’ Rohnahmeh! At last we finally meet!”
The high ruler sauntered toward Sorahn, a satisfied smirk on his face. “I couldn’t have hoped for a more picturesque meeting. However you seem a bit… shorter than I imagined.” It was clear the emperor was reveling in his superiority. His twisted grin only grew larger as he examined the tight straps around Sorahn’s hands and feet and the muzzle on his face. “I see you have already enjoyed the hospitality of my welcome party. They are my personal guards: a special unit of the Ranoan army I have amassed since taking power.”
Sorahn simply stared defiantly at the ruler. He had already hated the man since hearing of what he had done to Ranoa and how he treated his people. But now, after seeing first hand his arrogant, self-absorbed attitude, he was disgusted with him. Such a man is not worthy of ruling our people. This man is Garen, multiplied a thousand fold. The thought of being bound and helpless before a larger, more powerful version of his former master infuriated him.
The emperor merely laughed. “It seems that muzzle serves as no hindrance in expressing how you feel about me. I can see your hatred. The fire in your eyes tells me all I need to know.” He stopped and looked at Sorahn for a moment. “Such anger toward me, and you don’t even know why yet.”
Confusion replaced the look of anger on Sorahn’s face. The emperor roared with laughter. “Yes! You have no clue! Here you are, kneeling before the new emperor of your planet, simply wondering why I’ve brought you here. To you, I’m nothing more than a passing thought. Someone you might read about in a newspaper. But I’ve known who you were long before you even knew I existed. You were my obsession, and I wanted nothing more than to get you out of my way. But now I have you.”
The emperor knelt down in front of Sorahn and looked right in his eyes. “Yes, I finally have you.” He said softly, grabbing Sorahn’s chin. “After all these years, I can finally see your face. You are mine to do with as I please. And you have no idea how it happened. You have no idea why you hate me. You have no idea what happened that night, three years ago…” He leaned over and whispered into Sorahn’s ear.
“It was me…”
The words echoed in Sorahn’s ears. He just knelt there, trying to comprehend what the emperor had just said. Meanwhile the devilish smirk returned to the emperor’s face as he saw Sorahn lost in thought.
“Guards, I believe we can do without the muzzle now. I have a feeling our guest has a few questions he wishes to ask me.” He said, casually. Quickly the guards unbuckled the straps that tightly held Sorahn’s mouth shut. They slid the muzzle off, and Sorahn stretched his jaw, reveling in his newfound freedom.
The emperor waved the guards out of the room and turned his attention back to his prisoner. “Yes, Sorahn. It was me. I was the one who ordered the thugs to kidnap you three years ago. I was the one who sent you to Althanas. It was all my doing.”
Sorahn couldn’t believe it. He slowly looked up into the face of his captor. “How?” He said finally. This caused the emperor to roar with laughter. “It was a simple matter of paying the right people, that’s all. All I had to do was hire some mercenaries to act as ‘slave traders’ and abduct you in the night. They took you on their ship where you were ‘sold’ to Garen, another man working for me. After a simple re-enactment of an ancient ritual, you were putty in his hands, and out of my way.”
“Re-enactment?” Sorahn repeated, simply.
The emperor scoffed. “Surely you didn’t think some pitiful human could perform such an ancient and terrible ritual. No, only the most powerful Ranoan magi could conjure such a spell. But we didn’t need the real thing, now did we? All we had to do was get you to think you were bound under his control and the same effect was produced.”
Sorahn wanted to hit something. He couldn’t believe that he spent months under the control of that arrogant bastard when he could’ve killed him at any second without any repercussions. What angered him the most was his own blind obedience. Never once did he question the power of the ritual, and all along it was never even performed.
The emperor could see the anger beginning to swell inside Sorahn. This only made him smile more, because he knew this was just the tip of the iceberg. He knew that by the end of the night Sorahn would experience anger the likes of which he had never felt before, and the emperor would love every minute of it.
Sorahn struggled to accept the fact that he was played so easily. Everything that happened to him was perfectly orchestrated and he didn’t have the faintest idea.
“But I killed Garen!” He blurted out in a feeble attempt to redeem himself.
“Ah yes, that you did; you and your little shape shifter friend. And so what? What did you accomplish? You were still stuck on a primitive planet with no way of returning home, slave or not didn’t matter.”
The emperor’s eyes narrowed. “However, in killing Garen you did do away with my only means of keeping track of your dealings. I couldn’t very well have you finding a ship or some other means of returning home, a problem that was too easily remedied. I simply had to place another spy in your immediate area to report to me.”
The emperor grinned evilly. “Rehnahlia.” He said softly.
Her name felt like a knife plunged into Sorahn’s chest. “No. It couldn’t be. Rehnahlia loved me, and I loved her. She wouldn’t have…” Sorahn began, but cut himself off. The realization finally hit him. She had been using him the whole time. Everything she had said to him was a lie, formulated to move herself closer to him in order to obtain information. “No…”
The emperor’s grin never faded. “She was quite the actress, I must say. The way she wound you around her little finger was artful. It was all too easy to obtain any information I needed from you, since you told everything to her.”
“No!” Sorahn didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t. Rehnahlia was his soul mate. He simply couldn’t accept that she was a traitor. “She wouldn’t do that to me. You’re lying!”
“Am I?” The emperor replied, coolly. “Then how can you explain her showing up on Althanas immediately after you killed Garen, in the same slave trader ship that I used to transport you there? Isn’t it a little too convenient that you happened to be walking by at the very moment they pulled her off the ship?” He paused for a moment. “How do you think I knew you came through the portal?” He said, grinning. “I myself thought the plan was completely obvious, but I overestimated you. You fell for it without a doubt in your mind.”
There was no denying it. Rehnahlia had betrayed him. All the memories of his relationship with her played in his head. The entire time he thought he was getting close to her, she was just using him. He had never felt so cheated in his life.
If I ever see her again, I’m going to kill her with my bare hands.
Sorahn felt like he had nothing left. Everything was a lie. All the while he had thought he was gaining strength and living his life, he was simply the emperor’s rag doll, to be played with for his twisted amusement. Or at least that was the most motivation he could gather from the man standing before him: the man who to Sorahn more closely represented evil incarnate than the devil himself.
He felt so manipulated that he wondered what in his life on Althanas was actually real. He began to doubt the Red Hand, Ithermoss, Nyvahriseth, even his best friend Koran. There was no logical reason for the emperor to have faked them as well, but logic failed Sorahn. For all he knew they were all just parts of the emperor’s plan.
He had to force himself not to let the doubt consume him. The people he met and things he did were real and they did happen, regardless of whether or not the emperor had planned them. They still were part of his life and helped him become what he was and nothing would change that. This thought alone kept Sorahn from slipping into madness.
The emperor seemed content with his manipulation of Sorahn’s emotions. He gained a sick enjoyment out of watching him mentally suffer. His smug expression only intensified as he watched Sorahn. His captive’s despair was so strong he could almost feel it, and he fed off of it. There was nothing he enjoyed more than the feeling of power over another by manipulating them.
Sorahn was lost in thought. He said nothing for several minutes as he tried to regain his hold on reality. But he was overcome with an intense despondency that was telling him that his life was meaningless. He had accomplished nothing before he left Ranoa and he had accomplished nothing after. But as always seemed to happen to Sorahn, his sadness for his situation soon turned to anger to those who caused it. He suddenly felt an intense rage toward the emperor. He had always loathed him, but now his hatred was accompanied by an indescribable fury that made him want to rip the emperor apart. “I’m going to kill you.” He said rather calmly, though the anger still showed in his voice.”
This made the emperor chuckle again. “How? You’re bound and helpless on your knees before me! You aren’t in any position to start making threats.”
“One way or another you will die by my hands. This I promise you.”
The emperor was actually slightly intimidated by Sorahn’s statement. There was something about Sorahn’s voice and his certainty that shook him. But the feeling was fleeting. He still felt powerful and in control. He enjoyed this anger just as much as the despair, especially since Sorahn was bound and could do nothing to act on it. It’s not that he was afraid of Sorahn in the least bit; he was too arrogant for that. But rather he enjoyed that feeling of power: the feeling that he had his enemy right where he wanted them and had complete control over them.
Sorahn was confident that he would eventually kill the emperor. He had such an intense hatred for him that he knew he wouldn’t rest until one of them was dead. One question still plagued him though. After all this explanation and revealing the master plan, he still couldn’t deduce any sort of motive from the emperor. He was the most powerful person on Ranoa. He had everything he wanted. Why did he focus so much of his time and effort into manipulating him? He mentioned several times that he wanted me “out of the way”, but why? Surely he doesn’t see me as a threat. Finally he decided to simply ask him. What did he have to lose?
“Why are you doing all of this to me? Why spend all this time and energy on me? I’m not a threat to you.”
The emperor’s expression instantly changed from one of smug contentment to bitter resentment. He bent over and looked Sorahn straight in the eye for a moment.
“I think we’ve had enough of our question and answer session.” He said finally. As if on cue, a guard appeared behind Sorahn and roughly pulled the muzzle back over his nose and mouth, buckling the straps even tighter than before. Sorahn simply stared intensely at the emperor; his eyes seemed to be on fire. The emperor grinned and casually turned around and began walking back toward his throne.
“Sorahn un’ Rohnahmeh is guilty of high treason.” He said calmly as he walked. “He is to be taken to the palace prison and placed under maximum security until further notice.” He stopped and glanced over his shoulder.
“Treat him to some of our famous hospitality. He is an honored guest, after all.”
~End of Chapter I~
~Chapter II~
The cool night air felt good against Sorahn’s warm fur. He pulled his robe a little tighter as he walked out the door and began walking back toward his home. He was looking forward to a hot bath and much needed sleep after the rigorous training he’d been doing for most of the day. Master Rahnseth had insisted he stay late to work on his blocking and counterattacks. He could feel his muscles aching already, and dreaded how they would feel in the morning.
He turned the corner and started walking down the familiar street he walked every day to his training sessions. His mind began to wander as he methodically strolled down the street. He didn’t realize how late it actually was until he noticed no one else was out. Everyone was at home in bed, where he longed to be.
Suddenly he heard a rustle in the nearby bushes. He stopped dead, his tired senses becoming very alert. It must be some animal or something. He reassured himself, yet he couldn’t begin walking again. His eyes were fixed on the bushes. Master’s training has made me paranoid. He chuckled to himself and slowly resumed walking.
An arm quickly reached out from behind him and tried to grab him. Instinctively, Sorahn quickly ducked and twisted in an odd disarming move that he was taught years ago. As soon as he was free from the stranger’s grasp he spun and kicked his attacker’s face. He felt the satisfying feeling of his foot pounding against flesh. The satisfaction was short-lived, as suddenly he felt the sharp pain of another kick straight to his gut. He had just enough time to turn to see the face of another attacker before a fist connected with his face, putting him flat on the concrete.
A third man produced a coil of rope, which he began winding around Sorahn’s wrists and ankles, while the other two held him down. Sorahn spit the blood out of his mouth and yelled, “What the hell is this?” A fourth man emerged from the shadows with an evil smirk on his face. “You’re going on a little trip, Mr. Rohnahmeh.” “Who are you, and how do you know my name?” Sorahn yelled in response.
The figure merely smiled as he saw his associates had finished their work. “Take him to the ship.” He commanded, and merely watched as they lifted Sorahn’s bound body and carried him off to a small transport ship that had been hidden amongst the trees nearby. They opened the cargo door and literally threw him inside. He landed hard on the metal floor with a loud thud. This made the grunts chuckle.
The fourth man, who was obviously in charge, looked in at Sorahn with the same smirk. “Hopefully I will never see you again. Have a nice life, slave.” With that the door slammed shut.
Sorahn suddenly woke up, horrified. It was a nightmare that he had often had since that day three years ago. He shuddered at the thought that his worst nightmare was one that actually happened. Of course, he hadn’t known at the time that the man who was smirking worked for who was now the Ranoan emperor.
The chains clinked softly as he shifted his position. He was sitting on the floor of a dark cell with his back against the cold concrete wall. The guards had chained his wrists behind him and his ankles together then both were attached to the wall. Most would find this overkill since he was already locked into a very small cell made of solid concrete, but maximum security meant maximum security. The Ranoan military wasn’t going to risk any sort of escape by any prisoner.
Sorahn wished they had at least left his robe on him, but they had taken that as well as his spear and even the books he had in his pockets, and burnt them. He watched the flames consume his work, his trusted weapon, even his very dignity. The emperor made sure he represented the epitome of slave-hood: dirty and possessionless, wearing nothing but tattered pants.
He had no idea how long he had been sitting in that cell. He guessed at least a day or two. His stomach rumbled with hunger, but the muzzle still tightly fastened to his head didn’t even allow him to open his mouth, let alone eat any food, if any had been given to him. Prisoners who committed treason were below such ideas as food. Sorahn figured he would receive some eventually, as he knew the jailors preferred keeping him alive to torment him rather than let him die of starvation.
That last word “slave” kept echoing in his head. The coils of rope the men had wrapped around his hands and feet hadn’t come off to this day. Even when he thought he was finally free, when he had killed Garen, his “master”, and gone to live his own life on Althanas, he was still a slave. He had always been a slave to the emperor, manipulated to his every whim. And judging from his current situation, it appeared he would always be a slave. He was beginning to not care anymore.
He knew that was the emperor’s plan: to break him. He wanted Sorahn to lose all hope of freedom and resign himself to his fate, making him much more manageable. But sitting in that cell had given him plenty of time to think about his life. He was considering the possibility that he was destined to be a slave, and there wasn’t anything he could do to change that. Just when he thought he was free and living his life, it was all ripped away from him. He was beginning to think it was better to simply live the life of a slave than to attempt the life of a man only to fall again, and endure the pain of having his world torn apart.
Suddenly the heavy metal door creaked open. Sorahn squinted against the flood of light that now entered the cell. “Time for you to have a sample of our famous hospitality,” said a gruff figure standing in the doorway.
((Warning: This post is rated PG-13 for mild depictions of torture.))
Several guards drug Sorahn down the corridor of cells to a room at the end of the hall. They lifted him up and threw him face down onto a table in the middle of the room. It was becoming obvious just what kind of “hospitality” this prison was known for.
One guard used a small length of chain to attach Sorahn’s ankles to his wrists, pulling his feet near his back. He squirmed a little only to find this position offered him very little movement at all. He could hear the guards doing something behind him, but couldn’t turn his head far enough to see them. The anticipation of something terribly painful was making him anxious. He pictured various instruments of torture, each one worse than the one before.
More time passed. He thought he would go insane just waiting for them to do something to him. Finally a guard stepped into his view. With a knowing smirk, he grabbed Sorahn’s muzzled face with both hands, holding his head still. Sorahn simply stared at him for a moment, until suddenly he felt a sharp pain near the tip of his left ear as another guard pushed a large needle through it. He winced and let out a yelp, which was effectively muffled by his muzzle.
The guard, knowing how sensitive the fleshy inner part of a Ranoan ear was, twisted the needle a little for added effect, before finally removing it, allowing a small trickle of blood to drip onto Sorahn’s back. He then inserted an earring into the hole. Just as Sorahn was recovering from the shock, he repeated the same procedure on his right ear, causing another muffled yelp.
Sorahn had no idea how painful it could be to pierce his ear in the wrong place. He had already had a piercing, on the rim of his ear near the base where it doesn’t hurt much. But as painful as it was, the guards weren’t done yet. They attached chains to the earrings, and pulled them tight to connect them to the chains around his ankles. This pulled his head back and made his back arch, putting tremendous pressure on the sensitive piercings. He had to grit his teeth to keep from screaming.
Satisfied with their work, the guards proceeded back behind him to gather more equipment. Sorahn didn’t dare try and turn his head this time. However it wasn’t long before the guards returned, and began clipping small wires to various parts of his body. Sorahn didn’t notice much, as he concentrated on keeping his head from turning and pulling on either ear. Soon he realized that his ears were the least of his worries, as a large switch was thrown and high voltage electricity began surging through his body.
He finally let out a muffled scream, as the guards watched him writhe with satisfied looks on their faces.
“NO! STOP!”
Rehnahlia screamed as she watched the guards torment Sorahn through a one-way window. She could see the pain on his face, and almost feel the electricity surging through his body. It was horrifying.
“You’re going to kill him!”
The emperor merely grinned evilly, as he observed Sorahn’s torture with rapt fascination. “The voltage isn’t quite high enough.” He said quietly, almost as if talking to himself. “No, Sorahn won’t die until I want him to.”
“You sick, sadistic bastard! Why punish him? He has done nothing to you!”
The grin left the emperor’s face. “I’d advise you to hold your tongue. YOU are the reason he is there in the first place.”
Rehnahlia’s eyes grew wide. She turned and looked at the emperor, terrified. “How… What do you mean?” She managed.
The emperor was suddenly infuriated. “You disobeyed a simple order! I told you to kill him. I warned you that he must never make it to Ranoa. If he even so much as smelled that portal you were to make sure it would be his last breath! Not only did he smell it, see it, even activate it, he went through it! So it was YOU who put him on that table and tortured him, the very moment you dropped that dagger.”
“Then torture me! I am the one who disobeyed, not Sorahn. I should be in his place. There is no honor in punishing an innocent man.” Rehnahlia responded, franticly.
“Oh don’t you see? I am punishing you right now. Why do you think I made you come here? Your punishment is to watch the man that you love tormented as a result of your actions.” The emperor said, the evil grin returning.
Rehnahlia was speechless. She could only stare at the emperor, horrified.
He chuckled. “Oh yes, I know. I know how much you love him. I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it radiating off of you, it is so intense.”
“It was an act. I pretended to love him.” She said shakily, averting her eyes.
He laughed loudly. “You are a great actress my dear, but you give yourself too much credit. That performance was not based on your skill.” He paused, turning back to look at Sorahn. “It’s a shame, too. If you could’ve controlled your emotions, maybe you would have done your job instead of hesitating at the moment of decision. Perhaps now you will learn that THIS is what comes of love!” He pointed at Sorahn’s writhing body, then quickly turned and left the room.
“What have I done?” Rehnahlia whispered as she gazed longingly at Sorahn through the thick glass, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Sorahn….”
Rehnahlia couldn’t sleep. The image of Sorahn’s torture was burned in her mind. She couldn’t stop thinking him and all the pain she had caused him. She knew everything that was happening was her fault, but she knew she just couldn’t have killed him. It would’ve been easier for her to kill herself than willingly shed Sorahn’s blood. She wanted to trade places with him so badly. The physical pain would be so much easier to endure. This was driving her mad.
It was painful to lie in a royal palace bed when Sorahn was sitting in the royal palace dungeon. She felt like the concrete walls and chains would fit her better than a silk bed. Finally she had to get up out of it. She walked to the window and peered down at the prison building. The moon was shining brightly, illuminating everything with a cool shimmer. It was as if she could look through the walls, down to the basement level. She could see the long halls, the dozing guards, the heavy iron door, the dark cell behind it. She could almost see him, sitting in the cell, cold, trying to sleep.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to just stab him and report back. That was the plan. It was so simple. And she would be sleeping comfortably in that silk bed with nothing on her mind other than a job well done. She wasn’t supposed to gaze longingly at the prison. She wasn’t supposed to regret everything that she had done. She wasn’t supposed to love him.
Why! Why did this happen? We were supposed to be living happily together in Corone! She thought as tears finally began to well up in her eyes. “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT ME, SORAHN!” She shouted out the window. Her words echoed off the high palace walls. “You were supposed to protect me….” She whispered again as she slumped down to the floor, unable to control the tears anymore.
Of course she saw the irony of Sorahn protecting her. It almost made her chuckle, until she realized that Sorahn was willing to die protecting her. She remembered how romantic she thought it was when he told her. Over the years they had been together she had almost forgotten all about her duties. She just wanted to live her life with Sorahn, on a distant, beautiful planet, away from all other worries. They would be so happy together. Once they finally reached that cave in the forest, it was like the grim reality of their relationship washed over her, and she knew what was going to happen.
I have to see him. I have to at least talk to him. Maybe I can comfort him a little. Maybe I can keep myself from going insane. She leapt up and got dressed. Opening the door a little to see if anyone was around, she slipped out quietly and disappeared down the hall.
Sorahn sat quietly in the corner of the dark cell. He was finding it difficult to get to sleep. The steel earrings were still hanging heavily in the bloody holes in his ears. Added to this pain was a dull ache he felt throughout his body as it tried to recover from the intense electric current that surged through him for what seemed like an eternity.
The only upside to this was the ache seemed to overshadow any feeling from the scrapes on his arms and showing through tears in his pants. He had discovered that the guards rather enjoyed throwing him into the cell. The resulting impact with the dirty concrete floor had caused a few nasty scratches and bruises. At least they fit in well with my overall slave appearance. He thought to himself. He was only half-joking, which disturbed him.
The short chains tethering his hands and feet to the wall prevented him from changing his position at all. This discomfort, combined with the leftover pain of his torture, was effectively making any sleep impossible. Instead he was forced to just lean against the wall, thinking about his life and all that had happened.
He didn’t want to think about it anymore, but the thoughts always crept into his head. He had nothing to do but think, and nothing to think about but slavery. He was sick of hearing that word in his head, but it defined his whole existence. He never felt more like a slave than he did now, a fact that bothered him less and less. Whatever the emperor was doing to him, it was working.
Suddenly he heard the creak of the heavy bar on the door sliding open. He looked up, curious. Normally at this time of night the guards were all asleep. He stared at the door as it slowly swung open. He squinted at the light, trying to make out the silhouette that now stood in the doorway. The figure closed the door behind it; something Sorahn thought was very odd.
Finally his eyes readjusted themselves to the darkness of the cell and he made out the face of Rehnahlia. Instantly his face turned from a look of curiosity to a look of disgust and loathing.
Rehnahlia winced when she saw Sorahn’s face. As she had guessed, her former lover was none too happy to see her. Still she searched his face for a tiny trace of the caring he had once shown her behind all of the hatred. Instead, all she saw was a look that told her she had trespassed into his territory. She almost started to cry.
Sorahn hoped that Rehnahlia would be dumb enough to remove the chains that bound his hands and feet. After what she had done to him, he longed for the pleasure of killing her with his bare hands.
Rehnahlia fought to regain her composure. Sorahn had every right to be mad at her, but maybe she could talk to him and explain how she felt. She could only cling to the hope that she might find some forgiveness in him. She took a deep breath.
“I…” She stumbled, trying to decide on how to phrase her intent. “I just came to talk to you.” He simply stared at her, his eyes boring holes into her very soul. She shuddered, and her eyes dropped from his gaze down to the rough leather muzzle, which forcibly sealed his mouth. It was almost unbearable to see him like this; blameless, yet still chained up like a criminal.
Very slowly, she leaned toward him, her arm reaching behind his head for the buckle. She found it and carefully loosed it, releasing the tension from the think leather straps. Slowly she pulled the muzzle from his face, revealing matted fur, as well as the bold black mark of a warrior on his left cheek. The stiff leather creaked in her hand as she set it on the cold floor.
Sorahn stretched his jaw, feeling the muscles flex and extend in their newfound freedom. He had forgotten what his bare face felt like. The air caressed the short fur of his nose and chin. Once he had finally regained the feeling in his mouth, he looked back up to Rehnahlia.
“You have a lot of nerve coming here.” He said flatly.
“I know, Sorahn.” She said, resigned. “I know you hate me, and you have every right to. But I had to come see you. I had to talk to you, and at least try to explain myself,” She paused, avoiding his gaze, “and how I feel about you.”
Sorahn snorted. “Then by all means, speak. I’ve no choice but to listen. But everything you’ve said to me thus far has been a lie, so why should this be any different?”
Rehnahlia winced. There was nothing but truth in his words. She looked at the floor, but could still feel his piercing gaze on her. “I don’t have an answer for you. The word of a liar means nothing, but it’s all I have to offer. You will have to determine for yourself what to believe.”
Sorahn’s eyes narrowed. He had never seen Rehnahlia like this before. She looked weary and broken, like someone who was desperate and at the end of her strength. Strangely, he identified with her. His expression softened slightly. He wasn’t sure if he believed her, but he was definitely more interested in what she had to say.
“Alright.” He said simply, but his voice was slightly less stern. She looked up at him, surprised at his sudden change of tone. His eyes still burned with fury, and she had trouble speaking.
“Sorahn…” She began with difficulty. “I am an assassin. I’ve worked for the emperor for a few years now. When Garen was killed, the emperor came to me with the task of watching you. I thought he was paranoid to need someone to guard a person on a distant planet, but there is no questioning the emperor. So I practiced my acting skills and prepared to be sent to Althanas under the guise of a slave. Everything went according to the plan. You found me and took me in, just as expected. I was to use my communicator to report to the emperor every now and then. The emperor wanted to keep you alive, but I was told to kill you should you stumble upon anything that might lead you back to Ranoa.”
She paused and took a deep breath.
“But you were too damned nice to me!” She said in frustration. “I grew fond of seeing you and the time we spent together. I enjoyed your personality and became attracted to you, physically. As time wore on I began to forget about my mission, and started to see Althanas as a new life. I was happier than I had ever been, and that was all that mattered. I foolishly believed that it would last forever; that I would never have to worry about carrying out the mission and we could go on living together on Althanas.”
She suddenly looked Sorahn straight in the eye. “Everything I felt about you was real! I meant every word I said to you! The person you know is the real me, more so than some assassin. If you believe nothing else I tell you, believe this.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but her face was determined.
“I love you.”
Sorahn was surprised at her sudden brevity and earnestness. His emotions all blended together in his head, and he couldn’t make heads or tails of any of them. It was…real…. The idea of something he felt being real was comforting. A rush of happiness flooded over him as he thought about their time spent together, knowing it all meant just as much now as it always had. The thought crossed his mind that she could still be lying, but as he looked in her sorrowful eyes, he doubted it was possible. He tried to say something to her, but words failed to form, so he remained quiet.
Rehnahlia paused to take a deep breath and looked away from Sorahn again. It was easier for her to speak without having to look at his face.
“Years passed and nothing bad ever happened, so I continued with my fantasy of living without worry, until that night. When we heard the voice, somehow I knew where it was coming from. I suddenly realized what was going to happen, and it frightened me. Then we found the portal…”
Suddenly tears began streaming down her face again. “I… I was going to kill you. I had the dagger in my hand. I was… on my way down the stairs to stab you when you ran into me and knocked it out of my hand. It was then, when I saw you, that I knew I couldn’t do it. But I turned out to be a coward anyway.”
Sorahn looked at her with a confused look.
“Sorahn, I called them. The men who came and jumped you only knew you were there because of me.” She stopped, unable to say any more.
Sorahn just looked away for a moment lost in thought. After a long silence he finally spoke. “Why did you do it?”
Rehnahlia was startled by his question. She had to stop and think for a moment. “I guess… fear. I was afraid of what the emperor would do to me. I already didn’t kill you like I was supposed to, I was afraid he would hunt us down and kill both of us if I didn’t at least report to him. Sorahn, I’m sorry, but I –“
“Kahsheth.” Sorahn spat, cutting her off. The word hissed out of his mouth like filth. She stared at him, wide eyed. He stared right back, his eyes narrow and angry. She was totally speechless.
Kahsheth was a captain in the Ranoan militia in ages past who divulged secret battle plans to the opposing side in a massive civil war against insurgents, costing hundreds, possibly thousands of Ranoan lives. His treachery was discovered and he was found and executed after the conclusion of the war. Since then, his name has been the most grave insult one Ranoan could ever call another. The Ranoans are a proud and honorable race, and being called a Kahsheth the highest possible dishonor. Peace-loving men have killed other men for being wrongly accused, which is perfectly legal under Ranoan law.
Rehnahlia’s jaw hung slightly open. She wanted to defend herself. But deep down she knew he was right, she had betrayed him. Still she had to defend her honor. “Now listen, Sorahn –“
“I trusted you.” He said, his eyes narrow with a renewed fire. “I took you into my home. I provided for you. I deeply loved you. You were the one person who I could always talk to about anything. I would have gladly died to protect you from anyone. And you betrayed me, and lead me to this prison where I face torture and starvation. I am nothing but a lowly slave, but you… you are far beneath even me.” He paused, bearing his teeth in anger. “Kahsheth.” He hissed again. The word sounded disgusting as it rolled off his tongue.
Still more tears slowly welled up in Rehnahlia’s eyes. She couldn’t speak. She just stared at Sorahn, the loathing in his face was so strong it burned. She couldn’t stand to be in the same room with him any longer. She suddenly leapt at him and slammed the muzzle on his face, tightly buckling the strap within a second, and ran out the heavy door, slamming it and locking it on her way out.
She ran down the hall past sleeping guards, no longer caring if they saw her, with the word still echoing loudly in her head.
“Kahsheth.”
Anger burned in Sorahn’s mind like a wildfire. He had gained a small bit of hope and happiness for a fleeting moment when Rehnahlia told him it was all real, but he knew that no one who loved someone deeply could betray the person they loved and send him to this fate so easily. He knew that she was either lying or had a skewed definition of love. Either way the fact remained that she was a traitor, and he was paying the price for her treachery.
Her story only fed the fire of loathing that was already burning inside him. But somehow, through all of the hatred, there still shone a tiny glimmer of something else. Doubt, hope, love, he wasn’t sure what it was. But her story had affected him in some strange way. He knew there was something genuine about the way she spoke. He was confused by his own emotions, and blinded by his rage. He needed someone to confide in, someone to help him sort everything out. But the worst part of his current situation was the terrible loneliness.
Do not forget me, master.
Sorahn jumped at the voice that had entered his head. Suddenly he remembered. Nyris? You can still communicate with me this far away?
Bonds such as ours know nothing of the limits of the physical realm.
It was comforting to hear Nyris’s familiar “voice”, and usual cryptic yet wise responses. In all of his misery and thoughts about his life he had forgotten about the one who truly knew him best, sharing his very thoughts. How have you been, since I left?
I have not slept for days. Your pain and sadness radiates through me.
The bond between him and his dragon appeared to be growing stronger. It was clear they could now feel each other’s emotions. He could feel Nyris’s weariness, like a mirror reflecting his own depression back to him. Sorahn was curious as to just how strong their bond had become, and how long he had been ignoring it.
Nyris, I don’t know what to make of all this. Everything that’s happened… I don’t know what’s real anymore. And Rehnahlia remains an enigma to me. I don’t know her motives or how she feels. She tried to tell me but I can’t trust her anymore.
Why do you insist on wallowing in your sorrow?
Sorahn didn’t expect this from Nyris. He wasn’t sure how to respond. What do you mean?
Your mate hurt you deeply. She betrayed you. That is something that is very painful and difficult to recover from, but you need not prolong your suffering by continuing to dwell on the pain. Distance yourself from her and continue living your own life.
… It’s not that simple, Nyris.
Yes it is, unless you still love her.
Nyris’s words penetrated deep into Sorahn’s mind. Maybe he did still care for her. The only reason he was still trying to understand Rehnahlia was he believed he could still love her. Yet at the same time he felt like he could never forgive her for what she did. Her treachery was beyond mere mistakes that could easily be forgiven.
Even if I did forgive her she would never take me back now. Not after what I said to her. It’s probably best to try and forget all about this and move on. I don’t have much of a choice anyway. I have to accept whatever the Emperor wants of me.
He let out a heavy sigh and slumped back against the cold concrete wall, knowing that forgetting about Rehnahlia would be easier said than done.
Sitting there in the dark bound tightly in chains, he finally felt truly defeated. There was nothing left for him to do but accept his life as it came, however it may turn out. He didn’t know why it had taken him this long to resign himself to his fate, but it didn’t matter now. What mattered is he no longer cared about anything. The thought of accepting his slave life used to disturb him, but why fight it? He was destined to be a slave. It was all he knew, and all he would know in the future. He might as well accept it and make the best of it.
He stretched as much as his short chains would allow, then settled back against the wall, and for the first time in what seemed an eternity, actually fell asleep.
Rehnahlia ran all the way to her room and locked the door, before collapsing on her bed and crying. She felt like a little girl crying so much, but she couldn’t help herself. The word reverberated in her mind, striking a terrible chord in her because of its truth. She hadn’t thought of her actions this way before, but now she could see that she had deliberately betrayed the one she loved.
“I didn’t want to do it!” She whispered to herself between sobs. “It wasn’t my choice! I was told by the emperor-“
Suddenly something clicked. It wasn’t her fault after all. Everything happening to both Sorahn and her was all the emperor’s fault.
Yes, of course! He was the one who sent Sorahn to Althanas. He was the one who sent me there and told me to do what I did. He is even the one torturing Sorahn now. He’s playing games with my head to make me believe all of this was my fault! That bastard!
She could see out the window that it was almost morning. She didn’t realize how long she had been crying. The emperor would be waking soon to set about his daily tyrannical tasks. She wiped the tears from her eyes and her expression twisted into a face of rage. She grabbed a sheathed sword, which she attached to her belt.
She burst from her room and walked with determination down the marble hall. The empty hall echoed with her rapid footsteps and the polished walls reflected her anger-filled grimace. She turned the corner and entered the great hall but suddenly stopped and let out a small shriek.
There stood the emperor on the elevated platform near his throne, a devious smirk on his face. On the floor before him knelt Sorahn, no longer bound or muzzled, with his eyes downcast.
“Ah, speak of the devil.” The emperor said, turning to see Rehnahlia enter the room. Ignoring him, Rehnahlia simply stared at Sorahn. His thin frame was slightly hunched over, as if he had no energy. She looked closely at him, then gasped and subconsciously covered her mouth.
Sorahn’s eyes were gray. They seemed empty and hollow, and any trace of the fire and energy that once burned in them had vanished. Instead of his usual intensity and determination she only saw resignation and defeat. A chill ran down her spine and she just stared wide-eyed at him for a moment.
“What have you done to him?!” She suddenly yelled to the emperor. He chuckled slightly. “I simply helped him realize what he truly is.” He smiled evilly. “A slave.”
“NO!” She yelled quickly. “He doesn’t deserve to be treated like this, and neither do I.” She said, remembering her purpose. “You are a sadistic bastard, feeding on other’s suffering then justifying it by means of your self-proclaimed title. I won’t stand for it.”
The emperor’s smile never faltered. “So you think you found a backbone, eh? In all the time you’ve served me I’ve known you to follow orders perfectly, and nothing more. You wouldn’t have the nerve to decide for yourself to kill me. You didn’t even have the strength to disobey my simple order to save your lover.” He said calmly as he turned and slowly stepped toward Sorahn. Rehnahlia’s eyes narrowed and she reached for the sword, but hesitated. She couldn’t make herself act, and suddenly she knew that she really was nothing but a coward.
Grinning, the emperor produced a small black dagger. It gleamed dangerously as he played with it, running his fingers along the flat side of the blade. “Yet what you say is true.” He said quietly as he knelt down directly in front of Sorahn. Sorahn never looked up at him, but instead kept his eyes downcast.
“Look at him, Rehnahlia; a perfect slave. He knows his place and will follow orders obediently. And all I had to do was break him.” The emperor began softly running the tip of the dagger along Sorahn’s chest. His smooth fur bent under the blade as it slowly ran up his chest to his neck. The emperor softly ran the blade up to Sorahn’s face to rest on his cheek, directly under his black warrior marking. He gradually began to apply pressure to the dagger, until a small drop of blood dripped from the blade. Sorahn winced slightly, but still remained motionless.
“Stop!” Rehnahlia yelled. The emperor grinned and removed the blade, watching the thin red line that had formed on Sorahn’s face as a tiny stream of blood ran down to his chin where it gathered before finally dripping off and creating a small red dot on the marble floor.
“And to think there was once a time when I was worried that you might ruin everything for me.” He said softly to Sorahn, staring at the little bit of red blood that ran down the edge of the dagger. “And now I have you twisted around my little finger.”
“There’s only one thing left to do.” He said, changing his grip on the dagger so the blade pointed downward out of his fist. “My ultimate satisfaction.” He said, as his evil smile grew wide.
He suddenly swung the blade back and slammed it into Sorahn’s chest.
“NO! SORAHN!” Rehnahlia screamed as the dagger plunged into Sorahn’s chest, its tip protruding from his back. Sorahn’s eyes grew wide as he tried to take a few gasping breaths, making a horrible gagging noise as he did. His blood formed a red sheet on his chest and back, running from the dagger still stuck in him.
Rehnahlia ran toward him as fast as she could as more tears dripped from her face. After one final quivering gasp, Sorahn’s muscles gave out and he collapsed to the marble floor with a thud. A small pool of blood formed around where his mouth lay open on the floor. Within a second, he fell completely still.
Rehnahlia reached him and quickly knelt in front of him. She wrapped her arms around him and put her head to his chest, but felt nothing. He was already growing colder. “No… no…” She whispered over and over as she sobbed into his chest.
The emperor stood behind her, laughing maniacally. She forced herself to sit up. His blood was smeared all over her, but she didn’t care. Looking at Sorahn’s face, she lovingly closed his eyes.
Suddenly her expression changed from sorrow to rage. She slowly stood and turned to the emperor, her eyes narrow and sharp teeth bared. The emperor’s laughing ceased, though he still looked at her with a smile. She quickly drew a shining katana. Its blade shimmered brightly in the light of the sconces.
“And what do you plan to do with that?” The emperor chuckled.
“I will take from you what you took from him. You will pay for the suffering you have caused him, and me, and all of Ranoa.” She snarled through her clenched teeth, her furious gaze burning holes into him.
The emperor laughed. “I’m impressed that you finally made a decision for yourself, but I’m afraid it’s futile. You think you can defeat me? I will rip you apart.”
“Then so be it. I am no longer afraid of death. To die avenging Sorahn would be an honor I do not deserve, but I will not live knowing you were still breathing. I swear to you, one of us will not leave here alive.”
The emperor could think of no witty response. Instead his smile faded into a frown. “Fine.” He said simply. His right hand reached out and a ball of light began to glow in it. He clenched it in his fist and it suddenly burst forth and became a massive great-sword that seemed to be made of red light.
Rehnahlia slid her leg out and back to assume a wide fighting stance then raised the blade in front of her, ready to attack. She knew there was almost no chance of her winning. The emperor was extremely skilled in fighting as well as magic, but she didn’t care. There was nothing worth living for, but Sorahn was worth dying for.
She suddenly let out a roar that shook the great walls of the throne room. She charged toward the emperor, blade ready and teeth bared, vengeance the only thought in her mind.
~End of Chapter II~
~Chapter III~
Sorahn found himself approaching a massive gate. It was made of an enormous arch of bone, and stood like a huge pillar in a land of blackness. He had no idea where he was, but it felt like nowhere. As he moved closer, he saw a figure standing before the gate. A huge direling clothed head to toe in furs, standing firmly and silently, with his arms resting on a gigantic claymore. Sorahn had never seen him before, but somehow he instantly knew his name.
Björmund…
Björmund was the guardian of the Death-Gate. It was he who was responsible for keeping souls on their correct sides of life and death; the Firmament and the Antifirmament.
The direling looked down to see Sorahn. One look and he knew Sorahn was truly dead, and with nothing but a silent nod, the giant sentinel stepped out of the way, and the massive gate began to open. Sorahn felt himself being drawn toward it, and soon he had passed through it. He turned to see the huge gate close behind him as he fell into the world known as the Antifirmament.
He suddenly found himself in the grassy fields of Corone. He even recognized the place: a meadow just off the path between Radasanth and Pandemonium’s Fist. But rather than the sunny skies and green fields he knew, he saw only grey. Everything around him was a shade of grey or black. The whole world appeared to be dead. The grass seemed withered and wilted. The trees around him were black; their gnarled and leafless limbs framed a grey, stormy sky.
Sorahn turned and ran toward Radasanth. His footsteps emitted a hollow echo that chilled him. The whole way he saw nothing but emptiness, as if all of Althanas had been discarded. When he finally reached the crowning city of Corone, the former majesty had been reduced to more of the same desolation. All of the buildings looked to be falling apart. Many of them had holes in the side big enough to walk through. But the worst part was the eerie silence. The only thing he could hear was a faint wind blowing through the streets; nothing of the thousands of people who lived here.
Sorahn…
Startled, Sorahn turned toward the source of the voice. No one was near him, but still he could feel a presence. It was calling him toward something; pulling him. He followed it through the wasteland of Radasanth, until he finally reached a dilapidated Citadel. Its grand pillars were crumbling and the stairs were cracked and crooked, but still it stood as the most majestic thing in the city, even in its neglected state.
Still the voice called him inside. He slowly walked into the grand entrance hall. Its grand marble columns and elaborate tapestries looked worn and neglected, and just as outside, everything in here was a depressing shade of grey.
Suddenly a loud boom shook the hall and a burst of light nearly blinded him. Startled, Sorahn turned to see a massive form, seemingly surrounded by light. Standing at least 15 feet tall, it was the figure of a Ranoan, except for enormous wings on his back, which were folded behind him, as well as two black horns on his head, which swept back over his ears. He couldn’t be described as anything but majestic. Standing proudly before Sorahn, great muscular arms folded, his glory lit the entire great hall.
Sorahn fell to his knees before the figure. He felt his power radiating through him. It seemed to touch him down to his very fiber of being. He felt somehow connected to the brilliant figure, but still awestruck by his majesty.
The great being spoke and filled the hall with his deep booming voice which shook the columns and floors.
“I am Ronah.”
Sorahn cowered in the presence of the glorious figure, who noticed his reaction. “Do not be afraid my son, I could never harm you.” Instantly Sorahn felt reassured, but he didn’t know what he meant by “son.”
“I can see you are confused. I will explain to you who I am.” The great being answered the question that had only just formed in Sorahn’s mind. He was speechless, so he simply waited and listened intently.
“I am as you would call a Thayne deity, born of Hromagh and Y’edda. During the early days of the world, when the other Thayne each contributed to the construction of the world to be known as Al'Thayne, I created my own race of creatures. They were beings in my own image, and thus became known as Ranoans.”
Sorahn’s eyes grew wide. He couldn’t even imagine that he was in the presence of the god of all Ranoans, who sired his entire race. Yet he didn’t doubt it for a second. The truth penetrated to his very soul, and he was overwhelmed. He felt unworthy to look upon his god, but found himself unable to look away.
Ronah continued. The reshaping of the world, known as the Days of Torrent, took its toll on my creation. My children cried out to me, and I showed them mercy. I created another world in which they could dwell, which they named Ranoa. It was separate, yet still a part of Al'Thayne. I instructed my children how to build portals to take them to this place, the very portal you used to return there yourself. And there they have lived, under my watchful eye, for centuries.
Sorahn was amazed. The portal he used to return to Ranoa was almost as old as the world itself. He always knew that Ranoans were an ancient race, but it filled him with pride to know they were among the oldest, older even than the elves. But all the information he had just learned only filled him with more questions. He wanted to know more about his people, but more urgently, he wanted to know of his own fate.
Ask of me, my son, and I shall provide you knowledge. Ronah wisely responded to the thought forming in his mind.
Sorahn started with the most obvious. “Where am I?” He said simply.
You are dead, my son. We stand now in the antifirmament, the land of the dead, which runs parallel to the land of the living. The worlds reflect each other as an image in a mirror, duplicate yet reversed. Where in one world there is life, in the other there is death. Where in one there is prosperity, in the other there is decay.
Considering his situation, Sorahn could guess why Ronah had appeared before him. “Have you come to judge me and prepare my soul for eternity?”
All of my creatures who die must appear before me. As their creator, I am responsible for their fates. I judge each of them fairly, for I know everything about all of my children, just as I know everything about you, Sorahn un’ Rohnahmeh, Cruor’Gal.
Sorahn was startled to hear the name given to him what felt like an eternity go. Ithermoss gave it to him with his dieing breath, and with it gave him leadership of The Red Hand. Sorahn guarded it as a secret ever since, never breathing it to another soul, not even Rehnahlia. But Ronah knew everything about him, just as a craftsman has the most intimate knowledge of his work.
But you are special, my son. You are my chosen one. I have appeared before you to lead you to your destiny, but your fate does not lie with the dead. For just as I have the power to determine how my children will spend eternity in death, so can I return the dead to the living.
Dumbfounded, Sorahn struggled for words. “…your… chosen one? I’m not meant to die?”
”Your death was part of my plan, for one must die in order to be reborn. Now you will return to the world carrying my banner. You will be my warrior and fight for my cause.
“My children have forgotten me, Sorahn. Once devoted to worshiping me, they now worship themselves. For hundreds of years they have known nothing but prosperity. What need do they have for their god? The ancient ways of following their god are history. Even you did not know of me before now. I have been forgotten.
“But now they face a time of turmoil. A man who thinks himself more powerful than me has taken control of them, and leads them with an iron fist. A man who brings sorrow to my people, and therefore begs my judgment.”
“The emperor…” Sorahn said to himself through clenched teeth.
”I will remind him and my people of my true power. I will show them my glory, and they will return to me. You, Sorahn, will be my weapon against his evil. You will fight in my name, and bring glory to me for all my people to see.
“Your destinies are entwined Sorahn. Early in the emperor’s campaign, a prophet told him a man named Sorahn un’ Rohnahmeh would bring about his destruction. Since that day it has been his mission to destroy you. Until now, he has sought to control you rather than kill you, for fear of what it could mean if you died. But in the end his pride got the better of him, just as I knew it would.”
Sorahn felt overwhelmed by the honor bestowed on him. Never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined being the chosen warrior of his god, the god of all Ranoans. It was an immense honor, but also an enormous responsibility. He wasn’t sure he was ready to be a warrior of Ronah.
He looked down at the ground. “I don’t think I’m strong enough… the emperor is too powerful.” He paused for a moment. “I can’t do this alone.”
”You are not alone. You have always been accompanied by two loyal comrades. What you did not realize was that I put them there as part of my purpose.”
Immediately Sorahn’s thought flashed to Nyvahriseth, his ever faithful dragon familiar. He and Nyris shared a bond which he never could explain, but it was very powerful.
”I created your dragon myself, using a piece of your very soul. Though the circumstances of your meeting might suggest otherwise, he was part of my plan all along.”
That explains our connection… Suddenly Sorahn realized that he didn’t feel Nyris’s normal presence within him. He hadn’t thought about how his death would affect his dragon. “Where is he?”
”His body lies dead on Althanas. The moment you died he died as well, your soul being tied to his. However by resurrecting you, I will also resurrect him.”
Sorahn felt greatly relieved. Then he remembered Ronah had mentioned two comrades. “Who is my other companion, then?” As soon as the words left his lips he had a sinking, depressing feeling that he knew the answer.
”Rehnahlia…”
“No.” Sorahn said simply. The thought that he had now attempted to contradict the words of his god eluded him. He was totally consumed by his hatred of Rehnahlia. “How could you have chosen an ally for me with your own hand that would later turn out to be my greatest enemy?”
”Rehnahlia has her struggles just as you have yours. Yet her disloyalty served my greater purpose, for had she not betrayed you, you would not have met the emperor, and you would not be speaking to me. You see Sorahn, in order for my plan to be carried out, certain evils must be accepted for the greater good.”
“But… she caused me so much pain.” Sorahn said more softly as he averted his eyes again. His mind raced with all the thoughts of their relationship. His love for her was so strong, and she threw it all away like it meant nothing to her.
”I know you have felt great pain at the hands of Rehnahlia, but there is a purpose for that as well.”
Sorahn looked up, confused.
”Sorahn, your entire life has been filled with suffering. You have suffered humiliation and degradation as a slave to Garen. You have suffered emotional pain as a result of your relationship with Rehnahlia. You have even suffered physical pain at the hands of the emperor and his torturers. But I can help you use this pain against those who have harmed you. Give your suffering over to me, and I can forge it into a powerful weapon that your enemies will come to fear.”
Sorahn was amazed. He didn’t even know such a thing was possible. How could immaterial emotions be formed into a physical weapon? Is Ronah speaking figuratively? On the other hand, if anyone could forge such a weapon, it would be Ronah. I have to trust in his wisdom.
”Trust my wisdom in this as well, Sorahn. I can tell you that your destiny is entwined with Rehnahlia’s. She has her own problems just like every Ranoan, but I have a purpose for her in the end.”
Even after these decisive words from Ronah, Sorahn was still finding it difficult to get past what Rehnahlia had done to him. He felt even more resentful of the fact that he was being told to make amends.
”Part of the beauty of my creation is you have your own free will. You can choose to accept what I tell you or you can choose to reject it. I am not interested in mindless followers, but rather in those who choose to follow me. I understand how painful your relationship with Rehnahlia has become, but I can offer you a glimpse into her current actions at this very moment that might change your mind.”
Sorahn responded bitterly. “A glimpse into her actions? What has she done that is anything but selfish and cold-hearted?”
”She fights for you.”
The sound of blades clashing echoed through the massive marble throne room. Every polished surface, the walls, pillars, floors, all reflected images of a fierce battle.
Rehnahlia descended on the emperor with incredible force, only to have her attack blocked by the emperor’s great sword. He swung a swift kick to her chest, which sent her flying across the room back from where she came.
Landing on the ground with a thud, she didn’t have time to recover before she saw the emperor flying over her, within moments of crashing into her like a meteor falling from the sky, his glowing red blade ready to deliver the killing blow. Quickly she rolled out of the way and leapt to her feet gracefully.
“I’m impressed by your skills, and your brevity. But your fight in vain.” The emperor said snidely as he swung his sword in a wide arc toward her. “Sorahn is dead and your sudden moral revelation can’t bring him back.”
Rehnahlia quickly guarded the attack with her katana. “No it can’t. But I can save an untold number of lives by making sure you don’t live to kill them.” She spun quickly and sliced toward the emperor’s midsection, which he avoided by leaping back.
“Those that die at my hands are enemies of the empire, and deserve to be eradicated.” The emperor responded, as he made one giant step toward her and brought the great sword down on her. Rehnahlia parried this with her katana and launched a counter attack by bringing her blade horizontally toward the emperor. “Your empire is corrupt and only serves the needs of your evil and egotistical desires.”
The emperor leapt away from her attack gracefully, but rather than countering, he simply stood and smiled. “You’re right. This empire is mine. And it won’t stop because of the likes of you. You cannot defeat me. Even you know this. I will…” The emperor was cut off when he saw a small drop of blood hit the floor. Looking up he saw a cut in his upper arm, and a small trickle of blood ran from it down his arm.
Rehnahlia spun her katana quickly and assumed a defensive stance. Her face was determined, her eyes burning with fury. The emperor looked up at her, anger apparent in his face. “I’m through playing with you. I will kill you just as I killed your lover. Perhaps I might even achieve the same level of satisfaction at watching you die.”
With a sudden burst of energy he charged at her. He brought his sword down on her, which she managed to block, but the sheer force of the attack caused her to stumble backwards. The attack was quickly followed by a swift kick, which landed squarely on her chest. This knocked her further backwards and off balance, all the wind gone from her lungs. The emperor continued his ruthless attacks by swinging the great sword at her yet again. It took all the strength she had just to parry with her katana, but as soon as she did a fist connected with her face with enough force to send her flying several feet before landing with a thud on the ground.
Slowly Rehnahlia pulled herself up on her hands and knees, and spat the blood out of her mouth, leaving a red blemish on the perfect white marble floor. The emperor walked toward her slowly, the evil grin returning to his face. She quickly turned toward him and swung her sword toward him with all the strength she could gather. With a flick of his wrist the emperor sent a shockwave that blew the blade straight out of her hand and sent it soaring to the other side of the room. A clear clang echoed in the throne room as it hit the floor.
Stunned, Rehnahlia just watched as another kick sailed toward her chest, knocking her back to her knees, followed by another kick which connected solidly with her head. Her vision grew blurry as she landed on her back. The emperor stood over her, his smile never fading. “Do you see now how futile this is? You can never beat me.”
“To think, you were once a loyal follower of mine. You did as you were told, and you were very good at your job. As a result you were rewarded with all the comforts my hospitality has to offer. But now you choose to reject me, in favor of a man who is already dead. And here you lay, a helpless animal before me, waiting to be put out of its misery. Why would you give up everything you had, knowing that you would die in the end?”
Rehnahlia had to spit more blood out of her mouth as she slowly rolled on to her side, a feat which took most of her strength. “Because,” she said between heavy breaths, “Sorahn loved me.”
The emperor’s face turned to one of disgust. Suddenly he reached down and grabbed Rehnahlia’s shirt and lifted her off the ground. He pulled her up to his face as her feet left the floor. She squirmed, vainly trying to pull from his grasp. He stared deep into her eyes, her face inches from his. “Then die with him.”
Suddenly he threw her across the room. Her body flew helplessly through the air and crashed into a pillar. The force of impact caused an explosion of debris as huge chunks of marble and the concrete that lay beneath it flew into the air. Rehnahlia fell limply to the floor, landing in rocks and dust as even more descended around her.
She grunted loudly through clenched teeth and gasped for breath. Her whole body was on fire, her muscles refusing to follow her commands anymore. She could barely lift her arm off of the rubble surrounding her, when she heard the slow and calm footsteps of the emperor walking toward her echoing loudly in the great hall. ”Sorahn…”
The emperor’s smile grew wide as he lifted the great sword above his head, the helpless body of Rehnahlia lying in its shadow.
”STOP!”
The emperor hesitated as a sudden voice echoed in the throne room. He looked around to see where the voice might have come from, but no one was in the room except him and Rehnahlia, who was grunting as she tried to move her battered body enough to search for the voice as well.
The emperor, totally uninterested in Rehnahlia for the time being, slowly stepped toward the middle of the room, scanning for someone who might be hiding behind the columns. Then he saw it. Sorahn’s body was gone.
“No…”
Suddenly the enormous double doors of the great halls exploded inward, blowing both doors off their hinges and sending shards of wood flying into the room. The explosion shook the great hall, resounding loudly in the pillars and marble floors. The sheer force knocked the emperor off balance. He looked up to the door to see his worst nightmares come true. Slowly and calmly, in walked Sorahn un’ Rohnahmeh.
His hair had turned black, and from his head grew a pair of black horns, which swept back over his ears as they came to a point. He wore only the tattered pants of a slave, but they too had turned black, contrasting sharply with his snow white fur and leaving his upper body exposed to proudly display his defined muscles and his vast array of ceremonial and tribal tattoos. He appeared to have gained a few markings, which carried with them deep meaning, most connected to his devotion to Ronah. The inverted “L” shape on his left cheek, the Ranoan mark of a warrior, now gained another diagonal mark, and was mirrored onto his right cheek, indicating a warrior with experience and high honors.
He stood confidently, an air of power and majesty surrounding him, a symbol of the strong tribal nation of warriors of ancient times. The intense fire had returned to his determined eyes, which were focused intently on the emperor. “Your reign has come to an end. Justice will be served for the atrocities you have committed against the Ranoan people. I will enforce the will of Ronah.”
The emperor looked scared to death for a moment. He was completely stunned and had lost the composed façade he usually held. But as always, his uncompromising arrogance set in, and his face quickly twisted into a smile. “You sound just like her.” He said as he motioned to Rehnahlia. “You underestimate my power, Sorahn. No false god from ancient times can destroy me, the real god of Ranoa. I don’t know how you came back, but this time I will make sure you stay dead.”
Rehnahlia fought to regain strength. She struggled to pull herself up to see Sorahn. “It can’t be…” She whispered to herself. “He’s alive…” She looked deep into the fierce blue eyes she knew so well, her mind racing. Sorahn ignored her, instead remaining totally focused on the emperor.
“You have become so blind to the power of Ronah that you deny him even after he raised me from the dead. I will show the people of Ranoa who their real god is, and I will make sure you can no longer torment them.” With that Sorahn clenched his hand into a fist, and with a burst of smoke, in it appeared a black spear. The shaft was six feet long and had a spearhead on the end as well as a long blade on either side directly below the head. All three blades appeared to be detached from the shaft, floating next to it. Ancient Ranoan writing was carved into the length of the spear, and around the whole weapon was an aura of darkness. It was the weapon forged from Sorahn’s own pain and suffering.
“You will pay for everything you’ve done to me.”
Instantly Sorahn leapt forward and brought his spear down on the emperor. His black blade was met with the red glow of the emperor’s great sword. Quickly Sorahn spun and sliced again, followed by a quick jab with the blunt end of the spear, and then bringing the spearhead down again. Each time he swung he was forcefully stopped by the emperor’s parry.
Suddenly the emperor brought his sword down on Sorahn, eager to get on the offensive. Sorahn blocked this with the length of his spear, and then jumped under it to kick the emperor in the chest. Finally he felt that satisfying thud as his foot connected, sending the emperor stumbling back a few steps. Capitalizing on this upper hand, Sorahn spun around and brought his spear down on him in a diagonal slice, which the emperor managed to deflect away from him. Now with full footing, the emperor retaliated by swinging his sword backhand back at Sorahn, which he deflected. The emperor got on the offensive like a freight train, delivering blow after blow which Sorahn struggled to block or evade.
Just when Sorahn thought he couldn’t keep up anymore he flicked his wrist and a huge shockwave blew the emperor back several feet and shook the hall slightly. The emperor caught himself gracefully, but looked stunned. Sorahn spun his spear quickly, which left a streak of the black aura behind as it moved, before assuming a defensive stance.
Sorahn had never felt so alive. He assumed this would be a natural reaction to returning from the dead, assuming returning from the dead was natural. But getting back in the heat of one-on-one battle had brought him back to his glory days. Feeling the adrenaline surge through him, reacting purely on instinct, and relying on his technique made him remember all the battles he had fought before. This was what he was born to do.
He focused entirely on the emperor. Nothing distracted him. He felt as if he had entered another level of consciousness entirely. When the emperor finally charged at him, he knew exactly what to do. Strike after strike clashed against his spear, or whisked past him harmlessly. He felt as though they were moving in slow motion. His reactions were instantaneous, relying on his combat experience and instincts to move for him.
Rehnahlia was slowly gaining her strength back, as her body recovered from the pounding it received earlier. She managed to sit up, and as soon as she did her eyes grew wide. She stared amazed as Sorahn and the emperor battled furiously. She could barely follow their attacks and counter-attacks, they were moving too fast. She had the strong urge to help Sorahn fight, but she didn’t think she had the strength to stand, let alone fight. Helpless, she could only watch the frantic battle and hope Sorahn would win. If he did win, she hoped Sorahn would be kind enough to her to let her live, though she didn’t deserve it. Still, he was a merciful person. She assumed he would probably just leave her in disgust and she would never see him again.
… I would rather him kill me.
They continued their dance of battle at a furious pace. Both Sorahn and the Emperor were striking quickly and precisely, only to have their blow deflected by the other. It seemed as though they were in a stalemate, neither harming the other, but Sorahn knew it was only a matter of time before one of them wore out and made a mistake.
Suddenly the emperor’s face twisted into a smirk, sending a chill down Sorahn’s spine. The emperor then struck so quickly that Sorahn could barely react. He managed to deflect the threatening blade, only to feel a foot connect with his face. Knocked off balance, he felt another blow to his chest. He saw the red sword swinging threateningly toward him and he managed to twist out of the way, but felt a searing pain as the blade caught his left arm in the bicep.
He collapsed to the floor, clutching his arm, which bled all over his hand. More drops of blood dripped from his mouth, which ached from the pummeling it had just received. The emperor stood a few feet away, looking notably triumphant, the same smirk still on his face. He’s playing with me.
Realizing, or rather hoping, the wound to his arm wasn’t as bad as he first thought, he pulled himself up off the ground. He felt the intense loathing build up inside himself again, as it had done many times before. The arrogant smile burned into his mind, bringing back all the memories of his torture, his imprisonment, even back to Althanas, where had been a slave to the evil man named Garen. All of it was all the fault of the man who stood before him, smirking as if he was merely amused at Sorahn’s attempt to kill him. The physical embodiment of all that was wrong with his life stood before him, on the verge of laughter at his pitiful performance.
Sorahn stood, his face showing a threatening grimace, proudly displaying his full assortment of blood-covered and razor sharp teeth. He let the rage consume him. It filled his body like liquid fire, causing his muscles to ripple, his adrenaline to flow freely, and his mind to narrow into total focus. Like many times before, nothing else mattered to him. The room disappeared, and all he could see was the emperor standing in front of him, mocking him. He tightened his grip on his spear as he loosened his grip on his sanity, spiraling toward a burning void of rage that devoured his soul.
He let loose a monstrous roar that reverberated so loud in the great hall that it shook the floors and put a crack in the nearest column. Then with the same force and energy, he jumped into the air, straight at the emperor, and for a moment time stood still. Tiny droplets of sweat and blood dripped from him. His hair whipped around his head wildly. His baggy pants rippled and flapped slightly as he flew, suspended in the air. The perfectly black blade whistled as it cut through the air, descending on its target like a meteor, leaving a smoky black trail in its wake. Sorahn cared about none of this. He could think of nothing but the emperor dying by his hand, finally exacting the beautiful justice that had eluded him all his life.
There was a resounding boom as the blades met. The emperor mustered all of his strength to block the oncoming freight train. A spider web of cracks appeared around the emperor’s feet from the sheer impact.
Instantly the black blade came hurtling toward the emperor again. He dodged this, but as soon as he watched the black trail whisk past him, the blade appeared again, from another direction. Sorahn was attacking with all his might, the fury driving him. The emperor strained to parry Sorahn’s advances, until finally he felt the butt of the spear connect solidly with his face. As soon he felt the shock of this, it was joined by an unbearable pain from his right arm. He quickly looked down to find his right hand was missing. The red sword once in it was nowhere to be found.
The full realization of this was interrupted as a kick connected to his chest with enough force to blow him backwards. A quick roundhouse kick connected to his face, spinning him a full revolution before sending him to the floor with a thud.
He opened his eyes just in time to see a black blade descending toward his face.
The emperor flinched as the blade abruptly stopped, mere inches away from his face. It hovered threateningly, directly above his face. He went cross-eyed to focus on it, noting the razor-sharp edge and the odd, smoky black aura that surrounded it. His eyes moved up the shaft, etched with ancient Ranoan symbols, and traveled up a muscular arm to meet with Sorahn’s face.
Sorahn stared at the emperor with intense loathing, panting as he recovered from his burst of attacks. He now simply stood over the emperor, holding the blade of the spear above the emperor’s face, daring him to move. The emperor simply looked back up at him with a look of shock, his head still reeling from what had just happened. He was breathing heavily; a small trickle of blood dripped from his mouth, paling in comparison to the pool of blood which was now forming around his painfully empty wrist.
Rehnahlia had finally regained enough strength to stand, although shakily. She looked over to Sorahn, shocked to see Sorahn had the upper hand, and even more shocked that he had not yet dealt the final blow. “Do it Sorahn! Kill him!”
Sorahn ignored her. For the moment he didn’t even know she was in the same room. He could only see the emperor. But even he didn’t know why he had stopped. Was it weakness? Cowardice? Conscience? He couldn’t see how any of these applied to him at the moment.
Predictable as the sunrise, the emperor’s mood soon changed from fear to arrogance. His face again twisted into that snide little smile that Sorahn had come to loathe in their brief time together. “You can’t do it, can you Sorahn? You are weak, undeserving of the title of Ranoan warrior. But I am a true warrior, defiant in the face of death.”
“You are no warrior.” Sorahn spat back at him. “Ranoan warriors don’t abuse Ranoa and twist her people to accomplish selfish goals. You are a blemish on the face of our people. You will have to account for your sins before Ronah.”
“Can’t you see it, Sorahn? Even after returning from the dead, you are still a slave. You have always been a slave. From Garen, to me, and now to Ronah, you have merely changed masters. You as much a slave to that false god as you were to me. You are here trying to kill me because you were told to. And here you are, loyal and obedient as always; ready to faithfully carry out your duties. Slave.”
Sorahn’s mind raced through his torturous memories. Controlled by Garen, manipulated by Rehnahlia, imprisoned and tortured, all of it assaulted him from the deep recesses of his mind, screaming the emperor into his ears.
“No…” Sorahn said as he lifted the spear away from the emperor’s face. The emperor smiled as he watched the blade release the tense grip it held on him, but his smile faded when he saw Sorahn’s enraged face.
“No… this is for me.”
With that Sorahn lifted the spear above his head and roared as he brought it down upon the emperor’s frightened face.
The impact sent a shockwave through the room, shattering the sconces and cracking all the marble columns. Rehnahlia struggled to stay standing in her weakened state as the shockwave hit her, shaking the floor and knocking the wind out of her.
She coughed, drawing air back into her lungs and trying to re-stabilize herself. She looked up and watched as the dust settled to reveal Sorahn, panting heavily and hunched over what was left of the body of the emperor, jammed several inches into the marble floor.
Whether the shockwave was caused by Sorahn’s power, or simply by the death of a powerful man, Rehnahlia wasn’t sure. Either way, she was still afraid of what would happen next.
She watched Sorahn as he pulled himself upright, and then turned to look directly at her.
Rehnahlia’s eyes grew wide as Sorahn began walking toward her. She was trembling with fear, knowing that now it was her turn to face her due justice. Even she knew she deserved it, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept the fact that she would soon die.
“Sorahn, please…” She said feebly, knowing there was no defense for her, but unable to control the desire to plead for her life. She was a coward after all, and this situation proved no different.
Finally Sorahn reached her, and quickly grabbed her arm. She closed her eyes as she felt herself being pulled toward him and prepared herself for the inevitable. In an instant she would feel the cold metal pierce her flesh and within moments she would finally receive the justice she deserved.
Suddenly she felt not cold metal, but warm lips, pressed against hers. Confused, she opened her eyes to see Sorahn’s face, passionately kissing her own, and instantly she felt overwhelmed. Losing all thoughts about death, she just immersed herself in his kiss, feeling a rush of happiness surge through her.
When at last they parted, she looked into his smiling face, a look of confusion on her own. She just couldn’t understand this change of heart. It felt too good to be real, as if she had wished for this so strongly that she couldn’t accept it becoming reality.
“But… Sorahn, I – “
“I saw the whole thing, Rehnahlia. All of it. You were willing to die to avenge me, thinking nothing of yourself in an effort to protect me, even after I had already died. There could be no greater proof of your love.” He said as he ran his fingers through her soft red hair; a feeling he had missed.
“But I betrayed you…” She said, her voice shaking as tears began to well up in her eyes.
“And I forgive you. I understand why you did it, and when the moment of truth came you didn’t kill me yourself, and that means something, too. Rehnahlia, I know you, and I know that this,” He motioned around him at the palace, “this isn’t you. You aren’t an assassin, and you aren’t evil. You are the girl that I found on Althanas, the girl I lived with and talked to, the girl I fell in love with.”
With that Rehnahlia broke down. She plunged her face into his chest and started sobbing. “I… was so scared… I didn’t know… what to do… and when… when he killed you…”
She broke off, crying too heavily. Sorahn simply held her tight, trying to comfort her, assuring her it was all over now. He could feel her trembling, but enjoyed finally feeling her warmth again.
Finally she pulled away, trying to compose herself. She wiped her puffy eyes and smiled wearily up at him. He looked at her lovingly, and finally got the opportunity to say what he had wanted to say for so long.
“Rehnahlia nah’ Mahreth,” He began officially, following a Ranoan tradition that had been passed down for centuries, “will you be my mate, binding our souls together forever, and spend eternity with me?” He smiled at her, about to burst with the excitement of it.
More tears of joy filled Rehnahlia’s eyes. “Yes! I will be your mate.” She said, returning his wide smile.
With that he pulled her to him and again they kissed. Sorahn had never been happier in his life.
Sorahn was sure that they were the first couple ever to be married by Ronah himself. They followed a specific Ranoan ritual that was as old as the race itself, the end result being that their souls were literally connected. As part of the ritual they each got the other’s name marked on them, adding to Sorahn’s collection of meaningful Ranoan symbols on his body. They also exchanged silver earrings, which were more important to Ranoans than human finger rings, which no Ranoans wore.
When the ritual was complete, Ronah gave Sorahn instructions. ”Sorahn, I want you and Rehnahlia to return to Althanas. My people have been freed and I will assure that the rest of my plan for them will be carried out. But my plans for you continue in the world created by the Thaynes.
Sorahn, you, and now Rehnahlia, have been freed from the oppression of time. While you are still subject to any of death’s other forms, you no longer need to fear the death of time. You are ageless. All the better to serve my purpose for you.”
Sorahn was completely amazed at the implications of this. Barring being killed, he could live through the ages. He bowed low to his god, thanking him for this gift.
He was excited to finally return to Althanas, the place he truly called home now. Taking Rehnahlia’s hand, they stepped through the portal, and immediately they were whisked off to Althanas, appearing in the familiar cave in the Corone countryside.
They emerged from the cave to find Nyris, standing proudly as ever, waiting for them by the entrance. He was now solid black, and slightly bigger than before, his hard scales maturing. He now had the look of an older, wiser dragon, rather than the young, developing look he had before. Sorahn was happy to see him, and he felt his happiness returned from the dragon.
Please do not ever die again. It was a horrifying experience. The dragon spoke to him in his mind. Sorahn grinned and Nyris bent low to allow them to mount easily
As soon as they sat securely in the saddle on his back, the great dragon gave a push with his powerful legs and instantly they were soaring into the air, flying off into the distant sky as the sun began to rise.
~The End~
((Holy crap I finished it!))
Spoils: The spear as described in the thread, 6 foot long shaft with long blades on either side bellow the spearhead, made of Adamantium-equivalent strength (indestructible), with the power to be summoned and un-summoned on Sorahn's command.
General comments: While this quest started off a bit bumpily, it read quickly, and for that I thank you. I liked it, and...let's see what the numbers say.
Continuity: 6 -- I know you requested that the judge read the history section of your profile, but I shouldn't need to in order to make sense of your quest. You actually didn't do too badly here. While it came rather late, I got all the pertinent information that I found when reading your profile in the quest, although it came in bits and pieces. I'd have preferred to see a scene or two with the Emperor featured, maybe reflecting on what had happened, instead of having Ronah just tell Sorahn everything, but overall I got what I needed. The nightmare scene was great for continuity, maybe it could have been put in the first post (and then I'd have given you technique points for foreshadowing)
Setting: 4 -- I didn't get much setting throughout the quest. Your detail was sparse and focused primarily on vision. What about when his head was in the canvas bag and muzzle? How could he breathe? What do different places smell like? When you're chained in place for a long time, you tend to soil yourself (eww, Karu, gross! ...but true...) what does that feel like? And smell like? Sorahn has these great big ears, what sounds could he hear? When you did focus on setting, you had some beautiful visual appeal, but it could have been done better.
Pacing: 8 -- Pacing was excellent, although I believe the scenes with Ronah and the last battle could have been shorter. The thread read quickly and you didn't bore me with needless information or frustrate me with too little information. By the end of the thread, every question was answered, and every loose end tied.
Dialogue: 5 -- The dialogue was fitting, for the most part, but somewhat lackluster, to be honest. It tended to feel a little flat, and you have a tendency of then following a bit of dialogue up by TELLING what the character is feeling, rather than SHOWING it through inflection, word use, or action.
Action: 5 -- Your fight scenes seem very wooden to me. Attack, parry, dodge, counter attack...it lacks a bit of artistic flair. Rather than saying what your characters do off the bat, you could describe their motions. For example, "she spun and kicked at her opponent, who stepped back, dodging," could be, "she lunged with a frightful whirl, aiming a fearsome kick toward her opponent's face, but his quick step took him out of harm's way before she could have the satisfaction of seeing blood streaming from his nose." You also don't describe pain. You describes what happens to cause pain, but not the feeling itself. The one other thing I really had issues with was that when the Emperor cut Sorahn and he fell, the Emperor didn't press his advantage. That doesn't make sense. Your person to person interaction was carried off well, though.
Also, just a note: "whump" seems to be your universal sound. I could hear "whump" for the dragon's wings, and I thought "BRILLIANT!" and then it was used over and over for other things, too. Consider other onomatopoeia next time, like "whud" "crick" or, my favorite, "thock."
Persona: 5 -- You know your characters, I can see that. But you portray them in somewhat two-dimensional terms, instead of using emotions to explore their breadth and depth. You tell me how they feel, you show me the basics of what they do, such as Rehnahlia crying. You didn't contort her face and show that little spit bubble that we all get when we're really upset and our nose is draining into our mouth (eww, Karu, gross...), or the burning sorrow in Sorahn's chest when he found out that it was the person he loved more than anything else that had betrayed him to slavery. You have a good foundation, but flesh it out. It wouldn't have felt a longer read if you'd done that, and I'd know everyone better. Flesh out everyone, even your antagonist. Having fleshy antagonists means they go "SPLORCH" when you squish 'em, instead of *crumble into dust.*
Mechanics: 7 -- You have a few clauses that are either extraneous or could be combined, and other times you're missing commas where they should be. Also, don't have two people talk in the same paragraph. Ever. You did it at least twice, and I was like 'huh?' I know it breaks things up more if you have dialogue close together, but really...it's better for clarity. Overall, though, good job.
Technique: 5 -- I didn't really see anything special. Scattered similes, but you didn't have incredibly boring posts, or worse yet, mis-use and abuse techniques.
Clarity: 8 -- aside from the couple of occasions when you had multiple people talking, and a few iffy antecedents, you were good here. I didn't have to re-read anything, which is always a plus.
Wildcard: 7 -- It wasn't a perfect thread, but I rather liked it. It amuses me to think of Sorahn as the Ranoan Jesus. Maybe someday on Ranoa they'll have "Sweet Zombie Sorahn" as a phrase, and that makes me laugh. But anyway, I appreciate that this solo has taken a lot of your time, thought, and energy, and it's two major steps for Sorahn at once. I'm looking forward to seeing how the marriage goes.
And the damage is: 60! Congratulations!
Sorahn gets 3,470 EXP and his requested spoil, along with two shards of broken marble from the Emperor's palace, commemorating the victory (worthless if sold).
Questions and comments can be PM'd to me, or my AIM is Loquelf.
EXP added! Sorahn, welcome to the next level.
Powered by vBulletin® Version 4.2.5 Copyright © 2025 vBulletin Solutions Inc. All rights reserved.