3. Broken

Broken


  • Free

    My sanity rushed back as I dropped onto hard flagstones, screaming over and over as the crushing weight of memories of a century of unendurable torment hit and near drove me to madness in that first instant. But I held on. Somehow. I clung to the beautiful songstress Demi who sobbed without end.

    Dimly I was aware of Shannon’s ardent zealotry voiced, and of Roland’s anger and resolve to return ‘there’ with the Sanctus to complete our failed task, and even of Mecizq’s wonder at the sight of simple things. At some point, the males left. They left Demi and I taking what comfort we could from the closeness of another being who wept for the same reasons as we did.

    Someone who understood that even the simple act of drawing breath into my ruined body was agony. But I had survived and I would grow strong once more to revel in all the myriad joys of living. And so it was that dawn saw me stumbling through the city to the place that has never failed to refresh my spirit.

    I knew that in that place body and mind would be soothed and that in time I would emerge from there whole and well in flesh and spirit. Unscathed. I have the potent protection that is knowing my purpose in life and I believed that it would safeguard me as ever it has.

    _Night falls in the Commerce district and the bustle of the daytime dies away. As the hours of darkness pass, the sound of sobbing from somewhere on the rooftops is a soft counterpoint to scuffling rodents and echoing footsteps.

    As the sun crests the horizon a distressed Eluriel stumbles through unfamiliar streets in a state of disarray to escape to somewhere she can be alone._

    Aware

    Awoken by strange noises I lay still while I tried to identify them. I did not feel rested, and somewhere, an ache nagged for me to pay attention to it. I laughed mirthlessly and inaudibly, resolved to ignore such calls forevermore as I was.

    What did gain my interest were the muted tones of varying pitches and lengths that I soon identified as human voices, and ones new to me at that. As all would be, I remembered. All of them dead now. Perhaps I might one day meet the grandchildren of folk dear to me so long ago, but I have never been one to dwell upon regrets, and so I turned my mind from things lost beyond the veil of five score years to the present.

    I wondered why it was that strangers had come so close to my place of rest. Deaf to the pitiful pleading of the body to remain still, I rose with the intention of answering my question. Legs buckled as a wave of dizziness came, and then I was falling, as all turned black.

    I was next roused from unconsciousness by my own screams, and it felt familiar to me. Two months are lost to me between being ‘there’ and leaving my leafy retreat, and so perhaps I had experienced such on each awakening.

    Though my face was in the dirt and air entering nasal passages was filtered through mulching leaves, the stench of vomit, urine and faeces pervaded all, and thus a heaving stomach sent a stream of bile up through a body still shaking from nightmares to hit the ground with force and spray back up onto the face.

    I would wash, I thought, as I attempted to rise. Palms flat to either side of my face I pressed down, and down, and down. But the body was exhausted from the night’s terrors and I had no choice but to remain on the ground until some small measure of strength was regained.

    It was not long before the realisation came to me that the stench around me was the waste of my own body accumulated over some considerable period of time just a little way from the animal’s den where I had first come to.

    I was disgusted. Matted hair, ragged clothing and filthy carcass revolted me equally. Locating my belongings I gathered them up with some measure of worry as to why they had been returned to Toril with me.

    Still, I shouldered my bow, and avoiding the tiresome prattle of the pixies I stumbled to a moonlit Rawlinswood where I sunk many an arrow in a green hide until such time as I eventually slumped exhausted against a tree for a time before clicking antennae of an umberhulk spurred me to move elsewhere.

    Having had to rest twice more in places I would rather remain alert, I made for where I desperately hoped I would find the Wolf Camp. I knew that in that home of wanderers I would be welcomed even had it come to pass that all wolves I had known had moved elsewhere in the intervening years.

    Those in our family are wolves in spirit before ever they know of us and even if they have parted ways from us. Us? Few of the faces that word brought to mind were ones I would likely ever see once more save in memory alone.

    It is necessary to ensure that a body is given sufficient fuel for ones use of it. I had ignored it entirely. Nearing the camp, inching closer with the help of an arm pushing off the cliffside, there came a moment when the muscles of the arm could do that no longer. Legs failed similarly and I slid to the ground for I could do naught other. Thirty paces to my old home and I could travel not a one of them.

    Home

    Delusions returned. There in the snow, I saw Star. Hitting my head did not make the image leave. Then it touched me and I recognised the being as a demon in the image of that girl whose sweetness and kindness it imitated so perfectly. It lifted me and the worthless shell where I reside had not the strength to break me free of it. Added to this, hearing another of them imitate Cike was more than I could stand and my mind shut them out.

    Choking, I bolted upright. A wet rag slid down my face as the body’s defence mechanisms dislodged some gooey foodstuff from its throat. And there was… Meril? Was it he whom I had loved more than words could ever express? I looked at him. As if I could trust those eyes I examined each part of his face for any differences and found none. I almost believed it was he. But only until I saw the Star-demon. Fiends, both of them! With huge effort I moved the second mattress to become a barricade between them and me. Too much exertion for the loathsome body and blissful unconsciousness descended.

    When as was customary then my own screams caused me to stir, I saw only Meril. In the time that followed he convinced me that he was neither demon nor hallucination as he persuaded me to drink. Twas then that Tala joined us and I learnt from their assurances and her glossy red hair that time had moved differently for them. I seized and clutched the lock she cut for me as proof that my friends among the shorter lived races were not in fact all with their gods. Meril plied me with Tala’s tea and bread. Tea that once I considered a rare treat and honey-soaked bread dense with nuts and berries were as stagnant water and a stale loaf to me then.

    The medicinal liquor numbed me to my fears and it was not long before I drifted into what could not have been other than my first peaceful rest since my return from ‘there’. Days later I came to alone in the den. Lifting the herb pouch I presumed Tala had left there for me, I went to resume my life with the comforting knowledge that untroubled rest was attainable. Sparingly, for I have more sense than to engage in the regular use of drugs, but it would be there for me when necessary.

    Wings

    From goblins to hobgoblins I went, leaving their bloody carcasses to decompose and nourish the soil. Bugbears left for another day for on that one I could not run. A young man ran over hills fending off the hobgoblins who attacked him and I watched his successes with some measure of satisfaction until it came to pass that one menaced him with a scythe. And so I loosed arrows into it. But another had come to the man’s aid. A Mephit. Instinctive, unreasoning terror saw arms raised to ward off the attack of a flying demon come to carve pieces of flesh for it’s culinary enjoyment.

    Demonkin

    They gathered about me in Jiyyd; friend and stranger alike each asking that I allow them to heal wounds that pained me not. Though I explained that I had at my disposal the energies of my own patron to ease suffering and that I had no need of such myself, their eyes, expressions, voices and words told me that my assertion troubled them. Always have I been uncomfortable, embarrassed even, when careless actions of mine cause hurt. And so, twas but a few days before I relented to accepted healing foisted upon me after having seen the torment that this new facet of me caused Meril. But on that day this was not the case and it was with torn flesh that I crossed to the orc plains along with others who had been concerned upon hearing that a large orc had chased folk towards Jiyyd.

    An ambush greeted our arrival on the plains near to the fortress and I give thanks that I was able to keep out of range of its blade as it chased me. For some reason unknown to me then, Elor cut a path directly towards their fortress home. He was killed. While that in itself troubled me not, his actions were the direct cause of deaths other than his own.

    To the city we travelled. Mariston told of Elor having within that past tenday termed demons kin to himself and stated that there were items among the bard's belongings that were to be destroyed. Lilin had spied a heart in his pack. I could not comprehend why his remains were being carried into the temple.

    While I was in favour of either burning Elor’s remains or else burying him, it became apparent Natanya’s intention was to have his soul returned to his remains. I declared that any future actions of his would be a stain on her conscience and she declared that she would take responsibility for returning him. After the long journey north I was tired and leant against a pillar whilst Natanya and Mariston debated ecumenical matters. Elor is of dark heart, Mariston said. Tainted. That does not come about save be that the one who is so dark has performed vile deeds and so I was unprepared for the sight of Elor’s body animated once more, nor for those questionable items being returned to him, nor the pouch of coin that I would have seen given to folk in need.

    Squires of the Order shrunk away from my ferocity as I informed them that such as Elor were responsible for our fates. The refered to the five of us who had been 'there', though likely neither Jael nor Riel knew my meaning then. I delivered warning that should ever I see Elor consorting with his kin or acting as they do that he will be no more. Appalled, I could do no more than hold tight the vain hope that his future actions would result in the deaths of none of good heart.

    Cold

    Spread out below is a bleak countryside. On this stormy night, farmers sleep under the snow-laden roofs of their timber homes. A solitary figure battles against the wind, her fluffy blue cloak serving only to further hamper her passage when it billows about the elf whose stick-thin figure is outlined whenever a gust of wind hits from any direction other than east.

    One thought dominated that eve. I asked myself why it was that I could not ignore cold temperatures as I could all other aches that the body complained of. I asked how it could be that neither thick cloak not elemental protection nor both combined could shield me from the terrible chill that rarely left me then. I knew, of course. I knew that five score years of continual torment in flames had left its mark on my spirit as well as on the husk and that I might never be able ignore the husk’s pathetic protestations of cold to easily tolerate Narfell’s clime.

    And so too did I know that losing myself in speculation without any real purpose would not my task accomplish. I would find Cike, I had told Lilin when she asked this of me, and find him I would. With misgivings, yes, for I knew that my presence would distress him as it distressed all others who have cared for me, but my word is my bond and will never be broken.

    Suffering greatly in the frigid environment I trudged through snowdrifts and the mauling of wolves towards Ormpur where I believed that he and his love often spent time but neither of them did I discover there and so I made to leave. It occurred to me then that the torn flesh of the body might not survive many more attacks and that the crust of blood on me would likely attract many more attacks. And so I washed and called upon Solonor for his aid that my life in service to him would continue uninterrupted.

    When the hand unclasped from about his symbol, it came into contact with a smoother pendant that I drew off over my head and looked at as I contemplated the return journey. Better that no attacks came. Twas with that thought that I surveyed the land around me over two days to find animals recently dead after birthing and harvest from them the scent glands that I pressed into the solid half of the storage chamber and sealed them in there when I reaffixed the locket’s other half.

    Twas an hour later when I closed Jiyyd’s gate and adjusted my soft cloak to examine the shell that hurt so unbearably. No broken skin could I find. The searing pain was naught but the absence of the flames of torture. Asking my Patron’s blessing that the musk would continue to protect his servant from harm, I closed the flap over the perforated section of the locket and made for the warmth of the Inn.

    Flame

    The radiance of the moon in the night’s clear sky served only to darken my mood. I had no wish to be reminded of my new lack of self sufficiency as I was by the tarnished green ore that surely protruded from the ground regardless of my having looked elsewhere in the instant after having seen it. I had not the least intention of mining a metal that I would not be able to smelt.

    A strange game it might have seemed to any who had seen my failure. A female on her knees who in thickly-gloved hands held a chuck of ore that she would tentatively offer to the oven only to snatch it away at the last instant possible. When I concentrated and bent every fibre of my being into accomplishing that task, I had nearly managed. Nearly. So close to the door when I was suddenly back ‘there’. A delusion, yes, but one so vivid that I knew that not. While my mind wandered so too did my hands and so it was that when Sonja hastened to the forge and called my name I discovered that I had flung the ore to clatter along the floor behind me and I sat rocking myself too and fro. I offered her no explanation. Only that I would see the copper given to any who had use of it.

    In the woods I scarcely had enough warning from bodily senses to defend myself from the goblin that launched itself on me from it’s vantage point in the chestnut tree to my right. I shied away from what length of time it might have been since last it had been that a goblin was more adept at noticing me than I it to instead apply myself to cleansing the wilds of them.

    Ears gave warning of the mephit and I overcame the crippling fear which was my reaction to any winged creature lager than an insect. Pursued by a swarm of goblins it sped towards human male who certainly looked ill equipped to survive an attack of that magnitude. My Lord’s teachings saw an arrow pierce the neck of the swiftest of them and I prepared for the enraged mass of green soon to reach me.

    ((to be continued at some point when I get around to it))


  • An interesting read as always. ^^


  • Living

    By the Helmite temple he spoke to me of the stars in the night sky. Not of the stars, as such, for they were to him as archery is to me; the focus of his philosophising. Sometimes brighter, sometimes darker, and still there even if obscured by a cloud.

    So affectionate was he then. Every word. Every touch. My perfect love. Though I turned from him he said that it was enough for him that he had found me. I so wanted to want to do likewise.

    In the woods we walked until the time came that we rest for the night. It found me nervous, hopeful, and fearful, and soon warmed by the blankets he settled around me, by his cloak, by the food and hot drinks he gave me, and then by the warmth of his body alongside mine.

    With the new day he found me bright and clouds were not the first thing to cover me. Each such day saw them longer in settling until finally the star shone too bright to be obscured.

    His word his bond.

    He taught me of things I had thought ever lost to me. He said that he would remind me of every joy forgotten; that it was what I lived for. That he would remind me of that and have me experience those things and that I would be as I was. He loved me and he would fix me.

    All those things he did.

    Fixed


  • Knowing

    Ondehiraeth. An illness of the spirit that is the loss of joy. It kills us. Without joy the weight of years crushes and we tend towards insanity and self harm. Without hope in dark times is our flesh willed dead. Tis an affliction which strikes those elves not raised by the People; those who do not understand the lesson of apples. Of those I was not one. I more than understood; it was ever part of me. Or had been.

    Under temple bedcovers I lay. No herbs needed in that place that rest be soothing. No visions of torture. No pleas for death. In that holy sanctuary I found the want to be as I was before the Halls of Rage.

    How strange that I could be at peace there. There wrapped in stone, underground, with cobbles and walls keeping me from from the thrum of life. In times past fear and the recall of my first entry to the City had kept me from passing through its gates save there be great need.

    Awakening

    It had been nice. I cannot say that it was not also awkward and painful, but it was nice in parts. He spoke of his doings in the Eastlander war while he cooked for me those special apples of Mariston’s that I had so yearned for in times past. Surely Meril had been practising that he burnt them not. So beautiful his spirit.

    I thought to tell him something of my days apart from him and found that I could speak only of the Hall. Fortunate that a goblin hunter came by lest I had continued on to the Abyss. Meril fussed over me with food, drink, blanket, touch and words. I found that I liked these things well. Those and the knowledge that he would watch over me in rest. No diminution of trust had there been. The very opposite, though that realisation came later.

    My reverie was of our passion. When I woke twas with every fibre of flesh and spirit singing to him. I have ever been easy to read and my body hid naught. Least of all from he who knew it so well. Such beauty lost that I could not but weep for its loss.

    Agony already even before he spoke of many happy times together and of that first kiss in that very place. That I could not bear. I had to be from him and away from the pain and frustration and longing and loss. Goblin drums sounded and I went to war leaving him broken in the druid glen behind me.


  • Picnic

    It was worse than aught gone before. Such hope in him brought fresh truths from me. I screamed at him that my life was gone. He realised then that naught could touch my spirit. Not even him. Or so was my belief. After the passing of a few candle marks he came to me, acting even more as if all was well as of old than ever before since my return. It was as if he had heard none of the many things I had said. It was agony. All of it was. What I had admitted, that I had admitted it, that it was truth, and that it made no difference to his feelings. Some measure of peace I could have had had I believed him to be free of me.

    The shadow of evening brought Lilin and Cike to us. And shadows. And shades. I was in no condition to defend myself. Nor can have been Meril.

    Then I saw a demon. I heard it. My companions stood bathed in blood. The fiend said I was missed. Delusions? So was my belief once calmed.

    To Meril and I came a ‘merchant’ with the appearance of an elderly woman. Her wares were my agony.

    Oh Roland. Liquid pain. How could you.

    Then her words were not ones I understood. With my sanity such a fragile thing well that it was so.

    I was a sweet thing, she told him. Tasty and fine. He should try some of my pain because he would probably like it.

    To me she said it was no jest; that she had quite the stock to last years. Had I never wanted to taste myself, she asked. Would not by boyfriend want to taste me?

    She would hawk it elsewhere, she said. Five hundreds a bottle.

    To whom. Somewhere, for some one or some ones I either am or have been, addiction. Will they come for more?

    The horror of understanding clouds my recall of thoughts then. That I thought her crazed or else crude and speaking of the pleasures of the flesh. Beyond that there is naught.


  • Reverie
    The Day of a Follower, June 2005

    Oh Sy’wyn. I really ought to find him and lift him to a tree! Mirth bubbled inside Eluriel at the image in her head and at the likely stern expression she would see. But yes, she would try to heed the lesson and be less adverse to being touched so. Angharradh knows the way humans keep on grabbing at her hand.

    Hm. Perhaps if she headed to the tree she might find him there? And at least when he turned around it would not be to a troll. But that was a little…hm. With a flash of laughter and a mischievous glint in her eyes, she knew what she would do. She would paint herself green and make some very long sleeves to look like troll arms. Yes!

    The slender elf nimbly gathered her things together and left her overnight camp. How glorious if felt to tip her head up and have her skin warmed by the sun. Eluriel let out a sigh of longing as she watched a hawk diving to its prey. How would it be to launch upwards and feel the air rushing past her like that and to soar and swoop through the ever-changing sky. Would only she had wings! Oh, splendid world. A snatch of blue out of the corner of her eye saw the elf running over that way to sniff at the forget-me-nots. How could folk cut these things and put them in vases! So inordinately silly to do that when instead one could visit them growing amid so many other beautiful things.

    Wonderful! There it is, and oh what a tree. How many Autumns now since she had first tasted its fruit? And still it stands there with that wonderful russet bark and the sweetness of its glossy red fruit overlaying the verdant forest aromas. A glorious day. As are near all. Labelas grant that hers on Toril be many. And how blessed she was to have the strength and nimbleness of limb to scale its trunk. She stretched her supple body as much as she might; exulting in her make. Creator of Elves how I thank you!

    She… ought not. She really ought not. Not with goblins all around… but…

    Shortl after this a naked and rather chilly elf could have been found playing in the stream. Ducking down through the water she’d come back up with a pebble that she dropped from a foot above the rippling surface to send a spray up onto her face then amble away to the riverbed. Her intent was to pile pebbles up on it into the shape of a dolphin, but it was a game, and the river seemed not to want to make a dolphin.

    And so it came to be that she sat in the druid glen holding the first apple from the sack. Hm… she eyed it, spinning it about on its stalk. A knife? No… more fun not. Crunch. And a delighted trill of laughter as she failed to stop the juice that dribbled down from her mouth before it made a tickly drop on the point of her chin. She caught it on her finger and licked it then bit in again. Just a little. Then a little bit more. Crunch crunch crunch a little way at a time. The sound, the texture, and oh the taste. She would have every bit of enjoyment from it that it had to give!

    Pleasure.

    Those deep green eyes. That face. She could see them perfectly. His voice. His scent. The… -presence- that meant she could hardly keep her attention from him. It could not be that one such as he truly meant to spend less time in the City upon the slim chance of seeing her… but oh how she hoped to see him again. And soon. A wave of pleasure went through her in anticipation. The thrill of that most fleeting of kisses… Goosebumps tingled down her spine. And her cheeks. And her arms. Lawkes. Even her thighs! Heart of Gold what rapture.

    She awoke from reverie. She was happy. No. It was fading already.

    Living had been a sensual revelry.
    Living now was to serve her Lord.
    It was all that remained to her.

    But she would try. Meril was expecting her for a picnic. She would try not to hurt him. She would be as kind to him as was possible. Do as others do. The dress she had worn for the wedding of Amith and Jerr? She would try.

  • The Halfling Defence League

    awww meril's so sweet. its time to get lotta "fade into black" with meril for eluriel!


  • Chuckles Took a bit longer to get back to it than I thought! Hugs Wykith

    Intimacy

    Sometimes there was another whose thoughts I called upon. When people expected things of me, I looked to her for what manner of response they required. Her suggestions seemed to ease others around me, and so I listened to her in those times.

    It seemed that any ‘wrong’ response of mine was carried immediately to Meril to pain him. I sought to avoid him entirely.

    In Jiyyd he found me and fussed over wounds whose source I cannot recall. Well may it have been that I had not been aware of sustaining them. He could not look at me without pain. Why would not he leave. For both of us. He free of that wounded air and I free to serve my Lord without the distraction of conversation.

    He had been seeking me. He spoke of my having left the den alone and travelling alone. He had missed me. She told me that it was for me to say I had missed him and that I had had sound reason for being away from him. I could not tell him those things, for they were not true. All I said was bitter, and to that beautiful spirit who had loved a joyous girl it was cruel.

    He spoke of my wasted body and laid out a rare feast that I could not taste. Fruit, meat and nuts. I could remember when apples had a flavour I loved. I could remember when I longed for his touch. But I could not find those things inside of me and so when he reached for my hand it was limp inside his. The sense of touch for me was only to warn against danger

    He continually spoke of the future and of how things would be as they had been. He would wait for winter to melt back into spring and for my skinny trunk to bloom with new leaves. I could not but tell him he was in error. Repeatedly. Because I could not mislead him. Because I remembered.

    I remembered, how could I not? In the lost months there had been only memories of the abyss, but with Tala’s drugs reverie had returned. Every morning I awoke with memories of his touch setting me aflame and I could almost cry for his not being there. But it soon faded to leave nothing behind but memory of having had emotion.

    The other said to tell him these things by way of comfort, and that I did.

    I often thought that I ought not to have spoken of those memories for it gave him false hope. I wanted his feelings for me gone that he might find a new happiness rather than ever be grieving for my loss. He would not believe me. And so it was that with every declaration of love and healing I spoke words to make him understand that what we had lhad was ost for all time.

    Broken. There were parts of me missing and I cared not for their return. When that was true of him, he asked for their return and he was whole and perfect. Mine had been clawed from me and devoured.

    He said that he would remind me of every joy forgotten; that it was what I lived for. That he would remind me of that and have me experience those things and that I would be as I was. He loved me and he would fix me. Even with the passing of years I cannot easily recall this time. He was as broken as me. Trying so hard for the impossible. So many things he did for me and never were there any of the reactions he craved. How he endured it I know not. Such strength has he.


  • Wow… that was a very entertaining, and thoroughly engrossing read.
    Looks for more like kid loosed in candy store after hours