Faerdin
Rune Knight
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Original Story
Rune Knight, He Who Stands Between
Rune Knight, Book Three
I. Twenty-Five Years
II. Why Do You Fight, Rune Knight?
III. Nightingale
IV. Twenty-Five Eternities
V. Whispers in the Night
VI. Why Do You Fight, Doom Knight?
Whispers in the Night
Beginning of the End
His vigil over the blackened core was unending. Unending, and fraught with curiosity.
Simply unthinkable, Faerdin marveled.
This darkness was darker than even the inscrutable darkness which trailed about the outskirts of Sulen'Eska, acting as a shroud- a shield from the eyes of their adversaries. This darkness was darker than even the Tyrant's heart. This darkness was darker than the elemental power from which he himself was empowered. The elemental power from which the beloved Voidstar was empowered.
It should not be. Yet it was.
Even the heartening hum of the forest's wildlife was muted before the shadows which congealed and writhed before Faerdin's sight. Were it not encapsulated in a ring of light-charged runes, it would surely sink into the earth and corrupt the land. It was all that remained of that mysterious being. The being responsible for the Shattering and for all the agony that followed.
Faerdin's eyes narrowed.
Yet the power did not belong solely to the shadow-being. It could not. The power was so strange, so alien, and yet so familiar, akin to rereading long forgotten scripture in a language that was entirely new. Regardless of the source, darkness is darkness. This was darkness, and yet it was not.
With a sigh, the Rune Knight reclined against the tree behind him. Every moment that passes is another I am torn away from my love, he despaired. There must be something- anything I can do to free her from The Rose... I cannot lose her...
In his despair, the golden runes around the core flickered.
I will not lose her... Even if I must upheave the world, I will not lose her!
He drew a shuddering breath. Faerdin's eyes snapped open to see a tendril extended from the core, buried in his heart. The only sound in his ears was that of a slow, throbbing pulse- thrumming through his fingers as the tendril speared his center and drew power from within, Faerdin's hands shaking as he grasped the tendril and wrenched at it like a soldier fighting to close their torn chest.
You are weak. You follow them. You are their puppet.
From the darkened seed arose a horror that defied description. Tentacles whipped through the air as though reality itself was prey to be devoured and torn asunder. Maws deeper than a thousand chasms bared their teeth and howled to the moon that was extinguished in its shadow. Eyes fell upon Faerdin with so piercing a gaze that his very soul felt stripped bare.
"NO!"
Aequival's blade burned through the shadows with righteous light as the tendril in his heart was rent in two. With wild abandon the Rune Knight leaped forward, hacking and slashing at tentacles and jaws and eyes only to find two more in the place of those fallen. Yet he did not give in. His fear had whipped him into such a fervor that all he could do was fight it.
His fear, and his love.
Embrace me, interloper.
"I am not going to die!"
Maddening cackles came from all around to weigh down on his shoulders. They resonated through the dark core before him. The tendrils encompassed him, the eyes bared down upon him, and the maws tore into the flesh of his soul with terrible relish. Yet worst of all, that laughter came even from the core of his soul. You are dead.
"NO!"
Then, as quickly as the creature had descended upon him, it was gone.
Faerdin fell to the earth and panted against its cradling embrace as he looked on at the blackened core- still safe behind his veil of sigils. The air was still alive with the chirping of crickets and call of wolves in the distance. The darkness around Sulen'Eska was still as a blanket of warmth to its denizens.
Yet Faerdin continued his vigil unending. Unending, yet fraught with curiosity.
< Message edited by Faerdin -- 6/15/2014 21:29:34 >
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