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Topic: The Burden of Sin (Read 610 times)
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Minshara Kohl
Adventurer
Posts: 81
Gods? Buggered if I know.
Race: Human
Location: The Quegan
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It was always funny to note that insane people always had a point.
And their points almost always made the rest of the population uneasy. After all, many a civilized country had done terrible things on account of the opinions of madmen, which at a particular point in time, made actual sense.
"There were two more," Min asked despite knowing that it was rather redundant. "watching me? Gods..."
She thought of what to tell Myrnal. Apologise, her conscience nudged, always good to apologise especially when someone is in this shape because of you.
"I'm sorry..." her hands pointed to Myrnal's injuries. The words somehow sounded weak, despite the sincerity.
A vibration travelled through the ship's frame as the anchor was pulled from the seabed. Min licked her lips, her throat parched from the building anxiety of a sea voyage. I have neither life nor death; I make the Way my Life and Death... Already the sixth line of the verse, the thought layered itself upon another, and Minshara was on the brink of her fear.
Perhaps, now was the time she stopped acting like a paranoid basketcase toward Myrnal, who seemed to bear nothing but good intentions... and if Myrnal wanted her dead, she wouldn't be breathing, much less contemplating the idea.
"I was travelling from Nijon, on a ship seven years ago. A storm must have broken out or maybe it was something else but I was basically thrown overboard. I found myself in Tarsis, fortunate enough to wash up on the main island," she started to explain. "I was starving, wounded and sick... and I didn't speak a word of Common..."
Small fingertips rubbed her eyes as she tried to find the next few lines. The creak of the hull began to fill her ears. Finally, we're moving... her heart began to beat faster, some part of her mind fearfully remembered something she consciously couldn't. Minshara took a deep breath, her fingers curled tightly over the ripped hem of her skirt, knuckles and joints white with effort.
"Anyway," she went on with eyes closed, forcing the fear out of her mind through refocusing on something else, "My parents... they took me in, gave me name and a life... everything that I lacked. The thing is I don't remember what happened to me before I washed up here. I don't remember my original name or which part of Nijon I came from. I only had this..." the kaiken came into view, moonlight glistened off the sharp end. She handed it to Myrnal for a closer look. "It was in my hands when I woke up on the beach. I think it belonged to me... Other than that, absolutely nothing. My adoptive parents, they wanted me to go find out but I never wanted to... partly because I was warned against it. In fact, all that preparation till the morning I found Socks was pretty half-hearted... After that, it was clear that things were more serious than I assumed and now it seems, for the first time, I actually want to find out what happened."
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A story can have only one true ending. Even as the stranger felt compelled to commit her final words to paper she did it knowing they must never be read. To see the sum of her work was to see inside her own emptiness the heart of a destroyer not a creator. And yet, reflected back upon her at last she could see her own ending. And in this final act of destruction a chance to give what she could not receive.
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Myrnal Shalienza
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The ninja did her best to ignore Minshara's apology. The idea that her condition, her health or lack thereof, would affect someone else's decisions or feelings still made Myrnal profoundly uncomfortable. There had been no other way, and it was better that someone like Myrnal get hurt than Minshara.
It's my job to hurt people and to get hurt. My place in the cosmic machine, Myrnal thought with a wry smile. Not hers.
Myrnal looked down at the dagger in her hand. She turned it over, rocking it back and forth and letting the weak light catch on the bladed edge and flow down to the tip. She looked up. "I assume you know what this is? Little tanto like this... they're for women." She looked down again at it. It was a work of art, and even Myrnal's own collection had nothing in it like this. Nothing so unashamedly and deliberately beautiful. "They're for important women."
She handed it back. "But from what you're telling me, you don't remember jack s#&^, do you? That's got to suck."
Myrnal rubbed the back of her neck. She had some sense of where her acquaintance was coming from. She'd wondered sometimes when she was in her early teens if she might not be happier without her memories. She used to lie in bed wracked with guilt because the only person who remembered her family was a terrible daughter, a failure of a sister. That's what she was. What else could she call a girl who wished she could forget her own mother, her little brother, her life before the Shalienzas adopted her?
She used to hate herself for wanting a normal life like other girls her age were living. But she could never have a normal life, and she knew that now. She didn't deserve it. She deserved to carry the memory of that last day on her shoulders alone. She deserved the knowledge that she'd let him down, that sweet little boy who was depending on his big sister to protect him. She deserved to feel her mother's hatred in her nightmares for being the one who lived and not him. Perhaps more than anything she deserved the knowledge that every life she took dug her deeper into that inescapable damnation.
A normal life wasn't for her, and maybe it was best that people like Minshara be shielded from the knowledge of what kind of person Myrnal really was. After all, if everyone gave themselves up to wandering and death and terror and vengeance to protect a certain way of life, there'd be no one left to live it.
That knowledge alone kept her going when she got tired of the blood on her hands, of a life filled with pain, disappointment... when the loneliness that stretched from one edge of her vision to the other finally threatened to wear her down to nothing. If she didn't have her memories, she wouldn't have any idea what she'd lost, and she'd have no reason to keep it from happening again. If nothing else, she would always have that.
"Eh. Sorry. Wouldn't know anything about it. How are your parents, anyway?"
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Minshara Kohl
Adventurer
Posts: 81
Gods? Buggered if I know.
Race: Human
Location: The Quegan
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"Papilonn mentioned it was a wedding present..." the sentenced trailed off as Minshara tucked the weapon back into the folds of her sleeves, her fingers stroked it gently before she put it away. "I can't imagine being married. My parents will be fine. I'll write to them once I get to Narim. Anyway..." her eyes caught something moving in the dark.
Two tall and broad figures had entered the lower deck. They were hooded of course, and being the last to enter; they sat down at the bottom of the stairs, near the entrance. Words were exchanged for a moment in voices Min couldn't hear. Instead, she kept watching, glad that Myrnal had chosen the darkest part of the deck to hide them both. "Myrnal... look!"
The men drew their hoods free from their faces. The shorter but broader figure had long dark hair up to his shoulders and rather mellowed skin, his eyes were obsidian and seemed to scan the deck as if it was his second nature to do so. Leather armour covered his frame, and underneath those, Minshara knew that there was a myriad of weapons besides the ones she could see. The second figure was taller, and seemed the complete opposite to the first. He wasn't as broad across but he was no less imposing. There was something familiar about the way he cocked his head to one side as he listened to the other speak.
The ship moved across the inky dark sea, causing the cracked moonlight to slip it from a variety of angles. If only for the briefest moment, two brilliant gray eyes flashed in the darkness, as did the platinum hair and... the twin swords on the man's back. And of course, the ears. Min knew that details on their own meant nothing. It was the amount of coincidence and the context that made something like this mattered. She knew who the half-elf was. She had helped him.
"I don't need to tell you that I think those are the two..." she whispered softly, shrouded safely in the black shadows and well out of hearing range. "But I think they were staying at the Jade Dragon the whole time my parents were there. I don't recognize the first man... but the half-elf, I've seen quite a bit of him around the tavern and once, at the temple."
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A story can have only one true ending. Even as the stranger felt compelled to commit her final words to paper she did it knowing they must never be read. To see the sum of her work was to see inside her own emptiness the heart of a destroyer not a creator. And yet, reflected back upon her at last she could see her own ending. And in this final act of destruction a chance to give what she could not receive.
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Myrnal Shalienza
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Myrnal glanced up from the corner. She sat back, bending one knee and leaning against the back wall as she inspected their fellow passengers. She sighed, and tipped her head until her neck cracked. "Well," she said, resting her wounded right arm over her lap. "Okay. Duly noted."
She watched them a bit. An elf or half elf or quarter elf or some other proportion of pointy-eared folk with a couple of nice blades. Probably a dual-wielder like herself. Another guy who looked suitably dark and mysterious, and certainly shifty enough to be worth watching out for. She looked from them to the physician at her side. If something happened, Myrnal had better be prepared to compensate for her injuries. She couldn't expect Minshara to fend them off herself.
The ninja looked back to the men. She addressed Minshara in a low voice, as for whatever reason whispers in the dark attracted more attention than they averted. They immediately sounded suspicious, at least to Myrnal. "I can keep an eye on them if you're worried. I can watch your back if you'll watch mine."
She looked down to the knives at her belt, the portion of her collection she wore openly for convenience's sake. She stood, pressing one fist against the wall to brace herself, but the sudden rush of blood to her body left her dizzy and her vision darkened momentarily. She blinked a few times and took a step back against the wall. Pressing her hand to her forehead she sat back down where she had been.
Myrnal noted with some anxiety that she must have lost a lot more blood than she'd originally estimated. No reason to bother Minshara with it. If the healer hadn't already noted it, Myrnal saw no reason why she ought to be bothered with it.
Whatever. It's probably not even blood loss. I can't have been hurt that badly. I mean, I'm still walking, so I'm probably still coming out ahead. I bet it's just fatigue. I'm dead f$%#ing tired. That's probably all it is. I just... need to sit down maybe. Or lie down. Or be unconscious for a while. That sounds good. Maybe that should be the plan.
She kept her voice low, and turned her head to face Minshara to make sure that she had the healer's attention. "I haven't gotten much sleep these last few days because it would have left you on your own. So, uh... if you aren't violently opposed or anything, I think I'm going to try and pass out for a while. Wake me up if I need to yell at someone or you need anything stabbed, cut, lacerated or otherwise injured with knives. Deal? .....Thanks." She didn't stop to hear Minshara's reply. She leaned back against the planks in the wall and closed her eyes.
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Altair Dusk
Adventurer
Posts: 44
Night is falling, you’ve come to journey's end
Race: Human
Location: Tarsis
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Altair contemplated Demetri’s simple question as they boarded the ship. He knew that the half elf was attempted some form of conversation and he felt a tinge of guilt considering how he had been so quick to answer and dismiss several of his other questions in favor of silence. He felt uncomfortable talking to someone this personally and it has been a long time since he’s actually had something close to a friend.
As the ship set sail, the strong wood creaked and moved across the calm waters, Altair leaned over the bow and gazed out into the sea. They were in full view of everyone now, an unwise situation but being in a public place, they had nothing to worry if danger followed them here. If needed, he knew they could disappear with ease.
Taking the water pouch from his belt hidden under his long leather coat, Altair took a few desired gulps, then offered it to Demetri, as a gesture of friendship.
“From what I remember, I’ve been in Míriel all my life. I grew up there, with my mother. We lived on the streets, she and I, but we were happy,”
They passed a small island, remote and desolate in the middle of the sea. In his heart, he felt that he was that island. A man whom stood alone against the weather with no one to lean on, but not a complain escaped his lips.
His solitude gave him strength and focus and those were essential to him.
Turning to face Demetri, Altair said, “But happiness as we know it, does not last very long,”
A small silence between them, one that didn’t seem awkward, but instead, came with the reassuring acknowledgement of that bittersweet sentiment.
“What of yourself then? Where is it you hail from?”
Might as well go with the flow.
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There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea.
You became the light on the dark side of me. |
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Minshara Kohl
Adventurer
Posts: 81
Gods? Buggered if I know.
Race: Human
Location: The Quegan
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The Chapter on Tarsis has officially ended! And after 6 pages, we're all finally together...  Onward to Narim, everyone... and don't worry I've reposted the last three posts to make things easier. |
A story can have only one true ending. Even as the stranger felt compelled to commit her final words to paper she did it knowing they must never be read. To see the sum of her work was to see inside her own emptiness the heart of a destroyer not a creator. And yet, reflected back upon her at last she could see her own ending. And in this final act of destruction a chance to give what she could not receive.
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Hidden Realms
