Sanctuary: Battles (3)

[Sandermann]

Sound was the first thing to return to the elf. Sound was always the first thing that returned to her after reverie. Decades of life in the dark, and the need to conceal her lack of darkvision, that and not a few years spent listening to things she was not supposed to hear, years of listening always for the footsteps of the assasin behind her.

She was dead was she not? brief flashes of the last few minutes she remembered. The high priestess, next to her. The Hin, two riv..two humans...and an elf in a cage. Fire, steel, blood flying in long arcs from spinning mithral blades...she had to keep hitting her..break her incantations before they formed...so close.so close. Fire and water, forzen in place as the cavern became an inferno, and through it an elemental of water, smashing her down..down...

But there was sound. She did not move. Muscles honed and trained in the dance of blades obeyed and she overrode the panic she felt welling inside her, and she listened.

*****
A heart...

The ground was frozen. The wind was ice. She hated the cold, and the small wood before her was cold now. She wanted to walk away, to head south again, here there was ice, duty, hatred and intolerance. To the south it was warm, she was free there...there she had love and she could pass amongst friends. Her eyes closed a moment. The children and Sheyresa and Inthara. She trusted them to hold off the enemies around them, but could she trust them to win the fight against themselves...when Jain'n put so much pressure on them, when they were goaded so?

Her foot lifted from the ground and wavered for a second...she stood poised on one leg...uable to decide with her mind, so she chose with her heart, and her heart lay south, many hundreds of leagues south.

The prow of the ship was deserted. The crew avoided their brooding passenger as Luskan slipped away behind them. Se stared blankly out to sea, stared south. She could hear the snap of rigging, the mutters of the suspicious sailors. She calmy drew a blade and began the dance, clearing her mind shelifted her voice along with her steps. She had never been able to sing, words flitted from her mind like leaves before a storm, but her voice lifted wordlessly, trilling and she spun. Leaping up to the rail and dancing, one foot following the other as naturally as she breathed, she forgot her worries and the cold in the praise of the goddess she had just abandoned. Some battles could not be won and she would not fight herself.

....beat

*****

She could hear many voices, all drow. Three dialects, Menzoberranzan, Ched Nassad and the dialect the drow spoke in skullport.
She could hear a harsh laugh. Males making coarse jokes.
She heard steel untensils bang in a pot.
She heard the sharp tap of spiders claws. One spider, very large.
She could hear a drip of water.
She heard a scream.
She heard a door close, below her, close.
She could hear a dull murmur, far away, far above her but there were chambers between her and the sound. Artificaial chambers by the echo.

*****

a heart....

She burst from the door way, a small bundle gripped to her breast, shielded from the flames. She unceremoniously shoved Aliyah through before her, pushing through the scorching flames to safety beyond. As they emerged from the crumpled doorway, the temple erupted in a final conflagration, everything in side destroyed as if in a final display of Banes rage. She grinned weak rivvil god and spat into the flames.
Outside the crowd was already gathering, watchmen running to put out the conflagration that threatened to take most of the north ward out with it. She clung to the bundle, the girl inside was pale, silent. Tel brushed the soot from her borrowed third circle uniform, she left the humans to put out their fire and signalled a wagon to carry her to Helms Hall...this child
at least would have a new life, Kiber would see to it. Though she cringed at the thought of how many had died in there before now...more than had died on her own blade?.

Days later. Tel sat before the roaring fire in the safehaven, her damp boots steaming, she idly fingered her shortsword, she fidgeted. A gnome came in, looking odd in the uniform of the third circle.

"Tel"

"Adnasrin"

They nod to each other

"You must come, the child you brought, Kiber would not keep her. We have her, but there are those in the order rather we kill her. I can not keep her safe long and she will not eat"

Tel blinked, worried. A child? What on Toril was she supposed to do with a child...she could barely afford to feed and clothe herself, she had enemies a plenty and now she was weak, they would be coming for her...

"I..I will see what I can do..." She rose and followed the balding gnome dubiously. Orcs? Gnolls? Giants? Drow? Mindflayers?....these she had faced, but the thought of a child to care for left her in a state of near panic. Two hours later, she stood outside the doors of the tower of the third circle. A small bundle close to her breast, she peeled back the corner of the swaddling and looked down into the red eyes. They looked back from the tiny, obsidan black face. There was nothing there but trust.

Tel quickly re-covered the child
"Kestal**, your name is Kestal"

Some battles could not be won.

..beat

*****

As it always did the next thing to come back to her was her name
I AM Arzit'el , third daughter of quellar varillo, T'rissae d'Eilistraee* like a mantra. If she did not say this to herself she feared she would not be who she was, she clung to it, she clung to her house and she clung to her past. She was what she was, she could be nothing else, Maiden forgive her she WAS drow.
Then Aszune. Her face. Her pain she held so close she would not share it. Her forgiveness, her acceptance. Her tears, her laughter. Above all she would always be there...
She WAS drow, aszune WOULD always be there...

Next came pain.

*****

a heart...

She liked this inn. It was quiet and the kind who came here did not make it obvious they were taking notice of her. The food was adequate, though the wine appaling so she always brought her own. And she found the name ironic.

"The Underdark" was frequented by the agents of her allies and of her enemies. It was something of a neutral ground, she sat sipped her Maerlathan blue, idly wondering which it would be would approach her first.

It was an elf. Clad all in opalescent bule, her skin milk white and her her hair black and silky. An ally, but on her face a very unfamiliar slight tightening of the eyes, She could her the breath rushing in and out of the elfs lungs with uncharacteristic speed....the silver goblet paused halfway to her lips.

Without waiting for the customary chatter and vieled verbal fencing they normally enjoyed so much, the balck haired elf spoke quickly

"Tel, you must come quickly. Things have changed, Ashale'n knows of your plans. She has hired assasins to come for you, the reward is large"

Tel nodded, she finished her wine.
"Xas, I had heard the half-orc had returned to waterdeep"

Tel rose and left, slipping into the obscurity of Waterdeeps crowds. A small, silent and still bundle cradled protectively to her breast. Some battles could not be won and her daughter would not be harmed.

...beat

*****

Tel gasped. She smelled excrement. Her own, she opened her eyes painfully.
The cage was small. She was naked, and her skin covered in burns, it was all she could do to rise and sit against the bars.
She was not dead, worse. She was taken.

She knew what was to come, Maiden forgive her she had seen enough torture to know. She knew the strong would be broken, you could not resist the pain, the torment. You must accept it. You must distance yourself from the body, look upon what happens as if it is someone else.

Tel retreated, she held the images in her mind she would cling to, like a lost child in a might flood. Like an army under siege.
Kestal, her daughter. She WOULD see her daughter again. Aszune, her heart..she had lost too many before, her poor aszune..she could not bear to loose another. Eilistraee...her goddess...she gritted her teeth, but pain lanced in her jaw. Smashed, cracked, she spat broken enamel out and stared at the congealed blood that came with it...

"Ah, it is awake. Vendui Heretic"

Tel looked up, above her, outside the cage, the high priestess she could remember hacking at with her blades looked back. She knew the look in her hot red eyes, she was looking forward to this. Tel smiled for her, displaying her cracked teeth and swollen, puffy lips and cheeks. She winced a little as half formed scabs craked open anew and fresh blood ran down her face.

"Maidens blessings Yathrin, Eilistraee forgives you for what you are about to do...I do not think I shall however"

It began.

___
*T'rissae d'Eilistraee = Sword-maiden of Eilistraee
**Kestal = Hope

[Mikayla]

Awesome.

[Misty]

Wow!

[PensivesWetness]

/me *blinks*
"....and who weeps for the mother... who weeps for the child...."

oh fsck, that was good, Tel, Love...

[Zakharra]

Very well written Sand.

[Dorn]

Top writing mate. Excellent.

[Sandermann]

I bumped the two earlier episodes.

The flashbacks jump forwards and backwards in time, It all depends on what was important to her at the time.