Post by Sadori on May 19, 2006 15:37:05 GMT -8
"Mirshann. Deal with her."
The message entered her mind via the shared link with a chilling clarity. The simple phrase clicking over the last tumbler of the lock that would open a door within, uleashing the weapon she was meant to be. Until that moment, she had known nothing of her true nature.
Without hesitation, she bore down hard and fast on the traitor. Blades flashing and body moving in counterpoint. This dance was for the Mother. A red haze blinded her vision and a righteous fury filled her as never before. A fury not her own, but driving her, demanding retribution.
As the traitor fell, the haze dimmed. Blood dripped slowly from the tips of her blades into the grass as she stood over the prone form of Celebrant Christana. The fallen woman's pulse slow and weak, whispering to her heightened senses and assuring her that the traitor yet lived. The words spoken in a voice both calm and clear, came not from her own mind, but both outside and within her. Given by Shilen with the intent that her Mirshann d'Elghinn would speak them, the pronouncement was bourne out with an iron edge.
By the will and might of the All Mother, Shilen...
I send you to the Shadow, without the mercy of Her Embrace.
You are called Traitor!
Turning on a heel, she bowed low before Olorae and then moved off a ways, adrenaline coursing through her still. And a voice like as none she had ever heard befrore fell like a balm on her ears. "And So it is. And so it shall be, as it ever was and ever will be. Thrice kissed by the Abyss and never interred therein. You are not forsaken, you are my own. And your purpose is only as yet begun." Gasping softly to herself, and blinking away tears as Elder Olorae approached and Zaiere assured the Traitor was not dead, she whispered hastily.
Bel'la Dos, Ilhar.
The message entered her mind via the shared link with a chilling clarity. The simple phrase clicking over the last tumbler of the lock that would open a door within, uleashing the weapon she was meant to be. Until that moment, she had known nothing of her true nature.
Without hesitation, she bore down hard and fast on the traitor. Blades flashing and body moving in counterpoint. This dance was for the Mother. A red haze blinded her vision and a righteous fury filled her as never before. A fury not her own, but driving her, demanding retribution.
As the traitor fell, the haze dimmed. Blood dripped slowly from the tips of her blades into the grass as she stood over the prone form of Celebrant Christana. The fallen woman's pulse slow and weak, whispering to her heightened senses and assuring her that the traitor yet lived. The words spoken in a voice both calm and clear, came not from her own mind, but both outside and within her. Given by Shilen with the intent that her Mirshann d'Elghinn would speak them, the pronouncement was bourne out with an iron edge.
By the will and might of the All Mother, Shilen...
I send you to the Shadow, without the mercy of Her Embrace.
You are called Traitor!
Turning on a heel, she bowed low before Olorae and then moved off a ways, adrenaline coursing through her still. And a voice like as none she had ever heard befrore fell like a balm on her ears. "And So it is. And so it shall be, as it ever was and ever will be. Thrice kissed by the Abyss and never interred therein. You are not forsaken, you are my own. And your purpose is only as yet begun." Gasping softly to herself, and blinking away tears as Elder Olorae approached and Zaiere assured the Traitor was not dead, she whispered hastily.
Bel'la Dos, Ilhar.