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The Dark Messenger

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The Dark Messenger Empty The Dark Messenger

Post by Ronson Sun Aug 08, 2010 7:55 pm



By the flickering light of a gilded lantern in Felwithe, a slender high elf quietly sat on her bed in a lavish room with walls of marble. She carefully wrapped her robe around her body for warmth and drew her knees to her chest. For a good while she stared into the flitting shadows on the wall with sullen eyes. She began to rock back and forth, trying to ease the ache of her heart.

A cold draft blew through the room. The elf barely noticed it but for a loose lock of long hair that tickled her cheek as it danced in the air -- hair that shone with unequalled strands of gold and honey. She caught it and wrapped it around her pale finger and examined it idly. She noticed for the first time how its colour was dull and hardened by streaks of gray.

Her pointed elven ears perked ever so slightly as the familiar and comforting clanking of armoured limbs drew nearer. She often missed wearing a gleaming suit of armour herself. Her head turned toward the hall outside her room and lifted just enough to allow her captivating aquamarine eyes to peer over her arm and settle on the approaching guard.

The guard did not dare look in the eyes of the lovely elf out of fear and admiration. It was a great honor to him and his family to be given the task of guarding the most lauded high elf in Norrath's history, the swordmaiden and Chosen of Tunare, Firiona Vie.

"All is well, your highness?" the Koada'Dal guard asked with reserve.

"Aye, as always," Firiona Vie replied softly.

"Grand. Do you have any needs or requests?" he said.

"Indeed, but none you could aid me with . . . I do thank you for asking. Please close my door. I wish to sleep," Firiona Vie's voice was flat, carrying none of the sweet melodies it sang in the past.

The vigilant and accomplished daughter of King Tearis Thex and the mortal chosen by Tunare to bring the Balance of Nature back to Norrath had become someone most didn't recognize. Very few knew where the princess was kept, but the few that did, including her father, were concerned about Firiona's quiet moods and how forlorn she'd grown. While her outer beauty was as striking as ever, her demeanor became meek.

The guard obliged the princess' wish and closed her door, but Firiona could not sleep and had no plans to. She was tired of being watched and treated like a child. For a long time now, she'd understood and appeased her father's need and obsession with protecting her. But that is not what weighed on her mind and spirit.

As Firiona was lost in thought, three rapid and muted taps came from her door. Surprised, and somewhat annoyed, Firiona stood up from her bed and covered herself with a robe.

The only unannounced visitor she had in years had been her father.

"You may enter," she said with a tiresome sigh.

The wooden door opened slowly and a figure in a dark cloak stood before her, its face shrouded by a hood.

Alarmed, but showing no fear, Firiona stepped backward, and reached for a dagger she kept under her pillow.

"Reveal yourself! I demand it!" Firiona yelled, the dagger secure in her grip. Looking beyond the mysterious creature, Firiona could see no guard in the hall.

"Do not be afraid," said the cloaked figure in a strangely comforting whisper. "Who I am is not important, but what I have to tell you is. You already know what you must answer for. You already know the ills that have befallen this world and that it is all because of you."

Though this awkward figure did not move toward her or strike out, Firiona felt as though she'd been stabbed in her heart. Her posture wilted and her frown softened.

"I know not what it is you mean," Firiona said, her voice betraying a hint of her sadness. "I know not how you slipped past my guards either, but you must leave before I am forced to defend myself."

"I am not here to harm you. I am here to beg you to make it right. Be responsible for your failures, Firiona," the voice urged and accused. "You betrayed the trust of the Mother of All. You let Tunare's most precious gift -- the Lifeguide -- out of your grasp."

No one had so keenly said what Firiona had believed all these years. Her vision was blurred by the wells of sadness in her eyes. Her shoulders slumped and she let the dagger fall to the floor.

"I know. I know . . . it is my fault. Tunare has left me. All of us. It is my fault the veil of evil begins to draw itself over Norrath. I fear the Lifeguide is gone forever!" Firiona sobbed, her hands covering her face.

"No, child. That is what I have come to tell you. The Lifeguide remains as strong as ever and is within your grasp. You must go in search of it. Your heart and gift as Tunare's chosen will lead you to it. You are the only one who can find it," the voice said. "If you truly listen, you will find it. Even now."

"After so long, how could it be? I have not felt it in so long," Firiona murmured. "Wait . . . why should I trust you? You are too cowardly to even show your face."

"I am but a poor messenger with an illness. You know my words are true. I can see you feel it now," the voice said sternly, watching as Firiona's countenance shone with life. "You may choose not to save yourself and us. You are free to choose to sit here idly and not take this matter into your hands. In doing that, you become as great a villain as the evil you set out to overcome. You have an obligation . . ."

"Indeed, I do. I shall get my mentor Galeth, and I must contact my companions Dagda, Dweezil, Lyriae, Sionachie, Dabner . . . and . . . and our best of Felwithe and Kelethin to aid me. Where is it? Where must I go?" Firiona chattered, her eyes darting and brilliant.

"Foolish, selfish child! No!" the voice said harshly. "Why must you continually endanger your closest friends, mentors, and kin, for your own gain? Time and time again you march these good folk toward death! I'm sure Galeth's scars from the Bloody Kithicor battle with Innoruuk's Chosen still sting. Should you not carry this burden alone?"

The words were biting, yet Firiona saw wisdom in them.

"Perhaps," Firiona said, glaring and searching for a face beneath the hood. "But know that I alone shall choose how and when to right this with my own hands. Only I can make the choice to test the truth of your words. If this is not an evil fabrication, then it would be me who brings back the love and care of the Mother. You have no influence here."

"Indeed. You must follow your heart and I believe you will. It will guide you. I might suggest that you remain in disguise and you must escape the confines of your father's smothering in order to succeed. You must find your way out of Felwithe unnoticed. I cannot help you more than that and I must take my leave.

"One last thing. Tell me, stranger. Who are you?"

"All will be revealed in time. Now, I beg of you to redeem your errors and restore the Mother's love. Tunare's blessings upon you," the figure quickly turned creating a breeze as its cloak unfurled. It walked out the door and closed it.

Firiona ran to the door and opened it, but the stranger was gone and her guard came ambling down the hall on his regular patrol.

"What is it, your highness?" the guard said, his eyes cast to the wall.

"Nothing . . . actually, wait. Bring my armour, would you? I long to feel its weight on my shoulders once again to comfort me," she asked.

"It is under lock and key, your highness. Your father forbids any to touch it," the guard said nervously.

"Don't be foolish. He meant, all but me, its rightful owner. Do fetch it and hurry. I grow tired . . . You would not want me to complain of your willfulness to my father, would you, knight?" Firiona said with a wry grin.

"No your highness. I shall return forthwith," he said as he turned to walk up the hall. Firiona heard him ask another guard to fill his post for a time.

It wouldn't be long now, she thought. Firiona's hands shook with the anticipation of adventure and of turning the tides of her failures.

Soon she would embark on her quest to reunite with the Lifeguide and bring Tunare, the Mother of All, back into her heart and to the rest of those who would follow her.

And while the seconds passed like hours, she plotted her escape from Felwithe.

Ronson

Posts : 654
Join date : 2010-07-24

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