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Into the Icy Darkness II: The Next Generation
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<blockquote data-quote="Emperor Valerian" data-source="post: 1703852" data-attributes="member: 15043"><p>Ananias felt warm all over as the girl spun to face him, a feeling like warm butter flowing over his body, coming from the large stone clutched in his left palm. It was about the size of a large apple, a perfect sphere that was solid ruby, polished and opaque. The once king fondly thought of only a few minutes before... when he’d first laid eyes on his lost prize, flames seemingly licking in its depths.</p><p></p><p>As her words echoed in his mind, his brow furrowed. <em>He will carry the stone for me? What stone? They couldn’t be speaking of this one... only I can carry it! I am the last of the line...</em> He looked over to the craggy old man next to him, clad in the bright armor of a paladin of Pelor. Elsidor’s disguise couldn’t hide the malacious smile that filled his lips.</p><p></p><p>“Very good!” he heard the girl stammer, “Now, hand me the stone, as you promised! Your reward will be the fall of the Imperial line!” she called, making Ananias raise his own disguised eyebrows. <em>It seems Elsidor was busy before he fetched me... the drow is smarter than I assumed.</em> Ananias’ past life had been filled with intrigue and treachery... and he refused to assume that this drow had raised him and would honorably treat to a bargain.</p><p></p><p>“Lady Eyrna... poor creature,” he heard the drow rumble next to him through his disguise, “you see... I have the Fire Stone now. I have no need for you! Go ahead and kill the Crown Prince... it shall only make our job easier!” As Ananias watched, the wizened crone of Pelor shift, shrinking in height and darkening in complexion until an ebony skinned drow stood, his white eyes blazing. Elsidor’s five companions came up behind him, and they too shifted back to their natural forms, shrugging off the drow’s powerful magic.</p><p></p><p>The woman’s eyes below them blazed with fury. <em>I would too,</em> Ananias wanted to chuckle, watching her tremble as she held the dirk close to the young boy’s neck. The once king found his gaze drawn to the young man, who likely had no idea what was befalling him.</p><p></p><p><em>He has red hair... rather odd. There are no redheaded noble families in the Eastern Empire, where the Emperor comes from...</em> the once King rumbled, before assuming some intermarriage had occurred. Seeings that his erstwhile allies had shifted back, he closed his eyes, and let his magic wash over him. The cloaks and furrows of Pelor’s servant washed away, leaving a tall, gaunt man, a mop of red hair cascading from the crown of his head. </p><p></p><p><em>Why do the drow always taunt?</em> he thought as Elsidor continued to mock his former patron as they walked down the temple steps, ever closer to the gate. Bored, Ananias let his gaze look over the rest of the motley people gathered in the plaza. He saw several paladins of Hieroneous, marks for destruction in his first demonstration of what the stone could do. He saw several wounded black cloaks, some with crossbows, some with bows, some unarmed, some with swords. Behind the woman and her captive ‘prince’ was another girl... a few years younger, looking on in abject horror, what looked to be a whip at her side.</p><p></p><p>Then his eyes caught <em>her</em>.</p><p></p><p>Off in the distance, laying on the ground, but not dead. Ananias’ eyes alone saw she wasn’t moving, but his other senses told her her heart still beat. Instantly, the once king froze up, the last image of his previous demonic life flashing across his vision. The bard charging him, screaming a deathcry, a dagger high above her head... then blackness.</p><p></p><p>Dark thoughts immediately flooded his mind, plotting how to get rid of this woman. His mind grew so focused that he did not see the enraged woman holding the prince charge at Elsidor. HE did hear <em>her</em> death scream, as her mouth suddenly began spewing blood. Her charge collapsed a few feet in front of the drow’s feet, and he watched as she gurgled, clawing at the air.</p><p></p><p><em>Ah... drowned in her own blood. How... quaint,</em> Ananias thought. He then looked down, towards the still stunned gaggle. “May I kill off the prince with the demonstration of the Stone?” he asked Elsidor. <em>My stone...</em> Ananias thought. Only <em>he</em> would know how to use it properly, not the drow, nor any of these fools below. When Elsidor nodded, Ananias gave a wicked smile.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Harrapias stood, his feet feeling like lead as he watched the Erelion daughter run at the drow, only to see her collapse, blood streaming from her mouth. He saw the drow lean in to hear something the tall red-head next to him said, and the redhead grin at the crown prince.</p><p></p><p>He wasn’t sure what the brief comment was about, but the look in the man’s eyes told him everything he needed to know. Harrapias’ blade was out, and from somewhere within him, the old warrior found energy again. He leapt forward, a lion charging towards his prey.</p><p></p><p><em>I must get close! If I can, their spells will not avail them when steel slices their throats!</em> He heard a suddenly rush, the clank of armor, and knew his paladins were close behind. A brief, unsaid prayer to his protector echoed in his mind, as closed with the two wizards...</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>For a brief instant, it all appeared as from a bard’s song... the paladins streaming forward, blades above their heads, their echoing call, “Valor!” thundering around the plaza. Until Ananias pulled forth the Fire Stone.</p><p></p><p>The air all across the plaza seemed to grow thick, shimmering as if the stones beneath were baking in heat. The shimmering fell into globs... red sticky globs, that quickly grew and shaped into the forms of men in full armor. </p><p></p><p>Thousands of them, covering the plaza, slowly rising to form an army...</p><p></p><p>The paladins streamed forward as Ananias’ army formed, still coming... until Elsidor’s hand jutted out from his body as a craggy rock overlooks an impudent sea. The elderly lead paladin, along with his comrades, was suddenly lifted skyward. Shouts, cries and screams arose from the throats of some of the paladins, but the old man in the lead merely glared.</p><p></p><p>Elsidor gave a vicious snarl, and with a horrific snap of crunching bones and shattered skulls, he squeezed his hand shut. What fell to the earth were not the bodies of men, merely piles of pulverized blood, bone and gore.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Raven’s eyes went wide in horror at the scene of mangled ruin that now covered the entrance to the House of Pelor. The two wizards and their five companions started down the stairs, their eyes focused not on her, but on the coughing, pain filled form laying in front of her.</p><p></p><p>Valaron.</p><p></p><p><em>They mean to kill him!</em> she panicked, seeing their approach. <em>I need to do something! Anything!</em> No thought crossed her mind of what would happen if she interfered, no fear for herself entered her mind. Instead, only fear of what these two wizards would do, now that one of them possessed the Fire Stone.</p><p></p><p>Then her mind stopped.</p><p></p><p><em>It can only be carried by someone of Caladron blood! Yet that red head is carrying it... which means he must be...</em></p><p></p><p>Her knees quaked again, as she saw Ananias coming closer. The stories her father had told her echoed in her mind... of a beast powerful enough to nearly kill their group of heroes, a towering monilith of ice. Somehow, seeing that creature in the form of a man was all the more frightening.</p><p></p><p>The four dark drow behind the lead one started forward, past Ananias and Elsidor, towards her love. <em>What can I do?</em> her mind raced. Her mind flashed back, towards a time six years before... and a lecture from her father.</p><p></p><p><em>”You should NOT have gone in there with that young dragon! How could you have known it was safe?” he asked her, eyes filled not only with anger but deep concern.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“It was safe!” she heard her own voice reply, bubbly and young. “Valaron, Vintressa, Rose and Shawn were with! Amarine was there too, and if it wasn’t safe, we could’ve fought him off, just like you fought off a dragon, daddy!” she replied smartly, hoping she’d trapped her father.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>“No, my dear. It’s not the same. You had a choice whether to fight. In those stories when I fought those demons, those monsters, I had NO choice. There are times where one must be prudent, and avoid danger... and there are times where one must rush danger to overcome it. This was clearly the former, NOT the latter.”</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>...There are times where one must rush danger...</em> Raven’s mind repeated. <em>Valaron needs my help! He can’t defend himself! I have to defend him!</em> Gone were the normal voices chastising her that she was a mage, not a combatant. Gone were the feelings that she wasn’t up to the task... all replaced with a simple desperate realization of, <em>I must do this!</em> </p><p></p><p>As if unbidden, her hand rose, pointing at the drow closing with Valaron. There was no repitition of an incantation learned at the Academy, there was no moment of contemplation to focus her energy. The stream of magic running down her arm became a torrent, her desperation, her fear building its power. It rose, frothing higher and higher in her mind, thundering down her arm, until exploding from her fingertips.</p><p></p><p>Pain shot through her arm, and a primal scream echoed over the noise of the unholy army assembling behind her. A brilliant, explosive crash flashed through the air, a blinding burst of light causing her eyes to see stars. </p><p></p><p>As the noise died, the purple and green spots in her eyes cleared, and she saw five piles of dust where the drow once stood. Her arm still flared with pain from the untrained, uncontrolled magical blast, yet she found her feet walking forward, towards the other two, her nagiaka once again out, away from her body. </p><p></p><p>“Oho! A fighter we have here!” the drow openly mocked her. “Her little burst of magic makes her think she is strong!”</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Ananias blinked in surprise at the girl’s blast of power. Part of his brain was rather impressed, that so much magic could flow from someone so young. Another part found her foolish, especially when she started advancing on Elsidor. <em>I could have used someone like her in my army that day...</em> he reflected on a time long ago. There was fear in her eyes, but it was controlled, used for extra strength and speed, not soiling her trousers.</p><p></p><p>“I am Raven Dice, daughter of Maestress Elenya Dice, chief of the Kulloden Mage’s Guild,” the girl said coldly, precisely, as she moved forward. “My powers pale in comparison to those of House Caladron, whose son and blood you are harassing!” she growled. She kept advancing, even as Elsidor laughed at her.</p><p></p><p>Ananias’ mind, however, was hung on her last phrase. <em>House Caladron? It can’t be... my line is dead! Killed off by the Emperors of Iskeldrun!</em> He looked up towards Elsidor in confusion, as he let a small burst of magic he had not used in a long long time towards her.</p><p></p><p>“The Imperial line will soon be a ragged house, not worthy of note!” the drow snapped back angrily, his hand already rising in power. “None care of the power of House Caladron, not the power of its Emperor, its Empress, or this jackled fool of a prince!” Elsidor’s hand began to glow with power...</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Raven felt nothing but pain... immediate and vicious pain, as if someone’s hand was wrapped around her heart, squeezing and squeezing it, not letting her breathe. She felt her nagaika slip from her grip, the pain growing more and more intense as the drow’s hand glowed more and more. Finally, she felt a burning in her chest, as her lungs screamed for air.</p><p></p><p>Suddenly, the burning stopped, and the pain abated. She felt her heart beating again, as she fell to the ground, gasping hard for air. She turned her eyes towards the drow, only to see the drow himself hanging just inches off of the ground, as if an invisible set of hands had held him there.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Ananias’ blood boiled, as he stared down Elsidor in his fury.</p><p></p><p><em>”I thought you said my House was dead!? My family ruined!?”</em> he roared, his hand still outstretched, fingers splayed wide as Elsidor continued to float. </p><p></p><p>“She lies! She lies! You would believe that girl who openly defends the son of the Emperor instead of the elf that raised you from your deadly slumber!?” Elsidor rasped in indignation. “Fool!”</p><p></p><p>“She tells the truth!” Ananias snapped back. <em>I know! I felt it through the small magic I judged petitions with when I was a noble long ago!</em> “My family lives, and rules from Iskeldrun! <em>You would have me kill my own blood!?</em>”</p><p></p><p>“It did not stop your great-granddaughter!” Elsidor rasped back. “Now drop me, you fool, before you do something we both will regret!”</p><p></p><p>“I shan’t regret watching you choke! Dung left by mother earth!” Ananias shouted back. <em>You are in no position to threaten me, scum!</em></p><p></p><p>“If you kill me,” Elsidor’s voice was growing thin a reedy, as the air to his lungs was being cut more and more, “you will die too! The magic that raised you is tied to me! If... I...die...you...die...” The drow kicked his feet, trying to wriggle loose, and he managed to open his airway a little more. “You agreed this for the Imperial crown?! Its still yours, if you let me go!” the drow offered. “All yours!”</p><p></p><p>Ananias regarded him darkly, thoughts crossing and recrossing his mind. The images he’d constructed from the drow’s descriptions... his descendent, the Countess, and her baby burning to death in a fiery pyre... the cruel Emperor Alexander supervising the rapine and destruction of his city. </p><p></p><p><em>I hated the Countess... she stripped me of my magic when she used the staff... but she was my blood... MY BLOOD,</em> he had snapped when Elsidor had told him. <em>My family is ruined! </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>And so as my family fell, so shall the Emperor’s House fall!</em></p><p></p><p>“Yet now they are alive,” he whispered to himself. His great-great-great grandson was now Emperor in Iskeldrun. Was his mother, the Countess Empress before him? Ananias did not know which part of Elsidor’s stories were lies, and which were truth. Rage filled him again...</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Valaron blinked, every part of his body screaming the same thing. Pain. Her arms, his back, his stomach, every part of him had pure pain coursing through it. He heard Raven’s voice, her threat, empty as it was, and he knew he had to stand. For his family, for her, for the Empire.</p><p></p><p><em>Come on Val! Get up!</em> he yelled at himself, as he pushed off the ground with his good arm. His back muscles let their anger be known, but tightened as he lifted himself up. Now on his knees, his bleary eyes saw Raven fall to the ground, and then the dark drow lift to the sky.</p><p></p><p><em>GET UP!</em> his mind screamed hurriedly, as he set his good arm on the ground, and carefully, painfully moved a leg. Each breath he took burned like a thousand iron daggers into his chest. <em>I cannot fall!</em> he realized, <em>My ribs are broken... a bad fall and one could end up in my lung!</em></p><p></p><p>His eyes still fastened on the image of the drow kicking in the sky, yelling at his companion. He then turned to see the red haired man snarling at his companion, as Val reached for the walls about Pelor’s Temple. Leaning into his good arm, he slowly rose, one foot, then the other. Unsteadily, weakly, he stumbled one step forward. He tried to talk, but the pain was too much, and he only wheezed as Ananias looked at him.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p><em>That is my blood! Right there!</em> Ananias looked at the copper skinned prince, clinging to the wall with his broken body. The sight of him so broken caused Ananias’ rage to course even higher.</p><p></p><p>“I came to avenge my defeat! To avenge my family! And I see that has already been done!” he growled, feeling his own magic course through his veins, towards his outstretched fingers. Each digit seemed to crackle with power, and from his fingertips five points of light formed.</p><p></p><p>They grew larger, lengthing from points into long daggers, the ice that made them shining clear in the morning light. With a roar, he launched them towards the drow. As they grew slammed into his chest, a bright light seemed to silently build from both of them, increasing in size and intensity.</p><p></p><p>As the light dimmed, the Fire Stone fell to the steps of Pelor’s Temple, before rolling down the last few steps. Like a bauble, it bounced and skittered, rolling forward until it came to a rest at the feet of a stunned Valaron...</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Emperor Valerian, post: 1703852, member: 15043"] Ananias felt warm all over as the girl spun to face him, a feeling like warm butter flowing over his body, coming from the large stone clutched in his left palm. It was about the size of a large apple, a perfect sphere that was solid ruby, polished and opaque. The once king fondly thought of only a few minutes before... when he’d first laid eyes on his lost prize, flames seemingly licking in its depths. As her words echoed in his mind, his brow furrowed. [i]He will carry the stone for me? What stone? They couldn’t be speaking of this one... only I can carry it! I am the last of the line...[/i] He looked over to the craggy old man next to him, clad in the bright armor of a paladin of Pelor. Elsidor’s disguise couldn’t hide the malacious smile that filled his lips. “Very good!” he heard the girl stammer, “Now, hand me the stone, as you promised! Your reward will be the fall of the Imperial line!” she called, making Ananias raise his own disguised eyebrows. [i]It seems Elsidor was busy before he fetched me... the drow is smarter than I assumed.[/i] Ananias’ past life had been filled with intrigue and treachery... and he refused to assume that this drow had raised him and would honorably treat to a bargain. “Lady Eyrna... poor creature,” he heard the drow rumble next to him through his disguise, “you see... I have the Fire Stone now. I have no need for you! Go ahead and kill the Crown Prince... it shall only make our job easier!” As Ananias watched, the wizened crone of Pelor shift, shrinking in height and darkening in complexion until an ebony skinned drow stood, his white eyes blazing. Elsidor’s five companions came up behind him, and they too shifted back to their natural forms, shrugging off the drow’s powerful magic. The woman’s eyes below them blazed with fury. [i]I would too,[/i] Ananias wanted to chuckle, watching her tremble as she held the dirk close to the young boy’s neck. The once king found his gaze drawn to the young man, who likely had no idea what was befalling him. [i]He has red hair... rather odd. There are no redheaded noble families in the Eastern Empire, where the Emperor comes from...[/i] the once King rumbled, before assuming some intermarriage had occurred. Seeings that his erstwhile allies had shifted back, he closed his eyes, and let his magic wash over him. The cloaks and furrows of Pelor’s servant washed away, leaving a tall, gaunt man, a mop of red hair cascading from the crown of his head. [i]Why do the drow always taunt?[/i] he thought as Elsidor continued to mock his former patron as they walked down the temple steps, ever closer to the gate. Bored, Ananias let his gaze look over the rest of the motley people gathered in the plaza. He saw several paladins of Hieroneous, marks for destruction in his first demonstration of what the stone could do. He saw several wounded black cloaks, some with crossbows, some with bows, some unarmed, some with swords. Behind the woman and her captive ‘prince’ was another girl... a few years younger, looking on in abject horror, what looked to be a whip at her side. Then his eyes caught [i]her[/i]. Off in the distance, laying on the ground, but not dead. Ananias’ eyes alone saw she wasn’t moving, but his other senses told her her heart still beat. Instantly, the once king froze up, the last image of his previous demonic life flashing across his vision. The bard charging him, screaming a deathcry, a dagger high above her head... then blackness. Dark thoughts immediately flooded his mind, plotting how to get rid of this woman. His mind grew so focused that he did not see the enraged woman holding the prince charge at Elsidor. HE did hear [i]her[/i] death scream, as her mouth suddenly began spewing blood. Her charge collapsed a few feet in front of the drow’s feet, and he watched as she gurgled, clawing at the air. [i]Ah... drowned in her own blood. How... quaint,[/i] Ananias thought. He then looked down, towards the still stunned gaggle. “May I kill off the prince with the demonstration of the Stone?” he asked Elsidor. [i]My stone...[/i] Ananias thought. Only [i]he[/i] would know how to use it properly, not the drow, nor any of these fools below. When Elsidor nodded, Ananias gave a wicked smile. Harrapias stood, his feet feeling like lead as he watched the Erelion daughter run at the drow, only to see her collapse, blood streaming from her mouth. He saw the drow lean in to hear something the tall red-head next to him said, and the redhead grin at the crown prince. He wasn’t sure what the brief comment was about, but the look in the man’s eyes told him everything he needed to know. Harrapias’ blade was out, and from somewhere within him, the old warrior found energy again. He leapt forward, a lion charging towards his prey. [i]I must get close! If I can, their spells will not avail them when steel slices their throats![/i] He heard a suddenly rush, the clank of armor, and knew his paladins were close behind. A brief, unsaid prayer to his protector echoed in his mind, as closed with the two wizards... For a brief instant, it all appeared as from a bard’s song... the paladins streaming forward, blades above their heads, their echoing call, “Valor!” thundering around the plaza. Until Ananias pulled forth the Fire Stone. The air all across the plaza seemed to grow thick, shimmering as if the stones beneath were baking in heat. The shimmering fell into globs... red sticky globs, that quickly grew and shaped into the forms of men in full armor. Thousands of them, covering the plaza, slowly rising to form an army... The paladins streamed forward as Ananias’ army formed, still coming... until Elsidor’s hand jutted out from his body as a craggy rock overlooks an impudent sea. The elderly lead paladin, along with his comrades, was suddenly lifted skyward. Shouts, cries and screams arose from the throats of some of the paladins, but the old man in the lead merely glared. Elsidor gave a vicious snarl, and with a horrific snap of crunching bones and shattered skulls, he squeezed his hand shut. What fell to the earth were not the bodies of men, merely piles of pulverized blood, bone and gore. Raven’s eyes went wide in horror at the scene of mangled ruin that now covered the entrance to the House of Pelor. The two wizards and their five companions started down the stairs, their eyes focused not on her, but on the coughing, pain filled form laying in front of her. Valaron. [i]They mean to kill him![/i] she panicked, seeing their approach. [i]I need to do something! Anything![/i] No thought crossed her mind of what would happen if she interfered, no fear for herself entered her mind. Instead, only fear of what these two wizards would do, now that one of them possessed the Fire Stone. Then her mind stopped. [i]It can only be carried by someone of Caladron blood! Yet that red head is carrying it... which means he must be...[/i] Her knees quaked again, as she saw Ananias coming closer. The stories her father had told her echoed in her mind... of a beast powerful enough to nearly kill their group of heroes, a towering monilith of ice. Somehow, seeing that creature in the form of a man was all the more frightening. The four dark drow behind the lead one started forward, past Ananias and Elsidor, towards her love. [i]What can I do?[/i] her mind raced. Her mind flashed back, towards a time six years before... and a lecture from her father. [i]”You should NOT have gone in there with that young dragon! How could you have known it was safe?” he asked her, eyes filled not only with anger but deep concern. “It was safe!” she heard her own voice reply, bubbly and young. “Valaron, Vintressa, Rose and Shawn were with! Amarine was there too, and if it wasn’t safe, we could’ve fought him off, just like you fought off a dragon, daddy!” she replied smartly, hoping she’d trapped her father. “No, my dear. It’s not the same. You had a choice whether to fight. In those stories when I fought those demons, those monsters, I had NO choice. There are times where one must be prudent, and avoid danger... and there are times where one must rush danger to overcome it. This was clearly the former, NOT the latter.” ...There are times where one must rush danger...[/i] Raven’s mind repeated. [i]Valaron needs my help! He can’t defend himself! I have to defend him![/i] Gone were the normal voices chastising her that she was a mage, not a combatant. Gone were the feelings that she wasn’t up to the task... all replaced with a simple desperate realization of, [i]I must do this![/i] As if unbidden, her hand rose, pointing at the drow closing with Valaron. There was no repitition of an incantation learned at the Academy, there was no moment of contemplation to focus her energy. The stream of magic running down her arm became a torrent, her desperation, her fear building its power. It rose, frothing higher and higher in her mind, thundering down her arm, until exploding from her fingertips. Pain shot through her arm, and a primal scream echoed over the noise of the unholy army assembling behind her. A brilliant, explosive crash flashed through the air, a blinding burst of light causing her eyes to see stars. As the noise died, the purple and green spots in her eyes cleared, and she saw five piles of dust where the drow once stood. Her arm still flared with pain from the untrained, uncontrolled magical blast, yet she found her feet walking forward, towards the other two, her nagiaka once again out, away from her body. “Oho! A fighter we have here!” the drow openly mocked her. “Her little burst of magic makes her think she is strong!” Ananias blinked in surprise at the girl’s blast of power. Part of his brain was rather impressed, that so much magic could flow from someone so young. Another part found her foolish, especially when she started advancing on Elsidor. [i]I could have used someone like her in my army that day...[/i] he reflected on a time long ago. There was fear in her eyes, but it was controlled, used for extra strength and speed, not soiling her trousers. “I am Raven Dice, daughter of Maestress Elenya Dice, chief of the Kulloden Mage’s Guild,” the girl said coldly, precisely, as she moved forward. “My powers pale in comparison to those of House Caladron, whose son and blood you are harassing!” she growled. She kept advancing, even as Elsidor laughed at her. Ananias’ mind, however, was hung on her last phrase. [i]House Caladron? It can’t be... my line is dead! Killed off by the Emperors of Iskeldrun![/i] He looked up towards Elsidor in confusion, as he let a small burst of magic he had not used in a long long time towards her. “The Imperial line will soon be a ragged house, not worthy of note!” the drow snapped back angrily, his hand already rising in power. “None care of the power of House Caladron, not the power of its Emperor, its Empress, or this jackled fool of a prince!” Elsidor’s hand began to glow with power... Raven felt nothing but pain... immediate and vicious pain, as if someone’s hand was wrapped around her heart, squeezing and squeezing it, not letting her breathe. She felt her nagaika slip from her grip, the pain growing more and more intense as the drow’s hand glowed more and more. Finally, she felt a burning in her chest, as her lungs screamed for air. Suddenly, the burning stopped, and the pain abated. She felt her heart beating again, as she fell to the ground, gasping hard for air. She turned her eyes towards the drow, only to see the drow himself hanging just inches off of the ground, as if an invisible set of hands had held him there. Ananias’ blood boiled, as he stared down Elsidor in his fury. [i]”I thought you said my House was dead!? My family ruined!?”[/i] he roared, his hand still outstretched, fingers splayed wide as Elsidor continued to float. “She lies! She lies! You would believe that girl who openly defends the son of the Emperor instead of the elf that raised you from your deadly slumber!?” Elsidor rasped in indignation. “Fool!” “She tells the truth!” Ananias snapped back. [i]I know! I felt it through the small magic I judged petitions with when I was a noble long ago![/i] “My family lives, and rules from Iskeldrun! [i]You would have me kill my own blood!?[/i]” “It did not stop your great-granddaughter!” Elsidor rasped back. “Now drop me, you fool, before you do something we both will regret!” “I shan’t regret watching you choke! Dung left by mother earth!” Ananias shouted back. [i]You are in no position to threaten me, scum![/i] “If you kill me,” Elsidor’s voice was growing thin a reedy, as the air to his lungs was being cut more and more, “you will die too! The magic that raised you is tied to me! If... I...die...you...die...” The drow kicked his feet, trying to wriggle loose, and he managed to open his airway a little more. “You agreed this for the Imperial crown?! Its still yours, if you let me go!” the drow offered. “All yours!” Ananias regarded him darkly, thoughts crossing and recrossing his mind. The images he’d constructed from the drow’s descriptions... his descendent, the Countess, and her baby burning to death in a fiery pyre... the cruel Emperor Alexander supervising the rapine and destruction of his city. [i]I hated the Countess... she stripped me of my magic when she used the staff... but she was my blood... MY BLOOD,[/i] he had snapped when Elsidor had told him. [i]My family is ruined! And so as my family fell, so shall the Emperor’s House fall![/i] “Yet now they are alive,” he whispered to himself. His great-great-great grandson was now Emperor in Iskeldrun. Was his mother, the Countess Empress before him? Ananias did not know which part of Elsidor’s stories were lies, and which were truth. Rage filled him again... Valaron blinked, every part of his body screaming the same thing. Pain. Her arms, his back, his stomach, every part of him had pure pain coursing through it. He heard Raven’s voice, her threat, empty as it was, and he knew he had to stand. For his family, for her, for the Empire. [i]Come on Val! Get up![/i] he yelled at himself, as he pushed off the ground with his good arm. His back muscles let their anger be known, but tightened as he lifted himself up. Now on his knees, his bleary eyes saw Raven fall to the ground, and then the dark drow lift to the sky. [i]GET UP![/i] his mind screamed hurriedly, as he set his good arm on the ground, and carefully, painfully moved a leg. Each breath he took burned like a thousand iron daggers into his chest. [i]I cannot fall![/i] he realized, [i]My ribs are broken... a bad fall and one could end up in my lung![/i] His eyes still fastened on the image of the drow kicking in the sky, yelling at his companion. He then turned to see the red haired man snarling at his companion, as Val reached for the walls about Pelor’s Temple. Leaning into his good arm, he slowly rose, one foot, then the other. Unsteadily, weakly, he stumbled one step forward. He tried to talk, but the pain was too much, and he only wheezed as Ananias looked at him. [i]That is my blood! Right there![/i] Ananias looked at the copper skinned prince, clinging to the wall with his broken body. The sight of him so broken caused Ananias’ rage to course even higher. “I came to avenge my defeat! To avenge my family! And I see that has already been done!” he growled, feeling his own magic course through his veins, towards his outstretched fingers. Each digit seemed to crackle with power, and from his fingertips five points of light formed. They grew larger, lengthing from points into long daggers, the ice that made them shining clear in the morning light. With a roar, he launched them towards the drow. As they grew slammed into his chest, a bright light seemed to silently build from both of them, increasing in size and intensity. As the light dimmed, the Fire Stone fell to the steps of Pelor’s Temple, before rolling down the last few steps. Like a bauble, it bounced and skittered, rolling forward until it came to a rest at the feet of a stunned Valaron... [/QUOTE]
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