22nd of Frost, 119th Year of the Age of Steel
When Talon awoke it was to a stiff neck and sore muscles. He opened his eyes, the grogginess of sleep urging him to plunge back into the dark so that he could continue to rest. But he knew that he would get no more rest. He could not stay where he was. Not for much longer. Letting out a breath, he rubbed his face to assist himself in waking up further. The Avialae leaned forward, dragging his pack toward him. He pulled it open, digging out some of the dried rations that he’d brought with him. It was not a fancy meal but it would fill his belly and give him what he needed to keep going. He tore off a piece of the dried meat with his teeth, chewing thoughtfully. If he didn’t find what he was searching for soon, he would turn back. The longer he stayed in the Warrens and the further he wandered, the more he risked being killed or worse, getting lost.
He finished eating the dried meat, accompanied it with some nuts and dried berries then downed a good portion of water from his waterskin. Once he was finished eating, he tucked his supplies back into the pack then rest his head against the solid wood of the barricade he’d built. Truthfully, it offered little protection against many of the creatures that wandered in the depths. The illusion of safety was better than no safety at all however and it had helped him get to sleep. He sat there in the quiet and in the dark, the only sound that of his own breathing and the groaning of the earth as it shifted in the deeps. The Avialae took that time to not so much clear his mind but rather to focus on what lay ahead of him. He let the stiffness in his muscles fade from the forefront of his thoughts. The stiffness would be gone with some stretches and as soon as he got up and started moving.
Talon let his uneasiness at being in the Warrens drift away. They were a dangerous place. He knew that. He was not helpless. He could fight and he was intelligent enough to know when he was in over his head. Talon had no desire to be ushered into Wraedan’s embrace, not that day. So he let his fear of facing death slip away. Little by little he sorted through his own thoughts, letting those that distracted him from his goal dissipate into nothingness in his mind’s eye. They weren’t truly gone but for the moment, he was setting them aside. He would deal with them in time. He would be in danger. He would be forced to think on his feet. He would not have anyone to depend on other than himself. These were truths that he could not change. He could control how he approached each situation however.
Opening his eyes, Talon rose to his feet. He placed his sword back on his hip. He strapped his pack back in place. Carefully he moved the barricade out of the way then, with sword drawn, he pulled open the door stepping out into the corridor once more. The air was cold, the same level of cold it had been since he’d first entered the Warrens apart from the rage spirit. Still, that brought little comfort in a place where the cold could precede a sizable threat. He waited, listening and feeling. When it was apparent that nothing was going to jump out at him he began making his way down the corridor.
Taking hold of his senses, Talon opened his awareness to the aura of his current location. It always made him smirk inside when people lacking in magic commented on how they could feel certain things in specific places. Their words were truer than they knew. People, objects and even events left traces behind. Things that were imprinted upon the aether that seeped into the air, saturating it with the memory of what had transpired there. Carefully, Talon sifted through information that he did not need. He ignored the echoes of distant fears, the memory of emotions that clung to the air. That was when he found it again. Stronger this time. The scent drifted across his senses bringing with it an almost hungry feeling. Talon followed what he was feeling. He zeroed in on the trace of aether that was tugging at him turning in its direction.
Walking down the corridor with illumite shard held aloft, Talon continued his journey toward his destination. He held on to the thought that out of this darkness there would come something that could be put to good use. At least, that was Talon’s hope. Hope was a powerful thing and he clung to it. He hoped that he was not going to be forging the weapon of a madman. He hoped that the very blade that he planned to make would be put toward protecting people. Talon did not know why his mother had asked him to forge a sword for Taelian. Perhaps he should have asked but his heart hadn’t been in it. He’d thrown himself into his work. He still was.
The truth was that it was easier to fling himself into dangers that he could fight. He could slay one of the Shinaegri shamblers that crawled across the floors and walls of the Warrens. He could battle against the physical manifestation of his own inner rage. He could even fight against the elements themselves as they rose up in their corrupted state to assail him. All of these things, Talon could fight. But he couldn’t fight his own heart. No matter how much he tried. The truth was? His heart ached. He tried to hide it. He tried to pretend that he could lose himself in tasks, in errands for his father and mother, in the duties of both his station and his profession. He couldn’t. Not completely anyways. The bond that he shared with Riven was so deep that to sever it would destroy them both. He wanted to be Riven’s friend, but he was not satisfied with his dark winged guardian’s friendship anymore. No matter how much he told himself that he was.
He had to make peace with that...didn’t he?
It was a harrowing thought but it did not cause Talon to waiver. Too many years putting on a brave face at the royal court had taught him how to keep moving despite his emotions. The Avialae came to the end of the corridor in which he was walking. There stood before him a pair of doors, one of which was hanging partially off of its hinges. Talon held up the illumite shard toward the door to inspect it. Upon its surface were drawn macabre depictions of people prostrating themselves before a diabolical altar. From what little he could make out, it was not a peaceful form of worship. He shuddered then slipped through the crack in the door into the hall that awaited him.
Inside, Talon was treated again to the sight of a place that might once have been grand. The tattered remains of great tapestries hung from a vaulted ceiling. There was the makings of a mural winding around the wall of the circular chamber. It was broken off in places that made the images it depicted hard to make out. Stepping up to the wall, Talon saw figures in dark robes standing over the masses assembled before them. Their hands were held outstretched and from them flowed waterfalls of faded red. He could only assume it was meant to be blood. Walking around the perimeter of the room, Talon took in as much of the murals as he could stand before turning away from them. Maybe it was better that this civilization had been buried deep beneath the earth. Had the Warrens simply swallowed it up? Was Kalzasi next? They were disturbing thoughts to consider.
As he turned he came to rest his sight upon the center of the room. A pedestal at the top of which rest an idol. The pedestal stood at the center of a large basin that was covered in dust and grime. From the way it shined it was made of solid gold but that was not what interested Talon. Wrapping around the pedestal were crystals. He had a feeling he knew what they were too. Stepping up to the basin, Talon knelt. He reached out, touching the edge with his fingertips at the same time that he reached out with his Semblance. Immediately his senses were saturated with the smell, the taste, and the echo of blood. Talon snatched his hand away as if the basin would about to leap up and bite it off. His gaze swung to the crystals wrapping around the basin.
Talon reached out intending to touch them when he felt the temperature in the room drop. Talon paused. His breath began to frost in the air. For a moment he braced himself, ready for an ice elemental to manifest. But then the shadows at the edges of the room dimmed and Talon felt his stomach drop to his feet. He shot up and drew his sword searching the edges of the light for what he knew was lurking in the shadows. The Avialae leveled his breathing. The air grew colder still and the darkness seemed to press in around him. Talon gripped his sword tightly, ready to strike at the first sign of movement.
“You weren’t enough.” Talon swung around facing the direction he’d heard the voice. Had it been his own? Had it been someone elses?
“You know it’s true.” The voice was right next to his ear. Talon brought his blade around in an arc. As it passed through shadows, he thought he saw a face.
“That’s not true.” His heart was beginning to beat faster in his chest. It was not true.
“Then why are you alone?” Another voice. This one more distinct. It held a foreign accent. It was not his voice. It was not Rivens. Talon felt his heart seize but he quickly shook it off.
“Enough tricks! Face me, demon!” A chuckle echoed off the walls of the chamber. The shadows shifted and from them emerged…
“Taelian?” The silver haired elf stood there, smirking at Talon. There was a triumphant gleam in his eyes. Over his shoulders was the claymore that he’d brought with him to Talon’s shop. The Avialae blinked at the Siltori.
“What are you doing here?” The elf sneered.
“Tying up a loose end.” Taelian brought down his blade pointing the tip at Talon. The Novalys heir tensed. He brought up his sword, ready to defend himself. “Did you really think I’d let a puke like you steal his heart from me?”
Talon glared. He grit his teeth.
“You don’t know his heart. Not like I do.” The elf barked a laugh.
“Is that so? Then why have you not won it? Why has he declared his love for me and not you? Face it, Talon, you are nothing more than second best. He didn’t love you then. He doesn’t love you now. Not the way you want.” With every word, Talon felt like a knife was being driven into his heart. There was truth in Taelian’s words. Cruel though they may have been, were these not the fears that clawed at the edges of Talon’s heart? The man he loved, the man he had loved for most of his adult life, had slipped away from him. Did that not put truth to Taelian’s words?
“Riven…” Taelian barked another laugh, cutting across the air with a hand. Talon felt a deep and terrible chill enter his bones.
“Is not yours! He never was! He never will be! You are not worthy of him!” Talon jerked back as if struck. Was it true? It could not be true. But wasn’t it? All of his patience, all of his kindness, his years of nurturing, teaching, and even pulling his bondmate out of the dregs of a terrible state, it had all meant nothing in the end. He’d lost him. Talon was stunned. Taelian brought his claymore down, walking toward the Avialae with all the grace of a practiced predator.
“No…” Talon whispered. Taelian stepped closer. There was a twisted grin on that handsome face.
“Nooo….” Talon’s voice was little more than a low, agonized moan. The Siltori placed a hand on Talon’s shoulder and he felt as though his body had been plunged into ice. The shadows seemed to be closing in around Talon’s vision. The light shining from his dragonshard was growing dimmer and dimmer.
“Better to die, like the worm you are, than to disgrace us all with your pitiful pining.” Taelian brought up his claymore positioning the tip just over Talon’s heart.
..I need you here with me. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, okay? You won't be able to do anything for Kalzasi when you're dead. You won't be able to do anything for me, either. Stay alive, for all of us.
The light of his dragonshard passed over Taelian’s face and for a moment, Talon saw not the handsome elf’s stern visage but a hooded entity cloaked in shadows. In that moment, Talon felt warmth surge back into his limbs. This was not Taelian.
“NO!” Talon swung his sword, breaking whatever trance he’d been under. He fed some of his aether to the dragonshard in his hand making the light surge brighter. Before him, the haunted face of a wraith loomed. It shrieked in pain reeling back from the light. Talon opened his senses to the aether. He used not his eyes but the vision of Semblance. There he saw the writhing amalgamation of icy darkness that was manifesting before him. It darted away from him but Talon did not need the light to see where it went. He followed its movements, circling around the pedestal being mindful of his footing.
The wraith surged forward. Talon raised the dragonshard high, letting its light shine brighter. The spirit shrieked and Talon felt a swipe at his arm. It connected and he felt the fingers go numb. Talon stumbled, dropping the shard watching as it skittered across the floor. The sound of ghostly wind was all the warning he received as Talon was hit with a blast of cold that sent him flying backwards and into one of the opposite walls. He cried out in pain, losing focus on his Semblance and crumpling to the floor. His sword went clattering across the stones and out of reach. Talon felt heavy. His limbs felt like they were moving through frigid water. It was getting harder not to feel numb.
“You are not worthy. You are nothing.” The voice of Taelian whispered in the shadows once more but Talon refused to listen.
“And you...you are a lie.” Talon cast out his senses. The wraith was floating toward him. He wasted no time. Reaching across the aether flux, Talon shoved his aether forward and plunged it into the fabric of the wraith. It screamed in rage. The sound pierced into Talon’s skull making him nearly lose concentration but he grit his teeth keeping tight hold of the aether in his grasp.
“You will fail! You are nothing! A worm! A pitiful worm!” Talon brought up his hands taking hold of the flow of the flux and began to pull it apart. The strength of the wraith was such that Talon was met with heavy resistance.
“I…” Another buffet of cold winds hit Talon sending him to a knee. He felt frost gather on his armor and even his wings. “I am Talon…”
“You will die here! Alone! Forgotten! Worthless!” Talon emit a shout of fury as he took firmer hold of the aether flow inside of the wraith. With all the strength he could muster he shouted at the top of his lungs.
“I am Talon! Son of Savien! Heir to House Novalys! A Prince of Kalzasi! And you have no power over me!” With a terrible wail, Talon ripped apart the wraith. Frigid winds filled the chamber as the wraith was shredded. Talon sagged, catching himself, bracing his hands upon the cold stone floor. He panted hard, sweat beaded on his brow. Breathing in through his nose and exhaling from his mouth, Talon picked himself up. He grabbed his sword. He picked up the illumite shard then went back to the crystal covered pedestal. Stepping up to it he inspected the crystals, not with just his eyes but with his Semblance.
He followed them until he found one that was suitable for his purposes. Its aura shone brighter and reeked of iron and copper. He brought up his sword, positioned it carefully then slowly worked at chipping the crystal off of the pedestal. It didn’t take long before a chunk roughly the size of a chicken’s egg was pried off. Talon held it in his hand. He brought a thumb up and pressed it lightly to the edge of his blade. He winced slightly as it bit into the flesh drawing blood. Talon pressed it to the crystal and watched.
The blood was drawn into the crystal and within moments, it swirled with a soft red light that seemed to sway as though filled with the very blood that Talon had pressed to it. This was what he had gone into the Warrens for. He had what he needed. Pocketing the crystal, Talon rose to his feet. He turned, making his way out of the chamber and back in the direction from whence he came. He was done with this journey into the Warrens. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to return to them for a long time. But he had found what he came for. More than that, he had also faced some of his inner demons. Literally and figuratively. He felt as though he could face the challenges that lay ahead of him with a clearer mind and a heart that was not weighed down so heavily with thoughts of what could have been.
Because the future was not yet written...and that gave Talon hope.
