Diarmhid looked to the sky, simply for the reason of having nowhere better to look to. He was looking for something; but what?
It would not be answers; Diarmhid was far too experienced in the harsh dealings of life to think that answers would be painted across the stars. No; life was far more complicated than that. If there were to be answers anywhere, they would be found in, and only in, yourself.
Funny, then, that he should have that thought, because Diarmhid had always been one to swear by the truth of a sword. There was no truer hand than your own guiding its point, he had often said. This was one of the many lessons he had taught to Devrah.
Thinking about her was inevitable. He had avoided it for many months, since she had demanded that he refrain from speaking to her until he would respect her decisions, her new life.
Impossible to believe that she was wed. And for love, so she claimed. At first, Diarmhid had beeb certain that this had been a lie she had told the young half-elf to lull him into becoming her protector, provider; It was true that Devrah had always been more than self-sufficient, but perhaps, with the men of N'yarthail still hunting her, she had opted for security. When Devrah had first told him, with no hint of emotion in her carefully masked deep-green eyes, he had been suddenly unexplainably angry. How dare she lie to him? But no -- the trespass went even further than that. She was telling the truth. Something had changed about her, this woman that he had taught once, long ago, to be cold, heartless. To detach herself always, so that there would never be any room for fear. She truly had fallen in love with the strange half-elf who was gentle and fierce, authoritative and withdrawn all at the same time. A man Diarmhid at once respected, loathed, feared, and liked.
Diarmhid shook his head and tore his gaze from the stars; there would be no answers there. And yet he could not find answers in himself either, even though he knew they should be there. With a sudden calm, he knew where to look. He knew where the answers he was seeking would lie. Where they always had. He unsheathed his sword slowly and looked along its length; the moonlight caught its flat, shining brightly. he brought the gleaming thing closer to his eyes and stared at his own reflection, awaiting the answers he knew would come.
Seeking Answers
Moderator: Gamemasters
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Diarmhid Liioness
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Sun Nov 27, 2005 11:57 pm
Seeking Answers
Last edited by Diarmhid Liioness on Thu Jan 05, 2006 3:51 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Devrah Windslasher ~
- Posts: 154
- Joined: Mon Dec 05, 2005 4:53 am
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Most nights, Devrah had trouble sleeping, because her mind would not quiet. Thoughts, plans, ideas, theories, and rumors raced through her mind, but there was once thing she would never turn her mind to. The past. What is done is done, she would think firmly if ever her mind felt a need to recall it, There is nothing left but to go on.
This night, something was different. Perhaps it was the gentle kick of the child growing in her belly that drove her thoughts back. She put a hand to the swell that had been evident for two months now, though she had been a little over four months pregnant. "Revlen," she whispered very softly, though to the growing child or to his namesake, she was unsure which she called.
"You should be more careful, lass." he smiled lightly, though his eyes were serious, and Devrah could see at once, trained as she was, that this man was a man of authority; maybe not in official status, but within himself he was a strong man.. and yet... her green eyes glittered, but she knew he would be able to see nothing more than a mere flicker of the light, no matter how keen his mind and eyes were. And yet, she mused, he was a broken man. What, oh what, she had wondered with no more emotion than mild amusement, had taken this man and dashed him coldly upon the rocks until his spirit had broken? He was good at hiding it though; very good.
They say that curiosity killed the cat, and in Devrah's case, curiousity very near killed her. She had not intended to stay in Trollsbane for any long period of time; she was on the run, and this was only a stopping place, where she might gather some news of the lands abroad and a bite to eat. However, her need to figure this strange man who called himself only by 'Revlen' had driven her to stay far longer than she had intended. Over many nights, she came to him quietly while he was at his post, guarding the town. At first, they both said little. Revlen watched the sky, and Devrah watched Revlen. As time worse on, they grew used to each others' company and both began to speak with more frequency. Devrah watched Revlen night after night, sometimes speaking and sometimes not, and she was privy to many strange happenings... Revlen would sometimes go into a trance-like state when half-asleep, where he believed he was being attacked by orcs. Once, he called out a name. Devrah had never forgotten that name, nor had she ever repeated it to anyone but Revlen himself. Of all the things Devrah knew how to do, keeping secrets was certainly one of them. All the time she remained on the island, she knew her hunters were drawing near, and she had encountered one of them, once, in the mountains... but that was another memory.
Over time, she had learned a lot about Revlen; she had begun to understand what had made him so formidable on the outside and so desolate on the inside. Something else had happened, though; something Devrah would never have expected. She had developed a bond with this man. To the day, she would never know how it had happened; she had long made a living out of watching people, and never once had one struck her so deeply. Revlen began to talk to her of the past, and to her own abhorrance and shock, she began to tell him some of her past. She had told him things that had been locked in her spirit since their occurance twelve years before. She let him, one night, see tears stream from her eyes that she had no power to stop. Prior to that night by the river, Devrah had not cried once in twelve years; not since the very night that now caused her tears to flow. She told him enough to put her in immediate danger if the information ever passed to the wrong hands, though not enough that he himself would realize his information was dangerous. She had not meant to tell him anything at all, but she had. That was her first true bond to another person. In time, he became like a father to her; for she was missing hers, and he had lost a daughter. They suited each other.
Things became dark after awhile; long after Devrah had become engaged to Kamik Windslasher, long after Devrah had joined and left the guard. Revlen began to have episodes again.. but.. different ones. He would be overcome by a rage that made him at once both sub and superhuman. Devrah had felt then that he would be gone soon, somehow. It was all too soon that her fears came true, and she had recieved news that Revlen was dead.
Since that night there had been a piece of her missing; for Revlen was the first person she had ever truly *loved* in any sense of the word. He wsa the first person that had seen her tears, the first person that had seen a glimpse of what was behind her eyes and in her heart, and he had accepted it. He had accepted her, when no one else would have. And now, he was dead.
The hollowness within her dulled over time so that she was able to pick herself up and move on (she would always be able to do this, she knew, as much as it hurt. It was a necessity. It was life.), but the hole still gaped, even if she could not always feel it.
Something was different now. The trench in hear heart was growing shallower as each day passed that the child called Revlen grew within her.
"You will live on, in him," Devrah whispered to the night sky.
This night, something was different. Perhaps it was the gentle kick of the child growing in her belly that drove her thoughts back. She put a hand to the swell that had been evident for two months now, though she had been a little over four months pregnant. "Revlen," she whispered very softly, though to the growing child or to his namesake, she was unsure which she called.
"You should be more careful, lass." he smiled lightly, though his eyes were serious, and Devrah could see at once, trained as she was, that this man was a man of authority; maybe not in official status, but within himself he was a strong man.. and yet... her green eyes glittered, but she knew he would be able to see nothing more than a mere flicker of the light, no matter how keen his mind and eyes were. And yet, she mused, he was a broken man. What, oh what, she had wondered with no more emotion than mild amusement, had taken this man and dashed him coldly upon the rocks until his spirit had broken? He was good at hiding it though; very good.
They say that curiosity killed the cat, and in Devrah's case, curiousity very near killed her. She had not intended to stay in Trollsbane for any long period of time; she was on the run, and this was only a stopping place, where she might gather some news of the lands abroad and a bite to eat. However, her need to figure this strange man who called himself only by 'Revlen' had driven her to stay far longer than she had intended. Over many nights, she came to him quietly while he was at his post, guarding the town. At first, they both said little. Revlen watched the sky, and Devrah watched Revlen. As time worse on, they grew used to each others' company and both began to speak with more frequency. Devrah watched Revlen night after night, sometimes speaking and sometimes not, and she was privy to many strange happenings... Revlen would sometimes go into a trance-like state when half-asleep, where he believed he was being attacked by orcs. Once, he called out a name. Devrah had never forgotten that name, nor had she ever repeated it to anyone but Revlen himself. Of all the things Devrah knew how to do, keeping secrets was certainly one of them. All the time she remained on the island, she knew her hunters were drawing near, and she had encountered one of them, once, in the mountains... but that was another memory.
Over time, she had learned a lot about Revlen; she had begun to understand what had made him so formidable on the outside and so desolate on the inside. Something else had happened, though; something Devrah would never have expected. She had developed a bond with this man. To the day, she would never know how it had happened; she had long made a living out of watching people, and never once had one struck her so deeply. Revlen began to talk to her of the past, and to her own abhorrance and shock, she began to tell him some of her past. She had told him things that had been locked in her spirit since their occurance twelve years before. She let him, one night, see tears stream from her eyes that she had no power to stop. Prior to that night by the river, Devrah had not cried once in twelve years; not since the very night that now caused her tears to flow. She told him enough to put her in immediate danger if the information ever passed to the wrong hands, though not enough that he himself would realize his information was dangerous. She had not meant to tell him anything at all, but she had. That was her first true bond to another person. In time, he became like a father to her; for she was missing hers, and he had lost a daughter. They suited each other.
Things became dark after awhile; long after Devrah had become engaged to Kamik Windslasher, long after Devrah had joined and left the guard. Revlen began to have episodes again.. but.. different ones. He would be overcome by a rage that made him at once both sub and superhuman. Devrah had felt then that he would be gone soon, somehow. It was all too soon that her fears came true, and she had recieved news that Revlen was dead.
Since that night there had been a piece of her missing; for Revlen was the first person she had ever truly *loved* in any sense of the word. He wsa the first person that had seen her tears, the first person that had seen a glimpse of what was behind her eyes and in her heart, and he had accepted it. He had accepted her, when no one else would have. And now, he was dead.
The hollowness within her dulled over time so that she was able to pick herself up and move on (she would always be able to do this, she knew, as much as it hurt. It was a necessity. It was life.), but the hole still gaped, even if she could not always feel it.
Something was different now. The trench in hear heart was growing shallower as each day passed that the child called Revlen grew within her.
"You will live on, in him," Devrah whispered to the night sky.
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Diarmhid Liioness
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Sun Nov 27, 2005 11:57 pm
Diarmhid gazed at the blade of the sword.. saw his own eyes reflected back at him.... deep, dark green eyes the same shape and shade as Devrah's -- but so different.
Diarmhid had always been gifted in many things. The firstborn of three children, and the only boy in the family, he was strong, and tall, and smart. He was a strategist as well as a fighter, and though the boy had always been somewhat of a loner, it was by his own choice alone that made him thus, for he was quite handsome even as a child, and girls would try relentlessly to flirt with him.
His twin sisters, Devrah and Delilah, were born when Diarmhid was seven. Even at that young an age, Diarmhid was fast becoming skilled with bladed weapons, and had already developed a distaste for people in general. He preferred, as always, to keep to himself and practice with his sword. When his mother had been pregnant, he had hoped for a younger brother that he could teach in the ways of swordplay and strategy. Alas, he had been dismayed when his mother gave birth instead to not just one, but two girls. Disgusted and disappointed, he had not had much to do with either one of them for about three years.
Even in the beginning, Devrah and Delilah were vastly different. They were twins, but not identical. Devrah was the first-born, and the only one to inherit their mother's deep red hair. Delilah's hair was a very plain dark brown, without even the shine or hints of red that Diarmhid's held. Devrah, as well, had inherited her mother's deep-green eyes, the same as Diarmhid had, while Delilah's were a weak, watery blue. Delilah was also born very small, while Devrah was a normal-sized baby, unusual for twins born a month early.
As time went on, Devrah and Delilah's differences grew more marked. Devrah was adventurous; even at two and three years old she would sneak from the house and explore the area around where they lived, while Delilah preferred to sit at home and be read to, or played with, by their mother. Devrah was the first and best at everything between the two girls; she was the first to learn how to walk, how to speak, and more importantly, how to sneak away when her parents weren't looking. Still, Diarmhid took no particular interest in either twin until a day when Devrah was three, and he had found her in his room, trying to take his sword out of its sheath.
"What are you doing?" At first he had been irritated, and had moved to take the sword away, but at the last minute, he changed his mind and sat down in front of her, watching her. It took her a few minutes, but at last, her small fingers figured out how to pull it free from its sheath. She held onto the grip of it with both fists, and the tip wobbled dangerously in his direction, since she wasn't strong enough to hold the sword level.
"Easy, Dev," he said softly, taking it from her gently, looking at his oldest sister with a new light, "Some day, you will know what to do with this thing, but not yet." Devrah looked at him with deep-green eyes and smiled calmly, as if to say, "I know I will."
After that day, he spent a lot of time with Devrah. He took her with him when he went walking through forests and mountains (she seemed especially to like the fresh air and open spaces of the mountains). The more time he spent with her, the more he began to see her potential. She was smart for her age; very smart. He taught her how to read before she was four, and how to count past a thousand, and how to identify different animals by their tracks, and different trees by their leaves. When she was four, he taught her to climb trees, to swim in the stream, to scale the face of a mountain. Perhaps things like this shouldn't have been attempted by a child so small; Diarmhid knew, and Diarmhid didn't care. He knew that she could do it, if she really wanted to, and for her part, she really wanted to. She lived for the brief, hard smile that only she could coax to Diarmhid's face every so often. And so she would do whatever he asked, up to and including jumping from high trees into a rushing river, if only for her brother's approval. As for Diarmhid, the more Devrah proved she was able to do, the more he pushed her. At five he began teaching her how to use a dagger, for even he recognized she was too small for a full sword. He gave her his own little dagger, with a silver hilt, that he had acquired at about her age. He fashioned a belt with a sheath that was small enough to fit on her little waist, and day after day, he would bring her outside to field, forest, or mountain, and have her practice. Not a day went by, rain or shine, that Devrah did not practice for at least five hours, under Diarmhid's stern but careful coaching. He had her train on all different terrains so that some day she would be prepared for them all. By the time Devrah had turned six, she was already as skilled with a dagger as most boys Diarmhid's age.
After The Change (which was what Diarmhid had been referring to the life-changing event that had happened when he wsa thirteen, and the twins were six as ever since it happened), he would not see Devrah again for a very long time. The rest of the years beyonf The Change were important; but not yet. Not this far in his quest for answers.
During the three years between the day when Devrah had picked up his sword and when The Change had happened, brother and sister had become very close; There was nothing that went unsaid between them. He had begun teaching ehr other lessons, too, aside from the tree climbing and dagger-wielding.
"Dev. Enough with that dagger for today."
The little red-haired girl had nodded and sheathed the dagger. He motioned for her to come and sit by him on a rock. She did, and the two of them looked out over the mountains.
"Who is in your family, Dev?"
"Daddy, and Mommy, and Delilah. And you, of course." She paused, tilting her head sideways and looking up at him "And me."
"Mm. And you. And you and me are like partners in the family, right?"
Devrah nodded happily and hugged him. Gently, but firmly he pushed her arms away.
"That. Why did you do that, Dev?"
"Because I love you," she said simply.
"Hm. And why do you love me?"
Devrah frowned in thought and turned her innocent green eyes up to him. "I just do." she said sincerely.
Diarmhid shook his head disapprovingly, the way he did when she slipped during one of their lessons.
"There has to be a logical reason for it, Devrah Niamh Liioness." He only used her full name when he wanted her to pay particularly close attention. Devrah obliged, keeping her gaze fixated on him; her deep emerald eyes matching and meeting his perfectly. "Now, can you think of a logical reason, not just a 'feeling' that says you love me?"
Devrah frowned, in deep concentration. At last she said, "Well, you teach me things, and talk to me. And I like spending time with you."
"All of which could be said about a decent teacher. Do you love your teachers, Devrah?"
"Hm.. no."
"What other feelings do you have, besides 'love'?"
"Well... I get sad when I can't spend any time with you." she said sincerely, "And I get angry when I have a hard time climbing a tree, or have a bad day training."
"Can you explain why you have these feelings, Dev? Not because of what happened; why do you *feel* any way?"
"I.. don't know," she admitted, "I just do."
"Mm," Diarmhid said, "'I just do' is the idiot's answer, Devrah. Never answer a question that way again. Understand?"
"But what if I just do?" she asked, worriedly.
"You won't. You know why, Dev?"
"Why?"
"Because you are better than that; you are smarter than that. You are strong, and strong and smart people don't 'just do' anything. They always have a sound reason. Do you understand that, Devrah?"
Devrah nodded, although he could tell she did not.
"From now on, whenever you 'feel' anything, I want you to ignore whatever the 'feeling' is. Instead, I want you to think what you can do in the situation, using your mind. If you are sad, fix the problem. If you are discouraged, try harder. If you are happy, use the spare energy to gain some practice with your dagger."
"What should I do about love?"
"If you think you 'love' me, then you should train harder, to become as strong as I know you can. Nothing will please me more."
Devrah regarded him a moment with a childishly innocent look on her face. "Diarmhid?" she ventured at last.
"Yes, Dev?"
"Don't you love me?" her voice was small.
Diarmhid shook his head, the way he would at a child that was being very silly. "There is no such thing, Dev. Feelings are an illusion. Feelings are the way that the ignorant, the stupid, avoid doing anything about their life. They stop doing and simply feel. I don't love you, Dev, because love would be useless. It wouldn't get either one of us anywhere. Instead, I train you. I dedicate every single day to making sure that you become the best that you are capable of. Doesn't that sound a lot better than love to you?"
Devrah half-nodded, and half-shook her head, uncertainly. "I.. I guess so."
"Good. Now how do you feel about me, Dev?"
"I l--", she began and he shook his head at her, interrupting. "I want to train really hard to make you hap--to make sure I become as strong as you say."
"Very good, Dev," he said, meeting again those wide, innocent green eyes. "There is one more thing for today, though."
She sat still, waiting for him to go on.
"I can read every thought you have just by looking into your eyes. Now, I am your brother and so i am not going to hurt you; but what if I was the enemy, and I knew everything you were thinking? Wouldn't I be able to anticipate every move you make, and thus defeat you?"
Devrah nodded diligently.
"We are going to learn how to hide your thoughts, so no one can read a thing in your eyes. And after that, I will teach you how to read other people."
Devrah nodded again, eager to please her brother, and stretched her arms out again for a hug.
"No," he said, pushing her away a little more firmly this time, "Hugs, and kisses, and things like that go hand in hand with feelings; you do them because you think you feel 'love'. No more feelings, remember?"
Devrah nodded, somewhat disheartened.
"I tell you what," he said, "Instead of that hug, why don't you come and show me what you learned with that dagger today?"
Diarmhid had always been gifted in many things. The firstborn of three children, and the only boy in the family, he was strong, and tall, and smart. He was a strategist as well as a fighter, and though the boy had always been somewhat of a loner, it was by his own choice alone that made him thus, for he was quite handsome even as a child, and girls would try relentlessly to flirt with him.
His twin sisters, Devrah and Delilah, were born when Diarmhid was seven. Even at that young an age, Diarmhid was fast becoming skilled with bladed weapons, and had already developed a distaste for people in general. He preferred, as always, to keep to himself and practice with his sword. When his mother had been pregnant, he had hoped for a younger brother that he could teach in the ways of swordplay and strategy. Alas, he had been dismayed when his mother gave birth instead to not just one, but two girls. Disgusted and disappointed, he had not had much to do with either one of them for about three years.
Even in the beginning, Devrah and Delilah were vastly different. They were twins, but not identical. Devrah was the first-born, and the only one to inherit their mother's deep red hair. Delilah's hair was a very plain dark brown, without even the shine or hints of red that Diarmhid's held. Devrah, as well, had inherited her mother's deep-green eyes, the same as Diarmhid had, while Delilah's were a weak, watery blue. Delilah was also born very small, while Devrah was a normal-sized baby, unusual for twins born a month early.
As time went on, Devrah and Delilah's differences grew more marked. Devrah was adventurous; even at two and three years old she would sneak from the house and explore the area around where they lived, while Delilah preferred to sit at home and be read to, or played with, by their mother. Devrah was the first and best at everything between the two girls; she was the first to learn how to walk, how to speak, and more importantly, how to sneak away when her parents weren't looking. Still, Diarmhid took no particular interest in either twin until a day when Devrah was three, and he had found her in his room, trying to take his sword out of its sheath.
"What are you doing?" At first he had been irritated, and had moved to take the sword away, but at the last minute, he changed his mind and sat down in front of her, watching her. It took her a few minutes, but at last, her small fingers figured out how to pull it free from its sheath. She held onto the grip of it with both fists, and the tip wobbled dangerously in his direction, since she wasn't strong enough to hold the sword level.
"Easy, Dev," he said softly, taking it from her gently, looking at his oldest sister with a new light, "Some day, you will know what to do with this thing, but not yet." Devrah looked at him with deep-green eyes and smiled calmly, as if to say, "I know I will."
After that day, he spent a lot of time with Devrah. He took her with him when he went walking through forests and mountains (she seemed especially to like the fresh air and open spaces of the mountains). The more time he spent with her, the more he began to see her potential. She was smart for her age; very smart. He taught her how to read before she was four, and how to count past a thousand, and how to identify different animals by their tracks, and different trees by their leaves. When she was four, he taught her to climb trees, to swim in the stream, to scale the face of a mountain. Perhaps things like this shouldn't have been attempted by a child so small; Diarmhid knew, and Diarmhid didn't care. He knew that she could do it, if she really wanted to, and for her part, she really wanted to. She lived for the brief, hard smile that only she could coax to Diarmhid's face every so often. And so she would do whatever he asked, up to and including jumping from high trees into a rushing river, if only for her brother's approval. As for Diarmhid, the more Devrah proved she was able to do, the more he pushed her. At five he began teaching her how to use a dagger, for even he recognized she was too small for a full sword. He gave her his own little dagger, with a silver hilt, that he had acquired at about her age. He fashioned a belt with a sheath that was small enough to fit on her little waist, and day after day, he would bring her outside to field, forest, or mountain, and have her practice. Not a day went by, rain or shine, that Devrah did not practice for at least five hours, under Diarmhid's stern but careful coaching. He had her train on all different terrains so that some day she would be prepared for them all. By the time Devrah had turned six, she was already as skilled with a dagger as most boys Diarmhid's age.
After The Change (which was what Diarmhid had been referring to the life-changing event that had happened when he wsa thirteen, and the twins were six as ever since it happened), he would not see Devrah again for a very long time. The rest of the years beyonf The Change were important; but not yet. Not this far in his quest for answers.
During the three years between the day when Devrah had picked up his sword and when The Change had happened, brother and sister had become very close; There was nothing that went unsaid between them. He had begun teaching ehr other lessons, too, aside from the tree climbing and dagger-wielding.
"Dev. Enough with that dagger for today."
The little red-haired girl had nodded and sheathed the dagger. He motioned for her to come and sit by him on a rock. She did, and the two of them looked out over the mountains.
"Who is in your family, Dev?"
"Daddy, and Mommy, and Delilah. And you, of course." She paused, tilting her head sideways and looking up at him "And me."
"Mm. And you. And you and me are like partners in the family, right?"
Devrah nodded happily and hugged him. Gently, but firmly he pushed her arms away.
"That. Why did you do that, Dev?"
"Because I love you," she said simply.
"Hm. And why do you love me?"
Devrah frowned in thought and turned her innocent green eyes up to him. "I just do." she said sincerely.
Diarmhid shook his head disapprovingly, the way he did when she slipped during one of their lessons.
"There has to be a logical reason for it, Devrah Niamh Liioness." He only used her full name when he wanted her to pay particularly close attention. Devrah obliged, keeping her gaze fixated on him; her deep emerald eyes matching and meeting his perfectly. "Now, can you think of a logical reason, not just a 'feeling' that says you love me?"
Devrah frowned, in deep concentration. At last she said, "Well, you teach me things, and talk to me. And I like spending time with you."
"All of which could be said about a decent teacher. Do you love your teachers, Devrah?"
"Hm.. no."
"What other feelings do you have, besides 'love'?"
"Well... I get sad when I can't spend any time with you." she said sincerely, "And I get angry when I have a hard time climbing a tree, or have a bad day training."
"Can you explain why you have these feelings, Dev? Not because of what happened; why do you *feel* any way?"
"I.. don't know," she admitted, "I just do."
"Mm," Diarmhid said, "'I just do' is the idiot's answer, Devrah. Never answer a question that way again. Understand?"
"But what if I just do?" she asked, worriedly.
"You won't. You know why, Dev?"
"Why?"
"Because you are better than that; you are smarter than that. You are strong, and strong and smart people don't 'just do' anything. They always have a sound reason. Do you understand that, Devrah?"
Devrah nodded, although he could tell she did not.
"From now on, whenever you 'feel' anything, I want you to ignore whatever the 'feeling' is. Instead, I want you to think what you can do in the situation, using your mind. If you are sad, fix the problem. If you are discouraged, try harder. If you are happy, use the spare energy to gain some practice with your dagger."
"What should I do about love?"
"If you think you 'love' me, then you should train harder, to become as strong as I know you can. Nothing will please me more."
Devrah regarded him a moment with a childishly innocent look on her face. "Diarmhid?" she ventured at last.
"Yes, Dev?"
"Don't you love me?" her voice was small.
Diarmhid shook his head, the way he would at a child that was being very silly. "There is no such thing, Dev. Feelings are an illusion. Feelings are the way that the ignorant, the stupid, avoid doing anything about their life. They stop doing and simply feel. I don't love you, Dev, because love would be useless. It wouldn't get either one of us anywhere. Instead, I train you. I dedicate every single day to making sure that you become the best that you are capable of. Doesn't that sound a lot better than love to you?"
Devrah half-nodded, and half-shook her head, uncertainly. "I.. I guess so."
"Good. Now how do you feel about me, Dev?"
"I l--", she began and he shook his head at her, interrupting. "I want to train really hard to make you hap--to make sure I become as strong as you say."
"Very good, Dev," he said, meeting again those wide, innocent green eyes. "There is one more thing for today, though."
She sat still, waiting for him to go on.
"I can read every thought you have just by looking into your eyes. Now, I am your brother and so i am not going to hurt you; but what if I was the enemy, and I knew everything you were thinking? Wouldn't I be able to anticipate every move you make, and thus defeat you?"
Devrah nodded diligently.
"We are going to learn how to hide your thoughts, so no one can read a thing in your eyes. And after that, I will teach you how to read other people."
Devrah nodded again, eager to please her brother, and stretched her arms out again for a hug.
"No," he said, pushing her away a little more firmly this time, "Hugs, and kisses, and things like that go hand in hand with feelings; you do them because you think you feel 'love'. No more feelings, remember?"
Devrah nodded, somewhat disheartened.
"I tell you what," he said, "Instead of that hug, why don't you come and show me what you learned with that dagger today?"
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Devrah Windslasher ~
- Posts: 154
- Joined: Mon Dec 05, 2005 4:53 am
- Contact:
Devrah wanted more than anything to leave the past dead, to forget all of it and never revisit any of it again. So of course, it was fitting that on this night, while the baby in her belly wouldn't stop kicking, she wondered what she would tell him when he asked why he had no aunts, uncles or grandparents on her side.
Would she tell him the truth? Could she, truly, tell him anything else?
Strangely, it was not her brother Diarmhid, or her parents Cormack and Niamh that invaded her mind next; it was her sister, her twin, Delilah.
Devrah had never been close to Delilah. As a very young child, she had been fiercely independent, and after that, she had spent all of her waking hours with Diarmhid, always training, always not good enough, and trying to be better.
Delilah had been, for the short time Devrah had known her before... She repressed a shudder. No, she would not think of that. In all the time Devrah and Delilah had been children together, Delilah had never been much more than a background figure in Devrah's life. They shared a bedroom, but they rarely conversed as sisters were expected to do. They had had few lengthy conversations, but for some reason one in particular came to her mind tonight.
"D... Devrah?" Delilah was always hesitant when she spoke; it was just her way. Diarmhid had said it was because she wasn't as smart or strong as Devrah and Diarmhid were.
"Yes?"
"What.. what did you and Diarmhid do today? Did you play?"
"No. We trained."
"Trained?"
"Mm. With daggers."
"Ooh. Daggers are scary. I'm not allowed to touch."
"I know."
"Devrah?"
"Yes?"
"Uhm.. tomorrow, do you want to play with me?"
"I can't."
"Oh.. Why not?" her voice sounded disappointed, forlorn, in the darkness.
"I don't play," she replied calmly, "Besides, I have to train with Diarmhid again tomorrow. He is taking me to the desert, to practice fighting on the sand."
"Oh. Can... can I come?"
"You will have to ask Diarmhid," Devrah replied, knowing that Diarmhid would say no.
"Oh... Devrah?"
"Yes?"
"You... you looked scary today, when you came back from your training."
"What do you mean?"
"Your eyes were really blank. I couldn't see anything in them. I thought you were sleepwalking or something."
"Oh." Inside, Devrah smiled to herself. Diarmhid would be proud of her.
Would she tell him the truth? Could she, truly, tell him anything else?
Strangely, it was not her brother Diarmhid, or her parents Cormack and Niamh that invaded her mind next; it was her sister, her twin, Delilah.
Devrah had never been close to Delilah. As a very young child, she had been fiercely independent, and after that, she had spent all of her waking hours with Diarmhid, always training, always not good enough, and trying to be better.
Delilah had been, for the short time Devrah had known her before... She repressed a shudder. No, she would not think of that. In all the time Devrah and Delilah had been children together, Delilah had never been much more than a background figure in Devrah's life. They shared a bedroom, but they rarely conversed as sisters were expected to do. They had had few lengthy conversations, but for some reason one in particular came to her mind tonight.
"D... Devrah?" Delilah was always hesitant when she spoke; it was just her way. Diarmhid had said it was because she wasn't as smart or strong as Devrah and Diarmhid were.
"Yes?"
"What.. what did you and Diarmhid do today? Did you play?"
"No. We trained."
"Trained?"
"Mm. With daggers."
"Ooh. Daggers are scary. I'm not allowed to touch."
"I know."
"Devrah?"
"Yes?"
"Uhm.. tomorrow, do you want to play with me?"
"I can't."
"Oh.. Why not?" her voice sounded disappointed, forlorn, in the darkness.
"I don't play," she replied calmly, "Besides, I have to train with Diarmhid again tomorrow. He is taking me to the desert, to practice fighting on the sand."
"Oh. Can... can I come?"
"You will have to ask Diarmhid," Devrah replied, knowing that Diarmhid would say no.
"Oh... Devrah?"
"Yes?"
"You... you looked scary today, when you came back from your training."
"What do you mean?"
"Your eyes were really blank. I couldn't see anything in them. I thought you were sleepwalking or something."
"Oh." Inside, Devrah smiled to herself. Diarmhid would be proud of her.
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Diarmhid Liioness
- Posts: 19
- Joined: Sun Nov 27, 2005 11:57 pm
Diarmhid gazed at the cold metal of the sword throughout much of the night, and for many nights again after. He was breaking through to clarity; he knew he was. There was a key to all of the thoughts that raced in his mind.. now if only he could figure out what it was.
"Too slow," he commented grimly, as he pinned the small girl to the ground with a force that was enough to keep her pinned but not enough to hurt her, "If I was your enemy, I could take my sword," and in demonstration he held the point very close to her chin, "And kill you."
The little girl with the dark red ponytail made wide green eyes at him, but her eyes stayed impressively impassive, especially compared to how they had only weeks ago shown him into her mind easily.\\He remained in his position long enough to get his message across, and then stood up straight, letting his sword drop to his side. The little girl remained on the ground several seconds, and he stepped closer again.
"Dev? You allri--" Quick as a flash, the litle girl had jumped up and crouched in front of him, her dagger pointed now right at his belly.
Diarmhid chuckled easily. "Good, good. Perhaps you are not hopeless after all. Now, come, stand up. I have more to show you for today."
The girl shook her head stubbornly, though her eyes remained trained just beyond the dagger's tip.
"Tell me why you refuse to do as I say," his tone was calm, even.
"Mmh, well if you're the enemy I should beat you up, I shouldna let you go" she kept a straight face, but there was a mischeivous look about her.
"Devrah."
"Bad guy. Not letting the bad guy go, 'cause he might creep up and kill me." Was she mocking him? She had never done that before.
"Devrah Niamh."
Suddenly, the girl dropped her dagger, but she was not looking at him. She was looking between his legs, behind him, in the direction where their village could be seen over the hill's crest.
"Mmh, Diarmhid, orcs don't live in our village, no?"
"No..."
"Hmm, and they aren't friendly visitors, neither?"
"No.. Devrah, what--?"
Before he could finish his sentence Devrah had risen, holding he dagger firm, and brushed past him.
He turned wuickly, and his eyes met what she was viewing. A horde of orcs, pillaging several of the homes at the outskirts of the village, near the forest. He reached out, followed her the few steps she had gone, gripped her shoulder firmly.
"We have to hurry, before they get to the other end of the village." Their house was, fortunately, at the farthest part of town from where the orcs now were. "Your legs aren't fast enough. Climb up," he commanded, leaning down so she could scramble up onto his back, which she did. She held her dagger with one hand, and used the other arm to grip his shoulders and stay on his back.
"Save Momma and Daddy and Delilah, now," she said disjointedly in his ear, and he wasn't sure if she was giving the order, asking the question, or volunteering to help; either way, he simply nodded and ran as swift as he could, her weight slowing him only slightly.
"Too slow," he commented grimly, as he pinned the small girl to the ground with a force that was enough to keep her pinned but not enough to hurt her, "If I was your enemy, I could take my sword," and in demonstration he held the point very close to her chin, "And kill you."
The little girl with the dark red ponytail made wide green eyes at him, but her eyes stayed impressively impassive, especially compared to how they had only weeks ago shown him into her mind easily.\\He remained in his position long enough to get his message across, and then stood up straight, letting his sword drop to his side. The little girl remained on the ground several seconds, and he stepped closer again.
"Dev? You allri--" Quick as a flash, the litle girl had jumped up and crouched in front of him, her dagger pointed now right at his belly.
Diarmhid chuckled easily. "Good, good. Perhaps you are not hopeless after all. Now, come, stand up. I have more to show you for today."
The girl shook her head stubbornly, though her eyes remained trained just beyond the dagger's tip.
"Tell me why you refuse to do as I say," his tone was calm, even.
"Mmh, well if you're the enemy I should beat you up, I shouldna let you go" she kept a straight face, but there was a mischeivous look about her.
"Devrah."
"Bad guy. Not letting the bad guy go, 'cause he might creep up and kill me." Was she mocking him? She had never done that before.
"Devrah Niamh."
Suddenly, the girl dropped her dagger, but she was not looking at him. She was looking between his legs, behind him, in the direction where their village could be seen over the hill's crest.
"Mmh, Diarmhid, orcs don't live in our village, no?"
"No..."
"Hmm, and they aren't friendly visitors, neither?"
"No.. Devrah, what--?"
Before he could finish his sentence Devrah had risen, holding he dagger firm, and brushed past him.
He turned wuickly, and his eyes met what she was viewing. A horde of orcs, pillaging several of the homes at the outskirts of the village, near the forest. He reached out, followed her the few steps she had gone, gripped her shoulder firmly.
"We have to hurry, before they get to the other end of the village." Their house was, fortunately, at the farthest part of town from where the orcs now were. "Your legs aren't fast enough. Climb up," he commanded, leaning down so she could scramble up onto his back, which she did. She held her dagger with one hand, and used the other arm to grip his shoulders and stay on his back.
"Save Momma and Daddy and Delilah, now," she said disjointedly in his ear, and he wasn't sure if she was giving the order, asking the question, or volunteering to help; either way, he simply nodded and ran as swift as he could, her weight slowing him only slightly.