Fable - Ask Darkest Night

[Zephyrine]

"Will you be alright, Zephyrine? You look pale and tired."

"I have been through worse." She smiled, but it wasn't to show any cheer. It was the same old story, the ones Dreadlords of old and new would know and understand. The reality of having to keep going, even if you cannot. Zephyrine had been exploited and used by the Academy for years, to push her boundaries and strengthen.

The full extent of what she had been taught prior to being introduced into the graduating class would never be spoken about. Not to anyone. She knew there would be people that would feel pity, would mourn a life for her...

Zephyrine didn't want their weakness... their concern. There was nothing against it, not really, but Zeph had no room to feel for the girl she could have been.

"I have my own ways of keeping focused and replenished. Pain still works wonders if we are after that enhancement in power." She reminded Kristen. Her palms were a map of scars, of previous times she had induced pain to bolster her reserves, and the momentary boost always felt like a rush for her.

In a low voice, words between the two young Dreadlords, Zephyrine murmured. "I will see to it that we get out of here alive. That we will not have letter sent... home." And the way she said it was convincing enough. For what home did Zephyrine have? What was left to her, she gave away to a family that needed it more than she did. She had hoped if she were to expire, a letter would not be sent to that home that was never her own. That a letter would not inform the family of Thraah of her death.

"Now, Lady of Vel Numera," Zephyrine's voice returned to normal volume, "are you ready?"

Kristen Pirian
Mortivore Urn

 

[Kristen Pirian]

With a quiet assurance Zephyrine mentioned escape, should the night come to it. Kristen feared that prayer and strength of arms might not be enough; but she feared more that her final moments would be unworthy of all the life that came before them. And so she resolved not to allow desperation to make a ruin of morality, to become as the Dreadlords whom she despised, who indeed savaged the notion of humanity even in far less dire times—and she resolved this even if it should cost her her life. But this she kept from Zephyrine, and only could she hope that Zephyrine's method of escape did not mirror Mortivore's earlier suggestion.

Are you ready?

Kristen gazed out over the plain beneath them, at those distant riders fanning out and covering the expanse and some wheeling around and riding back the way they had come.

"I must be—for the men, for my family. I intend not to deprive House Pirian of a daughter this night, if only I may draw breath to stave off such a cruel fate. And to what extent the gods allow, I wish not for any more Anirian families to suffer as such either.

She looked then to her fellow Dreadlord.

"But tell me, Zephyrine, and say true." A frown inevitably pulled at her expression. "Have you seen much victory in this war?"

Zephyrine Mortivore Urn