Private Tales The Legend's Heir

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
He nodded his head. "You are."

Solgrin did his best to keep the smile off of his face. She was getting used to it, the place she had taken, the restrictions. A few days ago she would not have asked such a question, she would simply have tested the limits without ever thinking to prod him.

Excellent.

That little acquiescence was good. It was a step, and more importantly It made him withdraw from what he would have done else-wise. Best to leave her in the bubble rather than break it.

"Though don't hurt yourself." Solgrin said as he stood up. "Ask Violet or one of the others to help you around for a while."

At least until she was healed. "Or if you want to learn something, find me."
 
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Sera thought of all those stairs and grimaced. Yes it would probably be wise to get help at least getting up and down those for now, so she nodded her assent to the order. She wriggled her toes again just to make sure she had them still then folded her arms over her chest. She might have been settling into one cage but she hadn't closed the collar around her neck herself quite yet.

"I want to learn now, the truths you promised," they were in the mountains now. There could only be so many laters.
 
Solgrin looked down at her for a few seconds, as if considering what to say. He had promised her, but a promise between a master and slave meant very little.

Yet she did not know the leash upon her yet, and so perhaps it was best to tell the truth. A version of it at least. One twisted enough so that the collar would tighten just a little bit more. One that she would believe. "There were four of us."

He began.

"Four councilors to the King. The General, The Advisor, The Mage, and the Vizier." Solgrin squatted down so that he was at eye level. "Each one had their desires. Each one had their needs. One found a path to those needs."

Solgrin's hand reached out and gently rested on her knee. "The others learned of it, and then the King did as well."

The story was a long one, and not one he would tell completely.

"There was a decade of war, killing, vengeance." Solgrin continued on. "It raged on and on. One strike after another, one attempt coming after the next. Over and over."

His thumb stroked across her skin. "Men died. Cities burned. A cycle that continued again and again."

This time he stopped fully, closing his eyes as if focusing on something.

"Four Councilors. Four men constantly at war. Searching, hunting, killing." His fingers stopped on her flesh. "What does at least one of those men want? What do I want? I want it to stop. I want to be free. I want to break my cage. I want to live my life."

Solgrin looked at her. "I took you. I will use you."

Small. Twisted. Truths.

"Because I will be free." He told her, his hands suddenly floating over her body. "Because I will walk this earth doing as I please."
 
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Sera slowly sat down on the window seat as he began to talk and he crouched in front of her to keep the eye contact. She knew it wasn't the whole story, it was far too neat for the real history and there was no doubt other sides to it. But he hadn't painted himself as a hero, he hadn't tried to convince her he was honourable and had great notions like Nasaar had. Was it the truth? Was it a truth she could content herself with? Her eyes closed and a small tremor ran down her spin as his hands ghosted over the curves of her body. His words were an echo of their second night together when she had been bound and gagged. He had made it clear then too he believed himself owed something far greater than the hand life had dealt him.

She opened her eyes and captured his amber gaze.

"So... you are going to use my powers to protect yourself? Not to... not to hurt innocent people?" Her voice was quiet but it didn't need to be loud given the mere inches between them. The smell of fur and winters snap clung to his clothes still and brought the outside in.

"And... these other men... the king and two of his councillors... they are going to try and find me too? Do they have pieces of the gem?" There was a tinge of fear in her tone. Nasaar's necromancy had been an abomination for the young girl that had outweighed the potential of escape. Her eyes flickered between his like a nervous rabbit, seeking comfort, assurance she was safe from that horror.
 
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"I will use it to stop the cycle I am in." Solgrin said with a nod of his head, though it was not a confirmation of her question.

Not really.

Before she could ask another question though, before she could press the issue, Solgrin replied to her other questions. "The King is dead."

Solgrin himself had seen to that. A blade through the heart, a curse set upon his soul. Nasaar and he had planned for weeks on how they would do it, how they would ensure that the old man could not return even if he'd tried.

The King had been a monster, more so than even he. All the man had ever cared about was himself, the power he could wield, the nations he could conquer. Solgrin knew that he had a bad man, knew that he was a blight on this earth.

But he knew what was worse than himself.

"The other two will come, eventually." More truth. More honesty. "You're safe here, but they want you."

Solgrin shook his head. "I do not know if they have the pieces. I haven't seen them in some years."

He had always assumed they were searching in the same way that he had, but he knew they were alive.
 
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Perhaps it was just her mind attempting to protect itself or perhaps she was just too naive to see the half truth he gave her. She relaxed into his hold either way when, in her mind, he agreed not to hurt the innocent with her magic. Sera was young and sensitive. What had happened that morning with Luka who wasn't Luka would plague her into the night and that had been in self defence with her friend dead already. Killing the innocent would simply break the poor girl.

"At least if they have the pieces I'll be able to sense them coming," her fingers tentatively stroked over the hand that rested on her leg. Seeking human touch and reassurance but also the gem that pulsed in that palm. She could feel the magic opening inside of her and filling her with wondrous light. Calm, relaxed and the happiest she had been in a while she didn't notice it until a butterfly landed on their hands, another on her nose and one on Sol's shoulder. It was only a small pang of tiredness that made her realise it had been her who had summoned them.

"I'm sorry!" She snatched her hand back and went pale. The last time she had used magic without permission he had beaten her.
 
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Of course, she would only be able to sense them if they did have the pieces. There was no guarantee of that. It had taken him nearly five years to find the shard he had himself, and Nasaar had held his for nigh on a decade before he had ever learned what it was.

His hand closed, cutting off her contact with the gem. "It's fine."

He reassured her. Had she lashed out he might have grasped her by the throat, pinned her down and shown her what obedience he expected. An illusion however did not warrant such a response, not now anyway.

"but." Solgrin added. "I think it best we don't touch this while you're still injured."

The Bandit Chief told her, his fingers stroking over her thigh for a brief moment before he cut off their touch. "It'll exhaust you otherwise."
 
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The butterflies faded into shimmering gold dust that floated to the ground then disappearing entirely.

Sera didn't answer his suggestion as she watched something she had created without a conscious thought, disintegrate. She was trying to remember how she had done it. There had only been a calm and happy feeling in her mind and something warm and soothing. She must have mistaken that flow of magic as just a content feeling for the first time in weeks.

"I... don't know how I did it," she said slowly and looked down at her hands as if she didn't recognise them. Slowly she turned them this way and that as though she might see something new there that was a physical sign of her gifts. "And it's hard not to touch it," Sera sighed and looked up to meet his eyes. "It just calls, constantly, like beautiful music..." her face screwed up and her hands fisted in frustration for a single moment before she released it all in a rush of air.

Suddenly she did look very tired.
 
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Solgrin listened to her explanation, nodding his head.

He knew how the magic worked, at least in a way. She herself did not really control it, at least not in the same way most other sorcerers would. Impulses, slight ticks, that was how her abilities manifested themselves.

The real control came through him, or rather the person who held the gems. "It is not within your control."

His hand settled on her upper thigh.

There was a small pulse, and despite her tiredness Solgrin raised his other hand. One finger extended, and just above it a light appeared. The glow was soft, pale, shifting slowly in color until Solgrin once against closed his fist and it disappeared.

"It's in mine." He stated simply, his hand lingering. "The magic comes from the gem, but you are the only way it can release it's power. If anyone tried to use it without you, they would be burnt to cinders."

She was a conduit, plain and simple.
 
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As the light appeared Sera felt the familiar drain of energy. It was like being slowly lowered into an icy lake which sapped the warmth from her body until she was so tired she just wanted to sleep. It didn't go that far this time but she still slumped against the window. She had suspected how the gem worked but Sol confirmed it with the demonstration and his words.

She drew her legs up to her chest and away from his hand. Even her sweet mind couldn't hide from what it was he was saying.

"I'm nothing but a tool to you, am I?" Sera whispered. He might have shown her some kindness but it was just to make her more easy to manipulate, to control. Dawning realisation shone from previously clouded eyes.

"Is this going to be my life now? Earning larger gilded cages but cages all the same?"
 
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He seemed to consider the question for a moment.

Truth could often be more dangerous than a lie, yet the same could be said for the opposite. One had to judge which was which. How you could carefully balance and walk along the path one most desired. Fingers are back for a moment, and then he slowly shook his head.

He stood, hand reaching out to grasp her chin and force her to look at him.

"It will be done one day." She was a tool to him, he would not deny that.

Yet a sword was a tool, a horse was a tool, that did not mean they could not be well cared for. That did not mean they were not eventually set aside or given rest. Solgrin knew full well what his plans were, what he wanted and needed to do with Serafina.

After that? He didn't particularly care what happened to her.

It was a cruel thought, and one he would not say out loud, but it was nonetheless true. "When it is, you are free to go where you please."

He told her.

"No cages." Solgrin said. "Gilded or otherwise."

But until then, you're mine. He thought to himself coldly.
 
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His touch was on the edge of bruising as he forced her to look up at him. A symphony of emotions warred their way across her open face as she glared at him. There was defiance, anger, pain at her situation and an overwhelming sea of helplessness that one could almost drown in when they stared into those eyes of perfectly cut sapphires. The urge to fight was there beneath her skin just screaming to break free but then he gave her the one thing all prisoners needed.

A light.

This wasn't some continuous task for the rest of her days. Once the others had been eliminated and he could walk in the sun a free man with everything he thought he was owed she would be worthless, and worthless was good when it came to men like Sol. Worthlessness was freedom. She almost hoped these men would come soon so it could be done.

"And the gem?" She teetered on that edge of giving in a little more, resigning herself to her collar for the time being. "It will be destroyed?" For as long as that existed she and any family she had would be in danger because of the blood in their veins.
 
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He held her firmly, his finger caressing over her cheek. "It will."

That too would no longer be needed.

Solgrin was not a man out for power. He did not want a Kingdom. He did not want an army. Not any more. There had been chances for both, opportunity to claim those things and take them for himself. Now they were in the past, and that was where he intended in keeping them.

Only one thing mattered now, and he would have it. Serafina was a stepping stone for it, something to use along the way. She was valuable, without her he would not achieve his desire, yet she was still just a means to an end.

It was a cruel truth that displayed just what kind of man he was.
 
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His touch burned and yet that caress...

She swallowed slowly and held tight to that edge of defiance that still burned in her heart. It felt like for the first time they were talking as... equals was the wrong word but he didn't bull her over anymore. She refused to give in now in this battle of wills. If she did he would walk over her in every opportunity he had and he had to know that there would be limits, lines she would not cross no matter how much he applied the pressure.

"You still haven't told me exactly what it is you plan to do to get what you want," her eyes searched his, scrutinised every flicker of muscle. "Kill these men and their followers? Win yourself land?" She stood up suddenly, refusing to let him push her into a corner any further. "What does it take to make a man like you feel free?"
 
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For a time Solgrin watched the girl sleep.

He played things over in his mind, trying to assess where he was going and what they were doing. By the end things would change, he knew that. The path that he had set out on was not an easy one, and more would likely die before they reached the end.

Solgrin was prepared for that, he knew it would happen, but he wondered how Serafina would respond to it all.

In the end it did not really matter of course. Her desires would be cast aside in a second if they clashed with what he desired. They both knew it, though perhaps she still thought that she held some sort of sway. Lips thinned for a moment, and then he stood. There was much to be done still tonight.

It would be a few days later, after Serafina slept for what seemed like a day and a half, that life in the fortress truly settled down.

There was snow everywhere now of course, swamped by the blizzard and practically burying the fortress in snow. The Bandits seemed far more calm here, far more at ease. There was more laughter, more smiles, and most seemed to take things in a far more relaxed manner.

It was...almost nice.

A small community, rather than a painful trek.
 
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A fire roared in the hearth of her room, fighting back the chills that wound their way through the thin glass of the windows in her room. Serafina pressed her forehead up against the pane and watched a group of Bandits set off on what looked like a hunting trip. She had been right to think when the storm had passed her view would be breath taking. They were surrounded by the jagged peaks of the mountains which were covered in snow. Despite the stretches of endless white life bloomed up here in the harsh elements. She had spotted eagles, rabbits, deer, even a snow leopard that had come to get a better smell of the wargs before disappearing back into the rocky safety of the caves.

Sera watched quietly from her window seat as a small group of the Bandits set off on a hunt.

Despite the energy being far nicer the few times she had gone downstairs, she preferred her own company. She had even shunned Violet's the few times her friend had visited with food. Most, including Violet, had thought it was to do with her wounds. This was the first time after all they had really rested and rest was what a body needed to heal. They were content to let her be, even if they did cast worried glances to the untouched food that returned. It was Maria alone who had puzzled it out with her medics eye, given her a broth that had made her sick, and told her these things took time. Sera didn't think any time in the world would make her feel the same again.

She looked back down at the half finished sketch on her lap with a sigh that fogged up the glass she was leaning against. She had been trying to finish it for the last two days but she didn't have the energy in her to do it. In a unique glimmer of something other than placid sorrow, Sera flung the parchment and pencils at the wall with a small shout of anger.
 
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Anger was a natural thing.

It was, he would have argued to many, the reason that he had survived for so long. It had carried him across battlefields, through sewers, and even out of the grave. The curse that had now set upon his flesh was due to anger, though not directly it's source.

Some might have said that he had doomed himself for all his rage, but his argument always would have been a simple counter; he was still alive.

Still alive to finish his business. Still alive to reap what had been sowed. That alone was worth the price to him, and he wondered if in the end Serafina would understand that. The shout of anger echoed down the hall, as Solgrin opened the door.

His face was of a neutral expression as he stepped inside.

He did not care about her anger, nor any other feeling that she might have had to offer. To him it was all just a byproduct. Important, perhaps, but only so that he could get what he wanted. "Maria tells me your leg is almost healed."

The wound had come along surprisingly quickly.
 
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"Leave me alone."

Serafina could barely look at the man who had caused her this pain. Her eyes lingered for a brief moment and then she turned her whole body away from him as best she could on the window seat. Instead she focused on the little figures below, stark against the blanket of white snow. They were growing fainter into the distance and would soon pass into the trees beyond. When they had been getting ready she had noticed it was the Norden who had offered to take her on a hunt that led them. He looked far more comfortable in the winter climates than anyone else here.

She would think of anything apart from the man in her room.

A part of her considered her anger unjust. Solgrin had not taken her against her will. Like he had predicted she had asked for it, welcomed him. She was more angry with herself for allowing it to come to pass with a man who saw her as little more than an useful tool. In doing so she had also, somehow, parted her magic onto him making her jailer even stronger. It was sick. She absently twisted the ring on her thumb as she clutched her hands close to her chest and leaned into the anger. Briefly she considered what he would do if she flung the now cold and untouched soup that sat on the floor beside her.
 
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Solgrin tried to remember what he had been like in his younger days. He could vaguely recall the obstinence of it all, trying his best to buck against every form of authority and make his own way.

The situation was of course completely different. He had been the son of a noble trying to go his own path. For all intense and purposes Serafina was a parakeet in a gilded cage who had no path to really choose from. She was resisting because it was all she could think to do.

Even if she didn't really want to.

"You need to get out of this room." He sniffed the air. "It's starting to smell in here."

That was not true, but she did actually need to get out. "There's things need doing still."

He told her, walking around the room idly and looking at things as though they truly interested him.
 
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Sera didn't bother to answer him as she seethed. The window pane against which she was resting had already begun to fog due to her irate breaths but now she audibly gave a loud huff to cloud it up more. Once she had a large enough canvas she began to draw a snowflake, ensuring every sweep of her finger gave an irritable squeak down the wet glass.

It had been Solgrin who had told her to rest whilst her leg healed. It had been Solgrin who had told her she would need help wherever she went. It was Solgrin who had told her her only purpose in life was to be used for his great deeds. She did not have any other job but to stay alive in order to serve him. Perhaps that was why she refused to eat or take care of herself. If she died the magic would too.

Once she was done with the first pane she began fogging up another one and repeated her annoying artistry.
 
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He shook his head as he sat on the bed. "So this is how you choose to spend your time?"

Solgrin said, his eyes glancing over the drawings upon the window.

Briefly he considered simply grabbing her by the scruff of her neck and simply dragging her down the stairs. It would have been a simple solution, but no doubt also escalated things to the point that she just slit her throat and declared herself done with it.

For now she might have been rebelling, but at least she had not thrown herself from the balcony. That was a sign at the very least.

"There's a library here." He told her, leaning back slightly. "I think your friend has been exploring it."
 
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Sera briefly paused in her work at the mention of a library. She hadn't thought that a place such as this would house one. From what he had said of its origins it sounded more like a military, strategic keep rather than one owned by the type of nobility who would bother to spend the time and energy hurling up tomes to these great heights. She wondered how many books in there she had already read, she did so enjoy-- Abruptly she scowled and went back to fogging up another piece of glass.

He wouldn't tempt her into feeling comfortable in this cage, he wouldn't.

"Go. Away," she repeated with a growl. The image of him on her bed brought back unwanted images, thoughts and feelings. Her fists was so tightly clenched now that her nails were digging into the soft flesh of her palm. Her gaze flickered to the bowl of soup and once more she considered hurling it at his head. "Your precious pet is healing, that's all that should concern you," she bit off and turned even further away from him.
 
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It was hard for Solgrin not to roll his eyes.

He couldn't help but remember the last time he had argued with a woman in such a way. That particularly conversation had ended with a pan being thrown at his groin, and although she had missed it had certainly been an eye opening experiencing.

"You're healed up enough to walk." He pointed out. "And there's half a dozen people that can carry you if not."

Including himself. "You're not stupid enough to think I'll let you rot away in here."

"There's a Library, a shooting range."
He doubted she knew how to use a bow. "If you're going to rebel at least do it constructively."

He goaded her with a smile.
 
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There was a sudden flare from the gem, piercing heat, and then the mirror that hung over the fireplace suddenly shattered. Tiny shards of glass that glistened like jewels in the glare of the fire rained down upon the tiled floor in a pitter patter of tiny chimes. There was one small, good thing that had come out of their time together; Sera had learnt that she didn't need to touch the gem to activate it anymore. Whether that was a by-product of what she had done to him or it had been true all along she didn't know but she would use it, or at least learn to.

Sera gave him a cold, dark look over her shoulder.

"Is that enough rebellion for you, Sir?" She sneered and turned back to staring out of the window.
 
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Solgrin shrugged.

"It's something more than sitting here." It had been hard not to suddenly flinch when the mirror exploded, but he managed to keep himself steady. A lifetimeof war and fighting kept him prepared for most things, though magic was still foreign to him.

He knew that she could express the power in raw, unformed ways, that he had seen for himself. It was the control that he offered which the gem really required. At least that was how he understood it.

She could not reach out and snap his neck with the power of the gem, at least not that he knew of. "Not so bad, is it?"

Solgrin said as he stood from the bed.

"The power?" Something that could corrupt even the most stalwart, the most innocent. "Now, think of what you could do with practice."
 
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