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Challenge #13: Until Gone


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#1 Solar's Harper

Solar's Harper

    Under Star & Sky.

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Posted 15 September 2008 - 08:49 AM

Work in progress preview, sometime before BG1 takes place. :)
Very special thanks to Choo Choo for a lifesaving worth of proofreading. :D :cheers:

Until Gone


~***~~***~

Clear starlit sky greeted the young elf and the foul smell of the sewers seemed to disappear immediately when she forced the sewer grate away. She lifted up the backpack with her free hand over her head to rest on the surface above. She followed up shortly after, catching her breath after her little ?adventure? in that wretched place below.

The night air of Silverymoon always felt cold in Midwinter. This night was no different than any other, though - still cold enough to bite your fingers and not feel any pain.

Well, actually, almost no different. She could mention that being dripping wet with sewer water and sitting in this chilling breeze, trying to warm herself up, wasn?t a particularly bright idea. She was tired, angry, and freezing to death, credit in no small part to this bloody treasure hunt; and there was no joke on how much blood had been involved in this night.

?Damn mages, always losing something and getting me into.. to?ACHOO!? The weather was catching up with her; she wrapped her arms around herself to keep the chill away. She sat there, staring at the precious backpack she went through all this trouble for. Or, more importantly, whatever it was that was inside its magical bindings.

?Nothing but trouble...?

She shivered; the wind was picking up fast. Staying out here was practically suicide, elvish immunities or not. A brief glance to the heavens above afforded a bit of comfort. There would be no snow down tonight, at least. "Back to the shadows as always," she thought, "like a good little girl scout."

~***~


Wandering down the streets this late at night made the elf wonder just what the great Lady Alustriel really thought of this town. Surely, the lady couldn't be happy with this particular slum, since it housed people like herself. At least the area was tidy, compared to the slums of other major cities. The boys never ceased to talk about it.

No guards were in sight, except for one drunken militiaman... if you could really count that shortie as a guardsman.

She decided to stop briefly on the edge of the neighborhood; she was only a short walk now from her destination. However, she should've kept walking; glancing to the other side of the street, she saw what looked like an orphanage from the rundown appearance. It was an old one, standing in tattered, beaten glory.

Beaten as it was, it taunted her, bringing back memories of how she was born into this world alone, her mother having disappeared in the northern wilderness after she was born ? her father just simply vanished from history altogether, like he was never there.

?Bastards, both of you,? she thought bitterly, as always. She only had her mother?s necklace as a memento, but what small comfort was a blue crystal tear when she needed a parent with her?

None, that?s what.

She kicked a stone in her path, hitting the rusting sign with a dull metallic thud. She strolled purposefully towards that cursed wizard and his lackeys; once she got paid, she was out of here. Out of here, and out of this cursed town that folk misjudged as a welcoming asylum of all that was ?good? in Faerūn.

~***~


?You?ve returned, and with the bag intact. You?ve done well, child.? The dark-beard grinned his usual smile, his companions watching her sit down next to him with careful consideration. She casually slung the bag onto the round wooden table, the candle almost falling over on impact.

?I did as you asked. Now, you?ll stop calling me a child and give me the payment that you promised.?

?Of course, of course,? the mage said as he handed the elf a stitched-together pouch of almost deceiving size. The weight of gold within should be what she needed to get out of the dump, at least, even if it was a little lighter than expected.

?Now then, child, I must leave with my colleagues. Don?t tarry too long; you have done the Harpers a great service, my dear. It is likely our enemies know of this, too. If you intend to leave Silverymoon, now is the time.?

?Thanks for the ?warning?, wizard,? she said and added sarcastically, ?just don?t call me up on your fool errands like this again. I almost lost my life for that precious bag of yours. I don?t care about your plans; just leave me out of them or Mask help me, I?ll cut off that beard of yours."

The mage apparently didn't feel particularly threatened; he laughed merrily.

?Child,? he levelled with bemused condescending air, ?with an attitude like that you will not get much further than this place. It was not my intent to involve you in our plans, I assure you, but time afforded us little choice. Farewell, and be safe.?

She was dismissed, and two men escorted the elven thief out of the room and back onto the cold street. The wooden door sealed tightly behind her, the slamming seeming to punctuate that she was no longer wanted here.

Oh well. She had enough of politics for one evening.

~***~


It?d be daylight soon. Her body groaned in exhaustion and every step was just as difficult as the last. Still, she was excited, because she had reason to be happy for a change. She could hardly wait to tell Chris.

Oh, and the snide remarks about how thievery doesn?t pay. Thievery was the lifeblood of people in their position, so why did he refuse it? Morals? It didn?t matter, it was about time she put that bratty human back in his place. Would-be paladin, feh. No wonder why Chult was too good for him.

She passed the cemetery gates, knowing that she wouldn?t be long now. Suddenly, however, a dark feeling of foreboding rushed into her mind. The elf found herself repeating the wizard?s warning over and over... And that bastard thug, why did his words bug her? It made no sense. Unless...

Oh no.

It couldn?t be true; she felt the adrenaline build up. Panic, mixed with fear that Christof and the others were... no! ?Bhaal be merciful!? she whispered and began to run, picking up speed and ignoring the nagging pain in her legs.

A few minutes later, she finally came across the run-down little shack she called home, and all at once she fell to her knees, crushed, unable to say a word... unable to do a thing... but stare.

Half of the unkempt building looked to have been smashed apart, blood dotted amidst the fallen bricks and wood. There were some large, crimson pools on the revealed floor and smears were slashed onto the walls near fallen bodies.

And among the corpses she saw the remains of her little brother, his body badly beaten, his life ended by a coward?s sword. She crawled over to him when her knees lost strength, she couldn?t see between the tears. She cried to him and to her entire adoptive family of runaways, but especially to him. He was the only one of them she had really liked, truly cared for in that way... and she had treated him like dirt!

"How could I have been so stupid?" her thoughts berated her, scolding as she took poor Christof?s head into her hands, his entire being limply obeying her directions without any sign of reaction.

She hugged him, muffling her cries; her dirty blonde hair mixed with Christof?s black dreads, loose strands sticking in the blood. She closed his eyes. Leaning away from his scalp to his lips, she gave him his first and only kiss... for what little it was worth, it was the least she could do after how she'd treated him, after how she dashed his feelings, despite all he had done for her.

She loved him. Both as a brother... and more.

~***~


It was almost an hour before she got out of her nightmarish daze. She stood covered in the blood of her family, and began burying them in the basement below.

No one would know. No one would care.

She hated Silverymoon; wherever she went in this place, she was met with only hostility. Why did people think so highly of this place? Was she the only one who saw the ugliness hiding behind the mask?

She shovelled the last dirt into place and retreated back to the rickety stairwell. Leaning backwards, she wondered what to do next.

Revenge, certainly. But where would she start? And what would she do after that?

She looked upward, suddenly noticing some kind of writing on the wall upstairs. Curious, she followed the stairs up, and saw the answer to her first question, written in blood.

Her fingers tugged on her short sword?s sheath on her left side, and smoothly ran upward to meet the hilt. She read the message over and over, teeth clenching behind sealed lips, her blue eyes for once concentrated in the flame of steaming hate

"Oh, so it's 'Alia, you're next', is it?" Her eyes narrowed on the ?next?, a sad yet determined smile forming on her dry lips. She would make him pay. She would make them all pay for this. She lost her family, and a little brother she had never really appreciated until he was gone.

She wouldn't make the same mistake twice.

The elf turned around and left the shattered remains of her home. She was no longer tired, no longer exhausted - she felt renewed. For the first time, she was driven by a purpose worth fighting for. A certain warm air seemed to allow her time to breathe, calmly wipe away tears and walk down the cold streets without a bite from the chill.

She prayed to the Lord of Murder, praying for vengeance, praying to the silent blade that had quietly remained sheathed on a thin band on her left wrist all this time. It touched her deeply now, and as she concentrated on it, she felt the cold sting of steel on pale white flesh.

It hungered, and she was just dying to satisfy.

Dogs barked. Cats screeched. The heavens above, fogged, anticipated what was yet to come.

~***~***~


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~***~***~***~

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