Fear the Nothing I have Become
GAME: Dolan rolls will: (3)+10: 13
GAME: Andelena rolls Will: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL)
The dream starts off in Wilderness Pointe. The pair of dreamers stand in what is known to them both to be a dream. It has that particular feel that dreams have, and those that walk by them have indistinct features. All save one. One man pulls himself free of the crowd that makes way for him and moves to Dolan's side. His green eyes are bright, feral things, and he hovers over Dolan eagerly. "Hello Amber-eye."
Across from the dreamers, some hundred feet off into the crowd another form takes shape. This figure is more distinct than the rest of the dreamers, his green eyes roaming over the crowd with vague interest until his eyes land on Dolan, Andelena, and the dream-image of Kol. He smiles.
Sharp lightning lances through Dolan's back and shoulders as the image of Kol greets him, and he fairly freezes in place, looking around him. "Ah shit," he mutters, a prickle of fear lancing through him. _It's going to be another of these nightmares! Andie doesn't need to see this! Focus on the temple!_ It's a hard thing to do when one's thoughts are so scattered, and so focused on the wrong things, but he starts by picturing the grass in the courtyard of the main temple, and one white pillar.
Andelena's eyes latch onto Kol, and there's an instinctual jerk in her hand to the hilt of Deliverance, both fear and killing intent dueling for power in her grey eyes. But before she can draw the blade, she hears Deliverance's voice, more maternal than any voice that ever came out of her own flesh-and-blood mother: "Be not afraid. Have faith, for you are in the dream."
A breath and she calms herself--than steels herself and her heart. Her hand moves to take Dolan by the hand. Daeus, the Knight's Temple, where the altar is, where the grass that Dolan and she laid in together grows, where she's effectively lived for weeks now to aid in recovery. To aid in *healing*, and a healing that wasn't just Dolan's alone. "Have faith," Andelena murmurs. "Have faith."
GAME: Andelena rolls Will: (7)+10: 17 GAME: Dolan rolls will: (7)+10: 17
The dream-Kol ignores Andelena, just as he had in reality and pays only attention to Dolan. "I will do what pleases me, when it pleases me to do so. Nothing will stop me from that. Not a crowd of people, and not... you." Here he looks at Andelena, but it's dismissively. He only has eyes for Dolan.
Across the crowd the other man is coming. He looks... Exactly like the dream-image of him, though perhaps the eyes are less glowy, his features slightly less exaggerated, his smile not as broad. Like the dream image of himself, he only initially has eyes for Dolan, but then he spots Andelena when he has nearly reached the pair whom are focusing on trying to change the scenery around them. "YOU!" His voice booms out, shredding the existence of the crowd, but not the image of himself that is looming over Dolan. Though that wavers for a moment also. "YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME!" His eyes are furious, but his grin is from ear to ear.
"That's not joy, Kol." Terror prickles through Dolan again, but the inner inquisitor whispers in his ear. _This is no image! This is the real Kol, in the dream! Does that mean he exists in both places?_ The farmboy, though, has a very different mindset, and that is to cut off his access to Andelena! Instinctively, he steps between Andelena and Kol, _staring_ at him. _He's going after Andie!_ "I don't belong to you. Who was that little boy, Kol? What makes a man think torture is beautiful? Show me!" The words come out desperate, shaking, but he doesn't move.
A person shouldn't exist in duplicates, but the dream is, of course, no place for logic such as that. Andelena struggles for a moment, the crawling of fear cold on her neck as her hand goes, once again, for Deliverance... but not to draw the blade. "He is not mine to claim, as no man can be claimed--or should be claimed," Andelena says, her steel-grey eyes and voice both firm. "He wanted to go home. I brought him home."
Home--the little boy--both seem to play in her head, as her head whips around to the Kol that is speaking to Dolan. Deliverance feels warm and comforting in her grasp. "Where is your home, Kol? The one you grew up in."
GAME: Dolan rolls will: (10)+10: 20 GAME: Andelena rolls Will: (20)+10: 30 (CRITICAL SUCCESS)
The dream-image of Kol disappears without attention paid to it and the man himself tilts his head at the questions. "What?" His fury is gone in a puff of confusion. Then suddenly he is gone as well. Transformed into a little boy. Not more than three or four. Tall, and wire-thin. You can see the small things that mark him as being Kol. The green eyes are a dead give-away. He's wearing rags that barely cover his too-slender form, and you can see his bones easily. He's a starved thing, pale skin half-covered in brises.
Around you a tiny little shed of a house forms. Barely big enough to be called a house. The floor is dirt. From the other room you can hear the pitiful sound of a baby crying. Kol pays it no mind, sitting on the floor, his eyes dull and hopeless.
A big man walks in and spots the boy on the ground and frowns at the sound of the infant. It's cold you realize suddenly, terribly cold. Without explanation the man pulls a scourge from beside the door and marches toward the boy. Kol looks up but doesn't move, doesn't try to flee. He can't be more than four, but he doesn't try to stop the huge man from beating his feet bloody with the scourge. He starts to cry, silent tears, but the man notices and beats him harder for it. "Stop crying you wimp! Stupid bastard!"
Dolan can only stare, stunned, at the brutality that answers their question, the image of the scars on Kol's bare feet suddenly mating with the image of the man beating the child. That then, is the answer to his question - brutality beyond all sanity. _THIS is evil,_ the inner inquisitor says firmly. _A cycle, then. A vicious cycle. A man tormented - and tormenting others in turn, because it is all he knows._
Somewhere, deep within Dolan's horrified mind, a resolution crystalizes. _No. It stops with me. I will never do that to another._
There's pain for Andelena--the kind that not only hurts in her heart, but hurts deep down in her /soul/ to see a child, especially a child so neglected and so unloved, hurt by someone who had no reason to hurt someone at all. Tears spring in her eyes just to watch it, and her hand remains on Deliverance's hilt.
"Compassion, Andelena," Deliverance's voice comes softly, and the word springs forth in her head the word itself, the acts she's done in the name of the virtue. There's an inkling of thought in her head, a mad hope born of dreaming: could she save the little boy in this dream?
"Stop it," she orders of the man. Intruding where others might mind their own business. Somewhere it doesn't matter in her head that this is a vision of the past, that there's no point in intervening. Compassion and justice calls in equal measures so brightly in her heart.
As if driven by Andelena's command the dream changes. This time Kol is standing out behind the little house, a baby in his arms. It's... clearly dead. He places the corpse in the ground and buries it as best he can. There's a line of little graves, marked with stones piled up. In some places the stones have been knocked over, but there's too many of them. He's a little older now, but not enough. Not old enough to be burying his kin. He looks up, covered in dirt and a woman approaches him. "Dead is it?" She asks roughly.
"It stopped crying." He replies softly in return, looking at her as if she's the world. Like most children look at their mothers.
"You've got to stop crying kid. He'll just beat you harder for it. You're not dead, so you might as well smile. Pain is part of life." She's talking idly, looking at the graves and shrugging as if they don't really matter to her.
"I do not want to die." He says.
The woman nods. "Then smile. Show the world that you're happy to be here. Embrace the pain, 'cause the dead don't feel no more." With that she turns away.
"Wait! Can I... get something to eat?" He asks hopefully and she shakes her head and scoffs.
"Get your own food. You're old enough."
"Andie. Just watch." Dolan almost whispers, some part of his brain still in stunned shock and growing anger at the hideous neglect and abuse of a child - and another, critically cataloging as one question after another is answered in his mind. The logic the woman espouses is at once brutal, and something in his mind whispers, _She is already emotionally dead._
Unconsciously, he reaches for Andelena, reaches for her hand.
Dolan's words aren't even needed, because there's no words that Andelena has now for this scene. The anger and righteous fury just boils away to horror and pain. There's valuable information here in this scene and in the last, and while she takes it in... it's horrible to watch, especially for someone with such strong convictions as hers.
She takes Dolan's hand with her other free hand and squeezes it hard, shaking her head. Deliverance's hilt is warm and comforting even still.
The scene changes, and the boy is surrounded by indistinct figures. A few of them are more distinct than others, but the only one familiar to them is the mostly-indistinct figure of... Is that Verna? Kol is older again. This time closer to eight or so. He's holding an infant in his arms, distantly keeping it from crying by holding it against his shoulder.
"They haven't named her yet. She might not make it through the winter." He says this very matter-of-factly to the shadows around him.
"Well," one of the shadows says with a feminine voice, "I think they don't realize how mean that is; even if she doesn't survive, doesn't she deserve to be remembered? Loved? What do you think, Kol? Would you like to give her a name?"
The shadows mumble and Kol looks at the infant. "How about Nalla?"
The name makes the vison resolve. A much older Kol this time. Eleven or so, ushering a girl of no more than three out a window as the man from the first vision returns. "RUN NALLA!" He says, and stands his ground between the man and the little girl who bolts into the woods. The man grabs him by the scruff and carries him outside into the winter cold. Tosses him out onto the half-frozen lake. For an instant the ice holds, and then he's dumped full-body into the water. "Last time that bastard defies me!" The man grunts and wanders back into the house.
But someone is watching, a beautiful woman with long dark hair and red eyes. Her skin as smooth and pale as the moonlight.
_Verna? That's strange,_ Dolan's inner inquisitor whispers. _Ask her about that, the next time you see her. It sounds like she knows more than she let on._ His eyes narrow, the ice in the water counterpoint to the fury in his soul at the brutal man again. _I know who's the bastard, and it ain't the kid,_ the farmboy inside him snarls, but all he can do it watch, the inner inquisitor warning him not to move, not to interfere.
At least, not until the woman with red eyes shows up. _That's the vampire,_ the inquisitor whispers. Part of him starts to move, but Andelena's hand is still in his, keeping him anchored as a spectator.
Andelena notices Verna, too, and the confusion on her face spells out her reaction--but that's replaced by the anger that boils in her as she watches the man mistreat the young Kol again. Her hand squeezes Dolan's for comfort: a silent signal that says, /I know, I don't like it either./
Deliverance's hilt feels different in her hand once the vampire has appeared, but the blade stays quiet beyond that. The itch to go to move after her is much the same as Dolan's, but the sword stays sheathed for now.
The boy is nearly a man now, better cared for. His hair no longer dank, his body not covered in dirt or mud. He's not a half-starved thing, but still slender and lanky. He's chained to a wall like Dolan had been while the woman beats him bloody. He makes soft sounds for her, and after a moment she moves to him, brushing her hands through his hair fondly. "You like pain, do you not Kol?" He nods faintly and she smiles at him like he's beautiful. "You're so beautiful like this. Here drink." She cuts her finger and urges him to drink her blood. Closing the wounds on his back rapidly.
"Pain is beautiful." He repeats, stretching his body as best as he is able. "Keep going Mistress. Give me more? Let me know that I am alive."
Her laughter fades into the dark and the vision becomes a confused image of a castle burning and then Kol, as himself is standing before them, a confused look on his face.
He looks at Dolan, and abruptly disappears as if yanked from the vision. Gone.
Dolan is left to stare in stunned silence at the rest of the vision, everything he had experienced and everything he has seen suddenly crystalizing. A convulsive shudder ripples through him, the ghost of everything Kol had put him through suddenly converging in his mind.
And yet, still the inner inquisitor whispers. The thought remains, _This is twisted evil, that teaches that pain is to be desired. Yes, it is a part of life, but - to seek it? To desire it? Wickedness, to be stopped in the name of the Sunlord._
Through these thoughts, the burning castle intrudes. _That castle - where is it?_ So much floods him at all once, and yet - that is different.
It's a long moment for Andelena before she moves again, and the first movement is her letting out the rest of the breath in her lungs. She does not let go of Dolan, but she lifts a hand to her eyes to dry the tears that have fallen.
"Bry," she murmurs softly, before she turns to embrace him, her arms going around him. She's thinking about everything in an analytical sense in the back of her head, but right now--she wants warmth. She wants the opposite of what just happened.
GAME: Dolan rolls will: (9)+10: 19
Instinctively, Dolan's arms wrap around Andelena in turn, and he pulls her to him, leaning his face into her shoulder as the enormity of everything- all at once, hits him like a truck. About the only thing that keeps him from descending into his own nightmares, the natural follow-on to the last scene, is a desperate cling to the image of the burning castle. _Where was that, and whose is it? Is there more information there, on what will destroy this tortured and twisted creature?_
"Andie," he mutters hoarsely. "The castle. Help me. I didn't know that. Maybe there's more there. Something more we can use to put that twisted creature out of his misery. Please."
Andelena nods into Dolan's embrace as he holds her and she holds him, and while there's still the reeling from all that they've seen in her head--the Sunguard is called upon to aid. "I can," she says, and she thinks back to the castle burning in the memory, pulling on that thread in concert with him.
GAME: Andelena rolls Will: (15)+10: 25 GAME: Dolan rolls will: (6)+10: 16
The castle returns, and with it the realization that it's daytime. The vision is much sharper, cleaner and more realistic now than the ones previous to it. The fire is raging through the castle. Kol and his mistress stand at the edge of the doorway. Inches away from the line that the sun makes on the ground. It's clear that for them both it is a choice between death by flame, or death by sunlight. Kol holds his hand out toward the woman. "Come with me Mistress. We can have the sunlight one more time - together."
She shakes her head fearfully and he looks sad in spite of his smile. His eyes show it. Then, he steps fearlessly out into the light... and does not evaporate. He stands there stunned for a moment and smiles at his mistress, eagerly holding his hand out for her. She seems equally surprised and takes his hand. He pulls her out into the sun and... She turns to ash in an instant. Falls apart in his hands and he falls to his knees.
He's smoking softly, steam rising off of his skin as he clamors to his feet, tears streaming down his face in spite of the smile he wears. He looks at the sun. "Why? Why me?"
There is no answer.
What blossoms in Dolan, as he watches, still holding Andelena tightly, is the unbridled, stunned compassion that had been lurking in the back of his mind since first he sat, dizzy with agony after a brutal beating, on a four-poster bed in a cave now far away from where. "To end him would be a mercy, Andie," he whispers, his head against her shoulder. "But - kindness in the ending would be a thing he has never known."
Andelena holds Dolan, her hand going to burrow into his hair affectionately and pat it down. "I know," she whispers back. "He needs us to put him to rest, for good. He might be our nightmare, but... He's his own nightmare, too. The fact he's back is a nightmare even to himself."
She closes her eyes. "Compassion," she murmurs. "I've let anger take me too long when it comes to him. A Sunguard... must exemplify Compassion."
Andelena holds Dolan a moment longer, squeezing him a little, before she opens her eyes again, and says, "Then that is what we will give him."
There's an echo around them, a voice. Neither male nor female, but somehow both and neither. The voice is quiet, but the sound is easily heard. "Vengeance is not the duty of a knight, and there is mercy in the Light."
Andelena doesn't let go, doesn't dare to let go, not for a moment. How could she, when she needs him as badly as he needs her?
But then there is the voice, the sound, and she stops dead in her tracks. Her eyes go wide as it dawns on her who and what that sound must have been, and the tears renew in her eyes once more. She holds Dolan a little tighter for a moment before she lightens up. "I hear your words, Sun Lord," she whispers, nodding. Too often had she let vengeance take her heart.
"As do I. Your message is clear." That's what Dolan had thought, and a measure of validation floods through the Corona. "There are ways to know that we live, Andie. Pain is one of them, but that's not the only one, and it's not the best one. Sometimes you have to, but - He calls us to mercy, baby, and that's what we're gonna do. Kol was reborn in a moment of fear, but it's compassion that's gonna send him back where he belongs. Because that poor bastard deserves it too."
-End