NetNews Usenet Archive 1992 #27/NN_1992_27.iso/spool/alt/pub/dragons/4184

Internet Message Format | 1992-11-18 | 8.4 KB

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Organization: Central Michigan University
Date: Tuesday, 17 Nov 1992 14:55:29 EST
From: Mike Sander <[e-mail]>
Message-ID: <[e-mail]>
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: [DQ] Week 15: True Sight
Lines: 139

Lancos reluctantly faces the terrible sight of the murder the medallion had
forced him to commit. His first friend in the Inn stands before him, slumped
against the stake that transfixes his heart, pinning his body to the wall like
some ghstly icon of undeserved pain. Even to human senses, the smell of blood
hangs heave in the air.

"I... _I_ did this?" Lancos asks somewhat unbelieving, still in a daze from
the day's activities. The others leave the question unanswered.

Moved by a sudden, instinctive impulse of pity and regret, he grasps the end of
the stake in both fists. The wood is slippery with blood and the point has been
driven firmly between the stones of the wall, so it takes several efforts for
Lancos to haul it free. At last, it tears away in his hands. Kadrys' corpse
slides slowly downwards, exposing a broad swath of red on the wall, before
collapsing bonelessly into the clotting pool on the floor. Lancos spins and
hurls the stake at the empty throne where Raven had sat and enjoyed the
killing, then turns back to face the body, scrubbing reflexively at his smeared
hands, his breathing unsteady with unshed tears. He kneels to arrange the
body's sprawling limbs, stroke the agonised expression from its face, in the
only gesture of farewell he could give. The questers watch at a distance,
reluctant to intrude on the young man's grief. But their averted eyes all turn
to him at the sound of his gasp of shock.

Lancos is pointing with a shaking hand to the gaping wound in Kadrys' chest.
As they watch, the torn edges of flesh writhe and draw closer together, sealing
themselves. Within seconds the skin is whole, unmarked as if it had never been
pierced. As Lancos gets to his feet to stand staring at this eerie sight,
Kadrys' eyes snap open without warning, wide and totally empty of expression,
so black they seem to be holes opening into a cold and lightless void. He gives
a long, shuddering gasp of pain, his hands clawing reflexively at his chest,
and the next moment the terrifying black stare moderates, softening as
awareness returns to him.

[ADMIN: This post is being put on for Andrea Evans. I just didn't want to say
anything before this action, in order to keep the surprise factor intact.]

His glance moves from face to face, and he smiles quietly as he recognises the
astonished, beaming faces of the questers. Then, his eyes fall on Lancos, and
in an inhuman blur of speed he is off the floor and standing before Lancos,
hands clamped on the young man's shoulders in an unbreakable grip.

It takes all of Miro's Elvish reflexes to react. "WAIT!" he cries. "It was
the medallion. _It_ was evil, not _him_! He's lost it. He's back to normal.
He helped me free the others. He took the stake out. He brought you back!"

Meanwhile, Lancos does not offer any resistance to the grip, no words or
attempts at movement. Whatever Kadrys might do to him, he feels he would
surely deserve it.

Kadrys looks Lancos up and down. Even after he find that the medallion is
indeed nowhere on Lancos, his grip does not slacken. Only after the
inspection is complete does Kadrys' head turn toward Miro. As he does so,
it is seen that his eyes have regained some of their previous icy darkness.

"I _died_ at this man's hands." he rasps bleakly. Silence follows his words.
"I require proof that he did not desire, was not responsible, for my death.
If you are wise, _you_ will require proof that he does not intend to betray
you a second time. There is only one way to be certain of him. I will use my
gaze on him, look into his mind. If he has secrets, I will see them. If he
wishes to lie, I will know. Do any of you disagree with me?" he intones
formally. The questers stand silent. Then, one by one, they murmur assent to
Kadrys' suggestion. None of them meets Lancos' eyes.

At last Kadrys turns to face Lancos. "Do _you_ disagree?" he asks.

Lancos draws a deep breath, bracing himself. "I had hoped --rather naively,
l'll admit -- that freeing you would show my TRUE intentions." Then he glances
at the questers, and sees some wariness. He continues in a quieter voice, one
with little conviction. "But I know you have your reasons. And _I_ still trust
_you_ enough. I just hope you find my memories more bearable than I."

Kadrys nods once, silently, in acknowledgement. His hands slide up Lancos'
shoulders, their fingers encircling his neck with terrifying gentleness.
Kadrys directs his next words over his shoulder at the assembled questers.
"I will have no interference from you if I find him a traitor..." he growls in
warning. The questers' faces grow even grimmer at these words, but again no one
raises their voice to disagree. They all know they cannot afford to be betrayed
again.

Kadrys finishes waiting for any dissent, and turns back to face Lancos. Their
eyes lock. Suddenly, Kadrys' pupils dilate, blazing with the force of his will.
Lancos feels his soul falling into those fathomless wells of flame, falling and
being engulfed. Time comes crashing to a halt as his mind is enclosed and
permeated by an alien darkness, cold and vast as midnight unrelieved by a
single star.

Lancos felt the inward call for mental resistance at a presence trying to
get inside his mind. But unlike the times he'd worn the medallion -- among
other occassions --, he did not heed the call. 'Best to make this as easy
and painless as possible for Kadrys' he thinks, not knowing the vampire
was experienced enough to handle the process without complications.

Against the backdrop of that blackness, memories burst forth in his mind with
pitiless, perfect clarity. Again, Lancos experiences the sudden internal
struggle as the medallion wrests control of his body from him. He feels again
the hideous sense of total powerlessness, of being imprisoned inside his mind,
peering out of his eyes as if throught the bars of a cell. One more he sobs
helplessly as he sees his own hands drive the stake through his friend's heart;
unable to do more than watch as Kadrys dies in torment.

And then, like the turning of a dark tide, the other presence recedes from his
mind and Lancos is aware of the outside world once more.

The questers have watched in silence as the vampire turned the fire of his
gaze on the young fighter, waiting in breathless suspense for any movement
in the thin pale fingers curled around Lancos' throat. At last, the movment
comes. Kadrys' hands fall away from Lancos' neck, moving down to grip his
shoulders once more. But unlike the last time, the grip is _not_ the clench
of a predator's talons on an intended kill: it is almost a hug.

Kadrys smiles, gently, regretfully. "I am sorry I mistrusted you, Lancos.
Can you forgive me?"

'Instantly! It's myself I cannot forgive.' Lancos thinks to himself, boggling
in disbelief, "_Me_ forgive _you_? Ohgods..." he dissoles in the laughter
that is a release of nervous tension. "You're back to normal, and so am I.
Let's go see if we can do the same for SunStorm and TrueSilver, and get
_out_ of this place."he finishes, glad to see the questers smiling for the
first time in what feels like centuries.

"It won't be that simple." Miro countered. "You'll have to go after that
priestess -- Noira --; she's got a trap set up. Meanwhile, I'll get the
spirit she captured -- probably only it can free SunStorm, besides the
obviously unhelpful Dark Master."

As the others file out behind Miro, Lancos pauses on the threshold and dashes
back into the room, snatching up the bloodstained stake from Raven's throne
where he had hurled it. He shoves it in his belt and hastens back toward the
questers. Kadrys' eyes follow the fighter's movements, and when Lancos
returns to the group, Kadrys arches his eyebrows in silent enquiry.

"Rave gave this to me. If I get the chance I'm gonna give it back. Point
first." growls Lancos.

Kadrys nods in grim approval and the two grip hands for a moment, the touch
of the vampire's skin removing all trace of the blood from Lancos' hands.
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Michael Sander [e-mail]