Kail 'The fiend'
Posted: Sun Nov 06, 2005 3:14 am
Kail walked through the halls of the tower. In his right hand a small wooden sword, in his left a tiny wooden buckler, almost a tower shield beside his infant body.
He looked up at the bald tattooed head of one of the men in red robes who had just left his mothers laboratory. He walked past seeing through a gap in the door, his mother scrying runes of her own blood onto the floor. As he tried to peer through the gap closer, the man stepped back and closed the door so that he couldn’t see.
Kail carried on to his mothers chambers and went inside. He sat and played, hitting the open lid of a wooden chest with the wooden sword repeatedly, trying to copy the knights he had watched in training outside that afternoon.
Eventually the continual bashing broke his toy sword. He sat and cried, his mother would be angry, she would punish him for breaking his toys. She had before. He rested his belly on the edge of the chest and leaned in trying to pick up the top half of the broken toy sword. He rummaged through the rags and felt something cold.
Visions of battles and murder shot through his mind, hundreds of images of the deaths of men, elves, orcs, dwarves, dragons, fey and many other beings, cut down and slain.
For a second he tried to scream, so much horror for a child to bear all at once. He couldn’t he was stunned with fear.
Something called to him, he looked into the chest still. The pommel of a giant sword lay before him, uncovered. He wanted to touch it again. The thoughts excited him, it was like nothing he had ever seen.
His Hand reached down and gripped the cloth the sword was wrapped in. It was heavy, very heavy. He lifted it straining, pulling one end of the blade up onto the edge of the chest and then the rest of it up over.
The blade hit the floor with a heavy and deep thud, dampened by the cloth.
Kail unwrapped the sword, it surface was pure and dark, a window into the void itself. Dark forms moved through the dimensional space he saw within, shadowy figures looked back at him, malevolence in their red eyes.
A faint mist rose from the blade, not a vapour, more a trace of darkness that seeped through from the other realm.
Kail reached down and wrapped his fingers around the grip. Black veins coursed up his hand and arm and across his face. His eyes drained of colour, white as those of a winter wolf, his skin darkened to an unnatural grey shade. He leaned forward wincing in pain unable again to scream. The visions swarming through his head again, horrible things, terrible things, images of battles won and lost, in some he felt himself cut down and experienced death, others he fought off hordes of enemies, murdered people in their beds, and beat down those whom could not defend themselves.
Suddenly a blow to his side lifted him across the room, the blades touch was lost to him. He lay on the floor looking up at his mother, her tattooed face sneered at him in anger and disgust. She reached down and picked up the blade, a look of intense concentration upon her brow.
“You had a choice Kail! You could have been like me! You could have been powerful, but no you had to mess it up again, just like your bloody father!”
With that she gripped the blade in both hands raising it up strenuously above her shoulders and brought it down awkwardly through the air towards the face of the screaming child.
It seemed to Kail that the darkness came upon him almost before the pain of the blade striking.
The pain did not last, just the falling, he fell endlessly it seemed, echoed voices in his mind speaking of him, of things he could not understand, until his left eye opened. The muscles of his right eye throbbed as they tried to pull apart lids engorged with blood, swollen shut and still bleeding.
He looked across his own small chest. A huge, clawed, black gauntlet gripped the material of his shirt tight, lifting him, he swung through the air as the dark warrior walked, like a vision of hell itself the fiend paced forwards unaware that Kail was awake.
The eyes of the beast glowed red tracing lines of staggered red light through the air where they had passed. Dark black horns came down curving around it’s jaw, a ferocious jaw lined with horrible dark metallic teeth.
All across the beast’s body it was scaled and plated with the blackest of plates and scales. Kail closed his eye in fear that the thing would look down at him, swaying through the air for ages, petrified of what would become of him. Doors opened and closed, his feet bumped on steps as they ascended, until he felt himself laid down on something soft, a bed perhaps.
Nearby and he heard calm comments of men with strong voices. A door closed and he was left alone.
What would become of him? He felt alone and lost, in a strange place with no-one.
Alone the boy lay back, trying to fall asleep, hoping he would wake again tomorrow in his bed back in the tower, awoken by his mother as if nothing had happened. He knew it wouldn’t… he knew everything would never be the same again and so he cried himself to sleep. Into sleep he fell, crying for himself.
He looked up at the bald tattooed head of one of the men in red robes who had just left his mothers laboratory. He walked past seeing through a gap in the door, his mother scrying runes of her own blood onto the floor. As he tried to peer through the gap closer, the man stepped back and closed the door so that he couldn’t see.
Kail carried on to his mothers chambers and went inside. He sat and played, hitting the open lid of a wooden chest with the wooden sword repeatedly, trying to copy the knights he had watched in training outside that afternoon.
Eventually the continual bashing broke his toy sword. He sat and cried, his mother would be angry, she would punish him for breaking his toys. She had before. He rested his belly on the edge of the chest and leaned in trying to pick up the top half of the broken toy sword. He rummaged through the rags and felt something cold.
Visions of battles and murder shot through his mind, hundreds of images of the deaths of men, elves, orcs, dwarves, dragons, fey and many other beings, cut down and slain.
For a second he tried to scream, so much horror for a child to bear all at once. He couldn’t he was stunned with fear.
Something called to him, he looked into the chest still. The pommel of a giant sword lay before him, uncovered. He wanted to touch it again. The thoughts excited him, it was like nothing he had ever seen.
His Hand reached down and gripped the cloth the sword was wrapped in. It was heavy, very heavy. He lifted it straining, pulling one end of the blade up onto the edge of the chest and then the rest of it up over.
The blade hit the floor with a heavy and deep thud, dampened by the cloth.
Kail unwrapped the sword, it surface was pure and dark, a window into the void itself. Dark forms moved through the dimensional space he saw within, shadowy figures looked back at him, malevolence in their red eyes.
A faint mist rose from the blade, not a vapour, more a trace of darkness that seeped through from the other realm.
Kail reached down and wrapped his fingers around the grip. Black veins coursed up his hand and arm and across his face. His eyes drained of colour, white as those of a winter wolf, his skin darkened to an unnatural grey shade. He leaned forward wincing in pain unable again to scream. The visions swarming through his head again, horrible things, terrible things, images of battles won and lost, in some he felt himself cut down and experienced death, others he fought off hordes of enemies, murdered people in their beds, and beat down those whom could not defend themselves.
Suddenly a blow to his side lifted him across the room, the blades touch was lost to him. He lay on the floor looking up at his mother, her tattooed face sneered at him in anger and disgust. She reached down and picked up the blade, a look of intense concentration upon her brow.
“You had a choice Kail! You could have been like me! You could have been powerful, but no you had to mess it up again, just like your bloody father!”
With that she gripped the blade in both hands raising it up strenuously above her shoulders and brought it down awkwardly through the air towards the face of the screaming child.
It seemed to Kail that the darkness came upon him almost before the pain of the blade striking.
The pain did not last, just the falling, he fell endlessly it seemed, echoed voices in his mind speaking of him, of things he could not understand, until his left eye opened. The muscles of his right eye throbbed as they tried to pull apart lids engorged with blood, swollen shut and still bleeding.
He looked across his own small chest. A huge, clawed, black gauntlet gripped the material of his shirt tight, lifting him, he swung through the air as the dark warrior walked, like a vision of hell itself the fiend paced forwards unaware that Kail was awake.
The eyes of the beast glowed red tracing lines of staggered red light through the air where they had passed. Dark black horns came down curving around it’s jaw, a ferocious jaw lined with horrible dark metallic teeth.
All across the beast’s body it was scaled and plated with the blackest of plates and scales. Kail closed his eye in fear that the thing would look down at him, swaying through the air for ages, petrified of what would become of him. Doors opened and closed, his feet bumped on steps as they ascended, until he felt himself laid down on something soft, a bed perhaps.
Nearby and he heard calm comments of men with strong voices. A door closed and he was left alone.
What would become of him? He felt alone and lost, in a strange place with no-one.
Alone the boy lay back, trying to fall asleep, hoping he would wake again tomorrow in his bed back in the tower, awoken by his mother as if nothing had happened. He knew it wouldn’t… he knew everything would never be the same again and so he cried himself to sleep. Into sleep he fell, crying for himself.
)