Eye of the Needle
Posted: Tue Aug 04, 2009 4:13 am
Aluthera walked briskly from Matins to the Hunter’s Gate where she was to meet her two friends. There was a bounce in her step and a smile on her lips as she clutched the straps of her stylish and all too impractical traveling pack. The words of the Dawnbringer’s sermon gnawed at her though, threatening to sour her excitement at what lay ahead. “More difficult it is for a false soul to see the light of dawn than for a cart heavy laden to pass through the eye of a needle” he had said, his penetrating gaze lingering over each of his flock as if judging the sincerity of their faith. Aluthera had cast her eyes down as he looked her way, her face flushing with the guilt of her secret knowledge. By the Dawn, it was only a tiny lie, a harmless tale and no harm to come of it. She would not let the old priest and his penitent stare ruin her mood she thought, and prayed that he had not noticed her blush enough to bring him to raise issue with her father. Father had risen far in the church, and was a devout and obedient man. It would pain her to bring any shame to him. Looking up she saw the sun begin to fall west, and doubt, like a shadow across her path caused her to pause and look back towards Matins. Just then Avelon and Everil glided into the market road talking between them in their musical tongue. Seeing her Avelon waved happily, and all thoughts of turning back left her in a rush. She almost skipped down the path to meet them, promising herself she would make proper amends for her venial sin upon their return. Thoughts of the twinkle in the old dwarf Daglor’s eyes at the surprise of their welcoming brought a smile to her lips as she stepped to greet her friends, the sun dipping towards the horizon beyond the gate.
* * *
The shadows lengthened as the setting sun made its downward plunge. Dark shapes took form, like ghouls rising from between the roots of trees and beneath the stones that lined the travel worn road. Another shadow walked among these new arrivals. Dark. Foreboding. Dangerous. Some seemed to flee his very step, while others appeared to bow and nod in recognition of a kindred soul. The shadow among shadows continued down the deserted road. Few traveled past sunset these days. Tales of the undead plague had the sheep cowering in their pens. The night belonged to his kind now, and that was as it should be he thought. Wandering off the road he walked through the wild places as Selune began her slow climb. He silently cursed her light, and whispered a prayer that it be shrouded forever in shadow.
A pack of wolves prowled along the river bank just beyond the short bridge. He counted six in all as they flitted through the ever waning light and the cover of the brush. One alert female turned as she spotted him, growling a low alarm to the others. He brushed aside his dark cloak, showing the long hilt of the curved blade scabbarded at his hip. Standing motionless, he waited as the pack leader approached, head low with back arched and threatening. Their eyes met, and something akin to recognition passed between them. The large wolf paused, as if uncertain, a strong wind beginning to blow. Gray clouds raced across the already darkened sky, born upon the foul wind, suddenly blotting out the white face of the Goddess. Only her tears remained, trailing behind like some lament for the loss of light to the coming darkness. The bitch who had first seen him threw back her head then in a mournful howl. Soon the rest of the pack took up the song, and the lead wolf turned and loped off, his brood following behind him in search of less ominous prey.
The shadow looked to the cloud shrouded moon and the trailing tears and smiled. Then a sound came to him on the quickening wind. Voices. Lilting, high toned voices, that seemed to him like the bleating of a lost fawn in the dead of night. He quickly scanned the path ahead and his smile broadened as he noticed a stand of stones looming beside the road ahead. Padding off swift and quieter than any wolf, the shadow melted between the stones and listened. The doomed chorus loomed closer, and the shadow’s hand rested against the ancient stone in anticipation. The old stone was cold beneath it. Cold as death. All warmth from it fled with the growing darkness. Three brightly clad figures took form as they approached in the deepening gloom. A hand grown cold left the stone, and drawing the darkness around it like a cloak, waited.
* * *
The walk from the City to the Keep had been filled with youthful excitement. As always, Aluthera marveled at her elven friends. More like bright eyed young schoolgirls they seemed to her than the centuries old scholars they were. Their gold tinged skin, ageless and without blemish glowed in the setting sun. Eyes like jewels glinted beneath tawny locks held back with spun silver. Ah to be like them, sighed Aluthera. To live for centuries, and forever young, without care for the passing world. Well, at least Avelon seemed without a care. Everil had done his best since they had passed the Keep to turn them back. The Keep guards had warned them against taking the road at night. They told of abominations prowling the roads. Shambling dead things that dragged the unsuspecting into the night never to be seen again.
“Let us be prudent Alu,” said Everil. “We will meet Daglor on the road from Rivermoot by midday tomorrow. Let us take shelter in the Keep, and we will set out with the dawn.” Aluthera would have none of it, however. The tale she had told her parents bought her freedom until the following sunset at best. They must walk through the night if they had any hope of returning in time. “Oh fie, Ev” she had said pursing her lips “you worry more than an old gram. Don’t you want to see the look on Daglor’s face when he sees us waiting on the Rivermoot dock as his ship approaches? I want to greet him with the coming dawn, not waste it huddled in the Keep.” Avelon laughed, a sound that always seemed to Aluthera like water cascading from a fountain. “He sounds old because he is old sweet Alu. Isn’t that right brother? By the Father are those lines I see creasing your brow?” Alu and Avelon laughed together as Everil’s frown at Avelon’s teasing creased his brow as predicted. “You see, you see!” said Avelon pointing and the two laughed some more. Grasping Everil’s arm in hers, Aluthera said “Oh come dear Ev, what does my father always say? Mugging a deep voice she continued, ‘Fear not the darkness of night for ever shall the dawn rise on the morrow’” Giggling she continued, “Surely Lathander will see us safely through to our friend’s homecoming.” “Indeed” said Avelon, “and who ever heard of a Quessir in terror of the dark? Perhaps I shall study this condition after consultation with the Vault Sages brother. You shall be the test subject for my work, and the model for my research. What say you?”
Everil gave way, though reluctantly, and the three set off on the road, the guardsman sharing worried glances between them. To Everil’s relief the trek to High Hold had been uneventful, and even pleasant as Sehanine’s light opened the path before them just as they made the Hold. No effort or will could keep the carefree Avelon and the determined girl from the road now. Still, a sense of foreboding gripped Everil, and it was with trepidation that he took the road again from the Hold as the full dark of night descended. Soon after, his foreboding seemed to take form as wolves howled in the distance and dark clouds born on an ill wind filled the sky and blocked the Moonbow’s beams. “Where was the dream mistress guiding them?” Everil mused as he trudged warily along the road. Alu and Avelon seemed oblivious to the gathering dark, laughing and even singing as they walked hand and hand down the darkening road. “Do try not to make so much commotion you two.” Said Everil, as they passed a stand of old gray stones. Avelon turned and stuck his tongue out at him mockingly, just as Alu cried out “Look! A deer on that hillock. It’s a doe I think!” She exclaimed excitedly. Everil watched the deer as it stood frozen a moment at the sound of the girl’s shout. Its body, appeared at first so still, but to his keen eyes in truth quivered from nose to tail in alarm. Alu turned to him with a delighted smile just as a muffled voice spoke calmly from the standing stones behind him. “Don’t move” was all it said.
* * *
The shadow watched the two elves and the young girl approach. He studied them patiently, like an old owl watching mice. They bore no weapons. The trailing elf had a wand in his sash.” Dark and Empty” the shadow thought as they literally skipped by him, “I’d best move quickly or I’ll have to fight the wolves off.” The shadow nocked an arrow to his bow. Drawing up his mask he took aim at the trailing elf’s back. From the dark cover of the shadow shrouded stones he told them not to move. As he spoke, a young doe on the hillock ahead leapt away, its white tail flashing high like a reminder of Selune’s light against the dark night.
* * *
Everil froze at the sound of the voice, immediately fearing the worst had befallen them, as did Avelon. “Who are you” his brother exclaimed nervously without turning, “What do you want of us?” “Silence” hissed the shadows. The single word, long and drawn out, seemed to Everil like the sound of a snake uncoiling from among the stones. Everil felt fear take hold of him. “Leave us alone!” said Avelon “We have nothing for you, please, we are only scholars from the Vault traveling to meet a friend. A dwarven scholar returning from studies at Candlekeep” “I’ve a bow at your backs” spoke the muffled voice. “Another word and I’ll put an arrow in each of your hearts. Now move off the road into those trees, and slowly.” As he moved to comply, Everil noticed Aluthera ahead of Avelon for the first time. Stark still she seemed, yet quivering much like the doe upon the hill. Suddenly, the young doe bounded off and a tearful cry tore from Aluthera as she sped off down the road screaming into the night.
* * *
The sound of the voice froze Aluthera in her tracks. She saw it, there among the stones beside the road. A dark and hooded shape rising like a nightmare out of the shadows. She looked to the young doe on the hill and their eyes met, locked together for a moment frozen in time. “Flee!” the eyes cried to her. “Flee for your life or never again see the dawn!” As the doe bolted, so too Alu turned and ran screaming for the small bridge ahead. As she sped away watched the deer leaping over the river stones. “Just another step” she thought, her heart racing. “One more step to the bridge.” Suddenly, she felt something caught in her throat. She tried to clear it, but seemed to have forgotten how. She realized then that she was lying on the cold stones of the road. “How odd she thought” at the strange scraping sound as she turned her cheek onto the stone. Staring unable to move, she saw the young doe stop and turn toward her from across the river. Darkness closed around her, and the voice of the priest at Matins that morning echoed in her mind.
* * *
The girl’s cry brought the shadow’s bow instinctively to bear. The arrow screamed through the darkness striking the fleeing girl in the back of her neck just below the base of her skull.. She pitched forward in mid stride, half the length of the shaft protruding from her throat, falling in a sprawl a few paces from the bridge. The shadow stared a moment, a thin smile tugging at the corners of his mouth under his mask, impressed with the flight of his shot in the dim light. “Now, you two into the trees” he said looking back up the road. Only more darkness and shadow. His smile grew. The elves complied, one even beginning to whimper and pray to their blessed Seldarine. “Who was the girl?” He asked. With quavering speech the elves told him the girl was a daughter of a priest of Lathander. The one who had challenged him on the road began to plead “Take whatever you wish, but please, do not harm us, we will do whatever you say.” “Don’t turn around.” he said. “Empty what you have onto the ground.” He watched as several gems spilled from a silk purse hastily dropped to the sward and whispered a prayer of thanks. “Everything now, quickly” he hissed through the mask. “Now lie down on the grass, face down and spread eagle.”
* * *
As Everil lowered himself to the grass listening to his brother’s whimpering prayer, he was struck by the intense green of the grass on which he lay. Even in the darkness, it seemed to him brighter than any grass he had ever before beheld. Then the darkness seemed to recede, and the sounds of birds singing and elven laughter surrounded him. It is a miracle, he thought, as he rose to his feet. Just then he heard his brother’s scream, and turning saw a black cloaked figure drive a bright blade through his back as he tried to rise and run from the dark clearing where they had lain. A crimson spray burst from Avelon’s chest as the blade was pulled free. Turning back with longing to the green, sunlit valley he hesitated a moment, then ran back to Avelon’s side, his world again plunged into blackness.
* * *
The shadow watched the two elves prone on the grass for a moment considering. Then straddling the one he drove the point of his blade through the thin elf’s back and half into the grass covered field beneath. The other jumped up and tried to flee. He thought for a moment to let him run for the nearby river bank and then corner him there for some sport, but thought better of it. Quick as a viper he struck, reaching the fleeing form in two strides. First he slashed across the bak of the elf’s legs, stopping his flight. Then he plunged the blade between its shoulders, retracting it quickly out again, like the sting of a scorpion in the dark. The shadow dragged the two slender bodies close to the river bank and dropped them where he had seen the wolf pack prowling earlier. He collected the spoils from the grass, carefully avoiding the blood that pooled there. Sprinting quietly to the trees by the road he listened. Silent, dark and empty. He padded like a wolf, low and hunched, to the body of the girl lying sprawled in the road. He grabbed hold of her arm to drag her away and already it was cold. Cold as the stone by the road.
* * *
As the tall ship ferried up to the Rivermoot dock, Daglor thought to himself that it was good to be home again. He missed his books, and his friends, especially Alu, his favorite student. By Moradin’s beard he even missed the two elves, and their long discussions and debates over dusty tomes, wine and ale deep into the night. He scanned the docks, secretly hoping to see his friends among the faces there. It was with some disappointment that he sighed and collected his things from the deck as the gangplank was lowered. As Daglor walked towards the gate, heavy leaden with a new box of books for the Vault, he felt the uncomfortable feeling of eyes upon him. Looking back, he saw a dark clad and hooded figure, leaning against the pier. The raven like figure seemed to be staring at him, though his face was shadowed by the folds of the hood. Daglor turned full around and stared at the man, and the space beneath the hood broke into a wide and toothy grin. A cold shiver ran up Daglor’s spine, and he took up his box and pack again and turned towards home, an ill wind commencing to blow.
((Thanks to Regas for the inspiration))
* * *
The shadows lengthened as the setting sun made its downward plunge. Dark shapes took form, like ghouls rising from between the roots of trees and beneath the stones that lined the travel worn road. Another shadow walked among these new arrivals. Dark. Foreboding. Dangerous. Some seemed to flee his very step, while others appeared to bow and nod in recognition of a kindred soul. The shadow among shadows continued down the deserted road. Few traveled past sunset these days. Tales of the undead plague had the sheep cowering in their pens. The night belonged to his kind now, and that was as it should be he thought. Wandering off the road he walked through the wild places as Selune began her slow climb. He silently cursed her light, and whispered a prayer that it be shrouded forever in shadow.
A pack of wolves prowled along the river bank just beyond the short bridge. He counted six in all as they flitted through the ever waning light and the cover of the brush. One alert female turned as she spotted him, growling a low alarm to the others. He brushed aside his dark cloak, showing the long hilt of the curved blade scabbarded at his hip. Standing motionless, he waited as the pack leader approached, head low with back arched and threatening. Their eyes met, and something akin to recognition passed between them. The large wolf paused, as if uncertain, a strong wind beginning to blow. Gray clouds raced across the already darkened sky, born upon the foul wind, suddenly blotting out the white face of the Goddess. Only her tears remained, trailing behind like some lament for the loss of light to the coming darkness. The bitch who had first seen him threw back her head then in a mournful howl. Soon the rest of the pack took up the song, and the lead wolf turned and loped off, his brood following behind him in search of less ominous prey.
The shadow looked to the cloud shrouded moon and the trailing tears and smiled. Then a sound came to him on the quickening wind. Voices. Lilting, high toned voices, that seemed to him like the bleating of a lost fawn in the dead of night. He quickly scanned the path ahead and his smile broadened as he noticed a stand of stones looming beside the road ahead. Padding off swift and quieter than any wolf, the shadow melted between the stones and listened. The doomed chorus loomed closer, and the shadow’s hand rested against the ancient stone in anticipation. The old stone was cold beneath it. Cold as death. All warmth from it fled with the growing darkness. Three brightly clad figures took form as they approached in the deepening gloom. A hand grown cold left the stone, and drawing the darkness around it like a cloak, waited.
* * *
The walk from the City to the Keep had been filled with youthful excitement. As always, Aluthera marveled at her elven friends. More like bright eyed young schoolgirls they seemed to her than the centuries old scholars they were. Their gold tinged skin, ageless and without blemish glowed in the setting sun. Eyes like jewels glinted beneath tawny locks held back with spun silver. Ah to be like them, sighed Aluthera. To live for centuries, and forever young, without care for the passing world. Well, at least Avelon seemed without a care. Everil had done his best since they had passed the Keep to turn them back. The Keep guards had warned them against taking the road at night. They told of abominations prowling the roads. Shambling dead things that dragged the unsuspecting into the night never to be seen again.
“Let us be prudent Alu,” said Everil. “We will meet Daglor on the road from Rivermoot by midday tomorrow. Let us take shelter in the Keep, and we will set out with the dawn.” Aluthera would have none of it, however. The tale she had told her parents bought her freedom until the following sunset at best. They must walk through the night if they had any hope of returning in time. “Oh fie, Ev” she had said pursing her lips “you worry more than an old gram. Don’t you want to see the look on Daglor’s face when he sees us waiting on the Rivermoot dock as his ship approaches? I want to greet him with the coming dawn, not waste it huddled in the Keep.” Avelon laughed, a sound that always seemed to Aluthera like water cascading from a fountain. “He sounds old because he is old sweet Alu. Isn’t that right brother? By the Father are those lines I see creasing your brow?” Alu and Avelon laughed together as Everil’s frown at Avelon’s teasing creased his brow as predicted. “You see, you see!” said Avelon pointing and the two laughed some more. Grasping Everil’s arm in hers, Aluthera said “Oh come dear Ev, what does my father always say? Mugging a deep voice she continued, ‘Fear not the darkness of night for ever shall the dawn rise on the morrow’” Giggling she continued, “Surely Lathander will see us safely through to our friend’s homecoming.” “Indeed” said Avelon, “and who ever heard of a Quessir in terror of the dark? Perhaps I shall study this condition after consultation with the Vault Sages brother. You shall be the test subject for my work, and the model for my research. What say you?”
Everil gave way, though reluctantly, and the three set off on the road, the guardsman sharing worried glances between them. To Everil’s relief the trek to High Hold had been uneventful, and even pleasant as Sehanine’s light opened the path before them just as they made the Hold. No effort or will could keep the carefree Avelon and the determined girl from the road now. Still, a sense of foreboding gripped Everil, and it was with trepidation that he took the road again from the Hold as the full dark of night descended. Soon after, his foreboding seemed to take form as wolves howled in the distance and dark clouds born on an ill wind filled the sky and blocked the Moonbow’s beams. “Where was the dream mistress guiding them?” Everil mused as he trudged warily along the road. Alu and Avelon seemed oblivious to the gathering dark, laughing and even singing as they walked hand and hand down the darkening road. “Do try not to make so much commotion you two.” Said Everil, as they passed a stand of old gray stones. Avelon turned and stuck his tongue out at him mockingly, just as Alu cried out “Look! A deer on that hillock. It’s a doe I think!” She exclaimed excitedly. Everil watched the deer as it stood frozen a moment at the sound of the girl’s shout. Its body, appeared at first so still, but to his keen eyes in truth quivered from nose to tail in alarm. Alu turned to him with a delighted smile just as a muffled voice spoke calmly from the standing stones behind him. “Don’t move” was all it said.
* * *
The shadow watched the two elves and the young girl approach. He studied them patiently, like an old owl watching mice. They bore no weapons. The trailing elf had a wand in his sash.” Dark and Empty” the shadow thought as they literally skipped by him, “I’d best move quickly or I’ll have to fight the wolves off.” The shadow nocked an arrow to his bow. Drawing up his mask he took aim at the trailing elf’s back. From the dark cover of the shadow shrouded stones he told them not to move. As he spoke, a young doe on the hillock ahead leapt away, its white tail flashing high like a reminder of Selune’s light against the dark night.
* * *
Everil froze at the sound of the voice, immediately fearing the worst had befallen them, as did Avelon. “Who are you” his brother exclaimed nervously without turning, “What do you want of us?” “Silence” hissed the shadows. The single word, long and drawn out, seemed to Everil like the sound of a snake uncoiling from among the stones. Everil felt fear take hold of him. “Leave us alone!” said Avelon “We have nothing for you, please, we are only scholars from the Vault traveling to meet a friend. A dwarven scholar returning from studies at Candlekeep” “I’ve a bow at your backs” spoke the muffled voice. “Another word and I’ll put an arrow in each of your hearts. Now move off the road into those trees, and slowly.” As he moved to comply, Everil noticed Aluthera ahead of Avelon for the first time. Stark still she seemed, yet quivering much like the doe upon the hill. Suddenly, the young doe bounded off and a tearful cry tore from Aluthera as she sped off down the road screaming into the night.
* * *
The sound of the voice froze Aluthera in her tracks. She saw it, there among the stones beside the road. A dark and hooded shape rising like a nightmare out of the shadows. She looked to the young doe on the hill and their eyes met, locked together for a moment frozen in time. “Flee!” the eyes cried to her. “Flee for your life or never again see the dawn!” As the doe bolted, so too Alu turned and ran screaming for the small bridge ahead. As she sped away watched the deer leaping over the river stones. “Just another step” she thought, her heart racing. “One more step to the bridge.” Suddenly, she felt something caught in her throat. She tried to clear it, but seemed to have forgotten how. She realized then that she was lying on the cold stones of the road. “How odd she thought” at the strange scraping sound as she turned her cheek onto the stone. Staring unable to move, she saw the young doe stop and turn toward her from across the river. Darkness closed around her, and the voice of the priest at Matins that morning echoed in her mind.
* * *
The girl’s cry brought the shadow’s bow instinctively to bear. The arrow screamed through the darkness striking the fleeing girl in the back of her neck just below the base of her skull.. She pitched forward in mid stride, half the length of the shaft protruding from her throat, falling in a sprawl a few paces from the bridge. The shadow stared a moment, a thin smile tugging at the corners of his mouth under his mask, impressed with the flight of his shot in the dim light. “Now, you two into the trees” he said looking back up the road. Only more darkness and shadow. His smile grew. The elves complied, one even beginning to whimper and pray to their blessed Seldarine. “Who was the girl?” He asked. With quavering speech the elves told him the girl was a daughter of a priest of Lathander. The one who had challenged him on the road began to plead “Take whatever you wish, but please, do not harm us, we will do whatever you say.” “Don’t turn around.” he said. “Empty what you have onto the ground.” He watched as several gems spilled from a silk purse hastily dropped to the sward and whispered a prayer of thanks. “Everything now, quickly” he hissed through the mask. “Now lie down on the grass, face down and spread eagle.”
* * *
As Everil lowered himself to the grass listening to his brother’s whimpering prayer, he was struck by the intense green of the grass on which he lay. Even in the darkness, it seemed to him brighter than any grass he had ever before beheld. Then the darkness seemed to recede, and the sounds of birds singing and elven laughter surrounded him. It is a miracle, he thought, as he rose to his feet. Just then he heard his brother’s scream, and turning saw a black cloaked figure drive a bright blade through his back as he tried to rise and run from the dark clearing where they had lain. A crimson spray burst from Avelon’s chest as the blade was pulled free. Turning back with longing to the green, sunlit valley he hesitated a moment, then ran back to Avelon’s side, his world again plunged into blackness.
* * *
The shadow watched the two elves prone on the grass for a moment considering. Then straddling the one he drove the point of his blade through the thin elf’s back and half into the grass covered field beneath. The other jumped up and tried to flee. He thought for a moment to let him run for the nearby river bank and then corner him there for some sport, but thought better of it. Quick as a viper he struck, reaching the fleeing form in two strides. First he slashed across the bak of the elf’s legs, stopping his flight. Then he plunged the blade between its shoulders, retracting it quickly out again, like the sting of a scorpion in the dark. The shadow dragged the two slender bodies close to the river bank and dropped them where he had seen the wolf pack prowling earlier. He collected the spoils from the grass, carefully avoiding the blood that pooled there. Sprinting quietly to the trees by the road he listened. Silent, dark and empty. He padded like a wolf, low and hunched, to the body of the girl lying sprawled in the road. He grabbed hold of her arm to drag her away and already it was cold. Cold as the stone by the road.
* * *
As the tall ship ferried up to the Rivermoot dock, Daglor thought to himself that it was good to be home again. He missed his books, and his friends, especially Alu, his favorite student. By Moradin’s beard he even missed the two elves, and their long discussions and debates over dusty tomes, wine and ale deep into the night. He scanned the docks, secretly hoping to see his friends among the faces there. It was with some disappointment that he sighed and collected his things from the deck as the gangplank was lowered. As Daglor walked towards the gate, heavy leaden with a new box of books for the Vault, he felt the uncomfortable feeling of eyes upon him. Looking back, he saw a dark clad and hooded figure, leaning against the pier. The raven like figure seemed to be staring at him, though his face was shadowed by the folds of the hood. Daglor turned full around and stared at the man, and the space beneath the hood broke into a wide and toothy grin. A cold shiver ran up Daglor’s spine, and he took up his box and pack again and turned towards home, an ill wind commencing to blow.
((Thanks to Regas for the inspiration))