Alanna of Trebond (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_lioness) wrote2007-06-06 06:28 pm
the_lioness) wrote2007-06-06 06:28 pm
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Nights like this should be stormy, Alanna thought, sitting beside her brother's coffin and trying not to retch at what was inside. Stormy and unforgiving.
The weather refused to cooperate with such clichés, however, remaining warm and clear. A cool spring breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees surrounding the clearing they had chosen for her grim task, making the night, in Alanna's opinion, far more pleasant than Trebond had any right to be. She'd kept an eye on the skies all day, during the hard ride from Olau and while Adam dug up Thom's grave, forcing her to rest and save her energy. Together, they tightened the ropes around the dank and rotting wood casket and hauled it back to the surface. Alanna looked at it as little as possible, divorcing herself from the task at hand, and concentrated on getting it to the clearing. With a long kiss and uncertain silence, Adam had taken his leave and retreated to the spot where he would await her signal. Tense and very much aware, Alanna had been left alone with what had once been Thom, and would soon be Thom again.
The images had come flooding back: memories from childhood, laughing and playing in this dark, dense forest; and the feeling of Thom's smooth hand in hers as life drained from his body. Swallowing hard, she pushed the lid off the coffin, felt the world swim and sank to the ground.
Later, she wondered if the smell was really as bad as she imagined, or if her heightened senses and the expectation of rot had exaggerated the experience. The thing inside bore little resemblance to her brother; several strands of red hair and a decomposing robe were the only signs that it might have been Thom. Neither of them was tall, but the body almost looked like that of a child. As she forced herself to stare at the corpse, a worm slithered out of an eye socket. She shuddered and looked away, but a little corner of her mind was amused at how appalled Thom would be at the sight.
"You look terrible," she remarked, though there was only the night air to hear. "I promise never to tell you. Unless you break your word, in which case I will describe your corpse detail by revolting detail, with a few extra worms."
Following a deep, cleansing breath, Alanna stood, palms resting on wood that had once been polished a rich golden brown. The moon was round and high in the sky, and by checking the position of the stars, she knew any further delay would be folly. Determined, she shoved lingering discomfort aside and embarked on the series of steps they had mapped out so carefully.
"It's too late to turn back now," Alanna whispered, lighting the last of the candles and palming a piece of cat's eye for confidence and willpower. She drew her sword and rested the tip on the ground, bowing her head. "Great Mother -- tilled from the earth, made in fire, cooled in water and raised to the air, my blade is yours."
In a complicated move, she bowed further and flipped the sword until it rested horizontally on her palms, then laid it in the cool dirt before the coffin. "Forgive me. I could make no other choice."
One step back, and another, and Alanna reached deep inside for the full force of her Gift. The spell books were open nearby, but she closed her eyes and began to speak the words of power, knowing that she had no need of books anymore; Thom had taught her well.
And then there was nothing but light.
The weather refused to cooperate with such clichés, however, remaining warm and clear. A cool spring breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees surrounding the clearing they had chosen for her grim task, making the night, in Alanna's opinion, far more pleasant than Trebond had any right to be. She'd kept an eye on the skies all day, during the hard ride from Olau and while Adam dug up Thom's grave, forcing her to rest and save her energy. Together, they tightened the ropes around the dank and rotting wood casket and hauled it back to the surface. Alanna looked at it as little as possible, divorcing herself from the task at hand, and concentrated on getting it to the clearing. With a long kiss and uncertain silence, Adam had taken his leave and retreated to the spot where he would await her signal. Tense and very much aware, Alanna had been left alone with what had once been Thom, and would soon be Thom again.
The images had come flooding back: memories from childhood, laughing and playing in this dark, dense forest; and the feeling of Thom's smooth hand in hers as life drained from his body. Swallowing hard, she pushed the lid off the coffin, felt the world swim and sank to the ground.
Later, she wondered if the smell was really as bad as she imagined, or if her heightened senses and the expectation of rot had exaggerated the experience. The thing inside bore little resemblance to her brother; several strands of red hair and a decomposing robe were the only signs that it might have been Thom. Neither of them was tall, but the body almost looked like that of a child. As she forced herself to stare at the corpse, a worm slithered out of an eye socket. She shuddered and looked away, but a little corner of her mind was amused at how appalled Thom would be at the sight.
"You look terrible," she remarked, though there was only the night air to hear. "I promise never to tell you. Unless you break your word, in which case I will describe your corpse detail by revolting detail, with a few extra worms."
Following a deep, cleansing breath, Alanna stood, palms resting on wood that had once been polished a rich golden brown. The moon was round and high in the sky, and by checking the position of the stars, she knew any further delay would be folly. Determined, she shoved lingering discomfort aside and embarked on the series of steps they had mapped out so carefully.
"It's too late to turn back now," Alanna whispered, lighting the last of the candles and palming a piece of cat's eye for confidence and willpower. She drew her sword and rested the tip on the ground, bowing her head. "Great Mother -- tilled from the earth, made in fire, cooled in water and raised to the air, my blade is yours."
In a complicated move, she bowed further and flipped the sword until it rested horizontally on her palms, then laid it in the cool dirt before the coffin. "Forgive me. I could make no other choice."
One step back, and another, and Alanna reached deep inside for the full force of her Gift. The spell books were open nearby, but she closed her eyes and began to speak the words of power, knowing that she had no need of books anymore; Thom had taught her well.
And then there was nothing but light.