The World of Layonara
Character Development => Development Journals and Discussion => Topic started by: Eight-Bit on March 10, 2005, 02:10:00 PM
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A young woman walked through a layer of transient fog, wrapping itself around her, and fading as she passed. The bleak darkness surrounding her was illuminated by a brilliant light below her feet. The woman who walked through the mist was young, beautiful, with a warming glow to her deep, blue eyes. She appeared clean, having crisp and flowing red hair which fell with grace behind her. She embraced a care-free smile, flashing a row of small, straight, yet pointed teeth. Her hands rested casually at her side, swaying with great enthusiasm in each step. A figure crawling, with it's head hanging low, slowly materialized from the fog. It hung quietly beside the woman. The figure's outline was expressed clearly, the fog draping itself around it. Two deep yellow and piercing eyes looked out from the darkness around the figure. They followed the walking woman, watching her joyful stroll. In total silence, and with absolute grace, buildings rose from the fog which blanketed the ground. They were rough in texture, and a myriad of browns, blacks, and grays. Their rise was suddenly halted, and the buildings twisted, and evolved to unnatural shapes and angles. The oppressive structures seemed to loom over her, deeping the darkness around the walking woman. The fog pooling on the ground turned into a sickly red, and each building held more detail to her eyes than before. Doors, windows, stone and metal. The town forming around her grew darker. Gothic, yet at the same time, holding a strange and industrial feel. Slowly through the mist the outlines of people; very strange people, filled the streets. They moved at a pace slower than the walking woman. No two faces held the same appearance. The woman's pace then changed. She slowed, gracefully turning and moving towards one of the buildings. The two yellow eyes stalking her from the shadow watched. The woman grinned, drawing her hands over the wooden door until placing them upon a strange lock and chain on the outside. She placed a exotic key in the lock. The very moment the key unlocked the door, a horrible groan echoed from the ground, as if the very earth itself was falling asunder, yet no change came to the city, or it's people. The echo is all there was. The door of the building, shaped like crescent moon, opened slowly with a foreboding creak. As it did the rumbling groan grew louder. The inside of the building was deeply dark, the light from under her feet was drained, and washed away. A creature appear, scanning the street. Bringing it's sight upon all of the passer-bys, before looking directly through the young woman. It's features were corrupted and bestial, nearly appearing as a humanoid. It's black eyes focused on the figure crawling beside the woman. It glared through the crawling figure with a deep loathing. The creature was horrific to behold. The kneeling figure seemed to press the outlines of what would be it's temples, and the overwhelming atmosphere reached it's crescendo.
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Key woke quickly, covered in cold-sweat. With instinct she jumped upright, and brought herself to stand from the damp and hard surface, her eyes dancing in desperation in the darkness. Her breathing was erratic and she stumbled out of the alley, tripping on the refuse that piled there. The light of the morning sun lightly graced the darkness which surrounded her, as though it was afraid to enter the alley. Visions of the dream from the night before found there way back into thoughts. She threw her back against the wall, slowly sliding down. She curled her knees to her chest and hid her head in her hands. Looking forward at the bleak wall her eyes filled with guilt and sorrow.
There, in the solace of the alleyway, Key wept. Her heart was racing. Her blurred sight and pounding head reminded her of the night before. Looking about the dank walls around her, she regained the sense of herself. She jumped to her side, drawing a sword with instinct. But she saw nothing, save a wall and the refuse that has gathered there.
She ventured from the alleyway that she had called her home for the night into the blinding daylight and roaring activity of Point Harbor. Her bare, clawed feet, were warmed on the cobblestone walkways. She ignored the stares and whispering of the townsfolk, walking in random directions until something brought her some peace.
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The Profound Sorrow.Point Harbor was, as it usually is, a bustling collection of merchants and traders. Their shouts echo throughout the city. Even in the darkest alley, they still ring clear. But today was different. Today it rained. The rain halted everything in the harbor. Merchant vessels piled at the docks, unsure of damages the rain would cause to their cargo. Listlessly, and in a haze, she wandered the docks, the fog from the morning still pouring into the port with the rain. Everything was washed in a deep and imposing visage. A celestial halo formed around the street lamps. Ignoring the calls from the rain-soaked sailors and dockmen, she walked. Seemingly with a purpose, she turned to the nearest pub and stood, looking at the door. She moved to open it, putting her hand on the damp bronze handle. It was locked. She took a step back, away from the door and looked to the sky. She stood, watching the clouds pass and the rain fall for what felt like hours.
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Eventually the door opened. An old man appeared from behind the door.
"What are you doing, lass?" The old man's face expressed a troubled life. His skin appeared cured. He was obviously once a sailor, the salt of the sea air and the oppressive light of the sun aged the man a few extra years. This elder's eyes had many creases, and wrinkles. He seemed smiled often.
Without a response from Key, he asked again. "Lass, do ya see somethin' up there?" He pauses for a moment to appraise her. Walking with bare feet, and being utterly soaked with the rain, he mistook her for a vagrant. With a certain confidence in his step he walked out of the doorway, and into the rain with Key. Looking up with her, he asked yet another question. "Just the clouds and rain to my old eyes, young'un." He mistook Key's youthful appearance, which betrayed her true age.
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A group of men, ragged men, gathered near a pile of forsaken cargo. Their eyes were set upon Key. Still distracted, staring without any obvious cause at the sky, they chuckled and made gestures at her. Failing to catch their attention they slowly moved over.
With a concerned look on his face, the old man reached out to touch her arm. Her eyes shot down, glaring directly at the old man. The gentle touch became forceful, he dragged her towards the door. "Lass, this ain't the day for you to wander around alone. The sailors have no work to do, and are gettin' bored...", he said quickly. The men were not more than ten feet from the door before he pulled Key inside. He was very strong for such an elderly man.
She found herself at an aged bar counter. The old man spoke to her from behind it, taking a rag from his belt. "So, lass... what took you to my bar?", he asked. He made an attempt to keep his tone quiet. He was unsure of the woman he spoke to. Her features made him uncomfortable, but his sense of business and morals could not turn her away to the mongrels at the door.
With little notice to her surroundings, she spoke in a rough, and raspy tone. She had spent most of last night crying without knowing the cause. "Was lookin' t'git out'o th' rain, codger...", she kept her eyes focused on the counter top, almost afraid to see the reaction on the old man's face.
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He paused his quick movements about the bar for a moment after hearing her voice. It was not fitting of her frame, and betrayed her foreign nature. He spoke in a reassuring tone, hoping to atleast calm the odd woman at his bar. "I'm glad, atleast, I came to the door when I did. Those men were lookin' to have their way with you." She grew very upset at the thought, and her once pleasant features were twisted by an uncontrollable anger. "I kin mind m'self, codger.." He gave her yet another worried glance, before placing a bowl of steaming soup before her, along with a few slices of bread at it's side. "Go ahead, lass. Eat up. You look like you need it." She paused, unsure of the kind gesture that was bestowed upon her. She seemed reluctant to accept it, so unsure of the kindness of the denizens of the Prime. Slowly she began to eat it. At first, she took slow bites, under the warming smile of the old man. "That's a good lass." Her discomfort was quickly forgotten, as her hunger longed to be sated. Within minutes the bowl and bread were cleaned. The chill of the cold rain, and thoughts of the night before, became but lost memories. Slowly, and quietly, she expressed her thanks. Something that to her was even rarer than an act of kindness given.
"Than' ye, codger..."
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A silence grew between the two. The rhythm of the rain on the rusted metal roof was the only sound that filled the room. "So... lass, do you mind if I ask your name?", he seemed to have been building himself up to ask the question for some time now. She spoke in a quiet, grumbling tone. "Th' tag b' Key, codger..." He smiled at the name. "Then, why don't you call me Samuel then, lass - I mean Key...", he said with an amount of confidence. "Sammel it b', then...", her accent tore and corrupted the name. He seemed at least amused, perhaps even a little glad to hear his name spoken by another. It was obvious business was slow, very slow.
He made an attempt to break the silence between the two of them. "What takes you to the --", he was interrupted by a thundering sound at the door. The door nearly fell from the hinges. Again, and again. Something heavy was being bashed into the door. "Get behind the bar, lass...", the old man had a stern look upon his face. He knew what was on the other side. "The bar, lass! Get --", the door shattered into splinters. Half of it still lingered on the hinges. The old man shuffled quickly behind the bar, and returned with a hammer in his shaking hands. With soaked steps, and the rain dripping off of them, four men entered the bar. Their eyes focused directly on Key.
"Ahoy, lass. I couldn't help but notice ye was alone.", one of the men grumbled with a grin. Many of his teeth were missing. "An' since most of us ain't got anything to do, we figured you could use a bit of company.", another said, moving to stand beside the first. The other two stood behind, laughing and making rude gestures and comments. They all advanced towards Key.
She remained still. Silent. The old man glared at the four men, shaking his hammer. "Get out of here you mutts! Back to the sea with you!" He seemed to know he was no match for the four younger men. They had advanced toward her, two of them taking a seat beside her, the other two standing at her back, preventing any means of escape. One of the men shouted at the barkeep, "Stay outta this ol' man!" Another gave Key a rude glance; it was obvious what he was interested in. "Ain't you a looker...", he said, placing a large arm over Key, pulling her closer to him. "Aye, that she be...", said another, drawing two fingers along her face. Her eyes shot between the both of them, with a look that, for any other means except to stare, would have been used to kill. The old man watched in silence, ready to strike with his hammer.
The anger boiled inside her. Everything around the bar grew dark. As if the light itself was forced away. A shuffling of feet could be heard. Gagging. A cry of pain. Four loud thuds, bodies falling limp. When the darkness had faded, and the light returned, Key was gone. Four bodies lie on the floor of the bar, their blood seeping into the old oak.
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The young woman stood at the doorway, frozen in place by the horrific visage which skulked in the shadows. The watching eyes glew bright and danced in the darkness, a painful dance. The watching creature wailed and clawed at the air. The yellow embers in the darkness exploded into a brilliant flame. The beast's features were expressed fully in the light; long pointed ears, empty black eyes, a mouth full of fangs at painful angles, sickly grey skin. The beast grinned, it's features twisting, as if they were made of moist clay. It opened it's gaping maw, and uttered a simple phrase. "What makes you happy..?" A malodorous haze filled the walking woman's nostrils as the beast dove past her and escaped into the city, devouring the passing people. They did not notice the death which surrounded them, silently falling to the ground as the beast gnawed upon their flesh.
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Key awoke to her own shrieks, sleeping outside on the back wall of the Bard, Ozymandias's, home. The question Rhizome had asked her, and the same the beast in her dream, echoed through her head. She curled herself into a ball and watched the sun rise over the bay.
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"What makes you happy?"
The thought echoed through her mind, still lingering in the haze left from the dream of the night before. She squirmed, as she often does while sitting idle for too long, and curled herself up against the wall of the Bard's home once again. The sun has begun to set. A burning ember falling into the ocean. The amber and ruby vibrance danced between the clouds, in a chaotic waltz with it's reflection of the bay below.
"What makes you happy?"
The thought tore itself back into her mind. A pained expression washed over her face. She found no answers. Shaken by memories of a dream, of the creature that asked such a simple question with a complicated answer, she wept.
The sun finally set, and the vibrance faded to the grace of starlight.
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Finally, as the night came and the moon stood in it's silent dominance over the stars and the land below, she drifted away from the waking world, and returned to her nightmares.
Shaken by a sharp sound in the distance she slowly opened her eyes, expecting to see the now-familiar bay before her; yet the landscape was replaced by nothing. An absolute void. Nothing remained. Darkness, in every direction. She brought herself to a quick stance and drew her swords. Tucking them under her elbows, she placed her hands on the bottom of the hilt. A haunting, shrill laugh assaulted her senses. It seemed to come from every direction, as if the darkness echoed the taunting back at her.
Two red eyes erupted brightly in the dark void. Sickly and vile, they bore an animals taint. "Th' hell're ye?", she asked without regrets. Whatever was before her was an enemy. "The hell are you...?", the eyes replied. A toothy grin shot through the darkness, illuminated by the glowing eyes. Growing frustrated she growled, bearing her teeth to the creature. She dove to attack, crossing her swords, and preparing to strike at the creature's midsection.
A flash in the darkness. The creature moved. It disappeared. It's voice echoed to Key as she woke up to a sharp pain in her mouth.
"Find the Dreamer."
The pain was unbearable. It was as if her entire mouth sought to escape her jaw, as her teeth battled for space. This happened nearly every year to her, each experience more painful than the last. The previous set of teeth would slowly crack and fall loose as the new teeth below burrowed from her gums. Blood trickled down her lips as she feel into a dreamless sleep, the pain too much for her to withstand.
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Seasons changed. The summer which burned so bright this year had fallen into itself. Weeks of rain, and cloudy skies blanketed the land of Dregar. It was if the world itself was preparing for the explosion of color and sound which was autumn, where it burn it's embers and allow the cold hand of death to drag the colorful beauty from the land, and allow nothing but ice and snow to flourish. Life passed for her as it always did. She wandered, looking for something which eluded her, even in her own desires. She was without any direction, and drew away from her friends, and enemies. She had changed, even if she at the time did not understand why. She drifted from town, to town. Now able to atleast afford passage, and food, she still without a second glance or test of morals stole and cheated through her endless journey. She difted to Point Harbor, a familiar town which to her was a home for some time. With the change of seasons ahead of them, the dock workers and merchants worked without rest to push the last of their cargo, before the winter months came and a dangerous profession became suicidal. Without any real thought in her actions, she found herself at the door to the pub where all of this started.
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"What are you waiting for, Keille'leugh?" She ignored the voice. It pierced her ears even though it was trapped inside of her head. It grew louder with each passing day. And every day she tried to push down further, but the more she fought it the louder it became. Pain was the only thing that could clear her mind.
"There is nothing in there for you, Keille'leugh. Nobody can help you. Nobody at all." The cracking of bones shattered her silence. She cradled her hand as the voice drifted off in a haunting echo. She stared at the doorway which had seen a little repair since her last visit. Peering inside there were five others sitting at the stools. Unsure of herself she looked back at the sign, which still dangled from one hinge.
Drawn by her curious nature she ventured inside. Company, she thought, would bring her much solace tonight.
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She took in every last detail of the pub, much of it has changed, yet only enough as to make it seem new. It was all too foriegn to her. It felt too warm in here, as though the owners took too many measures to give it the humble appearance of a homestead.
She looked to each of the faces at the bar. None of them struck her as familiar. A few looked back, suprised at her apperance, but then quickly turning back to her drinks. She quickly made her way to a stool and brought a fist down upon the bar, tipping the stray mugs and glasses. All eyes were upon her.
"Where's Sammel?", she demanded. The keeper made to her over swiftly. She was an older woman, but not eldery. Someone who had seen too much life in too short of a time. A sorrowful look washed over her.
"Samuel died 'bout a month ago, dear.", she looked deeply at Keille'leugh, as she read her reaction as though shewere thepages of a book.
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An all-consuming darkness fell over her. She woke slowly, feeling as though she were light as air, on what felt to be the dusty floors of Samuel's pub. Looking around she saw nothing. Nothing at all. She could feel objects in the darkness, and examined their contours. As she slowly grew to understand her surroundings she stood. She had grown accustomed to moving in darkness, and in the darkness she realized she was not alone.
Yellow eyes watched her in the darkness. She leveled hers to meet them.
In a flash the yellow eyes were upon her. A hulking beast, calling out with woeful and bestial cries, tore at her with massive arms and claws. Piece by piece it tore her to the core. In the unbearable pain she passed, in nothing but a moment, into absolute peace.
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She woke in a shock, her eyes flying in desperation to see that she was still intact.
Morning came quickly, and with it came a blinding light. There was nary a cloud in the sky over Point Harbor and the sun took this to it's full advantage. In terrible pain and covered in bruises Keille'leugh crawled up from the pile she fell in to once again brave the streets of the bustling town. Flashes of the night before danced through her mind. She saw faces, but no one was speaking; as if her own mind was taunting her with what had occured. Just as her eyes grew accustomed to the light the splitting pain assualted her. A terrible pain, starting at the top of her head, and going down all of her side.
She walked up to a dust-covered window, dodging glances and ignoring the whispers. A horrible bruise, as though she had spent the night lying next to tipped inkwell, covered half of her face. Instinct took over as she checked her swords. They were still where she left them. She soon learned that everything was in proper order. Except the bruise.
Confused and wandering she pieced together the night before, trying to remember the way back to the old pub.
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There are some things in the world that are not meant to be known. Sometimes our history haunts us, and we choose to forget it. When what we've forgotten shows its face again, we often react with shame or denial. It is in our nature. Yet not in the nature of this young woman. She knows who she is now is not the woman she was, and this is what drives her. She knows it well, as she was told simple facts about herself she never knew from Remiel's half-brother.
That moment tears into her mind more often than ever. A moment that turned her entire perception of the world around. The looming figure of Remiel's mother standing over her wounded body, ready to kill her in a moment. The calm figure of his half-brother, healing her wounds and taking her away from his mother. The Fallen Star's dismembered corpse lying in a pile across the room was the focus of her attention, yet she still listened. Her age is what shocked her the most. Her nature described something deeper than she knew. The words that came out of her mouth, twisted and distorted sounds not meant for ears to endure.She watched the sword drawn from her spine in Remiel's hand. How could all of this have been forgotten?
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Today was the rapture. A feeling of severence ripped into her as she stood before the doors to the familiar pub. The windows were new, and she could seen inside. Something unholy was taking place inside. The old pub, that felt as if it was made entirely out of old ship hulls was nowhere to be seen. It came more as utter confusion than any other feeling to her. The people inside did not make sense. They were dressed well, groomed well, and amongst the few fine glasses - all containing wine or other such foul things as gentlemen's liqueur. She took in the changes to the place with a growing sense of fury and dischord. A fouling fog poured from the sea, as the ash in the sky was stirred up by a sudden rush of travelers in and out of the former pub. None of them evey looked at her, as if she were invisible - unseen. As if these people would not even take the risk of meeting her gaze. She looked down at herself, and then at the rambling money sacks drifting by, spouting talk of policitial and scientific babble.