Pain. All she felt was pain.
Merriya's world was filled with agony. Sharp, stabbing pains wracked her limbs and body. Each breath was a torture, as she could feel the fractured ends of her ribs pressing against her lungs. The torn and rent remains of her armor cut cruelly into her flesh, sending a fresh flow of blood coursing over her with the slightest movement. Struggling against the mass of obsidian that held her in an unforgiving embrace, Merriya craned her head forward and spat out a mouthful of blood out onto the floor.
From her vantage point, high above the floor of Ginhalyn's meeting hall, Merryia could see a thick pool of bright blood surrounding the wide shaft of obsidian in which her body was embedded. Her sword lay in the pool, stained and spattered with her own lifeblood, far beyond her ability to reach it.
With a sob, Merriya let her head fall forward, her chin resting upon the cool surface of her breastplate. Her tears began to drip down across her cheeks, creating long streaks though the film of blood that covered her face and armor
"So Lady Knight, I bid you a fair day," Ginhalyn's voice cut through the fog that muddled her senses.
Slowly, painfully, Merriya raised her head and opened her eyes. Before her, unmindful of the thick pool that was staining his robes, stood the elven Necromancer, a slight smile evident.
"M-m-monster," Merriya managed with a cough and a spray of blood and spittle
Taking a step forward, Ginhalyn extended his hand. "I can release you, you know," his smile became sharper, more predatory.
"H-how?"
Ginhalyn chuckled, "Simple, just take my hand."
"Your hand?" Merriya turned her head to look at her own arm, embedded deep in the smooth mass of obsidian. Dejectedly, she looked back at the sorcerer, "Impossible."
Ginhalyn laughed again, a deep rumbling chuckle that seemed to echo in the confines of the hall. "Is it? All you have to do is put aside all that you hold dear and you will be free."
"A-all...?"
"All, Sir Merriya de Blackmere, Knight of the Order of the North Star." He made the title sound almost like an insult, or some great joke that only he understood. "Put them aside, release yourself from their confines, _give_ yourself to me... and you will be free from pain and suffering." Ginhalyn raised his hand further, reaching out to Merriya's entrapped form
"Free...?" Merriya whispered. All she had to do was release herself from the confines of her order, her vows, her family... and she could be free of the pain. She paused, considering the wizard's words. Put aside her vows? All that she held dear and right? "no..." the word was barely audible, Merriya dry swallowed and tried again. "No! Ginhalyn, you foul-hearted coward! I deny you!" Her voice came through with surprising strength.
"Hmph..." Ginhalyn snorted, "So be it then." He crooked his finger slightly, and Merriya felt a sudden flaring of agony and the audible snapping of bones as the torment began anew.
"NOOOoooooo!!!"
With a sudden rush Merriya sat up, looking around fearfully. Where was she? Where? Then it all came back with a rush: Ginhalyn's stronghold, the dark sorcerer, his anger at her ill-chosen and boastful words, her torments, the memory mercifully blurred and hazy; then... Trailstone.
Taking a deep breath, Merriya tried to calm herself. It had been a nightmare, and it had left her shaking uncontrollably; her body slick with sweat. Fortunately, the others were too preoccupied with the business of making the evening meal to notice her agitation. Slowly, as not to disturb anyone else, she rose and quietly walked away from the clearing where the Company had made camp
Usdulf noticed her as she disappeared into the brush. Frowning, he looked around the camp, but everything looked peaceful. He went over to Durruth, who was helping Frettchen peel root vegetables for dinner.
"Cover guard for me for a few minutes," Usdulf said. "I need to go check something."
Durruth nodded and picked up his bow, lying nearby.
Frettchen raised an eyebrow. "Who's going to help me peel the 'neeps, then?"
Usdulf had already turned away to follow Merriya, and Durruth just shrugged, smiling.
Once away from the campfire and her own sweat-soaked blanket, Merriya found the night air cool and refreshing. Dressed in only hose and her linen shirt, she shivered slightly as the evening breeze blew across her damp clothing. Taking several deep breaths, Merriya leaned against a tree. After long minutes she felt her heart slow, the blood no longer pounding in her temples. Finally she felt calm and collected enough to once again open her hands and look at the palms. Hoping desperately that what she had seen earlier was only the misremembered part of a dream and not cruel reality.
A tight knot of fear settled deep in her stomach as Merriya studied the markings on her hands. Each bore a broad pentagram, black against the moonlight whiteness of her palms. They looked almost like brands. She recognized the symbol instantly, it was the mark that had once been used to identify those that had turned coat against their fellow men and had given themselves over to aiding the Spawn. Ginhalyn had branded her as one who was an ally of the Spawn; a criminal and an outcast to be hunted down and killed with out mercy or remorse
Clasping her hands together, Merriya brought them to her mouth, chewing anxiously upon the knuckle of her thumb as she thought about what she'd seen. She had a dim memory of Ginhalyn, promising freedom from her plight, but there seemed to be a terrible price associated with it. Falling to her knees, Merriya knelt under the tree, alternating prayer with bouts of muffled sobbing. She had failed... her family, her Order, her companions and most importantly, she had failed herself.
Shaking and weeping, Merriya wrapped her arms tight across her chest, hands gripping the thin fabric of her shirt. Her prayers must be falling upon deaf ears. The gods; Koran, Aggoran, Kadduk, Tyr... they cared little for falsehoods and failures, for cowards and weakness. And she had most certainly been weak. She had allowed her pride, in both her rank and station to become more important than her vows. She had spoken foolishly and rashly, endangering the whole company with her sharp and witless tongue. She had failed to lift her sword and strike at a great evil when it had been thrust into her face. In addition when her actions, or more correctly, the lack thereof had been pointed out to her, she had responded with petty insults and an act of bravado. It would have been better, Merriya thought bitterly, to have died in Ginhalyn's hall. It would have been a just and fitting end, a harsh, but well deserved lesson
Rising slowly, using the narrow tree trunk for support, Merriya staggered further away from the camp. She felt sick and cold, hoarse with a great lump of despair lodged in her throat. She continued to cry, her sobs coming forth in great choking gasps. Stumbling forward, she tripped over a length of fallen branch, pitching face first into the mold of the forest floor.
Merriya sprawled weeping amid the bracken of the forest floor. Her actions in the Necromancer's hall had proved that she did not deserve the title of knight, or her place in the Company, or anything at all. She was worthless
Throwing herself to her feet, Merriya fled blindly into the shadowed darkness of the surrounding forest. She had no destination; she was running to escape herself, her failure, her weakness. She ignored the branches that slapped her face, scratched her limbs, and tore her clothes; just as she ignored the broken twigs and sharp rocks that cut and bruised her bare feet. Her breathing was a ragged tearing cough
Merriya would have run all night if she could, she would have run until her lungs had given out or her legs failed under her. She had painfully smashed off several trees and she already bled from many small cuts and scrapes. Then suddenly she tore through a thick stand of bushes and fell into a swiftly-flowing mountain stream.
Gasping and sputtering, Merriya broke the surface immediately, trying to catch her breath after the sudden shock of the icy cold water. The frigid current soaked her instantly, chilling her right to the bone. Try as she might, Merriya could not swim against the rapid flow. Her limbs felt numb and it was all she could do to keep her head above water. The river pushed her further and further downstream, blinding her with stinging spray and battering her against great rocks.
The waterfall arrived with no warning. One moment, Merriya was striving to grab some outcropping, some branch overhanging the rocky mountain stream, and suddenly she found herself falling amid a brilliant silver spray to land with a great splash in a deep pool.
After a brief instant of panic underwater Merriya's head broke the surface again. She thrashed and coughed water out of her lungs, finally floundering her way to the shallows. Rising to her knees in the water, Merriya wiped her eyes and looked around her, exhausted
She had landed in a great pool of water, nestled within the confines of a quiet forest glade. All around her stood the silhouettes of towering trees, dark against the bright moonlight. The pool itself was deep and dark, the waterfall an oddly muted roar. Rising to her feet, Merriya managed a few wavering steps before collapsing amid the ferns and tall grass that lined the shore.
"... merriya..."
Merriya blinked water out of her eyes. Had someone called her name, or was she only hearing the wind?
"Merriya." The voice was clearer now. A woman's voice, gentle and musical
Swallowing slowly, Merriya managed get her hands under her and push herself to her knees. Turning around, she looked across the quiet expanse of the glade to find a woman. A beautiful woman, wearing simple homespun garments and holding a basket. Her hair was red and loose, her eyes were gentle and wise.
"who..." it was hard to find her voice, "Who are you?"
The woman came towards her. With her came the scent of springtime, of flowers, of the harvest, all at once. Wildflowers bloomed in her footsteps. Her voice was as gentle as her eyes.
"I think you know who I am, Merriya."
"Heddith... Goddess of Mercy," she whispered, forgetting for the moment her current state of disarray.
Heddith kneeled by Merriya, reaching out her hand to touch Merriya's cheek. The simple touch calmed Merriya's racing heart, dispelled her fears, soothed her.
Merriya closed her eyes at the sudden release. She felt calm, at ease, free of pain and hurt. "Lady Heddith," she whispered, "why?"
"Your heart is in turmoil, Merriya. What is it that you want, above all other things? What is the true wish of your heart?"
Her true wish? Merriya swallowed hesitantly as she considered the goddess' question. What did she desire, deep within her heart? What was her greatest wish?
"To be strong, Lady Heddith."
Heddith frowned and turned away. "Walls are strong; mountains are strong. Hearts may be strong, but seeming is deceiving -- great knights may have hearts made brittle by pride, and weak peasants may find it in themselves to resist overwhelming evil, even when it means their certain destruction
Heddith turned back half-way, holding her hand out for a butterfly, which lit on her finger like a gossamer flower. "Merriya, answer your own question -- why did you pray to me; why did you run?"
"Because... because I failed, my Lady. I was weak in the face of great evil and... and almost brought everyone to ruin." Merriya said, choking off a sob
Heddith turned and cupped Merriya's cheek. "Beware what you ask for, my child, for you might receive it. If I gave you the strength you ask, you would fall into the same error. Do not confuse strength with wisdom.
"There are the seeds of great good in you, my child. And like all mortal things, the seeds of great evil, too. Do you see those seeds, Merriya?" Heddith's eyes seemed huge, as if Merriya could have fallen into them forever
"I... I don't know."
"I see you running in a field of daisies as a girl, Merriya. I see your desire to help others, to protect the weak. There is much good in you, and much potential for good
The goddess' voice turned harder, like velvet over steel. "But I also see your future paths, and many of them are dark. I see a woman grown hard with fighting evil, with death, until there is nothing left in her heart but hate and fury, and no task remaining but bloodshed."
In Merriya's mind an image came clearly; a warrior came staggering from a battlefield, armour mired in blood and filth. Her long hair was dark and loose, streaked with grey at the temples and splattered with blood. She held a vicious axe in one hand. The other hand was missing, replaced with a nasty hook. Her face was scarred, her lips twisted with fury. Her eyes were hellholes, visions into pits of insanity and despair.
"N-no!" Merriya shook her head at the sight, "that is not me, that is not what I want!"
"That is not the worst path, either. I see much worse yet. I see a warrior grown to be a commander, making hard decisions. Pride, and focus on slaying evil regardless of the cost, will make her more feared by her men than the spawn, and more merciless. In fighting the spawn she becomes worse than they are; binding the kingdoms of men in an iron fist to unify them against the spawn. Her name becomes a byword for tyranny."
The image that came to Merriya's mind was a woman in middle age, hair mostly grey. No scars marred her features, but hard lines and flat grey eyes made it clear she never smiled. She rode a warhorse in front of an elite troop of mounted crossbowmen into a conquered city. Her men rode warily, crossbows loaded. The city folk dispersed before her. Out of half-closed windows the faces that looked out held fear and hate
"Please, Lady Heddith, I do not wish that either..."
"This is what you asked for, Merriya. This is the strength you thought you wanted. Do you wish it still?"
"No." Merriya bowed her head, ashamed at the scenes the goddess had shown her. "I only wished to be strong in the face of evil. To be able to stand against the likes of Ginhalyn and not be afraid."
Heddith brought her other hand up to Merriya's other cheek. Her beautiful face filled Merriya's vision; her warm hands smelled of flowers, and springtime, and new-mown hay. Her eyes were as green as emeralds. Her voice was gentle again
"These visions are not the future, child. They are one future, out of many.
"I have heard your prayer, Merriya de Blackmere, and I look upon your soul. I have it in my power to give you the strength you need, though it may not be the strength you ask for.
"The gods give powers to those who assist them, and sometimes choose a mortal champion to aid their causes. I offer you this chance, once and once only. I offer you the chance to be my champion
"There is a price for this boon. You are mortal still, and mortal will remain. My enemies are legion. As my paladin they will be your enemies as well, and will hate you with special fire. My blessing will be some protection, but no surety of victory.
"And there is another price, harder for you to pay, and you must pay it every day of your life. You must give up your anger, your hatred, and your pride. You must turn your anger and hatred into compassion; your pride into humility. And you must have hope, and do not despair
"For the strength I give you is this alone: the strength to avoid hatred, anger, and pride. To defy your enemies without hatred, even to your dying breath. To be merciful, even when you kill. To fight your pride, though the battle be life-long. And above all else, to have hope when all hope is lost.
"And if you fail me, then I will cast you down
"But do not despair. If you do this, and serve me loyally and faithfully, then I will give you my blessing, and you will be my paladin. And have hope while you yet live, for I am Hope, and Rebirth, and while you still hope I am with you.
"So speak now, Sir Merriya de Blackmere, and speak truly. Will you accept this burden and this gift, and be my champion?
"Your champion?" Merriya whispered faintly, as tears flowed freely across her cheeks. "Lady, I am not worthy of such an honor, but..." Merriya swallowed, trying to catch her breath, "If it is your wish, how can I refuse?"
"So be it." Heddith lifted Merriya's face and kissed her slowly, gently, on the lips. "Then take my blessing. You are my child."
The kiss spun Merriya's ragged consciousness into a swirl of images, down, down into darkness.
Merriya awoke with a start. For a moment she was confused and disoriented. Taking a deep breath, Merriya calmed herself. Her memory of the night's experiences was no longer clear, but it was enough. She had a purpose now, she had found her true calling, and as long as she proved herself worthy, she could fight even the likes of Ginhalyn with some hope of success
Rising, Merriya looked down at herself with surprise. Gone was her ragged garments torn by running through the forest. She wore a new shirt and hose; clean, fresh smelling and white as the clouds. A thick garland of spring flowers encircled her neck, and more were tucked into the dark tresses of her hair.
Merriya heard a rustling sound in the bushes and turned to face it. Usdulf's familiar face poked out of the bushes, holding a loaded crossbow. He glanced at her and around the glade, then stepped out of the bushes and lowered the crossbow. His eyebrows shot up as he saw her new clothing
Merriya tried to speak, to greet Usdulf and wish him a good day, but she found that the words needed to describe the past night's events would not come. After several abortive attempts to speak, which Merriya realized made her sound like some witless fool, she fell silent, content to simply stand in the warmth of the newly risen sun, her hands tightly clasped together before her
Usdulf's eyebrows remained raised. "Running through the woods to find new clothing and flowers? I've seen humans do some passing strange things, but this is a new one."
"I..." Merriya stopped and shook her head, smiling, "Usdulf, your frankness never ceases to surprise me."
Usdulf looked around the clearing again, then back at Merriya. His eyes lifted again to the flowers, blooming out of season, in her dark hair. After another long pause, he spoke gruffly, not looking directly at her
"Are you all right?"
"Yes... Master Usdulf, I feel that I have never been better."
Usdulf nodded warily, as if the response was about what he expected, but he was none too pleased with it regardless. "Then let us return to camp, before the elves go off and do something irresponsible."
With a laugh, Merriya nodded in return, "Lead on then, Master Usdulf, for I fear I have no idea where we are."
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