<div class="bbCodeSpoiler">
<button class="bbCodeSpoiler-button button" data-xf-click="toggle" data-xf-init="tooltip" title="Click to reveal or hide spoiler" type="button"><span class="button-text">
<span>Spoiler</span>
</span></button>
<div class="bbCodeSpoiler-content">
<div class="bbCodeBlock bbCodeBlock--spoiler">
<div class="bbCodeBlock-content"><a class="link link--internal" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=http%3A%2F%2Fblackdahliaroleplaying.com%2Findex.php%3Fthreads%2Ffrosts-fellows.583%2F%23post-10497&amp;hash=6f829dbef4c4fe8cb15b640c5a6deb81" href="http://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/index.php?threads/frosts-fellows.583/#post-10497">Sivan</a></div>
</div>
</div>
</div><br/>Solitude was difficult to come by these days. Granted, being alone in times such as these, hours where moments were fleeting and human connection seemed the only balm left to the remnants of mankind, being alone was not something actively sought by most. Sivan, though, reveled in the rare seconds of silence granted to him as he wandered a stretch of barren landscape, the once lush forests of Ederas where he'd hunted small game years ago in another world, in a dream that couldn't possibly have been reality compared to the gnarled, skeletal limbs and vacant canopies he'd grown accustomed to. Seasons were a thing of the past, fading into legend alongside laughter. The sun had been blotted out by an unnatural blanket of darkness, suffocating every last leaf and blade of greenery. The blight cursed upon land and sea alike had eradicated all signs of wildlife, spreading like a plague and laying waste to plants and animals indiscriminately. And Sivan found that he missed the sweet songs of birds more than he'd ever thought he might.<br/><br/>He didn't know why he bothered with the bow slung over his shoulders, resting atop the dark cloak he wore to stave off the chill of a sunless sky. As if he'd kill any innocent creature he stumbled upon, anyways. Any beast that had survived this long in the wastes of a world void of life deserved to be spared. No matter how his belly might berate him for passing up a meal. In addition, Sivan's arrows would be useless against any plagued monstrosities he happened across, legions of macabre creations stitched together from disturbing materials, the bodies of fallen soldiers, their mounts and whatever unfortunate beings to fall the Sorcerer's armies.<br/><br/>Sivan wouldn't put up much of a fight, anyways. Sure, he'd go through the autonomic motions of self-defense, the obligatory attempt at survival that he owed his species, but there wasn't a soul left in this Hell who didn't rise each morning hoping for a swift end.<br/><br/>He only carried the bow out of habit, in all honesty. It had become a part of him years ago. Lids fell over his russet gaze as he stood, alone for the first time in weeks. Truly, mercifully alone, his mind blessedly empty aside from the calming ease of his own breaths. Sivan craved these moments, cherished every last second of silence, his own personal refuge from the constant, overwhelming torrent of fear and agony that assaulted him from those who surrounded him every second of his being. As an Empath, he felt their hunger, their hopelessness. He'd died a thousand times and experienced the uncertainty that went with it. But also, the peace. It was selfish, he knew, but some days . . .<br/><br/>Some days Sivan wished they would all just give in, so he could feel nothing.<br/><br/>--------<br/><br/>He dreaded his return to the outpost he'd called home for the past three weeks, a vast rabble of tents and refugees, elderly and children, milling about trying to make themselves useful in any way possible. Everyone else, those trained in combat and civilian alike, had been sent to the front. This was a war for humanity, it's soldiers unwittingly drafted at the minute of birth into a battle for survival. Sivan, however, was not allowed on the front lines, not anymore. He'd done his fair share, of course, loosed arrows until his fingers bled as he stood behind a growing wall of corpse shields, but active battle was far too intense for someone with his gift. He'd lost himself, in the beginning, gone catatonic from the waves of agony rolling off of his fellow man. Few Empaths remained, he knew, most lost to whatever foul ends offered to them by the enemy's ranks, others taking their own lives simply to escape.<br/><br/>Actually, he hadn't met another like himself in years.<br/><br/>And so he'd been commanded to put his abilities to use in the healing tents, something he was much better suited to. As he neared camp, Sivan became aware of each consciousness within the range of his gift, like lighting a torch one by one. His Magic's strength had once been something the redhead had prided himself in. Now his ability was only a curse and he would sacrifice anything just to dull his senses enough to gain a proper sleep. As he passed a paddock filled with gaunt hounds the size of cattle, Sivan lowered his hood, unveiling an auburn shadow that he hadn't been bothered to trim in days. He'd had his own hound, once upon a time, but the poor dam had been old at the start and he'd lost her to famine. Perhaps she'd been lucky, he decided, as he eyed the mangled limb of a sallow-eyed canine tethered inside as if expected to wander off. The creature could barely stand and, most likely, would feed them tonight.<br/><br/>Alexa greeted him with a nod as he ducked into the tent, the largest at the outpost and filled wall to wall with three rows of beds, most empty in this moment, but only because Kassandr's creations were more adept at killing than wounding. He offered the thin woman a false smile, but that's all anyone really got from him these days. He could feel that she was worried, most likely about the patient currently writhing beneath her steady hand. And slightly miffed at Sivan for leaving her alone with the injured during his quest for solitude, but he knew she understood his need to be alone. Watching the woman cauterize a flayed thigh with her Magic of fire, he approached the man on the stretcher, placed his palm upon a clammy forehead, and forced his own calm into him. "Easy. She'll take good care of you." The soldier stopped moving, eyes drifting shut and relaxed just long enough for Alexa to finish her work. Her gift was too weak for combat, the flames small, but precise, which made her perfect as a healer. "Thank you," the brunette sighed and wiped at her brow as she proceeded to bandage the newly-sealed wound.<br/><br/>Sivan opened his mouth to apologize for wandering off, tossing his cloak and bow to the side revealing the dark tunic and leathers he wore beneath, but before he could give voice to his words, a young boy burst into the tent. "'nother wagon for the infirm'ry, Sirs! Errr, m'lady." Sivan and Alexa shared a look that spoke volumes of how little rest they would get this evening, but it was their responsibility to save as many as possible. '<i>To send them to die another day</i>,' the cynical thought crossed him mind. However, as the redhead followed the woman outside, he knew immediately that something wasn't right. He always knew when wagons approached, should have felt the arrival and onslaught of suffering that always came with the heaps of wounded. He stopped at the threshold, watching as Alexa and a few elderly moved to begin unloading their new patients. "No, wait! There's nothing . . . "<br/><br/>He'd already pieced it together, but not quickly enough as he watched the expression of horror bloom across the faces of those who had stepped forward to assist with the living.<br/><br/>There were no living on this wagon, only dead.<br/><br/>--------<br/><br/>It was best to dispose of the bodies with fire, to keep them from being reanimated and bolstering the ranks of Kassandr's monstrous armies. However, as food had grown scarce, nothing went to waste. Absolutely nothing. They hadn't had to resort to cannibalism. Yet. But the hounds had to eat something. Disgusted, even though he understood the practicality, Sivan refused to help with the bodies. Instead, he'd busied himself passing food and drink to those still alive, granted if they continued to subsist off of thin broths and polluted water, his patients would never regain their strength. As he lifted the head of young dark-haired man, forcing him to sip even though he could feel his life draining, the tent rustled and copper eyes looked up from his task to take in a face he'd never seen before. "Sivan Adenborn. My name is Gartin, of the Queen's guard." Siven lowered his patient's head back to the sweaty pillow in confusion.<br/><br/>"Queen's guard?" The queen had been dead for years.<br/><br/>"I swore an oath until death and I am not yet dead." The man seemed rather absolute in this fact, standing before the redhead in his tarnished armor and faded crest, so Sivan decided arguing that you couldn't guard a queen if there was no queen would be a futile endeavor.<br/><br/>"If you're in need of medical assistance, choose whichever bed suits your fancy and I'll see what I can do."<br/><br/>"I'm not sick, Boy." Boy? Sivan was thirty-two, thank you very much. Besides, the guard didn't look much older, not a grey hair in sight atop his golden head.<br/><br/>"Well if you're not sick, you're wasting my time," Sivan grumbled and continued about his business. Except his intuition told him this confused individual wanted something of him.<br/><br/>"I've been sent by the court to being you back to Steelwatch." Stated matter-of-factly, as if his words made perfect sense. To Sivan, they didn't. "And if you don't come willingly, I am to place you under arrest and bring you back, as it was my order not to return without an Empath in tow and you're the only one I've heard word of in all my months of searching. I've grown a bit tired of the road, so if you will . . . "<br/><br/>Sivan blinked, thinking perhaps this man actually was in need of medical attention, though mental illness had never been his forte. "Steelwatch is a dead city. There is no court left to speak of. There is no queen left for you to guard and I'm not going anywhere with someone so ill informed. Now leave me be."<br/><br/>The guard stepped forward then, a length of rope in his hands that Sivan did not like the look of. "Yes, the queen is dead, but I assure you Steelwatch is not completely lost, neither is the court. Now, come along so I can get back to . . . "<br/><br/>Sivan dropped his basin of questionable water and darted towards the exit, but the madman was faster than he looked despite having the arms and stature of an ape. Knocked flat on his ass, Sivan found himself bound and carried away like a sack of potatoes, thrown onto the back of large brindled hound and carted away like a prisoner.<br/><br/>And that's how he found himself, a fortnight later, riding into the abandoned crumbles of Steelwatch, his ass and thighs sore from the lack of stops. He'd grown to accept that perhaps someone had sent for him, after all, though was still convinced Gartin had lost his sanity. He couldn't blame him, really, in this world. He'd stopped resisting around day five, when the guard had actually offered him a stale loaf of bread. Actual<i>bread, </i>something Sivan hadn't seen in years. Curious, he needed to know what sort of sanctuary the food had come from.<br/><br/>The city was as dead as he'd expected. However, as they road upwards towards the old castle, Sivan began to notice a number of others dressed just like Gartin. Surely they couldn't all be misled psychopaths, for Sivan knew this man was no liar. Gartin believed without question that his words were truth, though didn't necessarily make them true. The great doors were opened to allow the hound and its riders inside, Sivan feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment emanating from the man seated before him, and curious thoughts of wonder from those awaiting his arrival.<br/><br/>Gartin dismounted and motioned him to follow, as if assuming he would. "Come, Boy. They've waited long enough for me to find you." He'd told the bastard not to call him that several times, but it had obviously done him no good. Not to mention, his head was filled with questions regarding the mysterious 'they' that Gartin had refused to answer his inquiries about for days on end.<br/><br/>He was lead into a room filled with dusty furniture, supposing all of the castle's service staff had likely expired, and his eyes immediately fell onto a platter of foods laid before him, cheeses and crackers, dried meats that he assumed wasn't dog. And was that wine? Without even taking a seat, Sivan helped himself, not worrying for a second of seeming rude or uncouth. Courtly mannerisms had always seemed frivolous, and after being literally dragged halfway across Ederas, the least these curs could do is offer him something for his troubles. He hadn't tasted wine in ages, besides.<br/><br/>It was strange, being here in a place where he could no longer feel the crippling depression of the front lines, almost as if he'd fallen into an alternate reality, a dream perhaps. Downing a thick swallow of cheese, he ceased his actions as a pair of robed figures strode into the room, excitement and joy, almost forgotten emotions to Sivan, following close behind. He, however, did not release his glass of wine.<br/><br/>Both men were old, ancient really, and Sivan's eyes widened as he recognized the golden chains draped over their robes, the chains that signified these men as elders of the crown, highly-esteemed scholars and the most talented of the magically gifted. One of them strode forward, ogling his red hair in fascination and taking Sivan's left hand in an awkward shake as his right was still occupied by the glass of wine. "At last. Gartin, we'd begun to wonder if there were any left!" Gartin nodded behind him, affirming that he, too, had begun to think the same. It was surreal, to Sivan, as if he were a rare animal on display. "Excuse me, it's a pleasure, but . . . can I ask why I'm here? Mr. Queen's Guard has refused to answer a damned thing and I've begun to wonder if I'm dreaming."<br/><br/>"Of course, of course! We've been waiting for you for a long time. Gartin could not tell you, I'm afraid, lest the two of you had been intercepted. Now, come. You have a destiny that must be fulfilled. We elders have done out part, and now it is your turn." Sivan downed the wine, even more confused than before, and followed.<br/><br/>He was lead downward, descending countless flights of stairs, deep into what he assumed were the catacombs of the castle. His boots splashed in an inch of water, crystal clear, he noted, and anger came over him as he thought of the hundreds dying daily from illness and dehydration. The door before him was heavily guarded, and the redhead's mouth fell open as he caught a glimpse of what lay beyond.<br/><br/>A whirling mass of energies, purples and blues, spun before them. "This is a temporal portal, the only one left standing in all of Ederas." he was told, as if that would explain everything. "After five years of research, and much sacrifice, the elders have come together and opened it, at last! Just look, isn't it magnificent?" Sivan could feel the wizard's pride, his true fascination filling the catacombs just as his voice echoed about them. "As it was foretold, five of the seven lost their lives powering the portal, leaving only Janivus and myself to execute the rest of the prophecy, but you're here now and that's all that matters. A sacrifice for the greater good." Sivan didn't like where this was going, but anything must be better than his miserable existence at the outpost. "The prophecy states that an Empath will travel into the past and his actions there will put an end to Kassandr the Wicked. That is why finding you, Sivan, was paramount to the survival of mankind. You are the key to the sorcerer's demise. Don't you see? You must enter the portal, find Kassandr, and kill him."<br/><br/>"That's mighty presumptuous of you lot." He crossed his arms over is chest, trying to process this information and failing. "I stand no chance against a wizard of Kassandr's caliber. This is all nonsense." He felt doubt fill the room now, and disappointment.<br/><br/>"It may seem like nonsense to you now, just as it may seem that your odds of killing a man capable of countless atrocities are insurmountable, but you do no have a choice in this, I'm afraid. The prophecy must be fulfilled or else all of Ederas is doomed to fall to the sorcerer's knees. It is not a matter of what you believe you are capable of, only what you must do." The guards had begun to encircle Sivan, giving him the impression that he would not be allowed to refuse this insanity.<br/><br/>"Sending someone with magics as weak as an Empath's to kill a man as powerful as Kassandr is suicide. There is no hope that I will succeed and thus it's pointless to even send me through . . . "<br/><br/>"You are not being given a choice." Just as he hadn't been given a choice in coming here to begin with, it seemed. Regardless, as he was ushered forward, Sivan considered the advantages of this situation. He'd wanted to die for a very long time, now, to cease existence simply so he would no longer suffer the misery of those around him. And how many times had he wished beyond hope that he could go back to the way things had been before, back to a world where happiness still existed and he didn't have to acknowledge the snuffing of life every second of his consciousness. He even dreamed of death, couldn't catch a respite even in sleep. He jerked his arm away from the nearest guard and stepped forward, towards the intimidating promise of the unknown, but also the promise of peace, offered to him by the portal before his very eyes. He could enter, but who would be there to dictate he follow through with this . . . farce of a prophecy that involved him killing a dark sorcerer?<br/><br/>He could live out his years in the past, exist in a world without war, just as he'd longed for. The only thing left for him here in this time was death. "You're right. I'd be foolish not to take this." With a shrug, Sivan stepped through the pool of energy.<br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="25" data-username="@Nevermind" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/25/">@Nevermind</a>