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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [Auto-Quest] hello darkness, my old friend
    #1
    looking for heaven
    found the devil in me
    He knew he would die one day.

    Death was inevitable—even for his own immortal soul. The two—his power to control death and his life—were intertwined together. It was through mayhem and violence that fueled his power.

    The years were now diminishing away. The number of years he had collected—killed for—were depleting. Rodrik knew eventually the day would come where he would burn and turn into ashes. He would fade away like so many others have, like so many he knew.

    In the end, death would come for all of them.

    He does not regret it though.

    When the red devil looks back on his decision, the choice that altered his life, he does not feel shame. He had lived for too many decades. Too many years that he should not have lived. Too many memories and regrets that haunt him still—the violence and lives he had stolen.

    But he doesn’t regret the memory of meeting her.

    Brunhild—his other half, his entire life now.

    She had opened his heart, filling it with love and tenderness. Twisting and mending his black heart into something beautiful and new (something he never thought he was capable of). Opening his eyes to an entirely new world.

    It was with her that he learned he could feel something else for the first time—not just the chaos and thirst for blood. She showed him he was capable of more than the monster he had become. And that even the devil himself could love another.

    Her love was everything though. She was his sun, moon, and the air he breathed. She was a ray of sunshine on a rainy day, a hot summer breeze on a cold winter morning. Without Brunhild, his life would be nothing.

    Brunhild made his life beautiful in many ways. She gave him everything he ever needed (everything he knew he did not deserve). Her love was more than enough, but she gave him a family. A family filled with children he loved and would do anything for.

    He would do anything.

    Anything for them.

    ---

    “Finally!” The bay yearling, Falter, says with an overdramatic sigh as they reach the mountain top. “I thought we would never make it up here.”

    Rodrik, following just a few paces behind his bay daughter, lets out a soft chuckle. “I told you it wouldn’t be easy to get up here.” The trek up and down was not meant to be easy he had heard from another in passing.

    “Wow!” Falter says with astonishment. She had made her way over to the edge of the cliff but cautiously kept her distance. “Dad! Come and see this!”

    Rodrik with a curious smile makes his way to his daughter’s side, who is overlooking the large expanse of Beqanna below. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He says with a soft smile.

    Falter turns her gaze towards her father. She had inherited his eyes, the same nutmeg color, the same eyes that were curious of everything, saw the world in beautiful colors, and hunger for more. It was the same look he had in his own when he was an adolescent. “How come you and mom didn’t stay here?” The yearling asks because she has found everything in Beqanna to be wonderful (but naïve of the monsters and dangers it has held).

    The red devil’s smile fades softly at her question. Rodrik knows all too well of the monsters and dangers here—he wanted nothing to do with it anymore. After all, it was not even the same Beqanna he knew.

    His smile returns swiftly back though. “Your mother and I wanted to see the world.” Outside of Beqanna had been wonderful. There were more worlds beyond Beqanna—some were vastly different while others were filled with their own kind of magic. “I thought you might like to see where your mother and I came from.”

    Falter chimes back with a big grin. “I’m glad you did. I loved the trip so far!” Rodrik feels his heart fill with warmth and he nudges his daughter tenderly.

    “Now, we must speak to the fairies,” he says pulling away from the cliffside. Falter quickly follows at his side. “Will the fairies hurt us?” She asks curiously. Rodrik laughs softly at her naïve question. “No, I have heard they can be kind if your heart is true.” Falter considers her father's words, noting that it was something important to keep in mind like the many other lessons of life she has been told from her parents.

    The pair eventually reach the open glade of the mountaintop. Something draws Rodrik to a standstill here—perhaps it is the deep magic he can feel and the quiet howling of the wind up here. Falter follows the cues of her father and stops also, curiously flickering her ears forward. “Let me do the talking,” he whispers to her.

    Rodrik takes a step forward, glancing around, not sure where to start, but he just begins anyway. “I’ve come here to ask—no to beg—that I am ridden of this everlasting curse for bloodthirst. I am no longer the person I once was.” He was no longer the red devil that thirsted for blood. He yearned for a life full of happiness and peace now. This was the only way he could be ridden of it—the only way he knew how to. “Please,” he pleads, asking them to see his heart was true.

    His answer is met with silence.

    Only the howling of the wind fills his cry for help.

    “Please,” he begs again with tears filling his eyes.

    The wind howls again, but a sinister laugh in the distance answers his call. “Did you think I would forget about you?” The dark voice says in a ferocious roar as the sky darkens around them, thunder rumbling in the distance.

    “You had such promise in the beginning, such thirst and pride to become something. Was my gift not enough for you?” The dark voice asks, mulling over how weak and pathetic the red devil has become. “Aryeh was not enough, so I gave you his gift because you were worthy.”

    Rodrik pulls back instinctively, shielding Falter. Falter pulls close to her father, shivering with fear. He had not forgotten the voice. The sinister voice had never left him. It always whispered to him—reminded him his life was in debt. “I no longer want it,” he says firmly, “Take it back!”

    The dark voice laughs manically. “Take it back?” He asks because to him the thought is ridiculous. “It can only be given, but if you no longer want it then I will give it to someone else.”

    Shadowy clouds suddenly descend from the sky and begin to swirl and twist around them. Dark figures appear around them; their ghoul-like silhouettes light up from the flash of lightning that has moved over the mountaintop now.

    Falter screams out in fear as she feels herself being pulled away suddenly from her father’s side by the ghosts. “Dad!” She screams with desperation.

    “Noooo!” Rodrik yells with anger.

    “Falter!” He screams.

    His screams fade away, as the world darkens around her.

    “Dad!” Falter screams.

    She cries out for him, over and over, until she passes out from exhaustion.
    Rodrik
    image credit uribaani


    Word Count: 1,199
    Rodrik's necromancy has been transferred to his daughter, Falter.
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