Lest Darkness Fall: Magic's Price
Posted: 2005-04-29 10:30pm
((This is a story from the game that SirNitram and I met on. For a brief time, there was a series of posts based on an apocalyptic future where the demons and vampires of the game had taken over. Blackthorne and Teamhair Tahalshia were two of the surviving Lamia (Mages/Witches), trying to continue the fight alongside the remaining Supernaturals.
Words within >> << are telepathic communications.
Title and idea based upon a song "Magic's Price," based upon a story of the same name by Mercedes Lackey. The verse that sparked this post: ~As if the Forest had somehow bestirred itself that day/Had Vanyel with his dying breath commanded trees to slay?~ What better way for a Druid to die?))
Blackthorne cursed as his .40 automatic clicked, having fired the last round. The Dark One he was aiming at dropped anyway from the miniature lightning bolt hitting it in the face. Black glanced over to Teamhair and sent a thought her way. >>Nice shot.<<
She spared him a smile before scanning for more attackers. Seth's idea to attack a Vampire stronghold at night had backfired, cutting her and Black off from both their allies and safehouse. On the run, they were low on ammo and Magick both.
Blackthorne was running on stolen Magick himself, having discovered long ago how to drain an enemy's soul to boost his own powers. War was Hell, and you fought with whatever weapons you could find he told himself as he knelt beside the fallen Vamp to do it again.
>>Black, we need ta fin' shelter som'where. We canna stay oute in th' open.<< She knew she was saying the obvious, but this was only one of the two bands on their tail. She watched him worriedly as he laboriously rose to his feet. Even as she watched, he put the magic he'd just stolen to closing his wounds, but some were resisting. One of the Dark Ones in this group had had a watergun, the Supersoaker kind, filled with Blessed salt water. Black had realized the danger before she had, and had thrown himself in front of her. Now, his left arm was all but useless from the hit, the salt water acting like Holy water on a Vampire. Only once he was on his feet did she put her arm around him. He still had his pride. >>We're near th' Manor, love.<< Then she revised that. >>Weel.. where it was.... << Tahalshia Manor had vanished. Just ... disappeared off the face of the Earth.
He gave her a wink. >>A pity it's not still standing. Would be nice to see them try to fight their way inside.<< He started guiding their steps in that direction. >>Still, at least the Garden's still there. I would have been quite upset if my cache of surprises had disappeared.<<
>>S'prises?<< She was splitting her time between listening to him and watching for signs of the other group. Of course, if they'd gone invisible, there was no way to seen them, but they seemed unable to move very fast when hiding that way. That might help them. If they could get a couple minutes to rest, she could Heal her own wounds. None were as bad as Black's, due in part to him protecting her as much as he could.
>>More ammo, for one. Some explosives as well.<< He answered, slipping the last of two clips of ammo into his .40 before handing her the other. His twin babies, the silver-chased automatics were a little powerful for her, but when the salt water had forced him to drop the second she'd snagged it up and blown a hole through the Supersoaker. Through the Dark One holding it too. Nothing a blessed stake didn't cure, though. Again, he was proud of her. She was his best pupil as well as his deepest love.
>>I shou' hav' knowne ye'd be p'pared... << The smile on her face match the grin in her mental voice as they entered the Garden's outer gate. It spread out before them, a fancy English garden of flower beds and hedges. Paths wandered among the beds, and 3 stone walls marked the garden's boundaries. The fourth side opened to the large desolate dirt field where the Manor should have stood. The garden was grey and withered, deep in Winter's sleep. The only touches of green came from trailing ivy and holly hedges, and from the mistletoe high in the branches of the ancient oak near the garden's heart.
>>Aren't I always?<< He asked, leading her down the paths to that oak. Once, many years ago, he had stood under that oak and bound himself to Tevar'Chev, heart and soul, in a ceremony as old as Time. Their wedding day. The thought still gave him chills. But now things that could save their skins were hidden under the spreading roots of that ancient tree. He stopped at the trunk, looking carefully for one certain gap in the roots. >>Here we are.<<
There is an old saying 'You never hear the bullet that kills you.' That's because by the time the 'Bang' reaches you, the bullet's already hit. It was a burning fire driving into his lung, what was left of it, before he even knew the Dark One's had found them.
>>Black'Chev!!<<
He was once again proud to note that she started shooting back immediately, diving behind the large tree trunk for cover, despite her obvious fear and concern for him. He fell at the base of the oak, propping himself up against the trunk before taking deadly aim at one of the damn Leeches himself. >>I'll live, just make your shots count. We don't have time to dig for the ammo.<< But his body had other ideas, striking him with a fit of coughing, courtesy of the cancer eating away inside. No.. Not now..... Another bullet tore into him as he was helpless, coughing up blood.
This time, the ruined voice screeched out his name as she fired wildly at the Vampires. Each shot hit, but when the gun clicked empty, they were still standing. "Poor little rebels out of ammo?" one catcalled, causing the others to laugh. He seemed to be the leader. "Looks like the witches aren't so strong after all."
As much as he wanted to, Blackthorne couldn't get the breath to say the retort that came to mind, nor even wipe the punk's smirk away with a well-placed Shock bolt. Teamhair, on the other hand, had no such problems, reappearing around the tree surrounded by a swirling nimbus of pure Magick. Throwing her arms out, the Magickal cloud expanded, forming a wall of leaping flames between the Dark ones and themselves. Still gasping for breath, Black realized what had happened. As she'd done back before their daughter's birth, her anger had called up the residual magic from the generations of Tahalshia wizards that had lived and died here, and age had given her the control she'd lacked in her youth.
>>Black'Chev, can ye get ta yer s'prises? I dinna knowe howe lon' I can hol' this... << She dropped to her knees beside him, not asking the question she most wanted to. She could see he wasn't alright, could see the two bullet holes, and the flaming wall flared higher in response to her emotions. Which was very unfortunate for the Bat-formed Dark one that had tried to fly over it just then.
All his life Blackthorne had trained himself to see the Patterns in the world around him and use what he saw to his advantage. It was how he'd survived this long, using his ability to keep himself and those he cared about one step ahead of Death. But this was the darkest Pattern he'd ever seen. Both of them wounded, outnumbered, outgunned, and sunrise still an hour off. The Magick Teamhair was channeling would not last, either it or she would burn out long before morning chased the Dark Ones away, leaving behind any ghoul servants to finish the job. At least the Dark One's couldn't see through the fiery barrier well enough to shoot at them. But even as he thought that, one brainiac fired a submachine gun wildly at them, and clipped Teamhair's arm. As she spit out Irish curses in her hoarse, ruined whisper, the fires flickered and surged out another foot, scorching the shooter in response. He gave a half-smile, translating the curses within his head. He'd had a lot of exposure to them. Amazing how inventive she could be. Yet another reason why he loved this woman. Time to pull out the big gun.
>>I can't reach the cache, Tevar'Chev<< He wasn't lying to her. With his wounds, he couldn't reach into the hollow under the oak's roots where they were stashed. He'd made sure that only he or another person that could shift into something small could get back there. >>You'll have to shift to your smallest form to reach them.<<
>>I'd hav' ta drop th' flames.. we'd no' hav' time...<<
He held up the .40 in his good hand. >>I can hold them, Tevar'Chev.<< Again, not a lie. He could hold them off, and hopefully kill them, if his idea worked. Mother of Magic, Father of Sanity, please let it work.. for Tevar'Chev's sake. She hesitated, biting her lip, and that old habit of hers my his heart ache. >>Sunrise isn't for an hour, love. Kiss me and get the gorgeous behind moving. Everything's in the hole behind me.<<
A slight smile came to her lips at the order, and she leaned over, pressing her lips to his. He reached up, pulling her tight, kissing her deeply. A couple more Dark Ones were singed by the sudden flare-up from the flaming wall, which briefly became white-hot. She drew back slowly, a larger smile spreading across her face. >>When we ge' back, we'll be followin' up on tha' kiss.<< She closed her eyes to better concentrate on the spells she was about to cast, and thus didn't see Blackthorne's smile falter. One spell lead directly into the other as her body began to shrink down into the long, lean form of a ferret, her clothing magically absorbing into the fur. As she darted into the hole, the fiery barrier flickered and faded back into the ground she'd pulled it from.
"Looks like your Magic's run out, witch, along with your time."
"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?" Blackthorne retorted, scooting his body over to block the hole. >>Forgive me, Tevar'Chev. It's the only way I can save you. Kiss Jhelian and Edward for me.<< He felt her scratching frantically at his clothing, and leaned back against the oak's trunk, drawing on the Magick he himself had focused into the Garden over the years. >>Tevar'Chev, my love..., my wife.... You were the best Dream any man could ever wish for. Never forget what we had. Please.<< And as the Vampire's closed in, he triggered his Final Spell. >>Goodbye, my love.<<
Under the roots of the tree, Teamhair scratched at the opening, at Blackthorne's long coat, at the roots themselves, her mind silently screaming for him to let her out, not to do this, don't leave her alone. Suddenly, the oak tree groaned and creaked, as if struck by a strong wind, and outside she heard the screams start. She huddled against Blackthorne as the tree sounded like it was about to fall over, wondering what was happening.
The screams stopped.
The tree stood silent again.
But Blackthorne didn't move.
It took several minutes to weasel herself out of the hole, to find the vampires slaughtered. Clothing hung loosely, impaled on rose bushes that now formed a hedge around the oak, piles of ashes heaped underneath. A flapping noise drew her attention upwards, where a dress waved in the slight breeze, halfway down a branch 20 feet in the air. A ghoul lay half-buried under the holly and ivy, one trailing vine wrapped tightly around his throat. And then her gaze turned to her husband.
He leaned against the trunk, eyes closed, a slight satisfied smile on his lips, looking for all the world as if he was only napping. She returned to human, and shakily touched his face.. which was already growing cold. "No... Black'Chev..... " A bare whisper, emotions making the ruined voice harsher. "No..... " She leaned forward, kissing his lips, vainly hoping she was wrong, that it wasn't real, he was just sleeping.
A rustle from the rose hedge spun her around, fearing not all were dead. Instead, it was on of the bushes themselves moving, spouting buds that swelled and burst into blossoms of reddish-gold. Tev's Roses, he'd called that color, the exact shade of her hair before it started to grey. Through tears, she saw all the other bushes also bursting into full bloom, filling the predawn air with color and scent.
When Seth finally traced their trail, he found the every plant in the Garden in full blossom. Teamhair was still crying, her head pillowed on Blackthorne's chest, surrounded by roses of every color, their scent and beauty hiding the signs of his last victory.
Words within >> << are telepathic communications.
Title and idea based upon a song "Magic's Price," based upon a story of the same name by Mercedes Lackey. The verse that sparked this post: ~As if the Forest had somehow bestirred itself that day/Had Vanyel with his dying breath commanded trees to slay?~ What better way for a Druid to die?))
Blackthorne cursed as his .40 automatic clicked, having fired the last round. The Dark One he was aiming at dropped anyway from the miniature lightning bolt hitting it in the face. Black glanced over to Teamhair and sent a thought her way. >>Nice shot.<<
She spared him a smile before scanning for more attackers. Seth's idea to attack a Vampire stronghold at night had backfired, cutting her and Black off from both their allies and safehouse. On the run, they were low on ammo and Magick both.
Blackthorne was running on stolen Magick himself, having discovered long ago how to drain an enemy's soul to boost his own powers. War was Hell, and you fought with whatever weapons you could find he told himself as he knelt beside the fallen Vamp to do it again.
>>Black, we need ta fin' shelter som'where. We canna stay oute in th' open.<< She knew she was saying the obvious, but this was only one of the two bands on their tail. She watched him worriedly as he laboriously rose to his feet. Even as she watched, he put the magic he'd just stolen to closing his wounds, but some were resisting. One of the Dark Ones in this group had had a watergun, the Supersoaker kind, filled with Blessed salt water. Black had realized the danger before she had, and had thrown himself in front of her. Now, his left arm was all but useless from the hit, the salt water acting like Holy water on a Vampire. Only once he was on his feet did she put her arm around him. He still had his pride. >>We're near th' Manor, love.<< Then she revised that. >>Weel.. where it was.... << Tahalshia Manor had vanished. Just ... disappeared off the face of the Earth.
He gave her a wink. >>A pity it's not still standing. Would be nice to see them try to fight their way inside.<< He started guiding their steps in that direction. >>Still, at least the Garden's still there. I would have been quite upset if my cache of surprises had disappeared.<<
>>S'prises?<< She was splitting her time between listening to him and watching for signs of the other group. Of course, if they'd gone invisible, there was no way to seen them, but they seemed unable to move very fast when hiding that way. That might help them. If they could get a couple minutes to rest, she could Heal her own wounds. None were as bad as Black's, due in part to him protecting her as much as he could.
>>More ammo, for one. Some explosives as well.<< He answered, slipping the last of two clips of ammo into his .40 before handing her the other. His twin babies, the silver-chased automatics were a little powerful for her, but when the salt water had forced him to drop the second she'd snagged it up and blown a hole through the Supersoaker. Through the Dark One holding it too. Nothing a blessed stake didn't cure, though. Again, he was proud of her. She was his best pupil as well as his deepest love.
>>I shou' hav' knowne ye'd be p'pared... << The smile on her face match the grin in her mental voice as they entered the Garden's outer gate. It spread out before them, a fancy English garden of flower beds and hedges. Paths wandered among the beds, and 3 stone walls marked the garden's boundaries. The fourth side opened to the large desolate dirt field where the Manor should have stood. The garden was grey and withered, deep in Winter's sleep. The only touches of green came from trailing ivy and holly hedges, and from the mistletoe high in the branches of the ancient oak near the garden's heart.
>>Aren't I always?<< He asked, leading her down the paths to that oak. Once, many years ago, he had stood under that oak and bound himself to Tevar'Chev, heart and soul, in a ceremony as old as Time. Their wedding day. The thought still gave him chills. But now things that could save their skins were hidden under the spreading roots of that ancient tree. He stopped at the trunk, looking carefully for one certain gap in the roots. >>Here we are.<<
There is an old saying 'You never hear the bullet that kills you.' That's because by the time the 'Bang' reaches you, the bullet's already hit. It was a burning fire driving into his lung, what was left of it, before he even knew the Dark One's had found them.
>>Black'Chev!!<<
He was once again proud to note that she started shooting back immediately, diving behind the large tree trunk for cover, despite her obvious fear and concern for him. He fell at the base of the oak, propping himself up against the trunk before taking deadly aim at one of the damn Leeches himself. >>I'll live, just make your shots count. We don't have time to dig for the ammo.<< But his body had other ideas, striking him with a fit of coughing, courtesy of the cancer eating away inside. No.. Not now..... Another bullet tore into him as he was helpless, coughing up blood.
This time, the ruined voice screeched out his name as she fired wildly at the Vampires. Each shot hit, but when the gun clicked empty, they were still standing. "Poor little rebels out of ammo?" one catcalled, causing the others to laugh. He seemed to be the leader. "Looks like the witches aren't so strong after all."
As much as he wanted to, Blackthorne couldn't get the breath to say the retort that came to mind, nor even wipe the punk's smirk away with a well-placed Shock bolt. Teamhair, on the other hand, had no such problems, reappearing around the tree surrounded by a swirling nimbus of pure Magick. Throwing her arms out, the Magickal cloud expanded, forming a wall of leaping flames between the Dark ones and themselves. Still gasping for breath, Black realized what had happened. As she'd done back before their daughter's birth, her anger had called up the residual magic from the generations of Tahalshia wizards that had lived and died here, and age had given her the control she'd lacked in her youth.
>>Black'Chev, can ye get ta yer s'prises? I dinna knowe howe lon' I can hol' this... << She dropped to her knees beside him, not asking the question she most wanted to. She could see he wasn't alright, could see the two bullet holes, and the flaming wall flared higher in response to her emotions. Which was very unfortunate for the Bat-formed Dark one that had tried to fly over it just then.
All his life Blackthorne had trained himself to see the Patterns in the world around him and use what he saw to his advantage. It was how he'd survived this long, using his ability to keep himself and those he cared about one step ahead of Death. But this was the darkest Pattern he'd ever seen. Both of them wounded, outnumbered, outgunned, and sunrise still an hour off. The Magick Teamhair was channeling would not last, either it or she would burn out long before morning chased the Dark Ones away, leaving behind any ghoul servants to finish the job. At least the Dark One's couldn't see through the fiery barrier well enough to shoot at them. But even as he thought that, one brainiac fired a submachine gun wildly at them, and clipped Teamhair's arm. As she spit out Irish curses in her hoarse, ruined whisper, the fires flickered and surged out another foot, scorching the shooter in response. He gave a half-smile, translating the curses within his head. He'd had a lot of exposure to them. Amazing how inventive she could be. Yet another reason why he loved this woman. Time to pull out the big gun.
>>I can't reach the cache, Tevar'Chev<< He wasn't lying to her. With his wounds, he couldn't reach into the hollow under the oak's roots where they were stashed. He'd made sure that only he or another person that could shift into something small could get back there. >>You'll have to shift to your smallest form to reach them.<<
>>I'd hav' ta drop th' flames.. we'd no' hav' time...<<
He held up the .40 in his good hand. >>I can hold them, Tevar'Chev.<< Again, not a lie. He could hold them off, and hopefully kill them, if his idea worked. Mother of Magic, Father of Sanity, please let it work.. for Tevar'Chev's sake. She hesitated, biting her lip, and that old habit of hers my his heart ache. >>Sunrise isn't for an hour, love. Kiss me and get the gorgeous behind moving. Everything's in the hole behind me.<<
A slight smile came to her lips at the order, and she leaned over, pressing her lips to his. He reached up, pulling her tight, kissing her deeply. A couple more Dark Ones were singed by the sudden flare-up from the flaming wall, which briefly became white-hot. She drew back slowly, a larger smile spreading across her face. >>When we ge' back, we'll be followin' up on tha' kiss.<< She closed her eyes to better concentrate on the spells she was about to cast, and thus didn't see Blackthorne's smile falter. One spell lead directly into the other as her body began to shrink down into the long, lean form of a ferret, her clothing magically absorbing into the fur. As she darted into the hole, the fiery barrier flickered and faded back into the ground she'd pulled it from.
"Looks like your Magic's run out, witch, along with your time."
"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?" Blackthorne retorted, scooting his body over to block the hole. >>Forgive me, Tevar'Chev. It's the only way I can save you. Kiss Jhelian and Edward for me.<< He felt her scratching frantically at his clothing, and leaned back against the oak's trunk, drawing on the Magick he himself had focused into the Garden over the years. >>Tevar'Chev, my love..., my wife.... You were the best Dream any man could ever wish for. Never forget what we had. Please.<< And as the Vampire's closed in, he triggered his Final Spell. >>Goodbye, my love.<<
Under the roots of the tree, Teamhair scratched at the opening, at Blackthorne's long coat, at the roots themselves, her mind silently screaming for him to let her out, not to do this, don't leave her alone. Suddenly, the oak tree groaned and creaked, as if struck by a strong wind, and outside she heard the screams start. She huddled against Blackthorne as the tree sounded like it was about to fall over, wondering what was happening.
The screams stopped.
The tree stood silent again.
But Blackthorne didn't move.
It took several minutes to weasel herself out of the hole, to find the vampires slaughtered. Clothing hung loosely, impaled on rose bushes that now formed a hedge around the oak, piles of ashes heaped underneath. A flapping noise drew her attention upwards, where a dress waved in the slight breeze, halfway down a branch 20 feet in the air. A ghoul lay half-buried under the holly and ivy, one trailing vine wrapped tightly around his throat. And then her gaze turned to her husband.
He leaned against the trunk, eyes closed, a slight satisfied smile on his lips, looking for all the world as if he was only napping. She returned to human, and shakily touched his face.. which was already growing cold. "No... Black'Chev..... " A bare whisper, emotions making the ruined voice harsher. "No..... " She leaned forward, kissing his lips, vainly hoping she was wrong, that it wasn't real, he was just sleeping.
A rustle from the rose hedge spun her around, fearing not all were dead. Instead, it was on of the bushes themselves moving, spouting buds that swelled and burst into blossoms of reddish-gold. Tev's Roses, he'd called that color, the exact shade of her hair before it started to grey. Through tears, she saw all the other bushes also bursting into full bloom, filling the predawn air with color and scent.
When Seth finally traced their trail, he found the every plant in the Garden in full blossom. Teamhair was still crying, her head pillowed on Blackthorne's chest, surrounded by roses of every color, their scent and beauty hiding the signs of his last victory.
