to take back what had been cast away (first fragment, the price of recollection)
Alright, so I'm back with another ficcu in the Larshen vein. This pairing is simply my Aveyond OTP, canon be damned. Anyway, this is the sequel of No Turning Back, and follows the 'Evil Rhen' scenario. Also, this is chaptered. Yes. Parts. Bits. I originally planned to write the whole thing first, post it in its entirety here in LJ while posting it bit by bit in Amaranthia. Alas, I was only able to write until the fourth chapter (and said fourth chapter is still unedited), and I've said that I'm going to post this in Amaranthia this week (er, actually last week. Argh). Honestly, I liked No Turning Back better (so far) - maybe because it's a one-shot. Be warned - this is another angst-fest. Enjoy, nevertheless.
Title: The Price of Recollection
Author: Smirksweetly/Aschenhimmel
Series: Games - Aveyond
Pairing: Rhen x Lars
Rating: PG
Summary: “Humanity comes with a price.”
First Fragment
She remembers.
It has been a long time ever since she drifted back into that distant haze she calls 'the past'.
She looks up, empty eyes leaving the suffering faces of the defeated, and blinks at the overcast sky. It is dark, like yesterday, like the so many days before this day, and it has been for the longest time. The sun never shines now - the Sun God has abandoned Aia to its fate.
The Sun God and the light; she wonders briefly. She has become ignorant of them, and conveniently so. She belongs to the darkness, to its infinite and velvety promises. Ahriman rewards her loyalty very well, and her power is without peer. And yet...
A bright light, white laced with gold, so bright she had to shield her eyes, the warmth caressing her skin-
"Mistress."
The gravel-rough voice of her demon-general calls her back to the present. Her blank stare settles upon him. Before her is a hideous creature of leathery skin and more teeth than is necessary, but he cowers before her strength and obeys her bidding. She could extinguish him with a simple flick of her wrist, and she merely keeps him alive because he has his uses. Every creature in this world was like him - afraid of her, and expendable.
"What is it?"
"All the villagers are now before you. What is your command, Mistress?"
She looks at them again. They are a miserable lot, these villagers, a collection of quivering, sniveling creatures standing before her. They mostly consist of the elderly, women and children - likely their men had been drafted into one of the armies that vainly resisted Ahriman's rule. Widows and orphans, she muses. None of those armies survived - she made sure that they were all slaughtered to the last man.
It is her policy. Three simple words.
"Kill them all."
She has seen this picture too many times, in too many variations, but it always started with those three words and ended in silence. Sometimes she participated, sometimes she didn't. This time she only watches, occasionally blinking, never actually seeing.
Nothing affects her now.
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A/N: It gets longer, I swear. I have a grim feeling that the fifth chapter (the one I'm working on) is going to be a monster. Reviews and comments will add another day to my lifespan. XD