Oktoberfest Fic
Title: Devils in the Graveyard
Author: Fey
Beta: Emi! <3
Word Count: 1,490
Rating: PG-13
Character(s): The Failtastic Four! otherwise known as Valyn, Shadow, Keman and Shana.
Pairing(s): N/A
Summary: The strange powers and torments of the institute have a way of dredging up old fears and restless ghosts. In this place, even superstitions have the potential to become nightmarish realities...
Notes: Thanks to chocomimi, ranchangrnl and chaneystarr for letting me play with their characters for this! All elements of religion expressed in this fic are completely made up by me, and inspired by Etruscan mythology.
A clearing filled with tumbled and broken stone edifices shined in the light of the moon like a beacon in the darkness. Stumbling, out of breath, a small, ragged party of escapees came to rest among the fallen stones.
“I think…it’s stopped chasing us.” Keman was on his knees, panting, looking over his shoulder. No noises came from the woods. All was quiet in the little sanctuary, ringed by towering trees.
“Are you sure?” Shana was sitting, her back against a stone, hands on her knees. Her long red hair was teased and tangled by the wind.
“Pretty sure.” Keman frowned, almost thoughtfully, peering into the darkness. “I’m sure,” he added.
“Thank the ancestors.” Valyn was still standing, but doubled over, hands on his thighs. He looked less like an Elven Lord now than he ever had, even soaking wet in the woods.
“Now what?” Shadow was the only one still upright, hand on his head to wipe the heavy forelock of dark hair out of his eyes.
No one seemed to have an answer. But Shana eventually got to her feet, as Valyn sat, his legs finally giving out on him. Whatever had caught their scent in the woods, whatever great beast had tried to make a meal of them, it was gone now. Maybe after some slower, easier prey.
They hadn’t even gotten a good look at it. Just teeth and claws in the pale moonlight, and a sense of something large.
“What is this place, anyway?” Shadow went on, eyes moving over the underbrush and ruined rock.
“A graveyard,” Shana replied, and Keman nodded. Close inspection revealed the stone edifices to be tombstones and grave markers, weathered and derelict. Now, without the threat of bloody death, small details were noted. The crumbled fence around the clearing. The dead flowers, brittle and dried, laying in front of stones.
“We can’t stay here.” Valyn was back on his feet with surprising speed. His face, once impassive and unreadable, now more expressive, showed a hint of distress.
“I’m not about to go rushing off into the woods again,” Shana protested. Shadow was looking between the young woman and the Elven Lord. Keman, half-paying attention, was inspecting tombstones.
“We can’t stay here,” Valyn repeated, now glancing around as though he expected something else to leap from between the old graves.
“We’re tired, we’re sore, and nothing is trying to eat us right now!” Shana pointed out. “We need to catch our breath.”
“Shana…”
“He doesn’t want to stay here because it’s a cemetery.” Keman’s voice carried easily on the still night air. His back was turned and he was on his heels, peering at the markings on a stone. “Elves don’t like cemeteries.”
Shana turned to her brother. Valyn looked down at the ground. Shadow kept his eyes on his cousin.
“It’s just a graveyard,” Shana finally said, shrugging. “The big toothy thing out there is a lot dangerous than a bunch of buried bones.”
Valyn said nothing. Keman stood up, brushing off his thin gray pants.
“You really should have read those books about elven religion,” he said, mildly.
“I didn’t think elves had religion,” Shana countered.
“We do.” Valyn finally spoke up again. “Most of it is regarded as old fashioned superstition these days, but it‘s still taught. And some still believe in it. And of course some things were never dismissed.”
“And graveyards are what? Bad luck?” Shana’s tone clearly said she held no stock in religion, elven or otherwise.
“No.” Keman picked up the explanation, as Valyn had lapsed into silence again. Shadow seemed too concerned with his cousin’s distress to add anything himself. “Elves believe that when you die - or when an elf dies, anyway - one of two things happen. Those who led good lives, successful lives, and died a natural death become…something like gods. And the ones who lived bad lives, or died through violent or tragic means…they become demons.”
“Ancestors above and demons below,” Shadow said, quietly.
“It’s actually really fascinating,” Keman went on. “And it makes a lot of sense, when you look at the history of our world. They do refer to themselves as Gods, in a lot of their history books. And human and even wizard texts from the first Wizard War and earlier mention elves as ’demons’. Probably because of the belief that dead elves become one or the other. And since elves wiped out any trace of the human‘s religions, all that was left was theirs. It could even explain why Elven Lords are called ‘Lords‘…”
“I still don’t get what this has to do with Valyn not wanting to hang around in a graveyard,” Shana said. She looked from Valyn to Shadow to Keman. Shana had never liked to be the last one to understand anything.
“Cemeteries are like…the entranceway to the afterlife. If there are any holes or trenches in the ground, it’s believed the demons can return to earth through them.”
Shana turned to Valyn, one eyebrow arched.
“Are you really afraid that some dead elven demon is going to claw its way out of the ground and eat you just because we happen to be in a field with a bunch of buried bones?”
“Around here…?” Shadow ventured, cautiously.
“He has a point,” Keman added, glancing around the cemetery again. “With everything that happens here, and everything we’ve already faced….” Was it really so strange to think that the dead could rise?
“Call it superstition if you will,” Valyn finally said, arms crossed, “but I don’t want to take the risk.” He turned away from the others, moving to the edge of the clearing of stones, standing as still as the statues that had once adorned gravesites.
Shana looked to Shadow, as though seeking some sort of further explanation. Valyn was not a terribly flightly or superstitious man. This behavior was unlike him.
“I think…there are some demons he’d rather not risk meeting,” Shadow answered, quietly. No one spoke for a few moments afterwards. The unspoken was there, hanging in the still air of the graveyard.
Lord Dyran. Killed by his own son’s hand. Shana looked down at the ground, almost as though sheepish. As though she felt she should have known, should have realized. After all, hadn’t Valyn confided in her his fears and regrets over killing his father?
The question seemed to settle between the three remaining. In this place, this world born of hellish nightmares, where the dead had been proven to walk among them, could even demons from some abysmal necropolis return to the land of the living?
Under the pale light of the moon, the wind eerily still and the forest eerily silent, it suddenly didn’t seem quite so ridiculous.
“Come on,” Shana finally said, shaking herself. “Let’s…keep moving. We’ve probably rested enough.”
The others nodded in agreement and joined Valyn at the edge of the clearing - the Elven Lord hadn’t moved.
“Time to move on,” Shadow said, clapping his cousin affectionately on the shoulder. Valyn nodded.
With one last glance back at the cemetery, the four moved into the woods once more. Behind them, the wind stirred and the underbrush quivered. As they passed into the line of trees a soft sound carried over the breeze, as though pieces of earth had begun to move….
Author: Fey
Beta: Emi! <3
Word Count: 1,490
Rating: PG-13
Character(s): The Failtastic Four! otherwise known as Valyn, Shadow, Keman and Shana.
Pairing(s): N/A
Summary: The strange powers and torments of the institute have a way of dredging up old fears and restless ghosts. In this place, even superstitions have the potential to become nightmarish realities...
Notes: Thanks to chocomimi, ranchangrnl and chaneystarr for letting me play with their characters for this! All elements of religion expressed in this fic are completely made up by me, and inspired by Etruscan mythology.
A clearing filled with tumbled and broken stone edifices shined in the light of the moon like a beacon in the darkness. Stumbling, out of breath, a small, ragged party of escapees came to rest among the fallen stones.
“I think…it’s stopped chasing us.” Keman was on his knees, panting, looking over his shoulder. No noises came from the woods. All was quiet in the little sanctuary, ringed by towering trees.
“Are you sure?” Shana was sitting, her back against a stone, hands on her knees. Her long red hair was teased and tangled by the wind.
“Pretty sure.” Keman frowned, almost thoughtfully, peering into the darkness. “I’m sure,” he added.
“Thank the ancestors.” Valyn was still standing, but doubled over, hands on his thighs. He looked less like an Elven Lord now than he ever had, even soaking wet in the woods.
“Now what?” Shadow was the only one still upright, hand on his head to wipe the heavy forelock of dark hair out of his eyes.
No one seemed to have an answer. But Shana eventually got to her feet, as Valyn sat, his legs finally giving out on him. Whatever had caught their scent in the woods, whatever great beast had tried to make a meal of them, it was gone now. Maybe after some slower, easier prey.
They hadn’t even gotten a good look at it. Just teeth and claws in the pale moonlight, and a sense of something large.
“What is this place, anyway?” Shadow went on, eyes moving over the underbrush and ruined rock.
“A graveyard,” Shana replied, and Keman nodded. Close inspection revealed the stone edifices to be tombstones and grave markers, weathered and derelict. Now, without the threat of bloody death, small details were noted. The crumbled fence around the clearing. The dead flowers, brittle and dried, laying in front of stones.
“We can’t stay here.” Valyn was back on his feet with surprising speed. His face, once impassive and unreadable, now more expressive, showed a hint of distress.
“I’m not about to go rushing off into the woods again,” Shana protested. Shadow was looking between the young woman and the Elven Lord. Keman, half-paying attention, was inspecting tombstones.
“We can’t stay here,” Valyn repeated, now glancing around as though he expected something else to leap from between the old graves.
“We’re tired, we’re sore, and nothing is trying to eat us right now!” Shana pointed out. “We need to catch our breath.”
“Shana…”
“He doesn’t want to stay here because it’s a cemetery.” Keman’s voice carried easily on the still night air. His back was turned and he was on his heels, peering at the markings on a stone. “Elves don’t like cemeteries.”
Shana turned to her brother. Valyn looked down at the ground. Shadow kept his eyes on his cousin.
“It’s just a graveyard,” Shana finally said, shrugging. “The big toothy thing out there is a lot dangerous than a bunch of buried bones.”
Valyn said nothing. Keman stood up, brushing off his thin gray pants.
“You really should have read those books about elven religion,” he said, mildly.
“I didn’t think elves had religion,” Shana countered.
“We do.” Valyn finally spoke up again. “Most of it is regarded as old fashioned superstition these days, but it‘s still taught. And some still believe in it. And of course some things were never dismissed.”
“And graveyards are what? Bad luck?” Shana’s tone clearly said she held no stock in religion, elven or otherwise.
“No.” Keman picked up the explanation, as Valyn had lapsed into silence again. Shadow seemed too concerned with his cousin’s distress to add anything himself. “Elves believe that when you die - or when an elf dies, anyway - one of two things happen. Those who led good lives, successful lives, and died a natural death become…something like gods. And the ones who lived bad lives, or died through violent or tragic means…they become demons.”
“Ancestors above and demons below,” Shadow said, quietly.
“It’s actually really fascinating,” Keman went on. “And it makes a lot of sense, when you look at the history of our world. They do refer to themselves as Gods, in a lot of their history books. And human and even wizard texts from the first Wizard War and earlier mention elves as ’demons’. Probably because of the belief that dead elves become one or the other. And since elves wiped out any trace of the human‘s religions, all that was left was theirs. It could even explain why Elven Lords are called ‘Lords‘…”
“I still don’t get what this has to do with Valyn not wanting to hang around in a graveyard,” Shana said. She looked from Valyn to Shadow to Keman. Shana had never liked to be the last one to understand anything.
“Cemeteries are like…the entranceway to the afterlife. If there are any holes or trenches in the ground, it’s believed the demons can return to earth through them.”
Shana turned to Valyn, one eyebrow arched.
“Are you really afraid that some dead elven demon is going to claw its way out of the ground and eat you just because we happen to be in a field with a bunch of buried bones?”
“Around here…?” Shadow ventured, cautiously.
“He has a point,” Keman added, glancing around the cemetery again. “With everything that happens here, and everything we’ve already faced….” Was it really so strange to think that the dead could rise?
“Call it superstition if you will,” Valyn finally said, arms crossed, “but I don’t want to take the risk.” He turned away from the others, moving to the edge of the clearing of stones, standing as still as the statues that had once adorned gravesites.
Shana looked to Shadow, as though seeking some sort of further explanation. Valyn was not a terribly flightly or superstitious man. This behavior was unlike him.
“I think…there are some demons he’d rather not risk meeting,” Shadow answered, quietly. No one spoke for a few moments afterwards. The unspoken was there, hanging in the still air of the graveyard.
Lord Dyran. Killed by his own son’s hand. Shana looked down at the ground, almost as though sheepish. As though she felt she should have known, should have realized. After all, hadn’t Valyn confided in her his fears and regrets over killing his father?
The question seemed to settle between the three remaining. In this place, this world born of hellish nightmares, where the dead had been proven to walk among them, could even demons from some abysmal necropolis return to the land of the living?
Under the pale light of the moon, the wind eerily still and the forest eerily silent, it suddenly didn’t seem quite so ridiculous.
“Come on,” Shana finally said, shaking herself. “Let’s…keep moving. We’ve probably rested enough.”
The others nodded in agreement and joined Valyn at the edge of the clearing - the Elven Lord hadn’t moved.
“Time to move on,” Shadow said, clapping his cousin affectionately on the shoulder. Valyn nodded.
With one last glance back at the cemetery, the four moved into the woods once more. Behind them, the wind stirred and the underbrush quivered. As they passed into the line of trees a soft sound carried over the breeze, as though pieces of earth had begun to move….