[Story] Linthara - Chained Light
Machines clicked whirred, fluids traveled along tubes and pipes let out a light film of steam from it’s vents. Chittering silithids’ crawled along the edge of the table and machines with no direction other then to watch and guard. Upon the table laid the most recent prisoner of the Forgotten, shackled and sedated to keep her from harnessing the light. Already once she took them by surprise, the Sin’dorei’s cunning was not to be taken lightly. Once already has she broken her detainment and slaughtered the silithid that came closer. She was not to have another chance at attacking. So swore the master and sovereign, who still had need for her among the living.
Linthara Illu’noir strained against the sedation but fatigue and the amount of sedatives injected into her was effective to say the least. Even now she could hear the subtle clinking of metals against one another, the skittering sounds of the insects that the beast known as the Apophan favored within this lair. He had taken from her, spirit, power, flesh. Mainly flesh, the rage within her had not died down from this assault against her. What was stolen from she had long since swore would belong to her and the consort of her choosing. To be robbed of the potential life that could grow inside of her only fueled her rage towards her captor and situation.
Her head turned slightly to one side and squinted into the dimly lighted area. Already shadows from her mind played tricks upon her as she could have sworn she saw someone other then the cult. No, she was wrong. She was alone here in the room save only for the silithid. No one had found her yet, not her military battalion, not her sister, nor her children or husband.
Vayren.
Light how she wished him to have reached here to get her out. She had seen the man at his best and worse. His anger when protecting those he cared for was impressive, even more so due to the control he kept not to fall too heavily into the consuming rage. Her heart ached slightly as her memories flooded back to the time she was held captive by her fellow Sin’dorei, a time when her heart was for another and his lack of being there for her broke it all the same. Her head slightly shook wondering why those thoughts returned.
‘Is this what people experience before death? Am I truly going to die here? No. NO! I refuse to die here. I will be free!’ her mind screamed against itself though her body too numb to move. Her fingers twitched and flexed slightly in response to her will. She refused to allow that to break under this stress, some how in this den of hell she would survive to see the light of a new tomorrow. She had to, for their sake.
The blood gem nestled against her chest grew warm. Even in her state she could sense the worry and concern of her loved ones. Her eyes closed briefly as she eternally thank the pact she made with Shorok that day to connect her with them. Knowing that she could alt least give and receive their warmth in these times was a blessing, not even her captors would know. Her arm tugged against the restraint slightly out of reflex more so then anything else. The weight of helplessness sunk in slowly, bitterly she rejected the notion that it was over for her. Even with the sounds of heavy footsteps coming closer.
The Lord of this lair returned. So began another session of torment and pain.
Though it never came. Despite the horrors he had inflicted upon others this time had been different. He was almost, kind? No not kind. This was the worst form of torment, he acted as if he was interested. That was never good. A strange calm entered her mind, she spoke back with him, calm collect, yet still the defiant noble qualities of a Blood Elf remained strong. When brought before the cult she was ordered to kneel. And only did so when the very hair was choked from her throat. They jeered then but in her mind she had an upper hand, her pride as a Paladin. A faith in the light and in the beings that once stated,
‘the light does not abandon it’s champions.’
She never thought of her self as a Champion, as someone of high worth in society. She was merely a soldier fighting for what she felt was the good fight, protecting the sanctuaries that others made and called home. To aid in preventing further loss of where people called that ‘home’. Linthara had been one to have lost everything, a lover, brothers, sisters, her whole life and family gone/ Gone, save for a sister who still had husband and children, she too lost family but protected the ones she could. Linthara was left off far worse then Faitima, they both knew it. But the experience made her stronger, even now staring over into the very hive of the cultists most vile hive of silithids.
Survival that is what mattered most of all. She had to bide her time play to the whims of the enemies but keep her mind and head her own. Escape seemed so narrow, the shackles replaced and tighten against the metallic table. Again he would steal from her, yet this time her rage was lessen. It was a strange feeling for her not to scream as she had before. But her rage wasted what strength she had. It burnt up energy and will power. Both of which the Sin'dorei realized she needed if she where to attempt a second escape. The conversation had continued to a point, he asked about her scar.
She had no excuse to hide it.
The beast offered to 'heal' her to which she scoffed at the idea. To accept any 'help' from him when she had no need for it was disturbing enough as it was. Thoughts danced across her mind as to why he would even offer such a thing. An abomination willing to give 'life' to one who protected 'life' and was it's shield. Linthara felt the irony of the statement and laughed it away. This 'help' she would never accept. Even now as she laid there alone once more in the dimly lit room, she could see flickers of shadows at the edges of her mind.
Linthara Illu’noir strained against the sedation but fatigue and the amount of sedatives injected into her was effective to say the least. Even now she could hear the subtle clinking of metals against one another, the skittering sounds of the insects that the beast known as the Apophan favored within this lair. He had taken from her, spirit, power, flesh. Mainly flesh, the rage within her had not died down from this assault against her. What was stolen from she had long since swore would belong to her and the consort of her choosing. To be robbed of the potential life that could grow inside of her only fueled her rage towards her captor and situation.
Her head turned slightly to one side and squinted into the dimly lighted area. Already shadows from her mind played tricks upon her as she could have sworn she saw someone other then the cult. No, she was wrong. She was alone here in the room save only for the silithid. No one had found her yet, not her military battalion, not her sister, nor her children or husband.
Vayren.
Light how she wished him to have reached here to get her out. She had seen the man at his best and worse. His anger when protecting those he cared for was impressive, even more so due to the control he kept not to fall too heavily into the consuming rage. Her heart ached slightly as her memories flooded back to the time she was held captive by her fellow Sin’dorei, a time when her heart was for another and his lack of being there for her broke it all the same. Her head slightly shook wondering why those thoughts returned.
‘Is this what people experience before death? Am I truly going to die here? No. NO! I refuse to die here. I will be free!’ her mind screamed against itself though her body too numb to move. Her fingers twitched and flexed slightly in response to her will. She refused to allow that to break under this stress, some how in this den of hell she would survive to see the light of a new tomorrow. She had to, for their sake.
The blood gem nestled against her chest grew warm. Even in her state she could sense the worry and concern of her loved ones. Her eyes closed briefly as she eternally thank the pact she made with Shorok that day to connect her with them. Knowing that she could alt least give and receive their warmth in these times was a blessing, not even her captors would know. Her arm tugged against the restraint slightly out of reflex more so then anything else. The weight of helplessness sunk in slowly, bitterly she rejected the notion that it was over for her. Even with the sounds of heavy footsteps coming closer.
The Lord of this lair returned. So began another session of torment and pain.
Though it never came. Despite the horrors he had inflicted upon others this time had been different. He was almost, kind? No not kind. This was the worst form of torment, he acted as if he was interested. That was never good. A strange calm entered her mind, she spoke back with him, calm collect, yet still the defiant noble qualities of a Blood Elf remained strong. When brought before the cult she was ordered to kneel. And only did so when the very hair was choked from her throat. They jeered then but in her mind she had an upper hand, her pride as a Paladin. A faith in the light and in the beings that once stated,
‘the light does not abandon it’s champions.’
She never thought of her self as a Champion, as someone of high worth in society. She was merely a soldier fighting for what she felt was the good fight, protecting the sanctuaries that others made and called home. To aid in preventing further loss of where people called that ‘home’. Linthara had been one to have lost everything, a lover, brothers, sisters, her whole life and family gone/ Gone, save for a sister who still had husband and children, she too lost family but protected the ones she could. Linthara was left off far worse then Faitima, they both knew it. But the experience made her stronger, even now staring over into the very hive of the cultists most vile hive of silithids.
Survival that is what mattered most of all. She had to bide her time play to the whims of the enemies but keep her mind and head her own. Escape seemed so narrow, the shackles replaced and tighten against the metallic table. Again he would steal from her, yet this time her rage was lessen. It was a strange feeling for her not to scream as she had before. But her rage wasted what strength she had. It burnt up energy and will power. Both of which the Sin'dorei realized she needed if she where to attempt a second escape. The conversation had continued to a point, he asked about her scar.
She had no excuse to hide it.
The beast offered to 'heal' her to which she scoffed at the idea. To accept any 'help' from him when she had no need for it was disturbing enough as it was. Thoughts danced across her mind as to why he would even offer such a thing. An abomination willing to give 'life' to one who protected 'life' and was it's shield. Linthara felt the irony of the statement and laughed it away. This 'help' she would never accept. Even now as she laid there alone once more in the dimly lit room, she could see flickers of shadows at the edges of her mind.