Heartchild (Kirin)
This is a part of story for LT started by Marissa's player.
To defend: this is the pact. But when life loses its meaning and is taken for naught, then the pact is to avenge! Heavy Metal
Anger. Rage. Kirin could only hold them in so long. She promised herself when the first of her daughters was slaughtered to never again allow it. To never again let anything or anyone to take the life of her child. She had not spoken of the girl in many years before she had come to Shadokhan. The faery would not speak her name; to do so would bring the memories of a failure that she had never forgiven. Forgiving one’s self was always the hardest.
Kirin felt helpless as Marissa slipped into the arms of a monster that she could not fight. Not here, not in this place. The sanctuary of home was the only answer; there, there would be a fighting chance. Marissa’s life had been entrusted not just to Kirin as mother, but also to an entire family that had embraced her as sister, aunt, and cousin. If a way could be found, they would keep the beast called Death at bay.
Rissa’s body was wrapped in a warm blanket and loaded into the cart that had been used for marketing in the city. Her lifeless form needed to be taken through the portal in the Crosswinds. Diana would see to things beyond that gateway. Kirin and Phinn would remain to settle accounts.
Only a few hours before, the tavern had been the site of joy and revelry. Kirin had delighted in drinking Arnoc with the Gideonn brothers and Xiph the bard. It amused her to see Bliss herding the pair of brother out to a waiting carriage when the night was waning. Something about it told Kirin that Bliss was going to be a wonderful mother.
A slight change of mood should have warned the fey woman that something was on the wind. Ric’s displeasure was clear when an Elven woman had come through the portal. For Kirin this was good and bad. Good that he seemed to not see the faery as a horrible evil elf and bad that his mood had been tainted. After watching the woman a while, Kirin could understand why the sheep farmer had a tendency to automatically be antisocial toward Elven people. If she was the norm and those she knew were exceptions, it explained a great deal. Despite Xiph’s invitation to join him and what seemed to be a known acquaintance, at the very least, Kirin eventually departed the tavern.
A check of the commons revealed all had departed for the night. With the pathway clear, mother, sister, and friend carried Marissa through the tavern. On the other side, two brothers had been awaiting word. Their sister’s body was not what they had hoped for. Marissa was safely away from the evil that that had been stalking women in Dreven, but the work had just begun for her mother.
Just outside the Crosswinds, a keening arose that could have put a banshee’s wail to shame; it shattered the silence of the night. No greater pain existed than what Kirin suffered. No grief was greater than that which was brought by the loss of a child.