[Original Fic] Lost, part 2/3
Title: Lost
Author: Silver_Lion23
Characters: Kha'leneth Aelorothi/Eledar Skymantle & Elona Silverspear
Rating/Warnings: PG, worksafe
Summary: Just coming back from adventuring in a dungeon, Elona encounters an old friend just shortly after losing one.
A/N: This story is based on two characters created through the D&D system. Elona is a priestess and Kha'leneth is a wizard. I do plan on making stories for both regarding their choice of paths.
Disclaimer: Any reference to anything D&D and Forgotten Realms isn't owned by me, but Wizards of the Coast/Hasbro, yada, yada... Both Kha'leneth and Elona are mine, however.
Once he was semi cleaned off, semi because blood and pus started to leak out, I grabbed a dagger to cut into his clothes. The smell was bad. I was surprised to feel no fever. Perhaps it wasn’t that bad after all.
…
I take those words back. I had to peel his clothes off once I tore them to shreds. I almost threw up seeing skin peeled off, revealing swollen, flaming-red open flesh, cuts and bruises all over, and even a hole in his side. Just how did he live?
Tears were gathering at my eyes, but I had to keep them from flowing. My vision blurred for a fraction of a second, but I could afford no distractions. I had to focus.
I wiped off the dagger that I used to cut his clothes, wiping the dirt that may have gotten on it. There was, surprisingly, a fireplace in the room. I thought that the idiots would of scammed Kha’leneth and given him a room with hardly anything but lice and roaches, taking his money. Maybe they figured someone would eventually have caught on with him in his catatonia.
I started a fire, placing a pot full of clear water on top. As soon as the water was ready, I took the pot and placed it near the bed. It was to be used to help clean the deeper infection.
The dagger, I took and plunged the blade in the fire, carefully allowing fingers of the fire to clean off the remaining germs. I had to cut Kha’leneth and open old wounds.
The arduous task took hours. Many times I was about to cry, especially when I saw that he did not react to the pain that I was inflicting him. I poured a few healing spells into him, to take care of the deeper wounds, the hole in his side especially. The hole was obviously created by a spear, and the burns were probably created by a spell, fireball the most prominent. I thanked the gods that he was still alive, and I prayed for his safe recovery.
The smaller wounds and the burns I bandaged. All and all he looked better by the time I was done with him. I retrieved cleaner water and began to wash out his hair, careful of the bandages that were on his face. A spell helped dry his hair. I didn’t want him to get sick on top of everything.
Once I was done, I laid out a blanket and placed him on it. The bed, everything had to be replaced from the dirt that he slept with earlier. I didn’t want to deal with those idiotic humans downstairs, so I sat down on the floor next to the window. Leaning my head against the wall, I rested.
In the morning, the first thing I did upon waking up was check on Kha’leneth. He wasn’t on the blanket strange enough. Instead he was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. There was a book on his lap, and he seemed to be focused on it. I thought for a moment that maybe he was okay, but as I approached, I noticed the deadened look in his eyes was still there.
I didn’t understand what was going on with him as I sat there watching. His eyes darted from left to right as normal. I even tried calling out his name, but nothing happened. I spent the morning observing him, and finally he closed the book and placed it on the table.
He moved out of the chair, and I followed him downstairs. There were a few barmaids working on the floor. The rest were probably hung over. They steered clear of him until he sat down. One approached with some food and placed it in front of him. I ordered my own food and watched amazingly as he fed himself a few spoonfuls. It was nothing more than the few though, as if his body no longer found the sustenance appetizing. Of course, after tasting the food, I understood why.
For several days, the same routine happened. He woke up to reading his spellbook. I found out what it was when I began paying attention to the mathematical script on the paper. The Art was always so important to him, so I was not surprised that his body continued the complex study. Is his brain retaining that knowledge, I wonder?
I changed his bandages everyday while checking his injuries to make sure they were doing better. The swelling went down some, and they were scabbing nicely. No pus, no dirt. When I thought the injuries had healed better internally, I healed them up with a few spells.
Physically, he was looking better, but mentally, I knew there was nothing but turmoil. I spoke to him every waking moment, when he was reading, eating, or even when I changed his bandages. There was still no response despite whatever I tried to coax him from his catatonia.
I had to do something.
There was a type of bond that Elves had, something that allowed us to be close to one another despite our differences. In a community, we could communicate to each other through visions, and we could share our memories to those that were close.
Throughout the days that passed, I had thought about using it on Kha’leneth, to see if I could see just what was troubling him, what was keeping him from living. When he was completely healed, I finally decided that I would do it.
We both were on the bed. The sheets were replaced days ago. My hand in his, I began using this elven gift of communion, and with a prayer for our safety, I entered his mind.
And what I saw was terrible. There was no organization in his mind. Even a below average human would have some semblance of structure. Elves had researched the mind, having the centuries available in their hands to accomplish such a feat. It was believed that there were layers within to protect one’s mind, defenses that could be numerous. I hope I won’t come across anything too dangerous. It was also believed that anything happening in one’s mind, happens in reality. Pain in here would equal pain out there, injuries, even death.
There was a sort of bleakness in his mind as I searched around, spots of nothingness and then sparks of color. I delved in deeper, trying to find Kha’leneth’s inner self. Just how far could he possibly be?
“Mother, why won’t father leave me be?”
I turned towards the childish voice and saw Kha’leneth’s mother kneeling and looking straight at me with warm, love filled eyes.
“You must understand, Kha’leneth. You may be his last chance for him to teach his skill and trade to the family. He wants to pass on his knowledge in hopes that you will follow him.”
“But that’s not my path, Mother.”
There was a soft, sad smile on her face. “What is your path, Kha’leneth?”
“The Art, Mother.”
I stared at the image as it faded away. It should be impossible for me to see it without Kha’leneth’s permission. Did he want me to see it, or did he really not have any control of anything in his mind?
“Nooooooooo!!!”
I heard Kha’leneth scream, and it made me jump. An image of a human woman, covered in heavy armor, was hit by a line of blue and white light. Her scream echoed as she fell to the ground, dead. I looked to where the spell came from to see a frightening image of a skeletal figure, its eyes glowing red.
I stood flabbergasted as a wave of multiple emotions hit me like heavy water crashing against a shore. Anger, fear, panic, sadness, guilt, and even a little love, they were all there, and I felt it so strongly. Was it guilt for letting her die that caused him to retreat like this?
“We’d like to know if you want to join our little ragtag group.” A halfling male spoke to me with a grin on his face. There were small blades adorned on his shoulder along with various tools that told me he leaned towards a roguish profession.
There was a dwarf sitting next to him as well as the human female that died just seconds ago. Both held the stature of fighters, and I wondered just what all of them encountered that they met their end. How long were they together, and what encounters did they have for Kha’leneth to have such a strong bond with them?
“What’s your name, lad? If we’re going to stick together, I’d prefer not to call you mage.”
“My name is Eledar Skymantle.”
Eledar Skymantle? But that was clearly Kha’leneth’s voice. It’s common for an elf to change their name when venturing out from home, preferring to not hear their real names mangled by human speech. I’m not sure why Kha’leneth changed his name since he seemed to be more laid back about humans.
The images from the memories slowly disappeared, leaving nothingness that nearly frightened me, but before I could react, trees began to appear, revealing familiar scenery. In my own memories, I could recognize it to be a gathering place in Cormanthor forest.
I looked down at myself, noticing that I began to coalescence in form. A sound of soft, rushing water was behind me, and I began to feel the tranquility that I remembered having every time I visited this area.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
I turned to Kha’leneth, hearing the sadness in his voice, and I was surprised to see his inner self look so young. There was fear in his eyes, and it made me want to reach towards him.
“Why?”
He shook his head as he fidgeted. “You don’t belong here. It’s too dangerous. I don’t… I’m not…”
“I should be saying that about you, Kha’leneth. You shouldn’t lock yourself so deep in your mind.”
The sudden tranquility broke as wails and screams pierced through it. Kha’leneth’s eyes widened as he backed a few steps. Trees began to wilt in some areas, mutating the once peaceful scene.
“No, no, no,” Kha’leneth chanted as he plugged his ears with his hands. He began to fold into a fetal position, and I rushed to him to try to save whatever sanity he seemed to be losing.
Before I touched him, he shot up, eyes full of terror. “He’s coming. You have to go. I…”
I didn’t know who ‘he’ was, but the look in Kha’leneth’s eyes made me slightly frightened. “I can’t go without you, Kha’leneth. You have to wake up.”
Kha’leneth shook his head frantically. He got up and pushed me down to the ground. The mindscape disappeared as soon as I fell. Worried, I held onto the connection that we still had, refusing to leave until Kha’leneth woke up or both of us ended up dead. I lost one person. I’m not losing another. I don’t care what it takes.
Before standing, I looked up to see if there were new surroundings as I still had a form. Instead of seeing a young boy, a much older Kha’leneth was looking at me. Physically, he looked as old as he did when I left home, but his eyes said something different altogether. His eyes looked far older than his one hundred years.
Author: Silver_Lion23
Characters: Kha'leneth Aelorothi/Eledar Skymantle & Elona Silverspear
Rating/Warnings: PG, worksafe
Summary: Just coming back from adventuring in a dungeon, Elona encounters an old friend just shortly after losing one.
A/N: This story is based on two characters created through the D&D system. Elona is a priestess and Kha'leneth is a wizard. I do plan on making stories for both regarding their choice of paths.
Disclaimer: Any reference to anything D&D and Forgotten Realms isn't owned by me, but Wizards of the Coast/Hasbro, yada, yada... Both Kha'leneth and Elona are mine, however.
Once he was semi cleaned off, semi because blood and pus started to leak out, I grabbed a dagger to cut into his clothes. The smell was bad. I was surprised to feel no fever. Perhaps it wasn’t that bad after all.
…
I take those words back. I had to peel his clothes off once I tore them to shreds. I almost threw up seeing skin peeled off, revealing swollen, flaming-red open flesh, cuts and bruises all over, and even a hole in his side. Just how did he live?
Tears were gathering at my eyes, but I had to keep them from flowing. My vision blurred for a fraction of a second, but I could afford no distractions. I had to focus.
I wiped off the dagger that I used to cut his clothes, wiping the dirt that may have gotten on it. There was, surprisingly, a fireplace in the room. I thought that the idiots would of scammed Kha’leneth and given him a room with hardly anything but lice and roaches, taking his money. Maybe they figured someone would eventually have caught on with him in his catatonia.
I started a fire, placing a pot full of clear water on top. As soon as the water was ready, I took the pot and placed it near the bed. It was to be used to help clean the deeper infection.
The dagger, I took and plunged the blade in the fire, carefully allowing fingers of the fire to clean off the remaining germs. I had to cut Kha’leneth and open old wounds.
The arduous task took hours. Many times I was about to cry, especially when I saw that he did not react to the pain that I was inflicting him. I poured a few healing spells into him, to take care of the deeper wounds, the hole in his side especially. The hole was obviously created by a spear, and the burns were probably created by a spell, fireball the most prominent. I thanked the gods that he was still alive, and I prayed for his safe recovery.
The smaller wounds and the burns I bandaged. All and all he looked better by the time I was done with him. I retrieved cleaner water and began to wash out his hair, careful of the bandages that were on his face. A spell helped dry his hair. I didn’t want him to get sick on top of everything.
Once I was done, I laid out a blanket and placed him on it. The bed, everything had to be replaced from the dirt that he slept with earlier. I didn’t want to deal with those idiotic humans downstairs, so I sat down on the floor next to the window. Leaning my head against the wall, I rested.
In the morning, the first thing I did upon waking up was check on Kha’leneth. He wasn’t on the blanket strange enough. Instead he was sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. There was a book on his lap, and he seemed to be focused on it. I thought for a moment that maybe he was okay, but as I approached, I noticed the deadened look in his eyes was still there.
I didn’t understand what was going on with him as I sat there watching. His eyes darted from left to right as normal. I even tried calling out his name, but nothing happened. I spent the morning observing him, and finally he closed the book and placed it on the table.
He moved out of the chair, and I followed him downstairs. There were a few barmaids working on the floor. The rest were probably hung over. They steered clear of him until he sat down. One approached with some food and placed it in front of him. I ordered my own food and watched amazingly as he fed himself a few spoonfuls. It was nothing more than the few though, as if his body no longer found the sustenance appetizing. Of course, after tasting the food, I understood why.
For several days, the same routine happened. He woke up to reading his spellbook. I found out what it was when I began paying attention to the mathematical script on the paper. The Art was always so important to him, so I was not surprised that his body continued the complex study. Is his brain retaining that knowledge, I wonder?
I changed his bandages everyday while checking his injuries to make sure they were doing better. The swelling went down some, and they were scabbing nicely. No pus, no dirt. When I thought the injuries had healed better internally, I healed them up with a few spells.
Physically, he was looking better, but mentally, I knew there was nothing but turmoil. I spoke to him every waking moment, when he was reading, eating, or even when I changed his bandages. There was still no response despite whatever I tried to coax him from his catatonia.
I had to do something.
There was a type of bond that Elves had, something that allowed us to be close to one another despite our differences. In a community, we could communicate to each other through visions, and we could share our memories to those that were close.
Throughout the days that passed, I had thought about using it on Kha’leneth, to see if I could see just what was troubling him, what was keeping him from living. When he was completely healed, I finally decided that I would do it.
We both were on the bed. The sheets were replaced days ago. My hand in his, I began using this elven gift of communion, and with a prayer for our safety, I entered his mind.
And what I saw was terrible. There was no organization in his mind. Even a below average human would have some semblance of structure. Elves had researched the mind, having the centuries available in their hands to accomplish such a feat. It was believed that there were layers within to protect one’s mind, defenses that could be numerous. I hope I won’t come across anything too dangerous. It was also believed that anything happening in one’s mind, happens in reality. Pain in here would equal pain out there, injuries, even death.
There was a sort of bleakness in his mind as I searched around, spots of nothingness and then sparks of color. I delved in deeper, trying to find Kha’leneth’s inner self. Just how far could he possibly be?
“Mother, why won’t father leave me be?”
I turned towards the childish voice and saw Kha’leneth’s mother kneeling and looking straight at me with warm, love filled eyes.
“You must understand, Kha’leneth. You may be his last chance for him to teach his skill and trade to the family. He wants to pass on his knowledge in hopes that you will follow him.”
“But that’s not my path, Mother.”
There was a soft, sad smile on her face. “What is your path, Kha’leneth?”
“The Art, Mother.”
I stared at the image as it faded away. It should be impossible for me to see it without Kha’leneth’s permission. Did he want me to see it, or did he really not have any control of anything in his mind?
“Nooooooooo!!!”
I heard Kha’leneth scream, and it made me jump. An image of a human woman, covered in heavy armor, was hit by a line of blue and white light. Her scream echoed as she fell to the ground, dead. I looked to where the spell came from to see a frightening image of a skeletal figure, its eyes glowing red.
I stood flabbergasted as a wave of multiple emotions hit me like heavy water crashing against a shore. Anger, fear, panic, sadness, guilt, and even a little love, they were all there, and I felt it so strongly. Was it guilt for letting her die that caused him to retreat like this?
“We’d like to know if you want to join our little ragtag group.” A halfling male spoke to me with a grin on his face. There were small blades adorned on his shoulder along with various tools that told me he leaned towards a roguish profession.
There was a dwarf sitting next to him as well as the human female that died just seconds ago. Both held the stature of fighters, and I wondered just what all of them encountered that they met their end. How long were they together, and what encounters did they have for Kha’leneth to have such a strong bond with them?
“What’s your name, lad? If we’re going to stick together, I’d prefer not to call you mage.”
“My name is Eledar Skymantle.”
Eledar Skymantle? But that was clearly Kha’leneth’s voice. It’s common for an elf to change their name when venturing out from home, preferring to not hear their real names mangled by human speech. I’m not sure why Kha’leneth changed his name since he seemed to be more laid back about humans.
The images from the memories slowly disappeared, leaving nothingness that nearly frightened me, but before I could react, trees began to appear, revealing familiar scenery. In my own memories, I could recognize it to be a gathering place in Cormanthor forest.
I looked down at myself, noticing that I began to coalescence in form. A sound of soft, rushing water was behind me, and I began to feel the tranquility that I remembered having every time I visited this area.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
I turned to Kha’leneth, hearing the sadness in his voice, and I was surprised to see his inner self look so young. There was fear in his eyes, and it made me want to reach towards him.
“Why?”
He shook his head as he fidgeted. “You don’t belong here. It’s too dangerous. I don’t… I’m not…”
“I should be saying that about you, Kha’leneth. You shouldn’t lock yourself so deep in your mind.”
The sudden tranquility broke as wails and screams pierced through it. Kha’leneth’s eyes widened as he backed a few steps. Trees began to wilt in some areas, mutating the once peaceful scene.
“No, no, no,” Kha’leneth chanted as he plugged his ears with his hands. He began to fold into a fetal position, and I rushed to him to try to save whatever sanity he seemed to be losing.
Before I touched him, he shot up, eyes full of terror. “He’s coming. You have to go. I…”
I didn’t know who ‘he’ was, but the look in Kha’leneth’s eyes made me slightly frightened. “I can’t go without you, Kha’leneth. You have to wake up.”
Kha’leneth shook his head frantically. He got up and pushed me down to the ground. The mindscape disappeared as soon as I fell. Worried, I held onto the connection that we still had, refusing to leave until Kha’leneth woke up or both of us ended up dead. I lost one person. I’m not losing another. I don’t care what it takes.
Before standing, I looked up to see if there were new surroundings as I still had a form. Instead of seeing a young boy, a much older Kha’leneth was looking at me. Physically, he looked as old as he did when I left home, but his eyes said something different altogether. His eyes looked far older than his one hundred years.