Post by Anhaedra on Feb 18, 2006 17:47:06 GMT -5
This is a continuation of a story I started on the Scarlet Crusade Forums a while back. Knowing the original isn't too important so, enjoy!
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Feverish, anhaedra shifted his weight, trying to ease the pressure off of his wounded side.
Damn you!, he thought to himself. You are a fool, why would you let down your guard?
For several months he had hunted undead through the far reaches of the world and had become the hunter. Now, however he was the hunted. All he could remember was this:
He felt his prey losing ground, he could feel it in his soul and hear it in the earth. This slimy little undead would pay for his travesties, for the destruction of Anhaedra's village and almost his life.
Finally he caught Lyros the Warrior and called, "Do you have the honor to face me? Can you answer for what you have done? What, you dont recognize me, the little boy you left to die in the ruins of his village next to the corpse of his father?
Recognition dawned on the commander's face, this was no longer that child, however, this was a man. And this man seemed to have a singular purpose, his destruction.
"I meet your challenge human, and will feed on your bones before this sun has set!"
They met in a fury of blades, each a match for the other, but Anhaedra was losing ground. He felt some block, a dam within himself blocking his immense hate and chilling his mind. It was fear, fear of what the rage could do. It would just as easily destroy him as it would the foul thing before him.
He then said, as a strained whisper, "Why? That is the question I pose to you Lyros, why did you do it? We were harmless to you.
Lyros answered in a knowing voice, "It was for you, young one. He yo knew as your father was not, your father is a changeling of unimaginable power, you were the threat."
"Cant you see I have no power here?." By this time they had broken apart, and had begun to circle each other.
As he said this, he felt something inside him break, the dam was gone. With this change came a sense of certainty of what he had to do. He drew the broken sword his foster father had carried, feeling every inch of the jagged metal.
Lyros backed away, his eyes flashing with a mixture of fear and realization. "How did you get that? That is the blade of your father before his transformation. Many a great hero were slain, especially after his betrayal."
"Betrayal? What poison do you speak, undead?"
"You didn't know?" Lyros said with an insidious smile. "He betrayed all he know, tainted with madness. He slew your mother and your three sisters. Only you were saved."
"You lie as you always will, and this is your last." Feeling his father's power in the ruined hilt of the ancient battle blade, he again attacked. This time however Lyros could not stand against his crazed assault. He smote Lyros in each arm, severing them with the slightest slice, and reducing the wretch to his knees.
"So, it has been passed to you," he said with wonderment. "His power, his madness..."
The blade in Anhaedra's hand pulsed with an inner fire and will of its own. With a tremendous shout he clove Lyros in two, raising the dripping and smoking blade to the heavens.
In the last moment of his euphoria, he realized something was wrong. The sounds of the dark forest were gone, something neared.
Out of the forest a tall elf emerged, a staff in his hands. " I am Tyralis, the druid. I taught your father, and watched his insanity claim more lives than any threat before him. I will not let that happen again. This ends here!"
With astonishment, the thought of fighting this creature of magic seemed impossible. Again the dread sword in his hand flared, from its hilt to its shattered edged it yearned for this elf's blood.
"You will not take this from me! I have avenged my city, taken the lives of our enemies! What quarrel do we have?"
"If you want, I can show you"
Before he could react, the druid's spell showed him a great basin, inside a darkened vale. Inside a great red dragon did battle with a group of men. Their numbers were over a hundred but the dragon was destroying them without remorse. It seemed to be invincible.
"Now you have met your father."
"What would you have me do, elf? Can you stop me from becoming what he is now?"
"There is only one in the history Azeroth who can do that. He is your father."
"What must I do?"
Yet again the druid replied, "If you want, I can show you."
So they trained for years, unceasingly in pain. Anhaedra learned how to defeat a being such as his father, something born of another time.
Before he could find his father, an orc raid swept through the druid's home. Tyralis could not stand against so many and was slain by their combined might. Anhaedra killed many but a stray arrow pierced his armor, the poison burning through his veins.
He gave way to the anger and power within him. The passion and sheer force of his will, tore the orcs apart. At their death, he could not stop the power. Relentless it sought out all he once cared for, destoying and sundering . Hundreds of miles away, his father laughed, "I have been waiting for you my son."
______________________________________________
Feverish, anhaedra shifted his weight, trying to ease the pressure off of his wounded side.
Damn you!, he thought to himself. You are a fool, why would you let down your guard?
For several months he had hunted undead through the far reaches of the world and had become the hunter. Now, however he was the hunted. All he could remember was this:
He felt his prey losing ground, he could feel it in his soul and hear it in the earth. This slimy little undead would pay for his travesties, for the destruction of Anhaedra's village and almost his life.
Finally he caught Lyros the Warrior and called, "Do you have the honor to face me? Can you answer for what you have done? What, you dont recognize me, the little boy you left to die in the ruins of his village next to the corpse of his father?
Recognition dawned on the commander's face, this was no longer that child, however, this was a man. And this man seemed to have a singular purpose, his destruction.
"I meet your challenge human, and will feed on your bones before this sun has set!"
They met in a fury of blades, each a match for the other, but Anhaedra was losing ground. He felt some block, a dam within himself blocking his immense hate and chilling his mind. It was fear, fear of what the rage could do. It would just as easily destroy him as it would the foul thing before him.
He then said, as a strained whisper, "Why? That is the question I pose to you Lyros, why did you do it? We were harmless to you.
Lyros answered in a knowing voice, "It was for you, young one. He yo knew as your father was not, your father is a changeling of unimaginable power, you were the threat."
"Cant you see I have no power here?." By this time they had broken apart, and had begun to circle each other.
As he said this, he felt something inside him break, the dam was gone. With this change came a sense of certainty of what he had to do. He drew the broken sword his foster father had carried, feeling every inch of the jagged metal.
Lyros backed away, his eyes flashing with a mixture of fear and realization. "How did you get that? That is the blade of your father before his transformation. Many a great hero were slain, especially after his betrayal."
"Betrayal? What poison do you speak, undead?"
"You didn't know?" Lyros said with an insidious smile. "He betrayed all he know, tainted with madness. He slew your mother and your three sisters. Only you were saved."
"You lie as you always will, and this is your last." Feeling his father's power in the ruined hilt of the ancient battle blade, he again attacked. This time however Lyros could not stand against his crazed assault. He smote Lyros in each arm, severing them with the slightest slice, and reducing the wretch to his knees.
"So, it has been passed to you," he said with wonderment. "His power, his madness..."
The blade in Anhaedra's hand pulsed with an inner fire and will of its own. With a tremendous shout he clove Lyros in two, raising the dripping and smoking blade to the heavens.
In the last moment of his euphoria, he realized something was wrong. The sounds of the dark forest were gone, something neared.
Out of the forest a tall elf emerged, a staff in his hands. " I am Tyralis, the druid. I taught your father, and watched his insanity claim more lives than any threat before him. I will not let that happen again. This ends here!"
With astonishment, the thought of fighting this creature of magic seemed impossible. Again the dread sword in his hand flared, from its hilt to its shattered edged it yearned for this elf's blood.
"You will not take this from me! I have avenged my city, taken the lives of our enemies! What quarrel do we have?"
"If you want, I can show you"
Before he could react, the druid's spell showed him a great basin, inside a darkened vale. Inside a great red dragon did battle with a group of men. Their numbers were over a hundred but the dragon was destroying them without remorse. It seemed to be invincible.
"Now you have met your father."
"What would you have me do, elf? Can you stop me from becoming what he is now?"
"There is only one in the history Azeroth who can do that. He is your father."
"What must I do?"
Yet again the druid replied, "If you want, I can show you."
So they trained for years, unceasingly in pain. Anhaedra learned how to defeat a being such as his father, something born of another time.
Before he could find his father, an orc raid swept through the druid's home. Tyralis could not stand against so many and was slain by their combined might. Anhaedra killed many but a stray arrow pierced his armor, the poison burning through his veins.
He gave way to the anger and power within him. The passion and sheer force of his will, tore the orcs apart. At their death, he could not stop the power. Relentless it sought out all he once cared for, destoying and sundering . Hundreds of miles away, his father laughed, "I have been waiting for you my son."