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[audrina]

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She couldn't take it any longer. She longed for Toren for reasons even she could not understand. There was not a single trait about him that she found particularly interesting or attractive, yet she was very much attracted to him. His face haunted her dreams. These feelings were something she had fought against for many months now, but she was weak. Her excess training was supposed to keep her mind off of him, but that was no longer working.

There would be severe consequences if she were to visit him, to tell him of her love. The curse that holds Beowulf so tightly in her palm would begin slowly to weaken. Beowulf would feel the pain of one thousand blades within his head. Not only would Beowulf pay for her actions, but she would as well. Toren being in the state of undead could never really offer her anything resembling a real relationship. She was setting herself up for pain. For an hour she sat and tried to talk herself out of the journey to the library, but she had felt weak. Beowulf could not fill the empty spot, not the way that Toren could.

For months she had felt weak. A weakness that she had not felt since her time spent serving the virtues. A weakness she hoped to never feel again. She had shut herself down to everyone to avoid this very feeling, but somehow Toren seeped his way in.

There was nothing particularly fetching about him. Half of the time his words were like a puzzle to her, a puzzle she cared not to place together. His laugh and his wide smirk were both things that she could not stand. His never ending search for peace was beyond annoying. Oh, and the doll! The replica of Nightshade strung about his waist. She despised that doll, but at the same time she wished –she- was that tiny object strung on a string around his waist.

Despite the consequences, Audrina set out. She must tell him how she felt and then she would never return. Once she arrived at the cabalist library she sat and waited for him to appear. Much time passed as she waited. Time spent trying to talk herself out of what she was about to do.

“I…well…I…I will leave.” She spoke nervously.

There he was, standing before her, yet no words could come out, at least none that she wanted. His cackle made her cringe. It made her want to leap at his throat and silence him. Her eyes, like usual, glared down at the tiny doll. She did not understand. Would she ever?

Over the course of an hour she had exposed her feelings for him and exposed many tears. What was she doing? Crying? “So weak.” She thought to herself. There had been one thing she had not expected and only one thing. The words bounced off the wall as if they would never leave the building, “I love you Audrina”

She returned back to Umbra, more confused than when she had left. The inn keeper’s eyes looked apologetic, as if she knew the pain Audrina was in. She laid her head down and without much time she was viewing her weaknesses on the inside of her eyelids.

This dream, this nightmare, proved to be worse than any of the others. There on top of a building stood Cear, Nightshade, Xandria, Toren, and Narcissa, surrounded by a larger group of others. She could see Toren clearly as he made his way towards Nightshade. He placed his lips onto hers, just as he did hours before on Audrina’s. With this image, she made a violent grunt, but it was not over. She would not be lucky enough to be able to awake. Her eyes were still glued on Toren. She could hear the words he spoke to her that night playing as a background to this dream.

“And then it will be ours, and peace…Glorious!” Not knowing what he meant she listened to the words. Her eyes still fixed on Toren, not aware of the ceremony surrounding him. “ARMAGEDDON!” his scream echoed through her mind. She watched him step into the middle of a circle. Each of the people on top of the roof pulled out their books of magic. He gripped the necklace on his neck. “The blackrock sustaining me will be consumed and with my dying breath I will stand with my family.”

She wanted to wake up. It was like she had read the script of a play before actually seeing it. She knew what came next. In her dream Toren fixed his eyes upon Audrina’s. No one else could see her watching. She could hear his words from that night again. “Come with me Audrina.” He motioned the words to her and then shut his undead eyes. Every muscle in her body was ready to run, but she had to see it. Cear gave him a slight nod as a single tear fell down Nightshade’s cheek. Each of them began the spell and shortly after there was a blinding light.

“NO!” she sat up screaming. It was over. Finally, it was over. She looked around the room, breathing heavily. What had she just seen? She had matched his words up from the previous night with a vivid picture in her head.
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Darrien_Church: he asked what was the church of england based on
Darrien_Church: so I raise my hand and go "The lustful loins of Henry the VIII"
Darrien_Church : apparently not the right answer

[Toren Smythe]

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He tugged the strings and she twitched; he pulled them hard and she moved; but when he laid them down, she came forward only all the harder.

He was amused, there was no hiding it. He couldn't hide it, she was stumbling over her words like a gradeschool girl, to horny for her time, and anything but ready for what she was proposing. The thought brought a laugh to his throat and who was he to deny himself some humor, hmm?

A mad cackle swept his demeanor and then he was once again calm.

Barely listening to her anymore, he was thinking how best he could use this. He wanted the child back, that was true, but there was likely little he could do to make that reality. Maybe a way to find it, though this was unrealistic too. Laughing again he stared into her eyes. What did he feel when he looked here. His hand moved mechanically to the doll about his waist. It had been so long and he could not move on, he had not forgotten, and numb to all else with an ecstatic joy for the end, his hand still searched for her form. Confusing, bizzare, and allthogether quite hilarious. A chuckle arose from him again before he began giggling. Why was he having such a hard time with this?

He brought himself back from the trance like state into which he had fallen, and smiled as kindly, if however dull, as he had ever and reached up putting a hand against her cheeck. The words he spoke without conviction, there was no passion, there was no feeling, and yet he made it convincing enough to speak volumes to her. It was exactly what she wanted to hear, and the last thing she had expected. Perfect!

Thinking for a moment, his thoughts traced to why; a question he could not quite answer. *He tugged the strings and she twitched* More mechanical than him, he who's heart had turned to stone, and pined only greater for one lost love. Unnimaginable, desolate, the greatest coward. It was only fitting he died in Destard all those years ago. And now, with his second chance, the words would never come. She never needed to know. Making due was due to make. He needed nothing that she could give, and then together they would stand irrevocably, and that was all he really wanted. But how could he imagine this? What was he doing? He was a fool, not justified in any action, yet taking one to destroy so much.

She was jealous of Audrina, Audrina was jealous of her. Is that what he was doing?

Nightshade was numb towards him, and he would never yearn more to stand by her side.

He was numb towards Audrina, and she would never yearn more for his prescence.

He laughed alarmingly loud, and entirely wild, no manner of control imposed upon his outburst.

Then he was silent after only seconds and a small grin played about his lips. The night was drawing to a close and he had said much he never should have.

Taking the doll into his arms he closed it tightly in his embrace, holding the lifeless artifact of love long dead to his life's engine. The necklace danced carelessly about his neck as he rocked to and fro, chewing gently on the dolls hair, carefuly to leave none unturned, absorbing the taste once again. And as he sat there in the impenetrable darkness of his basement he called out her name softly as a whisper of the breeze, a petal floating out to sea, sinking faster, never more to the wilting flower. A tear rolled down his cheek and he bowed his head. For the first time since he came back... he slept and dreampt dreams unthinkable. All the while, her face was there, a becon he would never again caress.
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[NightShade]

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Nightshade stood holding the book of poisons in her hand staring at the many rows of shelves in the library. With a flick of her hand she tossed it up onto the closest shelf watching as its chaotic nature destroyed the order of his system.

She smiled, that had ever been her way. Toren appeared but moments later as if he sensed the betrayal of his system, the inherent chaos in her wake. He was not surprised at the misalligned shelf of books, thier numbers and order destroyed by her hapharzardly ways.

Staring him down her green eyes bright as he sought to tidy the shelves she brought the question she had been asking him for months to her lips. Why do you carry it...

He busied himself straightening his precious books. It is natural for me to want to know why you carry my likeness about with you. He stopped Mmm verywell. A sigh he emitted and she was surprised by his behavior. I love you Nigthshade...

The words sparkled and hung in the air between them, shimmering with what greatness their love fulfilled could be, and then slowly it faded as time a cruel master set upon it.

Her green eyes grew rounder and the breath she might have had would surely have stopped for a moment. She had not expected a revelation such as this. Confusion set in and she struggled to find his words meaning.

Her mind reeled with the sad knowledge, Ever have I held that Love is a weakness, but very few others ever shared that view. It is a poison beyond all others and my beleif of it keeps me from loving... That is what is safe.

You promised me that we would stand together to cast the spell and so we shall, I will not let you out of that promise, it is our destiny.

So stood Toren and NIghtshade looking upon each other-one loving, one refusing to love yet wanting to, bound by the will of Xorinia.
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Something is Wrong, I can still feel Existence...