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[Kaylor]

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Now it comes to this . . . a final separation from the maelstrom that constantly rages within me. I shall force evil from good, darkness from light - at last know true freedom from the chains of duality that have bound my soul for so long.

. . . to be continued
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*Even if you be otherwise perfect, you fail without humility. ~ The Talmud*

[Kaylor]

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Translucent flames frozen in clarion luminescence arise from a sudden cinereal mist enclosing him within the impassable trammels of their icy confines. He opens his hand, watching as though from a distance outside himself as a dagger manifests against his outstretched palm - an intricately carved silver hilt giving way to an obsidian blade. His fingers forced, they close upon the weapon, its acicular ebony shank painlessly penetrating the flesh of his opposing wrist. Rivers of viscid amethyst fluid rush from the wound, cascading over his flesh in a radiant sacrifice of his own vital fluid.

Music surrounds him - his heartbeat . . . or hers? A forbidden fusion of silk and shadow, fire and ice. Her fingers brush his cheek. He tenses, aches, burns. Shades of azure flame dance, leap, sear, stealing his breath with a slow seductive decadence that torments his will.

The empty vial falls from his grasp and shatters upon the stones.
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*Even if you be otherwise perfect, you fail without humility. ~ The Talmud*

[Kaylor]

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I stand ready, determination my saving grace. Whether this brings resolution or torment, the curse must be broken forevermore. IF I fail Ancyous knows what must be done and he has agreed it best for all concerned. Therefore may this draught serve me well rather than that I should come to serve it.


. . . To Faerwhynne!
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*Even if you be otherwise perfect, you fail without humility. ~ The Talmud*

[Cezanne Abella]

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Ancyous was right. Cezanne watched Kaylor silently, hardly daring to breathe, from within her tightly woven shadows. A wraith itself would have made no more sound than she. He held up the luminescent amethyst vial, watching the candlelight that danced within. Seemingly mesmerized by the twisting and shimmering light, he uncorked the elixir and lifted it toast to something or someone unseen. Then he lifted the vial to his lips and drank deeply, never pausing until the last drop fell upon his tongue.

Whatever purpose this elixir served, Cezanne found it unsettling, fearing what it may bode for the future. You rest on a knife’s edge already, Kaylor McKairin. Harken your own warnings, that you might maintain your balance. Lest you, falling, should take the rest of us with you…

[Kaylor]

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Light and shadow played their ancient game, a myriad of intricate patterns wildly careening throughout the ambient atmosphere in total disregard of their effect upon the solitary figure they surrounded. A heavy cloak concealing his identity, he stood fast within the clutches of a pain so deep his lungs all but refused to take in air for the excrutiating paroxysms their expansion caused him. Searing heat, torturous in magnitude, wreaked havoc along his every sinew yet he never flinched, instead remaining stolidly upright, defiant in his denial of the agony consuming him. Stones smoldered beneath his boots, smoke slithering from their surface in serpentine swirls of shimmering iridescence threatening at any moment to give way to flame.

There could be no denying the whispers of his heart. To turn away from what was being offered would be to turn away from the very breath of life itself, but his axe must not waver from its purpose and wield it he must else the end of all he held dear be at hand. His arms an open invitation, she moved lithely into his lethal embrace. He drew forth his weapon, its gilt laden hilt gleaming virulent in his grasp while his lips teased at hers in tender distraction.

. . . And then it was done. She lay at his feet, a pool of crimson her bier. "The price of protection," he laughed as he turned away, leaving his anguish lying beside her.

Kaylor leapt from his bed drenched in a cold sweat from head to toe. Quickly, quietly, he walked to the door opening it with great care and concern, grateful to find what he sought. She slept peacefully, wrapped in the quilts Ancyous had provided her. "Praise the Saints," he whispered raking a trembling hand through the tangled mass of ebon locks clinging to his head. Then crossing himself he whispered a solemn prayer that the choices he was making now were indeed the right ones. Soon, one way or another, the evil inside him would meet its end.
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*Even if you be otherwise perfect, you fail without humility. ~ The Talmud*

[Kaylor]

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What is this feeling
Of power and drive
I've never known?
I feel alive!

Where does this feeling
Of power derive,
Making me know
Why I'm alive?

Like the night, it's a secret,
Sinister dark and unknown.
I do not know what I seek,
Yet I'll seek it alone!

I have a thirst
That I cannot deprive.
Never have I felt so alive!

There is no battle
I couldn't survive -
Feeling like this -
Feeling alive!

Like the moon, an enigma,
Lost and alone in the night
Damned by some heavenly stigma,
But blazing with light!

It's the feeling of being alive!
Filled with evil, but truly alive!
It's the truth that cannot be denied!
****************
*(Alive - Lyrics Frank Wildhorn)

The line was almost crossed, the delicate chasm breached. Next time it will take more than a tear to stop the hand of darkness!
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*Even if you be otherwise perfect, you fail without humility. ~ The Talmud*

[Kaylor]

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http://youtu.be/vS3x7f0CGEY
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*Even if you be otherwise perfect, you fail without humility. ~ The Talmud*

[Kaylor]

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Kaylor lowered to his knees before the Ankh. Yew abbey was the nearest thing to a monastery such as those of his beloved homeland and it was here he felt the most at ease with what he had to do. Making the sign of the cross, he lowered his head in prayer . . .

Dearest Father, my sins are many and far beyond forgiveness. I neither ask for nor do I dare expect their absolution. Instead I offer a sacrament of pennance. Guilty of murder, this knight may no longer in good conscience continue to call himself Templar and thus deserves not the service to vows once taken with such holy piety, for they have been fouly desecrated.

Just two nights past my brother Ancyous assisted me in defeat of the darkness that has held me in its clutches for so long. My soul rests easy in the knowledge that my realm shall never know the wrathful vengeance of Rhiannon's curse. Thus assured of Faerwhynne's eternal safety, the personal price I pay becomes inconsequential in comparison to your blessed saving grace. For this I thank you, Father.

Use me as you will for I remain forever your most humble servant.

Kaylor smiled softly as he opened his eyes. At long last he was free to be himself again - no better nor worse than any other man; free to pursue life, free to pursue love . . . free to stop anything and anyone fool enough to stand in his way.
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*Even if you be otherwise perfect, you fail without humility. ~ The Talmud*

[Merci d'Rue]

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She stood in his way... Her hand out towards him beseeching. Kaylor!

He stopped, he was just here to peruse books but the unexpected view of the Oracle so out of her element surprised him.

Will you ride with me?

He was confused, she could see it on his face, wondering what her motives were. Of course Lady Oracle.

So they rode a few paces away from the building and she stopped. Pulling out her book she implored him. Follow that rune.

Soon they were searching a mage shop destroying bookcases, overturning desks, till at last they found thier prize. A prize unlike any other...

Thankyou Kaylor I couldnt of done it without you..

A multitude of confusion over the need for this book rose between them but she would not tell, the mystery locked deep in her eyes.

So she moved.. out of his way and away from his view. For now.
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May destiny guide you...