Fen'nan assessed the damage.
It felt like deja vu for a moment. With the last slice of her blade she was the only life left in the room. It was so familiar, Ithanian floors and furnishings. The dark bedrooms. The smell of drying blood. So much blood. It was on her, but it blended in with the fitting, dark leathers she wore, so she knew she could skip out unseen. But it wasn't covered here.
She could see it everywhere.
Even in the dark bedroom, where only moonlight from the windows at her back streamed in and gave her the ability to see. She could see everything. There was blood all over the once white bed, it pooled and spilled from the fresh corpse of the slashed throat of a dead woman, her silvery-blonde hair soaked in red, like the white-red stained sheets beneath her. She had received a merciful death. The dead man at her feet had not.
There was spatter one the falls, blood all over the floor. It might've been sickening but she was so used to it, there was no effect on her. Right now. Right now, she felt satisfied. In a cruel fashion, sort of, as she stared at the dead man. There was marks all over him. He'd been gored and brutalized in only the slowest, most painful degree. A practiced torturer. She'd learned that too. There was a ripped off piece of his blue-stained night clothes shoved into his mouth which had saved her the trouble of always having to muffle his screams. He was barely recognizable as it was. She'd made sure he suffered. The memory of their words and his screams replayed in the young Altalars mind.
It felt like deja vu for a moment. With the last slice of her blade she was the only life left in the room. It was so familiar, Ithanian floors and furnishings. The dark bedrooms. The smell of drying blood. So much blood. It was on her, but it blended in with the fitting, dark leathers she wore, so she knew she could skip out unseen. But it wasn't covered here.
She could see it everywhere.
Even in the dark bedroom, where only moonlight from the windows at her back streamed in and gave her the ability to see. She could see everything. There was blood all over the once white bed, it pooled and spilled from the fresh corpse of the slashed throat of a dead woman, her silvery-blonde hair soaked in red, like the white-red stained sheets beneath her. She had received a merciful death. The dead man at her feet had not.
There was spatter one the falls, blood all over the floor. It might've been sickening but she was so used to it, there was no effect on her. Right now. Right now, she felt satisfied. In a cruel fashion, sort of, as she stared at the dead man. There was marks all over him. He'd been gored and brutalized in only the slowest, most painful degree. A practiced torturer. She'd learned that too. There was a ripped off piece of his blue-stained night clothes shoved into his mouth which had saved her the trouble of always having to muffle his screams. He was barely recognizable as it was. She'd made sure he suffered. The memory of their words and his screams replayed in the young Altalars mind.
"You killed her! You killed her she was innocent, she was...my wife..oh Marianne...why? Why would you do that..?"
A laugh and a grin. "Haaa. Paybacks a biiitch isn't it?"
"I said I was SORRY, please. I don't even have an documents. I was bluffing. I just wanted to stop running for my family."
"So. Did. I."
Muffled screams.
She glanced to dead man. Elias never screamed when he was in pain. But he did tonight. She should've felt something. But Fen'nan didn't. There was anger and then there was nothing. Then it was all she could feel. It consumed her. There was no thought. She just couldn't stop.
"Sadima...there is mercy in you...I know there was...is...stop this...I was following HIS orders..."
"Where was your mercy?"
More screaming into the cloth.
"That's how that felt."
Fen'nan knelt beside the corpse, grabbing his bloodied chin and turning his head from side to side, inspectingly. He was missing an ear, on one side. He'd gotten a bad hair cut, where her dagger had nicked his scalp in some places.
"He...made me...please if you're gonna kill me just...do it."
"We're not done yet. I'll show you what the Regalians like to do. Don't move now! Don't want a bad haircut."
She dropped his head, with a silent thud on the wooden, blood soaked floor. The cold numbness that had made it easy. She was beginning to feel sick the more she looked looked at the man's mutilated features. She didn't even recognize him anymore. Not after what she did to him. But he knew her methods. She had to get creative. She glanced to his bleeding hand as she felt the air in the room get stuffier. His fingers were broken and twisted and wrong. It became harder to breathe suddenly.
"I can show you what else they did to me."
"We didn't drive you to Regalia...you were free after you killed him...you're... the one hunting US,"
"Would you shut up? I'm trying to remember. You're left handed, right?"
"All we did...was help him. You did too. You killed for him too. You hurt people—."
"At least I knew when to quit. When it was innocent people all along. You knew. You knew and it didn't STOP."
"This isn't you...please...please just stop and listen. I knew you. I know you never enjoyed—"
"Pffft. Now /where/ are my manners? I just realized you /haven't eaten yet/."
"You care—MMMFF."
"I'll just carve into this hand."
There was a lot of screaming in her mind and she felt her stomach churn. She looked at the massacre of the bloodied room and she thought she was gonna vomit. As the reckless anger left her and the ice left her veins, it was crashing down very quickly. Her crouched knees buckled and she fell back unto her butt.
She'd tortured him until he couldn't take anymore. Until his body shook. Until he bled out.
"Oh gods," she choked, mortified as she scooted back from the horror of a corpse till her back hit the wall, she pulled down the black hood of her cloak as she stared at the body. She couldn't stop staring suddenly. Fen'nan couldn't move, she was shaking. She looked at his palm. At the big, jagged 'F' she had carved into it and gave a strangled noise from her throat.
"No..." she said, bringing her palms to her forehead and shaking her head, face contorting. Now all she could hear was his screams. And Venalaris's encouraging voice. She could feel old scars aching. She could feel everything suddenly. "No, no no no," she repeated, her hands digging into her scalp. She didn't want to be this person. She didn't carve into people hands. She didn't kill innocents. She didn't take ears. She didn't take pleasure in it.
But she had, hadn't she? This was who she was. It was who she had to be. She couldn't afford to feel guilty, or remorse. He'd deserved it all. They all had. They all did.
Fen'nan brought herself up, straightening. She didn't cry. "He would've killed me the first chance he got." She said, to nobody in particular of course, clenching her jaw and swallowing and shoving down her emotion. What was one or two more people she'd killed? There were so many. It'd catch up to her, all the death and pain she'd caused. But not today. She extended her leg and gave Elias's head a slight nudge with her black boot, emitting a whistle. "Sucks to be you, buddy."
Fen turned, her black cloak grazing the ground beneath her, stiff with dried blood. Her crimson hair braided back into a tight braid that fell down her back. She stared out across the darkened streets of Ithania. A land she'd once called home. A land she'd loved. She thought she still had. But she suddenly held a certain resentment for it. It was no home of hers while a King took control of it. While he divided it. Her sharper, beautiful young features were hard and stony. Cold and eternal.
It was beautiful out there. Not in this small confined, massacre of a bedroom. But in the Ithanian stars that shine above its capital outside. When she was younger, she remembered dancing under them. Remembered laughing under them. Singing her jaunty tunes. Fen'nan Solaveira reached back as she pulled the black hood back over her head. A striking contrast to her porcelain, pale features.
But beautiful things didn't last forever. Not Ithania. Not her heart. Not people.
She pushed open the window she'd entered from, grasping it from under with her gloved fingers. Regalia had never been beautiful. It never would be. But she had to face it anyway. For her friends. For the people she tried her hardest not to care for. For the little people.
She stepped unto the window ledge and smirked. "Time to face the music," she muttered dryly in the humor she didn't feel.
Because even as she slipped through the shadows, even as she made her quick way across Ithania and back for Regalia. She could not erase the weight. Or the guilt. Of what horrors she committed and more. Not just Elias. Or Marianne. All of them.
She could never, ever, forget.
And once she thought it was good to hold on and remember. But now she was quite certain it was just killing her slowly. But not before...
Not before she helped her people, would she let it.
A laugh and a grin. "Haaa. Paybacks a biiitch isn't it?"
"I said I was SORRY, please. I don't even have an documents. I was bluffing. I just wanted to stop running for my family."
"So. Did. I."
Muffled screams.
She glanced to dead man. Elias never screamed when he was in pain. But he did tonight. She should've felt something. But Fen'nan didn't. There was anger and then there was nothing. Then it was all she could feel. It consumed her. There was no thought. She just couldn't stop.
"Sadima...there is mercy in you...I know there was...is...stop this...I was following HIS orders..."
"Where was your mercy?"
More screaming into the cloth.
"That's how that felt."
Fen'nan knelt beside the corpse, grabbing his bloodied chin and turning his head from side to side, inspectingly. He was missing an ear, on one side. He'd gotten a bad hair cut, where her dagger had nicked his scalp in some places.
"He...made me...please if you're gonna kill me just...do it."
"We're not done yet. I'll show you what the Regalians like to do. Don't move now! Don't want a bad haircut."
She dropped his head, with a silent thud on the wooden, blood soaked floor. The cold numbness that had made it easy. She was beginning to feel sick the more she looked looked at the man's mutilated features. She didn't even recognize him anymore. Not after what she did to him. But he knew her methods. She had to get creative. She glanced to his bleeding hand as she felt the air in the room get stuffier. His fingers were broken and twisted and wrong. It became harder to breathe suddenly.
"I can show you what else they did to me."
"We didn't drive you to Regalia...you were free after you killed him...you're... the one hunting US,"
"Would you shut up? I'm trying to remember. You're left handed, right?"
"All we did...was help him. You did too. You killed for him too. You hurt people—."
"At least I knew when to quit. When it was innocent people all along. You knew. You knew and it didn't STOP."
"This isn't you...please...please just stop and listen. I knew you. I know you never enjoyed—"
"Pffft. Now /where/ are my manners? I just realized you /haven't eaten yet/."
"You care—MMMFF."
"I'll just carve into this hand."
There was a lot of screaming in her mind and she felt her stomach churn. She looked at the massacre of the bloodied room and she thought she was gonna vomit. As the reckless anger left her and the ice left her veins, it was crashing down very quickly. Her crouched knees buckled and she fell back unto her butt.
She'd tortured him until he couldn't take anymore. Until his body shook. Until he bled out.
"Oh gods," she choked, mortified as she scooted back from the horror of a corpse till her back hit the wall, she pulled down the black hood of her cloak as she stared at the body. She couldn't stop staring suddenly. Fen'nan couldn't move, she was shaking. She looked at his palm. At the big, jagged 'F' she had carved into it and gave a strangled noise from her throat.
"No..." she said, bringing her palms to her forehead and shaking her head, face contorting. Now all she could hear was his screams. And Venalaris's encouraging voice. She could feel old scars aching. She could feel everything suddenly. "No, no no no," she repeated, her hands digging into her scalp. She didn't want to be this person. She didn't carve into people hands. She didn't kill innocents. She didn't take ears. She didn't take pleasure in it.
But she had, hadn't she? This was who she was. It was who she had to be. She couldn't afford to feel guilty, or remorse. He'd deserved it all. They all had. They all did.
Fen'nan brought herself up, straightening. She didn't cry. "He would've killed me the first chance he got." She said, to nobody in particular of course, clenching her jaw and swallowing and shoving down her emotion. What was one or two more people she'd killed? There were so many. It'd catch up to her, all the death and pain she'd caused. But not today. She extended her leg and gave Elias's head a slight nudge with her black boot, emitting a whistle. "Sucks to be you, buddy."
Fen turned, her black cloak grazing the ground beneath her, stiff with dried blood. Her crimson hair braided back into a tight braid that fell down her back. She stared out across the darkened streets of Ithania. A land she'd once called home. A land she'd loved. She thought she still had. But she suddenly held a certain resentment for it. It was no home of hers while a King took control of it. While he divided it. Her sharper, beautiful young features were hard and stony. Cold and eternal.
It was beautiful out there. Not in this small confined, massacre of a bedroom. But in the Ithanian stars that shine above its capital outside. When she was younger, she remembered dancing under them. Remembered laughing under them. Singing her jaunty tunes. Fen'nan Solaveira reached back as she pulled the black hood back over her head. A striking contrast to her porcelain, pale features.
But beautiful things didn't last forever. Not Ithania. Not her heart. Not people.
She pushed open the window she'd entered from, grasping it from under with her gloved fingers. Regalia had never been beautiful. It never would be. But she had to face it anyway. For her friends. For the people she tried her hardest not to care for. For the little people.
She stepped unto the window ledge and smirked. "Time to face the music," she muttered dryly in the humor she didn't feel.
Because even as she slipped through the shadows, even as she made her quick way across Ithania and back for Regalia. She could not erase the weight. Or the guilt. Of what horrors she committed and more. Not just Elias. Or Marianne. All of them.
She could never, ever, forget.
And once she thought it was good to hold on and remember. But now she was quite certain it was just killing her slowly. But not before...
Not before she helped her people, would she let it.
