Urgat
Part of the furniture
- Joined
- Dec 29, 2003
- Messages
- 662
Chapter 1
Sitting in a field making daisy chains… that is my earliest memory. In fact if I think about it, it is also my happiest. So many years ago, I often wonder if my subconscious holds onto that summer’s day in an attempt to keep a hold on something real… something pure and untainted… something I am not.
I was with Kristen. My god I miss her so. I can hear the crystal peel of her silvery laugh right now, as if she were here next to me.
Kristen.
My sister.
I would trade places with her right now if I could. There is nothing I would not give to see her golden hair and blue eyes. To touch her face, and tell her I love her one last time.
But I cannot, for the memory of us on that that Hill in Cotswold is all I have left of her.
It was not long after that day when the knights came for me. I was too young to understand but they took me none the less. I remember riding in the lap of a huge man; his Cold steel Armour hurt my back. As we rode up the hill towards Camelot I clung to the warhorse’s mane as though my life depended on it. As we passed through the great gates, the bells of the Church of Camelot began to peel; sounding to all, that the new Acolytes were arriving.
My life in service of the church had begun.
Be under no illusions… being an acolyte is damn hard work. The first few years were a miserable time. I was too young to understand what my parents had given me, too young to realise the sacrifices they had made in order to give me this fantastic opportunity. Naturally I thought I was being punished for something. Why else would they send me away to this place, away from my friends, from them, from Kristen?
At first they concentrated on getting us used to life in the church. Routines were repeated each day, prayers were drilled into us, and the mantras were ingrained into our very beings. “In the light we trust, for it drives out the darkness, in the light we follow, for it guided Arthur, in the light we believe, for it provides for us all” The training continued through all of my early years. By the time I was approaching my sixteenth birthday, I had served as an acolyte for six years. Before long, I was informed that my progress was adequate, and that upon the morning of my eighteenth birthday, I would be Ordained into the church of Camelot as a full cleric of the light.
My Joy at this news was, as you can imagine, immense. I would finally be able to leave the Church grounds as a full cleric, with luck; I would be able to visit my family often. I doubled my efforts in classes, in order to ensure nothing could go wrong. And things were once again good, until that day. The day that I now realise changed everything.
With the gift of wisdom and hindsight I now understand just how significant that fateful morning was. I use the word “fateful” on purpose, for there is no doubt that what happened back then was meant to happen.
As usual, the morning prayers were about to commence in the great hall, and I was on my way down one of the many corridors of the grounds, when a great black raven fluttered its way towards me, squawking at the top of its little lungs. Clearly I had disturbed it, and in a panic, I turned to run away from the menacing bird.
I lost my footing, and the next thing I remember is waking up with the most frightful headache. I made my way to the great hall; only to find no one there, save for Sister Maria. Who’s look of disappointment told me everything I needed to know about the ensuing conversation we were about to have.
I forget the exact words now, it was so long ago, but, to cut a long story short, no excuses were ever allowed, and thus none were ever given by us acolytes, we simply accepted our punishments. Sister Marie obviously thought that so close to my ordination, I should be taught to keep time more effectively, and thus she devised what I thought to be, at the time, the cruellest of tasks to give me.
Allow me to elaborate…
It was at that time that the Legendary Isle of Avalon had been discovered. As such, an alliance had been formed between Albion and the native races of the ethereal Island. Representatives of the Icconnu had travelled to Camelot in order to further cement the relationship. It soon became known that these strange small creatures spoke the name of a different god in their prayers. Stories of this new deity echoed around the city, “Arawn the lord of darkness and the underworld” was a name whispered with mistrust and fear amongst the population. Imagine our surprise when, by order of the king, a contingent from Arawn’s faithful were to be based within the church grounds!
They were given the crypts under the gardens, “a place more suited to there desire” we were told. Before long the first of the followers or Arawn arrived. We shuddered as the Necromancers filed past us. Revulsion filled us, how could we be allied to something so utterly removed from the Pure light of Camelot? The Revulsion turned to fear, as the Guardians of Arawn’s church appeared amongst us. The Reavers… Cold, merciless, and wielding magic and weapons that stripped the very souls from living beings.
And thus to my punishment…
Sister Marie instructed me that each morning at sunrise, for the next three months I was to delivery the morning’s paperwork to the Icconnu in charge of the Contingent in Camelot. I was repulsed, not only would I have to venture into the crypts, I would have to stand in the presence of the highest ranking member of the Church of Arawn in Camelot. Every Day!
I spent the rest of that day in silent dread at the thought of dawn the following day… My anxiety, as it turned out… was well placed.
The first morning of those three months was the worst in my life up until that point. I gingerly made my way down to the Crypts as slowly as I could. Every step took me further away from the Light, and closer to the darkness. I comforted myself with the Mantras, trusting in the radiance of the light to shield me from the Darkness that now prevailed in those halls. As I approached the door to his chamber my skin crawled. I raised my hand to knock, and almost died of shock when a chill voice from within bade me enter.
As I stepped into the room, I gazed upon the leader of the Arwanites in Camelot, the aura of power that emanated from that creature was, as I recall… sickeningly Dizzying… yet strangely alluring at the same time. Looking back… I realise that even though I did not know at the time, it was then that I fell. He must have known this… because the slightest of smiles crept onto his lips before he coldly pointed towards a pile of papers on his desk. As quickly as I could I dropped my delivery onto the desk and bolted from the room as fast as my quivering legs would carry me. This continued for three months. And after that ordeal, I can honestly say I have never been late for anything else in my entire life. Lesson learned I think?
And so after another year or so, the day of my Ordaining was fast approaching. Preparations were made, and I was once again looking forward to becoming a cleric, and finally seeing my family again. I imagined how they might look, I wondered if my sweet Kristen still had that Blonde hair of hers, and I laughed to myself, at the thought of her seeing how much I had changed.
That hill in summer is my first memory, but the eave of my Ordination will remain the clearest and most vivid memory I have.
I was summoned to Sister Maria’s Office, when I entered I knew something was immediately wrong. Sister Maria had the gravest of expression on her face, and with her was Sir Tristen of the Knights of Light. Paladins attached to the Church in Camelot. Naturally I thought I was in trouble, that the ceremony in the morning would not be taking place. Nothing could have prepared me for what she said…
“Emily, I am sorry my child, there is no easy way to say this. I am afraid your Family is dead”
I sat in silence, not really comprehending what she had said. It was impossible, I was going to see them tomorrow, and they could not be dead. She was mistaken.
“A Cotswold patrol reported an attack on your father’s farm my child” continued Sir Tristen “The goblins left no one alive”
That sentence rang true however, Paladins could not lie. My family was dead?
I remember screaming, crying, falling to the floor. The rest is a haze. Eventually they calmed me.
“Did you find them?” I asked through blurry eyes
“Who, my child?” replied Sir Tristen
“The goblins” I answered “Did you find them and kill them?”
“Emily… That is not the way of the light and you know this…” he answered
“What!” I exclaimed
“To pursue revenge is to fall to their level child, you should know this. Your family rest with the light now, Mourn them, and take up your place as a Cleric tomorrow in their honour, but above all, put thoughts of revenge out of your heart”
“To hell with honour! To hell with the light, they killed my family, they killed… Kristen” I shouted at him
Kristen.
My sister.
They took my sister from me.
I fled from that room with tears streaming anew. I ran and ran, until finally I collapsed to the floor into a sobbing mass.
I did not know how long I had been there before I heard the voice.
“Why do you cry child” it asked without a hint of concern, the question was purely functional
“Because my family is dead!” I screamed whilst flashing my eyes upwards. They were met by the chilling gaze of the Icconnu Leader from my days of punishment.
“All things die” He stated in a matter of fact tone
“They were murdered!” I retorted, no longer caring that his presence filled my body with dread.
“Then… why are you here crying, instead of gaining revenge?”
It was a simple question, but the truth of it struck me to my core. “I… I cannot….” I answered feebly
“Come then, I will help you child” he said as he looked into my eyes with that same slight smile on his lips.
Before I knew it, we were heading out of Camelot, into the Cotswold Hills. We rode up into the foothills almost in a straight line; it was as if he knew where to go. Presently we stopped, and he reached into his saddle bag and pulled out an azure Blue hammer and shield before handing them to me.
“The goblins are up ahead, take these you will need them. Now go and extract the debt that they owe you for your family, child”
My head was spinning; I was confused “But… I” I stammered
“No buts… Think of you mother, your father, your Sister. Do this and I promise you, you will be aided, you will receive the strength you desire, you will be granted the justice you seek. Trust me in this child, go … go and take your revenge!”
His words pierced my heart, I almost ran up that hill. My heart pounded in my chest and my mind raced. I descended on the goblin camp with a fury, heads cracked, faces split, and bones broke. With every blow I shouted my Sister’s name, and with every scream from a goblin I drew comfort for her suffering.
Before I knew it there were none left, I fell to my knees exhausted, and then it dawned upon me as I gazed at my hands, I was covered in the blood of the mangled. I surveyed the camp, all around, death, devastation, all my doing. I dropped the hammer and shield, and as they fell to the blood soaked floor he spoke.
“Well done child, revenge is yours”
I did not know what to say… the memory of My little sister was swimming in the blood of her killers… this was not as I had desired. I was tainted… and so was my sister’s memory…
“Arise” he continued “What is your name child?”
“Emily” I answered
“No longer” he returned “For now you belong to Me, As Arawn granted you the strength to take that which was yours by right, I now Grant you your true name”
I looked up at my new master as he spoke the words that echo in my head to this day
“Arise, Sanguinne… The bloody one… Arise and embrace the darkness as you have turned your back on the light. Arise and take your place in the Church of Arawn by my side.”
I stared blankly into his eyes, as he whispered the two words that sealed my fate…
“Arise… Heretic”
To be continued...