Darkness and fog swirled. Flashes of memories ebbed and flowed through the eddies of smoke. Happy memories of running on hardwood floors and being scooped up by a loving mother. He could feel the imperfections of the wood. Everything felt so real and solid for the first time in seemingly forever. A loving smile lighting up a room, seeing a man come up behind her and hug her, nuzzling and holding her tightly. The emotions were as real as the uneven floor boards. Those memories faded, and others pushed through the mist. These felt more ethereal and almost transparent. Grand adventures with a smiling half elf. They felt hollow and altogether foreign. Dark red glowing eyes peered through the murk. He had these memories before, but they used to feel more grounded, but now all he could focus on were the eyes. Any hazy memory, the eyes were there, red, piercing and menacing. Each time the memory faded, he could hear a wail of anger. Other more solid memories replaced them pulling from the ether. Kind eyes, motherly eyes looked down on a young halfling. Feelings he hadn't experienced in so long filled him, pushing everything out except love, affection, and happiness. One last memory rushed through the clouded darkness, but barely visible. A hilltop overlooking the Coast Way. A red eyed shadowy figure arguing with a dark elf. Both glancing at a halfling sitting against a tree. The last foothold of a foreign memory. Even that began to fade from view. The dark elf turned and peered through the mist, almost as if he could see into eyes looking at him. Before the memory evaporated, all that could be heard was "This isn't over."
Curtains were yanked open, spilling light into the room. The light stung at Chresh, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and he sat up in bed.
Avana sat next to him, "Welcome back."
Just the sound of her voice sent streams of tears down his face and he tried to find his bearings, "How did I get here?"
Her brows furrowed, "You saw me in the market, and passed out. I think you hit your head too hard. I'm surprised you didn't knock that paladin off his feet."
"I think it was shock." He sat up more, surprised he seemed taller than her now. You brought me here?"
"I had a bit of help. Your dad was around the corner haggling over some odds and ends. The paladins actually were the ones that loaded you onto our cart." Her hand brushed away the steady stream of tears, an act of kindness that just made Chresh cry harder, "You've been through a lot."
He tried to compose himself as best he could, "you have no idea."
She brushed more tears away and spoke, but the voice seemed to come from in his mind, "I think I have a clue."
He was so startled he banged the back of his head against the headboard, "How did you do that?"
She glanced at a statue on the mantle and her face flushed. Her eyes had a pain he had never seen before. In all his years, he couldn't remember ever seeing his mother not smile, "I should have said something after that night."
"You knew?"
"Not at first. I could feel the change in you, but I was surprised it had happened so early. I shouldn't have ignored that feeling." Her eyes looked back at the statue, "Did you know that I was a Templar? "
"How the fu..." he cupped his hands. He may have been almost sixty, but suddenly felt like a ten year old who had never cursed in front of his mother.
The life came back into her cheeks as she laughed, "Oh I've missed you."
He thought back to his childhood, almost startled at how quickly those memories came back to him. He remembered falling off a high limb of a tree and screaming in pain. Avana rushed to him and laid her hands on his broken leg. She muttered a few words and a warm glow enveloped him immediately taking away the pain, and mending the break. He looked up now with a feeling of confusion, "you healed me when I was a child?"
"You make it sound like I healed you once." she laughed harder, "little one, you kept me busy for many years. I lost count of how many times you fell off something."
"Those powers came from the Silver Flame?"
Her voice chimed in his head again, "That and more."
"Did the mind talking thing come from it too?"
"No, that's actually a family trait. You left before I had a chance to impart quite a bit of our family's history." Her smile wilted and tears of her own started to well up, "I've missed you so much." She smoothed the hair on his head, "you were so lost."
"What do you mean, lost?"
"Think of any memory from your childhood."
He thought back again and realized those memories felt sharp, and the recollection came almost immediately. Everything he tried to think about came to him with brilliant crystal clarity. The tears started again, "What did you do to me?"
"A calming spell. Someone has been in your head for a very long time. That level of programming took days to sort through."
"Days? How long have I been out?"
"You've been here for almost a week." She leaned against against the bedpost, "my spellwork is a little rusty. The spells I used to clear your mind probably could have been done within a day or two. But then again, the particular charms someone used on you were very strong. "
"Someone was in my head?"
She nodded and the smile faded into a brief sneer that seemed oddly familiar, "I've seen that kind of work before in my days as a Templar. A vampire." She leaned over and tapped his temple, "Someone went through a lot of work to keep you compliant."
"Wait, vampires are real? I just thought that was a coping mechanism!"
"Oh they're real." She rolled her wrist in a circle, seeming to bend the light coming in through the windows and spin it in her palm, "a nasty evil Templars have spent a millennia showing the light." The odd pun stiffened Chresh's spine, and the odd steel gaze as she concentrated on the growing ball of bright light in her hands was a side he had never seen before. She snapped her fingers, and the light shattered like a ball of glass, shards flaking away. "The Order of the Silver Flame are the bane of all undead, and we are the light that will burn away the evil." The word seemed rehearsed, like a mantra spoken over and over. She looked up and her features softened again. "Or at least, that's what I used to be before I met your father. I can't very well traipse around the countryside with a kid strapped to my back hunting necromancers and vampires, could I?"
So little of that was making sense, "My mother was a vampire hunter?"
"Among other things, yes. Your mom had an eventful youth." She tapped his temple again, "after they loaded you onto the cart, I could feel the energies twisting through your body. Even the paladins mentioned it before letting me go. They could feel something wrong with you."
Alarm and shame flooded his mind. "Can you read my mind?" He scooted back so quickly, he fell off the bed. He kept crawling backward till his slammed against the wall, wedging himself into the corner, tears pouring from his face like a faucet.
She walked around the bed and sat on the corner, almost knowing not to get closer. She raised her hand to calm him, "Son, my powers don't work like that. I can't actually read your mind. I can talk to you, and with a little training, you can talk back. But our powers are a bit more empathic. I can't read see what's in your mind, but I could recognize the telltale signature of dark spells that can warp your psyche. I've never seen that level of spellwork to be honest. I've heard stories from others within the order of elder Vampires that had kept slaves and familiars with blighted memories like that. I can only imagine you were mentally tortured for weeks or even months, by a very old vampire."
"The red eyes?"
She nodded, wiping away a tear from her eye, and took a labored cleansing breath. She reached into her pocket and pulled out an insignia. She turned it over and over again, unable to make eye contact, "I know this badge, and have heard stories of their leader. The only reason I know of him is because he had made several pacts with various necromancers and vampires. He's very old, and cunning, and likes obedience." As she twirled it in her hands, she gnashed her teeth, and choked back more tears. Her fingers glowed brightly, and the patch began to smoke. "Mercenaries aren't normally a concern of Templars, but the Empty Hand has been brought up in dark circles. Some of my friends had run ins with several of his inner circle, and tales of the twisted charm spells sound very familiar to what I dealt with in you." The patch caught fire, but didn't seem to burn her hands as she continued, "They talked of many things they did, unsure what was real and what was false."
Chresh was shaking his head, the top of his shirt damp from the tears that were falling, "I've killed people."
The fire in her hands burned hotter till nothing but ash fell to the floor. The pain of those words were impossible to hide on her face, but still somehow she was able to eek out a smile, "Son, a mother's job is to protect their children, and a Templar's duty is to be a shield against the all the evils of the world that prey on the weak. I haven't been very good at either of those in your case." She took another cleansing breath, "I know that under his charge, you've done things you aren't proud of, and we can talk about that when you're ready. But hope springs eternal, and a mother's love is absolute. I won't every forsake you."
He was trembling, shame keeping his stare resigned to the floor, "but what if I can't forgive myself?"
"Our family lives for a long time, son. You have more than half your life, to atone, and balance the scales to whatever you feel is needed. You won't be able to erase it all, but your mind is clear now." The smile started to brighten, "I'm willing to bet more of my son was tucked away in there than you're willing to give yourself credit. I am still in the order of Templars. When you're ready, and once your fractured mind has had time to heal, we can talk, and if you need forgiveness, I can grant it, if it's the will of the Conduit."
"Time? I can stay?" The thought hadn't even crossed his mind till just now. Home felt like such a far away concept. Something across a chasm. That bridge to safety long ago burned to a crisp. The idea that he could ever go back after that dark night seemed impossible.
"You just got here, silly." She got up and smoothed her dress and apron, "we've got a lot to catch up on. Your father has been wearing out a path outside the door for days now watching over us as you were unconscious and I was spell weaving." She paused, suddenly uncertain. After a few moments of silence, she continued, "and your brother is excited to meet you too."
A green eyed halfling sat under a shade tree overlooking the hustle and bustle on the hillside. His eyes weren't on the passing traders on the Coast Way, but on the other side of the hill, down at the cottage he grew up in. His brother helping his mother put up the laundry and his father mending the fencing around the back of their property line. It still felt like watching a story unfold in a book, being the reader and not a participant. It had been three weeks since he had been back. Bow made it a point to try to spark up a conversation every time he saw Chresh. The new brother was only ten years old, but accepted him as family, even though Chresh had a harder time doing the same. You always assume when you're away so long that life eventually goes on, but it's an entirely different concept when that becomes reality. He DID allow himself to feel a bond. He always wanted siblings. Guilt started to creep in as he thought harder. Did his parents wait so long to have another child because of him? His mother said they looked for years. Was the pain of losing him too much to bear? He shook his head. All he did was cause pain to his parents. Pain of losing him, and not knowing what happened. Pain of moving on. Pain of knowing what he became. The conversation went about as well as expected. While Avana tried to ease his heart and mind, he could see in her eyes how much it broke her heart. She never looked at Chresh as a monster, even then. But it still hurt to hear the times he actually took a life. He had given in, thinking he was irredeemable. Yet, despite how many lives he took, she showed him a path back. A path of redemption, but a path he could walk. A path he wouldn't have to walk alone. He smiled to himself, and wiped a tear from his eyes, he finally remembered how it felt to be loved.
"Aww, a whole house of lucky charms." His spine stiffed so quickly it hurt. He didn't even have to look up. Flop sweat and violent shaking of fear were the only markers he could muster as a response. "Especially the little one. He looks kind of like you. Is he the one they had in order to forget the mistake they made in you?" Doggo stepped from behind the tree and sat down next to him, no disguise spell, just the dark elf, goggles on, hat pulled down to shield him from the sun. "It took me quite a while to track you down. Hell, I didn't even look for you for a few days, because I assumed it would take a while for your little feet to make it back to camp. But after a week, I needed to track down my lucky charm." Chresh wasn't sure if he was spelled again, or just too scared to move, but he was frozen, staring at his family at the bottom of the hill, and his mind raced with what he had to do. Run. Just move. Make them safe. His train of thought was interrupted by a sharp pain in his side. The searing heat was unmistakable. His hands managed to move around and grip the blade in his side. He could feel the razor sharp steel, and could feel at least a few inches of the edge before his fingers touched the hilt. He hadn't been run through, but he was bleeding. "I want you to listen and listen very closely. If you aren't at camp by dark, I'm killing the little one first, and you're watching. Then I'm gutting your mother and I'm keeping her foot as my new charm."
In an instant, he could feel the blade leave his side, and the shadow of the elf was gone. He didn't need to look, because he knew how fast he could move. He looked out toward the water and saw the sun was already beginning to set. He had three hours at most before it was dark. He tried to jump up fast, but the pain in his side staggered his movements. He pulled off his cloak and cinched it as tightly as he could to stave off the bleeding. He was quiet and deliberate with his movements. The walk home seemed to take forever. He was crying the entire way, unable to think of a plausible excuse that would make sense to his parents. But he had to get away. He had caused enough pain, and the thought of them losing a second child hurt worse than the knife wound.
He was completely packed. He never really unpacked. Even two weeks of happiness, he knew in the back of his mind, this is what he deserved. People like him don't get a happy ending. He wrote that on a note. "I don't deserve a happy ending." He couldn't think of a way to end the note with much more than "but I'll know that you love me, and that's enough. Please don't look for me again." It was already dark. He knew he was running out of time to get back to where he assumed the Empty hand would have been camped for the night.
"You planning on kicking that note under the door on your way out?"
He looked up, unable to hide the guilty face a son would have for his mother when he was caught. "I....I..."
She crossed the room so quickly, he could barely stutter his next words. She slapped him so hard, his ears rang. For a second, it hurt more than the pain in his side. "You don't get to throw yourself on a sword for me and expect me to accept that. I know the only reason you could be trying to run way. I didn't protect you before, but you better understand right now that I don't make a mistake twice. "
He tried to get up and not say a word. If he spoke. If he looked at her. He knew he wouldn't be able to leave. But he knew he had to. A fist slammed into his injured side as he passed her. It completely knocked the air out of him and crumpled to the floor. "I wasn't done talking, and you are mistaking that conversation is a choice." She bent down and touched his side, and the pain immediately went away. She wiped a tear away, "Feel better? Are you ready to talk this out now? Nothing you can say is going to justify you leaving, so let me know what has you so scared that you are running."
A voice came from outside, "I believe I can answer that."
Avana's face lost all emotion as the severity of the situation set in. The resolve in her eyes was terrifying. She stood up and turned without a word and squared herself to the threat. Her right hand fell slack. He scrambled off to the side a bit and tried to edge himself in front of her. The door to their home was already open with two men standing just inside. In the dim light they both could see Jiem and Bow bound and gagged outside. Doggo, always having a flair for dramatics sat in a chair behind them, tapping a dagger to his teeth.
"I'm disappointed, Chresh. I thought we were friends." His hand dropped to his side, like he had done so many times before.
Chresh saw the movement and looked back panicked, "MOM!"
The glint of steel flickered even in the fading light. It felt like slow motion as it flew true. His heart was breaking in the span of milliseconds. He had brought all this to his family. They were safe and he put them in danger. His world was going to end in a dull thud that would sound like someone hitting a pillow. He prayed she would move. He wished like anything that he could stop the blade. He was still out of breath and couldn't push her out of the way.
CLANG!
That's not the sound it was supposed. The dagger fell, blunted a full three feet from it's mark. Both he and Doggo were startled. The elf never missed his mark. He stood up irritated and in a rare motion, pulled another dagger from his belt and threw again, impossibly faster than the first time.
CLANG!
A second dagger fell, this time bent. The men inside backed out of the door in disbelief. They were new to the Hand, but they've seen the dagger throws and were as confused as Doggo. A third dagger sliced an arm of one of the retreating men as it flew in through the door again.
CLANG!
Avana's eyes glowed. The power sizzled like living flame, so much that the hair stood up on Chresh's neck. She lifted her hand. Light etched and danced in front of her, twisting and racing back and forth. It felt like eternity, but the radiant energy formed a glowing arrow shaped shield with an undulating silver flame at the center as fast as light could move. Her hand raised higher, and the shielding appeared and encased Jiem and Bow. Chresh tried to stand, and slammed his head into an identical shield that had formed above him.
"A drow is an affront to the Conduit. One that employs the undead and supernatural is an corruption that will must be burned from the world with cleansing fire." She started walking slowly, the power and light pulsing, quickening as her temper rose. The men backed away quickly, scurrying away, but just far enough to regroup. Strength in numbers was something they always knew mattered. Doggo was slower to back away. He was always so good and assessing a situation. He could sense those touched by magic, and yet he couldn't understand what was happening...till she cleared the door. Once she was close enough to him, the abilities that helped him gauge his threats, the very senses that kept him alive for so long burned and screamed the warnings. The power was overwhelming. Pride and defiance failed him as he staggered back. Each grudging step back felt like a lost pitched battle, making the dark elf more angry, still trying to assess what to do next. Another glint of steel and the same loud clang. He turned his anger to the bound halflings, throwing a pair of daggers as hard as he had thrown anything in a hundred years. The sounds of steel bouncing off the spells rang in the air. The spell pulsated, spilling light along the hillside, revealing another half dozen men hiding in the waiting darkness. She stopped as she entered the clearing, taking a look back at her husband and other son. Her familiar smile greeted them, noticing they were safe. The shielding inside faded and Chresh raced over to his father and started untying them. She smiled brightly seeing her family together and safe. Her face deadened again as she turned back to Doggo. She lowered her hand, "A Templar of the Silver Flame will not allow this blight to darken the world again." Her words spilled power. She flicked her wrist. A large necklace untangled from her arm, and a jeweled pendant landed in her palm. "You have been judged in this world and I will be the instrument that sends you to the next." Her hands glowed, silver light danced across her fingertips. "May the light of Tira grant you forgiveness."
One of the men screamed as he stumbled and fell into the others still facing the small woman. "SHE'S A TEMPLAR! GET OUT!"
Doggo immediately recognized the sunburst pendant in her hands, and then threw his head back cackling loudly into night sky. He knew it was already too late.
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