Grimdark prompt: In a dream, Keialaar relives the death of MU!Seriol, but it's worse than she remembers.
Sequel to this.
“Hello, daughter mine.”
Keialaar struggled, straining against Ark's hands on her arms. Her lover, her beloved, held her tight against his chest, kneeling on the icy tundra, his eyes on the bloody priest that stood before them.
This isn't real. It can't be real. Seriol is dead.
Behind her, Arkturas trembled, but his grip on her arms was solid as the rocks upon which they knelt. She knew, with the terrible insight of dreams, that her father had done something; gotten to him somehow.
"I have waited a long time to meet you." Robes dragged over the pitted ice, the scraping sound cutting through to her soul.
I won't look I won't acknowledge him this isn't real wake up WAKE UP WAKE UP.
Fingers curled around her jaw, skeletal and cold; there was a brief pressure in the back of her head, and then...
Look at me.> His mental voice had a weight to it, an inexorability. She must obey; resistance was pointless.
Nausea roiled in her stomach. He's dead dead dead I killed him don't look can't look oh gods save me plea---
She woke abruptly, lurching over, her stomach heaving. Swiping at her mouth weakly, she lurched to her hooves, using the tree she had been sleeping against for support. The dreams were getting worse, and she knew that if she gave in, if she looked Seriol in the face, she would be lost forever.
"You can't fucking have me." It made her feel better... stronger. To say the words out loud. She began moving down the mountain again, slowly at first, then more quickly as her muscles warmed. It was time to go, time to put this ghost to rest. Auchindoun... a swift swipe with a blade, and it would be done. Perhaps. Or perhaps this was all in her head. She needed to find someone uninvolved; someone she could trust. Zangarra. She needed a mage.
Decision made, she gritted her teeth and forced herself into a trot.
@wingsofblue
