Legacy: Prologue
by Lark
e-mail: <a href="/py/wmailCompose.py?Pyt=TWmail&[email protected]&FormId=,232,5FBAE78,3E59102,60660BBF">[email protected]</a>
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Disclaimer: See the foreword.
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Creatures of Chaos tore at her flesh as she passed them. She felt
their claws and teeth dig into her. As always, no marks appeared on
her skin. But the pain was there. Poison and fire ripping through
her. Time and space ripped at the very fabric of her being, seeking
to restrain her. But they couldn’t. Nothing could. The light was
blinding and brilliant. The floor beneath her palms hard and cold.
Arms folded comfortingly around her, wrapping her trembling, bare form
in a warm blanket as they did so.
"Mother?"
Dove grey eyes peered through flaming hair into eyes so similar to her
own, they might as well have been hers. Unlike herself, however, this
person’s skin was almost gold, and his hair whiter than fresh fallen
snow. Like Ashlynn’s. Like Oberon’s. She reached up to cup his face.
"Brion. My son."
"Yes, Mother, you are free now."
"So I see. So I feel. Thank you."
"It was the least, Mother, that could be done. But come, you must
rest." He began to pick her up, but she stopped him, unsteadily
rising to her feet, clutching the blanket to her.
"No. Rest will come. But first…first I will
have my vengeance. Tell me my son, how long did my banishment last?"
"One hundred and twenty-six years Mother."
"What? Impossible."
"I’m sorry Mother, but I could not—"
"I will not be denied my vengeance!"
"You will not be denied your vengeance Mother. Some still live."
"Who? The woman and her child?"
"No Mother, the woman lived her life as a mortal.
But the boy yet lives, though he be boy no longer."
"I see." She pursed her lips. The woman had
seemed to be beginning to accept her heritage. A pity, she had had
potential for great magic, and would have done anything for her son.
But no matter. "Who else?"
"The conman."
"What? How is that possible? He was but a
mortal."
"Ashlynn."
"My fool sister died before Oberon banished me to that accursed place.
Died to stop the Fomor from returning to this world. How could she
possibly be responsible for his continued existence?"
"Because of the conman, she lives again. Because of this, he was
gifted with the longevity of the sidhe."
She laughed dryly. "Gift? One would call this a gift?"
"He considers it so."
"I see. Three of them then. And what of the
others?"
"Though they are long dead, their lines yet
continue. Including the
conman’s."
"Perfect. And what of Alasdair?"
His handsome, young features darkened. "He wanders this accursed
world, seeking to understand these mortals. He hopes that, in doing
so, he will find himself. He is a fool." He finished.
"I see. And will he attempt to keep me from my vengeance?"
"Yes Mother. He and Ashlynn have formed an alliance of sorts. And he
will feel a compulsion to protect our father’s bloodline, and those of
the others. He will fight us."
"Then…he must be included in my vengeance."
And evil light entered Brion’s eyes. "Yes, he must, mustn’t he."