Into The Void: Arleth Siger

[ManyAsOne]

"There are few words I can say now, Annah, to heal this wound. They have taken all I was and I all could have been. They’ve stripped me bare and made me into one of them. I’ve been made into an extension of their will. I’ve killed for them, and I would have died for them. They’ve taken my parents. They have taken our children. And now they’ve taken you. With your death I've lost the last vestiges of my sanity. I am a shell. A shadow. I will bury my love, Annah. I will bury it under all I have left to guard it with: My hate.

They will all pay."

[ManyAsOne]

Screams of agony. Screams of fear. People screaming for mercy. For their loved ones. For their lives. Bane’s brood never leaves room for compassion.

It is strange how surreal the sight of blood flowing through gutters can be. Couple that with the bodies lying on the cobblestone, some still clinging to their last moments like rats to a sinking ship, and reality seems to bend. Colors seem more vivid. You can almost see those last glimmers of life fading from someone’s eyes. You want to shut your eyes but when you do, those images are still firmly in your head, clawing at your mind. Eating you alive. Time slows and you drink each moment in with ever increasing dread until it peaks with waking horror.

This is not a dream.

You can almost taste the blood in the air. It tastes like iron.

You glance to your comrades. These are men you’ve known and fought beside for years. You look to that symbol on their shields. The black scepter cutting through gold disk held in the talons of a black wyrm. Your stomach turns. You realize what is happening and who they are hunting now.

A god has risen from the grave and now comes the culling of those who’ve lost their faith.

You think on your family.

This is not a dream.

[ManyAsOne]

Arleth awoke with a start. His body was drenched in sweat and his breathing was labored. He felt as if he’d ran a hundred miles in full armor. He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the unfamiliar room. He tried to recall his surroundings. "Where am I?"

It took him a moment to shake the last remnants of his slumber away. "Hillsfar. An inn." He stood and carefully made his way through the darkness to the window. He pulled open the heavy, dust-covered curtains and gazed outside at the city’s nightlife on the street below. Thieves peddling drugs. Whores peddling their bodies. "What hour is it?" Not that it mattered. The city wasn’t much different during the day.

He frowned and glanced down at his arm. It hurt again. He clenched his fist. "I had the dream again, Annah. It troubles me more with each night. The blood. The screams of you and our children…" He turned away from the window and paced to the foot of his bed, crouching to pull out a small, carved wooden box of blackened oak. It bore the mark of the Zhentarim. Biting his lip, he pulled the key from his pocket and opened it.

Arleth gazed into the box at what lay waiting on the soft velvet lining. "There was a point, Annah, where I felt more than this. Before they took you... I do not know what I am anymore. I doubt I am still human." He wiped off his brow and sat back, turning his gaze from the box to the ceiling. He could hear a few patrons still in the tavern below, finishing their final drinks before they found some alley to drift off into a drunken slumber.

"No matter where I go, its there. This dream is following me. When will it stop?" He heard no answer. "I‘ve taken the lives of so many. Retribution for what they did... But still. No amount of blood can fill this void. But, I cannot stop killing. They must all pay. They must all pay a tribute of flesh to you. To our children."

“Annah…” His voice cracked. Arleth felt sorrow stir within him and his eyes water, but no tear fell. He swallowed and sat up, staring into the wooden box in front of him. “A tribute of flesh.” He removed the symbol of Cyric from the box and placed it around his neck.