#literally did not know sheba had a last name until looking her up

[turboemmy]

redesigned the twisted tales pals :-)

[unluckyadept]

Flare of the Morning Star

<<—Previous——————Flare of the Morning Star——————Next—>>

PART III: LIVING NIGHTMARE

Somehow… he always knew it would come to this.

Always.

He had dared to believe that the darkness could be pushed back, and he could finally move on in his life as the sun finally began to rise at last.

Instead, he was tormented mercilessly as time pressed on, making it clear there would not be a sunrise. Not for him.

This is why we can’t have nice things.

Be aware that the following themes are present in the text below.

Locked In The Dungeon

Denied Food As Punishment

A Taste of the Lash

To The Pain

Fed to the Beast (Threatened)

Rape, Pillage, and Burn (Threatened)

Forced to Watch (Threatened)

Public Execution (Intended/Attempted)

Make An Example of Them (Intended)

[He was surprised when he woke up in chains.

Not so much because of the chains themselves; more over the fact he had woken up at all.]

“…”

[He remembered the blaze of glory, the sheer power of triumph. He was destroying them, and then suddenly, after shattering their might—

Nothing.]

“…”

[Was it enough to save them from the terrors of a life under tyranny? They had spent so long preparing for that very day, and they had driven back the attack—and he had put in the strongest of measures to prevent the Tolbi Empire from just overrunning them and brutalizing the populace into submission.

Had it been enough?

He had no doubts at all that it had been worth it. Of course it was worth it. But had it been enough? That was the real question.]

“…”

[If he didn’t break free, then they would try and break him. Knowing this, however, only left him with a cold feeling of unmoved resolve.

They certainly couldn’t coerce him with threats on his life; he knew very well that—unless he escaped—there were no scenarios that ended with him surviving the ordeal. With that in mind, anything else was ultimately redundant.

They would try, but they would not succeed. They had no real power over him. What could they blackmail him with? Not his family. Not his hometown. Not Lalivero. Not Sheba. Certainly not the Grand Master Tamer, who would be unmoved if the face of torture.

He wondered what his friend would say now. He had tried to ask about this very moment, this nightmare that wasn’t breaking—but the Proxan had refused to entertain the notion.

And he supposed, upon reflection, that the answer was the same.

His duties did not change just because he was now captive to tyranny, and soon to be punished for standing up against it. No… if anything, it was all the more serious of a task, since the reward would not be of any benefit to him, and may not come to others for a long time.

He was grateful that the Teleport Lapis was with Sheba and the rest of the Alchemy artifacts were in Prox. The Sol Blade, too, was in Lalivero—he had taken the Rune Blade, as this had been meant as a scouting mission.

He was mildly surprised that he was still in his armor, but perhaps they liked the visual of an opposing general in chains. It would make sense, given how much they relied on propaganda and drama, all smoke and mirrors.]

“…”

[He found that he had no energy to use the brooch. No real energy at all, really.

Not too surprising. After what he had been put through, it really was a marvel that he was alive at all. It was to be expected that he was absolutely burned out.

Ah well. It couldn’t be said he didn’t think of it, didn’t try.

There just hadn’t been enough time.]

“…”

[Tired.

He was too tired to be angry, upset, or afraid at this point.

He had a long fight ahead of him. A battle against abject despair. He needed to fight for the will to live. Without it, he would fall.

Undoubtedly, Darzul would have a fiery motivational speech right now. Certainly, it wasn’t the end yet. He wasn’t going to put up with this for long—he would die free before surrender to tyranny, ultimately.

So this wasn’t a surrender. No.]

“…”

[He squinted against the light of the morning as sun filtered through the cell and hit his face.

Whether for good or ill, the day was only just beginning. It had started off terribly, and he knew he had a long fight ahead of him.

But this wasn’t over.

Not even close.]

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“{So. It really IS you, after all these years.}”

“…”

[Felix kept an unmoved expression, despite the utterly humiliating circumstances.

Chains held him tightly in place against the wall, preventing him from folding his arms in.

His gloves and his cape had been taken away, leaving old scars plain to see.

Old scars that were on record. And he had to be somewhat impressed that they’d managed to figure it out so quickly, that they were able to identify him and pull his records.]

“{You’re just a real thorn in our side, aren’t you? Determined to be a criminal agitator that creates chaos in his wake. Never satisfied, are you? Well, now you’ve outlasted your luck, names aside.}”

[He gave a very unamused expression at this.]

“{Do you know what happens to murderers and agitators in Tolbi?}”

“{Vaguely.}”

“{Oh, so you CAN speak. AND in our language.}”

“…”

[The officer tapped something against his hand, giving a displeased stare.]

“{Good. It wouldn’t be nearly as meaningful if you didn’t understand what was going on.}”

[Felix gave a bitter, exhausted, and scornful grin at this.]

“{You won’t be smiling for long. You think you have some sort of victory here?}”

“{Do you really want to know?}”

“{You are incredibly impertinent.}”

“{Why waste our time if you will try and silence me at every turn?}”

“{At least you have some degree of insight.}”

[Tap. Tap.]

“…”

“…”

[There was a harsh noise as his captor suddenly lashed out—literally—and streaks of pain sliced across the left side of his face. He had unwittingly cringed and recoiled against the pain, so his shoulders and wrists were also left sore, and his sense of dignity damaged as blood ran down his face.]

“{Learn your place. You have crimes to answer for, and you will answer for them.}”

[Felix managed to give a glower to match the other man’s cold glare, the two of them growing increasingly tense in alpha domination and defiance.]

“{If you think that you do yourself any favor or flattery by continuing to defy us, you are vastly mistaken. Do not think for a moment that it will earn you any admiration or glory.}”

[He could taste the overpowering taste of iron, now, but he remained silent.

Oh, he had much to say. So much to say.

But he would wait. He would wait until he were dealing with someone worth his time.

On some level, the other man recognized this unspoken message, and it left him fuming.

This time, the lashes hit across his right forearm, and it truly burned. He gritted his teeth in the aftermath—equally out of pain as out of scorn. He glared at the other man, who was turning to leave the room.

The temptation to exert his own dominance and authority was strong. Very strong. He was not afraid to do so, not at all—

But he did want it to be worth the effort, and this man was not honorable enough for that.

He had to give a rueful laugh at this. How absolutely absurd that he hoped that he’d get a chance to deal with someone who treated him as an equal. An enemy, but an equal. How absurd, that his primary thought was injured Pride, over outrage at the very situation.

Sheba, for her part, would not be amused at this. And Ray would be “disappointed”, in a very angry way.]

({I stand by my decisions. And frankly, I’m tired of it.})

[He looked up with a sudden glare, brooding in alpha dominance.]

({It’s about TIME someone stood up to these dictatorial tyrants. I’m SICK AND TIRED of ALWAYS living in fear of them! They have been RUINING my life with fear for DECADES!})

[He drew himself up to his full height, clenching his fists and teeth tightly.]

({I’m not just going to let them take away EVERYTHING that matters! I will fight. I will fight with everything I have. I WILL FIGHT TO THE END!})

[For the first time he could remember, he was _brimming_ with anger, but not crushed with the pressure of power. He’d burned himself out, and his rage no longer drew forth energy from the world, unleashing it in raw form. Truly, he was as weak as a normal man now, if much more sturdy.

And yet, that didn’t burden him in the slightest. He didn’t feel helpless, and certainly not given to despair.

He let out a small laugh.]

({Dirty tricks in the middle of the night by a pack of brutal COWARDS who hack and BURN everything that they don’t like… that’s the EPITOME of weakness.})

[He was filled with an inner fire.]

({I expected better than such a spineless ruse. Not sure why… they don’t see us as real people, only as slaves they are entitled to work to death, to dispose of at any moment, utterly reliant on them to survive. I should have expected something so appalling and dirty.})

[He closed his eyes, wiping what he could of his face against his shoulder.]

({Well, they’ve underestimated me. Vastly underestimated me. And that will be their downfall, that they can’t even come CLOSE to matching me when I’m awake.})

[Oh yes, they were going to find out. They would find out the hard way.

For he was no whipped hound to be abused into a cowering mess—he was an wild wolf, an Alpha with the fire of dragons boiling in his core.]

({This. Isn’t. Over.})

[Felix was daydreaming in contentment about working at the forges when the sound of the door opening interrupted his peace. He opened his eyes, looking on with mild disinterest as several people walked into the room.]

“{Is it true that you understand our speech?}”

[Felix gave an unamused frown, saying nothing at first.

The conversation was starting off better than the last one had gone, but it was evident that his behavior had reached the ears of someone with more authority and power. He would have liked to think that would make them more reasonable, but he could not imagine that he would be treated any differently than he had been up to that point.]

“{I suggest you answer before your refusal to do so costs you the ability to speak at all.}”

[He gave a brief look of unmoved gravity before speaking up in a flat tone.]

“{Why?}”

[A pause at that.]

“{How do you know our speech?}”

[Felix grinned at this, smirking in amusement.]

“{I learned it from your best scholar, decades ago.}”

[This clearly came as some sort of surprise. Felix shifted his weight, leaning more casually against the wall.

It was true. Kraden had taught him how to read and write in the language of the Tolbi scholars, as Kraden himself had been. It was Garet’s mother that taught them how to read in the language of Vale—but he hadn’t paid much attention to either until after several years into his exile.]

“{This shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.}”

“{Name the man.}”

[He closes his eyes and shook his head at this.]

“{I will not warn you a third time.}”

“{I have no interest in facilitating the injury of my former teacher. He’s a good man… and does not deserve to be hunted down.}”

“{If you cannot name him, then I reject your claim as a lie.}”

[Felix remained unmoved.]

“{I will not repeat myself, either. It would waste our time.}”

“{I begin to see why you were reported as a particularly haughty agitator.}”

[Felix gestured as best as he could.]

“{There isn’t much point to responding one way or another, if one won’t be permitted to finish their response to others. It wasn’t worth my time or effort to interact with someone who didn’t have the prudence to listen.}”

“{You presume much about your situation.}”

“{Do I? Just because I realize others see me as beneath them doesn’t mean I am unworthy of respect.}”

“{Respect?}”

“{Come now. When one faces their equal or superior in battle, respect is necessary in order to take them seriously as a worthy opponent. If you do not see or treat me that way, then it’s not worth your time to bother, and not worth mine to interact. Surely, as someone with many responsibilities, you can see the value of not wasting time, and the implications of devoting time from what limited amount there is.}”

“{You have done nothing worthy of respect, but you are right about one thing: my time is not to be wasted.}”

“{Pity. I should have liked the opportunity to speak with an equal.}”

“{I am superior to you.}”

“{On what grounds?}”

“{You are a prisoner, and I am a commanding officer of the greatest army in Weyard.}”

“{Hmm. So then, why are you wasting your time with a ‘mere’ prisoner?}”

“{I am not answerable to you.}”

“{Then there is nothing for us to discuss.}”

[The soldier lowered his eyelids.]

“{You act above your station, and with far too much disrespect for someone in your position.}”

“{I am willing to be respectful, but I shall not be deferential. There is a difference.}”

“{Again with the impertinence. You owe us both.}”

[Felix just shook his head in silence.]

“{Still defiant? There will be consequences for that.}”

“{Is that meant to intimidate me?}”

“{I would question your sanity, let alone intelligence, if you are truly unafraid.}”

“…”

“…”

“{We know what you are capable of. Kidnapping, blackmail, assault, arson, murder of armed and unarmed men—assassinations, even—this only adds to your list of crimes. Creatures like you aren’t even worth being called ‘men’. Such lawless barbarity is beyond that.}”

“{I am not going to waste our time responding to your accusations.}”

[A pair of spears were leveled at his throat, but he only laughed.]

“{This man is mad as well as barbaric…}”

“{You think this is the first time someone has leveled a blade to my throat? Hardly. How utterly absurd.}”

“{We’ll see how you fare when subjected to the punishment you have earned. Something tells me you won’t be full of bravado then.}”

“{Always looking for a show, aren’t you?}”

“{You really ought to take the matter more seriously.}”

“{I respect you enough to say this: if you have something to say or ask, do so. If you have something to do, please get on with it. And if not… I’d rather we not waste any more of each other’s time.}”

[The soldier seemed to think this over. As best Felix could tell, he was tempted to act on his own… but prohibited from acting freely due to not being high enough of a rank to do whatever he pleased.

Ultimately, he commanded the other soldiers to stand guard outside the cell, and left Felix in silence.

After they finally let him be, he let out a slow sigh and closed his eyes.

Maybe now wasn’t the time for daydreaming, but he was going to have to wait for a better opportunity or greater necessity. And he needed to remember why he was doing this, anyway. Why it was worth it.

Why he absolutely had to put up with whatever happened by fighting against it.]

[He wasn’t about to give up what he had. What he had earned, after so long in exile.

He had been happy, before all of this. He had been at peace, and lived in peace. His life was his own; he was his own man, and he wasn’t about to let all of that fall away.]

({If they think this is the end of it, they’ve got another thing coming.})

[Even if he were overpowered, it wouldn’t be over.

And they were in for a massive wake-up call if they thought that they could coerce him into submission.]

({This still isn’t over.})

[Daydreams turned to real dreams as the time went by.

At first, his dreams were pleasant. And perhaps that was the main reason he slept as soundly as he did.

He slept away valuable hours, only waking to the loud clatter of someone opening the cell door and—more importantly—lashing him across the face again. He didn’t really have time to react before he was hit a second time—and he only just managed to shut his eyes in time.]

“{I’ve heard a fair bit about you.}”

[He made an effort to try and return his breathing to normal as the new voice continued.]

“{Why do you think so highly of yourself? Do you not understand your situation?}”

[He raised his head, squinting through the bloody bangs that were plastered to his face.

One of the Tolbi soldiers was standing at the doorway, his hands behind his back. At his side, he carried none other than the Rune Blade—Felix’s own sword.

And he was struck with weary emptiness, thinking back on how confident he had been that _he_ would have been the one presenting his friends with the spoils of victory.]

({I’m sorry, Brandish…})

[Instead, it was his gear that would be flaunted as a prize.]

({To the victor goes the sword of the fallen.})

[Well.

He wasn’t quite fallen yet.]

“{I understand your intentions perfectly well.}”

[He raised his head, looking at the other man with an unmoved expression.]

“{I always have.}”

[He gave an empty smile.]

“{It doesn’t change the truth of what happened.}”

[The other man stepped forward.]

“{I will say this but once: surrender, or suffer the consequences.}”

“{Why would I surrender? You have no intention of letting me live either way. It’s no benefit to anyone else for me to surrender. And even if there were, I don’t trust that you’d keep your word.}”

“{For whatever reason, you chose to defend Lalivero. If you wish to have them spared, you will surrender.}”

[Felix glared.]

“{You are never going to take Venus Lighthouse.}”

“{Do you think mere mountains will stop us? It is only a matter of time before the city falls.}”

“{Your empire has been falling apart all year long. Don’t think we haven’t noticed—}”

[He was interrupted by the end of the Rune Blade being put right to his throat.]

“{I’ve heard enough. You have chosen a bitter end. Not only for yourself, but for that miserable city of cowards.}”

[Felix gave a very unimpressed expression.]

“{You’re the ones who were so desperate to terrorize a peaceful people without having to face them. Tell me, who’s the real coward? The one who stood up against a professional army to protect his family from a life of slavery, or the heavily armed soldier who ran as soon as their target started fighting back?}”

[He saw it coming, and he was faster.

Gripping the chains to hoist himself up higher, he delivered a sound kick to his captor, striking the man back with considerable force and knocking him off balance.

This only served to anger him, however—]

“{Pin him down!}”

[But Felix wasn’t at all concerned when the others held him in place, because he wasn’t done yet.]

[Felix used ECHO!]

[Before the soldier could strike, he was slammed back much more forcefully than the first time, much to the surprise and alarm of all the others present… given he hadn’t moved.]

“{I’d stop now, if I were you.}”

“{You will not live to regret that—!}”

[And Felix could sense it in the soldier, plain as day; the Life in his heart and the Death in his hands.

And feeling the chilling brutality leveled at him with complete disregard for his humanity filled him with a cold fury.

He had lived far too long playing the part of the deferential peacemaker, hiding from conflict and avoiding confrontation. Nearly two thirds of his whole life, chained to an unwillingness to stand up for himself to others who mistreated him.

And he was fed up with it.

He had been pushed around and punished for what he valued for the last time.]

[He had no hesitation at all in what he did next.]

[Felix used BANE!]

[The aggressive Djinn plowed directly into the soldier before he could strike. A dark aura of deep red consumed him, and a crippling toxicity spiked in his blood.

The blow itself had almost knocked him out entirely, but the venom that came along with it sapped his strength completely, causing him to collapse.

Of the two men restraining him further, one of them rushed over to his superior, and the other just backed away in horror.

Felix glared at them both.

Seeing one of the strongest men in Tolbi taken down so quickly did not inspire great confidence in the subordinates, and they cleared out as hastily as they could, leaving one unfortunate soul to fearfully stand guard at the door.]

“{I think I rest my case.}”

[The days passed.

He had lost all true sense of a value of time. His sense of thirst and hunger compounded, leaving a hollow void as he continued to draw energy from the earth. It was a confirmation that he was “only” unable to safely use Psynergy, but all else remained the same.

A small comfort, given how little it seemed to matter.

Time alone gave him time for thought. Too much time, really. He didn’t particularly care to stay awake; it always took less energy to stay asleep without food than awake without food.

He supposed that they had forgotten about giving him food and water when it seemed to not affect him at all; perhaps they had meant to withhold it as a means of making him weak enough to keep in hand, and realized that he could survive well enough without it.

He was certainly the least of their worries, that was for certain.]

[With all the damage he had caused, and the inability to make up for it due to a lack of sufficient resources, they would have to change their plans. They, too, had expected an easy victory; they never planned for being routed. They never thought they’d need to use so much power, let alone that it wouldn’t work. Now, they were stuck in Northern Gondowan.

They could go through the desert, perhaps, but that would be resource-intensive. (Clearly, the scouts had never returned, which told them that advancing from the south was something that would be met with resistance.) Even more so now, he had to imagine; it was said that the spirits of the desert always retaliated against those who earned their wrath, which Tolbi had done already at least once before. Going through the desert was hardly ideal.

Not impossible, but not ideal. Certainly not realistic without proper preparations, first. They may be able to hold what was left of Suhalla, but the supply chain was not fully integrated.]

[It also appeared that things were not well in the Empire; he could only assume that there were issues in the highest echelons of power. Possibly as a result of how terribly their attempted invasion had gone; he could only imagine that the failure reflected very poorly on those in charge of the affair and those who proposed it in the first place.

He really would have liked the opportunity to speak to someone who would take him seriously, but he was never given that option.

That was the worst of it all, really.

Well. That, and the crippling sense of abject despair.]

[He hadn’t felt so destitute in years. He felt utterly worthless and void of purpose; it was no small thing to be imprisoned by force by those who hated him on principle… and were eager to subject everyone else around them to suffering.

As the days went by and nothing happened, nothing changed, he began to see that even if there were any forces that would try to oppose the force stationed in the Suhalla ruins specifically, they were not successful at even coming close. It was no surprise, really; crossing the desert would surely be all but impossible, and crossing the mountains was no easy task, either. Sure, there were those who could get around those problems…

…but the fact he had actively chosen (for weeks, at the very least) to cut off Weyard from the Wilderness would prevent most of said people from trying.

And so, he could do nothing but wait.]

[He HAD considered how he might escape, but it was quite clear that he wasn’t strong enough to break free of the chains. They—along with the rest of the prison—were fairly new. (This suggested they might have been made in response to the destabilization of the region over the last few years, but that was a thought for another time.) He could call upon the power of the Djinn… but such a strategy was very risky. Using Djinn would leave him weaker, and he would need their true power to get out of a situation like his. The fraction they permitted in use of Summons was connected to the power of the Adept in question, as a means of withholding power that the Adept could not physically or respectably wield. It also had traditionally been restricted to something beyond the purely physical plane… as far as his experiences had shown, at any rate.

Granted, he had never actually tried to call upon the power of the spirits with the purpose of unleashing pure destruction. He had to suspect that it would be unwise to do so, for the spirits cared little for the conflicts of Man.]

[This left only one option he could see: taking advantage of an opportunity that finally resulted in him being freed from the shackles.

The main problem was that he couldn’t see any reason for them to do this as long as he appeared to be stronger than they could handle.

The second problem was that their possible reasons for doing so all spelled a grim picture for him. If he were to fail, he would be left in a much more vulnerable state, and possibly unable to defend himself at all.

But then again, what else could he expect? There really was no ending to this that would be a happy one.]

[Upon reflection, he considered that to be his greatest error. He’d grown overly optimistic after the last few years of happiness.

It hadn’t been a perfect happiness, to be sure, but it had been his. He had worked very hard and finally started to heal… to heal and to grow.

And he had therefore started to truly believe that it was indeed possible for him to be at peace—to be at peace, to be happy, to succeed, to be worth anything at all.

He’d had a role, once. An important role. A role that demanded sacrifice, that held people together in a time of great distress. He had protected others, he had served them.

But now?

Now he was nothing. It hadn’t been enough.

He hadn’t been wrong about his own power.

He’d just failed to foresee the depths to which tyrants would sink to obtain power.

And he would pay the price for that.]

There was one exchange, however, that stood out above all the rest, and continues even now to echo in his mind and heart.

“{So that’s it, huh? You fancy yourself to bed with the jewel of Gondowan?}”

[Felix pressed his mouth into a thin line.]

“{When we march through the city, she’ll be taken captive like all the rest. She’ll be made into the whore of the Karagol, imprisoned until her beauty has faded and she no longer satisfies for pleasurable deeds. She’ll be fed naked to beasts for all the empire to see. And who knows. A young, fit man such as yourself… perhaps we’ll do the same to you.}”

[Some of the others laughed at this, but Felix could not hide the burning rage in his eyes.

He hadn’t wanted to kill someone this badly in a long, long time. He’d wanted to instill the fear of death as soon as several years ago, but this? No. He wanted to kill the man, then and there.

He could best any one of them in open combat. And they knew it. The only way they could win was by trying to keep him chained down.

But even that would not be enough to stop him, really.]

“{Nothing to say?}”

“{Plenty.}”

“{Really now? Go on, entertain us with your laughable denial.}”

“{Denial?}”

“{Still think you have a way out of this, don’t you? You just can’t see that your time in power is over. Now, we will make sure that all those who knew you—all those who looked to you and followed your commands—are brought to swift justice and punished for sowing chaos in word and deed.}”

“{You’re taking a terribly arrogant position for someone who had to resort to cowardly ploys in order to stand a chance against a singular pair of people.}”

[That earned him a stinging lash to the face.]

“{We won, you worthless filth! You will pay the consequences for daring to attempt to obstruct our peaceful path to the Eastern Sea!}”

”Tch! {Peaceful? I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that ‘arson’ and ‘murder’ had such a strange translation in your imperial speech.}”

[Another strike.]

“{You will never walk free again. All this show you put on of having won somehow is an absolute disgrace. Not that one could expect anything else from the likes of you…}”

“{You know, repeatedly sneering a mantra of insults and threats isn’t going to change what actually happened.}”

“{By the gods, you really are that stupid, aren’t you? How did you ever end up in charge of those pathetic drones?}”

[Felix snorted at this.]

“{As if I’d tell you that story.}”

“{Well, it won’t matter. You’ll go down as the worst agitator to ever pervert the affairs of our people, the most scandalously terrible and corrupt creature to ever disgrace Weyard’s soil.}”

“{You say that as if you haven’t been slandering my name for decades.}”

“{You are responsible for terrible crimes, and you will face justice for them! Accept your defeat!}”

“{Perhaps if you had legitimately overpowered me and enslaved those I protected—in open combat—then I would be forced to admit I was not strong enough to defend them from the likes of you.}”

“{We HAVE overpowered you. Even YOU should know THAT.}”

[Felix laughed briefly at that.]

“{Are you seriously telling your men such lies for ego? Pathetic.}”

[Another strike, but it didn’t strip the grin off Felix’s face.]

“{Your so-called ‘victory’ was to prey upon a man exhausted of energy spent turning back some of the worst tyrants the modern world has ever seen—you failed to take the Lighthouse, and you failed to take the city! You have failed miserably, and your only way to counter your ruination was to seize power in the dark of night with sufficient speed as to confound those who had deterred you!}”

“{Your deranged claims are blatantly a sign of your brutish madness. Such flailings amount to nothing! You cannot stop us now; you just deluded yourself into refusing to accept the truth!}”

“{What did I just say? Repeating your lies will not change what actually happened.}”

“{And denying what happened will not change the truth! You lost. Stop wasting everyone’s time and stirring up discontent by falsely claiming you have won! You’re the one who was captured!}”

“{Temporarily.}”

“{Oh, you think you’re getting out of this? That’s rich.}”

“{I do know that you can’t hold me here forever, and you won’t be able to force me to leave.}”

“{We’ll drag you out of the city in chains if you insist on being dramatic.}”

“{And he’ll probably still be raving about his alleged ‘victory’, too…}”

“{Tell me. You set out to overtake the city and force the people into submission, correct?}”

“{Stop playing the martyr. That land belongs to the Tolbi Empire; we arranged to build the roads, to build the lighthouse—}”

“{The blasphemy that was Babi Lighthouse was torn asunder YEARS ago. Just answer the question.}”

“{We are aware of what you and that scheming woman have done to unravel the work we put into bringing the ungrateful populace into the civilized world. And that’s the first thing we’ll fix, once we get there.}”

“{Answer the question.}”

[Another strike.]

“{We set out to take back what belonged to us and bring justice to those who have acted to undermine the unity of the empire!}”

“{Right then. Your delusions aside, your goals as outlined failed miserably. Each and every one of them. You didn’t seize control, let alone with the ease and glory you had the hubris to convince yourselves would grant you absolute power. I defeated all of you AND shredded what power you were counting on using to oppress the rest of the continent into submission. Even with all your cowardly attempts to undermine, you still failed to conquer—}”

[The last thing he saw was the crazed rage in the other man’s eyes.]

Even though he managed to escape by overpowering the soldiers when they freed him from the wall as part of the process of taking him to a place of execution—further turning the ruins of Suhalla into rubble in the process of bringing down his Judgment—

The next, cold chapter of his terrible fate still awaited him.

<<—Previous——————Flare of the Morning Star——————Next—>>

[forbidden-creepypasta]

Rosaline

ghost written by anonymous. Permission has been given to put this on the main site. _____________________________ When I was a little girl, on my 7th birthday my parents brought home a beautiful porcelain doll. She wore an elegant pink Victorian dress with a ruffled hoop skirt and a floral wide-brim hat. She had long curly brown hair and bright blue eyes and I was in absolute love with her. Her name was Rosaline, and wherever I went, she went for the next year or so. Then my next birthday came, and Christmas, and every relative seemed to want to buy me dolls. I’d have tea parties, because that’s what little girls did, right? And I’d play with all the dolls because I was taught I was supposed to cherish gifts and so I tried to love them all equally. And I did. I loved all of my dolls, and they literally lined every shelf and bureau in my room. Then one morning my mama walked into my room holding the mutilated remains of one of my dolls and began drilling me and yelling and screaming and shaking me. She must’ve fussed at me for at least ten or fifteen minutes before I could convince her that I hadn’t shattered my doll. At that point I’m still not sure she believed me, but she seemed to be giving me the benefit of the doubt and left me alone. Perhaps the dog, Sheba, had gotten into my room and used it as a plaything in the night, who knows? That was the only explanation as my only sibling, an older brother, was off in college at the time. I was a bit terrified to touch any of my dolls after that, worried that I’d mishandle or break them, so I left them all sitting just where they were for the next few months until family came to visit, and my Uncle Richard brought me a Susie doll. She was cute, modern, fashionable, and plastic. I didn’t have to be terrified that I’d unknowingly drop and break her, so for the next week she and I were inseparable. Then one morning my mama woke me up screeching that I could’ve burnt the house down. Apparently my Susie doll had been placed on the stove and was melted to one of the front eyes. Well however long her first screaming session lasted, this one lasted three times as long, and my daddy, usually quiet and passive when it came to discipline, chipped in to scold me as well. By that evening every doll was cleaned out of my room and hidden “far away from little hands” as my mother put it. I cried a lot that day, but not because they’d taken my dolls away so much as because my I seriously thought my parents hated me. They looked at me like I was a criminal, and I’d never felt so alone in my life. The barrenness of my room only helped intensify that feeling. Then one day I awoke to find Rosaline lying in the bed next to me and my heart almost leaped out of my chest I was so happy. I hugged her, and nuzzled her, and to this day I’m certain I heard a muffled moan or coo of some sort that wasn’t my own. I was confused for a moment but I was easily distracted by how relieved I felt that Mama or Daddy (I really suspected Daddy) had forgiven me enough to give me my old favorite doll back. Then as she did each morning, Mama came in to wake me and her eyes lit up with rage when she saw that I had Rosaline again. She stomped over, snatched it up and stormed out of the room to confront Daddy. As it turned out, my father claimed he didn’t do it, and then they suspected that I must’ve figured out where he’d hidden the dolls and sneaked to get her out. I really must’ve appeared to be a criminal mastermind to them at the time, but if I had done anything, I didn’t recall a bit of it. He put the dolls back and instructed me I wasn’t to step foot in the garage unless he specifically asked me to, and I agreed. He even went so far as to go to the hardware store and get a padlock to put on the door. Nonetheless however, the next morning I woke up with Rosaline beside me yet again. The padlock on the garage door remained undisturbed, and my parents were absolutely flabbergasted, but clearly exhausted from scolding me, they simply let her stay. I was eleven when my parents finally left me home during the day one Saturday afternoon without a babysitter. I still had my Rosaline doll (as neglected as she was), but I was a pretty big couch potato at that time and I’d just sit there all afternoon watching Lamb Chop’s sing-along or Ghostwriter, or whatever old movies were on the Fox Afternoon Theater. The TV had failed to interest me so I went back to my room to read, and that’s when I heard soft footsteps in the house somewhere. I got up and went to investigate when I saw Sheba lying on the carpet looking all sad. Feeling a bit lonely and frightened, I had her follow me back to my room, but as we got to the door she froze up and whined. I looked into my room and saw nothing but my Rosaline doll sitting on my bed, even though I hadn’t slept with her for years. She seemed to be staring at the doll, refusing to come in, and that’s when I put two and two together. All along I had assumed Sheba had been playing with my dolls and destroying them, but I’d never once seen Sheba come into my room. The next time I got a chance to talk to Mama I asked her what she’d done with all my other dolls and she said she’d given them away to Goodwill, so I asked her to do the same with Rosaline. She seemed extremely confused by this, and in retrospect I understand that she thought I was in love with that doll, but that next Monday she went down to Goodwill and gave Rosaline away. On my twelfth birthday, when we were preparing to move (my father had gotten a promotion that required him to move out of town) my grandpa gave me a doll. Long, curly brown hair, bright blue eyes, ruffled hoop skirt. It was Rosaline again. Just before we moved I took my daddy’s shovel, ran into the back yard and buried her in a shallow grave. Part of me knew I was being paranoid--it couldn’t possibly have been the same Rosaline doll--but for the most part I was relieved to be free from her. Since then life has been wonderful…save for a few bad relationships and series of recurring nightmares of being buried alive--tasting the dirt in my mouth even just after waking up--I’ve been just fine. Last year the boyfriend Jack and I, who have been living together for a couple of years now, made a baby. I named her Allison, and we brought her into this world just this past February. She was beautiful: a thin mat of blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a smile that warmed your heart. Then a week after we brought her home from the hospital I found her face down in her crib (I never put her on her stomach, ever) dead. Now they think I had postpartum depression. They think I smothered her, even Jack thinks so. They say I blanked it out, didn’t remember it because I didn’t want to. But it wasn’t me, it was Rosaline. I knew it the moment I walked into her room that day. Her wall was filled with dolls, just about everyone at the baby shower thought Allison needed dolls, dolls and more dolls. But I checked every single doll, and not one of them was a Rosaline doll. There she was, nonetheless, staring at me from the shelf amongst the others with that smug grin on her face.