Topic: Dark Musings

Daniel DeAuster

Date: 2007-11-15 15:23 EST
From the vantage point atop the Marketplace clock tower Daniel gazed out at the city, crouched on the mason railing running along the top of the tower. At this height the wind was a near-constant companion, tugging at the loose mane of raven-black hair and sending it, along with the tails of the oilskin duster he had started wearing as winter approached, billowing out behind him. The lights twinkling below didn't register to the young man, as his thoughts were directed inward, running over the last few days, or what he could remember of them.

Saturday night had ended in disaster, at least in his opinion. A quiet evening with Tasha had turned sour with the encounter with the mage, and during that exchange his demonic side had slipped the controls that he had been building with his mother's help. Bits and pieces he could remember, his drawing of that strange energy that the young Trueblood was holding, and the ripping away of his own life-force by Veighn, and getting Tasha home afterward and she seeing the beast that he could become. Despite her words to the contrary, he was convinced that Tasha had been shocked by the sight, and it did nothing to his own thoughts of revealing himself to Kaelyn.

Trapped as he was in his own mind, he had managed to convince the demon to leave Onyx House without incident, though that dark half reveled in the energy that had been soaked up from Tasha, using it to sustain it's time in control of the body. The following evening had been a blur, though he did have the sneaking suspicion that he had been less than his usual self to his friends. Something he would have to explain the next time he saw them around. Of course, how do I explain why I was such an ass" He wanted to talk to Tasha again, now that he had regained control, but more importantly, he had to see his sister.

That was not something he was looking forward to. He didn't know how to tell Cieara without sounding like their father, something he desperately wanted to avoid. The last thing he wanted was for Cieara to think he had betrayed her. Sethar must know. Especially if she is in danger.

"I know?? He whispered, leather creaking softly as his hands slowly closed into fists over his knees. The soft voice was almost a separate entity, rather than a part of him. It didn't help when the whispers were totally counter to what he would normally hold dear, especially on the thoughts of power and attaining it. It was confusing at times, but part of his heritage. Fiona had not seemed overly concerned when he had spoken to her about it, counseling that over time he would learn to merge with that maturing aspect.

With a soft growl he pushed back the musings on that subject, to focus on the more immediate problems. The strange occurrences with Tasha, and the possible danger to the person closest to him were more pressing, and the darkness held no answers.