Spark
Tenebrous
"In the Deep Halls, far from Men
Forsaken Red Mountain, twisted Kin
Hail the Mind, hail the Stone
Dwarven Pride, stronger than Bone."
--Dwemer Inquiries; The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
The animal ran. From somewhere, the animal ran from one world to another. It had awakened from a world only identified by fire, pain and a duty to wait.
To wait, for him. To wait, however long it took, however cold it had been in that other world, the duty was to wait. And now, the wait was over. One duty had been exchanged for another.
The duty now, was to run.
She was She. That was all that was known. She was She, and her duty was to run, to find this new destination. Immaterial she seemed at first, relying on a distant call. An echo.
Carry we...
?Spark, ignite!?
the words were wanted, desired, needed. The words were whispered above him and roared with the mightiest of thunder. He lay only partially solid in the grasp of hands he only partially knew. He knew his Mentor. He was beginning to know the others ? the Mistress of Night and the Elven-esque fellow who stood tall and slender, yet still as stone. Confident, yet cool and utterly detached.
Others began to join in this not-solid place of growing Untime. He listened to them all as well as he could, as his limits were explored. Beings he barely knew probed where once, only he alone went. Hands held, where once he had been left to drop.
?Spark, ignite!?
Tenebrous
?Spark, ignite!?
Voices echoed to him across the things he hadn't touched or tasted in years. Men called to him, warning of icebergs in the sea, raging against fire and destruction. Songs came back to him, with the idea of taloned fingers dancing across lute strings. An alarm blared somewhere, preceded by a battle he could never take part in.
One by one, the past, the present and the future mingled into an incomprehensible muddle of what was, what shouldn't have been, and what might be.
?Spark, ignite!?
He was Tenebrous, yet these here accepted him. Welcomed him. The metallic surface upon which he lay seemed to curl in like fingers grasping him. Holding him. Protecting him. Supporting him. He couldn't speak, yet his mute mouth called for his Mentor.
?We are here, Tenebrous Spark.?
?Sweet child, sweet Tenebrous child.?
The voices drifted in and out. For a while, he had a strange sensation of running, of something or someone running, seeking. Searching. That time was of the essence, somehow.
He fell into an uneasy almost-sleep, his mind filled with dreams of things he had never known.
Tenebrous
"In the Deep Halls, far from Men
Forsaken Red Mountain, twisted Kin
Hail the Mind, hail the Stone
Dwarven Pride, stronger than Bone."
--Dwemer Inquiries; The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
The animal ran. From somewhere, the animal ran from one world to another. It had awakened from a world only identified by fire, pain and a duty to wait.
To wait, for him. To wait, however long it took, however cold it had been in that other world, the duty was to wait. And now, the wait was over. One duty had been exchanged for another.
The duty now, was to run.
She was She. That was all that was known. She was She, and her duty was to run, to find this new destination. Immaterial she seemed at first, relying on a distant call. An echo.
Carry we...
?Spark, ignite!?
the words were wanted, desired, needed. The words were whispered above him and roared with the mightiest of thunder. He lay only partially solid in the grasp of hands he only partially knew. He knew his Mentor. He was beginning to know the others ? the Mistress of Night and the Elven-esque fellow who stood tall and slender, yet still as stone. Confident, yet cool and utterly detached.
Others began to join in this not-solid place of growing Untime. He listened to them all as well as he could, as his limits were explored. Beings he barely knew probed where once, only he alone went. Hands held, where once he had been left to drop.
?Spark, ignite!?
Tenebrous
?Spark, ignite!?
Voices echoed to him across the things he hadn't touched or tasted in years. Men called to him, warning of icebergs in the sea, raging against fire and destruction. Songs came back to him, with the idea of taloned fingers dancing across lute strings. An alarm blared somewhere, preceded by a battle he could never take part in.
One by one, the past, the present and the future mingled into an incomprehensible muddle of what was, what shouldn't have been, and what might be.
?Spark, ignite!?
He was Tenebrous, yet these here accepted him. Welcomed him. The metallic surface upon which he lay seemed to curl in like fingers grasping him. Holding him. Protecting him. Supporting him. He couldn't speak, yet his mute mouth called for his Mentor.
?We are here, Tenebrous Spark.?
?Sweet child, sweet Tenebrous child.?
The voices drifted in and out. For a while, he had a strange sensation of running, of something or someone running, seeking. Searching. That time was of the essence, somehow.
He fell into an uneasy almost-sleep, his mind filled with dreams of things he had never known.