Solo Darkness, Dear Brother

[Kashan]

1st Summer 513 WARNING : This contains explicit language and scenes He could feel the fear, and smell it. It was evident in the way the Human's body shivered, the soft, low coos that came from her mouth. Her eyes were wide and dilated and she had perspired a river already and still more came. It was the sweat that smelt of fear, Kashan realised. Sweet and salty. He moved his hand to her face slowly. Someone had painted a small green tear drop below her left eye and he rubbed it with the thumb of his right hand. The real tears and sweat had eroded it now so it was only just about visible. As his hand moved the young woman began to hyperventilate. Her breathing quickening slowly with every passing second until she lost all control. He wondered would she scream again. No-one heard or cared the last time, no reason for them to care this time. He thought of an old philosophical saying with a new twist: "If a whore screams in the woods... " Kashan moved off her. His purple body lifting a significant weight off hers. She sighed deeply with relief and lost some of the fear. Kashan eyed her from head to toe. In truth she was beautiful, as she lay there naked. She had chestnut brown hair, tied in a ponytail, some of which was plastered to her face by sweat. She had deep blue eyes in which you could see infinity against her pale skin. In her eyes he thought he could see the joy of youth and purity also, or at least a hint of them. They had shone through not one hour hence, he was sure. How proud her father must be of her, his little angel. She had a tight mouth that had grown tighter since her last screaming session and high cheekbones that, no doubt, had drawn eager looks from lonely boys. His eyes scanned down to her lithe body. She had small, soft breasts. It was clear that they were still growing. He stroked her pale skin. It seemed to absorb the darkness. There were rumblings in his body. He would take her again, they both knew. As his eyes continued their feast past her abdomen, which moved in and out in a steady, slow rhythm now, he noticed something on the ground: blood, mixed with some of his seed. He grinned as he thought again, "Oh how proud her father must be". "There's a first time for everything", he said in a deep growling Tukant timbre that he had practiced, as he took a swig from his water skin. There was no need for her to know that there was only water in there. Suddenly, he dropped to knees, one on either side of her legs, and threw his water skin to the ground. He entered her and she screamed, just as she had done before. Her heart rate rose considerably as she clawed at his hard, muscled body. Kashan's mouth formed a grin that could be considered evil by the ignorant and blind. The dark brother was alive and no-one would be spared. He would rule the world.

[Kashan]

The road had gone south, then east. South from the Suvan Sea and through the Grass. After some time the Drykas had found his trail and hounded him. It was clear that they didn't want him in their country. He struggled along for days and nights he couldn't keep track of with no time to stop in order to eat or drink and little time for sleep. Even when he had to make water he had no time stop, soiling himself as he traveled. His saving grace was that he stuck to the well worn path that he remembered when he came the other way. He thought as long as he showed no aggression towards the horselords they would not bother him and to a certain extent that was true. They loosed a few warning arrows that clipped him here and there but none drew blood. They made their wishes clear without showing themselves. After a time the road forked. Suffering from exhaustion and dehydration and being hunted like the animal he was, Kashan didn't care. He put no thought into which track he took. It followed soon after that the Drykas began to move away. They started to leave him alone and he gained courage from that, picking up his pace. He managed to find water to bathe in and fill his depleted water skin. After a time the green grass gradually faded and trees started appearing, shooting from the ground like towers. Kashan remembered these strange creatures from his childhood. He would sit on the cliff-face beside the Bluevein River where Riverfall looked out across the Suvan Sea. On a clear summer day he could see where the blue of the sea met the green of the land. All he could pick out were glimpses of shadows. The distance made them look small but they still just about visible: brown as they rose from the ground and green at the top. He asked his father what they were, what was across the sea. Kashan was told that it was not for him to worry about, that if he was lucky he would never have to see that place. He set himself a personal goal to explore that alien world. This was the first time that he had seen trees so close and suddenly they were real. In his mind he had reached that land across the sea, how was he to know that he was a Sea of Grass and more away from the jungles of Falyndar. With these thoughts his childhood began to flow through his mind like a stream. He could see his father's face and hear his voice. There were memories of swimming with his sister in the many pools of Riverfall. The swell of the Bluevein as it crashed over the side of cliff and into the sea. His left hand moved to the ring on his right one. He traced the heart and the wings with his finger and longed to hear again the voices of the ones that he had loved and left. The flow stopped as quickly as it had started. Lives are not meant to be relived, there is a weakness in that and nothing is worse than weakness. He moved along the path, deeper and deeper into the forest and a great tiredness came over him. At the edge of the path he collapsed, still in his clothes. He slept and he slept and awoke one evening just as a young human on the crest of womanhood struggled along the track. She was clearly not meant to be alone but for some reason she was. As darkness fell upon the land, a darkness settled upon his soul. Akajia brought him life and Akajia brought him night, and, to his mind, Akajia brought him prey.

[Kashan]

The girl lay on the ground whimpering but Kashan didn't notice. He was sitting down, propped against a tree, his head in his hands. He was tense all over and sweating. His soul was torn. He cursed Akajia and begged her forgiveness all in the same breath. She was his creator, his destroyer; his tormentor and his mother. He asked Wysar, his father, for strength to overcome his gift and his curse. It was this double edged sword that made him feel this pain. A pain that other races couldn't comprehend. Not the Human that lay at his feet, or the winged Zith who used their slaves for pleasure. These creatures could never know the torture, the mental anguish, when brothers meet and do battle. The pain cut him down the middle and he screamed aloud. A deep roar that came from the bottom of his lungs and emanated far and wide. It could shake the trees and the ground and rip the world apart, it could level mountains and dethrone kings. The hurt became unbearable. No amount of muscle could defend against such mental stress as it could against a blade. He got to his feet violently. His skin was the same dark purple as it always was but his eyes contained a fire that saw nothing. Again he roared. The girl looked up at him through wide, scared eyes. This was the perfect time to leave, to run away and never look back. She couldn't. Her legs would not work, neither did she have the willpower nor the courage. So she lay on the ground and watched this rare sight, petrified. Kashan wished for a blade, or any sharp instrument. He had learned that a physical hurt could lessen the mental for a moment, but only for a moment. He could take any physical pain over souls colliding. There are some pains that other races never feel. He doubled over and fell to the ground. He no longer had the strength to stand. And as he lay there dying he began to cry. It was the awkward, uncomfortable sound of a man who is not used to doing such things. The light brother pitied those men who cried, the dark brother despised them. It was a form of weakness and neither could accept weakness, especially not in themselves. And so he cried, until he fell into a deep and troubled sleep all the while wishing for death to take him. A monster and a coward such as him does not deserve to live. He woke up in a daze. He could feel a slow, soft thump against the front of his head. The torture of the small hours already forgotten, just a lingering feeling remained. He didn't know where he was either. He raised his head and looked around. He was lying on a track of dirt. Around him the green trees shined and basked in the afternoon sun. A beautiful day by all accounts. The smell of fresh summer grass and the sound of birds chirping happily drifted towards him, though he noticed neither. Nor did he hear the caravan train moving up behind until they were on top of him. A small man walked towards him. He had untrusting eyes and gesticulated in a language Kashan could barely understand. He picked out a word here and there to identify it as the common tongue. The man stood with his arms crossed, looking impatient and not at all pleased with this turn of events. "Where... me?". Kashan asked the question in a weary tone, as if the answer didn't matter. He was clearly uncertain of the words. They felt strange on his tongue. The caravan master looked at him, his patience was dwindling. "Where am I", he said, pronouncing each syllable as if the very words offended him. "Where... am... I", Kashan echoed the man. "Damn foreigners", the man said. "Don't even bother to learn the petching language". He gently eased Kashan to the side of the road and beckoned his caravan through. Kashan followed them slowly and cautiously as they made their way to the city of Syliras.