Her earliest memories were of him
holding her hand and guiding her when she most needed guidance. When
she failed at a task or became confused or hurt, he was always there
with a reassuring word, a comforting touch on the shoulder, or simply
a pair of ears to hear her childish complaints. It was ironic that it
would not be until long after her death that Beckyann would most come
to appreciate what it had meant to have a father during the difficult
years of her childhood, when poverty was a specter that loomed over
every aspect of their lives.
She sat upon a charred beam, her
runeblade propped beside her and her head in her hands as she
contemplated this fact. Here in the former ruins of the home she'd
lived in as a child, she could most remember what it was like to be
that little girl again, to be alive and hopeful for the future and an
end to the troubles that their little family had faced. It was here
that her father's love and strength pushed them onward time and
again, even when it all seemed hopeless and Beckyann or her mother
felt like giving up.
Beckyann raised her head from her
hands, studying the diseased black fluids that covered her flesh.
She'd been crying for a while now, hours it seemed, alone in the
night-shrouded ruins of Corin's Crossing. There were malevolent
spirits in the structures around her, she could feel them as they
could surely feel her, but they knew better than to approach a Death
Knight in the throes of...well, whatever it was she was going
through.
She sniffled, brackish black globs of
ooze in her nose going down her throat as she wiped at her tear
streaked face. When she cried it was impossible to keep the rot and
decay that was entrapped beneath the thin veneer of her exterior from
showing itself, and she was quite a horror to behold at the moment.
She didn't care however; for her tears were not tears of sorrow, but
a bittersweet mixture of happiness and relief that she was having a
difficult time processing. It was never easy for a Death Knight to
experience affection or emotional connection to others, and for
Beckyann it was even harder as she had intentionally walled herself
off for so long, and only in the past year had she begun to allow
such things to creep in once more.
There was no denying it though, as far
as Beckyann was concerned she had a father in undeath as she'd had in
life, and that father was her General, Redamous.
She smiled in the darkness, the glow of
her eyes the only light within the ruins. Looking around her, she
shook her head as conflicting emotions bombarded her. She should feel
horror and sorrow to be sitting here in the state she was in, and yet
the memories of the house were mostly only happy ones; her family had
passed long before she became what she was now or the Scourge had
even rose up. Combined with the relief she felt after Lady Raven's
ritual had been completed, she had this bubbling happiness within her
that made her weepy and made the initiates in the Ebon Hold look at
her askance. And so she'd come here to sort things out.
Red is alive. He's alive and whole
again in his original state. He's returned to us fully, and will be
there to guide us, to show us the right course through the difficult
times ahead.
She knew the
thought to be true without question. Red had been there for her
through the most difficult personal challenges she'd faced in her
undead state. He was a rock to stand upon, the wall at her back when
enemies rose up all around her, the tome containing the knowledge she
most desperately needed. Only one other time in her existence had she
felt that way, and that was when her father held her hand as a little
girl and explained the mysteries of the world or drove away the
things that scared her in the night. Her confidence in him was
absolute and unwavering, as constant as the tides or the rise and
setting of the sun.
She smiled again,
wiping at her face and shaking her head. The others had seen her
crying. They'd seen her unseemly outburst of affection and scoffed at
it. It didn't matter, because for once she was actually able to feel
something again, to know that she still had the ability to care for
friends and those she considered family. She had felt true dread when
Lady Raven began the ritual, knowing she might lose Red forever, and
she'd felt the thrilling surge of relief when he spoke his first
words after it was complete.
Beckyann rose from
where she sat, taking up her runeblade and studying it for a moment,
letting the swirling emotions within her settle as she accepted them
for what they were. It had been a difficult night indeed, but deep
down she knew that it had fundamentally changed her; the person she
once was still lingered on within her, despite the monster that was
wrapped around that woman's spirit now.
With a grin she
sheathed her blade and headed for one of the gaping holes in the
walls of the burned shack that had once been her home, one thought
lingering in the back of her mind. The others could scoff at her all
they liked; they could poke fun at her friendship with and loyalty to
Red as much as they wanted. She would tolerate all of that, but Light
help anyone who ever EVER attempted to harm him as he'd been harmed
again.
For the person that
did would come to know the full force of the person that Beckyann
Eastberg once was; the willful woman who had died for her country in
the most horrific way possible. They would come to see what her fury
could unleash if they were foolish enough to touch her General again.
She would make them hurt like she'd hurt when she'd thought him taken
from her.
In the darkness of
Corin's Crossing, several of the wild spirits still lingering there
withdrew as they felt the malice of the woman who once called the
place home flow out of her like a pocket of energy. They watched
warily in the darkness as she stalked away, the shrill neighing of
her undead steed fading into the night as she mounted and rode back
towards Acherus.
No comments:
Post a Comment