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Xeransis
On the day she was born, the sun turned black. Among the
screams of the superstitious, another scream was heard;
blood-curdling, terrifying in it’s intensity. The moment
that the moon passed before the sun, refusing to allow any light
to escape, the loudest scream could be heard coming from the one
room shack on the edge of the village. So horrible was the sound
that villagers came to believe that the woman from which it came
must be battling Hades himself. Abruptly the scream ceased. It
did not die down as most screams do, but ended so that images of
the woman laying in the bed with her face still contorted by the
throws of the scream came to the minds of the villagers. Indeed,
they were correct, as the woman’s face was frozen in death
at the moment her heart ceased its beating. Her countenance
twisted in terror, eyes wide in fright of whatever her last
horrid visions were, lips stretched thin and nose pinched, she
died.
There was silence. The silence seemed to stretch into long
minutes to all whom remembered that day, yet it was in fact only
a mere few seconds. As the villagers were themselves frozen in
fear, the shrill cry of a small babe erupted from the stillness,
breaking the strange silence and urging the villagers to move
once again.
A few villagers rushed to the small hut only to be brought up
short by the somberness of the family that had gathered there.
The door opened and a young woman motioned for the strong, burly
man, once a husband, now a widower and a father, to come inside.
The door was closed behind them and whispers were all that could
be heard as the babe had long since ended its strong wailing.
Moments later the man emerged from the shack. With candle light
illuminating around him, he looked to some as he stood in the
doorway, a god who had come down from the heavens to save them
all from some horrible disaster. As everyone looked to him
expectantly, he spoke but three words, softly, somberly.
"They are dead." With that he turned and disappeared
into the frail hut, his home. As the moon slowly moved away from
the sun, another scream could be heard, a guttural cry full of
pain and despair. It, too, was abruptly ended when the strong
man, highly respected and loved in the village, fell upon his own
sword, thus bringing to an end his painful life.
The moon slowly moved away from the sun, allowing light to
warm the lands again. Nothing however, could warm the hearts of
the villagers, as a fierce chill had taken hold of each of their
souls, holding them hostage for the rest of their days.
Xeransis was raised in Britain by a tailor and a knight. The
small family was loved and respected by all whom knew them, and
even Lord British himself favored the family with special smiles
and nods when he was seen traveling the streets of the great
city.
The woman whom Xeransis called Mother was a small, beautiful,
soft-spoken woman. She was quick with a smile that lit up her
whole being, especially when she looked upon her daughter playing
some secret game with the other children in the city. She was a
brilliant tailor and seamstress, so renown that patrons traveled
from distant lands to seek out her
wares and talents.
Xeransis’ father, a fearless knight and protector of the
citizens of Britain, was a Great Lord whom when walking the
streets, many bowed to in awe and respect. Always full of
humility however, the adored fighter would chuckle and say,
"Thou art a better friend than follower. Cease this
formality and rise." They would relax, some patting him on
the back in familiar comradery while others spoke to him of the
latest rumours of monsters or murderers he had slain.
In the midst of immense love and respect, Xeransis was raised,
and to all she seemed a beautiful, happy, settled young girl whom
befriended every animal and every person whom came across her.
Only her mother ever saw the darkness that would could her eyes
at moments while she stared off into space as if some distant
voice was calling to her. The loving mother would go to the child
and gently bring the child’s innocent face and large blue
eyes up to meet her own brown ones, hoping to bring her daughter
back from whatever far away lands she was being drawn to. She
would hate herself at these moments for wondering if she had
allowed some sort of evil into her home and she would take the
child into her arms, comforting herself as much as she was her
precious daughter.
Xeransis loved animals. As a small child she delighted and
awed all by walking into the forests alone and returning with
dogs, cats, rabbits and birds trailing devotedly behind her. She
would then go to her friends and give away her pets, wanting
everyone to share in the magical love she had discovered between
human and loyal pet. Soon after, the small animals gave way to
larger, more vicious creatures, and often Xeransis would return
home bleeding and near death but with a loving, loyal grizzly
bear in tow. At the young age of fifteen, she was renown for her
taming abilities as warriors from across the land would seek her
out to tame an evil trickster dragon whom no fighter could slay.
They would offer her protection as they traveled through dark
deep caverns to enter the dragon’s lair, and even the
bravest of warriors would shudder in fear as the small, beautiful
woman would waltz right up to the fearsome beast. Gingerly she
would reach out her hand, searching its immense black eyes while
murmuring softly to it so that no one else could hear. Stead fast
she would stand even as the dragon would let loose a horrible
roar and she would chuckle at the brave warriors scattering and
running in fear as she continued her private mumurings. Moments
later the beast would accept food from young Xeransis’ hand
and turn to lick her, lavishing her with devotion. Xeransis would
giggle gleefully as she scratched her new pet’s nose and
call out to the warriors peeking around the corners that
everything was fine, it was actually a very nice dragon. Timidly
they would emerge, humiliated for showing such cowardice in front
of the gentle tamer, but in love with Xeransis for her beauty,
her bravery and her talents for taming the wildest of beasts.
Due to her travels in dungeons where the most vile creatures
lurked, Xeransis also learned to fight. Side by side she would
battle with other warriors, slaying all manner of evil creatures
that resisted her charm and taming abilities. Eventually she
earned the title of Great Lady and proudly following in her
father’s footsteps, she would travel the lands, fighting
evil and laugh with humility as other travelers bowed to her.
Venturing back to her home with magnificent dragons or drakes
unwaveringly following her, she would stop and lend assistance to
others in battle, commanding her pets to kill the evil creatures
with one breath of fire. She would always leave the monsters loot
for the others, earning her even more love and respect. She did
not do these things for those reasons however, as seeing the joy
light up the faces of those she assisted was reward enough to
her. After all, her father had taught her the ways of the virtues
even though they were easy lessons for her to learn as they
seemed to be a part of her natural being.
Xeransis enjoyed a good life and was happy in spite of the
rare moments when a darkness shrouded her soul. She was able to
easily shake off the evil feelings attempting to torture her and
return to her almost perfect life, until the fateful day when she
was asked to assist with a new kind of evil: a murderer.
The Dread Lord had been spotted hiding in the trees near the
road leading to Vesper, ambushing innocent travelers and looting
their still warm bodies. Wielding her executioners axe, her
favoured weapon, Xeransis set off with one other warrior to hunt
down the murderer and put an end to his evil for good. Using her
high tracking abilities, she ran ahead of her friend and tracked
the dreaded killer to an abandoned guard tower. Advancing on him
with her axe, she initiated the attack and bravely fought the
strong fighter hand to hand. Never did she allow herself to think
about the fact that she was killing another human being, no
matter how evil he was, until as his dying words she heard him
say, "Thou art a most beautiful and talented opponent. I am
honoured to have been slain by thee." With that, his last
breath escaped him and the man ceased to live. Standing over the
corpse looking down upon it, Xeransis was assaulted by the smell
of warm thick blood to her nostrils. The darkness she was so
familiar with hit her suddenly with more power than she had ever
felt. Fighting it and her intense hate for her actions, killing
another human being, she began cutting up the body so that she
could carry the head back to town.
With the head held safely in her pack, she studied the
dismembered body, struggling to keep the ever growing darkness
within her from ravishing her soul. She licked her lips and
breathed in the warm sweet scent of human flesh. Before she
realized what she was doing, she grabbed a dismembered leg, put
it in her pack, and ran from the corpse in terror. Safely hidden
behind a tree, she tracked to see if others were about and,
finding none, she opened her pack. Again the scent of human flesh
assaulted her and, with revulsion, she lowered her head towards
her pack and breathed in deeply. A deep pulsing pain began
spreading through her, growing with intensity until she screamed
out loud in an attempt to ease the pain pulsing like a heart beat
through her body, mind and soul. The pain continued to grow
however, until suddenly, instinctively, Xeransis scooped up the
bloodied thigh into her hands and brought it towards her face.
With her eyes shut tight and her face contorted in self-hate, she
devoured the succulent flesh, immediately easing the pain.
Opening her eyes, Xeransis looked at the clean thigh bone in her
hands and with a scream, violently thrust it away from her.
Grabbing her pack, she began running. She ran faster and faster,
pushing herself until her legs ached and threatened to collapse
and her heart beat as if it were about to explode. In exhaustion,
she fell upon the ground, breathing in the scents of the earth as
she lay in horror at what she had done.
After a time she raised her head to see that she had fallen at
the edge of a deep pond. Gathering all her will, she pulled
herself up to her hands and knees and crawled to the water’s
edge. She stared down at her own reflection looking back at her
from the water, and was terrified by what she saw. Her light blue
eyes seemed darker and murky. They were open wide and looked as
if some deep knowledge or evil hid behind them, waiting for a
chance to escape. Her fair skin was smeared with blood and dirt,
evidence of what she had done. He hair fell around her face like
tentacles of some vile creature stalking the land. Abruptly she
began splashing water on her face, frantically trying to wash the
evil off of her. Groaning like a wild beast in pain, she grabbed
a handful of leaves and began scrubbing her skin until it tingled
with tenderness. Turning away from her reflection, she pulled her
knees up to her chest, lowered her head towards them and wept She
wept for the woman she never was, the woman she strove to be but
would never attain. She wept for the innocence she had lost or
that she never truly had. She wept for her mother, her sweet
adoring mother and the pain her daughter would bring her. She
wept for the ridicule and disrespect her father would surely
endure, and the lessons on virtue he had taught and she had
blatantly disregarded. Most of all, she wept at the monster that
she had become.
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Stratics Central
