((Adult themes. Please be aware.))
In the darkness it was difficult to tell where she was exactly, except that she was walking. Isuelt thought she was outside, but then again, the floor felt surprisingly even and more like hard tile. The air was still; there was no breeze to speak of. The Scathachian took a deep breath and felt as if the air were more stifling than refreshing, and there was something in the scent of the air she couldn?t quite put her finger on.
?Hello?? Her voice echoed oddly again, seeming metallic. She could not sense the space around her; she had no idea if she were in a big room or a small container. It was like a vacuum. Lowering her brow, her frown settling in, she took a few steps further, suddenly noticing that she was barefoot. The floor felt wet. Her steps immediately halted. ?Is no one there?? She didn?t like this one bit. There was no control that she could claim on the situation and for her, that was sheer hell. Isuelt sighed heavily, ?Damnit?I?m dreaming, I know I?m dreaming??
?Is that it then?? A deep voice in the darkness inspired her to swing around, grabbing at her hips for blades that were not to be found. ?That?s all there is? You say you?re dreaming and this all goes away??
Isuelt?s toes fought with the ground for support, whatever she was standing in was slick.
?And you don?t have your weapons here. You don?t need them.? She could hear the mirth in his voice.
?You?re ****ing right I don?t need them.? Her bravado was showing, she knew that she was a weapon when the time called for it. Though she may not have been as confident as she wanted to sound.
That deep, echoing laughter slicing through right to her spine. ?Always so quick to battle. Always so eager for a fight. Even when you are so completely out of your realm. It?s one of the things that makes you so fascinating, one of the qualities that I cannot get enough of from you. You are a work of art, Isuelt Blwythe??
Her breath caught in her throat and for a split second she thought she recognized that voice, though she hadn?t heard it in over three decades. ?Father??
?Yes.? Even in the darkness, Isuelt could see the widening of a predatory grin. ?Yes, I am your father in so many ways, my child. I give you purpose. I give you worth. I give your life meaning. And unlike your earthly father, I will never leave you.?
Isuelt?s toes were beginning to stick to the floor. She moved them as slightly as she could to free them from the slick liquid. ?You?re not my father.? She was more intrigued than defiant.
?And you think this is how you solve things, isn?t it, Isuelt?? He shuffled in the darkness, moving to some other location in the room. Isuelt turned, relying heavily on her ears for any sound of breathing or movement. Still, she couldn?t quite locate him. ?You think you declare?no, decree
things and they automatically come to pass? You think that this world bends to your will? Well, it doesn?t. It bends to mine.? He moved ever closer, of that she was sure. ?Nothing in this realm happens that I don?t want to happen.? Closer still. ?Nothing that you?ve done will just float away or disappear, or cease to be true just because you wish it so.?
Isuelt?s nose picked up the scent of smoke, her nostrils flared as she turned her head to the right. His voice was nearly in her ear and she could feel his hot breath on her shoulder. Her eyes still endeavored to pierce the darkness that fell before her like a thick curtain.
?All of those lives you took. Every single one of them. Those souls scream for your demise. And I do not only speak of those enemies you so bravely met on the battlefields. The innocent lives that you stole when you murdered your victims in cowardly back alleys, behind brothels, in the streets and in their own beds??
The Scathachian swallowed as he spat her past into her face on the heels of fiery words. She began to shake her head. She had tried to straighten her life out, ever since she had come to Rhydin, she had taken the straight and narrow path of righteousness. She had tried to bury her past as deeply as she could.
?No, you own your savage ways, your vicious past! Do not deny it! You cannot!? His breath was like a hot oven searing her skin, yet she still could not see him. ?And your so-called Scathachian Sisters, the whorish lot. How many of your sworn Sisters did you lead to their deaths? HOW MANY DID YOU LEAVE BEHIND?? The volume with which he spoke pushed her down. ?THEIR BLOOD IS ON YOUR HANDS!?
Isuelt landed on her backside, her hands splaying out to try and catch herself, but they slipped and smeared on the liquid floor. Only then, as she looked down to her hands, did she finally see where she was. The Scathachian Sanctuary?s Temple on Rhydin; the floor was covered an inch deep in blood. And as she looked up from her dripping hands, she saw the shadowed face of Bhaal leering down at her, seeming to grow in size as he loomed above her, his thunderous voice shaking her soul. ?YOU MURDERING WHORE! YOU ARE MY OWN PROGENY AND YOU NEVER EVEN REALIZED IT!? His black horns cut a sharp contrast to the white marble columns behind him, his shoulders were impossibly broad and Isuelt saw no possible escape as his body came crashing down upon hers.
Her legs and arms had no traction in the blood, Isuelt was not able to kick out or roll away, his weight was too much. The pressure of Bhaal?s form against hers was insurmountable. She was so crushed by him, she could only squeak out a few words, ?Sh?anadh?m??t??ainm?Scathach?? *
?Your past makes you my bride and like a bride I will take you and make you mine for all eternity. You are a murderer and therefore my follower. You are mine, Isuelt of Shadow. And deep in your blood-stained soul, you know it.?
The pain that Isuelt felt ripping through her body was as white hot as her rage and as stifling as her fear. She was bathed in blood, from above and below, she reeked of it. And perhaps he was right. Her past was so muddled, so dark, so bloody? Perhaps it was the heat of his body, or perhaps it was her red-hot shame, but the floor felt as if it was beginning to boil, to burn. She could feel her skin blistering as she screamed with all of her might, her own voice rattling in her throat.
All at once everything stopped. Bhaal disappeared, the darkness lifted, the blood was gone. Isuelt was on her back on the cold marble floor of the Temple, staring up at the central dome in the ceiling. She was alone and she could barely hear the crickets outside. Her breath came quickly after she?d woken from her nightmare, her heart racing. She slowly lifted her body until she was sitting up. Isuelt held her head in her hands and indulged herself in a whimper. Though it had been a dream, she pondered everything that Bhaal had said to her and the overwhelming amount of truth in it.
*I denounce you in Scathach?s name.