Of Innocence and Darkness: Kurt's Tale

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Of Innocence and Darkness: Kurt's Tale

Postby Kooky on Tue Jun 30, 2015 8:27 pm

Changes of a Lifetime

The night was cold and windy, the harsh breeze rushing in through the open windows, tattering the stretched animal hide and oiled papers that made the translucent coverings. It was the kind of wind that used sand to carve mountains and fell trees, and could blind one who dared their eyes to traverse to its depths through the darkness. The lanterns had to constantly be lighted, save for those who were manned by magic, enchanted with an unburning flame that would only die when their duration did. The elven keep was a small one, nothing official owned by a self-appointed lord who grew through the ranks and eventually, struck a claim and name for himself. Durex. He was a necromancer, and so the stench of the undead was not unknown to the keep nor was the sight of the rot-riddled corpses carrying out orders and commands. His keep had its own wall, but beyond that, Durex had amassed a small city that he likewise kept incased with thick, guarded stone walls that were lined with the skulls of the fallen and held together through mortar, tar and bone dust among the sands. He did always say his people were the backbone of his foundation. How true...

The cruelty had been leaving the elven lord though, and everyone noticed. Night after night, the young vulpine shaman Varncadia saw this. Her powerful master was becoming undone at the hands of some weak, pathetic whelp. And it wasn't even intentional! Varncadia never liked Kurt, not from the moment she found out Durex planned to let him live. Even her scrying and runes told of the newcomer who could unravel every single string in the well-strung tapestry she and Durex had designed for lifetimes. In the first year of Kurt's life, she had noted the change in her Durex. He had gone from sadistic and cruel, to considerate... He had his dark charms at times, but near that boy, he was a different fellow.

Varncadia had called upon the spirits for help, locked up in her tower, fingers plucking the blood-laden strings of her dragonbone harp. Imagine her shock when there was a knock on her door, and that sniveling little androgynous voice of Kurt squeaked a hello. Her teeth grit, a wrong chord plucked in a horrid screech, her silver black-tipped ears flattening to her skull.

"What do YOU want?" Varncadia hissed, her dislike for Kurt ever apparent when Durex was not near. And her locater enchantment on the pendant of her collar said he was not.

"I.. I wanted to talk to you.." The door was pressed open gently, and there, a younger 16yr old Kurt stood. His hair was short, clothing identifying him as a male. he had his father's very fair high-elven features. It was really hard to tell what gender he was, even as he spoke.. but his actions and clothing said male. "Varncadia.. why do you hate me so much?.. Father's out at ceremony.. so.. it's just us.." He stepped into the room, closing the door gently behind him. The last thing that the kindly boy wanted was to get Varncadia in trouble.

The silver-fox snarled at Kurt, standing as her harp was set aside, its bloodied strings dripping downward against her spread tarot deck, knocked to the floor in her anger. "You really need to know? Listen child, for that is what I will call you. It's all that you are. Some gender-confused little mess of a pup. Your so-called father is a great, respectable man, one who carried great strengths and not a single show of weakness in this land.. until the likes of you."

Kurt flinched, Varncadia's spit hacked and hitting into his cheek, "Wh-what did I ever do?.." His voice was soft and calm, as he lacked the wolven anger that made red eyes flare. He was a gentle soul, who only saw the mess the vulpine had made, and knelt down before her to help clean it up.

"You brat! What did you do? You were born!!" Varncadia was so angered because he was that naive.. innocent... She hated him, hated his voice.. and hated his kindness. "Do you even know what's normal for children? No, I suppose not. You get tossed away and abandoned! Taken in to clean and serve, and be decorative little ornaments if you're lucky or a street rat struggling to survive. But not you. Oh no Kurt, not you. You get to grow up among divided houses where you're for some reason actually loved and cared about, to thrive, to read and learn, to be ignorant to how every other single lifeform fucking lives! And then.. in two years, when you're old enough for your father to find you a suitor, you know what? You get to live happily ever fucking after! And you're a fucking halfbreed! Halfbreeds like you are only good for fucking and slavery. If even that. This.. this pathetic happy little life you're living isn't real. It's not normal. Fathers who rape the mothers pregnant do not care for their children, let alone keep them! Mothers either!" Her own jealousy issues were quite clear, as she was born into slavery. But here Kurt had two actually loving parents, who shared him and coddled him, and even accepted his strange quirks and the fact she was certain he was cursed. "Don't touch my things!" Her foot came down hard on his hand, pressing it against the sharp harpstrings and slicing his palm open.

Kurt yelped, drawing his hand back quickly when he could and cradling it to himself. His red eyes gazed down at his palm coated in thick, black coppery-scented crimson. "I was only trying to help..." His words were soft, as such was true. "I.. I can't help that my parents love me.. I like it. Whatever happens and happened between them is on them alone. And I'm a boy.. male.. Father thinks so too."

"Durex doesn't think so! He merely caters to your whims and desires! No one thinks so. not even you are sure of what you are! How can you even be his child? You can't even swing a blade let alone have any form of magical prowess!" Varncadia hissed, smearing Kurt's blood against the harpstrings as she picked up the instrument and cards.

Kurt felt half of it was true. His mother was a wolven druid, his father an elven necromancer. And himself? Well.. he had no fighting capability despite fancying the fond false tales of knights n shining armor rescuing (not raping) damsels in distress and fighting off hoards and dragons. "You know better than to call him a liar.. If she says he thinks so.. then he does. And I may not be.. like him.. or mother... but I do have some of their features, so I'm theirs.. Varncadia, why can't we just get along?... I haven't done anything. I try to stay out of your way.. but if you keep tripping me at mealtime and using magic at ceremony, someone -will- catch you.. and... and.." he whimpered slightly, "If that happens.. Father will be angry.. at you... and.. I just.. I don't want your anger at me getting you hurt.."

"Do you even HEAR yourself Kurt?! You come in here, and I -hurt- you and I keep hurting and humiliating you, and the ONLY thing you're concerned with is if I get in trouble or punished for it?! By the gods! Where is your backbone? Have you none? Where is that wolven strength and elven pride?!" Varncadia was attracted to strength and raw power, and bit by bit, she saw this meek, pathetic halfbreed sapping it from her Master and making him weak. Her deep blue eyes flashed white, clouding over in spiritual prowess. "You know what I want Kurt.. I don't want you hurt or humiliated. I want... I want you gone... You don't belong in this world of might and power. You don't belong in my world, my life.. or Durex's." her words echoed, and the strings of the harp coated in Kurt's blood began to play on their own accord, every now and then hitting that sickening screech Varncadia had plucked prior.

"Varncadia..." Kurt whimpered, stepping back to the door, hand sliding to find the edge. Her power scared him, but he always had some semblance of trust that she wouldn't kill him.. until now.

The plucked notes of the harp strengthened, and that screeched chord was joined by a strange, deep wolven howl that billowed in through the open window. Varncadia blinked, the rolling mist in her eyes clearing away some at the howl. "What was tha--"

"VARNCADIA!" Kurt screamed out horrifically.

From behind her, large bone claws pierced through her abdomen, staining her white silken gown. It was careful to miss vital organs and veins, focusing on the sheer pain. Glowing red eyes stared Kurt down from the encroaching darkness. Deep wolven words were spoken, "Perhaps... a different life is a very good idea.." The masculine tone was familiar and yet unknown to Kurt.
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Re: Of Innocence and Darkness: Kurt's Tale

Postby Tehya on Wed Jul 01, 2015 1:56 pm

Great story especially liked the end. I am glad to see people putting their work up here to be shared with all.
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