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Nothing I've Become: Sleeping Somewhere Cold


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#1 Guest_Soris_*

Posted 20 March 2004 - 10:59 PM

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How can you see into my eyes like open doors
Leading you down into my core
Where I’ve become so numb without a soul
My spirit sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there and lead it back home

“Bring Me To Life” --Evanescence
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Nothing I’ve Become: Sleeping Somewhere Cold
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Trust is for the foolish and the dead. The Drow maxim echoed through her head as she walked through the darkened streets of the city. Or is it? She used to be so confident. She knew how life worked. Anyone who did not agree was a fool. That was before her botched sacrifice and her foolishly noble brother. She tried to push her thoughts of Valas away and had almost succeeded when another voice interceded. It was strangely familiar. She turned.

The figure before her was haggard, unkempt and covered in blood. She recoiled from the stench of pain and death. “What is the matter, my dear? I thought you would be happy to see me.” A twisted version of Soris stepped forward. Murder glinted in his eyes.

Viconia said nothing, but her eyes did not leave his. She did not step back even as he brought his foul face inches from hers.

“Oh yes,” his breath stank. “You want your pet sorcerer. He is here, somewhere. He still struggles to break free. Pathetic, don’t you think? But before I crush him utterly, I think I will give him the pleasure of hearing your dying scream. Do make it a good one.” He reached out and touched her cheek. His touch both burned and froze. The Drow’s muscles locked in place. She feared she might not be able to breathe. The dead god began to laugh, a hollow, dead sound. “You are nothing, little Drow. Powerless. This will be even easier than I thought.

Viconia suppressed the urge to panic. Never before had she been so completely powerless. She watched as his eager fingers tore at her clothing. Each brush of his skin against hers burned. She attempted to resist and was wracked with pain.

“Yes, little one. Fight me. It will only make your destruction that much more enjoyable.” Bhaal twisted Soris’ face into a smile once more. “They say that when you are about to die your life passes before your eyes. Shall we review yours?” His hands twisted as if he were gathering something. “Look here, Drow.” He held what appeared to be a tiny, almost invisible, thread. She knew what it was: a piece of her life, a memory.

Again, the twisted face spoke. “But it is so much more than that. There is power here; power that set your life on its present course; power that brought you here to me today. Observe.”


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“Take it.” Viconia stared up at her older sister as the older girl held out a mass of dripping entrails. “Eat it. Show me you are not afraid.”

Viconia took the mass in her hand. It was warm and slippery. She could feel her stomach churn, protesting the act she had yet to commit. The bloody mess slid to the floor with a wet slap.

“I won’t. The beast was slaughtered incorrectly.” She was correct, but she dared not meet her sister’s eyes.

“Is that so?” Her sister’s voice was ominous. “Perhaps I should find a new sacrifice in that case.”

The smaller Drow know she was doomed, but she ran anyway. He sister was stronger and faster, but Viconia was tired of being used, of being a rung on her sister’s ladder to success. A sharp sting flared across the back of her leg, and the leg crumpled.

“Now I have you, little Elg’caress. We’ll see how smart you feel when I am done with you.” The rod snapped twice more on the backs of Viconia’s legs.

“What is going on here?” Viconia let out a sigh of relief. Her brother, Valas, was one of the few people her sister truly feared. It didn’t really make sense. Valas was nice. He helped Viconia with her schoolwork. He played with her. He smiled, for that matter. And to top it off, he was male. Her sister should not fear him, but she did, and for that Viconia was glad. Valas would stop her.

“Valas, brother, I did not expect you. I was merely disciplining our little sister. I sent her on an errand, and she returned late.” The older Drow lied. “Such disobedience cannot go unpunished.”

Valas gave her a curious half-smile. “Certainly not. Disobedience should never go unpunished, but I hardly think the rod is recommended for such a small infraction. She is only a child.” He paused, letting his meaning sink in. “I think you should leave her to me.”

Viconia grinned and took the opportunity to grind an elbow into her sister’s rib. She knew she wouldn’t be punished at all. She watched as her sister slunk out of the room, defeated and fuming.

Valas then turned his gaze to his youngest sister. “I hope you learned something from this today. I will see you at dinner.” He turned and left, his boots clicking rhythmically on the stone floor.

Viconia counted to ten before leaving the room.


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“Yes, you learned something that day, didn’t you? You learned that you were incapable of standing on your own, that you needed someone else to do the work for you.” Bhaal leered. “You learned the power of manipulation, and when you couldn’t manipulate, you ran.”

Viconia tried to focus on his hands to avoid listening, but it was hard. She could see the next thread. She knew where he was taking her. She braced herself.

“It was your brother who covered your next escape, with his life. Your powerful, handsome brother threw away his life to save yours. What. A. Waste.”

Viconia felt a weak surge of anger as the dead god insulted her brother. “I…I have not wasted my life.”

“Oh, let us see…You fled to the surface, out of the protective circle of your brother’s arms and found that others were not nearly so willing to take you in. They wanted something in return, something you were all too quick to provide, whore.”

Viconia had been called a whore before, but it had not burned her the way the word did now. “Not all of them treated me as a whore.”

“No, of course not. My son did not, and how did you treat him? You strung him along. You used his trust and naïveté to get what you wanted, and when you thought he was getting out of your control you left him. You moved on.”

“I…” She did not have a good response.

“You ran away. You ran away and left him to rot in the dungeon of a madman.”

“I helped him defeat Sarevok. He accomplished his goal.”

“In any case, it does not matter.” The figure went on. “The story does not end there. You were given another chance. Once again you required rescuing.”

“Things were different.” She looked desperately for some sliver of hope. It would be better if she could just stop feeling.

Bhaal did not give her the chance. “Were they? Once again, you resorted to manipulation, and when he began to wind his way through your words, you spread your legs. Once a whore, always a whore.”

“I am not proud of that.” She let the words out with a hiss, and the bitterness they brought out surprised her.

“Perhaps not, but your pride was never the issue, only your continued survival. It worked for a time, until you began to realize that the male had become more than a tool to you.”

Viconia knew that there was truth in his words, but they were still wrong somehow. “And I became trapped. I tried several times to push him away, but he would not leave.”

“Yes, he is stupid in that way, my son. Enough talk. You see now how pathetic you are, how fragile. Look around you, Drow. No one is here to save you. No brother. No lover. No friends. It is just you and I, and we know who is going to win.”

His mind began to stab at hers, even as his body picked up speed. Layers upon layers of threads were ripped away. Viconia had never experienced such agony. She watched helplessly as he found the thread that ran through her core. She felt his touch, felt him. Her eyes took on a wicked gleam, and she followed the fibers down into his being, and as he drew closer, she could see it. At the very center of his being, an inverted light pulsed. The pulse was familiar. His hands groped her. She needed just a second more. His breath was hot on her neck. She waited. Waited. The pattern glistened dully behind his eyes. She knew she only had a moment. She threw everything she had against him in one violent tearing motion. The pulse continued, but the light changed. She felt his strength wane.

“You bitch! Do you know what you’ve done to him?”

“Cannot stand alone, can I?”

“This isn’t over. You have won here, Drow, but you will fall short of the ultimate victory. You shall see. Events begin today that cannot be undone.”

The world dissolved into darkness.


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Soris felt the flash before he ‘saw’ it.

Prepare youself, boy. He comes.

What am I supposed to do?

That, child is not my problem. Go!

Soris trudged out under the weight of the darkness. Without warning, the darkness took on a blood-red hue. A figure stood before him, a twisted double of himself.

“Shall we get this over with?” He asked.

“Yes, why don’t we?” The double gave him a twisted grin. “I enjoyed the taste of your Drow.”

The two Soris flew at each other. Fists pounded. Energy crackled.


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“Viconia!” Imoen shook her friend, but the Drow woman remained comatose. It had been nearly six hours since Eric had found the bodies of Soris and Viconia, crumpled in the dark, drenched by the rain. Viconia burned hot with fever, but Soris was cold. Imoen took a step away from the bed and collided with an elven soldier, who was once again standing much too close. Imoen had had enough. “Get out.”

“The commander’s orders…” He barely managed to stammer out the words before the pink-haired mage exploded.

“To the abyss with you commander. My brother and my friend may be dying, and you are in my way.” She began a fireball chant. The guard back away, shocked. Minsc leaned down towards him.

“Boo suggests that you do not anger little Imoen, or you will lose more than you eyeballs.” The soldier just stared at the ranger. Boo let out two loud squeaks. Minsc frowned. “Boo wonders if perhaps you did not understand. Minsc can help with that. The boot of righteousness has not been busy lately.” The soldier stepped away from the ranger. Jaheira closed the door behind him with a click.

“Nicely done, Minsc. I appreciate being able to breath again.” Imoen offered him a brief smile.

“I agree with that, Torm be praised! But I doubt Elhan will let this pass.” Keldorn shifted on his stool, which was much too small for him.

The discussion was cut short by a low moan from Viconia. Imoen rushed to her side. “Welcome back.”

Viconia struggled feebly to sit up. “Soris.”

“Lie still. He is here.”

“Is he awake?”

Imoen shook her head.

“Help me up.”

Again Imoen shook her head. “Not this time, Vic. You need more sleep. I don’t know what happened out there, but I was worried I would loose you. If you don’t believe me, look in the mirror. You’re a mess.”

“That was not a request, dalinil. Assist me.” The Drow threw her legs over the side of the bed only to find that they would not hold her up. She fell forward. Only the combined efforts of Jaheira and Imoen kept her from hitting the floor. Minsc and Keldorn took over and carried her to Soris bedside.

Viconia looked and the sorcerer and laid one hand gently on his forehead. “You are not alone.” She spoke. Faith. Trust yourself. Her mind spoke the words. Viconia prayed that she could. She began to work.


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Slender fingers worked their way along his arms, searching for a pulse. Nothing. Her search over his neck proved equally fruitless. His skin was pale and cold, lifeless, but his body remained. You are not dead yet, jaluk. She lay her hand on his forehead again and searched for the thread that would lead her where she wanted to go. The world blurred for a moment. She let out a small grunt of pain.

Expanding before her was a large network of threads, some thick, others thin. Some glowed or pulsed, while others seemed unnaturally twisted, tied in impossible knots. Slowly and with great care, she began to undo them.


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Soris head snapped backwards and he hit the ground with a dead thud. Bhaal gave him no time to recover, following one kick with several more. Soris tried to chant a spell, but found he couldn’t speak. He pushed himself to his knees only to be knocked back to the ground by another series of kicks. Stars swam at the corners of his vision. He felt the next blow coming and grabbed the boot before it could connect. Bhaal fell, and the brawl continued.

I can’t do it. He’s stronger than I am.Two more blows impacted his stomach. He retched. He wanted to give up.

Irenicus spoke. Cold reason flowed through the sorcerer’s mind. You must stop fighting him on his own terms. Now is not your time. One day, you will face him like this, but it will be you who will triumph. For now, you must escape. Focus your mind. Leave this place behind.

Irenicus’ words were strangely invigorating. Soris swallowed and grasped Bhaal as firmly as he could. He focused, forcing the solid ground to become liquid, and the liquid to disappear. Father and son plunged into the darkness.

As they fell, Soris was gripped by a numbing cold. His fingers stiffened and ceased to function. He fell away from Bhaal. The darkness swirled around him threatening to swallow up his very existence.


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Viconia found the thread. It still beat erratically, but she was unsure if it would continue to do so. She grasped it firmly in her hand. Live.The word was barely a whisper. No response. Carefully she reached inside herself, allowing his feeble pulse to meld with her stronger one. I will not allow you to die, jaluk. The pulse flared briefly. She applied more force. Live! He convulsed beneath her. Vaguely she was aware of others around her, trying to stop her. She did not let them. Still, he did not rise. She allowed his pulse to flow completely into hers. We are one now, jaluk. If I am to live, so must you.

Beneath her, his pulse quickened, and kept time with his convulsions. Viconia let them run their course.


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Soris found himself clinging to a ledge, watching a scene unfold far below him. A man and a woman stood together. The man touched her face, and then threw her to the ground, his fingers ripping and tearing at her clothes. Soris knew what was happening, and he was powerless to stop it. He dug his fingers into the rock until they bled. Just as the struggle had reached its climax the man let out a scream and clutched at his eyes.

“You bitch! Do you know what you have done to him?”

Searing pain stabbed into Soris’ eyes. He plunged back into darkness.


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He convulsed one last time before his breath returned in a ragged gasp. Viconia felt the thread go hot in her hand. She gently eased it away from her own and allowed it to return to its rightful place. She looked down, waiting for his eyes to open, for the nightmare to end. Finally they did.

“Viconia.” His voice was barely audible.

“Silence, jaluk. Do not waste your strength with words. She pressed her lips against his and forced his teeth apart with her tongue, allowing her breath to flow into him. She felt him return the kiss almost desperately. After a long moment she pulled away

“Viconia,” he rasped. “Where are you? I can’t see you. I can’t see.”

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