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Part 8: Burning Memories


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#1 Guest_C'est Nedra_*

Posted 20 May 2004 - 03:11 AM

Man in the Iron Mask Part 8:Burning Memories


“Fire purifies the mind and the soul, I would not be the man I am if not for the fires of the Abyss,”

-Sarevok of the Iron Mask




Shar-Teel walked through the brightly lit streets of Baldur’s Gate, her thin cape covering her plate-covered body and sweaty face. The heat was somewhat more bearable in the night but it mattered not, no heat nor adversary would keep her from her destination. She passed by a pale cream house adorned with blue shutters, she could remember her mother taking her there to visit a childhood friend, but she could not remember her name...a girl that went to school with her, with reddish hair and pigtails, a bit bratty but she did not spend that much time with her. She did not spend much time with any of her childhood friends, except those her parents forced her to, especially once her father joined into business with that man..what *was* his name. She pounded her hand into her fist in frustration, receiving a nervous glance from a nearby peasant, it seemed she could remember little these days.

Ah yes, she thought to herself as she strode past a well-kept brick home, Rieltar. Rieltar Anchev. . A suspicious looking man that had made her nervous when in his presence, he seemed quite generous and kind on the exterior, but the interior was something she had hoped to never see. His sharp, angular face was deep-lined and pale, with black piercing eyes, a sharp comparison to his beautiful, darker-skinned wife. She could remember their son, an incredibly tall youth who was a few years her senior, her mother had introduced them at a society function and they had shared one dance. Something about him seemed so familiar...






“Shar, this is Sarevok, the Anchev’s only son, he is but only two years older,” her mother said warmly, gesturing towards the tall boy she had hooked on her long arm. Sarevok looked down at her with clear, amber eyes, their burning irises contrasting sharply with his deeply tanned skin. He looked southern as did his mother, but there was something strange about his strong face, framed with a smoothly shaved head and a chin of dark stubble.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Shar,” he replied, his voice deep for a boy of fifteen years. Shar felt a nervous smile spread across her warm face, and she bowed her head in polite modesty.

“As well as for me,” she said sweetly, then looked back up and cast a wondering glance at her mother. A new song began, a lively tune made especially for dancing.

“What a marvelous coincidence, why don’t the both of you share a dance?” her mother exclaimed, unraveling her arm from Sarevok’s, then nodding at her daughter.

Sarevok came one step closer to her, then reached out a large hand. “Would you care to dance?” he asked, his eyes unblinking.

“Of course,” she replied with a smile, then gently placed her hand in his. She shivered slightly as her skin met his, his hand was quite warm, and she felt his arm move around her and a hand press against the side of her waist lightly. He agilely wove through the groups of dancing couples and she delicately slid her hand to rest on his shoulder, then marveled at how he could be so light on his feet.

“You are an excellent dancer for one...” she began.

“Of my size?” he finished with a wide grin, “I have heard that often.”

Shar felt her cheeks blush furiously, and turned her head away from him in embarrassment.

“You also dance quite well, do you come often to these functions?” he added, not wishing to cause her to feel awkward. She glanced back up at him, sensing the warmth of his stare as much as that of his hand.

“Only as often as my mother forces me to,” she said bluntly, then bit her lip in anger towards her big mouth. Must I be so crass,
she groaned inwardly, but saw Sarevok stifle a laugh.

“It is good to see another who loathes these ‘social gatherings’ as much as I do,” he whispered, moving his mouth closer to her ear so noone around them could hear. Shar felt slightly nervous at the close proximity of his smooth face, and she could feel heat radiating from his thick lips as they brushed ever-so-slightly against the hair loosely gathered around her ear. He acted so maturely for his age, and she felt awkward and young compared to him.

“My father tells me I must become a proper lady, as my mother is, he discourages my ‘other’ habits more and more as I grow older,” Shar murmured to Sarevok, moving her mouth near the side of his face so close to hers. She saw him stifle another laugh, and could not see the grin spread widely across his face.

“What ‘other habits’, if I may ask?” he whispered, and she felt a tinge of nervousness at telling the boy her stupid hobbies.

“I love reading, and I have taken lessons for drawing and singing, but father says I serve no purpose except marriage, therefore such learning is wasted,” she finally said, feeling her cheeks darken and warm.

Sarevok pulled away from her, and she looked up at his stern face nervously as he scanned over her.

“No woman is meant to be uneducated, married or not, and let noone tell you otherwise,” he said forcefully, his eyes piercing into her own, “you are young and strong, let no other control your destiny. Take from the dark goddess herself, your namesake,” His eyes darkened slightly, and she felt his hand tighten.

“Let no other control your destiny...” he whispered again, and Shar felt a strong grip rip her from his grasp.

“Shar, what have I told you, you will not waste your time on such frivolous youths,” her father’s harsh voice growled, interrupting her conversation and shattering the growing intimacy between her and Sarevok. She turned to see his finger pointed menacingly towards the boy, who quickly stepped back and away from Shar.

“Away with you boy, find another to despoil with your deceitful words, my daughter will not be taken into your dark ways,” he hissed, and she turned to look up at Sarevok. His face was steeled and his jaw clenched, and he bowed deeply towards her father, then turned his amber eyes up to glance at her.

I’m sorry, she mouthed, her blue eyes pleading, and he nodded slightly and turned away to stiffly walk back towards his own family.


Shar felt her father pull her off the dance floor, down the stairs and towards the hallway leading to her room. Her stomach was tight and her body numb as she dragged along, who knew what would happen, if his hand would accompany his words tonight or not. He stopped suddenly and ripped open her bedroom door, pulling her into the room and throwing her onto her bed roughly.


You little slut! I know what you did, I know how you are!” her father screamed at her, shoving her down onto the soft bed.

“No! Father, I nev—“ she cried, hot tears of fear streaming down her burning face.

“Silence!” he roared, slapping her roughly across the face, “I knew I should have never left you two alone to dance…I told your mother, but no! She will pay dearly for this…”

“No!” she gasped, clutching her smarting cheek, “mother had no part in this!”

Her father grinned cruelly, his dark eyes glinting with malice. “She had plenty enough to do with it…but it does not matter, we are discussing you. So what has gone on in this bed, Shar? Have you been whoring around with the entire town or just the nobility?” he sneered, standing over her body sprawled on the bed.

She felt more tears trailing down her burning face. “Father…I have done nothing! We just danced…” she moaned, violent sobs interrupting her pleas.

“No more Shar, I will tolerate no more of this behavior. Look at you, you are no better than the courtesans on the street corners, look at your hair, your painted face, this dress!” he screamed, ripping at her satin and lace dress with rough hands. Shreds of cloth flew around the room, and she clutched her half-naked body desperately. Tears clung to her smooth skin as her father smacked her again. “No more tears, tears are for children! Now go to sleep, you little harlot!” he growled, shoving her rising shoulders down to the bed.

“Yes…father…” she whispered, pulling up a shaking hand to dry her cheeks. She watched as he left the room, his tall frame disappearing as he slammed her door behind him.

She felt the emotions rush from her body as she held quivering arms over her half-torn dress. She was so ashamed…she was dirty, she hated him so much. The anger built within her breast, and she felt as if she would explode, how could her father not believe her?! She stood up slowly and walked towards a mirror, gazing at her swollen and red reflection. She wiped a few stray tears from her cheeks and stared at her eyes—so cold—and a look of disgust swept over her face.


No more tears. Ever.

She heard the door open, and spun around quickly.

“I will guarantee your faithfulness, even if you cannot promise it,” a quiet voice hissed, and a wave of panic raced through her as she recognized its slithering tone.

“My father will make you leave, you cannot stay,” she commanded, “you are unwelcome in a young woman’s bedroom.”
She gasped as she saw her father behind the man, a cruel grin spread across his face. “I warned you child, you must obey...but you chose otherwise, you must be punished...”

“No!” Shar cried, “please, no...stop!”

“Help me!”






Shar-Teel shook the memory from her mind, the pain searing through her breast as it had done so long ago, but why?! She had cried that many nights alone as she lay in the harsh woods, the dusty paths between towns, the lonely ruins she had called home for so many lonely years...why did they do it, what had they done to her. It hurt so much now, more and more as she walked on, the feeling of fire coursed through the scars and penetrated her beating heart. She would find out soon, and she sighed in recognition as she stepped before the tall, sandstone and brick house. Home. They would all pay dearly, all except her mother, and she would whisk her away before Angelo could hurt her anymore. Hurt them anymore.

The front door was the same warm brown color, stained lightly and aged in the bright sunlight, she slipped her fingers around the brass doorhandle. It opened easily, the hinges were still oiled well, she was not surprised it was unlocked as her mother often kept it that way... “if a person needs something that badly, then they need it more than I do,” she would say, her generous heart blind to the malice of others. Even that of her own husband.

She closed the door gently behind her and strode into the dark entryway, she imagined they would be asleep. She withdrew a small dagger, purchased for only one use, one fatal strike. Her father would not outlive the night. Her sandaled feet crept quietly across the thick, sand colored carpet and up the entry stairs, past the various family portraits and small prints. They looked so happy, it was so false, her smile was as much of a lie as her father’s. They were never a family....he never loved her, as much as he never loved her mother, she could remember the long nights as she hid in her room, shaking violently as she heard her father’s screaming and loud slamming followed by her mother’s cries for help...but she could do nothing. Then the pounding as her father came up the stairs, tears of fear streaming down her face as the door opened and he came in, pulling her by her long hair out from under the bed. It was her turn to scream and that she did, she would not be able to go out and play until the cuts healed and the bruises faded.

He would pay dearly, she smiled as she clenched the dagger in her hand, this would be a most satisfactory experience. She crept down the dark hallway, she had told Vorekas she had work to finish and that she did, she had her entire childhood to put an end to. She would save her mother now as she could not as a child, she had to leave her but she promised she would return. She had power now, she had strength greater than her father’s, she would take her mother away and keep her safe forever.

Their bedroom door was before her now, the crack was still there from where her mother’s head had slammed against the wood in one of his fits of rage. Shar-Teel gently turned the handle, silently pushing open the door and slipping into the room. It was surprisingly dimly lit, a fire slowly dying out in the far hearth, and she glanced around nervously for any servants or guards.

She jerked in surprise as her eyes drifted across the bed, it was neatly made. Empty and smooth, it looked as if it had not been slept in for years...there was a thick layer of dust made visible by the low firelight. One chair was turned with its back to her, but otherwise the room was empty and obviously had been so for a great amount of time. She felt panic racing through her mind, where was her mother?! Had they moved, had...no...she would not, she could not consider that.

She felt a whisper of movement slide past her, as if a dark shade were circling around her and cloaking her in its shroud.

“I knew you would come eventually,” a quiet voice whispered, and Shar-Teel felt her stomach turn in fear. She sensed a silent hand race around her to rip her cloak from her body, a rush of wind as it fell to the ground.

“Where are they,” she growled, “where have you taken them.” The voice was one that was burned into her memory, the man she was to...her thoughts were interrupted by a hand slipping across her bare shoulder.

“Oh, I had hoped for a better greeting than that Shar, what has happened to your manners?” the man asked playfully, “I had not thought years of isolation in the forests would bring you to such...uncouthness.”


Shar-Teel whipped around but she could see noone, just dark shadows playing against the pale blue walls. He was playing tricks on her mind, attempting to confuse her so he could more easily defeat her, but she would not have it.

“Come out from the shadows you worm, I am not here for your entertainment,” she hissed, returning her dagger to her waist and drawing her sword instead.

“Oh, but you are here for other reasons, are you not? I imagine the scars of your childhood often are burning memories in your mind,” the dark figure replied, now becoming visible as it came to stand before the dim light of the fireplace. Shar-Teel did not bother to squint and look at his face, she knew it well enough. It lingered in her dreams and her darker thoughts...the memories she attempted to block from her mind.

“I wonder how quickly it took you to learn the true purpose of my mark, if you came near the point of death before you finally realized your mistake” – he paused for a moment and pulled back his shadowy hood, revealing a bald head covered with strange designs– “or maybe you never discovered the truth, I imagine your affinity for men has not grown since you ran away to the wildness of the forests. There are many much worse than your father,” he said, moving closer to her. She could see the glowing green eyes and sharp nose, the long, bony face adorned with various scars and a tuft of blonde chin hair.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, fool, this mark has no purpose except pain...it bothered me not until I neared Baldur’s Gate. Obviously your pathetic plans were quite ineffective,” Shar-Teel sneered, her hand moving involuntarily to cover the spot on the chest where the scar was burned deeply.

The man paused, then threw back his head and let out a loud peal of nasal, high-pitched laughter. Shar-Teel winced as the falsetto tones assaulted her ears, feeling as if her eardrums would rupture at any moment.

“Oh, my dear, stupid, little girl...you just don’t realize what I have done to you!” He let out another fit of laughter, then smiled insidiously as Shar-Teel took another step closer to him.

“Then tell me, scum, before I rip your innards out and spill them across the floor,” she snarled, gripping her sword tightly in her strong hands. The man straightened up and lifted his hands before him, muttering a short incantation before she could protest. A globe of light shot from his spindly fingers, surrounding her and paralyzing her to the spot. She tried to struggle but found herself unable to, the only part of her body that could move were her eyes...she was powerless.

“There, that should keep you from being too much of a threat until I am finished with you,” he hissed, stepping closer to her. “How interesting that it began to affect you as you came closer to the city, immediately after joining the company of a certain mercenary...” He plucked her helm from her head, allowing her hair to cascade down and around her shoulders. “We really must get you cleaned up, my love, before the day...our day...men in iron masks will no longer matter.”

Shar-Teel’s eyes were furrowed in confusion, scanning wildly around the room and across the man’s face as it came nearer to hers. She felt as if she would positively burst with pure hatred and rage as he ran a long finger down her cheek, tracing the faint outline of an old scar. He will suffer...

“So many scars, my dear girl, and yet only one has any true purpose. It was a marvelous idea, really, Winski is a genius when it comes to the arcane, I had not thought him truly capable of such a powerful curse.”

Shar-Teel’s mind raced. Her darkest suspicions were confirmed, she had been cursed, the scar was not merely a physical punishment...suddenly it dawned on her, his words to her. He would force her to be faithful, even if she did not wish to be...

“You see, your father had promised your hand to me many years before I had to resort to such drastic measures, sadly others began to take notice of the beauty I had seen from the day of your birth, I knew I could not trust you to be faithful without my aid,” he said, caressing her neck with a thin fingertip. He came closer to her, she could feel his hot breath against her skin, she felt like caged animal brought to the slaughter, it was maddening.

He stopped suddenly, and looked up at her with a wan smile. “Obviously your heart is not mine alone, or the curse would not have taken effect...but that will all be changed.” His expression dropped, his eyes narrowed menacingly. “I will be your only love, you will love me and me alone. Know this well, Shar. Marriage to me is your only release from the pain...you will die otherwise.”

Shar-Teel felt her lips begin to gain feeling again, she could feel her limbs slowly begin to tingle and tremble. “I love noone fool, not you or anyone else, and I never will!” she bellowed, again clutching her sword tightly in her palms.

The man began to laugh again, the sound echoing through the empty room. “The curse only pains you if you are touched by a man other than myself, whether physically or emotionally...did you always hate men? Did you always bear such a violent enmity for the opposite sex? I think not...it is my doing.”

Shar-Teel’s mouth dropped, she could not remember when she had begun to hate men...it was because of her father, all men were scum like him. It did not matter, this fool was attempting to confuse her, she had been touched by men before, Vorekas had laid an arm on her shoulder that very same day. And her chest had felt as if it was on fire and she had broken into a fit of coughs...

She thought of his deep voice, gruffly taking her snide comments and throwing them back at her, a man and yet he...he was much more than that. A capable fighter, a knowledgeable mind, a sarcastic companion who had wanted to know more about her...about Shar-Teel the person. Not the woman, the warrior, the man-hater...the mind within. She...she did care deeply for him, more than she would ever admit, even to herself. It was no wonder the curse had pained her, Vorekas was slowly breaking through the layers of ice just as she was removing his mask of steel...and now she would never see him again. She smiled as she thought of him clumsily attempting to eat through the slot in his helm, chastising her as she attempted to run through the bard in the tavern, waking up with him there, in her room...

“It is so much clearer now, is it not my love? No matter, we will clean you up and you will be ready for the day. We will just have to...subdue you until that time.” He moved his hands again and a globe of light shot out, and Shar-Teel’s world went black.


Goodbye Vorekas...




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