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Our Deepest Fear; Just thought I'd ask
Topic Started: Sep 2 2005, 06:55 AM (342 Views)
Ignia
Member Avatar
Lady of Roman Fire
Alright, I'm about to enter this is the US's biggest writing contest. I didn't think I could get any worth while cratiques, but if you don't make the shot you have a 100% chance of missing the basket, you know? So, here's to however this works out B)

Chapter 7
Our Deepest Fear


Ave’s mind began to awaken not unlike how dawn brightens the eastern view. He felt his lungs draw deep a breath of cold air. A dim blue glow fell upon his eyes as Ave looked about and sat up. He was in the middle of an immense room surrounded by four walls that stretched far to meet each other. The room was mosaiced from floor to walls with pale tiles of faded blues, soft lilacs, and watery greens, all which seemed to breathe an eerie light. The walls reached high above him, up to where the darkness crept down like vines of Orcus. Ave could only presume that he had fallen from that darkness, but he felt no pain in his body neither from falling to this mosaic, nor from the blow that had knocked him out at the start.

Ave stood, his wings billowing as he moved. Turning, he searched the walls carefully to find he was completely closed in. Looking up, he knew his wings were futile; there was no possibility in this cold, still air of escaping as a cormorant.

“What,” Ave wondered, “am I supposed to be doing?” Ave knew it was a test, but he had no idea, however, upon what he was being tested. He turned a quarter of a circle, still contemplating his next move, and then decided it really didn’t matter.

So, he began to walk the great length to one of the dim walls, his long, deliberate strides making quick work of the listless length.

Ave placed his palm against the cold tile of the wall. Bringing his hand back he could fee moisture on his fingers. Ave watched beads of condensation gather on the chilled ceramic. He returned his hand to the tile and could feel the temperature plummet. Ave drew back, watching the growing condensation roll down to the floor. All around him moisture streamed down the walls, gathered on the floor, and began to slowly rise. The icy water seeped up around his shoes soaking them through, and drenched his jeans up to just above his ankles and there the water stopped.

For a moment all was still except for Ave’s rapidly beating heart. He took a step towards the middle of the great room making the water slosh, its undulations shattering the light of the tiles making it dance over its source.

Suddenly, with the sound of rapid freezing, a huge pillar of ice rose in the center, drinking in the water to feed its growth.

Ave’s heart beat ever more rapid as the pillar began to take shape, waist, shoulders, arms, and finally a face framed with crystalline hair.

Ave’s voice clotted in his throat as the woman of ice reached a hand, palm up, out to him. Finally his voice broke free in a singe frozen breath.

“Mea?”

***

The nothingness surrounding Ignia was absolute. There was no smell in the air, no image for her eyes, no sound in the darkness; she could not even feel the surface beneath her that kept her from falling for eternity. Her flames fluttered in front of her, but like a black hole the light was sucked away and so she could not see the fire or even her own hand from which it flowed. She shrugged and got to her feet. There was nowhere to walk, but the mindless action was comforting.

“You know it’s futile, Ignia. No good has ever come to pass from any of your actions.”

“Well, hello.” Ignia grinned. “Did you miss me, Allecto?”

***

Pike awoke feeling as if he had been lying there the whole time, and felt no evidence of his fall.

Getting up he looked around at the bright colors elaborately woven on the walls. The terracotta of paint twisting about each other formed an intricate pattern like none of any culture. The room was well lit despite the lack of any light source Pike was able to identify. The three walls of the room formed an isosceles triangle, and opposite the smallest angle were two large doors, both completely plain other than the fact that one was painted pitch black, and the other stark white. They looked alien in the midst of the busy walls.

Unexpectedly a whisper broke from the still air sounding the same as a voice distorted by wind.

The bodiless voice told him, “To decide is to cut away your options. If you decide, you have ignored your Self in favor of logic presumed to be truth. To choose is to obey your whim, the voice of your Self. You choose for no logical reason only for the voice within you. Choose a door and free your Self from the downward cut of your decision.”

Silence hung in the air. Pike looked from the black door to the white, and back.

“Okay….” He looked from door to door. “Right. So I… choose. I just pick a door.” He rubbed his hands together. “Right.”

Pike looked from door to plain door. “But which one?”

He crossed his arms and ruminated, “It’s all a question of what I can expect behind that door. Obviously white is associated with purity and goodness, while black represents darkness and tribulations. But any halfway intelligent person would know that if your trying to be tricked then you go for the less obvious answer, which would mean picking the black door. But it’s never that simple! Allecto knows I’d be suspecting a trap, and would try to avoid it by going through the black door, which means that is where she would lay the trap, but then again if she really wanted to me to fail she would booby trap both doors. But nevertheless, that’s not the point, and so the trap must lie beyond the black door. Therefore the correct choice is the white door!”

His brain kind of spinning, Pike took a step toward the white door. Hesitating he looked over to his other option.

“No,” he assured himself, “this makes sense,” and reached out to push open the white door. As soon as he touched the door it opened for him and he stepped through. The first thing he saw was identical patterns on the walls as in the room from which he had just come, but then he saw what was right ahead of him: two doors, completely plain, one pitch black and the other stark white.

“What…?” Pike turned around but the door he had just stepped through was gone, replaced only by the apex of the isosceles triangle of the room.

***

Draca felt abandoned as she stood alone on the granite path trying to discern her next move. It was then that she saw the door at the end of the arena. But before she made her way to the door however, she looked back to where she and her companions had dropped their packs upon the advent of the chimera.

“We,” Draca decided, “are idiots.” There were no packs, and, for that matter, no remnants of that path on which they had been. When they walked away from the packs, their full attention on the battle ahead, the path had disappeared beneath them.

“Brilliant!” Draca scorned. Looking over the edge she said, “Well, I hope one of you three find them down there or even if we survive this we will promptly freeze in these accursed mountains.”

Wishing it were physically possible to kick herself in the butt, she stormed across the platform to the lone door.

“And where do you lead?” She asked as she pushed the door open and walked through.

Draca was instantly dumbfounded, and her eyes drawn up by the colossal wall directly in front of her. With a breath of awe she touched the glassy surface of the deep violet stone. Letting her eyes glide over its beauty she found that two equally impressive walls made of the same obsidian ran perpendicular to the first enclosing her on three sides. And behind her was no door, but a fourth wall, jagged and crumbling, making the enclosure complete. The air was dry and hot, and the sun directly above flamed down making her feel a deep thirst. She immediately shed her sheer over-shirt and threw it aside, and set her attention on the only climbable wall of the four. It was dull, red rock covered in grit. Century lines striped it, but it looked so plain next to the shimmering obsidian. Taking a quick glance back at the deep, shining crystal, she came to terms with the inevitability of her climb. There was nowhere to go but up.

With a deep sigh she reached up and began to pull herself up the cliff. She was careful to test each foot or hand hold before trusting it with her full weight. Thus the climb promised to be long and difficult, and the sun seemed to lash her with his heat. It did not take long until her body glistened with sweat, and short there after the muscles in her back and legs began a relentless complaint.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?”

Draca jumped at the sound of her own voice, yet she had not spoken. Still clinging to the cliff she looked to the side and found herself face to face with, herself.

A ghost of her herself, sitting cross-legged, floated next to Draca watching with mild interest.

“It’s just that it’s so very far up,” the ghost said, “and you’re already tired.”

Speechless, Draca just clung there, staring at her own face.

“And look,” the image of herself said as she lounged to her side. “You haven’t even come very far.”

Draca unthinkingly looked down. She immediately gasped as the long drop stretched away from her eyes. And at that moment, as if on purpose, the sturdy rock she held snapped. Draca screamed as the ground so far away, suddenly rushed up to her.

***

Ave suffered a terrible ache in his whole heart as he gazed at the icy figure of Mea.

“Mea?” he whispered as if speaking too loud would make his love shatter. “Is it really you?”

Her eyes gazing upon him were powerful towards Ave soul. She held one hand, palm up, to him.

“Come, Ave.” Her voice sung like crystal. “Come with me.”

Mesmerized he reached to place his hand in hers, but then he pulled back slightly.

“How is this possible?” He asked her, never once taking his eyes from hers.

“Come, Ave,” her lips spoke. “Come join me in eternal death.”

“What?” Ave questioned uncertainly, stepping away from her.

“Death is where we can be together,” She said, stepping forward.

Ave drew back, fear creeping in about his core.

“Death is where we can be free,” she enticed, drawing nearer still. “We can spend all of time abreast in one grave.”

Ave backed away, fear gripping his heart as slowly realization seeped into his mind like ice water trickling between the crevices of his brain.

Ave shook his head slightly. “You’re just a figment,” he breathed. “You’re not Mea at all.”

“I will take you,” she insisted, her eyes flashing with anger, “and throw you in Hell!”
Her up turned palm rotated and water streamed up into it, weaving itself into Ave’s own elaborate sword.

She seemed to grow larger than life as she raised the sword high above her head.
Scowling down at him, her eyes pierced through his heart. “Tartarus awaits.”

With a terrified gasp Ave threw himself to the side as the sword sliced the air. Stumbling he tried to get away from the icy figure, never once taking his eyes from her.

“Why are you doing this?” He yelled, fear and pain filling his every pore.

“Don’t you remember?” She roared from her lioness face. She slowly closed the space between them as Ave searched for an escape. “Don’t you remember what I told you that day you let me die?”

“You said-“ Ave gasped.

“Be strong,” the icy figure finished. “Why, Ave, did you not become strong?”

“I tried!” Ave threw at her desperately. “I became as strong as I could!”

“It wasn’t good enough.” She thrust the sword at him and in shock he fell to his back. Ave scrambled away as the sword came crashing down in the spot he had been only a moment before.

“Stop this, Mea!” Ave pleaded.

“Oh, so now you believe?” She spat.

Ave was taken aback by this, and thus in his stupor did not dodge the blade.

His agonized cry collided into the walls and rippled the water, as the sword, halfway buried down into his shoulder, drank in his blood, filling the vacuumed crevices.

Ave crashed to his knees as the sword dripped above him.

Ave was petrified with pain; he clutched his arm and his head bowed. The icy figure brought the sanguine sword up in both hands above his neck.

“You’re right!” Ave panted. “You’re not Mea!”

The woman of ice drew back as if the words hurt her.

He shakily got to his feet. “You’re nothing but a figment of my mind, conjured up to torture me!”

“You-Nngh!” Ave fell back to his knees but determinedly got up again. “You have no power over me!”

The figure of ice screamed in pain, her sword splashing to the ground.

Ave pushed on towards her. “I won’t let you control me!” He shouted.

The figure clutched her head screaming in agony.

“You killed me!” She wickedly spat.

“I DIED THAT DAY!” Ave roared taking the figment by the throat and throwing her to the water. “And I won’t let you control me ANY MORE!!!”

The product of his sorrow screamed, her voice echoing into eternity. Her features melted away as her body reverted to liquid, which then seeped away leaving dry tile. Ave stood there for a moment, panting.

“I won’t let you control me,” he gasped. “I won’t…”

Ave stumbled forward, his blood dripping to the floor, thought becoming increasingly harder to grasp.

“I won’t let you…” Ave forced his eyes open, “…control me.”
He saw the outline of a door on a near wall. He walked to it leaving a trail of blood in his wake. He fell against the wall, splattering crimson life. Desperately he reached out for the door only paces in front of him.

“I won’t let you-” The last thing he saw in his tunneled vision was the door opening itself towards him. And thought gave way to darkness.

***

“Why do you defy me?” Allecto spoke above Ignia.

“My intention is not to defy you, but only to obey my Self.” Ignia’s steady pace never slowed, never rushed, and her Spirit began to gain ground.

“Why?” Ignia taunted. “Am I bothering you?”

“You don’t know what you do,” Allecto said calmly. “Your insolence will bring on the destruction of us all.”

Ignia laughed jovially. “Haven’t I already accomplished that?”

“Do you know how many you killed?” Allecto asked.

Ignia stopped, all happiness drained, but her blind eyes never wavering. “Yes,” she whispered. “That day alone I killed three million, seven hundred fifty-two thousand, six hundred seven in the clan alone.”

Ignia’s scowl lifted to Allecto. “Do you know haw many you have killed?”

Ignia waited for a response and when none came she answered for the Erinyes, “Six billion, one hundred seventy-two million, nine hundred twenty-nine thousand, five hundred sixty-nine since the creation of this Temple, eighteen of those during my guidance.”

There was a long moment during which Ignia felt herself as a bodiless spirit, a complete life in the nothingness.

Ignia glided back into her skin and began walking again.

After being silent for too long Allecto spoke again, “Are you so eager to die? Will you death change anything? You are nothing but a martyr trapped in your misguided cause.”

Anger and fear welled within the apparition, but she held her firm stance on her Self. “I have already come to terms with forfeiting my life to prevent the Collision of Fire. And yes, I am ridged in my cause. I know my purpose, I know my Self, and I am determined.”

“You will annihilate a whole way of life. Your selfish feat is genocide.”

Ignia smiled. “It’s hard to think of life not revolving around the Erinyes, but life will not altogether cease.”

“Without the Triumvirate the value of Life will be lost!”

“Allecto,” Ignia whispered, admitting the sickening truth, “the value of Life has already been lost. You were unable to prevent it.”

Having fallen from ignorance and feeling her determined purpose swell within her, Ignia almost didn’t realize that her hand had brushed smooth stone. Surprised at the feel of the cold door after no sensations for so long, and hoping she was not the only one to complete her test, Ignia placed her hand on the door and it opened for her. Ignia cried out covering her eyes from the super nova of light.

***

“You decided on the white door,” the windy voice told Pike. “To decide is to cut away your options. If you decide, you have ignored your Self in favor of logic presumed to be truth. To choose is to obey your whim, the voice of your Self. You choose for no logical reason only for the voice within you. Choose a door and free your Self from the downward cut of your decision.”

“So I’ve heard,” Pike grumbled looking at the two more doors facing him.

“Here’s a whim,” he told the voice. “After picking the white door, most would try the black door, so obviously the answer lies in the opposite.”

Feeling slightly foolish Pike reached for the second white door and it opened for him with a single touch. Over the threshold Pike found himself standing at the apex of an isosceles triangle facing a black door and a white door.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Pike growled as the bodiless voice repeated the riddle.

He rubbed his eyes with a groan. “Well we know what’s behind the white door, it’s time to see what the black door holds.”

Pike touched the door, walked through, and screamed in frustration when fronted by a black door and a white door.

“You decided on the black door,” the whisper said and repeated the riddle a fourth time.

“Okay, this is going to take more thought.” Pike sat down and rolled the riddle around in his mind. “ ‘To decide is to cut away your options’…” Pike mused, “ ‘in favor of logic presumed to be truth’…. And, ‘You choose for no logical reason’…. That’s it!”

Pike jumped to his feet. “I’m supposed to pick the illogical choice! And the illogical choice would be the white door, so friendly and familiar,” Pike snickered.

And so, having passed through the threshold Pike was dumbfounded to see a black door and a white door, and to hear the riddle whispered in his ear.

“How do I keep falling into your trap?” Pike cried, collapsing to a sitting position. “It’s a vitzin’ fifty-fifty chance! Statistically I should have at least stumbled upon the right door!”

Pike fell back and lay there looking up to the endless darkness above, however continuing to grumble.

“Unless they both lead absolutely nowhere and I’ll just be going in circles until I die of thirst!”

Pike sighed deeply. “Or maybe I’m just thinking too much. Maybe the answer is so simple I couldn’t possibly have seen it and I’m really just trapped in my own circular thinking.”

He simply lay there too tired to think of anything, and watched the nothingness above him for a while. Finally Pike pulled himself up and ran his fingers through his hair.

“I’m not going to get out of here by lying on my back,” he sighed. “But what will get me out of here?”

He looked at the two doors in defeat. His weary eyes moved from one to the other. Then out of nowhere defiance rose within him.

“You know what?” Pike said. “I really don’t give a damn. I pick this door just for the sheer hell of it!”

Pike reached out and touched the door, but as it opened he did not have time to be pleased that there were no more doors beyond it. Instead, Pike screamed.

***

The horrifying shock of the cliff snapping under Draca’s grip made the world appear as if time had gelled.

The cliff face rushed up with the air about her, but Draca’s mind was stunned. By some innate will Draca’s demonic energy poured from her hand and shaped into a point. With the desperate will she thrust the energy spear into the rock. The stone crumbled beneath the force, dragging the spear deeper and deeper. Feeling a bubble of hope she gathered more of her indigo essence into the other hand and thrust it too into the rock. Soon her decent slowed, and with the exception of a few tumbling stones all was still.

Her heart thumping in her throat Draca looked up at the long scars she had carved into the rock. She also saw the ghost of herself hovering above her head.

“Good job, Draca!” The ghost said. “You’ve lost all that advancement! Look how close to the ground you now are!”

Draca sent her ghost an acid glare.

“Don’t look at me in that tone of voice,” the floating Draca sneered and glided around to the other side of herself that clung to the face of the cliff.

“Damn I’m a bitch,” Draca growled and began to climb.

“Why do you persist?” The floating Draca exclaimed.

“Why do you have to bother me?” Draca said through gritted teeth as she pulled herself up.

“I’m really doing you a favor,” Draca said lounging back in the air. “You need to know that this cliff is too high for you to climb, and even if it weren’t, it’s pointless anyway.”

“Thank you,” Draca said, bitterly and with a sardonic irk. “Now go away!”

“Are you getting tired and grumpy,” the floating Draca taunted, “or is it you just don’t like me?”

“That’s it exactly, so fizz off!” Draca reached higher, looking for a handhold.

“I’ve gone mad,” the climbing Draca concluded. “I’m not just talking to myself, I’m seeing myself floating beside me, taunting me!”

“Sorry, try again!” floating Draca mocked. “No, seriously, stranger things have happened in this Temple.”

“I’m still in the Temple of Allecto?”

“Sure!” Floating Draca said and pointed down. “See for yourself.”

Draca followed her own finger down and again the ground stretched away from her. The rock broke and Draca was falling again. With a terrified scream she thrust her energy into the rock scarring the cliff until she slowed.

When only stones crumbled by Draca still clung to the energy, panting.

“I’m not really that gullible am I?” The second Draca said in disgust.

“SHUT UP!” Draca blasted a snake straight through her own image, who just laughed maliciously.

“You can’t do anything right,” the vile image spat. “You’re a worthless, onerous, sack of complaints to everyone else. They don’t need you, no not even that, they are better off without you!”

“That’s not true!” Draca gulped, still clinging to the rock. Tears escaped her angry eyes.

“Denial is the easy way out of anything,” the image said.

“No!” Draca shouted. “Pike loves me!”

Draca gave herself a scornful laugh. “Like Boudreaux might have?”

“How dare you compare Pike to him!”

“What do you mean ‘how dare you’?” the image asked. “I am you!”

“No…” Draca’s face scrunched in tormented anger. “No. Not any more!”

“What?”

“I don’t care what you are!” Draca shouted, tears of defiance rolling down her dusty cheeks. “I don’t care what you say! You will not define me!”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Draca said, floating next to herself who resumed her climb. “You can’t get rid of me that easily!”

Draca’s voice was level and stern as she clawed her way up. “Yes I can.”

“You worthless piece of shit!” the ghost demanded. “You will always be dragging people down! You will always be a liability!”

“You’re wrong.” Draca found a crevice for her foot and pushed herself up.

“You don’t deserve to even be with Ignia, and Pike, and Ave!”

“You’re wrong.” Draca tested her weight and found the rock sturdy.

“You’re a laughable moron with no abilities at all!”

“You’re wrong.” Draca reached higher and began to leave her image behind.

“I hate everything about you!”

Draca smiled. “You’re wrong.”

Crystal pure tears welled in Draca’s eyes. For the first time in years she felt a flowing love for herself bubble up beneath her breast. She felt comfortable in her skin. She felt beautiful in her soul. She felt confident in her Self.

Her hand reached the lip of the cliff and with a gleeful laugh Draca pulled herself up. Standing atop the cliff, and looking into the vastness of the blue sky, she realized she never knew how much she was hurting herself until she chose to shed the pain.

Draca felt light, and beautiful, and wanted to sing her laughter to the world. She turned around and found her door simply standing without a wall. There was nothing on the other side; it was just a door in its frame on top of a dusty cliff.

She laid her hand on the stone and it opened. Inside Draca heard Ignia shout and saw her cover her eyes from the light pouring into the tiled room.
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Shrike
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The Spikeadelic One
Cool. I like all the challenges that they had to go through. I noticed that you posted Pike's challenge a while ago in your other thread, but I still didn't get to read what happened to him!

It's really good, but if you're gonna enter this in a big writing contest, you'll want to go over it SUPER carefully for grammar and spelling mistakes. I'm sorry (this is just how I am) but I couldn't help noticing several typos. So just make sure you do that, cuz it'd be shame if you didn't do as good as you could have because of a few spelling mistakes.

They had jeans in the Fury Mountains? I didn't know that. :D

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I was instantly reminded of this when I read that.
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Ignia
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Lady of Roman Fire
Haha! That's too funy. Yeah this isn't midevil fiction! Their technology is as advanced as ours, but they don't need weapons. They have blue jeans, backpacking packs, and mondern surgical supplies (that comes into context in a moment). Since you're dieing to see what happens to Pike I suppose I'll post it for you. But only because I like you :P (and I LOVE it when people ask to read my stuff!). I didn't give it to you before because I felt one couldn't grasp the gravity of the situation without reading the rest of the book and therefore turely caring about the character and empathizing with him.

Oh, and I'll get someone to help me with those typos, because if the judges see one that entry is trashed! I'd do it myself by reading it backwards, but I know my story so well forward and back I still would glide right over them! Unless you want to make me eternally gratefull by pointing out the ones you noticed?

Right! So this is the next part directly where you left off:

Pike screamed in shocked fear as a bloody body fell atop him. Wavering from the dead weight Pike realized whom he held.

“Ave!” Pike gasped. “What the hell happened to you?”

The only response he got from the apparition was an unconscious moan.
Pike half-dragged him forward into a dimly glowing room, which was completely empty and had no other way out. Pike laid Ave on the floor and for the first time got a good look at the wound.

“Oh, dammit this is bad!” Pike looked about and saw a trail of blood leading from the middle of the huge room to one wall. There was a splatter of blood on the wall and another trail to where the door, from which Pike had come, used to be.

Looking back to Ave, Pike made a double take for there by his side was his long forgotten backpack.

“I don’t know where you came from, but I’m glad you’re here!” Pike fervently dug through the pack pulling out bandages, hemostats, sutures, and herbs.

Ave’s unaware eyes half opened then cringed shut again. “Hngh!” He groaned, his chest tightening in pain.

Suddenly Pike heard a woman yelp. He swung around to see that a door had appeared across the room, and a bright light as if from a blazing sun cascaded into the room.

“He may have a chance,” Pike choked. “Draca! Ignia! I need your help!”

The two women looked to him in surprise.

“Pike?” Draca squinted into the dim glow.

“Ave!” Ignia ran to them closely follow by Draca.

“Pike, what happened?” Draca demanded falling next to the pack and pouring over the surgical supplies without missing a beat.

“I don’t know,” Pike told her. “I found him like this.”

Ave screamed in sudden pain.

“Do we have anything to kill the pain?” Draca asserted.

“It won’t help.” Ignia knelt by Ave. “He’s beyond feeling physical pain.”

Ave cried out clutching his head with both hands.

“Look how he uses that arm,” Ignia said calmly. “He doesn’t even know he’s wounded. It’s his mind. His own mind is killing him.”

“Stop it, Ave! You’re hurting yourself!” Draca tried to restrain him.

“AAAHHH!” Ave struggled beneath her and Pike.

“What’s wrong with him!?” Pike asked urgently.

“He conquered his test,” Ignia explained, “but his mind is trying to revert back to its old patterns. He has to fight it or he’ll die!”

Ave threw Draca from him, and screamed digging his nails into his scalp.

“Elisium drought!” Draca told Pike.

Pike immediately grabbed the plastic jar labeled “Elisium”.

“How do I get him to drink it?” Pike asked.

“He can’t,” Draca realized, then a thought hit her. “We’ll have to pour it into the wound; it’ll go into his bloodstream.”

“Right!” Pike tossed the jar to Draca and held Ave’s shoulder with all his strength. Draca expertly drizzled the potion into the wound. Ave unknowingly thrashed, every cord in his neck taught.

“Nngh!” Ave gasped. “Hnn! Huhh…” His muscles slowly relaxed, and his struggling weakened. With a whimpering gasp he fell back.

“Quick! We have to stop the bleeding!” Draca seized a plastic sack with hemostats inside.

Ignia moved in between his fanned wings and rested Ave’s head on her lap. She put a slender hand to his panting and cringing face.

“He’s feverish,” Ignia observed. “But he’s not a fire apparition. Is that a good or bad sign?”

“No idea,” Draca said as she snapped a glove on and then proceeded to smear medicinal herbs deep into the wound.

“Please…”

“Shush.” Ignia looked down at Ave’s pallid face.

“Please…” he rasped again.

“Don’t try to speak,” Ignia said, putting her palm to his cheek.

“Please!” Ave’s face scrunched in mental pain. “Please don’t leave me!”

Ignia’s heart sunk. “No,” she breathed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t!” he gasped trying to reach for an invisible someone. He threw his head back, his chest heaving. “AH- AAHHH!”

“You’re sure I’m not hurting him?” Draca asked.

Ignia nodded, her eyes shut, and her throat too tight to speak.

Time stretched, and exhausted Ave fell silent. It didn’t take long until Draca had finished with the inner sutures and Pike handed her more herbs, which she spread over the raw flesh. She then began stitching up the skin. Through all this Ave lay still, panting, eyes staring into nothingness. Ignia felt warm water on her knee, and then realized that salt tears flowed freely from Ave’s pained eyes.

Finally Draca and Pike wrapped bandages around his shoulder. Now all they could do was wait.

“No!” Ave gasped, unable to control the sudden attack. “I won’t- Hng!” His teeth clenched and chin tucked to his chest. It was then that his mind fell. Ave’s screams rang out and his tears froze on his face. Suddenly his breath caught and he fell back, every droplet of water on his body already crystallized.

“Ave, no!” Ignia begged, holing his freezing face. “No, you have to fight it!”

“Stop…” he rasped his hand grasping a fist full of his own feathers. “MEA, STOP!!!”

“Mea?” Pike repeated in epiphany.

“I don’t understand,” said Draca.

“Who’s Mea?” Ignia asked. However, Pike ignored them and lunged to Ave.

“Ave, listen to me!” Pike demanded. “Listen! Whatever you made her death mean, you can give it up without giving up Mea!”

Ave blinked, and seemed to have heard Pike.

“Her death is in the past,” Pike insisted. “It doesn’t have to define you. Let her memory be a comfort to you, not a burden. Remember her in love, not in fear!”

Ave panted in pain, his breath freezing in the air. He gave a small thrash with a sharp gasp, and his eyes closed. When he opened them again the three about him were shocked to see awareness in his expression.

“Aagh!” Ave cringed as he took back up the fight.

“No!” Ave gasped. “I won’t let you…”

Ave’s eyes closed as he once again grasped control over his own mind. “I WON’T LET YOU CONTROL ME!!!”

***

The soft glow of the room matched Ave’s soft breathing, and Ignia’s soft stroking of his hair. Ave breathed deep as he awoke from a long slumber through which Ignia, as Guide and friend, did not leave his side.

“I had forgotten what it was like to sleep,” Ave said in a low breath. “I had forgotten of the moment between the sleeping and the waking worlds where no reality exists and there is no such pain as thought.”

Ave looked up at Ignia. “How long have you been watching over me?”

Ignia did not stop stroking his hair, the feel of which she had fallen in love with. “You asked me not to leave. And nonetheless, I wanted to stay.”

“I remember now,” Ave said, carefully sitting up; Draca and Pike stopped what they were doing and looked to him. “You were each with me,” Ave said. “I… thought I was dieing. Or already dead. I didn’t know.”

Ave looked to his shoulder, his fingers brushing the bandages. “Who…?” Ave’s quiet voice trailed off.

“Draca’s quite the surgeon,” Pike smiled, nudging his sister. Draca grinned back, looking bashfully pleased with herself.

“If you get an infection I’ll cut off my hand,” Pike beamed and Draca blushed and looked up at Ave.

“Thank you,” Ave said, will all the sincerity of ‘you saved my life’.

Draca nodded, diffidently ecstatic to know his gratitude.
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Shrike
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The Spikeadelic One
Ok, so Ave had already told Pike about Mea (appropriate name, by the way B)). So they're in Allecto's temple, doing the same tests that initiates go through? From which Ignia got the nickname Charon? It makes sense now. So once they get through these challenges, they'll be able to get to the Erinyes itself and destroy it....yes?

As far as typos, here's what I noticed:

Pike screamed in shocked fear as a bloody body fell atop him.
Nothing really wrong here I guess, but instead of atop I would use on top of or something. Atop doesn't really imply motion, at least not my sense of it. And the sentence kind of flows off the tongue easier written the other way.

Pike made a double take
I think you would say, Pike did a double take.

Ave cried out(,) clutching his head with both hands.
Put a comma in there.

and exhausted Ave fell silent.
I would write it "and Ave fell silent, exhausted" or "and, exhausted, Ave fell silent."

Ignia begged, holing his freezing face.
Holding his freezing face, it sounds like she's stabbing him or something. :D I know that's not what you meant, it just throws the whole mental image off completely. :lol: :lol:

I had forgotten (of) the moment between the sleeping and the waking worlds
Take out that "of", it's unnecessary.

I… thought I was dieing
It's spelled "dying".

Or already dead
"Or was already dead."

diffidently ecstatic
That sounds like a contradiction to me. Was she pleased, or did she not care? Just a minor question.

Ok, I think that's it, otherwise great passage! I hope this helps. Sorry I took so long in responding, I got distracted by other stuff and it kinda took a back seat in my head, but I was meaning to do it soon. Aglareb rodyn le nair. B)
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Ignia
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Hmm... I see what you're saying with those.

Holing :lol: I didn't even know that was a word! Typos are fun!

But I was under the impression diffident meant shy? As if she's ecstatic but too shy to show it....

*runs for dictionary*

diffident 1. lacking confidence in one's own ability, worth, or fitness; timid; shy. 2. hesitant or tentative in manner; reserved

Hmm.... I used that word because I mispelled definitely and my computer switched it to diffidently, and upon asking for synonyms I found it gave a really good image of being timid yet so very happy.

Thoughts on this?

Nolite dicere in Grecium! I don't understand a word of it!

;) what's the latin word for Greek?!
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Shrike
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The Spikeadelic One
:lol: Lol no, it's Elvish (just to confuse you even more :P ). Same with "seleg nai aman, alag nai linte". I got a book on Tolkien's languages of Middle-earth yesterday, and it includes a section on Elvish grammar and an English-Elvish dictionary! So cool. :bitey:

Huh. I thought diffident meant like apathetic or uncaring or something, but I guess I have to bow to the dictionary definition. So it was right after all! Well, never mind then.

Non in Graeciam dico! Non scio quomodo.
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Ignia
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Well, I asked my dad what he thought, and knowing the real definition, still said it was a contradiction in terms because escatic implies out-going enthusiasm.

Whatever. I think I'll be changing it whether its oxymoronic or not (oxymoronic! Thats a fun word! I just made it up!)

Elvii alti sunt. Hobiti parvi sunt. Ignia languistam Elvii non amat. Ignia aut plus viris Elvii amat! Elviine Igniam amant? :P

Wow I think the hardest construction in there is abl. of comparrison!
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Kithas
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I have to say, it's really well written (even if if could use a little grammatical and spelling work) but I just couldn't read the whole thing. You lost me right near the beginning, cause I just don't know what was going on. It seems like I came in in the middle of the story. Or near the end, I really can't tell. Otherwise good stuff though.
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Ignia
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Kithas. I think it's time someone's told you:

Don't post if you don't have anything to say.

If you want to give someone advice on her story, it's a little necessary that you read it.
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Dartanion
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Brackenwood Lightweight
i beleive so too, and i think he knows this but just wasnt thinking of that particullar thing at that moment, but when you said it he remembered.

yay, nothing was said and i still posted
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Turnip05
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Majestic Turnip
Love the story! Hope you will write more :D
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Kithas
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I did have something to say. I said it was really well written but confusing. Maybe I didn't use that word, but that's what I said. Christ, what kinda bug crawled up your ass?
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Phoenixphire44
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Kithas
Oct 5 2005, 01:12 PM
I did have something to say. I said it was really well written but confusing. Maybe I didn't use that word, but that's what I said. Christ, what kinda bug crawled up your ass?

Allright kids, time for some Phoenix mediation.... Kithas, I have a scotch on the rocks for you. And Ignia, scrawny skank moving in on Siggy *cough cough*, here is a sex on the beach. Drink up the both of you and be friendly! ;)
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Kithas
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Hey, I'm friendly. Who ever said I wasn't friendly? I'd like to know who's going around saying I'm not friendly...so I can kill them. With a claw hammer. Like that one kid....god dammit. Yeah, super friendly. Sorry if I got angry Ignia. It's what I do apparently. I'll try to keep myself more calm next time.
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Ignia
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Lady of Roman Fire
*SLLUUUUURP* MMmmmmmm.... I love sex on the beach.
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Kithas
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OH MY GOD!!! The things I could write about that slurp. You make it to easy Ignia. But then I imagine you did that on purpose. You saucy little thing you.
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Ignia
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