Crushed Violet

[*UQT]

She went in for another appointment at the house of healing.  A bit of talking later and both Danae and Argent were stumped.  The more detailed information they got about her symptoms, the less it sounded like mere trauma.  Danae and Argent looked at each other and seemed to agree in a glance.  They needed to observe her sleep and attempt more direct influence over the dreams. 

She laid down nervously.  Every time she closed her eyes was like walking willingly into torture, but a person cannot stay awake forever.  She waited for them to be ready, and then slowly closed her eyes.

When she awoke she didn't remember all the dreams, but she felt all the pain.  Argent was limping and muttering.  Danae was writing furiously, and her brow was knitted with concern. 

This was not merely traumatic dreams.  Argent kept checking his leg, sure he had felt himself being hamstrung in trying to stand between her and the curse.  Whatever magic it was... It tore through a seventh circle spell and tossed him like a ragdoll.  

Sending her back into that restless torture was unacceptable.  The argent cast a spell over her that would place her in a coma.  She also had a powder refined from a sacred tree that gave relief.  Sleep in Violet's case simply could not be allowed to continue normally or the curse would hijack her dreams.  Eventually she would return to Argent for scrolls of the coma-inducing spell.  In a few days time she looked rested again, but expensive powders and comatose states were no way to live. 

Who had done this to her?  She was sent to Tasha to see what more might be divined.  Tasha examined Violet with a thoughtful scowl.  She said the school of magic was blood, likely shamanistic.  What shaman had she pissed off this badly?  It didn't make sense.  

Tasha thought that maybe there would be clues in the dreams themselves.  There were two problems with that.  One was that she wasn't dreaming currently thanks to the coma spell.  Second it was a little hard to pay attention to all the details of traumatic memories when you are reliving them.  You don't exactly have much conscious ability to analyze around the second time the whip falls on your back.  Violet immediately had the thought that if her dreams could be observed there might be clues... 

Then she thought of her 12 year old self crying and begging... Then her 18 year old self near-naked and howling as the whip came down across her back...

A rush of guilt and shame overtook her.  She was not strong in those moments or any others by her measure.  As badly as she needed answers, she diverted talk away from any such activity.  

I don't want them to see me like that... I don't want him to see me like that...



Such is true victimization.  When the victim becomes "unreasonably" ashamed of themselves. Guilt and shame take up the spots where outrage and vengeance should be. 

[*UQT]

She soaked in that custom bath she had built.  It was big enough for two easily and the light through the stain glass was oddly soothing.  She thought on her life these past years and wondered just how long she'd been under this curse.  She marveled with a bit of morbid pride that she had survived it this long.  Mentally, she flipped whatever shaman had cursed her the bird. 

She had the scrolls and the power to place her in a coma for 8 hours every night, and still she wondered what it was doing to her not to dream.  It was a silly question.  Because of the curse she never dreams.  She only sees what the curse wants her too.  She gave a rueful chuckle.  Was it really any wonder she felt like even she could not make sense of her actions or decisions at times?  What does it do to a person to never dream for years on end?  To have any hope of dreams co-opted by hateful visions?

He actions during the day had always been somewhat chaotic.  She kept herself moving and the conversation lively to keep herself from slowing down enough to think on those dreams.  She kept herself in motion so that her paranoid and damaged mind would not whisper awful things to her about anyone that dared to get close.  It seemed that if she took the moment to consider anything that was said, she found the worst in it.  Who could blame her for being messed up like that when her dreams were alive and trying to tear her apart?

She stepped out of the bath, prepared with violet extract.  It was a new thing she was trying out.  She had money for a change.  She might as well grant herself some luxury.  Especially now that Captain Flin had been paid for the Jammer and she had bought this apartment... What else did she have to spend it on?  She considered some more specialized gear, and maybe a bigger, nicer place some months or years down the road. 

She toweled off and smiled softly.  As bad as things were, this was far from the worse she had it.  She had never been in a place where she could consider erecting a house, custom built for her.  She stopped, her heart skipped.  Then again... She'd already seen the home she wanted to live in. 

But I ruined that.  

The truth of it was that the curse ruined that, but the mind of a victim is a shamed and self-loathing place.  She gave out forgiveness easily, in most cases, because she desperately needed to forgive herself... Which she couldn't do. 

She laid her head down and pulled out the scroll. 



She read it and darkness took her for another 8 hours.  One still had to wonder...  What affect is taken on the mind after years of dreamless and tortured sleep, and how might the curse react to being completely cut off from inflicting it's primary damage?  It was hungry, swimming about in her blood...

And it could whisper to her during the day... Which no one yet knew. 

[*UQT]

It was like a itch that couldn't be scratched.  She just felt off balance for some reason. Everything seemed to irritate her.  Klo continued to argue why scrying her blood was a good idea. 

"The shaman probably thinks you are dead by now," She said, "No reason to block a scry."

Violet had already said the idea was worth a shot, why was Klo fixating?

She thinks you are stupid... She thinks you won't try it... She acts like your friend but she's a devil.  She laughs at your foolish mortal ways. 

Violet shook her head to clear the voice.  She had been paranoid for many years with good reason, but the better rested she became the louder and more insistent that darker, damaged side of her got.  She frowned to herself. 

From trying to drink yourself to death and push out everyone you love, to paranoid, twitchy freak.  You are always out of one hole and into another.  What a sad sod you are.  Why do you keep trying?

She shook her head again and went for a walk.  She walked out to the secret valley and laid her head on her knees.  Argent had suggested meditation, so she tried to relax and clear her mind.  That just gave the voice space to echo off the walls of her slowly crumbling mind.

None of them really like you.  Even Lance was always just looking for a reason for things to fall apart.  Kelth only pretends to care because Lance told him to pitty you.  Sharon thinks you are a pain in the arse, and Leyana wants you as some kind of pet.  Frin's just here to live free under your roof and eat your food. If you were penniless she'd ditch you.  Klo's waiting to contract you and own your soul. 

She grabbed her head and howled, "NOOOOooo! Leave me alone!"

And the voice went silent for now.  For now...

She hung her head and cried.

[*UQT]

Tick... Tick... Tick... Tick... 

She passed a clock and the sound of it thundered in her ears.  She walked past a mage and heard the abrasive rub of his heavy woolen robes as they rubbed together.  Then a fly buzzed past and she swore she could see the sound produced by his buzzing wings. 

That's right... Tell them that you can see sound. You're already twitching at every little thing and scratching your arms raw.  They'll put you in the Gatehouse for sure.

She walked into the square anyway.  The minute she leaned against the wall she regretted it.  There were too many people.  The fire was roaring too high, and the pop of the sap in it was making her want to crawl out of her skin.  James said something about cutting gems.

Run... Go ahead and run away.

She took the bag of rough gems to the cutting bench and went to work.  Bunch of cruddy gems... By now she new the gems veins in the area by the quality and type they normally produced.  These were plane of earth... First level of the cave.  She asked, and he confirmed it. Maybe one stone from Limbo.  She picked up a rough diamond... Yep, that had to be it, and it cut to flawless quality.

She didn't know what gems were going for these days... So she handing him the bag and told her to give her a fee once he knew the market value of what she'd cut for him. He toddled off with his bag of gems and she took her opportunity to exit.  She needed to fight.  She needed to feel strong again.  Everything was closing in.  

That might work... Shake the stress off, but for how long?

"SHUT UP!" She yelled at the air as she carved her way through the beastlands. Luckily no one was there to hear.  When she returned to Sigil she was able to find Lance and Loth.  She had the first reasonable conversation with them she'd had in a while.  

By the time she got home, however, even the sound of her own breathing gave her pause.

Hahahaha, you staved it off for a few hours and now it's worse.  What an idiot.  Why don't you just swan dive off the roof already. You're worthless.

Violet looked very long and hard at the bar in her livingroom. 

[*UQT]

Silver eyes opened from a long sleep.

Silence...

There was no voice in her head cackling at her despair.  It was oddly unsettling.  The most annoying buzz can be comforting if you have suffered it for years.  It becomes your "normal" state, and deviations from normal trigger a mildly anxious reaction.  She closed her eyes, took a breath, and smiled.  

I will get used to it.

She opened her eyes and looked to the side of the bed.  She was mildly disappointed that he was not at her side, but she knew that was silly.  Goodness knows how long she was out and he couldn't be expected to stay by her side every moment of every day indefinitely.  

She looked down at her flimsy arms.  She'd lost weight, and she had precious little to spare.  She sat up and groaned.  Everything was stiff, sore and disused.  She was then hit by her less than complimentary smell.  You can only do so much to properly bathe dead weight.  She was sure they'd tried.  She tested out her legs, which promptly gave out beneath her.  No one came to the sound of her fall, which she was grateful for.  

She collected herself up again and then called down the hallway to her caretaker.  They were no where to be found and she was not in good enough shape to look, so she left a note.  She thanked what little luck she had that she was close to her apartment and she managed the short walk home.  It wasn't her normal faultless, graceful stride, but she made it.  She took that as a victory for now.

She drew the water and lounged in the warm water until it went completely cold.  She had just pulled a loose velvet robe over her head when his voice called out to her.  She wanted to run to him, but her legs were not ready and she hit the ground again.  She got up and stiffly, slowly, made it to him.  Then she fell again.  This time it was into his arms.  It was one of those moments that could have been intensely romantic.  Instead she just stared up at him, wide-eyed and blushing like a fool.  He helped her to the couch and they talked a while.  

Their souls had been connected, and their dreams still were.  She felt barmy asking, but he confirmed it.  He looked troubled and mentioned a man in her dreams trying to talk to him through her.  It was the kind of thing that should have concerned her.  It should have at least filled her with outrage that once again someone was mucking about in her mind. 

But she just kept looking at him... Truth be told he looked stretched to breaking, and all she wanted was to hold him.  She didn't have the energy for one more wolf at the door.  He was precious to her, so the wolves could take her if they wanted.  He was her focus.  Whoever he'd seen wasn't hurting anything yet, so to the hells with them. 

Tomorrow... I'll deal with all that tomorrow.  Tonight... He needs me. 

So she was herself.  She teased, she argued, she poked at and irritated him.  That was their beautifully dysfunctional way.  

She knew it wasn't good enough.

She knew she wasn't good enough. 

She hoped that she helped even a little. 

In her desk drawer some old correspondence nagged at her.  If he found it, he would surely be cross.  He wasn't the type to look through her things though, so she put it out of her mind. 

[*UQT]

He was woken by his servants in the dead of night.  That was only allowed for one visitor.  He rushed down to his private meeting hall where an elf awaited him.  

"Is it ready?" He asked.

The elf frowned and gave a single nod.  The elf produced a milky blue stone, and looked long upon it as the man held out his hand.

"It requires one more component..." The elf said, not giving up to the man. 

"Oh? What?" The man asked. 

There was a deep sigh from the elf.  He closed his eyes and gripped the stone tight in his fist.

"You saved my people," The elf said gently, "When I told you I would repay you, I never dreamed you would ask something like this..."

The man's expression darkened, "Well I did, now let's complete it."

The elf's eyes opened and looked at the man like a concerned father, knowing a child was making a horrible mistake.  He plead a final time, "Good can be born of evil. This is not the answer.  Please rethink this."

"I will -not- have my legacy fall to ruin," The man growled.

"No, you will just judge it and end it as soon as it vaguely shames you," The elf scowled, "You humans and your impatience and pride.  So one generation falls.  A new one takes it's place."

"You asked me what I wanted, you said you would supply it!" The large, well-muscled man advanced and gripped the elf's fine silk collar.

The elf looked coolly back at him and said, "And I shall... I shall give you the -curse- you desire."

There was not a flinch from the long, slender elf.  He just looked at the man and added, "Now remove your hands from my person."

The man slowly relaxed, seeming lightly ashamed of his actions.  He released the elf's collar and took a step back, "Right, sorry... I hurt more than I don't these days.  Life was easier when I was just a warrior.  All these politics... Reading between the lines of the words the other three families say... I wasn't made for this, I am too honest."

He looked at the stone and added, "I fear what my sons will become, what their sons will become.  I sought a better, easier life, and instead I cannot help thinking I have delivered them to the worst form of danger.  I have delivered them to a life that will rot their souls."

"If you spent as much time teaching them as you do worrying over what other people are teaching them you might make a difference," The elf rebutted, "But it seems you've chosen you course."

"I have."

There was a long pregnant pause as they stared each other down.  The elf finally closed his eyes and dipped his head muttering, "You humans will never learn.  Every time you make a decision in fear, anger or frustration you bring so much more than yourself to ruin."

He produced an ornate dagger from his robes and said, "Give me your hand."

The man looked at the elf and held out his open hand. Without a word the elf sliced his palm.  The elf dropped the dagger and grabbed the man's hand before he could pull it back.  The elf's eyes blazed with white light as he place the stone into the man's hand.  The elf uttered the words of an old, near forgotten, and completely forbidden spell.  The stone soaked in the man's blood and then erupted with light.  Words were projected on every wall from the stone and the elf let go of the man. 

The man stared in wonder at the walls and the writing glowing upon them. The light then dimmed, and all he had in his hand was an ugly, bloody, blue stone. 

"It is done," The elf muttered, "The lives of my people are repaid, at the price of our souls."

[*UQT]

It had been about two months since the encounter with Eliza, and Violet had been in a coma for most of it.  She was a shell of her former strength and she meant to amend that.  There was a knock at the door.  She opened it and a courier stepped in to deliver an obscene amount of rich food from various places about the city.  She welcomed him in and had him collect yesterday's leavings.  She then settled in to eat until she was uncomfortably full.  She was used to cooking for herself, but given her state, it was best to have food delivered and not overdo it over a hot stove. 

After first, she just tried to walk without stumbling.  On her first day she'd tried some dancing exercises and got to a count of one before she almost could not pick herself up off the floor.  For the past few days she'd walked circles around her living room.  One way for five laps then the other for five laps so she wasn't always turning in one direction.  By day three she was holding onto the edge of her huge bathtub and kicking with her legs as she floated to strengthen them.  She was making progress, but it was far less than she liked.  

A few days later she put on her gear and took a walk around the Clerk's ward and to the Bazaar.  She didn't show it outwardly, but when she leaned into the wall it was to keep her from collapsing. With all her gear on it was hard to tell she'd lost any weight, and she kept her cowl low to mask her sunken cheeks and the white blaze at the top of her hair. She stayed for some time, making conversation, but really she was trying to recover enough to walk back home. 

Finally she did.  Only one person present that day probably knew what a feat she had just accomplished.  Once home she stuffed herself silly again, and then passed out into her bed, with most of her gear still on. 

[*UQT]

Almost two months of training and recuperation was paying off.  If she had to gauge her own abilities, she was even harder to hit and cut deeper.  She left a cinnamon roll in his office and headed out.  She let herself start socializing again.  She frequented the bazaar, and helped a few new ringwalkers survive.  Then she swung by her place to pick up a familiar object.

There were a lot of new faces.  She mused over them as she rolled the milky blue sapphire in her hands.  For a moment, she thought she saw a flash of light in its depths, but she knew better.  She couldn't see the pulse of blue light that shown in her own silver eyes.  She laid down and looked at it, her chesnut hair spilling out across the couch cushion. 

----------------------------------------------------

In another place and time, outside of Delzimmer a young warrior broke through the line at an orcish settlement.  The orcs had taken to raiding caravans and picking people off the edge of his city.  As a struggling young merchant, this was bad for business.  The battle was bloody, many were lost, but he made it to the chieftan, a female in this case.  She cackled up at him. 

"You have won dis day," She spoke well for an orc, "But you lose in all ways that matter to men."

"What nonsense are you spewing?" He snarled at her.

"Olaundran will be a cursed name," She sneered, "You will become rulers in the world of men and then your legacy will fall, causing great ruin and strife to all."

He rolled his eyes, "I look like a bloody noble to you? Shut your mouth, witch."

"Not witch, am seer," she cackled, "Your family will move to a place where the streets glitter, gold will be the honor they chase.  They will be big men with small souls.  You will leave this world with people chanting your name, but those of your line will turn that chanting to cursing as-"

He's hear no more.  Her head was separated from her shoulders.  Her severed head still bore a cursing smile.

He took off his helmet and shook the sweat from his chesnut hair as he said, "Burn the bodies." 

[*UQT]

It was a year later.  Gauthklaun Olaundran rode along on his quarter horse with a gloved hand extended.  A red tail hawk glided through the treeline and landed on his extended hand.  An elf rode beside him and spoke, "This prophecy that worries you so... The ramblings of an orcish seer?"

"Yeah, that's right," He said placidly, "I didn't think nothing of it until I met my wife... Should have been an easy thing, not becoming a noble."

"Women have a way of making us want to better ourselves," The elf nodded, "Now you rule a city, with two other merchant lords."

The grizzled warrior grunted, "And she wants to go to Sembia.  That den of villainy.  The boys are keen on it as well.  Ruling one city isn't enough."

"You are the patriarch," The elf muttered, "You can refuse."

"I could, and when Yolaun is of age he'll move the family there anyway," Gauthklaun hung his head, "You remember what you said when I saved your group?"

"I do, if you have need," The elf started, "I would give you any price."

Gauthklaun was silent a long moment, "I have lived my life with honor and honesty, and I have seen how power and money corrupts with my own eyes.  I don't want to let it come to that.  If my line becomes unworthy, I'd rather it ended before it unleashes any true villainy on the world."

"Perhaps I missed it?" The elf looked at the man cooly, "Was there a request in there?"

The man nodded releasing his hawk again to the hunt.  He produce an old, worn scroll and tossed it to the elf, "I found this under a dragon... Looks to be elvish and mentions something called a judgement stone.  I want you to make one for me."

The elf arched a brow and then looked over the scroll.  His eyes went wide and he muttered an elvish curse.  He rolled it back up, "I wonder if you really comprehend what you are asking.  This is ancient, and deeply forbidden magic."

[*UQT]

Yolaun trembled before the milky blue stone.  Old Gauthklaun watched him sternly with grim determination on his face.  Gray had grown into the warrior's chestnut hair. He was the head of one of the ruling families of Delzimmer and soon his family would go to Sembia to the estate he had prepared there.

He can't be serious... Yolaun thought.  It won't really kill me if I am bad will it?

"Touch the stone boy," OG muttered, "You are of age now.  Time to prove you have what it takes to lead this family."

The young man trembled and reached for the stone.  An arch of blue light licked up against his fingertips and he braced for the end.

But nothing happened. Gauthklaun was well pleased and passed his wealth and title to Yolaun.  Yolaun had already taken over most of the family trade with his brother, but this made it official.