Songs in the Dark

I lick the blood from my teeth with a grin. The blow comes stinging, but I couldn't care less. Even a caged otter can bite.
The lights are too bright, and my head is still ringing, pain in my limbs. But if they think that pain will make me lie quiet, they're going to regret the assumption. I grin up at my captors with a hiss, displaying my bloodstained teeth. I hope I look as vicious as I feel. "Jump in the water and the rocks will cut you." I snarl. It's pure bravado, but it feels good to say.

Taking a cloth from his breast pocket, the tall figure wipes the flecks of blood from the back of his gloved hand. "The only reason your alive, mutt, is leverage; leverage which you may well serve for less intact." Glancing down at his shirt front, he scowls in distaste upon discovering a minute speck staining his otherwise perfect shirt. "You'll live, of course, but prophecies are lacking in many details."

I hiss. "Cheap words from a cheap and lying tongue, yellow blood. Besides, you've got your head so far up your ass that you wouldn't know a true word if it bit you." I grin, the taste of his blood sweet on my tongue. This time, it's a blow to the gut.Pain makes me double over. But I still manage to look up at him, and hiss.

A door opens behind Liv, and another tall figure steps through, this one dress uniform typical of German military. "That's enough, Seiriol." a chilled voice growls from over Liv's as a cold, gentle touch lands on the back of her neck. The elf before her bows quickly in acknowledgement and retreats a step back, a hint of fear in his eyes before he recomposes himself. "Dear child," the voice bends down so as to be next to Liv's ear, "My lieutenant can be rather... enthusiastic... in his duties. You're mine to do with what I will, child of the muddied waters."

I look up blearily, and laugh hollowly. "Well hello again, spot-face. The odds are quite a lot more to your tastes this time, I'd bet. One Dratsie chained to a chair against two high and mighty Elves. Yes, that's your sort of odds." His face stiffens, and I grin, half-snarling.

"Silence becomes one in your position, Miss Sruth. You have a great talent for trouble, but you're out of your depth here." He touches the scars inflicted in Strangefellows. "As sweet as vengeance would be, you are not my primary objective at the moment."

I draw a deep breath. "Really?" And I do the only thing I can. I raise my voice, and my gift.
"Oh all hail the sons of Maeve,
All hail the high ones of the Court of Titania,
mighty are they and wise, and beautiful upon the land
Strong of arm and of blade
perfect are they."
My voice drips with scornful laughter, with hate.
"Is this what I see? Or is it only a glamour, a thing of smoke and ashes, of lies and shadows?
No great ones here, only dwindling and pettieness, no hope in them."
Now my voice grows strong as I speak with my eyes closed, the terrible truth in my words inescapable.
"Their blades sharp only with bile and bitterness, defeated creatures sterile and impotent
Bitter despair their only lot
fading away their only future
Ignomany their only word
They have forgotten all honor, all goodness
They disrespect the bards of the hall, they ignore the laws of the Kindred
And they dwindle further each day, only cobwebs and old memories of glory now
Goblins to scare the little ones in the night
Men broken and worthless, men with nothing left them but lies and deciet
their bodies weak and aging, corrupted with drugs and despair, their magics failing and weak
They are men of little worth, and none shall listen to their words
Their-"
Pain. Blackness.

"Damn it," the whispered curse spins around the room as the shadowed figure in longcoat steps from now-where, a small, winged quadruped proceeding him by half a step. His hand flutters to his chest where a dim glow permeates his tunic as he looks around the dimly lit chamber. Cursing again as he sees the crumpled figure laid out against the back wall; crouching, he gently brushes hair from the fresh gash along her for head. As he mutters to himself, the room seems to waver a moment and he once again touches the dark bruise growing on her forehead. Nodding tersely to himself, he sits cross legged, fanning the tails of his coat behind him. The feathered figure jumps to his shoulder; instinctively, he reaches up to scratch behind his companions ear. A third head pokes from beneath his collar, chirping to demand attention of its own. Sliding his hand from one head to another he runs his finger from brow to nose of the tiny serpent's head, quieting it as he watches the inert figure.

Pain. Pain in my gut, pain in my head...I sit up, wincing in the half light, one hand running up across the back of my head. I curse in my own tongue. There's a sigh.
I freeze, my eyes still closed. Someone in here.
Slowly, I open my eyes. More enemies.
But the man I see is the best thing I could have imagined.
"Hey." I whisper, grinning despite the pain in my cheek. "Not a very long trip, was it?"

"Can't stay out of trouble two days, can you?" He sighs, reaching out and touching the tender spot at her brow again. "The connection called me back."

I nod. Even with the pain, I felt the light burning. "They have lined the space between the walls in iron. I can't get out."

"Could," He looks at her thoughtfully. "Can't you decay the iron of hinges, telling it of its old age? Or convince a loose stone it is the key to the tumblers. You have a better mind then that."

I shake my head, trying to clear it. "Okay. If I can just...clear my mind...damn headache..." I reach inside, singing my body back into harmony. It's easier than I expected. Djhuety smiles.

Smiling impish, Djehuty looks at the door. "So, how are you getting us out of here, river queen?" Sylus cocks his head in question and even his coatl chirps.

"Bard." I say tiredly. "I need no title but bard."
Raising my head, raising my gift, I turn to the door, and begin to sing. I sing of water dripping on metal, of time, ages passing, of the weight of years. I think of old treasures buried with the dead; even the finest steel and bronze corrodes in the dark, in the earth. I sing of ages and of age.
The door creaks.
I don't know how long I sing, holding my focus, devoting it to the door, before it shudders and crumbles into powder. I draw a deep breath, in weariness and in triumph. Why didn't I do that before?!
Because I didn't believe I could. I grin at Djhuety. "You ready for a fight?

"Ready enough, but I would rather explore." He motions to the corridor, "There's been buzzings in certain circles of... something."

I frown. "There are elves in here. Exploring might not be the best plan...oh, and human guards, somewhere. I'm not..."my legs wobble as I stand- "really in the shape for holding a glamoury over us."

"We look the Part," he shrugs, "the choice is yours of course." Tucking his hair under a captains cap, he eyes Liv's uniform a moment, brushing a mote of dust from her shoulder. "You know, a skirt isn't half bad on you."

I look up at him in surprise, and grin. "Very nice. Very nice indeed!" Then I glance down. "Though I can't say I agree. My legs are too long and bony." Then I take his hand. "Okay. Let's go."

Bending an elbow, Djehuty offers his arm to Liv. Humming a few bars of Phantom of the Opera, he whispers, "Down once more" and steps out, letting his instincts lead the way, the odd twist of the gut that permitted him to follow the Story.

Through a maze of passageways I follow my friend, unsure where he's leading. It's clammy, the feeling you get below the earth and nowhere else. At times men pass us, but to my delight they only salute and go on their way. Djhuety gets better and better at his work.
After a little time, we enter a near-empty room, lined in mirror. I cock my head. "Maybe we ought turn around. This feels...wrong."

Wincing as his gut twists a knot, Djehuty studies the walls, then the three walls behind, each slightly distorting the image behind till only a twisted black shape is dimly visible, reflecting into infinity. "What the hell do they have in there?" he mutters, looking for a door. "This is too single minded a cage to be insignificant, Liv. And you're right, it doesn't feel right, whatever it is."

I shiver. My skin is prickling, the hair on my spine, along my arms and down my legs standing on end. Despite myself, I shy away from the cage. Deliberately stepping forward, I stare, fascinated and repulsed both.
The thing in there radiates malaise. It feels the way shed blood tastes. There's something about it that makes my gut clench.
And then it looks up.
I jump back with a hiss, grab Djhuety and pull him out of the room "Get away from it!!" I say, my voice too high and sharp with fear. "Death! It's death!"

More curious yet, Djehuty steps closer, examining the creature. "It hasn't a claim on us, yet. Least of all you..."

The being twists close, foxfires hanging deep in empty hood. "Cheats," it murmurs in a tone that brings to mind autumn leaves amassing on a calm day, "Their all cheats." A sleeve sliding over where the hand should be billows in an expansive motion, revealing the stiff form of a once soldier. "They gave me one to sate me, but I will have them yet, those that withdraw from my face before realizing their fate."

Djehuty steps back in puzzlement. "It may be a Death, but not one that I'm familiar with."

I stand outside the door, shaking. "It's darkness. Death. Djhuety, please, come away. It's....wrong. Perverse. Unnatural."