RP:A 'Lanara' Always Pays Her Debts

Summary: Lanara returns to the lands, after dying three months prior, from an explosion in Frostmaw. The witch reunites with her sister, Talyara, and the two share a bonding moment, as they discover that they are full-blooded biological sisters. Lana fills in Taly about the details that surrounded her death, warns her about their 'father' Thronnel and his intentions, and she vows to get her revenge for what was done to her in the past, as well as protect it from happening again.

The Return:

Talyara was alone, as was usual these past few months. The only steady companion the witch had was Taylor whom seemed more of an extension of Taly rather than her own being. She looks rather like herself in that her hair was still a shade of deep chestnut; it was still a mess of unruly curls. She wore similar clothes in that she donned comfortable leggings and a simple shirt. But that was where the similarities stopped. She had lost a lot of weight, and while she wasn’t emaciated as had been a month or so ago, but she was still too underweight and her bones stuck out of her skin. Her eyes which were once bright green like shining emerald were dull and empty. For now, Talyara sits on the edge of the cliff swinging her legs idly as her arms cross over her chest. A few silent tears run down her cheeks—a few months ago she had been so overflowing with happiness she could burst and then everything was taken from her. Talyara was just a shell of who she used to be, barely hanging on.

Lanara :: The woman walks barefoot up the rugged mountain path, nearing her destination, when she steps on a pebble and nearly loses her footing. Soot covered fingertips peek out from the oversized white cloak she wears, as she clings to an overhead rock to regain her balance. The altitude appears to be making her dizzy as she slightly sways from side to side, though at the last second she hoists herself upwards and lands on her side. The hood falls back and reveals an unruly mane of dark chestnut, which is haphazardly tied into a long braid. Swallowing hard and gasping for air after climbing up such an enormous mountain, she takes a look at her surroundings and sighs heavily. She had reached the mountain top, and she is so grateful to once again see grass, that she rips a fistful of the turf from the ground and inhales the sweet fragrance. Something had drawn her to this location, and though her mind is still very muddled since being brought back to life, she feels as though she had spent some of her happier days in this very spot. Her left wrist begins to pulse and at first she scratches it, thinking she were bitten by a gnat, though as searing pain runs up and down her forearm she begins to whimper. “Wat-Water…” She cries out, the feeling mimicking that of a burn, though as soon as her words fade, she peers at her wrist and spies a newly branded rune tattoo, causing her to quirk a brow. “What the fu-“ Finding herself too weak to even end her inquiry, she crawls to a thicker patch of grass and that’s when her chocolate hues take in the figure sitting at the edge of the cliff. “Do-Do you have any food or water… Miss?”

Talyara feels a tingling tickle the inside of her wrist and she frowns. The tingling soon turns to something more painful and she begins to rub at it, scowling at her flesh. “You’re just mocking my heartbreak,” she hisses at it and tugs down her sleeve as a means to cover it, doing her best to ignore it completely (which only seems to bring about more pain). She hears someone behind her but doesn’t look to see who it is. It could be an assassin for all she cared at this moment in time. Or perhaps it was Krice, tracking her as he only seemed to be able to do. However, the croaking voice is not masculine and the witch stands up a bit straighter. Eventually, Talyara turns and those muddied green eyes land on the disheveled body of her sister. Her eyes widen not in surprise, but horror. With a scream Talyara attempts to backpedal, but as much distance between her and this pseudo-Lanara. “What dark magic is this?!” She exclaims.

Lanara weakly forces herself into a sitting position, and as the pain subsides from her wrist it appears as though an invisible current heads for Talyara, and in turn, brands her opposite wrist. The woman is too weak to fully react to the hysterics of the other, though the shared emblem on their flesh doesn’t go unnoticed. “We are…?” Lana tries to point out that they are somehow related, and as of this moment she hasn’t really gotten a good look at the witch as she is a good distance away, so her words fall short. Aside from being covered in dirt and debris, and suffering from dehydration, Lana looks mostly like she did, before her death. Sure, her hair was longer and her skin was a tad lighter from not seeing the sun in months, and she was nearly to the point of being emaciated, though not much else looked amiss. The white cloak covers most of her body, though her bare feet and fingertips peek out, and where she should have been covered in third degree burns from head to toe, she was unscathed. Even her tattoos were gone, as though the woman was wiped with a magical eraser and reborn, only to reappear in Xalious, where she first had her reunion with her sibling, three years ago. Those big brown eyes are full of suspicion now as she’s accused of dark magic, though a hint of sadness is evident as Taylor prances over to the woman and sniffs at the hem of her long cloak. Lana’s jaw quivers for a split second before her arm darts out and aim to scratch the cat behind her velvety ear. “Tay…” The cat meows softly, nuzzles the appendage, and then retreats to the accusatory witch, as though to say everything was alright.

Talyara yelps out in pain as a searing pain runs along her wrist. For a moment she shakes her sleeve away and looks down at the rune tattoo that is now adorned on her wrist—right where the other one had been. In a moment of panic, the witch begins to rub at it, hoping that she could simply wipe it away. Out of the corner of her eye she senses movement and catches Taylor moving towards the dark sorceress across the way. “Don’t!” She chokes out in an almost sob, afraid that this woman, whoever she is, will injure or perhaps kill the only being Talyara can count on. Eventually, she scrambles to her feet and pats her body, silently cursing herself for not leaving the house without some kind of weapon. She stills, however, when Taylor comes trotting back to her, mewing and looking back at Lanara as if attempting to calm the witch. “Who are you?” Talyara calls out. “Why are you haunting me like this?"

Lanara groans and licks her lips, clearly in desperate need of a drink, and knowing that she is far too weak to get up and retrieve it herself. So instead, she remains sitting campfire style on the grass, being accused of dark magic, rather than served a beverage. “Tay… Tyler… No-no not right… Um…My head.” Reaching up to rub her temples as she tries desperately to remember the name of the feline, she grumbles beneath her breath. “Just leave me to die of thirst and starvation. I would rather die, again, than to be bickered with about magic and what not. I –lost- my magic! And everything bloody else! Only to be revived… Confused. Alone. More dead inside than when I was dead. Just… If you aren’t going to save my life, at least find my sister… Her name is… Uh… Taylor! The cat. Taylor! And my sister’s name is Talyara. She’s… She’s a lovely little witch. Literally. She’s a witch. I’m not making this up, I swear. I know you are afraid I’m ‘haunting’ you and casting spells and all that… But I swear. I…” Unable to continue, Lana begins to cough uncontrollably, and slumps over onto her side, as a single tear trickles down her pale cheek. The minutes tick by as her wrist goes numb, and the cat swishes her tail to and fro, looking from one sister to the other, clearly agitated that the two were so far apart. “I… I need to get to my sister to warn her… But… I’ve failed again.”

Talyara wrinkles up her nose at the initial name. “Tyler? You’re Tyler?” She asks with a quirk of her head. Momentarily, she worries that this is the drow patron again, coming back to taunt her, to bring about her death once and for all. Was he now operating under the guise of a man named Tyler? Talyara nips her bottom lip and inhales sharply. But no…that wasn’t his name and he was dead, trapped. For the briefest of moments Talyara feels sympathy towards this…person. Perhaps she is just an injured elf who happens to resemble her sister and here Taly was accosting her. The witch reaches to her side and pulls out a jar which contains water and begins to walk closer to the woman. Only as she speaks, the witch halts, eyes once more widened. “Th—that’s impossible…” she utters barely above a whisper. “My sister is dead. She blew herself up in my house. I -saw- the wreckage. I -held- her in my arms as she took her last breath. I -buried what was left of her…” As Taly speaks and images of that horrid night pop into her head more tears begin to fall.

Lanara begins to sob on the grass, her soul shattered, her heart broken, and her mind coated in confusion. Now who was playing mind games? First, the woman falsely accused her of using dark magic and stalking her, and now she was claiming to be Talyara?! “Just… Goddess take me, again! Please… I… I don’t deserve this. I don’t want to be tormented. And you!” As her words are now directed towards the witch with the jar, she raises a shaky hand and with a trembling voice, issues a threat of her very own. “I… I swear. If you –dare- to harm my sister, or if you are pretending to be the one that handled my remains, I will slaughter you and all those you hold dear. My little sister was my –everything- and she was the reason for my death and my rebirth! I will not be fooled again. I… I may not look like much right now, but so help me; I will regain my strength and snap your neck like a twig! If I perish, I will haunt you for the rest of your days!” The woman lies on the grass, one arm pinned beneath her form, while the other drops to the grass, as her threat comes to completion. Perhaps that is one thing that hasn’t changed, even after death, the apparent protection the near-death Lana shows, mirrors how she was in her past life. Tears stream down her cheeks, momentarily blinding Taly’s form, as she continues to weep, for that all she had lost, and all she had hoped to regain. “I… I wish I had some of mother’s chocolate chip cookies… With strawberry dipping sauce… If I’m to die, again, I… I hope my next death doesn’t blow my legs off and turn my flesh to raw meat in that tundra…” As the wind picks up, Taylor takes a few hesitant steps nearer to Lana, inhales her scent, and as though that further reassured the cat, she retreats and rubs against Taly’s ankle.

Talyara lets out a low growl as this…this woman begins to threaten her. First she mocks her in her anguish over the death of her sister and then she is threatening her murder! “Well the joke’s on you, wench, because I don’t have anyone left!” She yells, hurling the jar of water towards the woman like a shot-put instead of rolling it in the grass. “You better pray that this wind doesn’t pick up!” She says, waving her hand in front of her manipulating the breeze so it blows directly in the woman’s face, hopefully quieting her threats. Still, the mention of the cookies causes Taly to drop her hand to her side. She’s quiet for a few several minutes, only looking down once Taylor rubs against her legs. Eventually, the empath sinks to her knees. “I preferred her oatmeal cookies,” she says tentatively. “With the yogurt icing. Lanara preferring chocolate because it reminded her of her eyes…"

Lanara sniffles, and as the empath sinks to her knees, she lifts those heartbreak eyes and looks into Taly’s emerald hues. Finally, the two get a good look at each other, and Lana’s heart rate rapidly increases as she manages a small smile. “Taly… You liked oatmeal because you thought the farmer’s son was a scorch cake… I remember Mother used to scream at you. You would wander through his fields, taking –hours- to pick the most perfect of oats to use. You would return home so late we would have to wait until the following day to make the cookies!” Finding it odd that she could remember such an old childhood memory but not the most recent of details, she gnaws on her lower lip, and merely peers up at her sibling, too weak to sit up and pull the witch into an embrace. If that memory didn’t ‘prove’ that she was indeed Lanara, she didn’t know what else to say or do, and she wasn’t sure if her memory would even remember the correct details.

Talyara feels the corners of her mouth twitch into a small smile. “He was incredibly attractive. He would help me pick the crop and that’s why I would take so long gathering it. I wanted to spend more time with him.” Then all at once, Taly is overcome with emotion, falling atop her older sibling and hugging her as tightly and closely as possible as she sobs. “How did…how are you…oh Lana I -missed- you!” She exclaims. In truth, it didn’t matter to the witch how her sister was back or why, only that she was. After calming herself down enough, she would retrieve that jar of water and help her sister sip from it until it was empty. She didn’t have much on her in terms of food but she did offer some berries she had stripped from bushes on her walk here. “You rest now,” she coos to her sister, brushing hair from her face. “I’ll be here when you wake."

Lanara weakly returns the hug, resting her head on her younger sibling’s shoulder, and gulps thirstily from the offered jar. The berries are quickly shoved into her mouth and she forces herself to try and chew, rather than swallow them whole, but to no avail. As her stomach growls angrily in protest from her eating so quickly, she swallows one final handful and wipes the purple juice from her face and lips with the hem of her cloak. “I was so hungry. I… We have –so- much to talk about, sister. I missed you so much. I… Please, stay with me. Don’t leave me. If trouble should arise when I’m asleep, I won’t be any good to you, sister. I was stripped of my magic. I am defenseless. So please, if you can’t protect us, just save yourself. I already died once, just…” The woman looks as though there’s more to say, but she’s so very tired and her eyelids are so heavy, that she nearly falls asleep sitting up. So, following her sister’s advice, she curls back up on the grass and within a matter of minutes, falls into a deep sleep.

The Warning:

Lanara wakes up about eighteen hours later, after a rather restful slumber, and immediately scans the clearing for sight of her sister. Seeing that Taly hadn’t left her during the night, the elf props herself on an elbow, and studies her sibling for a long moment. Talyara looked much the same as she had in Lana’s past life, though truth be told, the woman was far slimmer than she remembered, to the point of near emaciation. Dark circles were beneath her eyes, her lower lip had a slight indent from worrying the flesh with her teeth, and her unruly curls were somewhat frizzy, be it from nerves or heat. Clearly, Lana’s death had hit her hard, and while it brought slight comfort, it also caused a dull ache in her heart. Lana clears her throat now that she had her eyeful of Taly’s condition, and she sits up, hugging her knees to her chest. Her stomach still rumbles from time to time from hunger, and she tries to ignore it as she extends her hand to run her fingertips through the grass. “Taly. I have returned with a purpose. We are both in grave danger. Well… I think I am in less danger than you are as I have already died, and was vanquished of my magic, but you… You are in no less danger than you were when I less saw you. Taly… We are not half-sisters…” Lana’s words trail off, and her dark chocolate eyes brim with tears, as she thought that opening with this stroke of positivity would help to lessen the later evil that awaited her sister. “We are full-blooded. We share the same father. His name is Thronnel… But before we celebrate, I must warn you that…” The elf’s words are cut short as she sees Taly’s emerald hues brightening with moisture, as though she too were deeply touched by this realization.

Talyara had kept a watchful eye on her sister while she slept, but her hands had not been idle. The empathic witch had waited until her sister’s slumber was deep before moving to tend to her wounds. First, she made work of cleaning her sister up, washing her skin of dirt and dried blood, and cleaning out any wounds before wrapping them in fresh bandages. Next, Talyara went to work on Lanara’s hair, washing the matted tresses and and working her fingers through them. It took the most time of all, but eventually Taly was able to get out all the knots and tangles and she left the chocolate hair to dry on its own. When the tending to her sister had been taken care of, the witch set to work setting out the food she had available. It wasn’t much as she hadn’t been eating as of late but there were some roots, dried beef, and some fruit. Seconds turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. At about sixteen hours into Lanara’s slumber, Talyara felt her own eyes start to pull close, her head drooping only to pop back up once she realized she was beginning to doze. Talyara is in some type of half sleep, her eyes partially lidded when Lana’s cough startles her. Her green eyes blink rapidly for a few moments before they settle upon her sister. At her initial words, Taly’s head tilts to the side curiously, her brows knitting slightly. “Danger?” She repeats quietly. Things had been relatively calm for this particular witch and she couldn’t think who or what was trying to hurt her this time. As her sister continues her words, Taly’s mouth falls open at the news that the pair are indeed full blooded sisters. Tears brim those emerald hued irises, the witch overwhelmed with emotion. “Full sisters?” She asks as a rogue tear drips down her cheek. However, the name Thronnel takes her by surprise. She knew that man! “Thronnel? The elf with the red hair and green eyes?” Talyara asks disbelievingly. “But what? How?"

Lanara runs her fingers through her damp locks, relief washing over her newly washed face as she’s able to complete such a feat. Her once silken chestnut hair had become an unruly, tangled mess and she wasn’t able to brush it with her fingers or a comb, for quite some time. It felt so rewarding to do the simplest of tasks, that she momentarily ignores her sister, as she inhales the fresh air and merely relishes that she’s alive, again. Eventually, she lowers her hand and spies the food and her attention is quickly shifted to easing her hunger. Through greedy mouthfuls of dried beef and fresh berries the elf explains what she’s able to recall to her inquisitive and emotional sister. “It’s a really long story. And I remember what led up to my death… But then things get sort of blurry. Okay… So… Oh my gosh, this is so good. I’m starving…” Lana belches, in an unladylike fashion, grins mischievously at her sister, and returns to nibbling on the berries. Her hands are stained with purple juice and the salt rub from the meat clings to her chin, but she continues on with the horrors of her past as though it’s no big deal. Clearly, Lana wasn’t herself, but if using the food and clean hair as a distraction would help her to tell her story, so be it. “A while ago I found out that I was pregnant with Desparrow’s child, and I sought out to get an abortion, in Gualon. I had changed my mind upon nearing the clinic, and when I turned around, I fell and hit my head. When I came to, Bachias had discovered an elven man, by the name of Thronnel. He carried me to a tent, tended to my wounds, and informed me that I had lost the child in the fall. I hemorrhaged. So I spent a few days with the man, and he seemed very nice, but a little ‘too’ interested in me. He was very intrigued when he learned of my craft and that I had a sister in the lands, and he was always referring to my beauty and staring at me. I thought him nothing more than an admirer, thanked him for saving my life, and returned to Cenril. A few months went by and I found a job at Kreekitaka’s clothing boutique, and I was trying to break up this local dog-fighting ring… So I hired Leoxander as a bodyguard for the store and I would go on these little stealth missions to try and free the poor pups. However… One night I was behind on counting inventory, and Leo wasn’t there to guard the shop. I don’t know –where- he went, and I’m not sure where Kree was, either. It was just Taylor and I… There was a knock at the door and it was that man, Thronnel! I… I invited him in and we had a few drinks and one thing led to another… I was so lonely… It had been almost a year since I’ve been with a man, and I think I was a little drunk to be honest…” A soft chuckle escapes Lana here, though her eyes brim with tears as she locks eyes with Talyara. “We… We… We slept together… I had sex with our biological father. I-I didn’t know he was our father… I… I will continue in a moment, I just need a minute to collect my thoughts…” Lana looks away at this, tears silently pouring down her pale cheeks in a steady stream as the night of incestuous horrors replays in her mind. Shame reddens her face as she sniffles, and hugs her bruised legs to her chest. “After he, uh, you know… We cuddled. And he kissed me on the forehead and called me his beloved, his elven princess, his… Kuruni.” There is no need to further explain what she felt, how she connected the dots, and how she came to be confused with their mother. Taly would understand, for she is the smarter of the two siblings. Lana, on the hand, though she is wise, was gifted with beauty. And look where that had gotten her… A night of unadulterated incest!

Talyara watches her sister with a gentle eye, not narrowed in annoyance or anticipation, but one of worry and care. She watches as Lanara works her fingers through her damp tresses silently before reaching towards the foods. Idly, Taly scoots herself behind her older sister and begins to braid her hair back off of her face, just as the elder sister had done for the younger one when they were little. Talyara makes quick work of it though and is soon, sitting back waiting for her sister to explain. Eventually, Lanara finds her voice once more and Talyara is almost immediately stunned into silence. The empath’s normally doe-like eyes seem to widen to their fullest extent and it’s all she could do to leap from her spot and wrap her arms in a bone crushing embrace around her sister. “Oh Lanara! I cannot even begin to imagine what you must have been through. I am so, so sorry that I wasn’t there for you! The loss of your child, the head injury, the manipulation of that…that…” Talyara scrunches up her face in agitation as she attempts to come up with a word strong and evil enough to describe Thronnel. Eventually, a word does come and it’s a terrible slang word, uttered in elven—even in these trying times Lanara might be surprised (perhaps amused) at such a word uttered by her little sister. When Talyara deems that her hug has lasted long enough, perhaps afraid she might have even broken Lanara’s ribs; she places her hands on her sister’s shoulders and fixes her with an intent stare. “Lanara, you listen to me. This isn’t your fault. -None- of this was your fault. That vile, disgusting, sick man manipulated you. I am so, so sorry. So sorry I wasn’t there for you…"

Lanara chokes back a sob as Taly embraces her in a tight, loving hug. Sometimes that’s all it took to reach the rarely vulnerable elf, a certain affection, or a word of understanding. Mixtures of emotions flood the mind of Lanara, as she simply clings to her little sister, her sobs causing them to slow rock from side to side. Eventually, she looks into those beautiful emerald hues, and her chocolate ones stop pooling, as she hears the muttered curse word and Taly’s affirmation that Lana was nothing more than an innocent bystander, with a manipulative father, that had sought out to destroy them, no matter the cost. The older sibling seems to be at a loss for words, as the kindness of her sister strikes her into silence. She wasn’t angry that she had considered getting an abortion? Did she blame her for having a miscarriage? Wasn’t Taly disgusted to know that Lana had been tricked into having a romantic encounter with their own father? Where did Taly learn such foul language?! The seconds turn to minutes, and the minutes turn into a half hour, where the two sisters just look deeply into the others eyes, neither one knowing what to say. Eventually, Lana clears her throat, her voice being low and cracked from a dry throat. “I love you, sweet sister. I’m sorry… I should have come straight to you so that we could figure all of this out together, before I acted so reckless. But it’s always been my job to look after you! You are my baby sister, my best friend, and all I have left… I have no empathy, no magic, no friends, no lover, and no parents… Everything was either sacrificed or forced from me. You are all that has ever mattered to me, Taly. But now that I’m back… We have to finish this, for good. We have to hunt down Thronnel, and hatch a plan that will rid him of this realm for good. I think we need to contact Mother… She would know what to do…”