RP:Rainbows and Butterflies Down Memory Lane: Part 1

Part of the Do You Believe In Magic? Arc

Summary: The Bitey One seems to be going through some changes. Maybe it's menopause? She is, like, really old. Khitti, unfortunately, has to be subjected to these changes as well, and the memories that come flooding in from so very long ago. This probably doesn't bode well for either of them.

Raiez's Cave (Dead End)

Raiez was nowhere to be seen, at least not in the vampires’ part of the cavern. It was highly probable that she was off checking on her hoard, but it mattered little to at least one of the two redheads that remained captured. For one of those redheads, nothing mattered in the physical world. No, what mattered was that somewhere in some dreamland, her body was on fire, being tortured by demons and devils. What mattered was that new voice in her head, the one that was telling her to wake up. What mattered was that she was lost in her own mind, and somewhere at the back of it she knew it. Of course, that was all well and good (or bad?) for the bitey one, but for Khitti, should she be awake, it was certain to matter that the older vampire was missing an arm and had melted flesh on her body. What would most definitely matter to her was the shadow that was floating from the space where the other’s arm -should- be. What would matter to Khitti would be the one hundred and thirteen years of memories that were suddenly invading her head.

Khitti was certainly awake, but how could one sleep with all of that in her head? She sat on her side of the jar shaking, muttering to herself. There were apologies to Brand and Dominic. There were questions to the shadow creature that no longer inhabited her body. Where was she? Why was she gone? Why did she, despite still being a vampire, did she feel so weak? It was a feeling she'd not felt in more than a decade. She was vulnerable and her mind nearly broken. Her line of sight shifts towards the bitey one again, just once of many times. That shadow that emanated from the area where her arm once called home. She knew what it was, but she didn't want to believe it. It couldn't be. Amarrah couldn't really be gone...could she? After what feels like forever, she'd crawl across the floor towards the elder redhead, she didn't have the ambition to stand. Everything felt hopeless. The younger vampire watched her movements, kept a decent enough distance in case she came to from wherever her mind had taken her and decided to lash out. She was known as the bitey murdery one for a reason. Khitti didn't say anything just yet, but she looked like she might, if only she were able to find the words.

There were no words to be given from the murderous one. No, there was just writhing, uncontrollable writhing. The agony was written clearly across every inch of the woman’s remaining body. Inside the woman’s head there was just more torture, more brutality levied her way, but there was something more, then. The voice that had been telling her to wake up was telling her how to escape. It was telling her how to get away from those demons. It was trying to comfort her. And then the voice screamed. It was as though the pain had transferred to whatever was giving sound to the voice. Outside of the bitey one’s head, the shadow tendril tried to reach for Khitti, tried to latch to its former host, but it was soon gone from sight, drawn back into the older redhead. A scream tore from the woman’s body. From elsewhere in the cave, Raiez could be heard yelling, “Keep it down in there! You don’t get to scream in pain after what you cost me!”

The former dark ranger reached out towards the tendril, tears welling up in her eyes. "Amarrah..." The scream from the bitey woman made Khitti cringed and shy away from her, more uncontrolled memories flashing through her mind. There was a Pilar-like whimper, but she pushed through it. "Hey." She attempted a firm tone, despite the fact that her voice cracked. "You need to drink. It'll help." Would it help? She wasn't really sure, but there were no other options. Who knew how long it'd be 'til Raiez fed them, if it ever did happen. The Blue would likely just starve them because of their little escape attempt. She -had- saved her, it was the least she could do after such a terrible idea on Khitti's part. Regardless of whether or not there'd be opposition on the elder redhead's part, Khitti'd tear a decent sized opening into her wrist with her fangs, letting the blood flow. Crawling as close as she dared to the other female, she'd hold her wrist out in silent offering. Hopefully, it didn't come back to bite her in the backside.

Unbeknownst to either Raiez or Khitti, that scream did not originate from the bitey one, but instead the shadow creature within her. As Khitti sought to feed the older vampire, a surge of power erupted from the armless one, complete, unbridled shadow power that not only pushed Khitti away, but filled the jar the were in, effectively pinning the von Schrier woman against its wall. When it subsided, a shroud of shadow was engulfing the unconscious redhead, a pseudo cocoon to give birth to…whatever was to become of the bitey one. Unfortunately for Khitti, within the vampire elf’s head, she was reliving her memories, somehow removed from the demons that tormented her, even though she couldn’t have said how if she had wanted to. However, the reliving was not simply a reviewing of things from within her own mind. Instead, she was a bystander, watching with a shadowy figure ever looming at her side. At that moment, they were standing behind a little elf boy playing at being a mage, a smiling woman encouraging his antics. Oh, the joy that filled the two figures eyes when the first spark of fire spat from the boy’s fingertips! “Very good, my child!” the woman exclaimed with an excited clapping of her hands. “See?” she said to a man who had just entered the room they were in. “He does have the makings of a mage!” The little boy could hardly contain his pleasure from the praise. It was such a pity that the bitey one knew how this story ended.

There's a loud 'oof' as she's thrown against the wall and then...there were memories again. Was there still a hint of Amarrah rolling around in Khitti's head? It didn't feel like it, but perhaps the magical residue that still invisibly coated the redhead's form. But these were different. Were they...happy? She didn't think such a thing had even occurred in the elf's life. Khitti would appear to the bitey one as the shadowy figure, and she too watched, studying the pointy-eared people that were just so overjoyed at their child being able to use magic. It was something Khitti never experienced. Things would've been drastically different in Dhavislavv if she'd had magic from birth. But those were thoughts for another time, and she watched the scene more intently as it played out in front of her.

The scene with the happy family shifted, melted away. It was obvious years had passed in the timeline, as the boy now stood taller, not yet an adult, but neither was he a wee lad. He was dressed in fine robes, ones that hugged his broad shoulders and his oddly feminine, narrow waist. Strangest of all, for his age, he was remarkably tall, standing at over five feet. There were other elf boys with him, slightly older in age, both garbed in the mail of warriors. This did not look to be an inquisition of any sort, but instead a ceremony. A wizened old elf dressed similarly, but far more extravagantly, than the tall youth stood before the young redhead, a staff held in his hands. “You have shown your skill, young one,” the old man said, his voice surprisingly steady for his years. “You have earned your first staff, a symbol of your welcome into the mage’s circle of our village. Your brothers,” those wise eyes flitted to the two flanking the redhead, “would surely you had joined them as members of the guard,” the two flanking the boy both grinned and chuckled, one even slapping the young one on his back, “but your path is not one of brute force. Yours is the inquisitive path, the enlightened path. When you do join your brothers, you will be a great boon to them.” Everyone was smiles and joy. Everyone except the boy. His face was somber, a touch of determination in his eyes. “I won’t let you down, Arch Magus,” he told the wizened elf, earning a soft smile. “Go, spend time with your family. They are sure to want to celebrate. Your training will begin in full on the morrow.”

Khitti'd raise a shadowy brow at the boy's determination. That certainly hadn't gone away at all, just merely transformed into something else. Something a bit scarier, but it was still there nevertheless. She'd 'hmm' to herself, savoring in the light that came from the memory as opposed to the darkness that filled the rest of her mind from not only the elder redhead's memories, but her own as well. Shifting away from the one-armed elf, this shadowy self would begin a circuit around the room, slowly taking in every bit of it and filing it away in her head. Even if she'd nothing else to cling to, Khitti could do her best to remember this happy time, even if it wasn't one of her own.

Khitti would get just enough time to take in the sight as people left, the boy and his two brothers among them. “Lelliloth,” the boy could be heard saying to one of his brothers, “when I finish my training, you and Vallein won’t have to worry about getting hurt ever again. I promise you that.” The spectral vampire visibly winced when she heard her younger self say those words. They were words full of conviction. They were words that had rang true to her back then. But soon enough the scene faded out again to be replaced by another. They were in a grand foyer, the boy years older again, finally a man and standing at a staggering six feet and two inches. He dwarfed the man and woman that stood before him, his mother and father come to visit at the mage’s circle. Every face wore a smile, and the three embraced. “You have another visitor,” the redheaded man’s mother told him as she turned to look towards the entryway. “Well come on, Vellinae, don’t be shy.” The woman turned as another redheaded child entered the scene, a young girl no older than ten. “You haven’t seen her since she was still a babe, have you? She’s been smitten with the idea of having a powerful mage for a brother, you know.” Oh, how the little girl flushed at the words her mother spoke! But the tall redhead just laughed and stepped over to his sister, kneeling down so that he didn’t make her feel quite so short. “I remember the night I got my staff. Our brothers and I came home, and you were laying there so peacefully. And then you sneezed. I didn’t think snot could freeze so badly!” That certainly didn’t help the girl’s embarrassment, and she went to bury her face in her mother’s robes. The boy-turned-man laughed and rose, turning to his mother. “She’s to be trained, too?” His mother just grinned. His father, however, grumbled. “At this rate, we warrior-folk of the family will be outnumbered by you magic-users.” But it was obvious the words were spoken with no ill will. In fact, the boy’s father looked damned proud of his son, his wife, and his daughter.

There was a pang of sadness in Khitti's heart as she continues her viewing of the memories. The sight of a redhaired little girl only reminded her of her own sister and the fact that it had been sixteen years since Lydia was actually amongst the living. Apparently she was -still- amongst the living, according to Brand and Dominic, but it was in quite a different form now. Khitti paces a little now, peering at the four out of the corner of her eyes, studying the floor as well in between the memories and her own thoughts. What was her own last, good memory? It certainly wasn't that last day before the undead came. Was there one still rattling up in that broken mind of hers? It didn't matter now, it would seem. Likely a good portion of her earliest memories would've been shoved from her mind when the elder redhead's own memories intruded and stormed the castle in her head. Khitti pushed all of this from her head for now and sighed, returning her attention to the elves again.

The scene faded. It did not begin to reform, not right away. Instead, it came through as a muffled sound, one that gradually got louder, and clearer. “-vading! The drow are invading!” There were alarms going off, magically sounded to alert the Guard that their services were needed, that the mage’s circle was required for their spells. “Everybody up! The drow are here!” The redhead was groggy, hardly to bed it felt like. It was still dark; of course it was, if the drow were there. The cowards couldn’t stomach fighting in the daylight. The man was soon to his feet, however, robes and staff retrieved from his bedside. Was it him, or was it incredibly hot? The night had been so temperate before he had laid himself down for sleep. He shook the thought away. There was business to attend to. Those drow weren’t going to repel themselves. Such conviction did the man have…until he stepped outside. The village was ablaze. Screams, magically muted within the halls of the mage’s circle, ripped through the air. There were dead everywhere, both elf and drow, but mostly elf. They must have caught the village by surprise. The bitey one's younger self ran out into the mess, made his way towards the thick of things…made his way towards his family’s house. A house that was fully on fire. A house that stopped him in his tracks. There was no sound from within the house, and outside…outside…Oh gods. It couldn’t be. One brother lay on the ground, his head nearly removed from his shoulders. The other, though, was held upright. Against the wall. By numerous spears. Three feet off the ground. There was another spear and…By all that was right and decent, he was going to throw up. Why did they stick that spear up -there-? And there was the tip, he finally discerned, poking just out of his brother’s lips. The spectral vampire shook, cried. She fell to her knees. Why was she reliving this? The younger, male self ran forward, pushed open the door. The female self was dragged along with him.

Khitti could barely look. It wasn't often that the sight of death made her cringe nowadays, but this...this was too familiar. Drow. Undead. They might as well have been the same with the amount of violence they left in their wake. It was horrifying and she definitely knew how the bitey one felt. It was too overwhelming for Khitti, and she did her best to hold back her own emotions for now. As she too was pulled along in her link with the elder, she did something quite out of the ordinary. Despite the nature of their 'friendship', if that's what it could be called, Khitti'd attempt to take the lightning wielder's hand and comfort her. Apparently, Khitti's time with Pilar had worn off onto her a bit, whether or not for the better remained to be seen.

The redhead didn’t even register Khitti’s attempt at comfort. She was trying to become oblivious, because she knew what was next. It was a sight that haunted her dreams still, so many decades later. As those doors flew open, the first image that greeted those silver eyes was that of the elf’s father, his body crumpled against a wall, his pants removed, much like his head, and his head was all that protected the elf’s eyes from betraying what remained of his father’s dignity…if it could even be called protection, with that pose. And then there was his mother, hanged by the balcony at the top of the stairs. From the looks of it, she had committed suicide rather than face whatever the drow had in store for her. But the worst of it was his sister. She was bloodied in places from what the drow had done to her, were still doing to her. There, mistreating his sister, were a pair of drow. The one handling his sister noticed the redhead’s presence, and as he got up from his ‘fun’, the young mage’s sister’s body fell with a sickening thud to the floor. By the gods, she was already dead…”Al, al, vel'bol xun udos inbal ghil?” the drow said, a sick grin on his face. “Jalbyr xuil lauske d'euol'gui? Zhal'la udos inbal jivvin xuil dos, ichl?” Clearly, the elf had no clue what the drow was saying, but it didn’t matter. Rage bubbled up from a well deep within the man, a rage like he had never felt in his life. Fire licked at his fingertips, and as the rage built, so too did the flames, until the elf was nothing but a walking inferno. The drow paused, unsure what to make of the sudden situation before them. It was their last moment. Forward the fire flew, ushered away from the elf’s body to engulf both the drow and his sister’s body. Ashes were all that remained. With that fury still raging within him, the elf turned and stalked out of the house to be greeted by…well, -he- didn’t know how many there were, and so, due to the nature of memory, neither did his older, female self. All either of them knew was that there were soon many more piles of ash and lumps of charred flesh. But all the fire in the world couldn’t save the elf from a blow to the back of the head. Down he went. He was sure he was about to die, somewhere in the back of his mind. But it would be alright. He would be with his family again. Everything went black.

The former dark ranger couldn't hold back her tears now. It was only going to get worse from here, wasn't it? She could feel it. She felt it in her bones just as keenly as she could still feel the necromancers knives digging into her flesh even now. It haunted Khitti just as the elder redhead's own memories terrorized her. Khitti'd squeeze the elf's hand again, but knew that it would do little. Nothing could get rid of a memory like that. When everything went black, so too did Khitti's mind as she slipped back into her own chaotic thoughts and fainted.