Coming Home
Isolated with my fragmented thoughts, deciding fates and crafting plots, I think I know one thing I never knew I sought: I wanted a home.
Not one built among the rot—one with people that have freedom and thoughts. Despite those words, I poisoned it all. It was a petty game I played. Even now I feel it: their prayers and voices of choices I made coming to me, thoughts of the uncertainty of what I will do and who I am.
So I will leave this place and seek my people. Let me see what they think of a dark god given form versus one whispered and prayed to only when lost.
Perhaps I can be better and something that is sought versus the demand to choose that I brought.
—Final thoughts from Abaddon, returning to his city
The throne of darkness he sat upon felt stifling. The walls closed in, not expanding with his darkness. Even his endlessly patient disciple and snoring beast were wearing him down with the isolation.
His shadows found some depth and spread among the critters, but that was not his desire. He wanted a home. Fragmented memories from his dreams left him wanting to be in the kingdom. Before, he was fine with staying away. The war with the dwarfs left him wanting...
"Ezra." His voice low, flowing with the shadows.
The goblin broke free from his meditation, smiling. "You have need of me, lord?"
He still felt its soul as his flesh. He'd long since pulled back from all others, but Ezra always felt more him, and that was... wrong. It was needed to live, he believed, and it saved both of them. But he wanted his disciple free, not bound.
"I release you," he said calmly, as if the event was meaningless and nothing was changing. Yet the shift from joy to concern to horror at his words played clearly on Ezra's face.
"My lord... What have I done to displease you?" Bowing, afraid of facing him now. Even looking upon him beneath him.
"You've done nothing unworthy, but I wish you to seek your own path. If you still choose me after that, so be it."
"I shall not take anything I have gifted you, but my essence will not be bound to yours."
He looked over at the beast. He refused to name it despite it being his first guardian and being loyal. Even it seemed distant to him, and him unworthy of its loyalty, which he'd forced upon it.
"Even you, beast I name not, I set free. Seek your own path."
It awoke, sensing a change but stared more confused than understanding till he withdrew his essence, his soul, from their flesh.
Ezra wept and the beast showed fear and cowered despite its massive size, which mildly amused him—seeing such a great beast cowering in fear of the unknown change.
There was not a distance between them like all his followers—a faint connection but not an intimate closeness that made him question who he was and who they were, if not myself.
The rat lord's fragmented mind showed him that's not what he wanted for them or himself—not a sea of him doing what he wanted. He desired choice, and true choice meant being able to defy even him.
Nora. The elf said that name. True, they unwittingly challenged him, but he could not judge them for that. Something led them here, and here was not where he wanted to be, so he was glad he let them go.
"Ezra, find your own truth. I will seek the human city and do the same. Find me when you know your truth." He looked at the beast, still lost and unsure. "Same with you, beast. You ruled as a king before you... are not beneath me."
While technically not true, he did not like the idea they bowed out of forced submission. It reminded him too much of the fragmented memories of the light goddess with him. Her joy was him bending the knee, not loyalty.
Ezra did not speak, nor did the beast stop cowering. Both lost to his actions as he left. He was trying to find himself, and this felt like the start.
Abaddon.
And the voice was back in his head, repeating his name. He felt they wanted to comfort him, which made him want to laugh. He was a god, not a child to be held.
He left the darkness—a mark of his realm—but it did not spread nor fade. He noticed the rot seemed to lessen? Even shrink back from his touch, where before it seemed to long to grasp him.
No matter. He had other things to address.
The distance was a lonely walk and showed him how isolated he was.
The kingdom loomed in the distance—a darkness that felt like home. But was it? It was something he took by force and imposed his will upon. Yet now he would walk among them and claim kinship?
He sensed Luma long before he saw him. He'd told none his intent, but it seemed it still drew them. He saw him restless near the entrance. Other shadow kids danced, playing near him with human children mixed within them. A few adults relaxing, chatting also nearby. So carefree.
Till they saw him. It was amusing to see half flee, unable to look upon him, and rushed by his minions as if welcoming their father home.
They were all his children, even if forced. He'd made them kin with his touch. He would make things better.
Luma and the shadow kids told him about their adventures and were happy to be alive, wondering why he'd never come before now and happy he was there. It felt like a missing piece for both him and them was now complete. They both knew the other existed but never showed proof till now.
He was surprised to see Vesperia near. It seemed the adults did not just flee but were getting someone who oversaw things to be here.
She was smiling. He wasn't sure how to feel. Here he was, still a god among mortals, even if he did change their flesh. Her bowing, followed by others, was not something he wished, but what else could they do but show him reverence as expected?
"Be well. I seek not your devotion, merely to exist within the kingdom rather than without it."
Vesperia looked up, surprised and confused, but nodded slowly before speaking.
"I understand, my lord. It seems you wish to see how we live when overseen?"
No... But he could not fault that logic. He was torn how to respond. Luma speaking for him did shock him a bit, as he'd never told anyone why he was there.
"Father seeks not to rule with fear. He's given us all a choice. He wishes to stand free among those that are also free." He paused, thinking for a moment. "Unless challenged, he will not be mocked for his mercy."
Father? Well, he did literally say he saw them as his children, but to hear it allowed was more awkward. And how did it know his intent?
We know, Abaddon. We know you.
Even the voice seemed to gain strength and speak easier within the walls. And its emotions beyond its words were clear to him—they could feel his will and desire, sharing part of his gift? And those born of shadows made by him seemed to feel his intent clearest, even when it was confused to him.
Luma he had the most pride for. He'd fought his existence of being a child, which he'd made, and tried to be more even while being bound by his limited mindset. He'd adapted. It seemed they all did.
"He speaks truth. I merely seek a place to rest, not lost among the rot but among my people."
Vesperia grew confident hearing that and laughed a bit. "We converted the church already to a dark temple for you. It can be your throne if you wish."
She watched the few humans among them, unsure how to feel, giving an uneasy smile, nodding slowly. "And it would also give normal people a place to worship or pay tribute."
Hmm, tribute? No.
"Merely prayer, no tribute. Use what you have to better my kingdom, not me."
Vesperia was confused and unsure how to feel, and once more Luma spoke for him. "Father does not wish to follow the Light's ways of demand and submission. He takes away his desire for choice."
Things settled down from there, at least temporarily, till word spread. He rested upon the church. Now the church became a place that could not handle the sheer amount wishing to pay respect, surprising him.
The fear and uncertainty he felt the first day was replaced by daily worship and people wishing to speak to Vesperia or Luma to pass messages to him. Though it was not needed—he could hear it all clearly even hidden deeper within.
It was a nice change, even though technically he still was distant. He needed time to accept this change, and it seemed so did they. It was only a small subset, but he felt his touch upon them—a chain, not a freedom. So he resolved to truly offer choices and announced to all willing to trust, with his voice among the darkness in the walls themselves.
"All among you, I set free. Worship and pray by desire, not need. I cannot change what led to this but can offer freedom to be."
"Yet trust must be given for trust to be received. Come to the church, ask in prayer, and I will restore you to who you were—no influence from me."
"You may stay but will need to cure the touch from the darkness. In time it will affect you negatively, not from malice. It's merely what it will be."
"To those who choose otherwise, nothing changes. I ask you not judge those who seek freedom to choose. It is my first decree to separate me from the being like the Light who demands who you be."
He wasn't sure where this would lead, but it was the start of a choice, and that's what he wanted. He even felt the voice's soul trying to embrace him—a feeling he did not know he lacked till it comforted him.
Meekie & Leinaa
We thought getting home would be the hard part. We were wrong. I assumed my notes would be proof and was wrong. They thought instructor betrayed us.
They are wrong.
Yet despite the tears we shed and words we spoke, nothing changed as they argued over whose fault it was to trust a low-born with so much power, trying to lead us to our deaths.
It wasn't the first time we heard these words, and it seemed all that changed were the faces trying to shift blame. Thankfully, they never distrusted us.
We received nothing but sympathy—being forced into impossible choices of following a drow and finding our way home. They wanted to give us a medal for bravery, for overcoming so much. A grand speech: honor light elves, resilient in the face of adversity. They just needed time to plan it, even as we refused.
They finally settled on letting us speak to the light priestess since she was the one who had us assigned to start this thing. And once more we repeated the same thing.
"I understand how you feel," Serenya said gently, brushing Meekie's short hair and giving a pitying look at Leinaa, who was tired of speaking. Fear. Words were just words and meant nothing anymore.
"Everything you endured was true, not a lie."
Both girls had hope in their eyes. Someone believed? Tears gently fell. There was hope this wasn't all in vain, even as Serenya's gentle smile remained. Her words shattered that hope that barely remained.
"It was the rot water you drank... the poison's things..."
What? Meekie thought. She was fine. The ash kept them safe.
"You cannot drink rot water and not go mad. The fact you remain sane is proof you're both blessed and Light's mercy was with you."
"No," Meekie said low, the only defiance she had. She knew what she saw, what she wrote.
"Yes, dear. I'm afraid your trust was misplaced, as was mine." Serenya said carefully, tears seeming to form. "I believed he was worthy of trust, of being a pet we could train to guide our children safe."
She watched the girls carefully as both stared in disbelief, not knowing how to feel.
"You overcame so much. Of course what you've seen was real—you were drugged."
They did not know what to do. Even the light priestess herself denied who they were and what they saw. What was left? They were not strong enough to hunt for instructor, and even if they could, he'd headed deeper into the rot and they'd failed long before then.
"Okay," Meekie said in all but a whisper. What else could she say or do? It was over.
Serenya
Serenya watched the girls and carefully guided them to a room. She was appalled no one bathed them and gave them clean clothes, but she was told the girls refused until someone would listen.
Yet now? They seemed more compliant. It seemed they bought her words, thankfully. Or they knew none above her existed besides the queen, and she would refuse to listen.
So it meant the lie was safe. The rot alive? Madness. But then again, an unknown darkness walks among us, so maybe it was its doing.
She left deeper to pen a letter to the goddess lest time be wasted. She feared too much time had passed already with the kids needing to return with a story, but the light goddess could be merciful when others obeyed, and she hoped it would be seen that way.
Light of mercy, I hope this finds you well. I've done as you asked and found the unknown threat.
I fear it was not handled as well as your trust in me, but I managed to discredit those that could ask questions and mislead what is real.
They spoke of a shadow god that showed mercy for unknown reasons and of the rot coming alive? I fear those things are beyond me, but they said they noted the location, but not with complete accuracy.
A fact: It lies in the mountains within two days' travel on foot—closest to what we know as fact.
I fear it's not better info of what you asked of me and accept the judgment that comes with it, lest you offer me mercy, which I will repent and be more worthy if given.
She did not leave her name nor address the light goddess directly, so at least if this fell into wrong hands, there was still some deniability. I wish I had my old pet. I need comfort right now, and she was such a good drow. A pity she was drained to death, but we all must make sacrifices for the Light.
I'll get a new one—one not so easily drained and needed for the goddess's mercy. One more personal for me. There are plenty of drow. I'm sure I can find one.
Left with those thoughts, events shift once more as the lives of mortals and gods play out in the sea of time.14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwXDlAJlIHf
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