Finale: Sencliff-hanger

[Sylver]

Location: ---------
I do not know what my name is. I question my identity. I disavowed the ways. I am free. I favour it. I cherish it. But… at what cost… I do not know.

There they were. The most marvelous snow-bound paradise. The most bizarre Fellowship.

One con-artist Halfling. One honourable Dwarf. One observant Human. One… Hunter.

The Dwarf states in a very well-manner tone, "So that be it then?". There is complete silence and serenity. Marshmallow snow of purity contradicts the grimness of the moment as it falls layer by layer. Everyone looks at each other as if waiting for something to happen. The Hunters sockets speak for itself though.


It was ready to move forward.


“That should be it. The Mark is done. I have nothing else to say for the Elders know how to make it more profound. I am but a Hunter after all”, the Hunter speaks then another composure of the previous atmosphere settles in. The only voice that echoes about is the rustle of cold bitter-sweet as it embraces the crowd that shuffles in the snow.


It was ready to move forward.


A final convey of the Hunters eyes intertwine with everyone… the hue did not glitter, did not flair, did not sparkle. Did not feel. The eyes convey the shadow of the greatest truth known to very few. An aura of a concept begone and belittle worth that of academia tolerant to that of a maniac.
“Hunt well.”, the Hunter exclaims facing them all, lateral arms extend outwards, before an instant shift. A flourish of the Hunters white cloak breaks the chain of contact and perception of the crowd to delay their reaction.


It was ready to move forward.


“Wait -”, the Human attempting to grasp the situation shifts a turn as the Hunter leaps off the ledge gracefully. Like a black bird, it wolves straight down with no hesitation. Arms extend out making use of the large white cloak to control the descent. Then, the voyage changes to a shift of the Hunters arms in an air-like plank to accelerate rapidly. The velocity is immeasurable as gravity pulls the Hunter. Plunging down, the air drafts sharply, almost like a guillotine executing its victim repeatedly. Those blank eyes seek the goal, the purpose, the end of the Hunt as the Creed states it.

“Truth”, she murmurs softly in her own tongue as the jade eyes flair then a crash unto her new residence of respite.

She was done. She has finished her Hunt.

“No, you are not. The Trial is over, my new -----------------. You have just begun.”

[Sylver]

Act II. (6/4) Sencliff-hanger. Envision.
Location: ---------
It is ready to move forward. I am ready to move forward.

“Hunter”, a throat rings from a-far, barely audible to her as she smothers cozily with the white blanket.


She remains in place. The constant fall of snow makes it difficult to discern her surroundings, much less move at all in combination with her debilitation.


“Illmanencya Leben eelam Pye”, a pause from the voice, “Article Five over Four.”


She remains in place. Her gear is in complete tatters. The red coils and whips itself about all over her body. Embrace of cold blends itself with the dying warmth seeping out of her gnashing wounds. A stroke of Truth slithers about…


“Oelilca”, the voice rings as it nears and a repeat, “Finale.”


She remains in place. Though with a raise of her head, the jade eyes of the black bird challenge the Life calling to her.


“No, you are not. The Trial is over, my new Darling. You have just begun”, the voice confidently brows a short distance away from her.


She remains in place. Her head remains in definition with whatever remnants of living strength lies within as she repeats inquisitively, “Dar – “


“WELL. WHAT OF IT?”, an absurd, unfamiliar voice looms through her ears.
Her head tilts as she looks to the figure, an attempt of her mouth –
“A HUNTER MUST HUNT. A HUNTER MUST HUNT. A HUNTER MUST HUNT.”

A Wolf appears in front of her. A bow appears to her side. A quiver of arrows appears to her other side. The wolf turns into a black bird chirping as it flutters away. She looks down once more and the envision spills red. A bloodied dagger rims about her bleeding right hand.

“A HUNTER MUST HUNT.”, the black birds beak chirps as it soars above the splatter of red. A second, though clandestine dagger emerges out of her left hand and proceeds to bleed violently... the tip of the dagger pierces through the head of the black bird.

“….These ...are... ...the... ...Sacrifices”, she attempts to string but –


The footsteps crunch loudly in the snow, then a tap onto her shoulder, “Well, are you my Darl – A HUNTER MUST HUNT?”

“I am”, she states blatantly.

“Splendid!”, the tap repeats, evidently a club contacts her, “Though it is much easier for – A HUNTER MUST HUNT.” She groans and plants her face back in the sea of rouge.
“Nevermind… then. Saves me the trouble, Darling”, says the voice as her body now hovers above the cold snow. The heat radiates off the anonymous figure as she hangs off their shoulder.


“Hang in there, Darling.”

A blur of Time renders unto once more multiple pictures...

“Sister! Sister! Sister! Welcome Home!”, an overjoyed array of voices springs then fades into the next...
“The Water. It is like the Trees are they not?”, a masculine voice prowls sternly before a shift...
“I love you.”, softly in statement before the boom of a commune of multiple voices...
“From here forth, you are a Hunter. One of Our Own.”, the collective group pauses dramatically into the next...
“These are the Sacrifices. Perform as such. Your Name identifies you as...”



“….So the Cave knows all.”, the figure states with a heavy breath as it carries her through the Truth.

[Sylver]

Act IV. (8/4) Sencliff-hanger. Envision. _____. Cave.
Location: The Cave.
Ridiculous. Fantasies. Desires.

“…But now I do not know what you are”, I tease with a continuous tap of the club.

“Ain’t that a kick in the head, Darling?”, he gobbles his bloody tongues, “Ya best be do me a favour before ya finish me off though.”

I draw my eyes elsewhere as I continue to ring the calm tap of the club. One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three. I repeat this mentally to myself.

“Finish off the report before ya go. Oh, and better yet at least –", he stammers as he stares over me from top to bottom as if feigning a genuine cause for concern.

I did not fall for it.

I stop tapping the club and toss it over to him whilst remaining to look away. Right from wrong. Wrong from right. Truth from the lies. Lies from the truth. This man is the embodiment… the accompanying ingredient to death. Though lesser to death, I urge another thought to continue to hear him. I swallow the joy and pride in my current dominant stance. His conquest over me is no longer… their games should be no longer… these lies…

“They linger. Identity lingers”, he flaunts with another forceful jerk of his body.

“Truth hurts, ain’t it?”, he brushes brashly. “At least look me in the eyes, Darling”, he stiffens his body with the habitual twist of his masked noggin as he continues to break through my defenses and garner my gaze.

“Look me in the eyes”, he repeats finally with a conceding quantity of breath. I simply defy his order with soft giggles as I look down to the wet floor in a somber march towards him.

“Just like the Sea. Falling and rising. Just like the leaves. Dancing in every direction and different in every way during Seasons breeze”, he exclaims to a violent shake of his head in one direction as the mask comes off then looks to me as I come closer and closer.

I did not fall for it, again.

“They came for her, Darling. Know that ain’t no lie, no it ain’t. If you take this message lightly--“, he chokes with a spit of blood to the side.

I raise my chin after certain focus on his mask. I feel nothing. I know nothing. All I can do is move forward. They do not bluff though. Their message is true.

Or so I am taught.

“I can mediate for you… for her”, conviction rings with another brash attempt to stand up. “Pl…Please at least look me in the eyes and listen!”, he shouts as it echoes about in the cave.

Now I am directly in front of him. In front of his pleading sorry state, “Fine. I have a message for them that should not be taken lightly”, I kneel down and put my palm on his cheek. Assessing him like wounded prey, I look to the so-called fear this individual now holds. Our eyes meet contact. My weak eyes unto his own weak eyes.

“A..A..Anything! I will do it, Aethen.”

I tease his right cheek with my right bloodied thumbs as I look at him. I want to make it painfully obvious for him. “I find it quite comedic how in the most final moments one becomes… cooperative. How the most pivotal truths and lies come clean… when you stand near death… when you call me by name”, I choose to muse in a colourful tone.


“Let us negotiate. On minor conditions in addition to the message.”


He forces a smile through the red thoughtfully, “H..Hah… ya know truth hurts. But… what be the conditions? …The message?”

“You tell me how I feel… why it hurts… what it did… who I did it too…”, I lift my right palm off his cheek to his neck and sequentially bring my left palm to his mouth muffling his agony. A click in time after I remove both of my hands off him.

“Truth is…”, I look to him, then for the final time, shut his pupils with my right hand.

I slowly reach for his mask off the floor and don it.

“You are the message for them.”

With
outstanding
woe
I
proceed
to
go
ahead
and

I step out of the cave into the snow. I blink twice and see a flock of black birds.

A peculiar one missing an eye and bleeding by the neck swoops over to my side. The bird chirps in a familiar tone to someone I know…

“Satisfied?”

“I am.”

In brief, it sings a tone and calls the entire flock over. Surrounding me. I see multiple images of past, present, future. Truths and lies… once more with the caveat that they are all crystal-clear.

“You see it?”

“I do. I am aware.”

“I do. I am aware”, the flock of birds copy me.

“These are the Sacrifices.”

“Ya think so, lEgS?”

A spin of another image replays as I look to the masked figure.
“I know so. But only to the extent of what I can perceive, dear.”