Offscreen Conversations
Aug 19, 2012 0:30:23 GMT -5
Post by Northen Light36 on Aug 19, 2012 0:30:23 GMT -5
Talen'sul's thieves guild lay in ruins. Hundreds of years of history had been torn apart in a single day and the guild would never be the same again. Though Talen'sul was not his home guild and Mat didn't hold it in the same deep affection as Ilyamen, the sight still stabbed at his heart and twisted his gut. He knew it must do the same to those who'd accompanied him here from Maelstrom.
Though it was not nearly as terrible as what lay scattered among the broken treasures and furniture. The main room hadn't been so bad. There was blood and bodies, but relatively few there. Those who'd survived for long enough to regain their senses had retreated into one of the private rooms, binding wounds and trying to deal with the guilt and horror of what they'd done. They wouldn't met anyone's eyes as they were cared for, wouldn't speak a word, and Mat suspected that most, if not all, of them were lost to the guild. How could they ever feel comfortable in these chambers again?
How can I? The question was like the scream of his broken heart as he found the courage to push open the door to the nursery... then promptly fled to the privy to empty his stomach. Without fires burning in the fireplace, the guild had been cold enough to help slow down the process of decay. He almost wished it hadn't. The brief glimpse of the nursery would forever be burned into his memory. Some children still lay in their cribs, the pillows over their head telling clearly how they had died. Others... Their remains told of more violent deaths.
The cold had preserved them and, when Mat finally steeled himself to return to that chamber of horror, it sickened him to realise just how many of those tiny bodies he could put names and ages to. Four year old Kimi, one year old Toi, tiny baby Kai was only ten months old... Three year old Emile still clung to a blood splattered teddy bear while a broken doll lay beside the remains of two year old Mitch.
Names and ages ran though his head as he helped wrap bodies in sheets and allowed the specialist Earths in the group to encase the children in smoke-coloured crystal for transport to the guild's burial ground once night fell. Their chanting and the soft weeping were the only sounds in the guild, an eerie addition to the tomb like feeling of the room.
At last the sickening task was complete, the bodies and the wounded removed to either healers or the graves, and those remaining sank to the blood stained floor. None had the energy or the strength of will to make any effort to tidy the guild or make it more comfortable.
Time enough for that in the morning, Mat thought dully from where he lay on the tattered remains of a tapestry and listened to his guild-mates sobbing in the dark, purging themselves of the grief and horror of the day.
Sleep brought some tiny comfort to the group, but not enough. They set about repairing the guild to the point of being livible again with grim determination, saying not a word more then required. As the days passed, others came or returned to Talen'sul and pitched in until slowly the guild began to take on an echo of it's former beauty and spirit began to return to the guild.
The repairs gave them a goal.
Acqua's task of providing aid to those harassed by demons gave a tiny measure of revenge.
And as the thieves threw themselves into both tasks, they began to find acceptance for what had happened. Though, as Mat had predicted, many of the wounded who'd been found in the guild did not return.
Two of those took their lives in the following days and their names were added the tear-shaped plaque of smoky crystal that would forever stand in memory of what had been lost. The guild would go on, but their future had been changed in the most terrible of ways.
They would never forget.
Though it was not nearly as terrible as what lay scattered among the broken treasures and furniture. The main room hadn't been so bad. There was blood and bodies, but relatively few there. Those who'd survived for long enough to regain their senses had retreated into one of the private rooms, binding wounds and trying to deal with the guilt and horror of what they'd done. They wouldn't met anyone's eyes as they were cared for, wouldn't speak a word, and Mat suspected that most, if not all, of them were lost to the guild. How could they ever feel comfortable in these chambers again?
How can I? The question was like the scream of his broken heart as he found the courage to push open the door to the nursery... then promptly fled to the privy to empty his stomach. Without fires burning in the fireplace, the guild had been cold enough to help slow down the process of decay. He almost wished it hadn't. The brief glimpse of the nursery would forever be burned into his memory. Some children still lay in their cribs, the pillows over their head telling clearly how they had died. Others... Their remains told of more violent deaths.
The cold had preserved them and, when Mat finally steeled himself to return to that chamber of horror, it sickened him to realise just how many of those tiny bodies he could put names and ages to. Four year old Kimi, one year old Toi, tiny baby Kai was only ten months old... Three year old Emile still clung to a blood splattered teddy bear while a broken doll lay beside the remains of two year old Mitch.
Names and ages ran though his head as he helped wrap bodies in sheets and allowed the specialist Earths in the group to encase the children in smoke-coloured crystal for transport to the guild's burial ground once night fell. Their chanting and the soft weeping were the only sounds in the guild, an eerie addition to the tomb like feeling of the room.
At last the sickening task was complete, the bodies and the wounded removed to either healers or the graves, and those remaining sank to the blood stained floor. None had the energy or the strength of will to make any effort to tidy the guild or make it more comfortable.
Time enough for that in the morning, Mat thought dully from where he lay on the tattered remains of a tapestry and listened to his guild-mates sobbing in the dark, purging themselves of the grief and horror of the day.
Sleep brought some tiny comfort to the group, but not enough. They set about repairing the guild to the point of being livible again with grim determination, saying not a word more then required. As the days passed, others came or returned to Talen'sul and pitched in until slowly the guild began to take on an echo of it's former beauty and spirit began to return to the guild.
The repairs gave them a goal.
Acqua's task of providing aid to those harassed by demons gave a tiny measure of revenge.
And as the thieves threw themselves into both tasks, they began to find acceptance for what had happened. Though, as Mat had predicted, many of the wounded who'd been found in the guild did not return.
Two of those took their lives in the following days and their names were added the tear-shaped plaque of smoky crystal that would forever stand in memory of what had been lost. The guild would go on, but their future had been changed in the most terrible of ways.
They would never forget.