A Dream
The maddening restlessness of peace was enough to rob Nieve of what little sleep she required, yet on a moonless night, following a revel of sex and violence that had momentarily sated her, she slept. And she dreamed.
Nieve stood upon an endless, flat plain of mirrored glass, the dull grey of the horizon merging with it to become a slate void. All was silence, and stillness, before a twinkle in the distance caught Nieve's eye. To her right, barely more than a hundred paces away, stood a sword, the most marvelous sword Nieve had ever beheld. It's blade was the same mirrored sheen of the plain she stood upon, but instead of grey it blazed with a passionate red flame. An aching filled her heart and her hand, and she knew simply by looking that the sword had been made for her. She turned towards the blade, only for a cry to stop her in her tracks - behind her stood Fayruz, gloriously radiant upon the field, her inner light banishing the gloom and filling her horizon with a heavenly light.
"Nieve! We've found a way back to the White City! We can go home!"
Nieve's heart soared at the prospect of home, at the thought of seeing her siblings again. No longer would she be confined to the petty amusements of one small isle - soon, they would be back in the ever accommodating paradise of the White City! Yet...her gaze was drawn back to the sword. Surely, if they were attacked again they would need trueforged weapons like that...
She stepped towards the sword.
After the first dozen steps, Nieve heard Fayruz call out again.
"Nieve, what are you doing? There's no need for that brutish thing - Father will sort everything out!"
Nieve paused, but not for the reason the words were meant to convey. What would Baz'Auran think of her newfound freedom? True, he had allowed much, but the slaughter she reveled in...well, she would make him understand.
She continued towards the sword.
Passing the halfway mark, the glow behind Nieve seemed to fade, Fayruz's brilliance flickering ever so slightly.
"What are you doing, Nieve? Why won't you just come home!? What is wrong with you?"
The words stung, more than Nieve thought words could. Their return home was imminent, and Fayruz was questioning the need for a sword? Had she not seen the darkness that had caused the Fall? Was she so naive as to think them safe any more, even in Baz'Auran's presence? No, Nieve would not be so foolish as to go unprepared.
Another few steps, and the sword was in reach.
"Nieve, stop!"
Suddenly, Fayruz was on her arm, tugging her away from the sword.
"I knew you'd never listen to reason! Avyra wanted us to try, but we all know what a little fool she is! I'm not letting you drag your corruption back up to the White City, Nieve! You're going back, so you can face father's judgement!"
Nieve was shocked, not only by the words but by the disappearance of Fayruz's radiance. In a flash, Nieve saw that the purity had been a ruse, a base illusion intended to inspire trust - what stood before her now was a dim, pathetic thing, trying to cover her fear with the assumed authority of their father. And most pathetic of all, Fayrus was afraid of
her. How weak and traitorous must she be to turn against her own sister, even after the fall. And who was she to judge? If she lacked the strength to impose her will on the world, she was even more of a useless waste! Yet she just kept
talking.
"We're going to fix you, Nieve - father has it all arranged. It may take a few centuries, but he thinks you'll be able to control your wanton impulses with the proper restrictions. Of course, you'll never be allowed near anything corrupting ever again, but even you could never be so stupid as to defy-"
Fayruz stopped suddenly, her face frozen in surprise before she coughed up a dollop of black blood. The glass cracked as it landed, but Nieve gave it no mind as she stared dumbstruck at her arm, holding the sword which had run Fayruz through. Yet there was another blade, and as both withdrew Nieve saw herself standing before her, only it was not herself. Rather, it was her dark reflection, hair the color of freshly flowing blood streaming down her back, skin marked in arcane sigils of war and slaughter, black eyes gleaming with endless mirth. The two Nieve's circled each other slowly, as Fayruz lay gasping between them. Then, the dark twin spoke.
"You needn't look so surprised. She was a mewling fool, afraid of her own power. Death was the only thing she deserved."
Beneath the shock, beneath the sudden burst of horror, Nieve felt some part of herself agree with the dark reflection, and each lowered their swords as Fayruz breathed her last. Then, the dark reflection was before her, clasping her face between clawed hands, drowning Nieve in the black pools that were her eyes.
"It's not like you need them anyway, you've got me."
Another drop of blood, and the plain of glass shattered, revealing an onrushing horde of screaming berserkers. In that instant, the dark reflection disappeared, and Nieve was swept away in the tide of battle. At first, she struggled simply to regain her balance, but within moment was carving her way through the meaty opposition. A stream of crimson across her face set Nieve to laughing madly, enthralling her so totally that she gave it no mind when the reflection in the eyes of her victims was of black eyes.