[SFI]

Author's Rant: First of all, this is a fanfic set somewhere in the future of the conflict now happening (chapter 43, at the time of this writing) so that means soon it'll be a case of 'Kern's canon is over there *points at Washington*, mine is over here *points at Berlin*'. (ignore crappy latin-grammar, it's been a while )
If you still wanna read it, here a short summary: Sarv'swati was not too happy that Waes'soloth called off their alliance after 'Diva'ratrika' was killed at the Val’Beldrobbaen-fortress. As such, true to her nature, she lashed out against the Ill'haress.

• Chapter 2
• Chapter 3
• Chapter 4
• Chapter 5
• Chapter 6
• Chapter 7
• Chapter 8
• Chapter 9
• Chapter 10
• Chapter 11
• Chapter 12
• Chapter 13
• Chapter 14
• Chapter 15
• Chapter 16
• Chapter 17
• Chapter 18
• Chapter 19
• Chapter 20
• Chapter 21
• Chapter 22
• Chapter 23
• Chapter 24
• Chapter 25
• Chapter 26
• Chapter 27
• Chapter 28
• Chapter 29
• Chapter 30
• Chapter 31
• Chapter 32

Alternate Ending

• Alternate Chapter 18
• Alternate Chapter 19
• Alternate Chapter 20
• Alternate Chapter 21
• Alternate Chapter 22
• Alternate Chapter 23
• Alternate Chapter 24
• Alternate Chapter 25
• Alternate Chapter 26
• Alternate Chapter 27
• Alternate Chapter 28

“Sarv’swati!” Her voice had never been made for closed areas, the moment she raised it, half the building knew. Now it mattered little: she was the only living person in the building. Behind her lay the two she had brought with her as guards – slain – and the one she had come with here... was gone.

She had been betrayed. Her long loyalty to the Vel’Sharen had not been rewarded. Instead its’ end would cost her dearly now.

“Sarv’swati!” The second daughter of the former Val’Sharess had trapped her, leaving her in a raging inferno and had fled, rather than enjoy the end.

Around her the building went up in flames, much to her horrified disbelief. Had they drenched it in oil? Stone ought not to burn like this. Then again, she ought not to be trapped here like this either, but here she was, inches from burning alive.

How had it come to this?

Smoke filled her lungs, heat rising around her. Her mana-arts had been rendered useless, trapping her in this room. Her trapped! Sharess, it was preposterous, almost blasphemous.

Her hand reached for the iron band around her slender neck. It was locked close, only to be opened with a keystone of Sarv’swati – which she obviously did not posses. By some foul demon-arts it drained her mana to leave her with barely enough to stay awake.

Her mind was swimming, her lungs filling with mostly smoke and hardly air. The lack of mana made her movements sluggish and her limbs heavy.

She was getting closer to fainting already...

Had anyone been watching like a spider on the wall, they would have seen her fall, her clothes and long hair fanning out around her form. A short distance from her unmoving body was the door she could not open.

<><><><><><><><><><><>

A city-block away a group of newly fletched Highland Raiders was returning from the surface to the Sarghress-fortress. Ariel Val’Sarghress was leading them. She had been recalled by her mother, the Ill’haress, now that the war was mostly over. The Vel’Sharen following Sarv’swati had been all but routed, having only small pockets in the Underworld under their control and those were shrinking by the day. Zala’ess was a different matter, but she was well away from them in terms of city-blocks and the oldest sister Snadhya’rune too was far away: she was still in Felde.

In the distance they saw the smoke and flames of Sarv’swati’s treachery – though they did not yet know it to be such: they assumed a simple accident to be to blame.

True to her nature, Ariel insisted they go to see if they could help. Soon they realized it was a Sarghress-controlled territory, the fire having been unleashed in a food-storage-building.

“Clear the surrounding buildings!” Ariel called. “Is anyone inside?”

“I faintly sense someone.” Faen called. “Only very faintly, but someone is still alive in there!”

“I will come with you, Ariel.” Chirinide Val'Kyorl'solenurn stated. She and Shan’naal had stayed with the squad, though they had not been allowed to become a true part of it due to them being Kyorl instead Sarghress. There had been too much trouble for them to reach the Light Elves in Vanaheimr. Both the battles around Dariya’ko and the pushing Hermionne had cut them off from the hidden city. “I’ll keep the flames at bay.”

The Val’Sarghress heir only nodded, unlocking the doors with a gentle touch upon the stone at the center of the door. As they pushed it open a wave of heat hit them, turning their mouths dry within moments. Worse was the stench of burned flesh, filling their nostrils almost immediately.

Using her fire-affinity, Chiri pushed the fire apart for them to look inside. Forms were on the ground, two already burning brightly.

“It’s nearby.” Faen peeked in. “The nearest to the door, I believe.”

“Help me get her out!” Ariel called, rushing in to the fallen form. Her black robes and hair were already sizzling at the edges, the fire hungry for more. Even as Ariel and Faen stamped them out, Chiri ordered the flames apart while Sar’nel and Shan’naal rushed inside to help carry the older woman out. She was bigger than most females, belying a Val-descent, though how she could have ended up trapped in here, where a simple touch at the inside stone ought to have freed her was a mystery.

“Drider-guards.” The Kyorl-warden stated when she emerged again. “Two of them. Slain by blade.”

“Something disrupts my empathy around her.” Faen murmured. She, Ariel and Chiri were the only ones with the female, the others having gone to help extinguish the fire before it spread to other houses.

“It’s this.” Ariel pushed aside the hair of the other a bit, revealing what was locked around her neck. They had seen these bands often lately: mana-draining ones of Sarv’swati. “No wonder she got trapped in there. This is Sarv’swati’s work. Think she’ll make it without your help? We don’t have a keystone for this.”

“She should.” Faen cleared her face of the rest of her hair, recoiling as she saw it.

“Isn’t that?” Chirinide hesitantly reached out to lightly touch the now revealed cheek.

“It is.” Ariel bit her lip lightly as she regarded the one on the ground. “This is Waes’soloth, Ill’haress of the Val’Beldrobbaen.”

[partner555]

What does the title mean?

I thought the first chapter was ok.

[SFI]

What does the title mean?

It's suppossed to mean 'The spider strikes the dragon' as a shout-out to the animals of the Belds and Sharen...

[Finn MacCool]

according to my dictionary, it should be "aranea percutit draconem" (the standard word order would be "aranea draconem percutit", but the current one is acceptable too, i think).

[SFI]

according to my dictionary, it should be "aranea percutit draconem" (the standard word order would be "aranea draconem percutit", but the current one is acceptable too, i think).

And that happens when you have had your last use of Latin five years ago Thanks for the pointer

[SFI]

Chapter 2

“It is a dangerous game you have started, Ariel.” Chirinide murmured. “If they find out that you...”
“I know.” She interrupted the other female. “But this... this is not something we could just ignore. No Ill’haress – most assuredly not her – would just randomly end up with a Sarv’swati collar in a burning building. Something has happened.”
“The Sharen cannot help but make enemies by their mere presence.” Shala huffed while using an Earth-bending foci to bind the unconscious woman to the wall. They had gotten her into the fortress without being seen – quite a feat, considering the Sarghress’ massive numbers – and were now contemplating what to do.
Simply letting her go was out of the question, but keeping her here would risk Quain’tana finding out. And that would not be pretty for either them or her.
“No doubt Sarv’swati did not take kindly to her withdrawal from the war.” Sar’nel mused, looking the Val'Beldrobbaen Ill’haress over. Contrary to what they had first believed, she had not come out of the fire completely unscathed: one of her legs had been badly burned – and was now heavily bandaged – and her long hair had lost over a quarter of its’ impressive length to the flames.
“Most likely.” Sil’lice’s daughter rose to her feet, dropping the foci on the bed in the room. “She cannot help but backstab everyone. Even for things that happened years ago.”
“Ssshhh...” Faen suddenly spoke up, shushing them softly before adding in a whisper: “I think she is waking.”

Waes’soloth first noticed the sharp pain of her leg. It did take her not much longer to realize several other things: it was burned badly, she was bound and blindfolded with that damned collar still around her neck and someone had switched her clothes. Arguably the second was the one that worried her most at the moment, considering she sincerely doubted her own people would trap her like this.
“I know you’re awake.” A male’s voice spoke up softly. “So there is no need to pretend.”
“Why would...?” Her indignant question was cut off by her own coughing, the smoke of the fire she escaped not more than two cycles ago having settled deeply into her lungs.
Within moments someone gently helped her drink some water, supporting her shuddering frame as her body cleansed itself of the toxic fumes.
“Why would I bother pretending?” She finally finished her question after a while, her voice rough and throat aching.
“I do not know.” It was the same voice, despite that her senses told her several more were in the room with them. “I would know what happened to you.”
She snarled lightly at the rude undertone in his voice. He did not care that she was an Ill’haress and Val, it didn’t matter to him at all. “And who would I talk to?”
“Sar'nel Tions Sarghress.” Sarghress... She ought to have know, it had been their storage after all. Well, at least it was marginally better than the Sharen at the moment. “Now, what happened?”
She snorted in disdain. That she was above pretending to be unconscious did not mean that she would actually talk to her captors. Especially when said captors were commoners.
“Seems someone has a problem with non-Vals.” One of the others in the room snorted in disdain, lightly kicking her. “Thinks she’s so far above us...”
“Stop that.” A female interrupted the speaker. “Please. Some ways are hard to change. Leave us, and tell no one of her presence.”

[SFI]

They left the room, leaving Ariel with Waes’soloth. The older woman did not move, head turned to the far corner.
“I am Ariel Val’Sarghress, Heir to Quain’tana.” She stated, stepping up the bound female. “And I would talk to you, Waes’soloth Val’Beldrobbaen. And you would answer me.”
“Why would I?” She countered with a hiss, back straight with what remnants of pride she had left. Defeated, bound, rendered powerless... She clung to the last shred of her dignity, lest all that she was would be undone.
“Because the only alternative now is becoming Quain’tana’s prisoner.” Ariel reached out to remove the blindfold, countering the intense stare of the Ill’haress before her. “And she is no fan of yours: Dariyako is hard to forgive for many.”
“Dariyako was a necessity your precious ‘Queen’ drove me too!” The cool demeanour had shattered during the betrayal, making the century-old Queen of Shadows act more than a little out of character. “Was I just supposed to let you change centuries of life?”
“The old ways brought you here.” Ariel pointed out. “Perhaps it is time to rethink them?”
“The new ways brought us here even more.” Waes’soloth countered, silver eyes burning. “I certainly do not recall the tainted to be old...”
Neither looked away, a battle of wills occurring between the two of them.
“Or we can say the Sharen brought us here.” She wasn’t sure if she had been in the right in the end, but Ariel knew now that having a staring-contest with Waes’soloth was even worse than dealing with Quain’tana when she was in a foul mood.
“That we can agree on.” Both turned away at the same time, the Ill’haress’ face softening as she looked over the room. “So, if you are not handing me over to Quain’tana, what are you going to do with me? I sincerely hope you are not planning on just leaving me in this room to rot.”
“That depends on if you talk.” Ariel reached for the collar. “Ill’haresses don’t end up with collars. What happened?”
For a while neither spoke, until the elder shifted lightly, looking at her bandaged leg. “I shall tell you, Sarghress.” She could hardly fall deeper than she already had. “What is it exactly you wish to know?”
“This collar is a Mana-blocking one of Sarv’swati. How is it around your neck now?” She turned away, walking over to the bed to sit upon.
“She put it there, obviously.” The many talking was sorely testing her throat, causing her to cough violently once more. What she wouldn’t give for some empathy-healing now.
Instead of helping her drink again, Ariel took the foci from where Shala had dumped it and used it to free one of her hands. While handing the Beldrobbaen another glass of water, she couldn’t help but realize that binding like this was just not feasible with the collar. She felt like she had been walking in a golem instead of having moved a bit of wall.
“She summoned me to a private council. Wishing to see if we could perhaps not work together even despite Diva’ratrika’s death.” She stared at the cup of water in her hands, eyes narrowed in disdain solely for herself. “I was foolish. I thought she wouldn’t dare attack me and out of courtesy and because of our once-alliance, I answered her call. She betrayed me, tricked me and humiliated me like this.” With a furious scream she threw the stone cup against the wall, shattering it while splashing water everywhere. “And now I am a Sarghress-prisoner... As if my pride had not suffered enough...”
Ariel said nothing, merely watching the water run down her wall.

Meanwhile a runner appeared at the Beldrobbaen-fortress, bearing the sigil of the Vel’Sharen. He bore a scroll locked with several seals, to be delivered with the greatest haste to the one in charge.
Warmaster Odelia was the one taking the message, stating she would keep it safe for Waes’soloth’s return.
“My lady Zarv’swati says it has utmost haste and must be read as soon as possible.” He bowed several times while speaking, never once looking her in the eyes.
For a few moments she weighed the scroll in her hand, measuring her options. “Why did Zarv’swati not tell Waes’soloth whatever is written in here? They are together in council after all.”
“She returned about two cycles ago, severely injured.” He answered. “I do not know what happened.”
Only a few more moments of hesitation and then the Beldrobbaen-warmaster opened the seals to read what message the second daughter of Diva’ratrika could have send them.
Her one remaining eye widened in horror and disbelief as she re-read the missive several times, unable to accept what was written there.

[SFI]

“I am going to take a very big risk.” Ariel muttered, pacing in front of Diva and Faen. The rest of her squad was elsewhere, with Chirinide keeping the Ill’haress company. “I am going to help her.”
“Your mother will not be happy if she finds out.” Diva’s eyes narrowed. She had been told not a few minutes ago and was still trying to digest what her daughter had done. “You are throwing away a powerful handhold she would have over the old caste.”
“At the price of getting a powerful ally.” The Sarghress stopped pacing. They were in Kelnoz’ room, one of the few they could be certain of no one would overhear them. “She does not strike me as a woman that would just overlook having her life saved.”
“She isn’t.” The former Val’Sharess stated. “But you have to get her safely not only through Sarghress-territory, but also through the Beldrobbean-lines, which they have made near impenetrable. And with that collar, it will be hard to prove her identity to anyone. Her aura is heavily reduced and damaged to the eye and her characteristic mana-arts are unusable. Not to mention there are no Sarv’swati-keystones to be found easily. She’d be at risk for reprisal and even assasination.”
“I know all that.” The taller female dropped onto the bed. “But I can hardly keep her here indefinitely. The risk of Quain’tana finding out is too big…”
“I am with you, Ariel.” Faen whispered, rubbing one of her arms in discomfort. “I just hope this will go as you intend.”
“I will aid you as well, Val’Sarghress.” Diva lowered her head briefly. “It is the right thing to do.”
“Good, because someone needs to bring a message to the Beldrobbean-fortress.” Ariel smiled weakly. “You are the only one I can both trust and send without it immediately being noticed.”
“I’ll do it.” She lowered her head briefly once more, looking around for writing utensils, taking a scroll of parchment and ink when she spotted them. “What must I write?”
Ariel took a deep breath and started dictating.

Kyonne looked up in surprise when someone knocked so hard on the door it rattled in its’ hinges. “Who is there?” She demanded, rising to her feet. Khal’harror and Frisk were elsewhere, overlooking the building of the new podium.
“A messenger from Warmaster Odelia’sigismondo Shessembrae Val'Beldrobbaen for Khal’harror Val’Beldrobbean.” The voice stated sharply.
“He is not here.” She opened the door, coming face to face with one of the Driders of her drummer’s clan. “I can pass it on though once he returns.”
The nine eyes glowed in the shadow of the helmet as he shook his head. “Forgive me, it is of great urgency. He must see it as soon as possible.”
Her eyes narrowed a bit at that. “Give me a moment, I will lead you to him.”
Luckily it was not far to where the two other members of her band were, which combined with the drider meant that none bothered her.
“Khal!” She called out once she entered the building. “There’s someone for you here.”
The drider moved forward without a care in the world, ignoring the other Drow that ever so slightly moved back when he came close.
The Beldrobbean-male accepted the offered scroll without a word, walking away a bit as he broke the seal. His mien had darkened: his mother had not send word of any kind for years now. Why she would do so now he could not imagine.
He didn’t get past the first sentence before sinking to his knees. “Sharess…”
“Khal?” Kyonne appeared beside him. “What does it say?”
He wordlessly handed it to her, burying his face in his hands.
The Illhar’dro took it with hesitation, reading the few sentences out loud: “Khal’harror, I must inform you…” She took a shuddering breath as her eyes flitted over the next sentence. “Your mother, Waes’soloth Val’Beldrobbean, has been killed in an Sarghress-ambush on talks between herself and Sarv’swati. Her body could not be retrieved. We will declare war on them for this.”

[SFI]

Diva had tried, she really had. But the moment they had realized she was a messenger for the Sarghress, they had turned her down. Worse, they had attacked her. Only a very quick reaction kept her head crossbow-bolt free.
She fled after that, running until she was well out of range of anything the Beldrobbaen could throw at her. True, the two clans had never seen eye to eye, but since when did they shoot at one another’s messengers?
She got the answer to that when she returned to the Sarghress-fortress and met Ariel there just as she left the throne-room of her mother.
“What happened?” She took to walking just slightly behind her.
“A declaration of war. I acted too late.” The last sentence was answered in a whisper only meant for the dark-elf’s ears. “Word reached the Val’Beldrobbaen from Sarv’swati that we attacked talks between her and Waes’soloth and ‘killed’ her as she fought to give the Vel’Sharen a chance to escape. Then we dragged her body home and Quain is now having her for dinner or some Tiktikki-shit like that.”
“And now they declared war and realigned themselves with the Sharen?” Diva realized in horror.
“Totally. Their War-master has claimed leadership of the clan in lieu of the absence of any heirs of Waes’soloth’s direct lineage and is rallying them against us as we speak.” Ariel darkly muttered. “This complicates things by a lot.”
“It does.” The former Val’Sharess agreed, putting the scroll she failed to deliver on time deep in her clothes. “I apologize for not being fast enough.”
Ariel waved her apology away. “You’d have been able to go back in time to beat the Sharen-messenger to their fortress.”
She threw open the door to her rooms, startling those that were inside. “Seize her.” She pointed at Waes’soloth. Diva was the first to obey, quickly followed by Sar’nel when it became clear that manaless or not, the Ill’haress would not go quietly.
“What... is the meaning of this?” The black-haired woman demanded as they pulled her from the bed. The others were pretty much thinking the same, wincing in sympathy when the elder woman’s burned leg gave way under her weight.
“You are an enemy.” Ariel stated, taking her spear from where it was resting against the wall. “I forfeit my life if I shelter you any longer.”
“What?” It was Faen that spoke up. “Ariel, what happened?”
“The Val’Beldrobbaen declared war upon the Sarghress.” Ariel darkly stated, resting the blade of her weapon against the chest of the held woman. “They blame us for Waes’soloth’s dead and the subsequent loss of her body.”
There was dead-silence after that declaration. “What... what will you do with me?” Waes’soloth whispered, even now her back unbent under the pressure of the other’s stare.
“I ought to hand you over to my mother.” The pointed tip lowered lightly. “Unless you can make me a better offer for your life.”
An even longer silence followed, those not involved almost afraid to breathe as if they could disturb what was happening.
Pride fought with common sense in Waes’soloth’s mind. To submit herself to a commoner... or to die by another commoner’s hand.
“I submit myself to you.” She let her head fall forward, hiding behind a curtain of black hair. “I may have lost my arts, but I can still be useful to you.”
“So you hope.” Ariel answered, but lowered her weapon fully now. “Submit fully to me, and I shall do my very best to get you back to your clan. Or at the very least revenge on Sarv’swati.”
‘Submit fully’... She might as well have demanded she go sleep on some filthy street-corner. It made little difference to the Beldrobbaen who had always despised the Sarghress.
“As... you wish.” Never before had she needed so much willpower to force so few words out between her clenched lips. “As you wish.” She repeated with a clearer voice.
They let her go at that and she shifted to get her weight of her wounded leg. She started when a hand was offered to her.
“I apologize for what I have to do to you.” Ariel stated softly.

They accompanied him as he returned to his ancestral home, cloaked in black and dark-greys. The Drider escorted them through the streets leading up to the district still under Beldrobbaen-control.
“Odelia!” He did not bother with protocol or even waiting until the Drider-guards had opened the door for him, flinging them open himself as he called for his mother’s War-master.
“Here.” She appeared so quickly there was no doubt she had been alerted to his arrival before the smashing doors did. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”
She looked tense, Kyonne noted as she and Frisk followed the two Vals deeper into the fortress. No wonder, with her Ill’haress gone and only said Ill’haress’ son left of the main lineage of the Clan.
“What happened?” He demanded before the door had even properly closed behind him.
“I know precious little as well.” Odelia gestured to the chairs in front of her desk, remaining eye narrowing as she regarded the two companions of the son of Waes’soloth. “This is the message Sarv’swati send me.” She handed him the scroll. “We must act fast.”
He clutched the scroll in his hand, unwilling to read it just yet. “You believe what is written in here?”
“Little choice, I am afraid.” She leaned back, her eye closing briefly. “We found a burned down Sarghress-storage building near where they were convening. Your mother’s killed guards were within. Her clothes – most of them anyway – were there also. Only her body could not be found before those I send had to retreat because of Sarghress approaching.”
“What do you intend to do now?” He asked. “Your message said I must come post-haste, but I cannot do anything. I am a male, remember?”
“Yet your support as Waes’soloth’s son to whoever replaces her will strengthen that person’s legitimacy in the eyes of the traditional Houses and mayhap in those that are... less so, considering your own...”
“Progressive ways?” He finished her sentence. “Who did you have in mind? Yourself?”

[SFI]

Zarv’swati would die for this. With a collar around her neck that could not be taken off, very few styles of clothing were left open to her. Even slaves were allowed to at least get their collars off to properly dress. Something she could not do. Even the clothes they had put her in had been a wrapping-robe, well below the standard of clothing she was comfortable with. And now this. The Val’Sarghress had rightly apologized about what was to happen.
“Goddess...” Waes’soloth murmured, glad that they had given her privacy. She would not have been able to deal with this had they been watching her. Perhaps she still would not, but at least now no one would see her break. “Why...?”
Her black hair covered her like a shroud as she buried her face in her hands. “I will end her for this.”
She flinched when someone knocked on the door. “Excuse me... It’s me, Faen. Can I come in?” The shy voice barely penetrated the thick stone.
“Yes.” Waes’soloth got up slowly as the door opened and the daughter of Ash’waren came in, leaning on the nearby chair to keep her weight from her burned leg. “What is it?”
“Ariel came up with an excuse to hide your identity.” Faen closed the door behind her, putting the bag she was carrying on the bed. “You were badly burned on both your leg...” She pointed at the limb in question as she opened the bag. “As well as the arm on that side and your face. It’s also an excuse to make...” She hesitated, looking at the untouched outfit on the bed. “this outfit a bit less worse.”
She opened the bag further, revealing its’ contents to the other woman: bandages, a lot. As well as a simple mask made out of leather.
“And the collar?” The Ill’haress had no choice but to sink to the ground again, the pain in her leg growing too intense.
“You were a Sarghress-sympathiser, which made you end up on the wrong side of the Sharen. Or so you claim, but since she can’t be sure, you’ll be under close and personal watch until you have proven yourself. But not dungeons, because... well, potential sympathiser and all that.” Faen pulled several bandages from the bag. “May I...?”
“Do I have a choice?” She shrugged off the robe. “Did no one ask for my name?”
Faen helped her sit on the bed. “Waeder was given. Closer to Waes’soloth or even merely Waes would have made them wonder. And perhaps even realize.”
The elder female said nothing in answer, allowing the empath to bandage most of her body. Then, with much reluctance she put on the outfit. At least all the bandages let her pretend it was somewhat decent by Beldrobbaen-standards.
The Sullisin’rune briefly leaned out the door as she was doing so, reappearing with Diva in tow. Together they started to braid the long black hair in elaborate braids and sworls to hide its’ true length, a thing which would reveal Waes’soloth as Ill’haress – or at the very least high-born Val – immediately. Somehow, they managed to get it all hidden in an up-do that would seem like something for short hair. This they then covered with a head-wrap.
It was far from perfect, but it would have to do.
She did not recognize herself. Waes’soloth stared at the form in the mirror. That cannot possibly be her. Bile rose in her throat at the realization exactly how far she had fallen. She could not do this. She simply couldn’t...
“Can I have some moments alone with her?” The purple-haired dark-elf addressed the Sullisin’rune demurely. Faen, no doubt feeling the turmoil of the elder woman with her empathy, nodded and left the room. The lock closed with a soft click.
“I can imagine how you must feel now.” Diva spoke up gently.
“I doubt it.” Waes’soloth turned away from the mirror, somewhat grateful that she had an excuse to no longer look at herself.
“Take a seat, and we’ll see.” The servant sat down on the bed, patting the spot beside her. “I’m going to tell you a story and it’ll be well worth your time if you’d listen.”
Having nothing better to do except going mad, the Beldrobbaen seated herself, pulling the mask of her face for now.

[SFI]

“Prove it.” It could not be. Waes’soloth looked at the teenager in front of her. That could not be Diva’ratrika, Val’Sharess... Said teenager looked at her with faint amusement, no doubt realizing her line of thought.
“Your mother wore even less than this as her normal outfit and had – quite ironically for a Beldrobbaen – a Light-affinity and was downright terrible with golems. You have a brother in the Drider-guard, but you are not telling anyone that since you two only share your father, not your mother. That made your mother decide he would be your protector for life.” Diva quickly summed up. “As a bond between the Sharen and Beldrobbaen you had him sire a child with me before becoming a Drider: one of my sons, now long death on a battlefield with the Sullisin’rune. He is one of the few that have not fallen to the madness last I checked.”
“Goddess...” That had come out of bloody nowhere. She had to seek support with one of her arms against the wall as her head starting spinning with this knowledge. “How?”
“An ancient ritual. The same my aunt used against the Nether-gates. I used it to take over another body.” Diva gestured to herself, her eyes filling with sadness. “This does not exactly look like me, now does it?”
“No...” Waes’soloth looked her over more closely now, hesitantly reaching for the other’s face. “Though now that I know, I can definitely see you... well, in you... Since when...?”
“I took the body a year after the Nidra’chaal War, but only gained control a few moons after the end of your son’s fifth year at Orthorbbae, shortly before the revelation of Sil’lice among the Sarghress.” Diva told her, taking the dark hand in hers to stop its’ approach. The limb was trembling. “In between, I was a slave, one with a serious alcohol-problem. If I can be a slave and servant for years, Waes’soloth, so can you.”
“I am not so sure of that.” The Drowolath pulled her hand back, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“You must.” The Dark-elf took hold of her wrists, forcing them apart and bringing herself face to face with the older body. “Think of your revenge against Sarv’swati, Waes’soloth, think of your clan. They need you: Odelia will not be able to hold it together for long once their anger at your loss has calmed. You must hold out until you can return.”
Dark-brown hands clenched into fists. Those words had hit a mark. Revenge... Sarv’swati and all Vel’Sharen would burn for this.
And then a horrible realization hit her as her thoughts turned to her clan: her son must surely have heard of her ‘demise’ by now as well...

He looked into the room, silently memorizing every piece of furniture. It was a dark room, just like all other rooms in the cavern-ceiling fortress of the Val’Beldrobbaen. It too would be one of the many, many empty ones from now on.
“Mother...” Khal’harror moved forward, the door falling from his hands to being held by the female behind him. “Goddess, why...?”
Kyonne and Frisk briefly looked at one another, but knew that nothing they said would help.
He stepped forward, leaning on the black couch as memories flooded into his mind. Foremost was the last conversation he had had with her. It had been only screamed accusations from his side...
He collapsed again, clinging with both hands to the backrest in front of him. “I never apologized for that...” His voice quivered, the words shaking as they came of his lips. “I said all those things to her and I could never apologize.”
They knew of what he spoke. He had told them shortly after joining their band of the accusations he had thrown in his mother’s face when she demanded he stay with the clan rather than go give concerts with some Illhardro. He had exploded in her face then, or so he had said, calling her blind and foolish and many more things he now desired nothing more now than to never have said.
The last time he had seen her had been with a broken expression on her face, mere moments after she had snapped and backhanded him halfway across the room for his words.
He had fled the fortress then, ignoring her calls for him. Not even a week later he already had bitterly regretted what he had done, but he had not dared return to her to apologize. She herself had made no attempt to contact him either and so they had drifted apart, never to speak again until it was too late.
“Mother...” He whispered again, hoisting himself up. He looked to the desk on the far end of the room, black stone with a carved spider-web pattern. “They will burn for this. I will not rest until they are all dead.”
“Khal?” Kyonne stepped forward, resting her hand on his shoulder.
“I am sorry.” He looked at her, fire burning in his eyes. “But I cannot let the Sarghress get away with killing my mother. You lost your drummer.”
On one hand, she understood him. On the other, she feared where this might lead. “It is your choice.” She nodded briefly at him before turning to leave. “Good luck. I will send you your possessions as soon as I can.”
“So much for not caring what the clans think...” Frisk murmured as they left the district.
“Can you blame him for wanting to avenge his mother? Would you not do the same?” Kyonne sharply reprimanded her.

[Junglefowl26]

Interesting story premise, and very well written. Bravo!

[SFI]

That it would ever have come so far, she wouldn’t have believed a couple moons ago. Now she was a servant. It took her quite a while to get used to it. Ariel tried to spare her, but too much would risk discovery.
This is how she now came to be at a meeting of Quain’tana and her officers, heads of houses and children – at least those that were still with her. Thank goodness the other Ill’haress was too busy to pay close intention to the servant of her youngest daughter. Too often had they stood face-to-face for Waes’soloth to easily hide under her nose, but now she had to...
They were talking about the Beldrobbaen, speaking off force-movements and the change of power in the clan. That she would have to depend on Sarghress to know what was happening in her home...
“Waes’soloth’s son supports the rise of that Warmaster.” One of them reported, a man with bare upper body and either scars or tattoos all over his body. She couldn’t tell from this distance. “For now, it seems that they are united under her, but I cannot say for how long.”
Quain’tana snorted in disdain. “I’d be surprised if they make the end of the year. Waes’soloth was about the only reason that clan didn’t implode upon itself ages ago.”
Was that admiration in her voice? Waes’soloth blinked behind the privacy of her mask. This was getting stranger by the hour.
“Perhaps, but we best not count on it.” An orange-haired woman countered carefully. Koil’dorath, perhaps? Yes, red high-lights. “Greater miracles have happened.”
“After the loss of his sister, he will not take her death lightly.” Ariel spoke up in agreement. She stood proudly at her mother’s side, wearing the armour of a Highland Raider. “And if he blames us, he will not listen to reason.”
“It’ll cost him.” Someone else murmured. “We outnumber them a couple dozen to one.”
“That didn’t defeat them last time.” Quain’tana pointed out, poking her finger at the map on the table before them. The Beldrobbaen in the shadows could only guess at what, but it would probably be a safe bet to say that it was the small district of her clan. “We’ll be caught in a pincer between them and the Sharen once more, this time with troops more motivated than ever to defeat us. We must prepare for this quickly.”

Zarv’swati’s forces were forced to retreat to the districts held by Zala’ess, but even as they did this the Val’Beldrobbaen launched their assault upon the Sarghress. For now, their anger at the way they had lost their Ill’haress bonded the differing factions of the clan together.
Ariel had also spoken truly. She tried several times to get into contact with Khal’harror or Kyo’nne, but she was being rejected every time. They would not listen.
This in turn upset Waes’soloth, because her one hope of getting back to her clan grew slimmer by the day. It disappeared completely when Quain’tana found out what Ariel had been trying to do and ordered her to stop it.
“It’s gone too far to try and talk this out.” The elder Val’Sarghress said. “They have always been Sharen-bootlickers. They’d never listened to you even if you got into contact.”
Cut off from everything that gave her some kind of influence and power, the former Ill’haress fell ill – as far as Fae could do that. What use was living when there was nothing to do it for? Her clan believed her death and there was no way she could now convince them of the alternative. Not before the Sarghress war-machine had rolled over them.
With many fronts gone because of the defeat of their defenders, the Wolves were holding their own against the Dragons and Spiders.
Meanwhile, the greatest Spider of all, Ill’haress to the Val’Beldrobbaen for ages, one of the oldest of the Second Generation, lay dying. She had given up. Combined with the collar that weakened her severely, her body was failing.
Waes’soloth’s life was fading fast.

[SFI]

Diva stayed with her as Ariel and the others were drawn into the war. Now a full-fledged member of the clan’s military, there was no longer an excuse to keep Ariel away from the battlefield. Quain’tana no longer tried to find one either. And so Ariel was meant to prove herself.
Waes’soloth did not register any of this. Weakened, she now looked aged as if mana-deprivation had set in. With how little food they had gotten in her – and the collar – it was frighteningly likely. Her refusal to even fight it only made the situation worse. Her clan had declared her dead, her sole remaining child would most likely fall to the Sarghress war-machine before he could learn the truth about his mother’s fate... Everything she had fought so hard for and which had basically been her only reason to live had gone. Ariel explained the absence of her newest servant by telling everyone the wounds were worse than expected and she needed rest to heal now that no empath could help her.
“Where did that drive for revenge go?” Diva demanded into the silence at one point. The other woman did not respond. She wasn’t even sure if she was awake at the moment. “Lovely... First Snadya’rune and me and now Sarv’swati and her... What will be next? Zala’ess and Nega’fanea? Where did I go wrong?”
She rose from her seat to walk over to the window, looking outside. The part within the Sarghress walls was bustling with activity now that the war was being fought on several fronts once more. A line of golems was marching to the gates, several people walking beside them. A contingent of Highland Raiders seemed to be returning, riding up to the citadel that was Quain’tana’s home.
The last news she had had was that Zala’ess and Odelia were pushing from different sides in an attempt to form a barrier of hostile area between the fortress and most of the forces in the city. Quain’tana was having none of that, pushing back quite successfully... for now. It was only a matter of time before other Ill’haresses would join against her now that she apparently would scoop to killing them whether they were neutral or not.
With no one save the Sarghress themselves denying their responsibility for Waes’soloth’s demise, sooner or later the Val-clans would strike against them, if only to protect themselves from a similar fate.
Returning to Waes’soloth’s bedside, she sat down again, resting her hand on the dark-skinned one on the grey cover.
“You mustn’t give in.” The former Val’Sharess whispered faintly. “You mustn’t let my daughter get away with this, Waes’soloth. You simply cannot do that.” She wasn’t even certain if the other heard her.

Yeah, she never quite like the old order. Way too stuffy and all that... But no one got away with killing the family of her best friend! Kiel’ndia Val’Vlozress was not amused. She might have invaded the woman’s territory, but she had no intention of actually harming her.
And now she had been killed. How was she supposed to tell THAT to Naal? ‘yeah, your mom got eaten by the wolves...’ Damn, that’d send her into a rage no doubt.
“What are you going to do?” Fame had been with her when that particular piece of gossip entered the fortress.
“I’ll need ta think about it.” Kiel answered, completely different from what she’d have said had it been any other Ill’haress they were talking about.

Author's Rant: Feel Free to talk to Kiel'ndia if you like (or not, if you don't), but try to keep it within reasonable boundaries. No outright saying that Waes is alive or stuffs, plz

[Isaiah Cortez]

"Cupcakes! We demand tiktikki cupcakes!"