" I know you. "

[Swgrclan 2682]

I know you.

 

They stood before eachother, staring in silence. After two hundred years, the madman Vor'kalan, the first of the Darkstalkers, and the Druid of yore, Song Druid Arik, met once more to talk of feuds; feuds of a woman one of them had felled.

"You killed her."
"I will have recompense."
"I will end this feud."

Faeyin was a thing of yore, found and lost and found again. The two of them fought over her as if their lives' purpose, until one died and the other passed on. But now they met here, together, before eachother; just like before. Just like in yore.

We’ve been here before.
 

Long has the Song Druid come to know peace and understanding, unlike the youth Vor'kalan knew in those times. But the first Darkstalker held onto his fury like a vice -- he could not find it within himself to let go. And thus, he sought a duel to end it all.

"This matter is below me, Vor'kalan. I do not care."
"I do. I DO!"
"It will end, now."

No surprises; a settled score.



So they met upon an equal field, where the trees were sparse and the grass was free, and where the sun would be hidden even when the dusk was nearing. Blades were drawn; the madman, who wielded two, and the Elder Elf, who wielded one forged of living, blessed wood. They stood as equals, as adversaries, prepared to end a feud long overdue it's end.



I know the darkness, from inside.
Reckless rage, and poisoned pride.

They strode forth, and in seconds, blades clashed. The right-handed blade gifted by Faeyin herself was coiled by the blessed wood, while the the other made it's strikes; and after a pull of the ensnared weapon, the Elder Elf was tossed across the field, only to rise back up.
They continued.

I know the weakness.

They drew blood.

I know the pain.

They broke bone.

I know the fear, we do not name.

Until it all subsided. By the ancient sorceries of the Elder Elf Arik, they were both consumed by the growth of a formless oak; a forced draw, before Vor'kalan was spat out from it's quickly-decayed being half-broken and ruined. They were both worn and tired, not from the wounds they drew, not from the steel they swung, but from the feud they shared. They stood at a standstill.

... And the one who comes to find me,
when my time is through.

They laughed. It was a forlorn, tired cocophany; a sign of defeat from both sides, a sign they both gave up, for in the end it was all futile. Blood was drawn, and through the struggle of their feud, only a weakly-tangible unity was found. They were both old and mad. There was no point anymore. And so Vor'kalan shed his feud as Arik was so willing to ages before, leaving the Druid and his kind in peace, so he may find the same alongside Faeyin.

I know you.
 

 

[Song Druid 1486]

Some time later the Elf sits slurping noisily on a bowl of shroom soup.  Pausing, he muses, "It was nice to see an old friend again.  I do hope Faeyin comes by to visit too."

 

The air echoes with more slurping noises as he downs the remainder of the soup.  As the bowl clacks against the table, the Elf casts a gaze into the pond below.  Voice cool and wily as ever, he was unnerved to see his expression betrayed in his reflection in the still water; one of contemplation, concern and maybe even the tiniest hint of fear.

[Elad™ 560]

Moved to the Archive. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.