The Darkness that Tortured at Night

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Vane Freysson: A Life Shrouded in Nightmares and Regrets

 

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Vane Freysson, born into a world of shadows and torments, carried the weight of his troubled past throughout his life. From his earliest years, nightmares haunted his sleep, leaving an indelible mark on his psyche.

At the tender age of five, Vane's world shattered when his mother vanished, stealing away his sister and leaving behind a heart-wrenching letter. In her words, she accused Vane of harboring an irredeemable evil, a burden that would linger within his soul. Left bereft of maternal guidance, he was thrust into the care of his aging father, who too would soon depart from this world, leaving young Vane under the watchful eye of his uncles, Donovan and Toke.

 

While his uncles attempted to fill the void, teaching him the ways of the sword and the coin, they could never replace the presence of a father. Vane grew up in their tutelage, learning the intricacies of combat from Donovan and mastering the art of commerce under Toke's guidance. Yet, their teachings, while valuable, could not provide the nurturing upbringing he so desperately craved.

 

As Vane matured, he assumed the mantle of Norlandic Master of Coin, amassing a vast fortune for his proud nation. Through his tireless efforts, he ascended to the position of King, facing trials and battles that would shape his reign. He led Norland's forces against the southeron armies of Oren, the fierce Skanarri warriors, and the brutal hordes of the Svarling barbarians. Each conflict tested his mettle, leaving scars both seen and unseen.

 

In the realm of the heart, Vane found solace and love in the arms of the beautiful Daria. Their love burned brightly, yet circumstances and the weight of his responsibilities prevented them from joining in matrimony. Together, they brought forth three children into the world: Olivia, Odin, and Skjald. But tragedy seemed to follow in Vane's wake, as he endured the loss of his daughter Olivia, who met a grim fate in the temple of Alisgrad.

 

Regret became a constant companion for Vane. He lamented never making Daria his wife, recognizing the absence of his presence during critical moments of his kingdom's struggles, and the painful realization that he failed to connect deeply with his sons during their formative years. The burden of responsibility weighed heavily upon him, compounded by the guilt he felt for the destruction of his cherished home, Varhelm.

 

Vane's life was a tapestry woven with triumphs and tribulations, love and loss, battles fought and internal struggles waged. The nightmares that plagued him from his youth to his old age, and the ceaseless regrets that etched themselves into his soul, defined his journey. But through it all, Vane persevered, his spirit a flickering flame in the face of darkness, always striving to be the king his people needed and the father his children deserved.

 

 

The Darkness Pervades pt:1

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copied from this previous post

 

 

Vane stood in what seemed to be a boundless and unfathomable void, there was no light but the eerie glow, pulsating from where his left eye previously resided, in its place a rounded crimson crystal, august and imperial, an opulent luminescence emanating from within. Vane surveyed the measureless cavity of darkness, but could see no end, a true vacuum of oblivion. With a stultifying breath Vane began his stride, each step soundless and barren. The ashen king called out, but his voice did not carry, sound did not travel far in this place he realized. 

 

Vane stopped, after what seemed like hours, or even days, the knowledge that no matter what he did, naught would produce results took hold over his mind, no manner of action taken, hastened distance covered, or confounding scream... there was no escape. Vane exhaled, and emptiness washed over him, an acceptance of fact, and with acceptance, a sudden and jarring fall, a new terror rushed through the venerable kings body, faster and Faster and FASTER… until a precipitous halt. There was no blunt ending, he reached no ground, Vane merely ceased to fall, and before him stood a great thing of darkness. Ichorous masses bubbled from its surface, rising a few inches from its inky skin before popping and splattering back into its form, a shadow become tangible. It leaned in close putting what Vane only discerned as its face in cause of its sharpened yellowed teeth and guiled hollow eyes, the only parts of its shifting mass that stood permanent before his comparatively small frame, it said naught but smiled a large and primordial grin.

“What…” Vane paused to recast his thoughts “Who are you.” The great mass of shadow and murk howled a thunderous laugh “I have been with your people since they were warring tribes and before! I poked and prodded, sending man and monster, blizzard and inferno.” The being pronounced, a feeling of wicked pleasure exuding in its words “I am the Southlander, the Skanarri, the Inferi, the Svarling." it spoke, its voice a raucous chorus as if countless souls all spoke in unison. "I bashed down the doors of children in Elysium for the southern king, I scalped your comrades in Fenn for Zharteyr Rykhasson, I fired the arrow that slew High Chieftain Argos for the skanarri horde, I am the dragon that cooked your father alive, I am the inevitable, I cannot be escaped, I am the Darkness.” It roiled, appearing to pride itself in its exploits “And you?, your people?” It spit the words out like venom. “Everything will be mine soon enough.” it finally finished, appearing to Vane to have grown titanic in size "no…" Vane spoke, softly at first, balling his fists until his knuckles turned white “NO!" He shouted at the visage of darkness, his eye growing brighter and brighter, illuminating everything around him, the beast let out an echoing chuckle. "There is nothing you can do to stop me." It said, its cavernous maw unhinging, swinging progressively more and more agape as it moved to consume the Herald’s progeny. Vane shut his eyes, the red incandescence of his false orbit receding with his vision as he waited to be devoured.

 

But nothing came, no crunching of bones or gnawing of flesh, as Vanes heart once again returned to its natural beat he opened his eyes, the bright red light of his eye returned to cast its refulgent vermillion glare upon the landscape before him, this time a sparse forest of desiccated trees, old and cracked, long past dead. The ground before him was a packed hoary dirt with a lone cobbled laden road that traveled serpentine upwards to a singular cabin made of stacked timbers and coagulated mud. Within the confines of the forest roamed idled spirits and indolent corpses, meandering lazily through the thicket and grove. At the base of the path a figure awaited the haggard king, translucent and skeletal, neath an all encompassing hooded cloak, like a reaper come to shepherd souls, it raised its cadaverous hand and reticently pointed up the pitted cobbles of the winded road.

 

 

Ascending the path, Vane felt an encircling unease, the faces of the meandering wraiths transient and familiar in his mind. Perhaps these visitant phantoms were old foes, or friends. As Vane crested the end of the cobblestone path, standing resolute before the cabin's wooden portal. Vane took in a deep inhale and knocked at the door. His heart beat, once… twice.. And then, a voice. “Just a moment…” A woman called, the voice sweet like honey in his ears, the twinge of recognition shivered up his spine, yet he couldn’t quite place why. After a moment the woman pressed open the door, the screeching creak of time escaping the old hinges, an aged woman stood at the frame, near his own maturing age, with olive skin and stygian hair, images of the qali desert, and the women who lived there were conjured in his mind as he entered. The woman offered him a seat at a modest wooden table with homely matching chairs at which he took his vantage. Vane took stock of the single roomed cabin, a bed, a table and chairs, some drawers and a cauldron cooking over a fire. The woman positioned herself at the counter next to the cauldron, and began hewing at a small assemblage of vegetables, speaking over her shoulder at him “You’ve come a long way just to end up here.” She spoke matter of factly, sliding some carrots off the counter and into the cauldron with her knife. “There was a monster.” he responded slowly, trying to puzzle together the events that had conspired to his current residence “It was the darkness. It tried to consume me.” The woman stirred the cauldron before going back to chop more vegetables “Oh?” she perked, seemingly half distracted by her own craft “Isn’t that inevitable?”. Vane looked surprised, raising his brow at the woman, hoping to catch that air of familiarity that exuded from her form “No.” he stated, narrowing his eye at her “We resist the darkness, and one day, we will help the Father drive it back, we will have victory.” he said, undaunted and emboldened in his own beliefs. “Victory?” The woman said, sliding the rest of the vegetables into the cauldron in one swift movement, the raking sound of the knife on the wooden counter causing his own ears to twinge, she began stirring the blackened pot as she spoke “A hollow notion, ridiculous even, we are born of the darkness, and in time, we will be returned to it, we are but fleeting errors.”. Vane slammed his fist on the table, standing up and edging the chair back with a loud scraping peal. “My family has been fighting the darkness for centuries, we will never stop!” The woman grimaced as he drug the chair across the cabins stone floor, her face gingerly growing to one of light irritation as she ladled the thick broth into a bowl for him “The great family of Ruric, standing alone, watching as the darkness reclaims what is owed, helpless to stop what is coming.” She said placing the bowl before him with care “Fight, don’t fight, it does not matter.” she said going to fetch another bowl for herself, taking her own place across the table from him. Vane took in the smell of the warm soup, grasping at the spoon that lay on the table and glaring at the woman in an indignated resentment, the realization dawning on him that this woman was not a stranger, but his own sister, Vera, taken decades ago by their mother. she looked up, noticing the recognition in his eyes, “So you finally figured it out…” she said, her pupils swelling until they consumed the entirety of her eyes with wicked and iniquit darkness “You're not her, are you… Vera.” he said softly, now recognizing the dish as his mothers own recipe “No.” she said, her face shifting to become sullen and morose, as if in regret for Vane “I’m not her. she’s gone… your mother is gone, your father, your uncles, everyone… and soon, I will consume the rest of the people you care about.” she said, her voice dipping, become deeper and deeper, gathering into a chorus of lost voices speaking together “I am inevitable and I will consume this world, you only prolong the inevitable, you may as well just lay down your arms instead of playing this silly game.” She paused, allowing him to take in her presence, not one of anger or malice, but like a mother informing an insolent child “or fight.” she said softly, as if she no longer cared, using a spoon to idly stir at the soup before her, her voice returning to its original smooth, silken cadence “Like I said, it doesn’t matter, but if it helps, you may seek solace in the manner befitting your lineage, and take up your nugatory vigil, but in the end…” she said scooping a bit of the soup and sipping at it “I will drink this world.” she said, looking up to him, glaring through his body like a knife, causing Vane’s head to spin, the cabin both twirling around him and melting at the same time. 

 

 

 

“No!” Vane said shooting upright in his bed, cold sweat pouring down his brow as he breathed heavily, looking to his side to see the woman he loved lying there, stirring at his interruption, and his newborn child laying in a crib just beyond her sleeping soundly.

 

Vane lay back in the bed, thinking about his most recent nightmare, one of too many as of late. Had the darkness been toying with his mind he thought to himself, or had he just been too stressed, overworked? He didn’t know, but he sought comfort knowing that he had something to protect, and that he would do everything, anything, to keep them safe from the darkness.

 

The Darkness Pervades pt:2

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Vane's frail body sank into the softness of his bed as sleep washed over him, yet his mind remained restless. The weight of his responsibilities and the ghosts of his past intertwined, weaving a tapestry of unease that plagued his dreams.

 

In the depths of slumber, Vane found himself standing in the grand hall of Norland's castle. The air was heavy with an oppressive silence, and the flickering torches cast eerie shadows upon the ancient stone walls. A feeling of foreboding hung in the air, tightening its grip around Vane's heart. As he walked through the hall, whispers echoed in his ears, faint but persistent. They carried the voices of his loved ones, mingled with the haunting echoes of his own doubts and regrets. The Darkness, ever-present and malevolent, began to manifest before him, distorting the familiar faces of his family and kin.

 

First, it took the form of Daria, his beloved. Her once warm and tender expression contorted into a mask of despair, accusing eyes filled with disappointment. "You failed me, Vane," she whispered, her voice a haunting echo. "You should have protected us all."

A wave of guilt washed over Vane, threatening to drown him. He reached out to Daria, but his trembling hands passed through her ephemeral figure, leaving only a void of emptiness. The Darkness reveled in his anguish.

 

Next, the figure of Odin emerged from the shadows, his kingly presence warped into a twisted version of his son. His eyes, once filled with admiration and respect, now burned with resentment and reproach. "You left me to bear the weight alone, father," Odin's voice pierced through the silence. "You abandoned your kingdom, and you abandoned me."

Vane's heart ached with sorrow as he tried to explain, to find solace in the love that once bound them together. But the Darkness only grew stronger, feeding on his remorse and planting seeds of doubt.

 

The faces of his father, Olaf, his uncles Donovan and Toke, all morphed into distorted visages of disappointment and disapproval. They blamed him for their own misfortunes, for the kingdom's downfall, for his mother's departure. Each accusing voice echoed in unison, forming a chorus of condemnation that reverberated through Vane's very soul.

The Darkness, reveling in its victory, swirled around Vane, enveloping him in its suffocating embrace. Terrifying images flashed before his eyes—families torn apart, kingdoms reduced to ashes, a world consumed by the relentless grip of the Long Dark. It whispered vile promises of surrender and eternal torment.

But amidst the despair, a flicker of resilience ignited within Vane's heart.The struggles of his reign, and the love he held for his family converged to fuel his defiance. With every ounce of his being, he fought back against the taunting Darkness.

 

As the dream world shattered, Vane awoke drenched in a cold sweat, his breathing ragged and heart pounding. Though shaken, he clung to the glimmer of hope within him, and to defy the darkness that sought to consume his world. For Vane knew that even in the darkest of nights, a flame of courage and redemption could still burn bright, lighting the path towards a better future.

 

The Darkness Pervades pt:3

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Vane's weary body settled into the embrace of his bed, his mind drifting reluctantly into the realm of dreams once more. As slumber wrapped its ethereal tendrils around him, he found himself transported to a desolate landscape, cloaked in an oppressive darkness that seemed to seep into his very bones. In this nightmarish realm, Vane stood face to face with the embodiment of his torment—the Darkness. It loomed before him, a sinister presence with piercing eyes that held the weight of countless malevolences. The air grew heavy with the scent of despair, and the silence hung like a suffocating fog.

 

Vane mustered his strength, confronting the malevolent force that sought to devour his resolve. "Why do you haunt me, Darkness?" he demanded, his voice tinged with weariness but laced with defiance. "What purpose do you serve?"

The Darkness let out a chilling laugh that echoed through the empty expanse. "Oh, Vane, my dear lost soul," it hissed, its voice a serpent's whisper. "I am the harbinger of truth, the revealer of your deepest fears and failures. I am here to remind you of the futility of your struggle, the insignificance of your existence."

Vane squared his shoulders, his eyes gleaming with a flicker of defiance. "I have seen the devastation you bring, the lives you destroy," he countered. "But I will not yield. I will continue to fight, to protect my family and my people."

 

The Darkness circled him, its form shifting and contorting with every step. "Protect? And what have you truly protected, Vane?" it taunted. "Your kingdom lies in ruins, your people scattered and broken. Your son, the King, follows in your footsteps, a mere puppet in my grand design." A surge of anguish welled up within Vane, intertwining with his determination. "No! My son, Odin, is strong and righteous. He will not succumb to your treacherous whispers."

 

The Darkness laughed again, the sound grating against Vane's frayed nerves. "You underestimate my influence, old man. Your son, like you, is burdened by the weight of his lineage. His throne rests upon crumbling foundations, and I will be there to exploit his doubts, to tear him apart piece by piece." Vane's fists clenched, his voice tinged with desperation. "I will not allow you to corrupt him. I will stand between you and my son, no matter the cost." The Darkness's laughter transformed into a low, menacing growl. "You think your feeble attempts at resistance matter? You are but a pawn in a game you can never win. The Long Dark draws near, and your futile struggles only delay the inevitable." Vane's eyes blazed with defiance as he locked gazes with the embodiment of his torment. "The Father teaches that even in the face of darkness, we must strive to live an honorable life. We must never surrender to despair, for it is in our unity and resilience that we find strength."

 

A twisted smile curled upon the Darkness's lips, its voice dripping with malicious delight. "Ah, the teachings of the Red Faith. How quaint. Tell me, Vane, have your prayers and beliefs ever truly saved you? Have they prevented your kingdom's demise? Your mother's descent into madness? Your daughter's fate?" Pain and regret seared through Vane's heart, but his spirit remained unyielding. "No, they have not saved me from the tragedies that have befallen my life. But they have given me purpose, they have taught me to fight even when hope seems distant. And I will fight until my last breath." The Darkness lunged forward, its grotesque form twisting and writhing with fury. "So be it, Vane. Your defiance only fuels my hunger. I will revel in your suffering, and in the end, I will consume all that you hold dear." 

 

As the nightmare reached its crescendo, Vane awoke with a start, his body drenched in sweat and his heart racing. The chilling words of the Darkness echoed in his mind, The constant hauntings chipped away at his resolve. Though the battle against the Long Dark seemed insurmountable, Vane would not yield, he could not, for Odin, for the memory of Daria, and Olivia, and Skjald. With renewed determination, he steeled his heart and his mind, he would be resolute against the ceaseless attempts of the Darkness, For even in the face of the encroaching Darkness, there still flickered a glimmer of hope—a flame of resilience that burned within Vane's soul, refusing to be extinguished.