Hall of the Immortals
Chapter 5: The Hunt for Sidh
For weeks Oark, led sweeping hunt
parties in search of Sidh, but she could never be found. In the
morning, a new corpse would be found of a victim she drained through
the night. In an effort to stifle her, Oark instituted strict curfews
on all of the inhabitants of the great city; Despite these efforts
the bodies of more victims were found daily. In spite of the set
backs, the hunting party continued to exam and worked harder in their efforts to track
the elusive killer. Oark grew despondent as the days progressed. His
lack of sleep, due to the persistent torments of Death, and the
growing epidemic of deaths weighed heavily on him. His council
requested an early gathering on the fifteenth consecutive day of
murders. Begrudgingly, Oark appeared before their summons, though his
lack of sleep was evident as he stood before them. The council set
forth multiple alternate solutions which stretched from ludicrous to
absurd, yet in the end a lone voice spoke out speculating using bait
to capture the killer. Thus far, all of Sidh's victims had been those
in the outskirts of the city. The council member suggested sending
out a lone person to travel outside the city a short distance to be
used as bait for the daughter of Death.
A disturbing note struck in Oark's mind
as he contemplated the situation. The council knew nothing of Sidh,
not who she was prior nor who she had become. All they knew was they
were hunting an unconventional murderer. Using bait was a scenario he
had not yet reflected on, though the strategy behind it seemed sound.
They would send one out and lay in wait nearby with the hunting
party.
"I agree with this." Oark
spoke, breaking the lull that had grown over the procession, "I
shall offer one of my descendants as tribute for bait." A
shallow gasp was shared among the council. Oark had children
centuries past and the descendants from them still lived in the
outskirts of the city. The fact he was offering one of these
descendants as tribute for bait was a motion that the council did not
take lightly.
"We will humbly accept
this gift, our master." Oark took his leave as the council began
hushed discussions on preparations for the trap. Oark knew that
despite how the council took his intentions, that ultimately he made
his decision out of guilt for the situation. The council, nor any
others in the city, were aware of his involvement with Sidh. In truth
he doubted any even knew of her existence.
Oark's heart and countenance was heavy
as he made his way through the crowds of people and to his chambers.
Entering, he again admired the modesty of the dwelling. He ran his
fingers over the smooth rocky walls. He admired the subtle wooden
furniture, which had been made to appear as though it were growing
from the floor. He admired his bed, the soft bird feathers used to
fill the silky fabric was wonderful in comparison to the grass of
traditional beds. His bed was his true vice. As he looked upon it, Oark was startled to see a figure laying in it. His heart beat feverishly
as he rushed forward and pulled back the sheet.
Ha ha ha!
Death's
chuckle rang in Oark's mind as he realized the feathers in the bed
had been shifted to appear as though someone was laying there.
Cursing out loud at Death for his continued torture, he made the bed
and fixed the lumps. His heart had raced for Sidh as it had so long
ago, and Death didn't realize how strongly he'd hoped that it was her
in his bed. Instead of laying down, he moved back to the entry room
of his dwelling and sat in a large wooden chair near the ornate fireplace.
The weather was still too warm to require a fire indoors, however,
the seat was still his favorite place in his dwelling.
Sighing
visibly, Oark looked around and took note that despite his efforts,
he had to come to terms with the fact that little in his abode was
modest. Over time he had acquired a great deal of exotic and fancy
items, often as gifts. A massive painting of a pair of puma hung on the
wall behind where he sat. While paintings were now common in many
dwellings in the city, it was difficult to say that they were close
to competing to the level of detail present in this painting. Oark
had painted it himself and it was a tribute to his many years of
practice and attention to minute detail. The part of the image that
really set it apart however was the sheer size of the painting. It
was every bit of life size and it, the frame that adorned it, was made
of the same style as the rest of the furniture. Further setting his
dwelling apart was the feature of a private abode. Very few dwellings
contained a place to relieve yourself without having to depart for
the outdoors.
"Why
does any of this even matter?" Oark growled as he realized that
his thoughts had drifted to such a distracted state. "Sidh, when
will I find you?"
With a
bitter taste in his mouth, Oark rose and went to his bed to lay down
and rest. No sooner had his head laid down that slept met him. In a
moment, Death was there in his dreams to continue his haunted torture.
The figure stood in Oark's mind as clearly as though Death were next
to his bed. He tried to pretend it was just a dream, but the truth of
the matter lingered that this was not really a dream at all.
Something special planned today.
Death
almost seemed gleeful as a room came into focus. In an instant, Oark
was strapped to a table in the middle of the room. Various torture
devices were to be seen everywhere in the small, highly heated room.
This was his living hell. Whenever he closed his eyes, Death would
bring him here to die a thousand deaths. Death moved to him, bony
fingers circling where Oark's heart lay in his chest. Oark
resignedly laid back and tried not to focus on what he knew was to
come. Death wished to spend these sleeping hours cutting out Oark's
heart, so be it. The pain he experienced was as real as it were
outside of his dreams. This time instead of just cutting out his
heart, Death also made him eat it raw. Then, after he'd healed, the
process was repeated.
Finally,
Oark felt his mind start to awaken, as his body left the torture room.
With relief, he rose from his bed. Seeing how late in the day it was, he had to quickly go and get ready for the ambush. Tired as he was, he also
knew that his body needed that rest even if his mind was tortured for
it. Arriving at the city gates, he was met by Durrak.
"Greetings Asin-Ai!" Durrak strode forward with haste to Oark. "The
preparations are complete. We have your tribute in waiting. The
moment the sun touches the horizon, it will be done." Oark
nodded and looked at the well equipped hunting party. All among
without exception were adorned with light plated armor. Bucklers
fastened tightly to their arms and swords graced every hip. The might of the
soldiers and volunteers present were humbling. Despite not fearing
Death, Oark would still dislike facing such a force.
"Where
is my tribute, Durrak?" Oark asked, as his captain had turned to
give continued commands.
"Eh?"
Durrak spun on his heel to face Oark and cleared his throat. "Asin-Ai, I did not hear
what you've asked. Would you repeat yourself?" Oark shook his
head and moved to get adorned in similar garb as the others. Durrak
wasted no time on Oark's interruption and moved on with the
preparations. Oark realized it didn't matter who the tribute was with
a hunting party this large. The soldiers, the volunteers, and Oark
all moved out and got into their places along the path. The sun was
setting and it took only a short time before the bait stepped out
from the city gates. The gates closed violently behind her as though
to attenuate her appearance.
"Solara..."
Oark felt his mind and heart lurch as he looked upon his descendant.
Solara had blazing red hair, for where she was named, and a dark
complexion. There was a soft spot in his heart for her as she came
often to his dwelling to pay homage and offer Oark friendly company.
She, unlike most of the other descendants, seemed to genuinely have
interest in the man who sired her line. She would bring him cook
dishes of food, clean his dwelling, and adorn his dwelling with fresh
flowers at appropriate times. Her visits were infrequent but he had
grown to admire her for them, the first of his descendants in many
generations to make any effort at knowing him. She must have offered
herself as the tribute when they came to collect a descendant.
Solara
strolled boldly down the path and stood on top of the hill, which was
the designated place for her tribute. Hours crept by in agony as the
tribute went unclaimed, until at least Solara turned to walk back to
the city. The first rays of sunlight were visible on the horizon by
the time she'd arrived at the gates. The hunting party rose from
their respective places and met her at the gate. As Oark arrived he
saw why none had passed the entrance A bloodied member of the hunting
party lay dead, his blood adorning the gate itself.
Next
time send her alone
The
words painted in blood struck Oark and he felt disturbed from the
message. His heart pounded swiftly as he realized how foolish it was
to try and ambush her. Another life cost at his folly.
"We
do this again, just as tonight." Oark announced before grabbing
Solara by her arm and guided her to the now opening gate. "You
shall come with me, for we have much to discuss." Leading her on
into the city, they arrived at his dwelling. Once they were inside, she
prepared a small meal for them as he spoke to her about Sidh, his
relationship with her, Death, and what has happened since then.
"It
sounds to me as though this is all your fault." Solara spoke
truthfully to Oark, something he'd requested she do when she had been
much younger. "Which is why you offered me as a tribute."
It wasn't a question, she said it clearly as a statement.
"I
did not offer you specifically. I offered one of my descendants."
The statement hung in the air as Solara nodded solemnly. They both
knew she'd volunteered, yet neither spoke of it. Solara brightened up
as she rose and announced she'd return in the evening. Her charming
way of being positive in all things helped Oark to feel more at ease
with the situation, if only briefly. She was always positive in spite
of his often sullen moods.
That
evening, as promised, she returned to his dwelling and together they
departed for the city gates. As had happened the night prior, they
set the trap once more and at dusk Solara departed the city. Unlike
before, Oark lingered near the gate and in the midnight hours he
witnessed a figure approaching, dragging a body of one of the hunting
party towards the gate.
"Sidh."
As he spoke, the figure straightened, visibly distrubed. In a moment
she'd dropped the body and rushed to him.
"I
should have known you to have grown wise to my plan." Sidh's
voice was shrill and he felt no love in her tone. She spat her words
and contempt could be heard behind each word spoken.
"You
blame me for the curse Death bestowed on you." As he spoke, he
realized it was a needless statement. She cursed him.
"You
are truly the monster Oark, not I. To offer Solara sickens me."
She spat at the ground between them and then turned her back to him.
"I shall enjoy drinking her dry." Before Oark could so much
as reach out, Sidh dashed with speed inhumane down the path towards
the hill.
"Stop!
Stop her, she's rushing the hill!" Oark bellowed the words as he
pursued, the hill was hardly outside the city walls. Yet it seemed
miles away as he ran towards it. In the silhouette of the moonlight, he
could see Solara be over taken by Sidh. The hunting party swarmed, but
it was too late to stop Sidh feeding from Solara. She didn't have
time to drain her dry as she had promised, but by the time that Sidh
had fled she nearly had. Oark rushed to Solara and wept at her side.
Weakly, she reached out and wrapped her delicate arms around his neck.
Cooing softly, she reassured him that she was still alive. Anger
emanated off of him as he scooped her into his arms and carried her
back to the city. He carried her all the way to his dwelling,
ignoring any and all that approached him. As they arrived, he laid her
gently on his bed and stayed by her side.
Within
hours, she'd grown feverish, and Oark knew she would soon die. They
had never yet interrupted Sidh's feeding, but Oark felt that it merely
prolonged the death. He waited by her side for hours, as her fever
grew worse. Healers had come, but all had departed stating that it was
beyond them to save her. Solara weakly cursed Sidh and asked Oark to
go to her dwelling and return with her family.
"Durrak!"
Oark shouted, knowing that the captain would be within earshot.
"No..."
Solara spoke weakly and trembling, "You. Please." Oark
nodded and as Durrak entered, Oark rose.
"I
must step out for a task, please stay by her side and guard her."
Durrak swiftly moved to the bedside and bowed at Oark as he departed.
The trek to the descendants dwellings felt absurdly far. As he made
his way there, he then had the task of trying to determine who Solara
had wanted. The descendants had many dwellings and it had been
generations since the last time Oark had even visited this region of
the city. Going door to door, he found her family and gathered them to
follow him. They began a solemn march back to the inner city and to
Oark's dwelling. As they approached, Oark slowed them,
"I
shall see whom she wishes to see first. There are many of you and my
dwelling lacks room for us all." As he entered and moved toward
the bed chambers, he heard rushed movement. Fearing Sidh had returned, he rushed to his bed. Blood pooled around Durrak who was slumped
against the wall, gripping his neck tightly. Solara stood opposite the
bed from him, back turned from both. As she turned Oark felt his
heart drop. Blood dripped from her mouth, stained her chin, and drops
fell to her chest.
"Oark,
what have I done?"
