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Serilde

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"Have we found it?"

Brother Falceon shook his head solemly, sliding his helmet off and looked to the other asembled brothers.

"It is here, where it was prescribed to be a hundred thousand years ago."

"Well? Why do we stand idle when it can be destroyed."

Brother Falceon looked down to the young priest who had spoken up out of turn. "Always eager are the young. Paitence." In an unchartiersitcly human responce, Falceon slid his gauntled off and ran his massive palm over his head, rubbing through the short cropped already salt and peper black hair. "Go ahead, brother, step through and see what lay within. Strike it down, if you wish." Falceon stepped away from the entrance to the cave the Brothers of Helm gathered outside off, motioning with his bare hand for the upstart to walk through.

Blistered by the stares from the others standing there, the young preist donned his helmet, hefted the weight of his hammer and stalked through the entrance.

Falceon waited, his eyes unwaveringly fixed not on the cave or the other priests but out into the vastness of the night air. Somewhere between the stars and the black tree line there was an answer to this puzzle, faith would lead him too it. After a moment there was a shout from inside the cave. Falceon held up his hand. "He is in no danger."

A moment later the young priest stumbled out of the cave pale. "That... That's what's been prophasised?"

Falceon nodded, never looking at the man.

"But.. It's just a baby. Just a little girl in swaddling cloth."

Falceon nodded and the gathering of priests let out a communal sigh.

*********


"It's out of the question Falceon!! You've seen the same things we all have. You must be out of your mind!!" The temple head, a small minded man by the name of Demtris shook a finger at the elder priest and skowled, skin red. "You know better than any of us that... thing.."

"That child." Falceon corrected cooly.

"Fine, that child draws it's..."

"Her."

"You are trying to irritate me."

"Paitence. Temperance. Are these not part of our training?"

"And so too and foremost is obidence. Have you forgotten that in this maddness?'

Slowly, Falceon slid his helmet off and set it on the table with a heavy metal clank. His two heavy gauntlets slammed down on that same table. "Follow orders, so long as they do not interfear with the will of Helm. And, I do not need to remind you who first and foremost it is our divine duty to serve. To protect. Who needs the mercy and gentle hand of Helm more than a lost and orphaned girl-child?"

The firm tone of the elder priest stilled Demtris at least to some extent and he sat heavily. "She draws her gifts from a place beyond this world."

"One that we know nothing about." His expression never changed, over the years his bland stern expression had become something of a point of envy among the rest of the clergy. "One that we have no reason to believe is evil. Would we have not seen signs of it? Would it's presence not taint her and leave a dectectible trace?"

Demtris considered this for a long while. "We cannot protect her from this entitie forever."

Falceon shook his head. "Nor should we. All I ask is that we give her the skills to protect herself when the time comes." Lifting his helmet from the table.

"Once again brother, you dilligence and wisdom amazes this church." Demtris shook his head, carefully keeping the bitterness from his tone.

"I am only a servent. Good day Brother." Falceon didn't wait to be dismissed, as techincally his rank was leaps and bounds beyond that of the man at the table across from him.

Serilde, only six now, and dressed akwardly in priest robes that one of the good father had taliored to sort of fit her, sat outside of the high priests office playing with a little leather ball. "Papa?" she asked as Falceon stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

The giant of a man sighed and leaned down to pick her up. "I wish you wouldn't call me that."

"Why not? I loooooooooove you!" And with an excited squeal, she put her little arms around his neck, now more than used to hugging him like that without getting poked by the pointy bits by his armor.

"And I wonder why the other men have started snickering when I look away." He sighed and carried his ward

*********


"He wants to what?!?!" In all his fifty three years of life, in his fourty some odd years of service to Helm, in all the terrors and dangers Falceon had faced, gazing at the sixteen year old across from him, his ward and in all sense save one, his daughter, this had to be the most terrifying.

"He wants to marry me papa! Could you imagine? Marry a little orphan preistess? I've never been so excited in my whole life!" Seridle had already removed most of her armor, and in her linnin jerkin and wrapped pants she spun slowly, as if in a gown that which the skirt of would flutter out into the air around her.

The 'he' in question was a young noble in town, and without a doubt, Falceon had known he would be trouble from the get go. At his age, Falceon could puzzle out most men he met in about the time it takes most people to blink. And this 'he' was, as far as Falceon could tell, only after one thing. The elder preist shook his head and ran a hand over his head. "Are you sure that's what he said? Marry? You sure he didn't say harry you.. You know, harry you along back to the temple and your father?"

"Oh papa." She laughed lightly and it trembled in the air like silver bells. "He gave me a ring, look." She stepped forward and showed him the platium band around her finger, set with a heavy dimond the likes of which Falceon had never actually seen this close. "His mother said she would help me get a dress, and that the dowery wasn't important. All they want is your blessing! Can you imagine? It's like a dream! I'm goint to be a lady!"

The man sighed and sat back. He could see clearly the girl was invisning herself in fine brocade and lace, dancing through the halls of nobility like she'd been born to it... And for what it was worth, he could visualize the same thing. "What about your vows?"

"Papa, don't be silly, I don't have brake any of my vows. Plenty of the clergy are married."

He couldn't argue that, the problem was few of the clergy were women, and fewer still were his daughters. "What can I say?" He said after a long silence watching her float in her cloud of adoration. "I hope he's worth it."

"He is papa! Oh, I love you so much!" Gushing, the girl rushed forward and hugged Falceon hard around the neck. Well, he thought as she hurt his neck alittle in the embrace. At least he knew she'd be able to handle herself if this noble stepped out of line.

*********


The.... Celebration... was but two weeks away and somehow Brother Falecon didn't feel much like celebrating. Most of the town near by was in an uproar, turned on it's ear in preperation for the wedding, even a great deal of the temple found some way to be involved. For an orphan, he thought, his daughter certinly had a large family. But, she was like a light. Everyone she touched grew just a little brighter for her passing.

And some no good dillatane was taking his light away.

He sighed heavly and returned to the slow and time consuming taks of oiling and shinning his armor. It was a point of pride to him that it never saw tarnish, to this, Falceon would often fit in the foyer of the temple, so that passer bys could see how well he cared for it, and therefore be lead by example.

And so it happened on that night he was the only one sitting in the foyer when his daughter, his own small light in the world stumbled in the great marble doors covered in blood and screaming. It was an image that burned itself in the battle hardened priests mind and would likely remain, even after he died. Her dress, a fine silk work of art her mother in law to be and lent to her ripped and torn so that her body, strong and lean could eaisly be seen in bits and peices. Her lip split, though the only visable wound, was clearly not the sorce of all the blood that stained her body and gown.

With grace of god, Facleon moved, his armor clanging to the floor loud enough to wake who ever hadn't been awoken by the screaming. He was at her side, scooping up her battered form before she had a chance to faint. "By heaven and hell!" He thundered. "What has happened to you?"

Trembling, she clung to her father and whispered. "He wouldn't wait.... I told him I just wanted to wait... But he wouldn't, and he had his friends with him. If it had been just him.." She broke into sobs and Falceon held her close. He trembled as well, though a diffrent emotion took him by far.

Many of the clergy had already gathered in a semi circle in the dim evening, silent and waiting.

"You!" He barked to one of the priestess who stood in the group. She stepped forward waiting to accept his daughter before he asked. Nodding, Falceon passed the girl to the women. "Get her to the healers and see she feels no pain." One of the younger acolytes moved swiftly, bringing the elder priest his armor. "See they give her the plants I've heard of, I'll have no forced seed planted in my child." Barking further as the acolyte helped him into his armor. "You!" He pointed again. "Gather a talon, we move through the town tonight."

A man stood forward and nodded. "As you wish brother... But.. Surely you know the punishment for crimes agenst a women is.."

"I know well the laws and would remind you not to question your elders. Gather the talon. There will be justice tonight, swift and painful."

The verious men and women nodded and departed quickly to their tasks. Falceon slid his helmet on, blessing it's desgin, the viser conceled the shame of his tears.

*********


Old now, far older than only a seasons passing should have made her, Serilde stood in her small chamber packing her things.

"Is this really what you want?" The mans voice broke the silence of her thoughts and she turned only half her attention to her father standing in the door way.

"It will be good for me. I'm tired of being treated diffrently than the other acolytes. I wish for the same duty and responsibilty as any other servant of Helm. I... I won't get that here."

The man nodded and stepped into the room, watching her fold and wrap her life up and tuck it neatly into a pack. Did she really have so little, he wondered. Had he really given her so little over the years. "That's very wise of you." He said finally.

"Right." She sighed. "Who knows, maybe it will be fun, the temple father said all the womens other guards left in frustration. Maybe I can make a differnce in her life."

Falceon nodded, silenced as he was frankly afraid to speak.

"Papa.." She turned slowly to look at him. "For what it's worth... You were right. I, I wish I had listened to you." Since that night, she hadn't spoken of it, hadn't said a word, and as she spoke he could see a little of the light she'd lost brake through. With effort, he cracked a smile for her.

"The day when a child listens completely to the widsom of her elders is the day she is no longer a child." He clearned his throat and reached out, wiping a tear away from her cheek. "Your ready. Even if I'm not."

She laughed and hugged him hard around the neck. "I love you papa."

*********


The bed squeeked under the sudden presence of a body on it, with a loud grunt, a second body hit the bed just as hard. In the flickering candle light flesh pressed hard agenst flesh and the couple made love passonatly up agenst a wall, thir moans puncuated by the squeak of the bed.

In her place sitting outside of her mistresses bedroom, Serilde tried in vein to say her prayers.

It wasn't exactly how she expected her adventuring life to go. For the most part, the great evils she faced daily where cut purses and, on a good day, bandits. Her mistress did half her fighting in the courts, and her other half in the bedroom.

"Oh gods yes! Grab me harder!"

Serilde shifted uncomforably and turned the page of her prayer book trying to find her prayer for celebacy. It wasn't that she nessarly had a problem with the womens insatiable sexual appitite. It wasn't frankly any of her business. And the teasings about her 'innocence' when it came to men by now simply rolled off of Serilde's back like water off a duck. Even the occasional drunken come ons and sloppy half cocked seductions didn't bother her anymore. They all boiled down to Serilde saying no and tossing the lady into bed before returning to her prayers.

"Oooh Dahliah! I can't... Gods! No womens ever done things to me like this before!"

That had to be it. It had to be all the noise.

And then there was a wet noise.

And then there was silence and Serilde knocked her chair over getting up and kicked the door open, her mace already in hand.

But she was too late.

Dahliah lay spread across the sheets, her neck broken and smeared with something dark. The man was gone.

Serilde had failed.

*********


"The temple doesn't blame you for what happened, you know that right?"

Back in her small chamber at home, the women shook her head, silent.

"You couldn't help what happened, no one there realized she'd taken in with a vampire. You've been clearned of wrong, just exactly what does sitting here doing nothing but sulking acomplish?"

"I am not doing nothing." She snapped at her father and turned back to the book in her lap. "I'm studying. I won't be caught of guard like that again. Period."

The man, now into his sixities hadn't the strength for a head strong women in her twenties, and yet, what could he do, it was his little girl who suffered somewhere under all that armor. "Alright. Will you join me for dinner at least? I have missed how you cheer me just by being around."

"I'll come, I don't know how good of company I'll be."

Flaceon shook his head. "Better than I could hope for otherwise. I'll see you in a few hours." He turned to leave, and paused at the door. "I um, I like the way you've grown your hair. I always thought the military cut common around here didn't suit you so well."

Serilde blinked and looked up to her father and looked back to the long silken black braids that sat across her sholders. "Thanks. It had been an order."

The man nodded. "Well, a good one. you should keep it that way if it doesn't get in your way." Akwardly, the old priest stepped out of the room and went on about his buisness.

Sighing, the women set her book aside and moved to the tall narrow window of her chamber and pushed open the glass to let the wind in. She considered the braid and released the clasp at it's end, freeing her hair from it's bindings. It fell loose and long nearly to her ankles now, bone straight and black as night. The wind picked up and carried the sent of night blooming flowers to her noise. It danced through her room and played at the ends of that long mein. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. Dahliah had worn oil that smelled that way, soft and exotic, full of secrets promised.

Serilde... The wind whispered her name and she shivered some, hugging herself. Serilde... Come to me. I miss you my loyal protector. I am cold out here alone in the night.

The women shook her head and looked around. There was no one in the room, her mind, she decided, was playing tricks. Stepping back to close the glass, she gasped. Out in the dim light of evening, a figure stood below her window. Pale, and thin, but unmistakably Dahliah.

Come to me.. Bring me release.. I need you tonight.

Gasping, she stepped back from the window, her cavs hit the bed and she fell into a sitting position on it, breathless. When she looked again, the figure was gone.

Anger robbed her of thought, and she rose from the bed, armorless and with only her mace, she stalked out of the room and folllowed the halls until she came out into the open night.

Her father passed her somewhere in the hall and if it hadn't been for a caterax in his left eye now, he might have seen the mace, might have suspected something and stopped her.

"Where are you?" She hissed out into the still night. "Ghost or demon come to taunt, I do not fear you! I'll strike you down with my bare hands if I need."

"Would you strike me down, would you hurt me?" She hadn't heard the approuch, but her mistresses words rang in her ear as if whispered beside her. A cold hand ran along her cheek and Serilde spun, but no one stood behind her.

"All of that time, all of those men, I was really only ever thinking of you. I tried so many times to think of ways to tell you." Another hand passed along the womens stomach, felt easily through the sheer linning of her simple gown. She turned to see nothing.

"Stop playing and show yourself. I would end this now."

"And I would have it go on forever. I never knew before how to tell you, but I have been freed of the illusion of responsibilty. All that I have now is my love for you, it has brought me back from my own grave." Before she could react, cold impossibly strong arms locked around her, one across her sholders and one across her stomach. She could feel cold breath rush out along her neck.

"Your not Dahliah anymore... Just a demon in her form. Your tricks won't work on me. I'd sooner die than give into you."

"We shall see. But do not fool yourself. I am every bit the women I was in life." Clenched back harder, Serilde could feel the soft and full roundness of the other womens breasts in her back. The arm locked across her sholders lighted slowly, and a hand drifted to caress her breast through the linnin. "And I can feel your desire for me." Lips passed Serilde's ear and throat, tattoing faint airy kisses along her skin.

"The flesh is weak and does not matter. I would... I would strike you down......." Her words lost their power as the creature in the guise of her mistress ran an hand along her body, exploring it through the linnin.

"Is it so hard to give in to your desire? Is it so hard to let me have you? I knew you watched me and those men some times. I could feel your eyes on me. I could tell you wished it was you benight me and not those men."

The young preistess had no answer for the monster, her jaw clenched tight panting hard through her teeth.

"So resistant. I will enjoy braking you slowly. But first... Just a taste."

She felt her head jerked to the side by the monsters arm and suddenly it hurt like heaven. Agony shot through her body as she felt the creatures fangs dig hard into the skin of her neck. Her heart beat rushed blood up to the monsters waiting lips and strange waves of pleasure robbed her mind of sense.

She was dying.

And then there was light.

"By Helm's Glorious Light! I rebuke you! I cast you out demoness!" Through the cloud of passion, Serilde heard her fathers voice and felt a warmth around her like the light of the noon day sun. There was a hissing sound, a terrible dry scream and dust settled on the ground around her.

*********


"Is she strong enough for the journy?"

Falceon shook his head and looked solemly to the younger priest who stood waiting for his answer. "I cannot say. She will have to be."

"What wrong did she commite that she's been put under gaes?"

The old man sighed and looked up from his armor polishing. "None save to brake her own heart. This is not about law and dictate brother. This quest is for her and her alone. Helm will be with her, but it is not his forgivness she seeks."

The young priest looked bewildered as he watched Serilde walk twords the doors of the great temple, her long tresses now flow out behind her as a silver fount, robbed of color in her attack. "If not Helm's.. Who's?"

Flaceon sighed. "Her own."

"Where will she go?"

"I do not know, and we will never ask her. When she returns home, we will celebrate and put the rest behind us. Do you understand?"

"What if she doesn't..."

The elder priest waves a hand. "I didn't say if, I said when. She is stronger in light then half the holy men I've ever met in my whole life put together. She just needs to find it again. She will return, and I will welcome my daughter."

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