Tales of Blackwood: Haebang

• Posted by Lazy October 23, 2014 - 896 views

  Rain, thunder and lightning. That was all she saw from the window of her reclusive tower at the equally reclusive keep of her family. As much as she welcomed the solitude of the tower, she despised being confined here by the demons she was supposed to call ‘her parents’. Belyane, or as she was called in the family ‘The Forsaken’, was the last child out of 17 others, as well as the black sheep of the family. They all hated her for many reasons. One, she lacked the confidence or the bravado the other 17 had, which was shunned in this family of noble Mer. Two, she was physically frail and couldn’t dish out or take many hits before collapsing in exhaustion. She is of the scholar type, preferring to sit down and exercise her mind peacefully. Third, and most importantly, her skin is slightly less pale than that of her kin, closely resembling that of a Nord or Breton instead of a Falmer, as well as her hair. As opposed to the natural ivory of her ‘family’, Belyane’s hair is a raven’s black. No one can say for sure why she was born like that, but whatever the cause, that was what cemented her into such a despicable status. She has experience mockery, beatings, and torture during her 12 years of life, but despite all that, she has withstood and though she has a body of glass, deep down lies a will stronger than steel, a burning vengeance towards all that have treated her like trash. Yes, one day, she will have her revenge. She will see to it personally that there will be nothing left of her family but ashes and blood. The mere thought of it brought her joy, and she could already picture it. Her flames torching ‘dearest mother and father’, melting off flesh from bone, her blade spilling the blood of those accursed siblings, their normally haughty faces beset with horror as it lodges into their prim and proper bodies and slicing off their appendages, their mouths spe-

  *knock* *knock* The soft knocking on the door brought her back to the bitter reality, followed by the lulling voice of a caring Nord maid. “Lady Belyane? It’s time for dinner. Everyone’s waiting for you downstairs.” She sighed in relief, knowing that it was Nala, literally the only person in the keep who cared about her, behind the door. Her relief, however, was cut short as doubt beset her. Why would they bother to call me to dinner? They usually had Nala bring it up, which not even that she can trust fully as it was not uncommon that her food was laced with poison, sickening her for a day but not quite killing her. Curious, she got up from her seat by the window and walked to the door, opening it, Nala’s figure greeted her as she did.

  “If you’re asking, there’s an important visitor and the master said he’s looking for you, milady…” she muttered meekly as if reading Belyane’s mind. She began thinking about this closely, considering all possible outcomes. In the end, she agreed. “Take me to wherever they’re waiting for me.” She said to the maid. Looking slightly relieved, she took the Forsaken’s hand and led her downstairs, chatting lightly as they walked. They passed by dark and lonesome halls, illuminated only by dim magelights planted on the ceilings, paintings of her father in many different poses, most of which made her gag. They eventually reached a wooden double-door. Laughter, boisterous talking and other sounds of merriment reached her ears from behind it.

  “What’s going on in there?” she asked Nala and all she did was shrug.

  “I don’t know. They just asked me to come get you.” Her answer was satisfying enough for Belyane. The maid then put her hands on the handle and turned to Belyane, her free hand going into her pocket and snagged out a shiv. The Falmer’s eyes widened.

  “I have a bad feeling you might need this, in case everything goes awry.” She whispered to the Falmer while handing her the crude weapon.

  “Now, are you ready, milady?” Putting the shiv in her own pocket and mustering all her courage, The Forsaken nodded, prompting the Nord to push open the doors. It revealed a vast dining room with a long and fancy dining table at the center, nineteen chairs laterally dotting it and one lonesome chair at the far end of the table usually reserved for her. At the chairs were the family she was used to seeing, her parents sitting close to each other at one end of the table and the despicable seventeen occupying the rest. There was, however, an unfamiliar face seated at her ‘special’ chair. It was a Nord, his hardy face and blond hair made sure of that, clad in elegant black clothes. At the man’s side were two guards, one burly and short, the other tall and thin, both clad in matching black armor and macabre masks on their faces. The thing that caught her eye the most was the grim scars on the man’s face. Two large gashes criss-crossing his face, making a picturesque ‘X’.  The Forsaken had no idea who he was, but something deep down told her that she’d better off not knowing. Even though the two have already entered the room, they were caught up laughing and listening to what the peculiar man had to say.

  “And so I grabbed the sabrecat’s tongue as it came down to bite me, hoisted the bloody thing up and threw it at the troll!” Thunderous guffaws at the man’s jest. Belyane failed to see the humor behind that absurd sentence, but Nala stifled a snicker, trying to keep a serious face and failing.

  “Ah, but that’s not all! The troll came back to its feet and I charged at it while waving my large-“He stopped mid-sentence and his gaze fell on me, a wolfish grin besetting his scarred face. “Well this must be the beautiful eighteenth I’ve heard nothing about.” Everyone turned their heads to face her, looks of spite on their noble faces. Her father stood up and beckoned Belyane to come to him. Hesitantly, she walked towards the patriarch.

  “Keep your mouth shut and do as the man says or you can kiss your sorry life goodbye.” He muttered to the Forsaken, his face straight but his tone malevolent and cold. He then turned to the scarred Nord, his lips. smiling brightly. “Yes, my good man. This is Belyane, the bast-uh, unsung eighteenth of the family.” The man approached her and crouched down, coming a little too close for comfort. He put his hand on Belyane’s chin, tilting her head back and forth, examining every inch of her. A gruff laugh escaped his lips.

  “Oh, Brenuin’s going to like you, lass. You’ll be a fine addition to the whorehouse.” Panic welled up inside her. They’re going to sell me. Belyane has never seen a brothel in her life, but she knew all too well of the horrors of it. Nala had been trapped in one herself in the past, and it was not uncommon that she would trade experiences with Belyane on sleepless nights. As she turned her head slightly, she could see the maid crying at a distance, her hands covering her mouth. No. I will not let this be she exclaimed in her mind. She’d rather die than suffer in a brothel, reduced to a mere plaything for sick-minded monsters. But then, it hit her. The shiv. She stealthily slid her into her pocket, gripping the shiv tightly, poised for a sudden attack. The Forsaken will not die for the sake of her freedom. He will.

  “Oh, yes, all the things me and the boys could do to you.” She let him talk; let him have his way as a sort of final honor. “You will love it when playtime comes and all the people come in and take you for their own, one by one. Toying with you, loving you, pouring all their pent-up lust on your body.” She heard Nala’s sobbing getting louder, and couldn’t take it anymore.  “Yes, all that is in your future, you mischievous, naughty little-“He couldn’t finish his sentence as Belyane drove her shiv into his bare throat. He remained still for a moment, blood pouring from the wound on her neck and made its way down into her hand, still gripping it tightly. Then, she let go and the man fell down like a log into the cold marble floor.

  For a moment, the sound of nothing filled the room. Everyone, even Belyane was too shocked to do anything. Even the rain seemed to stop crashing down. Then, the void was replaced with chaotic cacophony. First, her mother’s shriek broke the silence, bringing everyone back to their senses. The taller of the Nord’s guards rushed to tend to his corpse, while the other pudgier one jumped on the table, kicking all the silverware around and charged at Belyane. Her siblings ran away in fear, which brought a smile to her lips for a moment, but it faded once she saw her father charging at her, knife in hand. The Forsaken’s survival instinct kicked in, and dived out of harm’s way. Her father and the pudgy guard collided as she escaped their grasps. This gave her some breathing room, but her troubles were far from over. There was the matter of the keep guards, who were probably heading here post-haste. Sure enough, more guards, a dozen strong rushed into the dining room from the main door, as if on cue. "Kill her!” her father barked at the guards, still collapsed underneath the pudgy bodyguard, pointing at the Forsaken. The guards sprang into action, drawing their vicious looking weapons and charged at her.

  Belyane was running out of options, and now looking for a way out. Her eyes raced back and forth across the room in a panic. The hallway leading to her tower was just a dead end. They'd corner her eventually. The main exit was not an option. It was like jumping into a lion's den to escape from a snake pit. Her gaze finally landed on a lonesome window with a view of the aspen forest of the Rift and a lake. A leap of faith, the only way out. She thought to herself as she sprinted towards the window. A few guards fired arrows from afar, most missing her but some lodged themselves into her back. It hurt, but the Forsaken didn't care. The prospect of freedom blinded her from the pain. Closer and closer to the window, she closed her eyes and dove through it, putting her arms up to protect her face from any shards of glass. The rest was a blur to her as she fell gracefully into the lake below and, inevitably, into freedom. The falling sensation seemed to slow down time into a crawl. She opened her eyes and couldn't believe what she saw. An expanse of golden aspen trees greeted her, their leaves almost gleaming as the amber light of dawn shone down on everything below it. This almost alien flood of colors brought tears into the Forsaken's eyes, which haven't seen much color other than white, black and grey.

  Time went on and she kept falling, approaching the cold lake below her every second. And finally, her body plunged into the pool of water, a clear blue flooding her. At first, the sheer feeling of being submerged overwhelmed her, paralyzing her body. Then, her body rose up by itself, and she reemerged from the lake, gasping for air. She looked up at the keep, the guards that were on her tail looking down at her, eyes agape in disbelief. Knowing that they'll be fast in pursuit, she swam to shore and ran into the forest. She didn't have the slightest idea where to go or how'd she'd fare in the wide open world, but she didn't care. She was soaring on freedom's wings and she would relish every second of it. She would no longer let her fate be molded by others. No, her destiny would be of her own shaping, and no matter of noble, king or god could change that. She was the Forsaken and she would never yield to any who would dare stand in her way. And as she ran, she smiled. In spite of everything, all that's she's been through, all the thoughts of what she would go through, she smiled.