Welcome to my weird world.
- Created By Vellatra
Heart of Poison - An Edgy Jaina Story
Rajaion has been gone from Goldoa for awhile... too long for Ena's tastes. So she goes to find him....
“It's easy, really,” Lehran had told me all those years ago.
I was young then, and curious. I wanted to know everything there was to know, just for the joy of it. I never thought I'd need this. Thank goodness I'd asked him. “How do you do it?”
“You just reach out with your feelings,” he'd said. “Think about the person you want to connect with. Imagine their face, their voice, their impressions on you. Close your eyes if it helps you focus. If they're receptive, they might even notice your attention. If not... you'll still be able to feel how they're doing, or at least where they are. That was useful during the war.”
“I'll try it on you,” I'd said.
“No, don't,” Lehran had said quickly. “I've been numbed to telepathy; our connection wouldn't be very interesting. Try... Kurthnaga.”
So I had. He'd been pretty close when I reached out to him, and he noticed me right away. He'd come toddling into the room toward me, opening his arms for a hug....
Now, I was glad I'd pestered Lehran for that skill. I closed my eyes and thought hard. I imagined a face wreathed in dark hair. I tried to remember the things that went with that face – the big hands winding gently around me, the deep, soft voice murmuring my name, the warm, playful fire dancing in his eyes....
I gasped and jumped to my feet. Rajaion was in trouble. He was so afraid, he hadn't even noticed me. I had to get to him, and quick.
It was late in the night before I found the place. Based on the old maps from the castle library, I was probably someplace in Daein. This particular place was a rundown, abandoned-looking castle in the middle of nowhere. There wasn't even a sentinel posted.
I made my way inside, through twisting passages, deeper and deeper down into the earth. Finally, in an open, dank, badly lit lower level of the dungeon, I found him. His clothes were torn, his face was bruised, and his arms were chained to the wall.
“Rajaion!” I gasped.
His head, which had been drooping onto his chest, snapped up. “...Ena?!” I hugged him and felt him shiver. “H-how did you get here?”
“I'll tell you later; we have to get you out!” I said. “Can you shift?”
“No,” said Rajaion. “The chains hurt my wrists.”
I shifted and broke him free from the wall. “Come on,” I said when I reverted. “The castle's deserted; I can fly you out.” He took my hand and followed me back toward the entrance. “Who did this to you?”
“Ashnard,” he whispered. “That guy's worse than crazy. He's hurting Almedha... threatening her son... it's wretched. He caught me before I could get to them. I don't know what he wanted to do with me.”
“Maybe it's better we don't find out,” I said. I glanced back as he let go of my hand. “What is it?”
He backed up and leaned against a wall. “Ow... head rush.”
“Are you okay? ...How long were you down there?”
“Just a couple of days... I think....” He shook his head, straightened up, and kept following me. “Hard to tell when they don't feed you.”
“That fiend,” I said. “When your father finds out – oh! What's wrong? Another head rush?”
“Aghhh,” said Rajaion, who had dropped on one knee, clutching his head. “Stupid headache... came on so fast....”
“Come on, we have to go before someone notices us,” I said. I helped him back to his feet, propped him up on my shoulder, and moved on. “This is good enough,” I said when we came out into a courtyard. “I'll shift and you can climb on my back, alright? What's going on? I thought you said it was just a headache!” I said as he sank to the ground again, groaning.
“It... kills....” A telltale green haze began to form around him.
“You said your chains won't let you-”
Rajaion shifted, roaring in pain as the shackles dug into his scales.
“What are you doing? Stop it! You're hurting yourself!”
He reverted, but he stayed on all fours, panting and shaking. His wrists were bleeding. The green haze stuck around, which it wasn't supposed to do.
I dropped to the ground next to him and grabbed his shoulders. “What's the matter with you?”
He leaned his clammy head against me. “I don't... know,” he gasped. “D...didn't want to do that.”
“You didn't want to shift? That doesn't make sense.”
“Hrrgh!” Rajaion lifted his head and shifted again. The chains split open this time, but not before they left another set of cuts. He reverted and crashed to the ground. I pulled his head into my lap. He looked up at me, but his eyes seemed a little glazed.
“...Ena,” he whimpered, “...am I dying?”
That wasn't what I'd wanted to hear. “I don't know,” I whispered. “We've got to get you out of here. Come on...” I shifted, picked him up – he groaned – and spread my wings. Suddenly I was forced to drop him as he transformed again. He thrashed about, knocking dents in several walls as he struggled against we knew not what. I sprang out of the way of one of his flailing limbs, but another caught my leg and raked across it. We both reverted. My leg gave out and I dropped at his side. He looked up.
“Are you... okay?”
“Never mind me, are you feeling better?”
He curled in on himself. “No. St-stay clear. Don't... get hurt....”
“Hush, dear. I'll figure this out.” I took his face in my hands, looked into his eyes, and tried to connect with his mind. What was wrong with him?
I blinked and broke it off. Something was attacking him. Attacking his mind, with ferocity that made him writhe. He was losing control – of his powers, of his memories, even of language – as whatever-it-was forced its way into him.
“No!” I cried. “Stay with me. Look at me. You can fight this. Come on....”
Rajaion dropped his head against me and screamed as he shifted again. I was holding his head still, but the rest of him coiled and tossed every which way.
“Shh,” I whispered, leaning my forehead against his. Think, think! “...Do you remember that night,” I said softly as he reverted, “that night when you tried to kiss me, but you got Kurth's hand instead?” He was still twisting miserably, but he gave a slight nod. “I'd had a crush on you for a long time already, but... well, I couldn't tell you. I was all nervous and hesitant, but you treated our love like the most natural thing in the world. You were so c-confident,” I stuttered as he transformed. That old confidence was gone now, gone in the wretched forgetfulness that was consuming him, faster and faster. I couldn't hold it back. “Rajaion,” I whimpered, “d-don't leave me... please....”
He jerked his head out of my hands, and reared up with a deafening roar. He brought his claws down on several old barrels, then raked them across the flagstones as he blew a burst of flames at one of the towers. It came crashing down immediately, and would have crushed me if I hadn't scurried out of the way.
“Rajaion!” I shrieked, and found I was crying too. “Stop, stop, just stop....”
When he reverted, he was standing up, and he backed away from me, shrinking into a corner. I came after him.
“Sounds like he's in the courtyard,” a voice called from near the front gate.
“Excellent. Take him, but be careful when you get close.”
“We have to go before someone finds us.” I slowly, cautiously reached a hand out to him. “Please... come back to me....” He recoiled, staring at me with wild, teary eyes. I made to take hold of him, but he shifted, sprang over me, and rushed out of the courtyard. I hugged the shadows as the Daein soldiers went after him.
Ghosts of Goldoa Past
Prince Kurthnaga of Goldoa describes life in the castle during Path of Radiance, before he meets Ike and crew.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
The old clock in the hallway went on the way it always had. It had been there since before I could remember, probably before I was born, really. It was wound and dusted every Tuesday, but the rest of the week it sat undisturbed, tick, tick, ticking the hours, the weeks, the years away. Oftentimes it was the only noise in the whole castle.
Things never used to be that way.
There was a window next to the clock, looking out over the garden. My sister had broken that window once. It was on the third floor, but somehow she'd still kicked a ball through it from the outside. She was always so much stronger than she looked. The window – repaired now – was still here, and so was the ball, but my sister was long gone. Sometimes, I'd lie awake at night trying to remember what her voice even sounded like. It had been so long now....
She wasn't the only one missing. Every morning when I had my tea, I'd reach into the mug cupboard and bump against my brother's cup. It had a chip in it from when he'd given a rousing toast and I'd over-enthusiastically knocked mine against it. He'd just laughed and said what a stout fellow I'd turn out to be. I missed that laugh.
The other thing I always saw while I drank my tea was the corner of the tablecloth, where I'd sneezed and burnt a hole in it. My brother's childhood sweetheart was babysitting me, and she fixed it by embroidering little flowers over the burn. She was such a kind soul – probably would've adopted me if she wasn't a kid herself. Before I'd almost wished she would stop mother-henning me all the time, but now I longed for that gentle touch, that patient ear, that beautiful smile that lit up her face every time she saw my brother....
“Do you ever feel... empty?” I asked one morning as I was looking at the tablecloth.
“Do you mean hungry?” said Gareth.
“No, just... empty,” I said. “Like there ought to be more sound, more movement... more people here?”
“There ought to,” said Gareth.
“And have you ever noticed how nothing really happens anymore?” I asked. “And I feel so... lonely.”
Gareth sighed and shrugged. “Not much we can do, I'm afraid.”
I'd walk the halls surrounded by the shadows of everyone who used to live here. Here was my mother's second-best harmonica on a shelf. I couldn't remember her – she had died when I was a baby – but I'd heard from my siblings that she was kind, beautiful, and the greatest musician this side of the desert. I wondered what hearing her songs would've been like.
There was the old notebook that kept record of how much gambling money Gareth owed. He never placed bets anymore; there was nobody to do it with. The usual suspect had been gone for years now. We didn't know when – or even if – he would ever come back.
Out in the garden there was a willow tree, its long, slender branches swaying in the breeze and trailing on the ground. I remembered watching my uncle planting the seed for that tree, when I was very small. He'd even let me help water it – at least, he'd let me grab the handle on the watering can, but looking back I probably didn't do much lifting. My uncle had been gone almost as long as my mother – just packed up and left one day. I never knew why, but I'd always wondered where he'd gone, what he was doing now, whether he'd ever come back to check on his tree, or to visit us. I missed his big, sad eyes and his soft voice. He'd told such good stories, but I was so small then, I could barely remember them now. Once, I'd asked my father if we could ever expect a visit from him, but my father had given a deep sigh and told me not to mention his brother again. Nobody ever told me why they didn't get along anymore. I think my sister knew, but she kept it to herself. Now it was too late to ask her.
Here was the big pond where I'd eavesdropped on my brother when he'd proposed to his sweetheart. They had me with them, but I'd dozed off in my brother's lap and they thought I wasn't listening. They were so excited that night – far too young to really marry, but swearing they would when they could. They'd only just been wed when my brother left... hardly had any time to enjoy their new life, before it changed again. Now they were both gone; nobody knew when we'd see them again.
Sometimes everything was so quiet, so still, so... so dead... that I wanted to scream. But that would never do; my father was not to be disturbed. Who knew what he did all day in his office, but it didn't seem uplifting. He would come to dinner looking sad and tired, and he never talked much. That was a shame – all I wanted was a friend. If it weren't for Gareth, I think I might've lost my marbles in this place, with nothing to do and no one to share my secrets with. If I had any, that is.
It was during these horribly lonely times that I saw the shipwreck on the beach....
