The TwiceBorn

Rolling The Bones

"Don't you know there ain't no devil? It's only God when he's drunk."--Waits

The darkness moved and shifted about her, more of a dark whirlwind than a calming shade. The shadows moved like something alive and Alora was kept from being immersed in it by shards of silver, like milky glass.

The silver winked and scurried, darting from shadow to shadow,and Alora felt the fragments beneath her skin like rippling pebbles. They dashed here and there,like minnows in shallow water, then paused, as they left behind trails of disappointment and rage.

Alora opened her eyes and saw Yzebel still standing beside her. The crone's fist still rested against her side, enabling the hag to move her mind easily through Alora's, and look about. Peek around corners, and stick her nose where it didn't belong. But it wasn't as random as it all appeared. Alora knew what she was looking for.

Alain's sins

The old bitch wanted to pry and see if there was a way to salvage anything for Bune. And Alora knew she was too weak to keep the crone locked out. A small, broken sound bled from her lips as she felt Yzebel moving busily through her mind.

Pain... red and yellow...

...red and yellow snaking its way through her being. Moving sluggishly through her body and pulsing in time to the rhythm of her heart.

It lay dormant in places, no movement at all as it wrapped itself tight around her organs and dripped with the green haze of infection. Yet there were flashes of frosted white...small darting points of silver briskly inspecting...and checking...all of this before moving on.

Red and yellow deepening and running into black. Small dots of broken red lacing the area but the black was heavy and clotted with rot and fever. The pain was enormous, sharp as cut glass on the surface and beneath...deep into the broken and splintered bone...was an ache so unrelenting it re-defined the word pain...

Alora had never felt anything like it. It flooded her and was so strong she was afraid to take a breath for fear it would overwhelm her and drive her mad. And beneath it...that fluttering sensation...something crawling...searching...seeking...

Alora's hand trembled and stuttered its way down her side. She couldn't keep the hag out. She was simply in too much pain and too weak to keep the bitch from taking what she wanted but what she could do...

...her hand found Yzebel's and caught it, holding it tight...

...was pull her in...

Yzebel knew as soon as Alora tightened her grip and pressed both of their hands against the bulky bandage. Alora watched her through a haze of pain as the crone stilled. Yzebel's eyes widened almost comically and a snarl erupted out of her throat.

Alora's lips pulled back in a small and terrible smile. She dug deep for the strength she needed then pushed what pain she could up and out. It wasn't much; she was simply too weak. She felt like a small child trying to push some large and unmovable object through knee-deep mud.

But it was enough. Yzebel danced and shuddered as though she'd been stroked by lightning.

"Let me go!" She screamed. Alora heard an audible snap as the crone's jaw constricted and some of her teeth shattered from the force. The pain was white-hot and in her mind's eye, Alora watched it as it sped its way up and down Yzebel's withered frame with a boisterous glee.

The silver of the old hag's eyes snapped and an unearthly mewl bled from her lips. Her struggles became frantic. She bucked and pulled and Alora's smile grew wider. Much more and the old bitch's bones would dissolve into dust.