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@irishcelticredflowercrown

Sorry for the dead silence after your post… I was um *coughs* mourning Qatar’s death. *cough cough*

Anyways, I will totally be praying about your situation and I hope it gets better. I can definitely understand the feelings of stress and pain and general misery… Please remember that we’re always here for you!

Also, that dialogue you just had with Lorcan there just made my entire day. XD

@emily-waldorf

I am literally still in shock. I think I’m going to faint or something. And this happened three or four hours ago.

WHAT ON EARTH JUST HAPPENED????????

Besides, how else would Niarok get the chance to see ‘the noble man he could be’ if he’s running around being a jerk the whole time?

BY BEING NIAROK AND SEEING THINGS LIKE THAT EVEN WHEN PEOPLE ARE AT THEIR WORST BECAUSE THAT’S HIS CHARACTER! GAH you’ve ruined me. XD

I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been this mad over a character death…

Guess it’s different when you have been through blood and sweat with them and then they just… get speared in front of you.

*punches a hole in the wall and cries*

Okay, moving on. XD

 

I apologize in advance – this is going to be long. (I know, I know, you’re saying. Denali, your posts are always painfully long… XD)

Niarok

Niarok was going to tear this castle apart. He was done. He was sick of this. And he’d never felt this powerless in his whole life.

And this was the worst thing the castle had done to them yet.

Although so far this challenge as probably doing the exact opposite of what the castle had intended – Niarok’s faith in his companions had just risen about ten notches higher.

He hadn’t expected Aydin to voluntarily sacrifice himself to Yila, although Niarok had known from the start that he was a whole lot braver than he gave himself credit for.

And then there was Yila. That was the most control he’d seen her exhibit in years. She was getting stronger, and pride burned in his chest for her.

“Let’s see if we can do better this time. Evelyn!”

Evie snapped to attention, her hand gripping a dagger that she clearly knew how to use. Niarok didn’t know her, but she seemed to have a noble heart buried somewhere beneath the depths of her apparent survivalism.

“What do you want?” she barked. “And who are you?”

“I, my sweet, am Lord Castle. And I want you to shed a considerable amount of blood on one of these people.”

Niarok resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands. Now the Castle was going too far.

She’s been here for a grand total of twenty minutes, you scoundrel! Give her a break!

“Or what?” Evie hissed, eyes undaunted. She’d clearly heard threats before.

“Or I’ll have to resort to a whip,” the Castle stated, its voice dropping a level or two.

Evie’s eyes went wide and her face paled multiple shades. She clutched the wall behind her, breathing hard. Sweat beaded on her forehead.

Niarok started to grab her elbow so she wouldn’t fall but then realized that touching her might cause her to lose herself more. He’d talk to her about it when she wasn’t in the throes of a panic attack.

The fear dissipated quickly, as if she’d shoved it away by brute force. Niarok wondered how long it had taken her to master that skill. He still could only do it half the time and Yila had never been able to. Ever.

“See? I’m sure you’d rather not suffer that again,” the Castle murmured, its metallic voice seductive. Niarok’s stomach curled.

Evie’s gaze darted around the room, her brown eyes indecisive and angry and fearful.

Screw caution.

Niarok gripped her shoulder. She turned towards him, and he was struck by the depth in her eyes. She’d understand.

He held out his right arm, trying to communicate that it was okay. She could slash him.

“I-I can’t hurt you,” she finally whispered, looking away.

“The alternative is worse. I’m a healer. I’ll live.” Niarok replied, keeping his voice low.

She stared hard at him, glanced at her dagger, and then cut his skin with a concerning amount of efficiency.

The wound stung, but he’d experienced so much worse in the past that he barely felt it.

He turned away and pulled a cloth from his backpack which he wrapped around the wound. He’d treat it properly when this was all over.

The castle was onto threatening Quin. Bile rose in Niarok’s throat. He was just a boy. This was downright evil.

The Castle must have been communicating telepathically because although Quin was mumbling words, the Castle’s voice could not be heard.

A knife appeared in Quin’s hand as he stood in front of Qatar, and Niarok tensed.

No.

Quin slashed Qatar’s upper thigh. It was a deep wound, but not nearly so deep as the one Niarok saw tear open in Qatar’s eyes.

“Little brother!” he cried, anger and hurt taut in his voice. “You miserable little beast. I was willing to call it an accident. Willing to say it wasn’t your fault. But all along I knew it was.”

His voice rose, and Niarok shut his eyes. Blood he could handle. Death he could deal with. But families torn apart? That was too much. Siblings estranged from each other because of an evil castle? Niarok thought he was either going to throw up or attack something.

“I knew it was just because you were a little coward. Yellow-livered, running from danger like a dog with it’s tail tucked.” Qatar shouted. Quin sobbed on the floor. To be called a murderer was one thing. To be called a coward was somehow far worse.

“Do something about it,” the Castle whispered.

Niarok’s heart leapt into his throat.

No. Don’t.

Qatar reached down, almost as if he were in a dream. “I didn’t even know you carried this, little brother.”

But instead of hurting Quin, he threw the knife to the side. “Knives are for rope and leather, not people.”

Niarok relaxed.

But then a spire of rock appeared out of nowhere. It was shaped like a spear, sharp and extremely deadly. “You’ve never checked your anger before. Let it go now,” the Castle goaded.

Qatar tensed but didn’t move.

“You all have so many objections to pain and death. I have none.”

The spear was dangerously close to Qatar’s heart.

Qatar glanced between Quin and the spear, and Niarok pleaded with him, begged him not to do it.

The Castle wouldn’t kill him, would it?

“Come one, Miller. One little slap. I’m not even asking you to kill him.”

The spear drew back an inch.

Qatar drew his hand back. The spear began to lower.

“Coward,” he hissed, his hand clenched into a fist.

The spear lowered.

Qatar pushed himself to his feet. His hand fell to his side.

“No.”

The spear slammed into Qatar’s chest with all the force of ten horses.

Niarok choked.

“Qatar!” he cried.

Klein leapt forward and caught the man’s falling body, lowering him gently to the floor as blood poured out of the mortal wound. Niarok stood frozen.

There was nothing he could do. He’d only felt this way once, when his father died. The only difference was then there was a place to run and a person to run from.

Here, they were trapped.

And this thing had just proven it was willing to kill them if they didn’t comply.

He lowered his eyes and whispered a blessing for Qatar’s soul.

Klein stood from beside Qatar’s still body. “My religious belief teaches me to feel as safe in battle as in bed. God has fixed the time for my death. I do not concern myself about that, but to be always ready, no matter when it may overtake me. That is the way all men should live, and then all would be equally brave.”

Niarok glanced at him and lowered his eyes once again. Though he and Klein were from such different worlds, at least that united them.

“Hey Rúan. Hit me in the nose,” Klein said.

Niarok smiled without joy. Life went on.

He turned away, dreading the moment when the castle forced him into this situation. The last thing he would do was hurt someone, but he dreaded the consequences even so.

Evie stood beside the wall, hand clamped over her mouth and brown eyes wide.

Niarok touched her shoulder, and she jumped, shook herself, and looked at him.

“Has it done this before?” she whispered.

Niarok hesitated, his mind replaying that terrible, shocking, horrifying moment.

“No.”

Evie looked away, bit her lip, and looked back at him. “Then what do we do?”

“I don’t know,” Niarok murmured, tears welling at the corner of his eyes.

He felt so helpless.

Evie lowered her gaze, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Me neither.”

Niarok stared at the horrible pool of blood on the cave floor and sighed.

“I better go clean that up,” he said.

Evie nodded. “I think I’ll help.”