Nemesis Options

[Jacki Dice]

This is a little something I've been toying with for awhile. I've decided to bring it out to the forums here. This story will include the original version of Kalila Blackstone, from Madness Helps me Save Myself. This version of her has absolutely no ties to the one borrowed in the story.

Speaking of, Madness Helps me Save Myself will continue as planned. Sometimes working on something separate for a while soothes my writer's block.

~~~~~♦~~~~~

1

“That which is done out of love always takes place beyond good and evil.�
--Friedrich Nietzsche

In a perfect world, it would have been an assassin. Or maybe a bandit. It would be someone who was out to hurt her, who justifiably deserved to die. However, as Tara Karminova clutched her dagger to her chest, she knew it would be no such person. The world was too imperfect.

She looked around the dark alleys of the Imperial City Market District for someone no one would miss. Guilt weighed in her heart for even thinking that. Did someone’s life have less value just because they had no one to miss them? Of course not. But, she needed someone whose death wouldn’t prompt a thorough investigation. Maybe a skooma addict.

Oh, dear gods, what am I doing? She leaned against the wall of one of the shops. Her heart was no longer fluttering and her stomach no longer churned. Instead, she seemed to simply accept it. That was what scared her. “It’s for Clarissa,� she reminded herself. “It’s for her.� She clenched the grip of her dagger tightly and continued lurking through the alleys.

At first she thought she had blended in quite well with the street urchins in the Imperial City. She simply threw on an old, dirty robe that had torn a little on the bottom. Her brown hair was unbrushed and thrown back in a messy bun. Once she saw the beggars in person, however, she realized how far off she was. Their clothes weren’t just dirty, they were barely intact enough to keep them out of prison for indecent exposure. None of them wore the soft cotton that she was in. They appeared to be stitched together from odd pieces of fabric and sackcloth. Tara was also far too healthy looking. Her cheeks were somewhat plump and the robe hugged her frame tightly, revealing that she didn’t often go hungry. The beggars were nothing but skin and bones. The biggest difference was their eyes. Tara could easily tell who had lived on the street by the hardness or loss of hope in their eyes. There was no way for her to imitate them in that way.

She turned behind the Copious Coinpurse into a small garden. It was empty save for a young woman sleeping on the ground. Tara crept toward her, running her finger over the black soul gem stashed in her pocket. It would have been much easier to cast some sort of spell on her, but Tara thought a stabbing would look far more ordinary than magic.

The girl stirred slightly as Tara approached. Tara straddled her and turned her on her back. She was pretty. She had quite a young face. She was probably no more than nineteen. Tara hesitated for a moment before raising her hand. A violet flash erupted from her fist and washed over the girl. Once that was done she took out the dagger and plunged it into the girl.

The girl opened her eyes wide as blood oozed onto Tara. A scream rose from her throat and Tara quickly covered the girl’s mouth with her free hand, stabbing again and again until the girl stopped moving. She wished she had known where to plunge for a more painless and instant death. That part of her research had been overlooked. Tara took out the soul gem and was satisfied with the glow of the girl’s soul.

She got up and panted, staring at the girl’s body. Did she have parents? A sister? Probably not, since she had been sleeping there alone. Still, Tara was overcome with mixed emotions.

“It’s for Clarissa,� she said to herself.



Tara had to hold in her disgust as she stared upon Clarissa’s corpse.

Three years had passed since Clarissa Blackstone’s murder and time had not been kind. Clarissa’s skin was gone for the most part, only remaining in small patches. On the pieces of skin around her temples, sat dry tufts of her once luxurious black hair, though the slightest brush would turn it to dust. Her bones were not white, like the models shown at the Arcane University. Instead they were a filthy brown. The sockets that once held beautiful grey eyes were now empty and covered by a paper thin layer of skin. The gown she had been buried in had long since been eaten away. Though she went out and bought a new robe, Tara did not look forward to redressing her. Logically that shouldn’t have bothered her any more than digging Clarissa up or even setting her body on the kitchen table.

Tara wanted to pass the time doing something other than staring at Clarissa, but she was unable to take her eyes off of her. She was repulsed but fascinated at the same time. When she finally tore her eyes away, she decided to head into the basement to distract herself.

Just yesterday, the basement was full of alchemical equipment. The shelves had been lined with empty bottles and crates full of filled ones ready to be sent off to the different Mages Guild halls. Jars of ingredients sat along the windows. Now it was empty. The windows were boarded. A metal collar attached to a long chain sat in the center of the room. Tara picked it up and tugged it with all her strength. It held fast to the wall. She sighed deeply and dusted off her hands. Hopefully it would withstand the added strength of the undead.

She took a broom from a corner and started sweeping. Clarissa still deserves cleanliness, she thought. But the basement was usually kept neat and there was nothing much to sweep. She finished in seconds. She looked at the Mages Guild banners still hanging on the walls. Her eyes welled up with tears. How could she still keep those up knowing what she was going to do? How could she ever look at Arch-Mage Traven in the eye again?

With a trembling hand, she took the banners down. She tried telling herself that it was to keep them from getting ruined, but deep down she knew it was because she felt unworthy.

When she returned upstairs she was pleased to see that the hourglass was nearly empty. It was time.

For something so complex, it was strange that it was so simple to accomplish. She had imagined an elaborate ritual involving candles and conjuring. Strangely, the hardest part had been obtaining the soul gem. That and getting the soul. She closed her eyes, forcing away the image of the girl she had killed. She couldn’t afford to think about it. All spells, complex or not, required confidence and concentration.

Her home along the Lake Rumare was close enough to hear the temple bell from the Imperial City. As it rang twelve times, Tara placed the soul gem directly over where Clarissa’s heart had been. She focused on the soul inside, transferring it the way she would to an item.

The soul was stubborn. Even in death, it resisted Tara’s demand, almost as if it knew that it would cease to exist as itself. Tara trembled violently. Her heart pounded hard and she broke into a sweat. The soul would cooperate. It had no choice.

Tara grunted hard when the soul finally entered Clarissa. She panted heavily as the gem crumbled into dust, falling into Clarissa’s bare rib cage.

Clarissa’s eyelids fluttered. She sat up, turning her face toward Tara. Though the sockets were empty, she could feel the intense stare going straight through her. Tara backed up instantly. Would Clarissa remember? Or would she react with hostility? Clarissa opened her mouth, though the only sound that escaped was a dry crackle. Her body wouldn’t return to a normal living being until she received more souls.

“Clarissa,� Tara whispered. “Do you remember me?� She took a step forward. “I’m your sister.�

Clarissa tilted her head back and forth. A chunk of skin plopped on the floor causing a surge of bile to rise in Tara’s throat. She swallowed it back down and forced herself to ignore it.

“Everything is okay now,� she said. “You’re back home now.�

She held out her hand. Clarissa ignored it, seeming to be more confused than anything.

“She’s just in shock,� Tara said to herself. She glanced at the robe. She decided to put it on her when she had more skin as there was nothing really to cover.

She led Clarissa into the basement and locked the collar around her neck. “This is just to keep you safe. When you’re back to normal you can have your old room back. I’ll even get you into the Arcane University like you always wanted.� She sighed, not knowing why she said that. That wouldn’t be possible. Everyone knew that Clarissa had been dead a long time.

Clarissa crackled again, though Tara doubted that she understood anything she had been saying anyway. No need to feel like a liar, right? she wondered. “I’m going to go clean upstairs and then I’ll have to fix up your grave outside. I can’t have it looking like it’s been recently disturbed. I’ll be back soon.�

Once she was back in the living room, she locked the basement door and then placed a plank of wood in front of it. She couldn’t chance Clarissa getting out into the open. She would be killed on sight. Tara couldn’t have that. She refused to lose her twice.

She immediately set out sweeping up the living room and kitchen. There was so much dirt. Too much. Should any guild mates come for a visit, she felt it would cause immediate suspicion. Maybe it was just paranoia, but at the same time, her sudden insistence to work from her home instead of the guild halls already seemed strange. Sure, months had passed since then, the nagging feeling remained stuck in her mind.

Though it had to be done, she couldn’t keep her mind on her task. She felt drained. She sank to her knees staring at the basement door. She could hear Clarissa shuffling faintly, the chain jingling with her every movement. She glanced at the turquoise banner on the wall bearing the Mages Guild symbol. Her life as she knew it was over. She wept.



This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Dec 23 2019, 07:08 AM

[Jacki Dice]

SubRosa~ Thank you~ I was trying to figure out how to explain no teleportation magic. I thought of banning it, but skooma is banned to so...


Grits~ They were all so nice (except M'Raaj-Dar) so I like playing with that aspect. It's not something expected of assassins

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Chapter Fifteen: The Sanctuary

Though Tara reminded her yet again that she had already eaten, Ocheeva piled her plate with several slices of meat and scoops of the mashed potatoes, which Ocheeva said had been cooked with homemade garlic butter. She was a little less smothering with the rolls and salad. At first, Tara was sure that she wouldn’t be able to finish such a heaped plate, but seeing how the meat fell apart so easily into its own gravy helped encourage her hunger.

“Ocheeva is like a big mother hen,” Antoinetta said, giggling a little. “So you may as well get used to this! I wish my own mother had been as doting…”

Tara just nodded and ate as much as she could. Surprisingly, it tasted just like a home cooked meal. In fact, between dinner and Aiden’s cooking, Tara would find it hard to tell the difference. She managed to clean most of her plate, much to Ocheeva’s obvious pleasure. After some chocolate cake, which was shockingly moist, Tara was given the grand tour.

“You’ve seen the dining hall, obviously,” Ocheeva said, leading her into the next room. “This is the common room.”

Judging by the warmth of the dining room, Tara had expected something just as homey. She wasn’t disappointed. There were a few red couches, complete with matching cushions. A black hand was embroidered on each. There were several paintings on the walls. One of Cheydinhal at sunrise, one of an old woman with an otherworldly beauty, one of a meadow of flowers, one of the beach at night.

What really caught Tara’s breath were the lines of bookshelves taking up an entire wall. A plush burgundy armchair and matching footrest sat next to them, along with a few floor cushions. Tara couldn’t help immediately wandering off to inspect the titles.

Ocheeva chuckled softly. “I see we have another bookworm in our midst. Vincente brought a good deal of those along with him when he made the Sanctuary his home.”

Tara could see the age on some of them. It made her almost a little disappointed that she wouldn’t be living there. Imagining what she would find in some of those ancient books made her mind race.

“Next, we have the training room,” Ocheeva said, when Tara rejoined her. “Let’s see…” She paused, looking her over. “Let me see your hands…” She held them up, checking the backs and front. “I’d have to guess that you’re a mage. Am I right?”

Tara nodded. “I mean, I don’t fight really, but I am a mage.” Tara suddenly felt a little vulnerable. It wouldn’t be wise for a toothless lion to reveal his gummy mouth to a bunch of tigers, would it? That thought also was what reminded her not to go bragging about her rank in the Mages Guild. The less they knew about her, the better, right? No matter how nice they seemed, these people were killers for hire and they could destroy her without resorting to murder.

“Not to worry,” Ocheeva said. “In a way, your magic will come in handy. Cast a nice silencer spell and maybe one of paralysis and your victim will be clay in your hands.” She laughed some more. Tara started to feel a little queasy.

“And of course, we’re all here to help in any way we can. That includes M’Raaj-Dar. He’s also a mage, so he might be able to teach you a few tricks.”

Tara doubted that. She’d rather go ask Falcar for help and she’d rather pull a sore tooth from a daedroth than do that!

“And last,” Ocheeva said, entering a hall on the other side of the training room. “Here are the bedrooms.”

The hall was lined with gold tinted glass cradling welkynd stones. A few doors went down to the end. Even the hall had an impossible warmth to it. Her own house was more sinister than the Sanctuary! Tara wasn’t sure if she should be comforted or ashamed.

“There aren’t many rooms, I’m afraid,” Ocheeva said. “Perhaps once one of our neighbors move, we can look into expanding.”

Why not just kill them and take the place? Tara caught herself wondering. She immediately chastised herself for such a dark thought.

She followed Ocheeva to the third door from the end of the hall. Ocheeva unlocked it and stepped aside for Tara to enter. “Luckily Telaendril and Gogron have decided to move in together, so that’s a spare but we may have to start doubling up when we get too many members. Don’t worry, people join us far less frequently than other guilds.”

The room was rather ordinary. It was much smaller than her room back at her home and though there was a beautiful painting of a sunrise over Lake Rumare, it didn’t quite make up for the lack of a window. The full sized bed was at the wall, all made up with soft floral patterned blankets. A sprig of lavender rested on the pillow. A dresser with a large mirror was on the opposite side, next to a bookshelf ready to be filled.

“I don’t want to presume,” Ocheeva said as Tara looked around. “But it doesn’t seem as if you have any…. belongings with you.”

Tara took a breath and turned to face her. “Well, I never planned on staying.” When she saw a slight change in Ocheeva’s eyes, she quickly added, “It’s all very lovely. I never would have imagined it this way, but I can’t live here. I have someone at home to care for.”

“A child?”

“Yes. I mean, not mine. She’s my sister. It’s very complicated. You have no… She’s the entire reason I…. I mean, I couldn’t just leave her.” She stopped, realizing that she was rambling and with every word making things more cluttered than they had to be.

“That’s a shame,” Ocheeva said. “It’s a lot easier when you’re close by. Would it be possible to move to Cheydinhal? You could stay with her as needed and still come here.”

Tara shook her head. “She’s not…. well. She isn’t in any condition to travel.”

“What about your parents? Couldn’t they care for her?”

“Our mother is out of the country on business and I do not know who my father is.” Tara didn’t feel the need to disclose that they had different fathers. “Besides, she needs very specific treatment. I’m the only one who can help. I’m sorry, Ocheeva, but I need to be with her.”

Ocheeva nodded. “I see. At least stay the night. It’s late and a pretty girl like you shouldn’t travel alone at night. In the morning, we can get you measured for a suit and maybe we can get you started with shade repressing spells.”

As always, the talk of magic made her ears perk a little. “Shade repressing?”

“Well, in case you… ah… well, you don’t make it back from a mission, we need to ensure that in the event that your shade is summoned, you don’t inadvertently reveal any secrets. It’s standard procedure. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. We can also go over the logistics of jobs and payment. Goodnight, sister.” With that, Ocheeva nodded and closed the door.

Tara looked around the room once more before sighing deeply. She came to Cheydinhal expecting to be hip deep in a nest of bloodthirsty people only a slight bit more civilized than the average goblin. To be welcomed so warmly felt so surreal. Thinking about it as she undressed and slipped under the blankets, these people seemed more familial than the Mages Guild. She almost wished she could bring Clarissa. There was already one walking skeleton about, so another might not be so bad…

But could she trust them? Perhaps some of them. Certainly not M’Raaj-Dar. Beyond exposing Tara, he might hurt Clarissa just out of spite. Tara shook her head. Besides, someone had to watch the house. Her mother had it built in that location specifically for when she was in the area, so renting it out wasn’t an option. Maybe when Kalila comes back…

Which reminded Tara that Kalila had not written her once since she left for Anvil! She felt a twist of hurt and fear. There had been an attack at the Chapel of Anvil recently. While Kalila wasn’t very active in her attendance, there was always a chance that she just so happened to go on the day of the attack. The Courier said that no one survived… By the Nine was she going to have to resurrect her too?

She shook her head. Kalila was fine. She was probably so wrapped up in her studies that she forgot about the rest of the world. That was how she was.

The scent of lavender was helping her feel more relaxed as she closed her eyes. She slept soundly.

This post has been edited by Jacki Dice: Nov 5 2014, 06:48 AM