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.

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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]

Grits~ I got the idea from Lord of Souls. Or maybe it was The Infernal City. One of them. Anyway, they have so much more practical magic described!

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Chapter Sixteen: Shade

It had been years since Tara woke to the scent of breakfast cooking. Groggily bundling up, she recalled the last time Kalila had cooked breakfast. Their mother had been home and she cheerily remarked that Kalila would land a man in no time if she kept cooking. In response, Kalila immediately laid down the spoon and hadn’t touched a stove since. Tara smiled a little at the memory.

With the smell of bacon permeating the air, she allowed herself to stretch out and just linger under the covers for a few moments. She was always so busy running around that sometimes she forgot to take time to just breathe.

With her eyes closed, she took slow breaths as she allowed her mind to relax. She focused on the feeling of her body on the mattress, the crisp sheets tangled around her bare legs, the weight of her hair on the pillow, the sound of something scratching at the bookshelf…

Wait.

She opened her eyes and saw the largest rat she had ever seen.

Tara got up with a shriek, pulling her blankets up on the bed so they weren’t touching the floor. As she brought nothing, she didn’t have anything to throw at it other than her shoes. She was not prepared to make that sort of sacrifice.

Antoinetta burst in. Her clear blue eyes were wide as she looked up at Tara. “What’s wrong?” She asked, taking a step forward.

“Rat!” Tara hissed. “Kill it!” It was then that she remembered that she could probably hit it with a good shock spell. She locked her fingers in a claw-like position and began to draw the spell from within her when Antoinetta picked it up. Bare handed. “Dear gods, what are you doing?” She asked as her hand slacked.

“Oh, dear,” Antoinetta said in a baby-like voice. “I think Ocheeva forgot to introduce me to you! I’m sowwy.” She made the rat make a waving motion with its front paw. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Schemer! I’m a very good rat most of the time, but sometimes I sneak into people’s rooms and give them such a start! But I’m very nice and I’m all clean!”

Tara had since dropped her hand and the look of fear was replaced by mild disgust. “You mean… it lives here? As a… a pet or something?”

“Yes,” Antoinetta said in her normal voice. “He’s a sweetheart. Don’t worry, he never leaves the Sanctuary, so there’s no risk of him bringing disease. Take a look, his fur is nice and glossy and his eyes are clear. I even brush his teeth!”

Tara couldn’t hide the repulsed look on her face. “You can’t be serious!”

Antoinetta shrugged. “Well, I guess since I’ve lived among rats and spiders for so long, they don’t really phase me. I never really had the luxury of being afraid of them.” She set Schemer down, outside Tara’s door. “So Ocheeva told me your sister is ill.”

Tara climbed down and began to make her bed. “Did she?”

Antoinetta nodded. “Shame. What’s she sick with?”

“Well…” Tara started, trying to come up with something. She had become better at lying lately, but it still made her nervous. She always had to recall exactly what she said and to whom and when… It was exhausting! Not to mention having to watch her body language for give-aways. She immediately stopped wringing her hands. “She came down with a case of yellow tick.”

Antoinetta nodded. “Such a shame. So you take care of her then?” She smiled a little. “How old is she?”

Tara could feel her stomach begin to grease up. She understood the questions. It was the usual small talk one engages in when joining a new guild. She couldn’t afford to appear cold and uninterested.

Besides, that was a difficult question to answer. Technically, Clarissa was fourteen. However, she spent three years dead. In fact, she was still technically dead and would be for another ten months. So would the lost time make her ten? Her mind and body would dictate so. In fact, that brought up another concern for Tara. When Clarissa became of legal age, she could still have the mentality of a teenager. She frowned at the implications.

“She’s fourteen,” she finally answered. “But she’s the baby of the family, so I guess sometimes she seems a lot younger than she is.”

“Ah,” Antoinetta nodded. “I was the youngest in my family, but…” She smiled and shrugged. “I guess not every family treasures the youngest like yours.” She looked like she was about to elaborate, but then a bell rang. “Oh! That’s breakfast!”



Breakfast was no less spectacular than dinner had been. It would surely be a bad idea to live here, Tara thought. I’ll gain weight and Mother will never let me hear the end of it!

After she ate, Vicente led her to a room at the end of the hall to begin her lessons in shade repressing. The room was much larger than hers. In fact, it was more like a suite. The main room contained a dark gray chaise lounge with an emerald green paisley print. A couple of green pillows were placed on each side. It was placed under a looming bookcase that stretch across the entire wall. It was tall enough to require a ladder that wheeled from one end to the other. Tara had always wanted one of those.

There was a nice fireplace that was currently unlit. Instead of bricks, it was made of white marble slab. Above it was a beautiful landscape depicting mushroom-like trees overlooking a crystal lake. The land looked almost swamp-like and was dotted with gold and pink flowers. There were other paintings as well, mostly depicting the same sort of landscapes.

“Please,” Vicente said, motioning to the chaise lounge. “Make yourself at home.”

As Tara moved a pillow out of her way, Vicente poured her a glass of water. “I’d offer you some wine, but it’s still a bit early.” He smiled. Tara found it very hard to keep from being drawn in too deeply. “So, I trust Ocheeva told you about our first order of business.”

“Yes,” she said. “I need to learn how to repress a shade.” She furrowed her brows a little. “I honestly have no idea where to begin.”

Vicente frowned a little. “So, she didn’t tell you how we go about that process?”

Something in his tone bothered her. “No. Should she have?”

Vicente sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, I think it would have been a lot…easier coming from her.” Vicente took a seat in a tall armchair. “What I am going to do is use magic to bring you just a breath away from death’s door. One you are there, I will summon your shade just enough for me to sense it and for you to feel it so you know how to hold it in. Then I’m going to revive you. We’ll go over it a few times and eventually, it’ll become an automatic response.”

Tara’s eyes widened as she clutched the pillow to her chest. “Isn’t there any other way? This sounds far too dangerous! I mean one little slip…” She set her water down. “I’m sorry, Vicente. I don’t think I can do this. You could kill me!”

“No, no, no,” Vicente said. “You won’t die. I have excellent control.”

Tara stood up, still frowning. Her heart felt like a stone, sinking into her stomach. Whether or not he had excellent control did not negate what he was about to do. “I don’t think you quite understand. You are asking me to put my life literally in your hands with this.”

“I am. Isn’t that what guildmates are supposed to do?”

“Yes, but this isn’t a—” She stopped herself, sitting back down. “It’s nothing against you. I just didn’t think there would be this level of involvement.”

“Hmm.” Vicente nodded slightly. “I suppose you figured it would be a little more like a band of hit men? Get the assignment, reap the reward, and call it a day, right?”

Tara said nothing.

“Sorry to disappoint, but we’re a lot more like any other guild. This includes having to trust in all of us as we will with you.”

Tara closed her eyes to keep the disbelief hidden. She was an upstanding member of the Mages Guild. They were assassins. They were not the same. Not even similar.

“Listen,” Vicente knelt down, taking her hand in his. Tara started to pull away, but damn it those eyes of his. The soft way he spoke… That smile… She relaxed. “I understand your fear. I was mortal once upon a time. You’ll just have to trust me. Trust us. We’re your family. I would never put you in harm’s way.” He squeezed her hand slightly. “Do you trust me, Tara?”

Tara wanted with all her might to be blunt and say “no” but when she looked into his eyes, she saw no malice. He seemed so honest… “Yes. I believe you.” She didn't even realize that she had spoke until the words were out.

“Good.” He said. As soon as he sat back in his chair that feeling left her. Tara suddenly felt vulnerable. And somehow dirty. “Then let’s get started, shall we?”