Thule: Gateways to Darkness

poking into the unknown 2

second in a series

The face I present to the world is one I have the most control over. When you live as a underclass in the courts of the elven high-born nobles you cannot afford to lose control in public. A faux pas never goes unnoticed. Or at least it never used to. Sure the other half-elves are as critical of each other as a full blood elves (sometimes more so if they seek your diminution), but the grand parties and social events have all but gone away now. Of the high, only my former master resisted the call of the Black Milk. Now he is gone and the Imystrahl I knew is lost to me.

Of late, I feel my discipline eroding. My manners, speech and self control are deteriorating. Quoddeth is unrefined, but it is home now. My companions are my household, I will attempt to be an example, a pillar of civility in this place. It is a challenge. Even the respectable priestess of Ishtar has the manners of a urchin back in Imystrahl.

What is of particular concern to me is what has been happening during those times when the path of action is necessary… I feel my power changing, growing. I feel greater control over that power and it will be mastered. I am its master.

Yet I am noticing the feelings I get when I use the power. The courtly voice and manners that has defined who I have been my whole life change in a heartbeat. I can feel the heat behind my eyes, the growl in my voice. I recognize now that I delighted at the terror on the thug’s face. I recognize now that a part of me hoped that there was not a peaceful resolution to the conflict. The thug was already burning in my mind.

To be sure, I need to reassure my companions that I am still the same polite and civilized Lucien and that perhaps I just have a flair for the dramatic at times.

The important thing is that we are now masters of the Tower of the Black Flame. I will unlock its secrets. I will not be distracted by the promises of power and prestige that comes with this arrangement. There are BIG things happening in the world and we appear to be running out of time.

We leave tomorrow for the Ghan Peninsula. It looks like a merry outing. It could not come soon enough, my powers practically itch to be used. I pray that the trip is not uneventful.


Rather than “The turtle moves.”, the pass-phrase is “It burns.”?

poking into the unknown 2
Erudite_E colinwalling

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