Flow My Tears, the Prophet Said

[Vega Van-Derveld]

The village (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=15417) was in ruins. Months had done nothing to heal the wounds, the bloody scars left in once pristine white snow. Where once before he had come bearing gifts, now Van-Derveld carried with him only malice.

“Sibylle!”

The words came hoarse to begin with, the groan of a synthesized voice-box, but the wind did little to help, almost swallowing the sound entirely as Vega stalked across the frozen tundra towards the snaggle-toothed mouth of a cave. Smoke rose from within and bones littered the entrance, whilst the smell of charred meat flavored the air.

[Sibylle]

Too long had the relentless winds howled at her. Too long had she thought to hear voices carried to her in the form of words she actually understood. That she now heard a whisper of her name did not surprise her, but she ignored the call just the same. The biting cold often tried to lure her out of her seclusion. It played with her mind, sometimes it was her absent master's voice, calling her to his side. She often saw him in the snow, beckoning her to come out and freeze.

Other times, it was the others she heard, warriors from distant tribes that came to find the devastated and slaughtered village. They would come for her, and for revenge at what had been done to their kind..

..but she was not just little Sibylle anymore.

Blood and snow. Bone and fire. Ash and tears, had forged her into something else. Something that survived purely on instinct, alone in a place where little Sibylle would have not lasted a day.. and this new persona had no tolerance for their revenge.

Pulling the blue-furred cloak, hand fashioned from her latest kill, around her slender shoulders, she tore free meat from bone with her teeth. Her cold blue gaze drifted toward the mouth of the cave that was her shelter from the elements.

Were they come again, Sibylle..?

Rising from her seat before the cooking flames, she shuffled toward the door, a jagged piece of bone clutched in her hand, ready to plunge it into the throat of whatever came into her presence..

[Vega Van-Derveld]

The dazzling white light, reflected all across Nelvaan's icy terrain, haloed Van-Derveld as he limped to a halt. Ash and embers rose before him from the campfire, but with his back to the outdoors, his features were all but obscured in shadow. Only the dagger in his hand gleamed, a sharp line of silver.

“Come out, come out...”

[Sibylle]

A startled hiss escaped her blood-stained lips as Sibylle stopped her attack, mid swing. She did not need to see the visage of the one before her to identify him, his presence was singular and more frigid than this frost covered patch of land. With her teeth bared in a rictus grin - a terrifying sight for the unsuspecting, but was in truth a look of surprised pleasure that her master had returned for her - she dropped the bit of bone that she would have sunk into his jugular.

"Our master has found his way back to us!", she rasped..

[Vega Van-Derveld]

As his vision adjusted to the murk of the cave, Van-Derveld saw the remains of some creature picked clean, its ribs snapped like twigs. There was nothing to suggest a person had been living here, any more than an animal.

“What do you have to tell me? Speak quickly and plainly, and pray I don't make you regret that I came half-way back across the galaxy for you.”

[Sibylle]

Of course, she knew what he wanted. Though her personality was a bit altered, she recalled what purpose he had stolen her for. He was seeking the other one, the woman. He had promised Sibylle strength and power, so long as she continued to serve him with her visions, helping him to track this elusive female. He would make her strong enough to take what she wanted form who she wanted..but now? He had been gone too long.

"The one you seek has gone from my sight. Without you here with me, I could not continue to sense her. My last impression of her was within the company of red-haired witches. She did not stay long with them before they moved on. She is not the only one being hunted. Danger surrounds them all.."

Danger and, as a result, extreme caution. Tracking them would not be exactly easy.

[Vega Van-Derveld]

The one you seek... Grace. The heart inside of him, which seemed at times as much a lump of coal or ice as a living thing, seemed to throb at the thought of her. Years had passed but blood was blood and he could not forget his family, especially not knowing now what he had not known then: the truth of their heritage, as a great house of the Lupine dynasty.

“The red witches,” he echoed, in what might have once been a ponderous murmur. The haze of introspection was short-lived, and Van-Derveld took a meaningful stride towards his slave, consumed with the urge to shake her until she spilled out all the answers he desired – but resisting, for now. “What danger, Sibylle? Where did you last see them?”