67The Death of the Dark Lord Thirilight
or
Lethal Granny
The world went reeling as Denceress pierced me with her wicked sword. The moment she withdrew her blade, I fell limply to the ground. Oddly enough, nothing hurt.
As I lay on my back in the bloody grass, which was a very pretty red, by the way, I could not help but notice the triumphant gleam in the heroine's eyes. Her cheeks flushed a victorious shade of blushing pink and-
What the hell is wrong with me?
Oh. Right. Dying. I wonder if everyone's mind wanders as much when they're bleeding to death. It seems the whole vision going dark thing is true, though.
Blink.
No, wait. Just forgot to blink. Hm... Staring at the sun is bad for the vision.
"Are you sure he's dead?"
... Are you talking about me?
"Of course. I struck him down with my magical sword. Besides, no one could have survived being stabbed in the liver."
Oh dear. My poor liver.
"I saw him blink not too long ago."
Uh-oh...
Kick.
Ha-ha! No reaction from me because I can't feel anything! Shock does have it's uses.
"Yup, he's dead."
Psh. Not yet I'm not.
"Still, it never hurts to make sure..."
Just keep staring. Just keep sta- What? Oh crap.
From behind a clump of bushes, a shadowy figure watched the terrible scene unfold. They watched as Thirilight, pierced through the abdomen by the loud girl's magicked blade, fell limply to the forest floor and did not rise. They watched as the little girl proclaimed her victory and kicked Thirilight's unmoving body. They watched as the girl's companion, unsatisfied with the gut wound, poised his sword above Thirilight's heart.
They watched, and then they acted.
"Thirry, dearest, have you found those flowers ye..." A little old lady, gray-haired and wizened, fought through a clump of bushes, halting, speechless, at the sight of the dead villain.
"Fear not, grandmother!" I begin, construing her pause to consternation. "Yon vile villain lies vanquished and will trouble you no further!" I proclaim, grandly, certain that the kind old soul will weep in gratitude and gladness.
Instead, she runs over to the body, screeching.
"Thirry! Thirry! Oh, gods, Thirry!" Once at the dead villain's side, she gently cradles his head in her arms and rocks back and forth, moaning and weeping. "Oh gods, oh gods! Not my only grandson! Not my beloved grandchild!" She carries on like this for quite some time, and I begin to wonder if we killed the right man after all...
Thomas is still standing there, uncertain, his sword poised above the villain's heart, when the grieving grandmother explodes in maternal rage.
"You! You killed him! You killed my grandson!" she raves, her wiry frame quivering with the force of her fury. An aura of power gathers around the grandmother, and the trees shudder in wary anticipation.
Oh crap. We just pissed off the local hedge witch.
Thomas hurriedly backs away as the ground shakes and heaves. As the aura of magic grows thicker about the old woman, he flees to the cover of the trees, shouting, "She did it!" while pointing straight at me. The coward.
Shortly thereafter, a tree, ancient and gnarled, came toppling down upon my spineless companion. Poetic justice.
The death of my traitorous travel partner results in the hedge witch plying her full attention on me, but I am not worried. The Amulet of Baellyne protects me from all magical attacks, and her strikes, though strengthened by rage, are no match for the Amulet's enchantments. Eventually, she tires and collapses to her knees, sobbing her withered old heart out.
As a heroine must ever be compassionate, I approach the weeping woman, kneeling down to her level and embracing her. After a moment's hesitation, she returns the embrace, and I meet her eyes with my well-practiced sorrowful gaze.
Her eyes are the only lively things upon her visage, sea-gray and bottomless with untold years of sorrow. Drowning in their unfathomable depths, it takes me a moment to realize that I am, quite literally, in the physical sense, drowning.
I try to look away, but I cannot! I realize with detached and growing horror that when she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, she unfastened the Amulet from my neck, leaving me vulnerable to magical attack.
No! No! I cannot die! Not yet! Not here! I have a kingdom to rule! A people to redeem! A crown and jewels to claim!
Her eyes, her hypnotic, fathomless eyes, heedless of my sacred mission, draw me further down into the depths of the seas where life and light are forsaken, and I am utterly helpless to halt it. I am drawn ever down, down, down to the deeps of the oceans, and Death's embrace greedily flings forth to enfold me.
But it wasn't supposed to end this way...
AN: Originally, this was just a drabble (first section), but Thirilight refused to stay dead, and another villain made her presence known, and then I couldn't resist showing the irony of the situation as viewed from Denceress's POV, and so we ended up with this.
This story is going to be so much fun to write. X3
AN2: The first 7 chapters are being rewritten so that everything is in third-person limited. In the meantime, enjoy the firsthand look at Thirry's thoughts, and please excuse the island hopping. ^^;
AN3: (Dec '11) I've decided to hold off on posting the revised chapters until all the relevant chapters have been completely revised. The story decided to go in slightly different directions during the revision, which makes for continuity snarls in addition to jarring style changes.