Awakening
By, Cathbad
I stir.
Something
has disturbed my long rest.
Someone
has intruded upon my sanctuary. I can
sense the intruder. Even in my
half-sleep I can smell her. I can feel
the stone’s light tremble as she walks tunnels long hidden from even the
dwarves. The heat from her body disturbs
the subterranean currents my body has become attuned to.
She is
but two levels from where I lay, encased in my solitude, ensconced in my tomb
of rock.
I hate
her.
I know
not how long my rest has been, but I know this awakening comes earlier than I
have intended! I know that this
interloper has destroyed the peaceful non-existence of my long slumber.
I expand
myself; feeling the resistance of the stone pressing in on me.
Loving
stone, how long you have caressed my body, protecting me from dangers I have
secluded myself from!
And now I
must break you. I must crack the shell
of my entombment, that I may deal with this fool, who dares to break in on my
peace. I must shatter the stone that
covers me.
My cocoon.
But I am
no fluttering butterfly, who’s anger is abated with a kiss of the wind. No, my friend, you have disturbed the slumber
of a monster; a beast who has no love for your – or any kind.
You have
brought your filthy body here, in the clothes of the pauper. Did you think to beg me for a boon?
Instead,
you shall face the wrath and retribution of one who hates you, almost as much
as he hates the sun, so blessedly long removed from his sight!
I stretch
my forearms, dismayed for their lack of strength… or their aesthetic charm.
Muscles
scream in protest. Pain racks my body,
but I do not scream out. I must not
alert the hated intruder to my whereabouts.
Not yet.
I dream
of tearing the elven criminal apart. I
revel in the image of tossing away her limbs, Ripping her torso asunder. Reveling in the image of her entrails
spilling upon the stone at my large feet.
I stretch
out one long, powerfull leg, causing the stone to crumble about it. I smile at the pain, knowing I will repay it
threefold on my victim, and I shall do it soon.
She is now
a single level above me, strolling nonchalantly through what was once and will
be again be my home. Waking on feet she
will not long now have. Breathing
through lungs that shall be my bread.
Out of a head that will adorn my mantle.
Arching
my back, and stone breaks with crackles and snaps. Stone falls about my self, and I imagine her
fear as she feels the tremors my awakening is causing. My smile, it is said, can ice the strongest
heart, weaken the bravest will. I feel
the rubble fall from my face as that smile stretches muscle and sinew.
My body
can now shift; to and fro I rock, loosening my hard blanket that time has
stiffened through the long, silent years against my leathery skin.
Hard is
my skin, but not cold. Even now, the
not-quite-dormant fire rekindles anew.
The heat begins to warm my innards, bringing me closer to full wakefulness. And with renewed flame comes renewed
strength.
I rock
harder against the walls of my self-imposed prison, built so long ago, to
escape – for but a while – a cold and hate-filled world.
I am sure
they have forgotten me. My name will be
but myth in their minds, old stories told by a generation older than the
survivors who will soon get to know me.
Soon my name shall leap from the pages of fairy tales and will once
again bring fear by its mere utterance!
I have
loved flesh, and soon I will taste it again.
Ahh, the feel of fresh meat being rend between my teeth. The gush of hot blood rushing down my
throat. The sheer pleasure of filling my
mouth with more and more!
With
renewed effort, I break hard stone. With
eyes now open, as capable of seeing in the dark as the abomination traversing
my sacred tunnels I watch the rubble fall away.
And knowing she can no longer escape me, I allow myself the release of a
great cry: A howl born of pain, hunger…
and new-found freedom!
I glory
in the knowledge of how my voice has sent a sword of fear piercing the chest of
this feminine fool. Run, my beauty; it
matters not. I am too close to freedom,
you too far from it.
My limbs
are now capable of stretching fully forth.
The air is now thick enough for me to take great gulps of it. Quickly, the walls of my boudoir begin to
crumble. A fury of falling rock, great
gusts of stone dust, and the moaning of the great mountain itself announce to
even the gods that the greatest of the Great Race has once again risen from his
tomb!
I scream
as the last remnants of the cocoon fall away. The force of my voice shatters the panels I
long ago set to block out the sun. And wide
shafts of light once again reveal my great and horrible lair! Again I cry out, against the pain of my
parched throat, out of the sheer anger and joy of freedom!
My wings,
unfolded once more, batter against the current in this underground
stronghold. My lungs fill with both air
and bile – the catalysts for my fires!
And my
senses fill with the recognition of… her.
There she
stands, in my very lair. Wielding a
sword birthed by the skills of her own people, in armor once worn as skin by my
own.
An Elven
Warrior revealed.
And all I can do is smile.
What a
glorious day! Awakened against my will,
yes, but to the glory and thrill of Battle, as well!
Let this
new age begin! I scream my desire to the
gods, and face my would-be assassin with a sneer of unadulterated pleasure.
Let the
New Age of Darganau begin!
