Simon_Hawk
Ranger
"Free are we to choose but none can escape the consequences of their actions" ~ Tira'Allara Silverthistle.
The once-great elven scholar remained a prisoner within her own body. Her very mind was confined, separated and disconnected from the seemingly lifeless vessel. Tira'Allara Silverthistle found herself seated upon an ornate wheelchair constructed of mahogany, brass, and velvet and this chair would be the fixture from where she contemplated her life’s actions.
For what felt like endless days following her defeat at the hands of her daughter, Tira'Allara Silverthistle cried out to those around her. Hoping, yearning, praying to anyone or anything that would listen. She desperately pleaded for somebody to please free her from this terrible circumstance. Tira yelled and screamed to no avail then sobbed with all her remaining strength, yet no sound escaped her lips no tears flowed from her eyes and nobody not a single solitary soul would come to acknowledge her pleas.
Tira was rendered completely and utterly immobile, unable to act in the slightest. She desperately tried to move her fingers her toes yet nothing happened, simply blinking or moving her eyes to look around was completely and utterly impossible. The once-great scholar and mastermind behind The Great Stones War had been reduced to nothing more than an inanimate object capable of only simple bodily functions.
Months at the care facility passed uneventfully, each day a veritable eternity for the imprisoned elf as she continually observed the monotonous routine of the caregivers. Like automatons the various caregivers rhythmically changed the bedding, clothes, bathed, and fed the occupants. Tira memorizing the routines for no more reason than to keep herself from going insane as she desperately wished to be free. The facility itself was constructed of cut stone and heavy timbers giving an almost fortress-like feel but for large arched windows that let in plenty of light. Inside was decorated with colorful tapestries, paintings, and various plants. Thick rugs lined the floors accenting the thick padded furniture. The place was remarkable but was nothing more than a secondary prison to the dismayed Tira.
The grueling monotony was shattered one sunny morning as a familiar woman entered Tira’s bedroom. She was a tall and athletic-looking half-elf outfitted in a neatly cut dark burgundy victorian style jacket with black trim, form-fitting black pants, and black leather boots with lace-up sides that ended below the knee. Her hair was dark chestnut brown and pulled back into a simple tail that fell to mid-back. The curious woman stood in the doorway framed by the daylight behind her as she gazed upon Tira, the intensity of this woman’s dark brown eyes magnified by her black eye shadow.
Tira's daughter, Tuka’Lunaryu Silverthistle Marcel was standing there as if a ghost appeared from nowhere as if to rub in the fact that Tuka was free to move about the world while Tira was confined to this living hell. Tira hadn’t seen or heard of Tuka since the final battle within the chamber that held the captive being known only as “Sin”. If only Tuka hadn’t been there with her group of fellow warriors and her rallied troops from across the land, if only the evil wizard Zaqar had been more powerful, if only Tira had killed Tuka instead of trying to recruit her then none of this would be happening, the defeated Tira thought as she relived the memories.
"Damn you, Tuka! Damn you stubborn, stupid girl! To the nine hells with you!" Is what Tira wanted to scream, if she could only move she'd slap the face of her tenacious daughter, but cold silence was the only thing the once-great scholar was capable of. The misdirected anger quickly subsided as Tira came to realize that she was angry, disappointed, and disgusted with herself for letting herself descend to such selfish and destructive levels. How could it have come to this Tira wondered?
Tuka entered the room and sat next to Tira, new confidence and power seemed to radiate from her daughter as Tira could sense her daughter’s aura.
"If you're wondering about your wheelchair, Cassidy and I arranged it for you. He didn't want to and for good reason but I finally convinced him." Tuka paused, a minuscule smile graced her lips. "He's...a good man, you'd like him," Tuka said softly, then paused.
"I... didn't want this to happen I was trying to save you. I only wanted to see you again, and to know that you were okay." The half-elf daughter of Tira said quietly. She released her mother’s hand then rubbed at her temples.
“But, how could you have done all of this, what in God’s bones were you thinking? I still don’t understand.” Tuka pleaded.
“For two years we battled the mad wizard Zaqar and his forces, only to learn that you of all people were behind his actions and letting him run wild without restraint,” Tuka said, her face turning red with as she suppressed her anger.
“Do you even have a clue the amount of destruction that madman caused? How many soldiers lost their lives and on both sides for that matter. The families whose homes and villages were destroyed...even my companions, killed in all of this madness. You’re goddamn lucky to even be here because the council wanted to burn your body but somehow I managed to convince them that this fate was worse than death.” Tuka just sighed and shook her head still in disbelief that her own mother could be behind such atrocities.
“ Hell, we don’t even know if you’re in there or not,” Tuka said, then got up to leave. "I...Don't know if I’m coming back here or not." She said then turned and departed.
Anger, disbelief, and mountains of regret tormented the defeated elven scholar. She had everything a mere second within her grasp, centuries of research, and scheming, all of it lost by nothing more than a simple touch. The transcended Earthling known as Sin, having been released from imprisonment after millennia had learned his lesson and punished Tira for her hubris by trapping her within her own body, much as he'd been trapped.
The price paid for Tira’s selfish actions was a life devoid of action itself. Tira would spend the remainder of her days watching the world pass by the windows of her eyes while being locked in eternal contemplation.
The once-great elven scholar remained a prisoner within her own body. Her very mind was confined, separated and disconnected from the seemingly lifeless vessel. Tira'Allara Silverthistle found herself seated upon an ornate wheelchair constructed of mahogany, brass, and velvet and this chair would be the fixture from where she contemplated her life’s actions.
For what felt like endless days following her defeat at the hands of her daughter, Tira'Allara Silverthistle cried out to those around her. Hoping, yearning, praying to anyone or anything that would listen. She desperately pleaded for somebody to please free her from this terrible circumstance. Tira yelled and screamed to no avail then sobbed with all her remaining strength, yet no sound escaped her lips no tears flowed from her eyes and nobody not a single solitary soul would come to acknowledge her pleas.
Tira was rendered completely and utterly immobile, unable to act in the slightest. She desperately tried to move her fingers her toes yet nothing happened, simply blinking or moving her eyes to look around was completely and utterly impossible. The once-great scholar and mastermind behind The Great Stones War had been reduced to nothing more than an inanimate object capable of only simple bodily functions.
Months at the care facility passed uneventfully, each day a veritable eternity for the imprisoned elf as she continually observed the monotonous routine of the caregivers. Like automatons the various caregivers rhythmically changed the bedding, clothes, bathed, and fed the occupants. Tira memorizing the routines for no more reason than to keep herself from going insane as she desperately wished to be free. The facility itself was constructed of cut stone and heavy timbers giving an almost fortress-like feel but for large arched windows that let in plenty of light. Inside was decorated with colorful tapestries, paintings, and various plants. Thick rugs lined the floors accenting the thick padded furniture. The place was remarkable but was nothing more than a secondary prison to the dismayed Tira.
The grueling monotony was shattered one sunny morning as a familiar woman entered Tira’s bedroom. She was a tall and athletic-looking half-elf outfitted in a neatly cut dark burgundy victorian style jacket with black trim, form-fitting black pants, and black leather boots with lace-up sides that ended below the knee. Her hair was dark chestnut brown and pulled back into a simple tail that fell to mid-back. The curious woman stood in the doorway framed by the daylight behind her as she gazed upon Tira, the intensity of this woman’s dark brown eyes magnified by her black eye shadow.
Tira's daughter, Tuka’Lunaryu Silverthistle Marcel was standing there as if a ghost appeared from nowhere as if to rub in the fact that Tuka was free to move about the world while Tira was confined to this living hell. Tira hadn’t seen or heard of Tuka since the final battle within the chamber that held the captive being known only as “Sin”. If only Tuka hadn’t been there with her group of fellow warriors and her rallied troops from across the land, if only the evil wizard Zaqar had been more powerful, if only Tira had killed Tuka instead of trying to recruit her then none of this would be happening, the defeated Tira thought as she relived the memories.
"Damn you, Tuka! Damn you stubborn, stupid girl! To the nine hells with you!" Is what Tira wanted to scream, if she could only move she'd slap the face of her tenacious daughter, but cold silence was the only thing the once-great scholar was capable of. The misdirected anger quickly subsided as Tira came to realize that she was angry, disappointed, and disgusted with herself for letting herself descend to such selfish and destructive levels. How could it have come to this Tira wondered?
Tuka entered the room and sat next to Tira, new confidence and power seemed to radiate from her daughter as Tira could sense her daughter’s aura.
"If you're wondering about your wheelchair, Cassidy and I arranged it for you. He didn't want to and for good reason but I finally convinced him." Tuka paused, a minuscule smile graced her lips. "He's...a good man, you'd like him," Tuka said softly, then paused.
"I... didn't want this to happen I was trying to save you. I only wanted to see you again, and to know that you were okay." The half-elf daughter of Tira said quietly. She released her mother’s hand then rubbed at her temples.
“But, how could you have done all of this, what in God’s bones were you thinking? I still don’t understand.” Tuka pleaded.
“For two years we battled the mad wizard Zaqar and his forces, only to learn that you of all people were behind his actions and letting him run wild without restraint,” Tuka said, her face turning red with as she suppressed her anger.
“Do you even have a clue the amount of destruction that madman caused? How many soldiers lost their lives and on both sides for that matter. The families whose homes and villages were destroyed...even my companions, killed in all of this madness. You’re goddamn lucky to even be here because the council wanted to burn your body but somehow I managed to convince them that this fate was worse than death.” Tuka just sighed and shook her head still in disbelief that her own mother could be behind such atrocities.
“ Hell, we don’t even know if you’re in there or not,” Tuka said, then got up to leave. "I...Don't know if I’m coming back here or not." She said then turned and departed.
Anger, disbelief, and mountains of regret tormented the defeated elven scholar. She had everything a mere second within her grasp, centuries of research, and scheming, all of it lost by nothing more than a simple touch. The transcended Earthling known as Sin, having been released from imprisonment after millennia had learned his lesson and punished Tira for her hubris by trapping her within her own body, much as he'd been trapped.
The price paid for Tira’s selfish actions was a life devoid of action itself. Tira would spend the remainder of her days watching the world pass by the windows of her eyes while being locked in eternal contemplation.