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Alanna Chapter 7

Three years later, Alanna awoke with a start in the night with her mother screaming in agony, the piercing cries nearly deafened her ears from across the room as she was trying to pry open the book. It hadn’t opened for her for some time, and she wanted to know why, but the screams from yonder demanded her attention, as much as she didn’t care for whatever was causing such terror or were these screams of pain. She sighed and sprinted down the stairs, seeing her mother completely naked out in the open for passers by who might be looking. She had no shame.

“Oh, my Rats,” Alanna put her hand to her mouth as she watched what appeared to be a head coming from the purple womb.

“Get out of me, you useless son of a bitch!” Merila cried, tears rolling down her face. The head was coming, and Alanna dove forward to try to catch the baby coming outside. Her mother kept pushing, and the womb was stretching, permitting the newborn out. Coated in fluids, the half-elf came, and his skin was just as white as Alanna’s, untouched by whatever it was that made her mother purple. She shied away from it, pulling him up and squatting. The chord was still attached, and panting, Merila took hold of the chord, bit it, and ripped it off.

Her mother panted while she looked at the baby. The pointed ears were just as defined as her mother’s actually, but the skin, despite the parents both being dark purple or ashen, came out white. Why? She moved the baby, and while it cried, she kept cradling it while her mother recovered, leaning forward, with her arms up, tears in her eyes, and she laid there simply when the baby came out of her belly, and no attempts to clean herself up of her own mess.

“Give him here,” she said.

Alanna obliged and obeyed her mother, bringing the baby to her, passing him off gently. Her mother smiled, weakly, she noted as she cradled her baby to sleep. “Alanna, this is your brother,” she said. “He’s precious isn’t he? Can you promise me something?”

“What?” Alanna asked.

“Make sure nothing bad ever happens to him. Protect him, feed him.”

“Yes,” Alanna said, not knowing what it was she was agreeing to.

“Good girl,” Merila looked up to her. “I love you.”

Alanna nodded, and Merila took one hand and grabbed the back of Alanna’s head, and pushed her closer. Alanna turned her head immediately as her mother nearly pecked her on the lips.

“Do you love me?” She asked.

“I love you,” Alanna answered.

“Good.”

#dark fantasy #giving birth #newborn

Alanna Chapter 6

Alanna gazed up at the temple. A number of metallic bowls littered the pathway leading up to the stairs. The stairs were cracking in places as the crowds of people walked up, humans, more dark elves, like her mother, orcs, humans, other creatures to which she knew not the name of, nor what they might be called. Never properly brought upon herself the knowledge to such inquiry. But atop the temple, before reaching inside, delicately carved symbols made their ways up the cone, as it were, golden hues, she’d describe it as. And yet, at the very top, was the face of a rat, large enough with fangs, and hair delicately added like thistles.

Upon reaching inside the temple, the air was thick, and unpleasant, and she smelled something horrid to which she’d only describe as week-old’s rat poop. Smoldering somewhere. There were large windows with arches, but no glass inside, it was bare, and yet, the stone, soft it appeared, and perfectly carved to allow such other shapes and designs of such rats to watch over them with red stones for eyes. Before each rat, their tail curled around the stem of a bowl, and a substance burning inside it. Fumes filled the room.

Alanna observed the chairs, or pews, her mother called them, several benches, and they were being filled fast. Her mother took her hand, and held it out for another man, welcoming her in. The man seemed jaded of all things, and yet, with enough fortitude to bring to her a pamphlet. Her mother handed it to her, and she took it in her spare hand as they walked down the aisle to find a seat. The room was brimming with anticipation as an orc, a dark elf, a man, and some other shorter stubby man with a long white beard was at the altar, or so it seemed, hands opened to the air with their mouths moving in unison as if speaking to someone not present in the room. Behind the musical instruments, the beheld a large rat, the size of which was much larger than the rat atop the temple. Large stubby paws it had, a long tail snaking its way through, and as her eyes shifted towards it, gold glimmering in the flamelight, the tail completely encircled the sanctuary.

She looked down at the parchment of paper she was presented when she sat down, and was subsequently pushed even further into her mother’s embrace, her hand around her shoulder, she beheld the markings. Several different lines, some of which she knew, and most of them, still unknown to her as she didn’t recognize the patterns and shapes to which would perform the conceptualization of words. Such a foreign concept, all things considered, and yet, so mundane that she didn’t know any of it, not well enough, anyway.

“Momma,” she looked up, tugging at her mother’s sleeve.

“Hmm?” her mother responded, carefully glancing down at her daughter, and caressing her face. “What is it?”

Alanna couldn’t but feel a hostile presence in the room. Especially that when her mother touched her, and in such a way that was, natural. Seemingly, she wanted to ask a question, wanted to know what all this was, and what it meant. Would this be the answer to so many questions to which she had? That being the one simple question she had, and that was, how was she to get whatever it was that Gerga and Krilla had that she craved so much. What was it they had? Was this an answer to that question?

“What does all this mean?” She finally asked.

“Ninkilim,” she said softly. “Is the God I worship and gave my life to. He is a God of pleasure and allows us to pursue what we wish. He undid the chains of that which came before, that oppressed me. He allowed me to escape from where I once lived, you see. He is a rat, a lovely rat that loves us, and wants us to seek pleasure in his name. We come here to be closer to him, and above all else, to seek pleasure. The songs they sing will speak to him, and you can just but listen for now. Tell me later what you think.”

Alanna nodded and looked up ahead, and the singing started. The music came about, and the songs were pleasing to her ears, but she understood not the song or the lyrics that were sang, instead, she focused on those around her. Indeed, many people swayed their hips with the tunes of the song, and the lyrics, which seemed rhythmic in nature with the words the singer chose to use. She looked up at the flames, which seemed to bolster with the words in the room, response to the worship in Ninkilim’s name, righteous and holy it seemed. Were Auntie and uncle righteous and holy?

The singing stopped and the musicians departed from the altar, leaving their instruments there. Everyone in the room sat down, taking their seats, and all eyes fixated on the altar of the rat. A wind crept through the room, and the flames flickered before bolstering up in great pillars, warming the room, but this was a different warmth than what Krilla and Gerga had with one another, and extended to her. It was different, but she didn’t comprehend the differences to which such things meant. But one thing was certain, she knew that this Ninkilim was real, and she was in his house.

An orc, heavily robed in black stood at the altar, and with him, a book. The fangs above his teeth were white, and one partially broken off. He had a thick face, and a smile, baring white brightly with the golden hue reflection from the décor of the home of his God. He opened a book, and motioned his hands, palms to the air, as he pushed them up. “Please rise,” he said, his voice guttural, and for her, she was hardly able to understand. “For our worship, we call out to our God, let his name be filled with honor and praise, and our hedonistic wishes.”

Alanna rose again, clutching close to her mother’s sleeve. Behind her though, she felt warm breath coasting through the hairs on her neck, and another hand grabbing her shoulder. She looked back, her hair flipping to the side to see who it was that touched her so willingly, and yet, a warmness to the other hand as she looked in the face of a dark elf, skin ashen. Her mother’s skin was purple, and not ashen grey like this one was. Just another line of questions she didn’t understand.

“Our chains were once bound and blinded by such that would choose to curse us, you chose to come up from your dens and gnaw away out bones and flesh that which we could escape. We had not the will not desire to remove our chains,” the orc said. “And you came, welcoming us, freeing us from your adversary’s prison, and we, who are unworthy of your adoration, you freed us. How are we to repay your kindness except to do that which you called us to do? Seek pleasure together and with you.” The orc celebrated by grunting. “Now, let us sing again!”

Alanna watched the musicians take them up again and started playing. The people in the congregation continued to sing, but she remembered, even as she stood, the hand behind her never let go. She knew not why there was a hand atop her shoulder, but she didn’t bother with it. Her mother would explain this culture to her, should the question remain with her to the end of this ceremony. She still didn’t understand any of it, questions, and many questions, some without words with which to ask entered her mind. The singing stopped and the orc took to the pedestal again.

“Let us not forget, the reason that we all may celebrate the breaking of our bonds is the rat’s sacrifice and let us not forget that we must consume him that we may receive favor still from him. So, therefore, I pass to each and everyone of you the flesh and the blood of Ninkilim before you. Eat and drink and be merry, and let us not forget the ceremony of pleasure, in celebration of the releasing of the bonds.”

Alanna’s mother knelt down and put her mouth to her ear. “Ninkilim, God of pleasure, and it was he who freed me from this bondage. If you want to take part, you may.”

People dressed in cloaks went to the priest, and took down red bowls, of which, she heard the squealing noises of animals inside. These people had their faces covered in a mask, resembling a rat in honorarium to their God, and they came forth, passing the bowls out. Out the corner of her eyes, she saw many people taking the plates, passing them along and pulling a living, squirming rat out of it, and cuffed it in their hands. The tails squirmed through the cracks of their fingers. Their heads leaned forward.

At last, the plate came to her. Next to her was an older dark elf, one of lighter complexion than her mother, but the skin was a lighter blue than her mother, and it was she who passed the bowl to her. She took a rat out, passed it to her mother, who spoke silently to the rat with eyes closed, and head bowed like everyone else. Her mother’s hand rested on her back, encouraging here to bow her head, and so she did. But she imparted no words to the rat, who looked at her, the tail, slimly as it was in red fluids slithering through her fingers. The music went lower, and then the orc went to say the final sacraments.

“Freed were we, and now, must we too free the rats that way we might remain free,” the orc said, taking the rat to his mouth, biting into it. Blood dripped on his robe. “Take and eat and drink and be merry!”

She glanced over to her mother, who moved the rat closer to her mouth. The rat squealed, tail squirmed, and screeched as the head entered her mother’s mouth. The mouth bit until there was a crunch in the air. Tilting the body of the rat, now motionless as the tail draped between the fingers like a cloth. The rat’s torso came undone, and the blood spilled on her mother’s lap. Her mother continued to chew on the head and brought the neck of the rat to her lips and started sucking the blood out.

“Go on,” she said, with her mouth half full.

Alanna looked at her rat, and it peered back at her. Thinking of the rat, she wanted, for once, to not be here. She didn’t come all this way to eat a rat, she simply just wanted to answer a question as to what it was her aunt and uncle had. Was this the pathway to whatever it was? An answer? Should she eat this rat? Just then, her stomach growled for food, and she had her answer, though, perhaps not the answer she was hoping for.

She brought the crying rat to her mouth, the head she realized, furry as it tickled her lips. The head opened and she felt the rat spit into her mouth, and she brought her jaw down, crunching on the rat’s neck. She twisted and turned until the rat stopped moving and lay dead in her hands. She crunched on the rat’s head feeling a grotesque form on her tongue, she wanted to throw up, but forced her in her hunger to swallow the mass in her mouth. Finally, bringing the rat’s corpse to her mouth, she imbibed it’s blood like it was a bottle.

Alanna felt the thick, gamey substance slide down her throat, washing down the rest of whatever made a rat’s skull, down her throat. She coughed, wanting to spit it back up, but to her dismay, she wanted to keep it down, for fear of missing out on the possibility of a pathway to find whatever it was that her aunt and uncle had. She coughed, and then, something else got her attention, as she looked up, a pair of people, another dark elf, ashen, and a human came forth with a third, a half-elf, just like her, and the skin of the half elf was darker than hers, was. It wasn’t purple like her mother’s, but it was a light blue, almost as blue as the sky when she met her aunt and uncle.

“Yes?” The orc priest said.

The mother spoke, “Please, there is something wrong with this child. She must be cleansed. She must be devoted to Ninkilim.

The orc priest turned to the half elf, who was of teenaged years, “Do you wish to serve Ninkilim, and be free as he freed us all?”

“Yes,” she said. “I want to serve Ninkilim with everything in my heart. I want to embrace it.”

“Yes. By the love of Ninkilim, let us indoctrinate you further into his family, daughter,” he said, waving his hands. The musicians came out with an iron grate, and there were some inscriptions on the front of it, that much Alanna could tell, but she couldn’t tell which markings were what, let alone, what they meant. Perhaps her mother would clarify later. “Let us begin the ceremony, and what best way to celebrate after than this ritual! Bring out the hog!”

The musicians brought forth another table and set it beside the grate, which was lowered to the ground. She heard the barbaric squeal of a pig, being led by leather straps and iron rods. The pig came forth, to the crate. The musicians brought a blanket, padded well enough as the pig laid on it. After which, it was strapped firmly to it in leather bounds, the iron chains rattled as they lifted up the grate. The bed remained where it was, but the half-elf came and stood right next to it. The musicians turned and grabbed a large basin, which had water in it.

“Do you accept your freedom under Ninkilim’s love?” the priest said.

“I do,” she said.

“Then let it be done that you may enter into his divine presence,” he said. “Undress and be ashamed no more. Undress, and reveal to those around you the beauty Ninkilim has blessed you with. Undress, and reveal to Ninkilim the end of his magnificent work.”

The half elf undressed, and her skin was bare. The beautify of her skin was not one that which Alanna didn’t find unappealing, but for someone to undress out in the open, was unfathomable, or so she thought. Then again, she was still too young to understand any of this. The half elf twirled, showing the rest of the room everything, hiding nothing. Alanna noted that everyone seemed enthralled to see her like this.

“Lay on the bed,” the orc said.

And so, she did, bare and all. The cloth underneath her was draped over the bed, and it was pushed to be underneath the pig. The orc took his robe and rose it, allowing it to drape over the half elf as he inched closer and closer to her. His hands caressed her bare body, and the elf squealed, matching the squeals of the pig as the musicians took several knives and cut away at it. The blood and organs slipped through the grate and bathed the elf, squealing beneath the orc. The blood spilled onto the floor.

The orc let go of the elf, removing himself from her. The elf rose her legs to the sides, her arms spread wide as she danced in the blood for a moment before the blood-covered orc took her hand and led here to the basin of water. She slipped in and was dunked. She was in the water much longer than Alanna anticipated and when she came up, she was several shades darker than she was before, ad in fact, it was no mistake to say her mother and she, held the same dark purple pigmented skin.

“Praise be to Ninkilim, praise be to you,” he said. The musicians came to her, and caressed her skin as she was lifted out of the tub. The blood dripped off her body as she was gentle let to the floor. She smiled and danced, shouting many things in a language Alanna did not understand.

“When you’re old enough, Alanna,” her mother whispered in her ears. “I will dedicate you to Ninkilim. Would you like that?”

“No,” Alanna said, shaking her head. “Can we—”

“In time, you will understand,” her mother said.

“Can we go?”

“Yes, but first,” she said, kneeling down to her daughter. “I love you. Do you love me.”

“I love you,” Alanna said, but she didn’t know what the phrase meant. But she couldn’t help but to contrast the difference to when her aunt Krilla said it to her. It was warm, and soft, and filled with a passion. Her mother, spoke if often, and while it wasn’t really cold or discontent, it was filled with mundane thought.

“Merila!” said the ashen skinned dark elf that was touching her shoulder. “Where have you been, it’s been quite some time?”

Her mother turned immediately to the dark elf behind her. Smiling, she reached forward and kissed the dark elf on the lips passionately. Alanna looked around and there were many other people in the room of various races and many differing interactions from the simplistic casual thought as they walked together down the aisle between the pews, and the more intimate groping that her mother was currently engaged in.

“Yes, Gloth,” she said. “It’s been a time, and many moons, must I say, you look fine as ever.”

“That I am, thanks to Ninkilim,” he said, his voice also warm. “Have you met my children yet? Here.” The elf brought forth few children sitting next to him. These elves were just as dark as he was. “Please meet my eldest daughter, Greckta, and her brother Sloth.”

“Oh, is their mother around?” Merila asked.

“Nay,” he said, not sounding too said. “She succumbed to the plague last fall. So, where have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been moving around a lot,” she answered.

Alanna looked at the two dark elves before her, and they smiled, though not speaking yet, as they were waiting for their father to usher them out of this building. At last, the older sister, Greckta, came to her and said, “Doubts have that to how long this conversation will end, want to play tag?”

“Tag?” Alanna asked, tilting her head.

“Tag,” she clarified. “ ‘tis a game where I chase you, and then, I touch you. Then you chase us. The person you touch then chases the rest of us.”

“I’ve never played games before,” she said.

“Well, won’t this be fun,” she traded a glance with her brother.

“Why’s your skin white?” Sloth asked.

“Don’t be so rude,” Greckta slapped him at the side of the head. He winced, hissing through his teeth. “What’s your name?”

“Alanna,” she asked, wondering if the boy was okay.

“Nice to meet you, let’s go!”

Greckta took her hand and pulled her out from the pews and they ran off outside. The cobblestoned streets were brimming with excitement as people were running around doing whatever it was that people did after a service to celebrate Ninkilim. Nothing of note except she did note the sound of a number of people squealing from inside the temple, much like the blue-skinned elf was towards the altar. The three of them ran into a courtyard. Symmetrical was it, with run down trees with hardly any leaves on them, some bristly bushes. There were some high walls around the perimeter of the ground, and some other children.

“Now, remember, Alanna, the point of the game is not to be caught,” she said. “Don’t get touched by me. I’ll give you a head start. Sloth,” she turned to her brother, still rubbing his ear. “Show her how it’s done.”

Sloth strode off to the other side of the courtyard with long strides. The light was still bright to which she could see him, making faces, sticking his tongue out. Both hands stuck their thumbs in his ears, and his fingers pointed outwards like they were antlers. “Nah, nah, nah, nah, you can’t catch me!” Greckta dashed to chase him. She vaulted over one of the walls, sliding on the stones. Sloth dashed away, barely escaping his sister’s touch, but with a few more strides, and some vaulting over the high rises, she caught him, and touched his shoulder.

“See, real easy!” Greckta waved to her. “Now, it’s Sloth’s turn to chase! It’s fun.”

Greckta immediately dashed away as Sloth tried too touch her with no success. He chased and ran after her and his sister dashed to grow closer to Alanna, who bit her teeth as she ran as fast as she could. Not entirely used to running, she felt a soreness in her legs immediately and Greckta passed her. She felt a touch on her side, turning immediately, Sloth had tagged her ribs. He turned and swiftly dashed. It was her turn.

She tried running after him, being considerable slower than his sister, but no less agile. He vaulted over the wall. She tried but couldn’t force her body to do it with the hesitation as her chest slammed into the rock wall. She ran around the wall, and the two siblings went to one of the walls over the perimeter. Alanna broke off into a sprint, but before she could reach them, they climbed over the wall, and she could no longer see them.

She mimicked their movements and made her way over the wall, falling on the other side. She slipped, her foot splashing in thick fluids. Tripping on the ground, her buttocks was wet as she slipped, finding herself in a pool. The smell was putrid, worse thing she ever saw, and she looked up, seeing the two siblings look at her from afar. They didn’t slip. Greckta pointed across this pool, and Alanna beheld in the direction of the pointed finger, a shore of sorts, and some flame lit torches. For some unfathomable reason, this place was darker than the rest of the land of the temple.

She stood up, feeling the grime of the fluid seep into her boots. Her ears picked up the sound of flies buzzing as she took each step, and she noted that her feet were so heavy, they felt like rocks had been chained to them. Using her arms, she hooked behind the knee to assist her in moving, as her legs were shin-deep in water. She grimaced at the stench and noted several shapes in the fluid. She tripped, grabbing hold of something like a bar, slimy though it was, she nearly struck her head against it. Grimacing even further, she looked closer at it, and realized she was looking at the carcass of a cow.

She gasped, and stepped away, turning around, and looked closely at the shapes in the fluid, though, colorless, it now seemed. These shapes resembled animals of many distinct kinds. This was a butcher’s depository. Pushing herself and ignoring the signs in the blood and muck and other animalistic secretions she was in, she made it to the shore, carefully looking this way and that for any sign of danger.

Seeing none, she pulled herself up on the stone, here knee felt like it was going to shatter when she touched it. Seeing the torches lighting up the ways through various buildings thought abandoned, she scurried as fast as she could down one alleyway. Her footsteps echoed off the rock walls of the buildings. Looking up, she was under a blanket of darkness, though, she understood not why. It wasn’t past noon? Was it?

The narrow alley got longer and narrower the further she went down it. An unknown time past, and she wondered for how long she’d run, alone in the dark, and she was frightened, fists clenching as she ran. Dashing down this corridor, she found herself in an opening with more random, obscure, and abandoned buildings to which several alleyways were, scattering in different directions for unknown lengths of time. Such was the way here, she understood, and she dared not take another step as she went in the center of it and stood upon a rock.

“Greckta! Sloth!” She cried out. “I’m lost. Where are you?”

She cried again until her voice was hoarse. She sat on the stone and covered her face with her hands as warm tears strolled down her cheek. Sobbing in the dark, she realized she was alone. Her mother didn’t know she’d gone. She was so stupid for not telling her where she went. She would be worried for her, would she not? She said she loved her, whatever that means.

But some time had passed, and no one dared come for her. No mother. No Sloth nor Greckta. No one. Her stomach growled and she put her hand on her belly. Her head jerked, looking this way and that as she searched for something to eat. There was the meat in the depository, but she dared not touch that, not wanting to bath in blood again. But in the stillness in the air, there was a voice coming to her from on high, but she recognized not the words spoke. Her head tilted so she could look up at the dark sky, and there was a flame, a small one, floating down towards her. Unlike all other flames she’d seen, however, it illumined a yellow light. Her hand stretched out as it touched here palm, and she closed her hand over it, clutching it close to her chest. May not have satisfied her hunger, but the warmth was pleasant, and dared she suggest it was of the same warmth her auntie and uncle had.

And there was something else that happened, to which one did not intend. A lump of bread fell from thee sky, striking her in the head. It tossed and landed securely on a fairly clean rock. Alanna rubbed her head as she stretched down, and heard the scurrying of rats beneath, and one white rat with pink eyes came out, took the bread before she could catch it. She fell forward, and the flame remained in her palm as the rat sprinted to one of the alleys with the bread.

She sprinted to run for the rat, and the bread. It escaped underneath a wooden fence. She, without hesitation, vaulted over it, in much the same dauntlessness Sloth and Greckta had for their surroundings. But the rat did not relent, and scurried up a hill, of which, she followed. The flame in her hand lit the way down dark corridors until the rising earth brought her to a hovel that was familiar. Her own home it was. The rat scurried into the house, dropping the bread at the base of the doorway. Kneeling down, she took the bread in her face, and consumed it. The rat was nowhere to be seen, and the flame died out.

Stepping quietly into her home, the floorboards creaked. She turned around, and the light from a torch outside shone just enough for her to see the number of scattered scratched and broken bottles, glass glittering in the dim light over the floor. She walked carefully up the stairs to her room, and the opposite end of it, she heard muffled squeals coming from the other end of the room, and slowly stopped as she shut her door. Panting, relieved, and unknowing how many days it had been, or if it was simply, wherever she was, time moved differently than what she was used to; she was looking forward to some rest, after being abandoned.

She took her covers over her, slipping underneath the bed. Almost asleep, the door opened, and a light of a candle lit the room. She rubbed her eyes, bending over forward to see who had stopped her from resting, and it was her mother, holding a ceramic plate with a candle lit. She was draped with a wrinkly yellow blanket. A smile shown upon her face, and she walked forward, sitting on the bed. One hand brushed the hair from Alanna’s face.

“You’re home,” she said. “I was so worried.”

“Yes,” she said. “Mother, I’m home.”

“Someday,” she said. “You’ll understand. I love you.”

An odd choice of words, Alanna had to admit, another phrase she didn’t understand. And she didn’t understand what her mother was doing in the other room, or why she did that instead of looking for her, lost and alone. Delivered, and saved by a rat, a miscellaneous flame, and a warmth that she wanted, a warmth that she craved, a warmth that now had died.

Her mother left her to sleep. Alanna turned, the pillow raising her head off the hard surface, she looked at the wall, and the hue of the light faded. She heard a door slam shut, and then open again. The candlelight went out, and all she could hear were the groans and squeals from her mother’s room. She turned, and went to her door, closed it, and returned back to sleep. The noise was muffled, but she could ignore it, and her eyelids lazily dropped down below her eyes, and she might have rest and hopefully, not have to go through that ever again, or at least, better equipped to handle such uncertainty. She did not notice the light from the Book illumine the room, or the soft noise it made as she dozed off to sleep.

#drow dnd #wizards of the coast #dungeonsanddragons

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