Vilmah
08-31-2006, 12:52 PM
Vilmah tossed and turned.
In her dreams, she was walking down a dark road leading nowhere. She could hear her own voice asking questions.
“Why did you let them do that?”
“Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea…”
“You know it was!”
And she did.
Earlier that evening, Niethan turned to her with a different voice. Once again, Witness spoke through Niethan, giving Vilmah advice and helping her to fix her “little problem”. She’d fallen asleep at his suggestion, and the two met in her dreams.
“You look different,” she said when she saw Witness.
He was like Niethan’s twin, but paler.
He gave her advice on her dreams, and she created a landscape that was soothing. Durotar, the home she knew most of her life. Witness told her to imagine a place she’d put the darker side of herself… and there she was. In a metal cage, wearing little besides a black leather thong and begging to be set free.
“Don’t let him get rid of me, Vilmah!” Wrath shouted, her orc features contorting in rage. “You need me!!”
Vilmah made a tough decision. To destroy her past and remain a child, or embrace her memories and become whole. It was not an easy decision. She kept her eyes closed as Witness freed Wrath, and Wrath put her lips to Vilmah’s.
All at once, there were a torrent of voices. Memories flooded into Vilmah’s mind. She remembered her mother, she remembered her father, but mostly she remembered her forgotten childhood. Those distant memories that made her feel filthy. Those disgusting thoughts who’s truth made Vilmah calm with despair.
“Gods, Vilmah,” Niethan said in shock. “What did Witness do ta ya?”
She’d given Niethan her explanation as to why she enjoyed knitting so. It was once a reward. A reward, or payment rather, for the innocence that was ripped from her in Hammerfall.
“Can’t do much with her,” said a human soldier, as he lay back and watched the tiny orc child do his bidding. “Her crazy father might go into berzerker mode if he finds out.”
“We’ll make an excuse then,” another soldier suggested. “Tell ‘em your wife is teachin’ her ta sew.”
She couldn’t comprehend what she was doing, so young. She thought that doing the soldiers’ bidding was the right thing, and indeed, her family did not question it more than once.
“I don’t like it,” her father muttered.
Her mother sighed, as she watched the soldiers lead their child to a soldier’s encampment. “What choice do we have?”
Gor’mul was suspicious, but the lethargy of their imprisonment had taken it’s toll. “At least they won’t hurt her.”
“Not physically, anyway,” Vilmah found herself muttering. Atop Edmund, she still felt cold and alone. The humiliating acts forced upon her at such a young age filled her with so much anger, it could only be shown with tears. And in fact, there was so much anger in hr heart that they didn’t seem to end. They ran from her eyes like an unstoppable flood, until she was screaming in rage at the moon.
“Why??” She said, finally. Vilmah dismounted Edmund, and found a tree to lean upon. Edmund curled up next to her, trying to give the tiny orc some comfort, but she didn’t even see him. It was as if everything she’d grown to become, came crashing down with a realization of the past. A sickening, twisted collection of memories that nobody should be forced to keep.
Why indeed..
In her dreams, she was walking down a dark road leading nowhere. She could hear her own voice asking questions.
“Why did you let them do that?”
“Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea…”
“You know it was!”
And she did.
Earlier that evening, Niethan turned to her with a different voice. Once again, Witness spoke through Niethan, giving Vilmah advice and helping her to fix her “little problem”. She’d fallen asleep at his suggestion, and the two met in her dreams.
“You look different,” she said when she saw Witness.
He was like Niethan’s twin, but paler.
He gave her advice on her dreams, and she created a landscape that was soothing. Durotar, the home she knew most of her life. Witness told her to imagine a place she’d put the darker side of herself… and there she was. In a metal cage, wearing little besides a black leather thong and begging to be set free.
“Don’t let him get rid of me, Vilmah!” Wrath shouted, her orc features contorting in rage. “You need me!!”
Vilmah made a tough decision. To destroy her past and remain a child, or embrace her memories and become whole. It was not an easy decision. She kept her eyes closed as Witness freed Wrath, and Wrath put her lips to Vilmah’s.
All at once, there were a torrent of voices. Memories flooded into Vilmah’s mind. She remembered her mother, she remembered her father, but mostly she remembered her forgotten childhood. Those distant memories that made her feel filthy. Those disgusting thoughts who’s truth made Vilmah calm with despair.
“Gods, Vilmah,” Niethan said in shock. “What did Witness do ta ya?”
She’d given Niethan her explanation as to why she enjoyed knitting so. It was once a reward. A reward, or payment rather, for the innocence that was ripped from her in Hammerfall.
“Can’t do much with her,” said a human soldier, as he lay back and watched the tiny orc child do his bidding. “Her crazy father might go into berzerker mode if he finds out.”
“We’ll make an excuse then,” another soldier suggested. “Tell ‘em your wife is teachin’ her ta sew.”
She couldn’t comprehend what she was doing, so young. She thought that doing the soldiers’ bidding was the right thing, and indeed, her family did not question it more than once.
“I don’t like it,” her father muttered.
Her mother sighed, as she watched the soldiers lead their child to a soldier’s encampment. “What choice do we have?”
Gor’mul was suspicious, but the lethargy of their imprisonment had taken it’s toll. “At least they won’t hurt her.”
“Not physically, anyway,” Vilmah found herself muttering. Atop Edmund, she still felt cold and alone. The humiliating acts forced upon her at such a young age filled her with so much anger, it could only be shown with tears. And in fact, there was so much anger in hr heart that they didn’t seem to end. They ran from her eyes like an unstoppable flood, until she was screaming in rage at the moon.
“Why??” She said, finally. Vilmah dismounted Edmund, and found a tree to lean upon. Edmund curled up next to her, trying to give the tiny orc some comfort, but she didn’t even see him. It was as if everything she’d grown to become, came crashing down with a realization of the past. A sickening, twisted collection of memories that nobody should be forced to keep.
Why indeed..