Mar'dei slapped the child again, silencing her long enough to finish binding her to the altar. Allidar looked on from his usual corner, his face vacant of emotion. There was nothing left to feel anymore. He had seen countless children, women, and elders strapped to the table and sacrificed to his father's own selfish desires, ending their happy lives in the most gruesome ways possible. The way Mar'dei went about it infuriated Alli; he seemed to genuinely enjoy flaying people alive, letting their blood wash over the altar, staining his shoes before dribbling through the drain in the floor. There, it would fill a basin even deeper in the basement, coagulating into a thick, putrid substance to further fuel Mar'dei's quest for immortality.



Alli bowed his head as his father began reciting his ritual, opening the child's soul up in order to bind her livelihood to his own. He had heard it many times, but had only spoken out once against it. The slightest utterance of disapproval had gotten Allidar strapped to the table instead, his father going through the ritual up until the time to kill the victim. It had left a deep impression on him as a child, filling him with fear for months afterward, but Allidar was a man now. He had grown tired of watching his father fruitlessly grasp for what he could never have, destroying lives as he marched toward his own demise.



The damage Mar'dei had done to the villagers was bad enough, but the fact that he performed such twisted rites with that sword in particular brought Alli's blood to a steady boil. Years ago, back when the madness had started, Mar'dei had managed to bring two gods to their knees: Tenebraun, the god of darkness and Uzhkadda, the goddess of light were no more. Their power resided in Mar'dei, fueling him further towards his goals. Tonara, his wife, had spoken out against such horrors, pleading with her husband to free the gods' spirits and end it right then and there. If only he had listened. If only she hadn't spoken out. If only he hadn't had the power to take away her body, her very existence, reducing her to a sword with which he proceeded to carve up children. The sword was beautiful, bearing the likeness of Tonara, but even as little more than a hilt decoration, her pain was etched across her face, her eyes closed from the horrors that she would unwillingly commit. Mar'dei's sick sense of humor about it all had led him to carve a binding rune into her to promote their everlasting partnership.



"What… No!" Allidar's gaze snapped up, catching sight of his father desperately trying to plunge the blade into the child's stomach. Somehow, no matter how hard he tried to shove the blade's point down, a force met him and pushed back. The blade was a hair's width from the child's skin, trembling as it resisted taking another life. Allidar stepped forward, watching his father struggle. Mar'dei looked to him, his jaw tight. "Allidar! Assist me, damnit!"



Allidar stepped over cautiously, watching the sword carefully. There was no hidden string to the ceiling, no hand pushing back on it. The sword itself was fighting back. His mother, even in her prison, had finally had enough. The ritual circle began to pulsate, eagerly awaiting its offering. Alli looked again to his father, gazing into those crazed eyes. He knew Mar'dei wanted nothing more than for his son to carry on should he fail. He had been chosen to be his father's heir; his younger brother Tei had proven too gentle and too free-spirited. Alli had managed to spirit his brother away to keep him from harm, sending him to parts unknown with a knapsack of food and money. The elder brother had stayed behind to keep an eye on their father, aching for the opportunity to end the shame of their family.



Such an opportunity had finally presented itself. Allidar wrapped his fingers around the blade, nodding to his father. "Of course." With a quick shove, Mar'dei's pushing was turned against him, sending the blade straight through his stomach. His eyes widened and his brows knitted furiously, glaring at his son.



"You… YOU!" Dark flames grew in his hands, lashing out into the air. Alli took hold of the sword's hilt, yanking it out. Blood spilled across the ritual circle. It was done. All of a sudden, the circle's lines leapt from the floor, surging into Mar'dei's wound and tearing him apart from the inside. "Nh-no!" Mar'dei fell to his knees, yanked every direction by the lines as the prepared magic feasted upon him. Alli dropped the sword, clapping his hands over the child's ears as his father let out one final, hellish scream, his innards stretching and snapping as though wild dogs had caught him. Despite the gruesome scene, Allidar couldn't look away. He had seen so many wrongfully killed. He had to finally see someone meet the ending they deserved.



The circle soon had had its fill, leaving Mar'dei a husk of cartilage and bones in a heap on the floor. Allidar uncovered the child's ears as the familiar sound of liquid dribbling into the drain began. He unfastened her straps, lifting her up from the altar. The poor girl had never had much of a chance; impoverished children disappeared often from the village. Her mother would have missed her. No one else would have. No search parties were seeking her. Alli set her down to stand on her own feet on the opposite side of the altar from his father's remains, kneeling down in front of her. "Are you alright?" The girl stared at him with wide blue eyes, her lip trembling, her whitish blond hair matted against her head, drenched in sweat. Alli sighed, wiping her brow gently. He couldn't blame her.



Mar'dei's remains stirred quietly as a wind began to rise up from the drain. The faint rattle of finger bones drew Allidar's attention and he slowly stood up, leaning over the altar to take a look. From the drain, a voice began to bubble up, echoing and distorting itself with its own repetitions. Alli strained to focus, trying to figure out the words being said in his father's voice.



"For my son--Tenebraun--your darkness--the eldest--my own blood--the strength--never to end--the light shall--never to leave this world--bind him--"



Black tendrils shot out from the drain, diving over the altar to burrow into Allidar's chest. The young man stumbled back, clutching his chest tightly as the burning sensation spread through his blood, setting his heart aflame. The little girl cried out, backing up from the spectacle as he struggled to find his footing. As the burning shadows blazed through his body, they touched on every nerve, twisting together through his spine and into his head. A terrible voice overtook him, shouting to him and causing his eardrums to tremble.



"FOR EVERY INNOCENT SLAIN WITH MY POWER, A HUNDRED LIFETIMES OF JUSTICE MUST BE REPAID."



Alli could do little but nod weakly to the voice, falling to his knees with his head resting against the altar, his hands still grasping at his chest. Through his shirt, he felt a festering wound, writhing as the last shadows wormed their way into him. The child backed up from him, looking away from the stricken man. Her eyes met only his father's lifeless form, a sight she could never have prepared for. The girl staggered slightly, falling to the floor unconscious.



- + -



The memory remained fresh as ever in Allidar's mind as he trudged through the snow, leaving his father's dungeon and keep behind. Despite the steps he took, it was as though he was still there, still waiting for the pain in his heart to subside. The sword on his belt and the cloak-wrapped child in his arms were all he cared to bring back from that horrid place, allowing the north circle's unforgiving wind to blast away the putrid scent of blood from his body.



The little girl shivered against him. Her village was not far, merely a short walk from the keep. It was so convenient for his father. He never had to make an entrance on a horse, just cloak himself like any other traveler and meander into the village through the pines surrounding it. Such a simple matter to pluck a child from her walk home or knock out an old woman as she traversed the streets. Alli bowed his head against the wind, pressing his mouth to the child's wrappings to warm her with his breath. Soon, the memory of anything his father had done would become fluid and dreamlike, impossible to remember the details of it but knowing it had happened. The pain would go away as the mothers eventually died off, their children forgotten as their tombstones were planted in the ground.



Alli lifted a gloved fist and knocked on the door in front of him, waiting only a second before the girl's mother threw the door open, desperate for word of her child. He wordlessly held the girl out to her, barely able to hear the mother's gasp as the wind howled against his ears. He bowed his head, his ears going numb as she poured out her gratitude and bewilderment. The evening had exhausted him. Muttering his assurance that the task had been no trouble at all, he turned and walked on down the road. There was a small inn in this village, a place he could sleep that didn't remind him of torture and sadness. The thought of such a place seemed alien, but his conscience assured him it could exist.



The hour was late. The inn was already locked up for the night, but after a few tries at the door, the innkeeper eventually came over, kindly allowing Alli inside. Alli handed over his coin purse, not bothering to count out the amount required, and followed the innkeeper to his room. He thanked the man for his assistance, closing the door and locking it behind himself. The sight of the bed was a welcome one. Alli ambled towards it, his skin starting to thaw in the warm space. As the edge of the mattress met his knee, he fell upon it, falling asleep immediately. It had been enough for one day.