Post by Christophe Legard nó Shahrizai on Nov 3, 2008 23:50:32 GMT -5
I went to Trinette first. She listened to my story and then shook her head. I looked away, unable to stand the idea that I was letting her down. It was bad enough that I was letting the love of my life down.
I didn't sleep that night, couldn't relax enough to let go. There were dark circles beneath my eyes when I rose and saddled my gelding Kaffee, a gift from her. From before our happiness disappeared. I saddled him up and headed for Kushiel's temple.
I was in this daze as I made my way into the sanctuary, and was stripped and lashed in place. It wasn't until the whip descended in a line of flashing pain that I roused, whimpering as I looked up at the dark god's brooding features. Over and over the lash came down, and my sobbing hitched with every blow.
I didn't notice when they stopped, only when I heard a voice, muffled by the bronze mask, tone out, "Pray Christophe."
"I'm sorry. Oh gods, Kushiel, please." My voice was ragged as my back burned.
But the pain was nothing compared to the wash of salt water that was poured over my wounds. My back arched and I screamed, nothing but the blinding flash of pain filling me. When the pain released me I was pure and clean, collapsing against my bonds. Hands held me and eased me down to the cold stone floor.
It was some time later when I walked out of the temple. I was stopped at the door by one of the faceless priests. "I'm sorry, my brother got carried away. That would have broken most."
I rolled my shoulders, uselessly trying to settle my shirt more comfortably against my wounds. "It was needed."
The priest shook his or her head and let me pass. I headed home to get directions to Mala's hunting lodge.
I didn't sleep that night, couldn't relax enough to let go. There were dark circles beneath my eyes when I rose and saddled my gelding Kaffee, a gift from her. From before our happiness disappeared. I saddled him up and headed for Kushiel's temple.
I was in this daze as I made my way into the sanctuary, and was stripped and lashed in place. It wasn't until the whip descended in a line of flashing pain that I roused, whimpering as I looked up at the dark god's brooding features. Over and over the lash came down, and my sobbing hitched with every blow.
I didn't notice when they stopped, only when I heard a voice, muffled by the bronze mask, tone out, "Pray Christophe."
"I'm sorry. Oh gods, Kushiel, please." My voice was ragged as my back burned.
But the pain was nothing compared to the wash of salt water that was poured over my wounds. My back arched and I screamed, nothing but the blinding flash of pain filling me. When the pain released me I was pure and clean, collapsing against my bonds. Hands held me and eased me down to the cold stone floor.
It was some time later when I walked out of the temple. I was stopped at the door by one of the faceless priests. "I'm sorry, my brother got carried away. That would have broken most."
I rolled my shoulders, uselessly trying to settle my shirt more comfortably against my wounds. "It was needed."
The priest shook his or her head and let me pass. I headed home to get directions to Mala's hunting lodge.