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 The Trickster

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Cakeaunoob
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PostSubject: The Trickster   Tue Apr 15 2014, 18:51

Obviously a work in progress. Initially posted on Eldar Resplendent, I'll be updating it on there more often. It's in random little chunks as I'm rather inexperienced with writing so I just write and post as ideas occur to me. Comments and constructive criticism are welcome!
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Prologue
Trapped. What vile corruption is this, hanging about the neck of this foul daemon? How I long for the infinity circuit; how could I warn the others when I am confined so? What could I do but watch this cruel impersonation as it turned the young from their paths? I try hard to remember life, but in death the memories become clouded. To my eternal shame I often dream that I am not watching the actions of this chaotic filth, but myself driving this once great Craftworld into the clutches of She Who Thirsts. I fear its plans will soon bear fruit...
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I cannot sleep. Two days have passed since the future went dark. I am anxious, yet I do not believe that the anxiety is what prevents my slumber; something is wrong on this ship. Or rather, something wrong is on this ship. When I do sleep, I wake in fear. I swear I see things in the shadows and I am forced to light my chamber like a mon'keigh infant.

I try to comfort myself, I remind myself that the mission went well, that we shall return to the craftworld within days and I shall be back in the delightful company of Vaelyss, but nothing seems to alleviate my insomnia.

I wake suddenly. My terror is so great that I do not have time enough to light a lamp, but throw orbs of light across the room to illuminate the shadows. I shiver with fright as I look around the chamber, I had been so sure of a presence in the dark. Eventually I calm myself and settle back down in my bed, but I cannot bring myself to snuff the lights. After some time I return to my slumber. I dream feverish nightmares of daemons, tales of The Fall, and my beloved Scriosta an empty shell, inhabited only by the corpses of its children. I awaken again, but it is no release from the nightmare, as I am woken by the sharp cold of a blade piercing my chest and I choke as my lifeblood drains from my body. I try to call out but a claw already holds my mouth closed. I force myself to look my killer in the eyes and find an ever-changing face. It moves through the borrowed visages of the others aboard the ship, those I had known at home on Scriosta, and finally settles upon my own image. I draw my last breath looking into my stolen eyes.
---
It treats my body with surprising respect. Gently, it cleans my bloodstained flesh and my- its pale hands of my blood. The brown rags that had served as its robes fall to the floor and underneath is no longer the twisted daemonic form, but my own body. White hair cascades over alabaster shoulders, reaching my- its waist. My perfect double, save for the fatal wound under my sternum. It cradles the face of my corpse and gently kisses its forehead before crossing my chamber to don my regular attire. It examines its new body in my mirror, muttering something sad about how few limbs my form posesses before turning back to my corpse. It strokes the cold cheek, pensive, before taking my delicate gold chain. It slips the chain over its head, tucking the newly-filled spirit stone into the neck of its robes, out of sight and nestled between its breasts.
The next few hours are difficult to fathom. It gathers up my corpse and crosses into some other plane where it is greeted by a cluster of filthy creatures with claws for limbs. One particularly foul being even has a third claw in place of a head. They speak with the creature in some language unknown to myself, but the hostility is palpable. After some time, the daemon hands over my corpse and leaves, returning to my chamber on the ship. I have no idea how much time has passed but I am aware of the other eldar moving about the ship.
Home, Scriosta. In my voice, the daemon bids farewell to the others. Without hesitation it walks to my abode, greeting those I know by name. How long had this creature studied me to now mimic my habits without flaw? As it nears my home, I suddenly know that this creature's plan is doomed to fail. Vaelyss knows me better than any other, he will see through this imposter. I am comforted that whatever horrors it had planned for my craftworld will not come to pass.
It enters my home, leaving what few posessions I had taken with me at the door and walks into the living quarters. Vaelyss is there and I am sure that now he will realise and be able to do something to stop this insidious being. He looks up and smiles as he greets me. "Welcome home, Athyenne." He moves to embrace me, and there is no distrust upon his face; only his affection and loyalty that I have always known. He is unaware of the deception.
---
In death I dream the fates I could have chosen in life, all the countless ways that this daemon could have been avoided. In one thread of thought I know that had I not trod the path of the seer, a daughter would have been born to Vaelyss and I. She would be headstrong and troublesome, eventually abandoning Scriosta for the life of a wanderer. She would return after some time, with a vast knowledge to temper her unruliness. I would never have become host to this daemon and Scriosta would have continued on its course without interruption.
In another thread, I know that had I refused the opportunity to accompany the warriors, I would have remained permanently on Scriosta, ultimately allowing my body to become completely dormant. Vaelyss would mourn the loss, nearly losing himself upon the path of grief.
My mind feels corrupted by the daemon. I know things with such terrible clarity, things I should not know. And yet when I try to focus upon the present, the machinations of the Changeling, I am practically blind. Nevertheless, I know its mind. I feel the pull of its master. I know the desire for change, to alter and choose destinies. Perhaps it is not so abhorrent a being after all.
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I have lost all perception of how long the Changeling and I have been one. I now think with its mind more often than I do my own, loving and trusting Tzeentch, safe in the knowledge that all that shall pass must be, for Scriosta is merely a moment in the Great Plan, yet all moments have great significance.
I now understand that the duties that I performed as a farseer were truly acts of worship to the Architect of Fate, though diluted a thousand times and more. My moments of falling back into my own mind have become few and far between, and each time are tainted more and more with the clarity that I have discovered through this daemon. I both fear and relish the time when I know I will become fully His creature, though I loathe what must happen before then.
Already, our plot gestates. Many and more younglings of the craftworld have begun to feel the unrest planted in their minds by myself- ah, that is to say, the Changeling. My old self is torn; I now know the Changeling’s plan. The creatures that hold my body belong to She Who Thirsts, and I now know what they bargained for. Though I know this must happen, I feel less than hollow when I think of it.
---


Last edited by Cakeaunoob on Thu Jul 03 2014, 12:21; edited 2 times in total
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Barking Agatha
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PostSubject: Re: The Trickster   Tue Apr 15 2014, 19:29

Very nice! First-person narrative is difficult to pull off well.
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Lady Malys
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PostSubject: Re: The Trickster   Tue Apr 15 2014, 23:38

Good to see this here! Smile

I feel so sorry for your poor Farseer - the narrative really tugs at my emotions! For me you have hit the right note of formality and desperation. I look forward to reading more!

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Cakeaunoob
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PostSubject: Re: The Trickster   Wed Apr 16 2014, 20:44

Thank ye. Smile
The sketch of the murder scene that I posted on ER is here
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Lord_Alino
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PostSubject: Re: The Trickster   Sun Apr 20 2014, 03:22

That was interesting, I really enjoyed it. I don't read First-Person stories that much, let alone try writing them. Anyways, can't wait for more Very Happy
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Mngwa
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PostSubject: Re: The Trickster   Mon Apr 21 2014, 12:46

Whev, that one part really sent some chills down my spine! pale 
Quote :
I awaken again, but it is no release from the nightmare, as I am woken by the sharp cold of a blade piercing my chest and I choke as my lifeblood drains from my body. I try to call out but a claw already holds my mouth closed.
You heard of two-sentence horror stories? This could work on them!  Smile 

Also, thank you for reminding me of that forum ^^
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Cakeaunoob
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PostSubject: Re: The Trickster   Mon Apr 21 2014, 17:24

Thanks. Smile
I love two-sentence horror stories!
And no problem, it needs a bit more traffic!
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Cakeaunoob
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PostSubject: Re: The Trickster   Thu Apr 24 2014, 01:38

Updated the first post to include the last installment posted on Eldar Resplendent.
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Cakeaunoob
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PostSubject: Re: The Trickster   Thu Jul 03 2014, 12:22

First post updated again to include the last installment. The plot thickens!
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Lady Malys
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PostSubject: Re: The Trickster   Thu Jul 03 2014, 22:03

It does! Good to see more Very Happy

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