A Daughter's Curse

{{Fiction
 * author=Laura Scott;
 * hasSetting=Larisnar
 * summary=Selene, the child of Master Isil Loth's youthful passion, returns to him, bearing the memory of her long-mourned mother and promises of immortality
 * storyBody====Myreth Forest, 969===

"That's it, just a little bit longer. You can do it, Sulwyn."

"I can't Navdai. I'm just too tired."

"You must; now push."

"As you wish Navdai," Sulwyn said, gathering what was left of her strength. "Take good care of her for me, sister. I won't be along to see her come to greatness."

"Stop that talk. You'll be just fine. Once your daughter is here, your strength will return. She's just taking a lot out of you."

As the moon rose over the small camp, a soft cry was heard; a little girl born to a broken-hearted woman.

"Selene, that's what we'll call you; the opposite of your mother."

A shadow crossed the child's face and Navdai looked towards the sky. There she saw a truly rare sight, a dragon. "Rotwing?" she whispered, unsure of her own vision.

Little Selene stopped crying and starting cooing at the darkness covering the light.

Myreth Forest, 979
"I still do not understand why mine emperor deemed it necessary to station me in a war zone," Isil Loth muttered as he walked through the forest trying to find some peace and quiet. The wizard was out of sorts; every sound made him jump and his eyes darted from tree to tree as though he expected something horrible to strike at him at any moment.

"Lord Gahid certainly doth not need me in this Storm-forsaken place. His soldiers rush at dead and undead alike, leaving no time for the wizards to perform their spells."

Thus lost in his own thoughts, Master Loth meandered through Myerth Forest paying no attention to where he planted his feet. Around the old, tired necromancer escaped phon played in the air and birds slowly returned to their branches. The noise of battle faded further into the distance, until Isil realized he was nowhere near the Deverenian camp.

Delicate yellows and oranges flooded the sky as the sun began to set in the most beautiful land of Larisnar. Tree canopies filtered the light, causing it to reflect off fallen trees and bounce off the flowers that still grew in this place, despite all the chaos around them. Stars began to peak through spaces in the leaves bring a soft light to the dark that was Myreth.

The wind picked up and Isil shuddered. A night flower bloomed, expelling its spicy, warm fragrance in the air just as he took a deep breath. Looking up from his feet, Isil drunk everything in, memories flooded his brain causing him to sink to the ground as he remembered.

"Sulwyn's flower."

Thirteen years ago
A Deverenian camped in a forest clearing, alone and cold. A thin man with little strength and little knowledge of nature, he could not keep his fire lit. He had long given up on using a stone and flint and relied instead on his magic to keep warm, but every time he started to warm up, a sparkling wind put his hearth out.

"What shall I do?" the wizard bemoaned to no one in particular. "Each second the night gets colder and for each minute that passes I feel more and more cut off from mine own mind. This place is not natural. Their knowledge may be mine only hope, but I no not where to even begin."

A soft laugh echoed throughout the clearing. Isil all but jumped up in surprise. "Who ist there? I hear you. Come out, I beseech thee!"

"Worry not little man, I mean you no harm. I'm just not used to Deverenians sounding so hopeless." With a loud crackle the wood in front of Isil burst into flame revealing an elven woman in soft robes of silver and flowing black hair. She smiled.

"Lost, not hopeless elf," Isil replied stiffly. "What dost thou want?

Another laugh sounded. "Hold thy peace, Deverenian. I mean thee no embarrassment." The elf laughed at her own attempt at a Deverenian accent.

Isil stood tall, preparing to cast a spell.

"No, no. I am not laughing at you. I'm laughing at myself. I am sorry; speaking in Deverenian does not fit me I'm afraid. I was just trying to make you more comfortable. Please relax."

Isil smirked and smiled just a little. "I dost admit, mine accent from thine lips doth sound a bit…strange." He slowly sat back on the ground and motioned. "Please sit."

The woman twirled in the firelight, gliding closer to Isil's camp. Her robes danced in the night air reminding Isil of the ladies he had seen at court. By the time the elf lighted on the ground, he was smiling for real.

"Now," she whispered in a sweet voice. "Why is such a powerful wizard from the great Deverenia alone in Myreth forest? Does your nation plan to conquer us now, while we are at our weakest?"

Isil shook his head, a bit surprised by the lady's forthrightness. "No...”

"Sulwyn."

"No, Sulwyn. My journey is my own."

"And what do you search for..."

"Isil."

"And what do you search for Isil the Deverenian?"

"Eternal life," he stated, moving forward to whisper it in her ear.

"Is that all?" she giggled, shaking her head in amusement. "That's easy." Sulwyn plucked the flower tucked behind her ear and smelled it. "This," she said handing the delicate blossom to Isil, "is life eternal."

Isil breathed deeper than he ever had in his life. The fragrance would haunt him forever.

Myreth Forest, 979
"Still wandering around elven forests are you?"

The familiar voice woke Isil from his memories. "Sulwyn?" he questioned, not daring to look up.

"No," came the strong reply.

Still not rising from the ground, Isil dropped his face into his hands. "I knew it could not be, but still I hoped…"

"She is long dead. Killed by Syneri's geas, or a broken heart. Take your pick," replied the cold voice.

"But I..." Isil stammered.

Selene smacked the poor necromancer's hands away from his face. "No explanations Father. I care not for your reasons no matter how noble you think they are." She knelt before him and placed a flower underneath his nose. "I am your eternal life and now you will take me home."

Luthlarius, the month before the eclipse (981)
"Why doth that elf always follow him around?" a Deverenian chirguron whispered to his colleague as Isil Loth and Selene du Marguerite walked past him towards the Emperor's chambers.

"He hath some secret on her and as such she ist bound to be his slave until the end of her miserable days. I heareth that he makes the wretched creature sleep on the floor in a room even the servants refuse to stay."

The Emperor's chirguron heard nothing of the conversation, but he would have been pleased nonetheless. If it was known that he fathered a half-breed Loth would be dead. His daughter's ingenious plan to appear as his servant had worked for two years and he hoped it would work for many more to come.

Loth presented himself at the door of the Emperor's bedchamber with a slight nod to the guards. They immediately bowed and let the Master in.

The room was dark and cool, just as Vyacheslav wished. His eyes could no longer stand the light and his skin could no longer expel heat. His raspy breathing filled the otherwise silent space. The Emperor struggled for his life and only he and Isil knew just how desperate the battle was.

"Mine Emperor," Loth stated, nearing the bed and genuflecting to the ground.

"Enough Loth. We hath no time for this. Stand up." Vyacheslav commanded.

"Yes your Highness."

"How goeth your research? Hath you found any hope in mine old journals? Something I've forgotten? Vyacheslav struggled into a sitting position so he could look into Isil's face.

Isil knew better than to lie. The Emperor had an uncanny ability to see right through those, and slaughter people on the spot for trying.

"Nothing in thy journals your Majesty."

"There must be something!" Vyacheslav yelled. "One month. I only need one month. These potions of mine shall not last that long. They barely work for me to hold court once a week."

"I will find something Majesty."

THUD! THUMP! CRACK!

Isil Loth threw books left and right in his study not caring who or what they hit. Selene sat in a plush chair in the corner enjoying the scene.

"What shall I do? There ist NOTHING here. I have tired everything; all the tricks of Order Loth and all the magic of the elves. The Emperor will not live to see the ritual and if he dies they shall kill me too."

For the third time in his life Master Isil Loth fell to the floor, his head buried in his hands. "The knowledge of a thousand years and generations about generations at my fingertips and there is nothing new to try. There is no one else to ask."

Selene smirked, silently enjoying her father's pain. She rose with all the gracefulness her aunt taught her and walked to the necromancer's side. "I think have a solution," she began slowly, choosing her words to maximum effect. "There is something I know that I have never shared with you, but you have given me so much," she continued gesturing to all the tomes in the room and towards her hidden room full of comforts and beautiful things nearby, "that it is time I repay your kindness."

Isil Loth gazed into his daughter's face, seeing his adoring love, instead of the evil child they spawned. "Tell me."

"When I was a child my Aunt Navdai raised me. The geas had not ended but it did not matter, the Grey Elf did not believe in necromancy. She taught me many wonderful things about pure magic and sought to keep me away from your path. The more distain she displayed for you, the more I wanted to learn about you and your magic. One night, when I was about six I stole away from our house to walk in the forest. As I wandered I came across a cave I'd never seen before and inside was a dead dragon. At least I thought it was dead."

Selene stopped for a moment to catch her breath. "Come on father, keep going, not far now."

"The flesh was falling off the bones, but there was no odor," Selene continued. "Being the curious child I was, I walked closer."

`Selene, dearheart, a voice crooned. Come to me.'

"Unafraid I walked up to the undead dragon and sat between its paws. For the first time in my life, I felt as though I was where I belonged. The dragon's real name had been lost. Long ago he had been one of The Dragon's creatures but had died hundreds of years ago. An elf he no longer remembered brought him back to life using a mix of necromancy and healing magic. It is he I take you to see."

Isil walked in silence, unable to comprehend that his only child grew up talking to a dragon. An undead dragon at that! "Whatever you say daughter."

The pair reached an outcropping of rock with a hidden entrance and walked into the cave. In the center of the cavern was an enormous dragon. Pale white skin and soft flesh was all that Isil could see; the creature's wings appeared to have fallen off long ago.

"Isil Loth, father of my beloved disciple, welcome to my presence."

"Disciple?"

"Yes," the voice boomed. "She will give the elves eternal life. No more shall they have to suffer the pangs of short lifespans or the indignity of a half-life from necromancy. She studied your old tomes and the old papers of the Empire and found a way to free our people from the corrupted elements they are now connected to. As thanks, she asked me to help you with your greatest wish: eternal life for you and a 'cure' for your emperor."

"Thank you," Isil stated softly, bowing to the hideous creature. "What must I do?"

Rotwing moved further back into the cave, revealing a light and a golden bowl on an altar. "First we shall mix the potion for you, and then your emperor. Selene, bring your father to the altar."

Selene smiled at her unsteady father and twirled closer to him. "Come father," she said, taking his hand.

"You look so much like your mother when you do that," he laughed.

"Of course, I'm the best of you both," Selene giggled softly in her mother's voice.

"Fear not Master Isil Loth. While this shall hurt you both, it will heal in time."

Isil nodded.

Selene ripped the sleeve off her robe and threw it in the bowl. Isil followed her lead. Selene walked towards Rotwing and while chanting in elven motioned to her father to stay put. Her chants turned into a divine song, one that Isil didn't recognize. Smiling she cut a piece of flesh off the old dragon and threw it into the bowl. Dancing back towards the altar, still singing, Selene used the dagger on her own arm, cutting a large chunk of flesh onto the offering and letting her own blood pour in.

Isil, concerned, ran towards her daughter to heal the wound, but she just shook her head and handed him the dagger. The color drained out of her face as the bleeding slowed.

"Master Loth, please. Your daughter has given of her flesh to start this ritual for you. Do not let it be in vain."

Loth took the dagger and repeated Selene's movements. The moment his blood joined hers in the bowl a great field appeared around the altar, separating father and daughter from the entire living world. Selene's chant changed to Deverenian mixed with Elven. Isil recognized some of the words, lines from the death beyond death spell used on traitors to the empire; however, he was not worried. Interspaced was the most beautiful music, it reminded the necromancer of the pure joy he always felt at services at the Church and he was at peace.

The loss of blood and the beautiful chant lulled Isil into a trance. He was lost in the best memories of his life and did not notice Selene's change in chanting or the bloody potion being poured down his throat, but not hers.

"Selene?"

"Yes, father. I am here."

Isil opened his eyes and saw they were still in the cave. He stretched his limbs and maneuvered slowly to get off the cave's floor. The familiar creak of his bones was no longer there.

"What on..."

"The potion has rejuvenation properties too Master Loth," Rotwing bellowed. "It only works when there is a true bond between both participants; a bond that you and your daughter share."

Isil nodded slowly. "What about the Emperor?"

"His remedy is a bit different I'm afraid. We cannot grant him eternal life as there is no one who loves him as your daughter loves you."

Isil did not respond.

"There is someone very devoted to him and that may be close enough: You."

"I do not presume that I am the most devoted of mine Emperor's subjects but..."

"No matter," the dragon continued. "Brew a potion of regeneration, the same one you have been giving to your Emperor, but this time add in some drops of your eternal blood. It will not save his life, but it will significantly enhance the effects of the potion."

"I do not know how to thank thee, grand dragon."

"I have already told you, this is your reward. You have done enough."

"I knew if I let you keep the horrible slave of yours you would learn something useful from her," Vyacheslav said as Isil entered his bedchamber.

Isil bowed low. "Yes your Majesty. She divulged a long kept secret to me, an ingredient to add to your daily potion."

Vyacheslav stared hard at his personal chirguon. After a few moments he fell back against his pillows, satisfied. "Tested on yourself I see. To positive effect. Give it here."

Isil put the vial in the Emperor's hand and stepped back, graceful despite his age.

Vyacheslav strained to put the concoction to his lips, greedy to drink it as fast as possible. Again he fell back against his bed, a vile look on his face. "Disgusting Master Loth. Absolutely horrendous." He jumped onto the floor. "But perfect none-the-less."

Isil genuflected.

"Have your apprentices bring me this daily. You deserve a break. I will call when I need you."

Two weeks before the eclipse
"Daughter, I cannot remove myself from mine bed," Isil whispered, barely able to speak. "Is the Emperor alright?"

Selene flew to her father's side. "Yes, he's perfectly fine dear father."

Isil sighed with relief.

"It must be the first potion you took making you ill. I'll take you to Rotwing, maybe he can help us."

"I cannot walk."

"Sip this," Selene said, putting the Emperor's potion to her father's lips. "It will give you the strength to come with me.

Again the pair set out for the hidden cave just outside the city.

"Rotwing!" Selene yelled. "Help us. Something went wrong!"

Rotwing bellowed from the back of the cave, "place him on the mat you see there and I shall examine him."

Selene did as she was told and slowly knelt down next to her father. Rotwing moved his giant head down to Isil's other side. Selene took her father's head in her hands and again he saw the one true love of his life.

"Father, it is no mistake. The spell was just delayed. Mother loved you and you left her in the forest where you knew she would have to die. Deverenians and Humans alike left my people in the state we are in, living a few short years and then dying by the thousands."

"What?" Isil croaked. "Your mother was a good woman, she never..."

"I am not my mother. Your precious Emperor will die and you have caused it. Live with that."

A look of absolute horror spread over Isil's face.

"Not for long!" Rotwing replied as he brought his jaws down over Isil's head and bit him in two. }}