Siv continued choking, his vision swimming in and out of focus. The Mother was still staring at him, with those horrid, bright green eyes. Her three fingered hand still held the wicked implement she had used on his throat, scarlet with his blood.
His throat was on fire. It felt as if his whole body was thudding along with his heartbeat, all towards the grievous injury. The blood continued to poor out, but it seemed to be less than it should have been. That was odd. Siv felt he should already be dead. The man who had served as the mouthpiece of the Mother held the vial, gazing at it with hungry eyes.
Staring back at the Mother, Siv noticed as her vile gaze whip towards the slightly ajar door he had entered through earlier. A figure stood there now, tall and muscular. The silhouette covered the man's features, but Siv knew who it was.
Taln stood there, blood dripping from his hands. He looked nonplussed, despite the gruesome scene in front of him.
Walking forward, the chains on Taln's skin snaked their way down his forearms, covering it in pure black ink as they exuded an increasingly sinister aura. They began to manifest through his skin, wrapping his forearms as steam arose from the points of contact. The room was filled with the sickeningly savory scent of burned flesh, as the chains seemingly burned through Taln's arms. The chains were fully manifested now, pure black steel that seemingly drank in the light. They were thick, each link about two inches across.
Siv felt the cold grip of fear in his heart. Those chains promised death. Taln whipped his arm up, throwing the end of the chain straight towards Siv.. However, they flew over the top of the boy laying on the ground, traveling at lightning speed at the Mother.
In a flash of steel, the Mother was quickly bound by an impossible amount of chains. They wound their way around her whole figure, a slithering maelstrom of black steel that seemed to sing in pleasure. As Siv watched in horror, they constricted, sending floods of blood through the openings in the links. The chains revved up in their constriction, reveling in the bloodshed. After a couple seconds, the blood stopped and the chains melted away, reappearing on Taln's forearm.
The messenger looked at Taln, mouth agape.
"T-to come into this holy place, and destroy a sanctified Mother! You are a dog, a devil, I say!" The eyeless sycophant was enraged. At the same time, tears of blood came from his eyes. "You foul beast, Shrike! To kill one of your own, in your own faith's chapel! Your flesh will be feasted on by maggots! By all things profane!" Taln said nothing, and before either Siv or him could make a move, the sycophant drank the vial of Siv's blood, then lunged at the boy, who had fallen to the ground. With the gusto of a starving dog, the man bit into Siv's arm, which was holding his throat.
He ripped flesh from it, chewing as fast as he could. Siv tried to scream, but his slit windpipe made no noise. He kicked the man away from him.
Taln made a disgusted noise, then drew his longsword from his back and chopped the man's head off in one smooth motion. Disturbingly, blood continued to flow from the man's eyeballs and his mouth was curved in a foul smile. His scar tissue seemed to writhe under his skin, seemingly swelling up with an impossible amount of blood.
Siv had crawled away from the horrid scene. He would have vomited, if not for his throat. Taln sighed, and released his chains once more to bind the profane carcass from progressing. The chains seemed to be less enthusiastic about the head, but consumed it all the same.
The chamber was quiet. Siv's hands felt around his throat. The wound had clotted, and was stopped up now. How was that possible? The bloodflow had completely stopped at this point, and his body continued to throb, as his heart was working overtime.
"Up, boy." Taln seemed exhausted, with deep bags under his eyes. "We must leave this foul place."
Siv took the man's outstretched hand and let himself be hauled to his feet. "How-how am I alive?" His voice gargled up past the blood.
Taln gave him a heavy look. "Such is the nature of suffering. To die before you've lived would make you a poor disciple indeed." He turned around, expecting Siv to follow. His forearms were covered in nearly-healed burns.
...
It was morning now, and people had begun to filter out on the streets. They had exited through a back door of the chapel so as not to draw attention. The pale sun crept out from the clouds, causing Siv to blink away the light. His neck was largely healed now, but his already dirty shirt was covered in blood. Taln did not look much better-- the maelstrom of chains had thrown blood all about the room, spattering his clothing.. Taln turned around and looked him up and down, then gestured vaguely down the street. People covered their mouths as they passed them, horrified at the blood. Such a sight was not as uncommon as one might think, however. Many injured soldiers were sent to the North en masse, after fighting on the frontier.
They stopped in front of a dingy old shop with heavily fogged windows. Taln banged heavily on the door, waited a few seconds, then banged again. A small voice was heard from inside. "Hold on! We don't open for another hour!" As the man finished, he pulled the door open and nearly jumped out of his skin from the shock. "Gods, Taln, what the hell happened to you? You're covered in blood!" The astute man quickly gestured for them to come inside, looking around the alleyway to check if anyone saw them come in. He locked the door behind him.
Looking around, Siv's eyes quickly adjusted to the dim interior. It was a shop of curios, with various items being strewn about haphazardly on the shelves. He saw a cage with some sort of beady eyed six legged creature laying there, about the size of a large dog. The creature looked at him with strange intelligence. Next to the creature stood a shelf, with countless tomes that looked to be from ancient times and might crumble at the slightest touch.
"Boy." Taln called gruffly. Siv turned, to see Taln standing near a clothing rack. The tall man was perusing the selection, occasionally stopping to grab an item. Siv approached. "Take whatever clothes you want."
Siv's eyes grew wide. How long had it been since he'd been shopping for clothes? The ratty ones he'd worn had done him good, but with the blood and poor condition they surely would not last. He quickly moved to the clothing rack.
...
Once the boy skipped off with his chosen clothes to change, Taln turned towards the shopkeeper. He was a small man by the name of Quentin. They had known one another for years, and Quentin was one of the few men Taln trusted to keep a secret. Taln noted that Quentin was looking at him impatiently, waiting for an explanation.
"The boy was Marked. Took him to an inn, but the little devil ran off and got himself caught by the Sect." Taln said.
Quentin looked at him for a moment, then let out a hoarse laugh. "Hard to believe a child brought the Shrike out of his retirement. Why'd you let him escape in the first place?"
"I'm old, damn it. Didn't think the little weasel would do something like that. Got me while I was sleeping in an inn." Taln removed his shirt, revealing his impossibly flawless onyx skin. The chain tattoos, now stationary, were wound all around his exposed skin.
"Why'd you go to the trouble? What's with the kid?" Quentin was interested. It wasn't often that Taln bothered to leave his alcohol.
"He was marked. Was out at a bar, getting myself piss drunk when I felt it." Taln pulled a clean black shirt over his head after wiping himself down with a damp rag.
"Gods, he must be the first in..." Quentin said nothing more, knowing that it wasn't his business to pry. Taln heard a door click, and turned around to see the boy come from a dressing room.
...
Siv, with his back straight, walked out in his incredible new clothes. He was met by the stone cold gaze of Taln, and the slack jawed awe of the little man. He beamed, spreading his arms to show his wonderful new clothes.
He had picked out a pair of white woolen trousers with a questionable dark stain near the crotch, which were wonderfully comfortable- albeit a bit tight- as well as a wonderful frilly shirt with a rich sapphire collar that, in Siv's opinion, accentuated his eyes. The shirt had frills at the collar and the cuffs.
He held his pose, his arms outstretched and assumed a regal bearing. He doubted he had ever looked so good, and sure as hell had never felt so good.
"Take that shit off." Taln said, tossing a boring tunic and dark colored trousers to him. Siv scowled.
"Why? What's it matter to you?" Taln said nothing, fixing him with his steely eyes. Siv wondered if he would bind him up in his chains like he had done to those two psychopaths. Siv decided to acquiesce. This time.
When he returned, having more thoroughly washed the blood from his hair, body, and face, he was dressed more conservatively in comfortable, but considerably less stylish clothing. Taln nodded once. Quentin had gone back, and Taln gestured for Siv to take a seat across from him.
Siv scooted the chair away from the imposing man a bit, then sat. "Are you going to kill me?"
Taln looked at him. "No."
"What do you want from me? I saw how you looked at me, when I called on the Order Aspect and told you what it said. You looked at me like an honest man looks at a whore. Like Roach used to look at his, well, roaches." Siv said. He decided there wasn't much he could do about his current situation, as Taln seemed to be able to find him no matter where he went.
"Smarter than you look, eh, boy?" Taln let out a gruff laugh. "I won't hurt you. In fact, I'm probably the closest you're gonna get to having someone give a shit about you." Taln had a cup in his hand, drinking deeply from it. Siv looked at it covetously. Noticing this, Taln passed it to him.
"So what do you want from me?" Siv replied.
"I want you to kill me." Taln's heavy eyes stared into Siv's.