Tivona - Chapter 1

"I don't own her ... not anymore ...", the man of blood whispers into the darkness, a disembodied chuckle floating from immobile lips. "but nor do you .. you never shall .. she is not to be devoured .. "1

No audible response comes from the shadow, though vibrations of sound tremble almost visibly through the air. The blood-man chuckles once more, a morbid red glow filling his body, growing through him like fire. The shadow remains shapeless and dark, though the walls seem to drip with glowing red.2

"You cannot win .. you cannot win .. " The shadow lashes out, slicing the blood-man in two, but his laughter still rings, cold gray eyes gaping sightlessly, as his head rolls across the floor.3

Gasping for breath, Tivona sits up in her tent, her blankets puddling around her hips. Cold sweat trickles down her back, a bead making it's way over the curve of her breast, before being devoured by the linen of her chemise. She had had another dream. Trembling slightly, she wraps her arms around herself, closing her eyes tightly, trying to remember anything from the dream. But of course .. she couldn't .. only that feeling .. that dread. That's all she ever felt after she woke up .. it made her fear going to sleep each night. She couldn't remember ever waking up refreshed .. only more drained then she ever was before night fell.4

She knew she wouldn't get back to sleep any time soon .. she never did, nor did she want to. Nonetheless, she lies back down. As she stares up into the dark canvas of her tent, she sighs, her hand fumbling among her things, closing around the neck of her lute. Pulling it to her breast, she tightens the strings, and tunes it skillfully, with long graceful fingers. Her dark curls lie snakelike around her face, as she tests the strings, and, upon finding them satisfactory, begins to play a haunting tune, filled with tension and anger under the gentle melody.5

She doesn't need to sing with the lute, as the sound carries through the trees on a bitter breeze that chills the heart. The simple melody gives more emotion then any voice could aspire to form, and the silence of the night animals seems more of respect then of fear. Herself .. she seems deaf to the music. Her eyes closed, as she lets her soul loose upon the still night, her fingers gentle stroke upon the strings like a caress upon her troubled heart. And into the sleepless hours of the night, she plays .. until, too soon to find true comfort in her thoughts, her fingers are to raw to touch the strings anymore.6

She sighs, and flexes her cramped hands, stroking the fine wood of the lute, as if stroking the cheek of her own child. After a few moments, she opens her eyes, and is only slightly surprised when she has to blink at the sudden dim light of the early morning sun warming her small tent.7

Sitting up with a grunt, and a sigh, she pulls her lute case near, and places the instrument away carefully, before pushing open her tent flap, and crawling out, to tie it open. She tilts her head, squinting, looking through the trees, up to the sky .. clear .. cloudless .. she sighs. "Well .. at least it won't be raining", she mutters to herself. She stretches her arms over her head, letting the dim sun warm her skin, through the thin cloth of her night clothing.8

Moving to the stream near her tent, she fills a pan with water, and sets it beside her fire pit. She turns to her bag, digging in it for the flint that she used to light the fire last night. After a few minutes, annoyed, she sets down the bag, looking around the campsite for the flint. As she searches, the sound of a horse and carriage approaches on the road hidden only a few yards away from her camp. She thinks nothing of it, after all, it was a main road.9

Then the carriage stops. It takes that fact a moment to register in her mind, and once it does, she looks up, frowning. Coming towards her, from the road, is an old man, dressed in rather mismatched clothing. She gasps, pulling the blanket from her nearby tent to cover herself, and stands, wrapping it around her shoulders as she asks, "Hello, sir … may I help you?"10

Smiling at her, the man bows, and with a flourish replies, "Oh, no, Miss, it is certainly I that can help you! I am here to sell you things you cannot do without! Clothing, for example! You certainly cannot walk around in your nightgown all day! Why, it just wouldn't do! I have a lovely tunic in my wagon that I'm just CERTAIN you'll love!" 11

Uncomfortably, Tivona opens her mouth to reply, but before she can say a thing, the man continues with his pitch. 12

"Or how about some lovely pans? You cannot cook without a pan! Or .. I have some ribbon! Such a lovely girl certainly deserves a nice ribbon in her hair to set off her eyes .. you have such lovely eyes, Miss … they're blue, right? No .. no .. they're brown! Of course .. Oh, well .. it doesn't really matter what color your eyes are, you're one of those women who can wear anything and look just lovely! I'm sure that -"13

"Enough, Sir!", Tivona interrupts, rather overwhelmed by this small man. "I am not looking to buy anything, Sir … I thank you for your time, but if you don't mind, I would like to pack up my camp and leave now. So if you would leave, I would be most appreciative!"14

Looking at her through rather beady eyes, the man stands there, silent, for several moments. Shivering slightly at his constant stare, but refusing to back down, Tivona stands just as silent, waiting for him to respond. Suddenly, a large, gap-toothed, and rather disgusting smile stretches across the man's face.15

"Ah, miss .. I believe there is something you need, though .. ", chuckling to himself, the man nods. "But, what you need, no one else can give you .. What you need is to be saved." Nodding, and chuckling, the man leers at her, before turning to leave, adding in a calm, sane voice, "but ain't no one who can save you but yourself."16

Watching the man go, shaken by his words, Tivona stands amongst the trees. Finally, getting hold of herself, she quickly starts packing up her things, forgetting entirely about her breakfast, wanting only to leave this place before it breaks the thin grasp she has on sanity, and forget the chilling words, and the frightening dreams that she can never remember.17