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Sep. 12th, 2005 06:53 pmHis conjured opponents weren't as good as real targets, but he needed the practice before he went hunting. Humans were fragile, so killing the man wouldn't be hard. Finding him might be. But he had to be alive. Keelia was alive so...he must be. And Midir didn't much care if he remembered his past life or not.
He was going to pay for it in blood. Rather a lot of blood, he thought grimly.
One of the shadow creatures exploded. Then another. And another. A few trees got in the way and then they weren't there. He wondered if they had souls and blessed them absently in case they did as he sent them to the Summerlands.
Collateral damage.
There might be more of it on the streets of New York or London or Boston or wherever he was hiding himself, but he didn't really care right now.
He'd had a daughter. A child he never knew. And he never knew her because that man had killed her. Had....He turned and threw up, thinking of what he'd done to the child. To Etain. Reading between the lines of her post and knowing...if she'd hated her son so much, done what it seemed she'd done...he knew there was no other way the child had been conceived.
He needed more things to hurt. To destroy. Explosions followed him as he hunted through the forest, sacrifices to his fury, his rage. The noise was soothing. He had nothing left in his stomach before he was a third of the way into the denseness. It didn't stop the dry heaving every few feet.
His daughter. His wife. His girls. And the boy, too, though he can't bring himself to feel much for the child beyond Keelia's grief. Grief that was palpable now, through the lines, the terseness. The way she clutched at Noah and again he wondered if he should have come or just let her be. She and Michael...they could have been happy without him. Made a life away from what he'd caused her.
Danu, but he hadn't know. He hadn't known. Eochaid claimed to love her. He thought he'd care for her.
He'd thought she'd been happy. Done the spell to assure himself of that.
And this...
He was on his knees heaving, fires breaking out around him from the force of his rage and where else was there for it to go. Shivering there on the forest floor, trying to draw strength from the trees, but they turned their backs on their destroyer and he was left to wail his grief to the sky alone.
He was going to pay for it in blood. Rather a lot of blood, he thought grimly.
One of the shadow creatures exploded. Then another. And another. A few trees got in the way and then they weren't there. He wondered if they had souls and blessed them absently in case they did as he sent them to the Summerlands.
Collateral damage.
There might be more of it on the streets of New York or London or Boston or wherever he was hiding himself, but he didn't really care right now.
He'd had a daughter. A child he never knew. And he never knew her because that man had killed her. Had....He turned and threw up, thinking of what he'd done to the child. To Etain. Reading between the lines of her post and knowing...if she'd hated her son so much, done what it seemed she'd done...he knew there was no other way the child had been conceived.
He needed more things to hurt. To destroy. Explosions followed him as he hunted through the forest, sacrifices to his fury, his rage. The noise was soothing. He had nothing left in his stomach before he was a third of the way into the denseness. It didn't stop the dry heaving every few feet.
His daughter. His wife. His girls. And the boy, too, though he can't bring himself to feel much for the child beyond Keelia's grief. Grief that was palpable now, through the lines, the terseness. The way she clutched at Noah and again he wondered if he should have come or just let her be. She and Michael...they could have been happy without him. Made a life away from what he'd caused her.
Danu, but he hadn't know. He hadn't known. Eochaid claimed to love her. He thought he'd care for her.
He'd thought she'd been happy. Done the spell to assure himself of that.
And this...
He was on his knees heaving, fires breaking out around him from the force of his rage and where else was there for it to go. Shivering there on the forest floor, trying to draw strength from the trees, but they turned their backs on their destroyer and he was left to wail his grief to the sky alone.
