Hall of the Immortals

Chapter 5: The Hunt for Sidh

For weeks Oark, led sweeping hunt parties in search of Sidh, but she could never be found. In the morning, a new corpse would be found of a victim she drained through the night. In an effort to stifle her, Oark instituted strict curfews on all of the inhabitants of the great city; Despite these efforts the bodies of more victims were found daily. In spite of the set backs, the hunting party continued to exam and worked harder in their efforts to track the elusive killer. Oark grew despondent as the days progressed. His lack of sleep, due to the persistent torments of Death, and the growing epidemic of deaths weighed heavily on him. His council requested an early gathering on the fifteenth consecutive day of murders. Begrudgingly, Oark appeared before their summons, though his lack of sleep was evident as he stood before them. The council set forth multiple alternate solutions which stretched from ludicrous to absurd, yet in the end a lone voice spoke out speculating using bait to capture the killer. Thus far, all of Sidh's victims had been those in the outskirts of the city. The council member suggested sending out a lone person to travel outside the city a short distance to be used as bait for the daughter of Death.

A disturbing note struck in Oark's mind as he contemplated the situation. The council knew nothing of Sidh, not who she was prior nor who she had become. All they knew was they were hunting an unconventional murderer. Using bait was a scenario he had not yet reflected on, though the strategy behind it seemed sound. They would send one out and lay in wait nearby with the hunting party.

"I agree with this." Oark spoke, breaking the lull that had grown over the procession, "I shall offer one of my descendants as tribute for bait." A shallow gasp was shared among the council. Oark had children centuries past and the descendants from them still lived in the outskirts of the city. The fact he was offering one of these descendants as tribute for bait was a motion that the council did not take lightly.

"We will humbly accept this gift, our master." Oark took his leave as the council began hushed discussions on preparations for the trap. Oark knew that despite how the council took his intentions, that ultimately he made his decision out of guilt for the situation. The council, nor any others in the city, were aware of his involvement with Sidh. In truth he doubted any even knew of her existence.

Oark's heart and countenance was heavy as he made his way through the crowds of people and to his chambers. Entering, he again admired the modesty of the dwelling. He ran his fingers over the smooth rocky walls. He admired the subtle wooden furniture, which had been made to appear as though it were growing from the floor. He admired his bed, the soft bird feathers used to fill the silky fabric was wonderful in comparison to the grass of traditional beds. His bed was his true vice. As he looked upon it, Oark was startled to see a figure laying in it. His heart beat feverishly as he rushed forward and pulled back the sheet.

Ha ha ha!

Death's chuckle rang in Oark's mind as he realized the feathers in the bed had been shifted to appear as though someone was laying there. Cursing out loud at Death for his continued torture, he made the bed and fixed the lumps. His heart had raced for Sidh as it had so long ago, and Death didn't realize how strongly he'd hoped that it was her in his bed. Instead of laying down, he moved back to the entry room of his dwelling and sat in a large wooden chair near the ornate fireplace. The weather was still too warm to require a fire indoors, however, the seat was still his favorite place in his dwelling.

Sighing visibly, Oark looked around and took note that despite his efforts, he had to come to terms with the fact that little in his abode was modest. Over time he had acquired a great deal of exotic and fancy items, often as gifts. A massive painting of a pair of puma hung on the wall behind where he sat. While paintings were now common in many dwellings in the city, it was difficult to say that they were close to competing to the level of detail present in this painting. Oark had painted it himself and it was a tribute to his many years of practice and attention to minute detail. The part of the image that really set it apart however was the sheer size of the painting. It was every bit of life size and it, the frame that adorned it, was made of the same style as the rest of the furniture. Further setting his dwelling apart was the feature of a private abode. Very few dwellings contained a place to relieve yourself without having to depart for the outdoors.

"Why does any of this even matter?" Oark growled as he realized that his thoughts had drifted to such a distracted state. "Sidh, when will I find you?"

With a bitter taste in his mouth, Oark rose and went to his bed to lay down and rest. No sooner had his head laid down that slept met him. In a moment, Death was there in his dreams to continue his haunted torture. The figure stood in Oark's mind as clearly as though Death were next to his bed. He tried to pretend it was just a dream, but the truth of the matter lingered that this was not really a dream at all.

Something special planned today.

Death almost seemed gleeful as a room came into focus. In an instant, Oark was strapped to a table in the middle of the room. Various torture devices were to be seen everywhere in the small, highly heated room. This was his living hell. Whenever he closed his eyes, Death would bring him here to die a thousand deaths. Death moved to him, bony fingers circling where Oark's heart lay in his chest. Oark resignedly laid back and tried not to focus on what he knew was to come. Death wished to spend these sleeping hours cutting out Oark's heart, so be it. The pain he experienced was as real as it were outside of his dreams. This time instead of just cutting out his heart, Death also made him eat it raw. Then, after he'd healed, the process was repeated.

Finally, Oark felt his mind start to awaken, as his body left the torture room. With relief, he rose from his bed. Seeing how late in the day it was, he had to quickly go and get ready for the ambush. Tired as he was, he also knew that his body needed that rest even if his mind was tortured for it. Arriving at the city gates, he was met by Durrak.

"Greetings Asin-Ai!" Durrak strode forward with haste to Oark. "The preparations are complete. We have your tribute in waiting. The moment the sun touches the horizon, it will be done." Oark nodded and looked at the well equipped hunting party. All among without exception were adorned with light plated armor. Bucklers fastened tightly to their arms and swords graced every hip. The might of the soldiers and volunteers present were humbling. Despite not fearing Death, Oark would still dislike facing such a force.

"Where is my tribute, Durrak?" Oark asked, as his captain had turned to give continued commands.

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"Eh?" Durrak spun on his heel to face Oark and cleared his throat. "Asin-Ai, I did not hear what you've asked. Would you repeat yourself?" Oark shook his head and moved to get adorned in similar garb as the others. Durrak wasted no time on Oark's interruption and moved on with the preparations. Oark realized it didn't matter who the tribute was with a hunting party this large. The soldiers, the volunteers, and Oark all moved out and got into their places along the path. The sun was setting and it took only a short time before the bait stepped out from the city gates. The gates closed violently behind her as though to attenuate her appearance.

"Solara..." Oark felt his mind and heart lurch as he looked upon his descendant. Solara had blazing red hair, for where she was named, and a dark complexion. There was a soft spot in his heart for her as she came often to his dwelling to pay homage and offer Oark friendly company. She, unlike most of the other descendants, seemed to genuinely have interest in the man who sired her line. She would bring him cook dishes of food, clean his dwelling, and adorn his dwelling with fresh flowers at appropriate times. Her visits were infrequent but he had grown to admire her for them, the first of his descendants in many generations to make any effort at knowing him. She must have offered herself as the tribute when they came to collect a descendant.

Solara strolled boldly down the path and stood on top of the hill, which was the designated place for her tribute. Hours crept by in agony as the tribute went unclaimed, until at least Solara turned to walk back to the city. The first rays of sunlight were visible on the horizon by the time she'd arrived at the gates. The hunting party rose from their respective places and met her at the gate. As Oark arrived he saw why none had passed the entrance A bloodied member of the hunting party lay dead, his blood adorning the gate itself.

Next time send her alone

The words painted in blood struck Oark and he felt disturbed from the message. His heart pounded swiftly as he realized how foolish it was to try and ambush her. Another life cost at his folly.

"We do this again, just as tonight." Oark announced before grabbing Solara by her arm and guided her to the now opening gate. "You shall come with me, for we have much to discuss." Leading her on into the city, they arrived at his dwelling. Once they were inside, she prepared a small meal for them as he spoke to her about Sidh, his relationship with her, Death, and what has happened since then.

"It sounds to me as though this is all your fault." Solara spoke truthfully to Oark, something he'd requested she do when she had been much younger. "Which is why you offered me as a tribute." It wasn't a question, she said it clearly as a statement.

"I did not offer you specifically. I offered one of my descendants." The statement hung in the air as Solara nodded solemnly. They both knew she'd volunteered, yet neither spoke of it. Solara brightened up as she rose and announced she'd return in the evening. Her charming way of being positive in all things helped Oark to feel more at ease with the situation, if only briefly. She was always positive in spite of his often sullen moods.

That evening, as promised, she returned to his dwelling and together they departed for the city gates. As had happened the night prior, they set the trap once more and at dusk Solara departed the city. Unlike before, Oark lingered near the gate and in the midnight hours he witnessed a figure approaching, dragging a body of one of the hunting party towards the gate.

"Sidh." As he spoke, the figure straightened, visibly distrubed. In a moment she'd dropped the body and rushed to him.

"I should have known you to have grown wise to my plan." Sidh's voice was shrill and he felt no love in her tone. She spat her words and contempt could be heard behind each word spoken.

"You blame me for the curse Death bestowed on you." As he spoke, he realized it was a needless statement. She cursed him.

"You are truly the monster Oark, not I. To offer Solara sickens me." She spat at the ground between them and then turned her back to him. "I shall enjoy drinking her dry." Before Oark could so much as reach out, Sidh dashed with speed inhumane down the path towards the hill.

"Stop! Stop her, she's rushing the hill!" Oark bellowed the words as he pursued, the hill was hardly outside the city walls. Yet it seemed miles away as he ran towards it. In the silhouette of the moonlight, he could see Solara be over taken by Sidh. The hunting party swarmed, but it was too late to stop Sidh feeding from Solara. She didn't have time to drain her dry as she had promised, but by the time that Sidh had fled she nearly had. Oark rushed to Solara and wept at her side. Weakly, she reached out and wrapped her delicate arms around his neck. Cooing softly, she reassured him that she was still alive. Anger emanated off of him as he scooped her into his arms and carried her back to the city. He carried her all the way to his dwelling, ignoring any and all that approached him. As they arrived, he laid her gently on his bed and stayed by her side.

Within hours, she'd grown feverish, and Oark knew she would soon die. They had never yet interrupted Sidh's feeding, but Oark felt that it merely prolonged the death. He waited by her side for hours, as her fever grew worse. Healers had come, but all had departed stating that it was beyond them to save her. Solara weakly cursed Sidh and asked Oark to go to her dwelling and return with her family.

"Durrak!" Oark shouted, knowing that the captain would be within earshot.

"No..." Solara spoke weakly and trembling, "You. Please." Oark nodded and as Durrak entered, Oark rose.

"I must step out for a task, please stay by her side and guard her." Durrak swiftly moved to the bedside and bowed at Oark as he departed. The trek to the descendants dwellings felt absurdly far. As he made his way there, he then had the task of trying to determine who Solara had wanted. The descendants had many dwellings and it had been generations since the last time Oark had even visited this region of the city. Going door to door, he found her family and gathered them to follow him. They began a solemn march back to the inner city and to Oark's dwelling. As they approached, Oark slowed them,

"I shall see whom she wishes to see first. There are many of you and my dwelling lacks room for us all." As he entered and moved toward the bed chambers, he heard rushed movement. Fearing Sidh had returned, he rushed to his bed. Blood pooled around Durrak who was slumped against the wall, gripping his neck tightly. Solara stood opposite the bed from him, back turned from both. As she turned Oark felt his heart drop. Blood dripped from her mouth, stained her chin, and drops fell to her chest.

"Oark, what have I done?"