Seeking Answers

[HermioneFan]

Wow! You're very good at writing! When ur story said,
"But how could I help you? I know nothing of war or creating unlife from death."
I was like, wow! how can u come up with good phrases like that?

[harrypotterfan:)]

Kiara....where are you....you have another fan...you can continue writing now!

[Kiara Johnson]

((I am so sorry, I was away on vacation, but am back now heehee  Here is some more and thanks :))


"There's something more in you than the little girl you're used to Cella." Decimas said calmly, casually, not even looking back at her but still forward where they were walking. He had to choose his words carefully, but he couldn't let her see him think too much. He knew he was treading a fine line and wasn't sure exactly where it was, wasn't sure how far he could go. "Theres something stronger in you than the daughter your parents raised." He continued saying as they continued walking deeper and deeper into the graveyard that never seemed to end and then he did turn his head to face her as he spoke some more, though his face was still covered in that unnatural shadow under the hood of his cloak. He didn't really have to look where he was going, he knew the place so well.

"Theres something in you talking to you, isn't there?" he said, continuing to look at her, continuing to walk holding her hand in his. "Theres something in you telling you I'm right, isn't there? Listen to yourself Cella." He completely avoided the topic of why and how. Her first question of the set was more than he could answer. He was still trying to figure it all out himself and the truth was that he simply didn't know. The necromancers had lost the knowledge long ago and there was nothing past down to explain any of it. Decimas had to find out for himself by investigating and putting everything together. He knew he'd have to catch all the signs to figure it out, and he knew he was obviously still missing a variable somewhere in the equation. He didn't want to be wrong or premature on an assumption, he couldn't afford to be, and so despite his self typical impatience was ready to take this one slow and steady to get it right.

He was glad to understand he was atleast going the right way with it all, knowing he definitely had some controlling effect even if he still didn't know what it involved. She asked about taking his hand and he smiled, realising that he was right about it. He hoped he was, that was why he reached his hand out for her to take in the first place. He wanted to start small, trying little things to see if he could, to see how it worked. He got her to say hello and he got her to take his hand, but he still wasn't even sure how he did it. Was it simply because he asked, he wondered, simply because he offered? Even if it was, that obviously couldn't take him all too far, asking had to have its limits. "Yes," he said finally, after a momentary hesitation within which he had done a lot of thinking. "I did want you to take my hand, I still want you to hold it." Decimas looked her in the eyes and paused again for a slight moment before continuing. "And it would seem that so do you, or something in you is listening atleast, that part of you that's talking to you, that part of you that's stronger, that you need to listen to."

The necromancer made absolutely no comment to her realising that she was bleeding from the neck again. Atleast she didn't seem to notice the darkness left from his sword. When she commented on it though, he did start to wonder, and as she touched her wound and looked at her bloodied fingers, he looked too, though she wouldn't be able to see that he was watching. Decimas knew the importance of blood to a vampire, knew the significance and so ha to wonder about how much blood would mean to the unchained. After looking at the wound for a moment, and then her bloodied fingers for a moment, Decimas raised his free hand and lightly touched his fingers to her wound, gently wiping up some of her blood onto his own fingers and brought his hand infront of himself to look and wonder some more. Thinking again about how peculiar it was that that darkness had resurfaced in her wound, Decimas wondered even more. There had to be something significant about her blood, something different about the way she reacted to the forces in his sword.

"A hammer doesn't know anything about construction either my dear." He spoke half dazed himself, still thinking about her blood, still wondering what that variable could be. "Or about wood and nails. But a carpenter still makes good use of it for doing his job." It wasn't usually his style to use metaphors, but he really couldn't think of any other way to reply to her question without giving too much away too early in time. "If I did kill your father Cella, I probably wouldn't remember, let alone know the difference between him and any other man I killed." He sounded a little more lively then, trying to shake his distraction but still couldn't help but think on it all anyways. He didn't actually want to stop thinking about it, just wanted to sound more sure of himself.

"You said you'll listen to me Cella," he said after another pause as he thought some more. "You said you need me. Tell me you'll help me." He continued, and turned his head again to face her once more. "Tell me you'll do what I ask, what I say." He thought that maybe if he could get her to say that, if he could get her to give him her loyalty, her servitude, as it were, if he could get her to agree to follow him, that maybe he could widen that window of where asking and telling would hold sway on her. Maybe if she agreed, gave in and decided for herself to listen, he would have more control. It certainly couldn't hurt his efforts to try. "Listen to that stronger part of yourself Cella, and I'll help you find your answers."

He really hoped he was onto something there, but still realised he was surely still missing a variable. He wasn't sure still, what to think of the blood, of the wound, of the darkness that re emerged in the girl, but had to simply keep thinking on it as they continued further and further into the seemingly endless depths of the cemetary.

[harrypotterfan:)]

okay finally Kiara....LOL....ahh vacation....I see.....I was hoping you would get on soon and continue this story....LOL

[Kiara Johnson]

(Ok, just warning as it does begin to get a little brutal in the next couple posts.. is neeeded though ... here is more and thank you for reading once more.)


Her fingers tightened about his hand slightly as he touched her throat, her eyes watched as he drew away with her blood on his digits. He didn't seem to be alarmed though, and so, she made no further action as to be as such either. Her eyes turned back to the front again as she continued to listen to him, all the while her mind telling her to question, to seek her answers but, he was telling her to listen to that other voice, the one allowing her peace, the one that wanted her to listen to him. She was in turmoil, her mind fighting a battle inside the likes the Necromancer next to her, manipulating and twisting her thoughts could not possibly imagine. "How did you know I questioned myself?" She said in a manner of near awe to his knowing. She however was silent after her comment and continued to listen to him quietly, her mind struggling over as to what she should do. She swallowed once, the fear of the Necromancer growing inside her once again as he persisted in the course that in order for her to gain answers, she'd have to aid him, help him in something she was so totally against.

Cella looked at him when he had finished speaking, her lavender eyes regaining a bit of the shine that had been there before, the fear of the man holding her hand regaining some control of the situation, the more quiet voice in her mind strengthening for the moment. "If you did kill my father, would you tell me you were sorry." She stated more than asked, reminding herself that she hated this man, reminding herself she needed to get away, but then, his words, her answers to all her unanswered questions, his touch, it no longer made her feel sick, she seemed to have grown to almost like it, having him talk to her gave her the feeling of a child being lulled into some sense of calmness after a great pain had befallen it.

She was quiet for a few more moments as they continued to walk, her fingers once again closing about his hand as her mind screamed at her to stop, to let him go, to run away. No, you can't listen, you have to get away, you can't help what is your enemy her mind was yelling as loud as it could but she shook her head, her eyes shutting against it. When her eyes opened again, they had begun to glow with an eerie purple iridescence and she stopped, her feet no longer moving forward though her hand stayed in his. "I will listen to you Necromancer but I will not harm a living soul, I can not, I would sooner die." She told him, her gaze now boring into him, her lavender eyes seeing what she wished to, though nothing at the same time. She cared not who he was, only that he did indeed hold many answers to her questions. Her voice was growing stronger now as well, the hollowness being replaced with conviction, the dreamlike quietness still there but diminished greatly.

Cella refused to take one more step and now, she brought his hand up with hers and turned that burning gaze down at the two appendages, her small hand wrapped inside his. He didn't want to let her go, and she wanted him to continue holding her hand, she wanted to stay at his side, even through the hate that was beginning to once again rise in her mind. After another pause, she let their hands drop down again and she smiled a motion not shared with the rest of her features. "I do need you Necromancer, but..." She shook her head in confusion. "You have given me no choice but to listen to you..." She said then, the smile diminishing from her lips, the iridescence dying once more from her gaze and now, she moved closer to him. So close was she now that their arms crossed and twisted together slightly as their hands continued to grasp one another and she rested her shoulder against his and lifted her head to where his ear would be, somewhere under that hood. "I will do what you ask, but hear me in this and do not misunderstand." She went on, her anger gone from her voice, though the conviction of her strong will still there within. "I will not kill for you nor will I aid you in obtaining corpses for your twisted work, you will have to find another use for me. I only do this because I know you hold the key to what I am, and I know as well that you will not give me what I desire without payment in some manner." She continued and then laid her head on his shoulder and smiled though he could not see. "Teach me and I will learn what you want me to be, ask me and I will obey, I have no choice, but command me and I WILL destroy you, I don't know how, but in the end, I will..." She trailed off, her head coming off his shoulder as she once more lifted their hands and looked down upon them and then into the dark abyss of his hooded self. Her fingers now laced themselves in his and she gripped to his hand like that child would to a mentor, putting her faith in what could be either her undoing or her safety. The only thing the small nurse knew, was that once again, she found strength in his words and strength in herself she had not known was there, and as well, she felt so strongly bound to this Necromancer that she was more frightened of him than ever before

[Kiara Johnson]

((Hmmmm well will post more when I get replies)

[Lola_La_Fringe7]

plz finish posting

[Kiara Johnson]

"You hesitated." He said simply in response to her wonderment of his knowing she questioned herself. "You do things for me you obviously wouldn't otherwise want to do, you say things you wouldn't want to say. You agree to things you wouldn't otherwise agree to. The you you know isn't the you you show me, not entirely, and I can see enough conflict in you to know you thought twice about every one of those words."

Decimas was taken aback when the girl stopped walking and turned to face him as she spoke. He had to come to the realisation then that he hadnt moved as far ahead as he had thought. That, or he had taken a step backwards somehow. He didn't know how he wouldhave taken a step back, couldn't think of what would have done it. But at that same time, he didn't know what it was that had been moving him ahead in the first place and so, either case was just as reasonably plausible. Whatever the case, she had decided to agree to his offer this time, not been puppetted into it by his ununderstood powers over her. She was still acting of her own will, or acting of her own will again. Either way, he hadnt been able to get what he wanted from her. His last attempt at best guess had obviously failed and he needed a new one. He knew he had to think fast, but was coming up empty handed for the time.

He didn't say anything to her in response to her conditions. He was definitely hesitant, but didn't mind letting her see as much that time, not as though he could have helped it if he had wanted to. He really didn't have anything to say to it. Even with her agreeing to help him, he didn't have use of her for battle, and that took a lot away from his use. And even what help she did offer, her couldn't be too sure of so long as she was operating on her own free will.

"Yes," he said quietly, coming back to an earlier question of hers regarding the death of her father. "I would apologise for it had I killed your father." As she stayed close to him, her shoulder against his, he gently wrapped his free arm about her back as though to hug her softly. "If I did kill him," he continued to speak softly in the girls ear, "I am sorry. And if it was my former master who killed him, I am sorry for that as well." The necromancer was of course partly covering his back, trying to warm the girl up to him, but Decimas truly did care, somewhere in the back of his mind, in the bottom of his heart. Cellas love for her father reminded him of the love he had had for his own, and her passion for her fathers death reminded him of what he felt on the murder of his father. He wouldhave done anything, killed anyone for the sake of his father, to avenge his father. He certainly couldn't blame the young nurse for caring as much for hers, and he certainly would never be able to callously say he didn't feel any remorse over her father as well, as obsured as it may have seemed. He obviously wouldn't be divulging as much of his heart to her, but atleast he would stay his toungue from its usual careless words.

"You're still bleeding." He commented curiously. he had seen the blood dripping from the open wound on her neck again as he had gotten close to her to put his arm around her. He watched that darkness left from his sword still creeping about within her, never coming to any fullfillment of itself. He wondered yet again about the significance of it, about what it could mean for its power over her, of his power over her, and what if any connection her blood may have to the sway he should hold over her. He slowly moved his mouth over her neck again, staying a few inches away from touching her as he breathed his warm breath onto her again, as he had earlier that night, and breathed right over the open wound on her neck before inhaling a great breath of air, as if to breath the very sent of her blood.