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End of Tharion, The

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Blind Once More: The Death of Tharion Greyseer

-by Tharion Greyseer

Tharion stood near the ruins, facing out over the shattered clearing. It had always been this way, a broken place, once beautiful long ago.

Much like everything in his life.

His body had grown somewhat, his once pale skin darker now. Various ritual tatoos danced between each other across his exposed arms and chests. Some were broken by thick scars, others faded by age. The most prominent scars were along his back, as if three large sharp objects had pierced him along the upper back and shoulders. Clenched in his hands were twin blades, identical daggers that were lost in a swirl of darkness and black flame.

A heavy breeze blew Tharion's long and loosened hair back from his unmasked but blindfolded face. The glow of his spectral sight was gone now, no longer burning through the cloth.

"You have returned to me," he spoke simply into the wind.

"Indeed. But not for the reason you believe," said a woman's voice from behind him.

Tharion did not turn around. "You know not what I believe anymore. You forgot that long ago. You forgot me long ago."

A smile crossed the face of the female, her parting lips revealing a wicked grin. "I always remembered. You are one that is hard to forget, Greyseer." Her use of his title and last name was meant to sting, a formality that punctuated the state of their relationship.

"Indeed ..." Tharion paused and took a deep, shuddering breath, still facing away from the woman. " ... I thought you dead."

"Perhaps I was once. Perhaps I wasn't." Her voice carried a hint of amusement. "That is unimportant, however. What IS important is that I am here ... now." She stepped forward and ran a slender hand across his exposed back, tracing a finger along one of his tattoos that circled the large puncture scar at his right shoulder.

Tharion cringed somewhat, his face twisting in disgust.

The woman stepped around towards him, trailing her finger over his shoulder and across his chest. His blinded eyes never saw the glint of moonlight off a sharpened steel blade in her other hand.

"You have changed, Thar," she said softly. "Larger than I remember." A breathy laugh escaped her lips, the warmth of her voice caressing his cheek as she leaned in closer to whisper into his ear. "Perhaps once more? Like old times?"

Tharion stood stoically still, his face still forward, his stance still rigid. He did not respond.

After a few moments the woman frowned and stepped away. "I see."

"Do what it is you came to do, woman." Tharion's voice was heavy with a growing rage. "I have not the time for your games."

The woman spun quickly on her heel to face him once again. Her mouth twisted open in another smile. "Always to the point when the subject matter displeases you."

Another laugh echoed across the open glade, gutteral and deep, it was carried on the wind. Tharion gripped the swirling blades tighter as the black aura pulsated with the laughter.

The woman looked down at the weapons and frowned. "More talking blades? You do seem to favor those, don't you?"

The weapons' laughter faded quickly, but was replaced with a voice of similar tone that emanated from the chaotic wreath of smoke and fire.

"The One before Us should have silenced you long ago, woman. Perhaps it is time We correct that mistake."

The female stepped back, sligthly shocked at the statement. "What is this..."

"Kill me NOW!" Tharion's voice snapped through the chill evening air. "They cannot be allowed to take control once agai---" The Greyseer screamed as blackened bones ripped their way from his back, shoulders, elbows and forehead. The gutteral laughter of the daggers rose from the blades once more as Tharion's eyes burst into the flames of his felsight.

The woman jumped backwards, not suspecting the sudden transformation. She brought her ornate dagger up in front of her in defense as she watched the blackened spines grow from Tharion's body.

"..after all this time, you finally fall, Tharion," she whispered to herself as she crouched into a lithe combat stance.

Tharion stopped screaming as the transformation completed. Both of the spines protruding from his shoulders cracked and shattered, revealing two large sets of leathery wings which he opened to block out the moonlight. Gripping the two blades in his enlarged hands, the creature once known as Tharion Greyseer strode forward towards the crouching woman, a vicious grin splitting his transfigured face.

He spoke, but it was not his voice.

"One way or another, it ends now."

The demon of Tharion Greyseer slammed the twin daggers together at the hilt, and in a flash of felfire, the blades joined and transformed into a new weapon entirely--the warglaive once known as the Netherscythe.

He charged towards her, sinister glaive slicing for her throat.

---

The woman stumbled out of the shattered grove, her body covered in deep gashes. Her shaking fingers grasped her ornate blade's bloodied handle.

It was not covered in her blood.

She fell to her knees and dropped the weapon into the grass, bracing herself from the fall. Sinking backwards onto her heels she opened her other hand to reveal a tattered piece of cloth.

The edges were frayed, and the color was a faded brown now. Two spots existed near each other towards the center of the woven item, marking the spot where the Greyseer's spectral sight had burned through it for so many years.

A single tear dropped from her eye and onto the blindfold she now clutched.

End

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