“This isn’t right… and yet…”
Cynlan Dawnstrider frowned as he surveyed his surroundings. He recognized the outer walls of his majestic Silvermoon City and its achingly beautiful skyline to his left, but as they were before the Scourge burned a path of death and destruction through it. He wasn’t in Eversong Woods, though. No, the terrain was too harsh – no grass, no trees, nothing but dull brown rock and dirt, broken up only by gouts of fire roaring from the cracked earth. To his right sat the menacing citadel of fel power known as the Black Temple, a sharp counterpoint to the beauty of his nation’s capital.
The Blood Knight took a few hesitant steps forward, bringing him to the top of a long set of stairs leading down to a forked road, one path leading to each towering destination. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed his suspicion – Cyn was standing within the Dark Portal, or some representation of it. Still unsure of himself or the situation currently facing him, he started his descent, watching passively as his fine plate disintegrated with each step until he was clad only in a silk shirt and fine trousers at the last stair.
The echo of his last booted step was pierced by the metallic clink of footsteps approaching. Striding out from Silvermoon City’s main gates was an elf dressed in wicked armor crafted with frightening imagery on each plate, fel energies playing across the gritty vestments. He carried with him a massive two-handed sword of terrifying design, the blade glowing a baleful red in the twilight of the land. The dark stranger eyed Cynlan with burning felfire eyes peering from under his sinister helm.
Cyn spun again as he heard a second set of bootsteps approaching, these from the direction of the once-great temple. A bright golden light dazzled him momentarily, and when his eyes had adjusted to the glare, a figure clad in shining plate as bright as the sun greeted him. He looked as mighty as any paladin in his heavy armor, a gleaming polearm slung across his back, blue eyes glowing like ethereal beacons.
As he glanced at the two men, noting the helms that concealed all but their eyes and long, tapered ears, he realized he was looking at two identical elves, both his height and build.
“You two seem… familiar,” Cynlan muttered, narrowing his eyes at one or the other in turn.
The golden elf chuckled, the sound echoing from his helm. “Of course we’re familiar, Cynlan.” The knight reached up to pull off his helmet, tucking it under one arm to leave the young Dawnstrider gaping at the face that stared back at him. “After all, we’re you.”
Cynlan turned to the dark knight, shocked to find him wearing his face as he, too, removed his helm with a sly smile. “Or rather, the you that you will become.”
“We are the two roads set before you now, the choice that you have put off for too long that will soon be forced upon you,” the Light Cynlan added. That explained the fork at the bottom of the stairs, but… shouldn’t they have come from different directions? Why did the paladin come from the Temple? Why not from Silvermoon City?
Cyn shook his head with a deep frown. “I am a Blood Knight, sirs, tasked to defend the sin’dorei nation under the command of Lady Liadrin. I am no paladin, and I am no… whatever you are,” he remarked, gesturing to the intimidating figure on his left.
The Fel Cynlan grinned wickedly at his naďve twin. “Oh, you know what I am,” he purred enticingly, “and you know I’m what you have to be to gain that which you most desire.” A whisper floated across a breeze to him, and the dread title carried by that wind made him shiver more than its gentle caress.
“You don’t have to go that route, Cyn,” the Light Cynlan offered with a frown to his counterpart. “Zinnvais loves you for who you are and the Light you carry. She has but to realize it herself, and she will, in due time.” Ah, a hope that had remained with him almost from the very beginning… but one he had started to doubt as time wore on.
“She loves the darkness, Cyn,” the Fel Cynlan countered, his words carrying him slowly closer to his twin. “The fel is where she finds safety and sanctuaty. Why else would she have entered into verbal contract with Tsar and not you?” A concern of his, borne from his own insecurity and a lack of faith in his standing with his lady love. Why Tsar? Why not take up that oath I offered to her in Durotar?
“And yet,” the Light Cynlan argued, casting a glare at his darker counterpart as he stepped forward as well, “she spends more time with you, Cyn, than with him. She is just as fascinated by Light as with the dark, just as fascinated by you as she is with your rival.” She confessed as much to him in Durotar the same day he offered that oath, saying that she gave her time more to him than to his distinguished competition. It was one of the great comforts he carried with him, knowing that she spent more time with him than with Tsar, and something that gave him hope for the both of them.
The Fel Cynlan shook his head disapprovingly. “The Light hurts her, bars her from her strength and her power, that which makes her Zinnvais.” He recalled her confession to him as he sheltered her away in a fevered, weakened state, and knew that his darker image was right.
The Light Cynlan shot back with a frown, “Zinnvais is more than the measure of her power, just as we are.” Power is but a tool to those who wield it, he recalled someone saying once. It is no more a part of the wielder than a hammer is part of a carpenter. But hammers don’t corrupt if you have too many of them…
“Stop it,” Cyn muttered, rubbing his temples in frustration. “I have to think this through.” Zinnvais is more than her power, but she is her power, and I can no more take her from that than I could take her from her own bones. The Light has done strange things to her, and so that part of me must be withheld from her as much as possible… but if I called upon my other power…
“You ARE thinking this through,” the Light Cynlan replied, turning his gaze back to his twin. “We’re you, after all. We’re just putting voice to all those worries and concerns that have been occupying your mind for so long.”
Cyn shook his head, his eyes closed to their contrasting images. “You’re not helping.”
“You mean you’re not helping yourself,” the Fel Cynlan countered with a teasing smile. “We know what you want, Cyn. We know how very badly you want it. But you have to decide which one is most important.”
“Loyalty or love? You cannot serve both equally. One has to give to the other,” the Light Cyn offered. Loyalty… or love?
Cynlan opened his eyes to glare at his shining twin. He’d had about enough of both of them, but since his shimmering twin had spoken last, he got the sharp look of annoyance first. “Loyalty and love go hand in hand. The one serves the other.”
“When directed at one focus, yes, but not when divided by separate interests. “ The Fel Cynlan continued, “Loyalty to the Blood Knights, or love to Zinnvais? The demands of one will ultimately force you to compromise your dedication to the other.” Loyalty or love…
“Zinnvais demands nothing of me,” Cynlan shot back, his irritation mounting. She demands nothing of me, and yet…
The Light Cynlan sighed at his twin, shaking his head. “Maybe you need to listen more closely when she speaks, Cyn. Regardless, that choice is coming. You can either make it yourself, or have it made for you.”
“I don’t like ultimatums,” Cynlan growled, his eyes moving from one to the other. “Not from anyone, not even from manifestations of my own doubts and fears. I will serve the Blood Knights – and by extension, the sin’dorei nation – well, and I will have Zinnvais’ heart… and I’ll do it without compromising my integrity to either, thank you very much.”
Cynlan turned and began to ascend the stairs, leaving his twin counterparts in silence behind him. A smile spread across his face, growing with each step. Walking the middle path had never been easy… but for love and honor, I will walk it until the day I die. And with any luck at all, I'll walk it with-
The Blood Knight staggered, collapsing to his hands and knees on the stairs. A sharp cry caught in his throat as he stared with wide eyes at the blood-soaked blade protruding through his chest to pierce the stone stair below him. His own voice, filled with anger, growled at his ear, “We warned you, Cynlan. We warned you, and you brazenly turned your back on me. On us. On you.” The Fel Cynlan twisted his blade, tearing a strangled cry of pain from his impaled twin with a delighted grin, blood pouring down the length of the longsword and across the stairs.
“No!” his Light-wielding counterpart shouted from somewhere behind them both. “This isn’t the way it’s done… Cynlan, embrace the Light! Fight back!” The Fel Cynlan only chuckled, seemingly amused by the other’s words as he continued to twist that wicked blade of his.
The world seemed to grow darker, a voice echoing around him in that emptiness. “Since you refuse to make the choice we require, dear Cynlan, perhaps I should make it for you?”
“No!” Cynlan shouted, sitting up abruptly in his bed. Breathing heavily, sweat pouring down his brow, his hand moved over his chest… and found no wound, no blood, nothing to show for his wicked twin’s violent actions. As he steadied his breathing, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, he wondered at his vivid dream. It felt so real… but it was only a dream, only my mind trying to work through the problems at hand.
…Right?
((Edited to fix formatting.))
Subject: Shadows and Light: The Cynlan Dawnstrider Chronicles (IC) 
Mon Mar 10, 2008 8:32 pm
