I hate prophecies, too. Naturally that's why I always have them. Argh! Well, once one character had the ability, I had to give it to an opposing character to balance things out, right? Bah.
Incidentally, my names are getting worse. (Also the plot and the pace of writing, but never mind all that. I will get more words done tonight. Yes. Truly. I will listen to this album five more times and have no more clue of the lyrics than when I started. 'hong coi nan tian ning nan hai...mon tian mo dui wu blah blah blah I have no f***ing clue' and why can't I type as fast as he sings, anyway?)
And the demons...what is the point of having these demons pop in, threaten someone, then get defeated? It's not as if my characters are getting XP and leveling up from random encounters here, dammit. Also, can you spend a drama point to make the GM run a flashback scene in which you gain enough XP to be a higher level in your current scene? I don't think so! *kicks the novel*
(flashback excerpt for the win!)
"I will have your name if I have to read it from your stinking flesh!"
Nyima felt the demon's name being drawn away, ground between Chola's teeth. To destroy the name was to destroy the demon. The demon panicked. "Stop! If you kill me, you kill your sister!"
The demon took her name and knotted it into his own, gripped it with all his strength.
But Chola did not relent. Bit by bit, he pulled the demon's name free. Bit by bit, he devoured the name as he devoured the demon's flesh. Nyima felt his teeth as clearly as if it were her own life being inexorably chewed away. Together, they were helpless. Together, they were consumed by pain and fear.
"Stop! Have mercy, master," came the demon's agonized plea, indistinguishable from Nyima's agonized plea, so tightly were their names tangled.
Chola said nothing. Nyima saw him through the demon's mind, a ravening, implacable presence. As well ask mercy of a forest fire. A horror of their impending death filled her mind. The demon's horror, her horror, there was no difference. Their senses dimmed. Only their tormentor remained, and the only retreat was the infinite darkness.
"Mercy," croaked the demon, choking on his last breath. "I beg you."
"The Blind Frogmaker begs for mercy!" The new voice cut through the darkness like a bolt of lightning. "I never thought to meet such a day."
The Guru Achamo.
"...Heartless...Killer...Achamo," gasped the demon, gasped Nyima. The pressure on the demon's name slackened, just enough for him to draw a few desperate breaths.
"I'm retired now," said the Guru Achamo. "Why are you here, Frogmaker?"
"You...killed...my son," said the demon.
"Ah. I remember. The Gatherer of Leaves." The old woman sighed. "I did kill him. After he killed how many humans?"
"Nevertheless," grated the demon, "He was my son."
"And your vengeance has brought you to this."
"My death..." The demon struggled again to free himself, but Chola's teeth were still clenched around his name. "In the jaws...of the...Carrion Bear." The demon let out a strangled laugh. "How was I...to know? You have no...no right. How was I...to know?"
"Let her go," said the Guru Achamo. "Release her name from yours. Then leave here and never return."
Nyima felt the demon's shock. A tremor of hope ran through them both. "You...would let me...go?"
"Didn't I say I was retired?" The old woman's voice was serene. "T'hom. If he frees her, let him go. Do you hear me?"
Chola growled. The sound was a knife scraping along the demon's name, but he endured, understanding that it was the last blow struck before the peace. And the demon leaped at that chance of peace, of escape. Nyima felt the demon's name slide away from her.
The world went black.