Raakel Wrathbourne

Raakel’s mother, Rillara, was a moon elf enslaved by the Drow year after the time of the Great Flood. Rillara was a prized breeder. She had earned her own quarters and her masters gave her a fair amount of freedom in the underground complex.

Of all the breeders, Rillara had successfully birthed the most offspring capable for use or sale. Other breeders were unable to bear the task of bringing monstrous creatures into the world. They went mad, or would simply choose their own death over the thought of bringing another monster into the world. Even more were killed by fetuses while they were still in the womb. Rillara was pragmatic, strong of body and mind.

She knew that her obedience would earn her a modicum of freedom. She would use that freedom to maintain an influence over the creatures she brought into the world; her children. She showed love to those who seemed incapable of understanding it and unable to return it. Some would prove evil to their core, but others would surprise her.

Raakel was one such surprise. Rillara didn’t remember much from the night Raakel was conceived. Chanting. A foul smelling smoke. Glowing writing on the floor. A searing pain in her belly. When her moon blood didn’t come, she saw a drow smile for the first time. She had never been better cared for than the nine moons before Raakel was born. She knew this child was very special to the drow and wondered what horror was inside of her.

Rillara was taken above ground for the birthing. It was the first time in many years that the elf had felt the wind on her face and seen the moon, full and heavy in the sky. She took that as a good omen from Sehanine, the goddess she still clung to despite the drow’s influence.

Drow priestesses, instead of slaves, attended to the moon elf during the birth. They bathed her and dressed her in fresh linens and wiped her brow with something similar to care. Rillara knew it wasn’t for her comfort. She was just the vessel for what they desired.

Despite the chill in the air, Rillara’s skin felt as if it was on fire. She burned with each wave of pain, feeling her child move and thrash within her. For years, she had borne the pain of childbirth silently, but this birth was different. It felt as if her child would rip its way from her while turning her insides to burned ash.

She labored for a day and a night until the child was born. Raakel was as silent as the night. She didn’t cry like a normal babe. Instead, she looked at Rillara with wide, dark intelligent eyes. Raakel’s skin was the color of ash and her hair was black, shining purple in the full moon’s light.

It would be several hours before Raakel was brought to Rillara in her chambers. A drow entered Rillara’s quarters and unceremoniously plopped the newborn onto Rillara’s belly and commanded her to, “Zern!”

It took a moment for Rillara to realize that the drow wanted her to nurse the babe. This had never been asked of her before. The children were always taken from their mothers and fed by the drow.

Rillara did as commanded, and Raakel fed eagerly, curling herself into the crook of Rillara’s arm. This happened again and again for several weeks. A drow, obviously frustrated, would deliver Raakel to Rillara for a feeding and then storm off after the babe had finished.

At first, the drow would stay in the room while Raakel nursed, an overbearing presence that made Rillara’s back go rigid. Rillara would occasionally take a glance at the young babe, who was always staring intently back at her. After a month of these feedings, the drow would station themselves at the door. This gave Rillara a chance to give Raakel a good look-over. Ten toes. Ten fingers. A beating heart and no tail or wings, and two fathomless eyes that swallowed you whole every time you met their gaze.

She seemed almost normal. Almost the same as any other moon elf, but Rillara knew she wasn’t. There was a deep power emanating from the tiny body of her daughter, an awareness that a small babe shouldn’t have.

Raakel seemed equally as enchanted with her mother as Rillara was by her. Raakel’s tiny fingers would wrap around Rillara’s silky, dark hair and give it a tug to get her mother’s attention. Once, when Raakel was only two moons old, her drow caretaker tried to pull her away from Rillara before she was ready. Raakel slipped from the drow’s arms and reappeared in her mother’s from five steps away.

As the days grew shorter and little Raakel grew, Rillara would see her less and less. When Raakel was three years and four moon turns old, her drow guardian told her rather sternly that this would be her last time to see Rillara. Raakel could feel her whole body vibrating with rage. Rather than unleash it, as the drow had prodded her to do in training, she kept it hidden. She wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize what might be her last moments with Rillara.

Raakel remained calm for her entire visit with Rillara. She sat in her mother’s lap as Rillara ran her fingers through Raakel’s dark hair.

“Olt dravel,” the drow announced from the door, enjoying the small flash of anger from both mother and child.

“Nau!” Raakel screamed back, her voice changing and morphing into something deep and menacing. Her skin grew taught, as if the bones of her face were threatening to split through her skin. Raakel’s vision tinged red as she lunged for the drow, her talon-hands curling around a dusky-skinned wrist.

Rillara watched in horror at what her child was truly capable of, letting out a tortured moan.

Raakel released the drow, who scrambled away from the toddler in fear. Raakel’s features returned to normal. “Mother, she told me I couldn’t see you again! I—I was angry. Please, mother …”

Warily, Rillara stretched out her shaking arms to embrace her daughter. As Raakel clung to her, Rillara questioned the Goddess. She thought Raakel had been destined for good. That whatever evil she had been born of had been stamped out by love.

Rillara couldn’t help but think of the child now growing in her womb. It grew more powerful each day, kicking and stretching. She thought she could feel the same deep power that Raakel possessed.

Raakel had to be taken bodily from Rillara’s room, kicking and screaming in a shrill voice with a face that shifted and distorted grotesquely with each wail.

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Raakel would continue her training with the drow, learning to hone her powers and her skills. She was a sharp pupil, and caught on to new lessons with ease, often growing bored during her studies. Occasionally, she would slip out of class and sneak off to see Rillara, where Raakel would tell her mother about her studies.

It made Raakel angry that the drow would prod her and harass her until she would snap. Rillara would always listen patiently to Raakel, gently tending to wounds the lashes had left on the young child’s skin.

The disobedient child grew into a quiet, reserved adolescent who rarely spoke. Raakel did what was expected of her, and stole away to the peace of her quarters as soon as she was released from her lessons. She rarely went to see Rillara anymore.

In her studies, Raakel excelled, which, at first, made her a target for her more-brutal classmates.

One day, she left one of her classes only to be cornered by three, drow students in a nearby corridor. Raakel took a deep breath and tried to maintain her calm but lost it when the largest female drow shoved her against the damp, rocky wall. Once her fury was unleashed, it was difficult to gain back control.

Her vision clouded as the rage overtook her. It was as if she was watching her own actions through someone else’s eyes.

Raakel left the instigator clinging to life, drained and dazed on the floor. The others were several feet away from her when she gained control of herself, shivering from both cold and fear. She stumbled away from the scene, feeling several sets of eyes on her as she sought the solitude of her quarters.

How could she have lost control? She had been working so hard to keep the fiend at bay, but the more and more she resisted, the easier she would crack.

She hated this place. She hated the drow, and it was so easy to let that hate fuel the monster inside her.

She had tried to get away. She even managed to make it above ground … twice. The harsh sun was difficult to stand on the surface, but it was much more forgiving than the alternative waiting for her underground.

Then there was her mother. When she dreamed of leaving the Underdark for good, she always thought of Rillara. Her mother was the only reason there was something more to her than just the monster that lurked just under the surface. To Raakel, turning her back on her mother would be like turning her back on the only part of herself that might be worth redemption.

So, as she found herself—once again—plotting to leave the Underdark, she thought of Rillara. Raakel was working to slow the frantic beating of her heart, focusing on the slowing rhythm when she heard voices raised in anger heading her direction.

“Not now,” she grit out between clenched teeth.

As the voices neared the opening to her quarters, Raakel flattened herself again her wall and visualized the hallway that lay on the other side. A moment later, and she was there.

Rillara was in a state of panic when Raakel found her. The older woman was covered to her elbows in blood, black and oozing. On the ground before her was a small creature. It’s skin was the color of bone, splattered in the same dark blood that covered Rillara. Semi-transluscent wings tipped with talons wrapped around its small body.

Rillara looked up when Raakel entered the room, her eyes filled with fear. The woman shook, probably both from the loss of blood and her current state of shock. Silent sobs wracked her ailing frame. Had she looked so frail the last time Raakel had seen her?

“I—it was biting me. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t mean to … I wasn’t trying to k—kill it.”

Raakel had never seen her mother like this. Rillara was strong. She hadn’t let this place break her … until today.

The older woman flinched hard when Raakel grabbed her arms.

“The child came early. There was nothing you could do. You tried to save it,” Raakel spoke in a level voice, willing her mother to believe her words.

“There was nothing I could do,” her mother hollowly repeated while staring sightlessly into her daughter’s eyes.

Rillara’s eyes focused with purpose on Raakel when she heard the drow approaching.

“Go,” was all she said to her daughter, pushing Raakel away and tenderly scooping the horror of a child into her arms.

Raakel backed away from her mother, her feet shuffling against the uneven floor. She watched as her mother began sobbing again, rocking the dead child in her arms. Rillara paused, though, long enough to look at Raakel with dry eyes and silently plead, again, for her to leave.

Instead, Raakel used the shadows around her to envelope her in their darkness to disappear from view just moments before the first drow guard walked into the room.

The drow looked over Rillara and noticed the child in her arms, both were covered in blood. He approached the pair and grabbed Rillara’s shoulder pushing her back violently. The moon elf fell back, her arms falling away to reveal the dead creature that clumsily rolled off the elf’s blood-soaked shift and onto the ground.

The drow bent to examine the monstrous baby as Rillara pleaded with him, repeating the words Raakel had instructed her to say.

The crack of a backhanded blow across her mother’s face was almost enough to make Raakel expose herself. She suppressed a growl and remained still, and it was a good thing she did.

The air changed when she walked into the room. That was an understatement. The air was sucked out of the room, making it hard to breathe in her presence. Her robes, adorned with silvered spiders, moved with the wind without making a sound.

“Disappointing,” the priestess intoned in perfect Elven. “You were given the prodigious task of bearing this child into our world. A simple task, but an honored one. You have failed us. So, I ask you, what am I to do with you?” The priestess paused long enough for Rillara to wonder whether the question was rhetorical or if she expected an answer. “You have, at best, a few decades of usefulness left in your womb. Then, you will be nothing—a hollow shell.”

“I—I did everything I could, Mistress Yathtallar. The child came too early and did not survive the birth.” Rillara didn’t make eye contact with the priestess, but kept her voice calm and even. The earlier hysterics were gone.

“Everything,” the priestess questioned. “When you felt the oncoming labor, did you alert someone? Did you, perhaps, do something to spur early labor at the detriment to this child? You have blood on your hands, Iblith, and blood will pay for blood …”

The air let out of Raakel’s lungs in a rush.

“Do join us in the flesh, Raakel. I have words for you. You may have fooled my guard, but the eyes of Lolth see all.”

Raakel obediently revealed herself, having the good sense to look guilty.

“Raakel, the first born of wrath, you have been given the high honor to be trained as a drow, to be treated as an equal. Yet instead, your loyalty remains to … this,” the drow pointed a dark-skinned finger at Rillara. “You have escaped this compound and defied your tutors and guards. And yet, I cannot deny the power you possess.” The priestess added, her tone flippant. “For you, I will be generous. You will leave the Underdark, as that is your wish.”

The priestess placed herself between Rillara and Raakel, eyes focused on the winged remains. The silence grew heavy with unanswered questions.

“You will leave on the next high tide and serve under Ssin’urn Karoth. Defying her is to defy me and to defy Lolth herself. For each offense you commit against your master, I will take a piece of your mother.” She spit the last word, and Rillara flinched in response.

“''Plynn l' khel. Hirhelar ol whol d' aphyon'',” the priestess ordered the guard, who responded with a curt nod and removed the child from the ground, leaving the three women alone in the room.

“Love is a weakness for others to exploit. You will be free of it when she is dead. Only then, can you become something … more. Come, Wrathbourne, you have much to do before your journey.”

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