The Sinner, The Fool, The Simpleton, and The Blasphemer
The village of the Hyummin was nothing like Panganeem or Juttyu had ever seen. On a sandy shore as flat as the horizon, countless huts and sleeping pits dotted the landscape. Large rocks were even rolled onto the beach to mark territories between neighbors, the water of the Hyummin literally leaping with so much fish, the luxury of stability was ever present. As the trio walked into the bustling village, Ippino suddenly grew smug. Far ahead was a blazing fire, contained right next to the largest pile of fish bones the Hunters had ever seen. The bonfire licked at least five feet high and let off a mighty heat.
“You-” Panganeem gawked at the strange sight, “You captured fire?”
“I did,” Ippino smiled wide, “Stolen from the fiery woods of the firebirds themselves. I stole one stick and braved its terrible bite to bring it home. We have bred it with our own beachwood and it has stayed.”
Juttyu and Panganeem stood in awe for a while, but were suddenly pulled from their thoughts as the loudest bark richoteted from the west. Their eyes darted to the perpetrator, and there, standing on a large rock was a Selka clothed in blubbery pink scars and a sheet of sharkskin. His lip was clefted by a scar and his left eye squinted permanently. People stood around him wearing faces of shock, anger, and admiration.
He pointed a powerful finger as he yelled, “Kirron…” He pointed to another Selka, “Delphina!” and another, “Bobbu!” He crossed his arms, “Have abandoned us long ago. They have created us out of malicious humor! We are mere specks in the rivers of this world, and for it we have been struck dumb and complacent.” There were angry shouts as he continued. Ippino seemed to hold himself back as the Blasphemer continued.
“We do and we say, there I did, I am alive, I am of purpose. I say no!” He formed a fist, “We are without truth, and without a drop of intelligence.”
“How can you say such things?” A member of the crowd challenged. A wired smile formed on the blasphemer.
“I have seen such things!” The crowd gasped at his words, “I watch my fellow Selka toil hard and I watch the diligent and the earner’s lives snuff out as easily as the lazy. We are alive, and we do not see past that. We do not see our demise, we are blind to the truth of the end. The gods have not given us what we truly needed, but they sit content because we fill our role without question regardless. We are ignorant, we are simple.
Panganeem scoffed and walked up to the stone. Ippino tugged his arm, “Do not, he is the blasphemer. He is harmless, really. Delphina will see to him in time.”
Panganeem pulled his arm free, and stared at Ippino for a moment before turning to the Blasphemer.
“Blasphemer!” Panganeem called out and the man on the stone turned to him.
“Do you stand in defense of the gods?” The Blasphemer taunted.
“I do.”
“Then bring me the god who cares. Show me the creator who does not for their own whim. Present the divine who knows altruism, and I will eat this stone I stand on.” The Blasphemer challenged.
“Why is your heart so dark?” Panganeem called out, “That you must challenge the very gods, that you must scream at the innocent people.”
“Because we are innocent, by your own words!” The Blasphemer waved a hand over the crowd, “And yet we are done no justice. We live in hunger, or we die full; the gods care not for we lived for them and that is that. We are innocents being used, we serve not our own purpose. Do you know death?”
“I do,” Panganeem’s jaw tightened.
“Then you may stand there and know that it was without reason and fills no purpose beyond the pain it had caused you, not in this world, not in this lifetime.” The Blasphemer pointed finger and those who admired him nodded and jeered.
“You are wrong!” Panganeem’s eyes narrowed, “The death I know served a purpose. Great things are coming, and all it cost was-- something so small yet so great.”
“A catalyst,” The Blasphemer admitted, “Perhaps, but it shall serve not the Selka in the end, for we are doomed by our own creation. It shall serve the gods, and we shall never taste the fruit of that tree.”
“Do you believe this?” Panganeem challenged.
“I do.”
“Then step down from your stone, and follow me, so I can show you how wrong you are.”
The Blasphemer and his followers seemed shocked for a moment, and only after a silent pause did one speak up, “Follow you where?”
“I am a K’night,” Panganeem stabbed a thumb at himself. He waved his hand over Ippino and Juttyu, “WE are the K’nights.”
“K’nights?” The Blasphemer’s brow furrowed, “Of the gods?”
“K’nights,” Panganeem answered, “Of Tyuppa.”
A hush fell over the growing crowd. The Blasphemer’s chest swelled as he thought and then with one mighty leap, he landed on the sand with a thud. He eyed Panganeem warily and nodded his head, “Show me.” He looked back at the crowd, his own followers nodding, “Show us.”
Panganeem finds the Hyummin tribe to be one of great splendor. Ippino admits to have stolen fire for the tribe from a forest that was caught aflame. In biblical style, Panganeem encounters a Blasphemer and the two argue. In the end, Panganeem convinces not only the Blasphemer, but his entire following to join the K’nights of Tyuppa. As the ranks swell, the group now looks towards finally fixing the Hyummin.
And Another One
“I painted the skies”
The words flowed pink in the clouds above. Hermes stared up at them in wonder, her eyes deciphering the strange runes that littered them. She was alone, and laid on the greenest grass she had ever seen, each blade plush and comfortable. An azure blue sky stared back down at her, soft rays of an autumn sun beaming down on her and the slope she retired on. She had no idea where she was, but couldn’t find the motivation to care.
Her black eyes scanned the clouds as they floated by, catching the tail end of another jumble of pink streaks.
“The heavens bent to my will.”
She squinted.
“And I gave it all away.”
Hermes sat up and a stiff spring breeze cloaked her. Her brow furrowed as the strange words rattled in her skull. She shook her head; this kind of thinking was best left to Xiaoli. She tucked a sandal under her and lifted herself to her feet. A pang entered her chest as she stared out along the valley, the sun hitting the grass in such a way, and the wind rustling it in such a pattern, that more runes were formed in the rudimentary clumps of vegetation. She couldn’t force her eyes away.
“I am one of many. You are the Dreamer, we are the Sleepers and we bite our tongue.”
Hermes’ eyes widened, “What?” She made a face, the words bouncing off her her mind having no luck in understanding them. She turned away and towards the slope, only to find it gone. She stared in an endless expanse of mossy statues and hazy mist. Trees stood gnarled, and unfortunately for her eyes, in such a way that she could read them.
“I am neither happy nor sad. I used to be but now I am lost.”
Hermes shut her eyes and slapped a hand over her face. A shiver ran down her spine and she took to the skies. She felt the ground leave her as her sandals buzzed. She sucked in an anxious breath, the whole ordeal overwhelming her greatly. She flew and flew. The air blasted around her and drowned her senses. Hermes was buffeted by the winds and as moments ticked away, she finally exhaled a massive sigh and let her hand fall from her face. Her eyelids turned pink as light hit them. She made a face and slowly opened them.
It was only for a second, maybe less, but her sight was overtaken by a staring mask. It had no mouth, no smile nor nose. Two blank eyes stared at her on a white surface. There was decoration along the edges, and the body was robed in moss and feathers. She went to scream and suddenly her eyes rocketed open.
She sat up quickly, her heart pounding. She was in her bed, with Xiaoli sleeping soundly next to her. The blankets slowly rose and fell to the rhythm of her wife’s breathing. Hermes put a hand over her own heart and felt its rapid beat. The Dreamer shook her head and slunk back into the bed. She groaned quietly and held her head.
“What a dream.”
Hermes is dreaming that she is in an uncanny valley where no matter where her eyes fall she reads the cryptic words of an unseen persona. Finally, unable to take the stress of it anymore, she flies away, only to come face to face with a masked being of strangeness. It spooks her and she wakes up next to Xiaoli, safe and sound.
The sign hanging from the exterior of Paulos’ tavern swung in the gentle breeze, the old wooden building an ancient grey. The smell of smoke snuck out through the loose plank wood door, the entrance hanging two stone steps from the ground. The clay tiles shuffled on the roof of the story high building and as the three Praxians approached, D’Bran gave it a disapproving look. Before he could say anything, Hondros suddenly let out a hot sigh.
“Chickens?” He glared, “Now we are going to have some bright eyed kid running around telling every chicken farmer in the area we are looking for a flock.”
“Better than tipping off the mark,” Renevin gave a curt nod and adjusted the bag around his shoulders. Hondros rolled his eyes and secured a crossbow to his back and fidgeted with his sword belt.
“Come on.” Hondros pushed through the door of the tavern and immediately the interior air rushed to exit. They were slapped with the stale breath of a midsummers alcohol and damp tobacco. Renevin wiggled his nose and D’Bran smiled.
“Smell that?”
Renevin nodded slowly, giving D’Bran a conspiratory look, “Oh I do.” The pair scanned the room. It was unremarkable with an empty hearth, the wooden windows flung open to let in what little air dared to ooze in from the outside. A humid warmth stagnated around the creaky floors and unpainted walls. The chairs were neat, at least, and not a speck was left on the tables. The bar itself was a different story, holding the grizzled failures who occupied their alcoholistic tendencies in the middle of a work day. Most were slumped over or arguing about the local politics. Garthilians experienced a good amount of freedom, with estate owners like Nopoitis controlling the rural job markets, but otherwise work was optional and not enforced by local lords. Still, one would wonder what the local lord would think of this mess, let alone their opinions, as for Renevin, who was he to judge; his eyes focused on a still smouldering cigar of tobacco sitting by a dirty dressed man who held his face down against the bar and his arms wrapped around as if he was sleeping.
“D’Bran,” He nudged the sandy haired man and the larger man turned and squinted before smiling. The pair slowly floated over to the far end of the bar where it sat, forcing Hondros to follow as the older man continued to scan the room. They barely caused their stools to creak before the bartender was on them.
“What can I get-” He stopped as he soaked in the heavily armed trio, “Am I interrupting a siege I didn’t know about?”
“Oh,” D’Bran waved a hand, “No, we are just out looking for chickens.” Hondros pinched the bridge of his nose.
“If ye want good hens,” A drunk gargled in the distance, “My cousin always has a good stock.”
“Thank you but,” Hondros shook his head, “I think we are all set.”
“Not good enough fer ye, eh?”
Renevin let a small smile form on his face as the two men continued their latest debate. He jabbed a finger into the sleeping mess next to him, “Hey.” The drunk squirmed angrily and grumbled but didn’t get up, “Hey.” Renevin jabbed him again, “You going to finish your smoke?”
The drunk waved a shooing hand without looking up and Renevin shrugged. He flicked the smoke up to his lips and took in a heavenly puff. D’Bran skipped his stool closer and shouldered Renevin, “How bout a puff for old D.B.?” He pleaded.
Renevin pinched it out of his mouth and handed it over, “Dumb Bastard?”
“You’re a natural comedian,” D’Bran jeered with a cloud of smoke, “Maybe you should think about changing jobs.” He sucked in a greedy pull, the embers glowing a hot red s it traveled up the paper. Renevin swiped it from D’Bran’s mouth and plucked it back into his own, causing the man to groan. Renevin waved him off and turned back to Hondros and the bartender.
“-- just a ways up the road, roosting in one of those old abandoned Praxian forts.”
“Which one?” Hondros asked, elbows on the bar as he leaned in. They were all but whispering.
“Orriyix,” The bartender offered, “Local Lord hasn’t caught wind of it yet, I only know because my niece saw it land.”
“And you didn’t tell anyone?” Renevin cut in, “Why not?”
“Not my place, and I don’t really care,” The bartender shrugged, “Besides, I’d hate to be the one responsible for the slaughter of a strange and mystical being.”
“Yet you told us,” D’Bran raised his brow.
“I guess I did,” The bartender gave him a hard stare and put a glass on the table with a hard glass clang, “You boys drinking?”
“Pissing,” Hondros corrected and stood up, “I’ll be back, should probably check on the wagon boy anyways.”
The other two watched as Hondros left and as he did they swiveled back to the bartender. D’Bran held up two fingers and the bartender shrugged and turned to fetch some mugs. Renevin rubbed his forehead, “It’s not even the afternoon.”
“Yeah, but we aren’t working today,” D’Bran defended.
“We--” Renevin sat up straight, smoking cigar hanging from his mouth, “What the hell do you think we are doing right now?”
Two mugs slid down to D’Bran and he lifted one, “I don’t know, drinking?”
“You’re a genius, I hope you’re aware of that,” Renevin scrunched his nose at his drink.
“And don’t you forget it.”
Eventually D’Bran finished his drink, all the while Renevin’s grew warm and untouched. Beady eyes stared at them the whole time from across the bar. An old man who wore anxiety in his forehead couldn’t take his eyes off the two. Eventually Renevin noticed the man and nudged D’Bran, who slowly turned to look. Instant regret washed over the duo as the old man’s eyes brightened when they made accidentally contact with the Praxian’s gazes.
“Void be damned.” They swore as the old man made his way to them. As he approached he grew happier and happier until-
“Praxians!” A smile formed on his thin lips, “By Harmony, you are Praxians!” His face was beat red with intoxication and his breath wasn’t much better. Renevin leaned back.
“We are,” He scanned the man, “What of it?”
“My son,” The man squeezed Renevin’s arm, causing the man to shake him off, “You have to save my son.”
“What are you talking about?” Renevin stood up, forcing the man to stagger backwards. D’Bran stood next to Renevin.
“If your son needs saving, why don’t you do it,” D’Bran snapped, “Instead of hauling away in the drunkhouse.”
“I couldn’t watch,” He started to sob, “The Lord’s men are there, but I don’t think they can save him.”
“What happened,” Renevin finally asked.
“I--” The man choked on his confession, “I’ve done some bad things. I angered a lot of people and now they are at my house, holding my son -- knife to throat -- in hopes I pay a ransom.”
“Sounds like you should pay your ransom,” D’Bran gave the man a cold stare.
“Or at the very least, not bring your work home with you,” Renevin added.
“Please, this is my son!”
Renevin closed his eyes and let out a silent breath, “Why do you need us if the Lord’s men are already there?”
“They are brutes, dumb sword happy brutes. They’ll make the wrong step and get my son killed,” He slammed his fist into his palm.
D’Bran looked at Renevin, who returned his stare. After a few seconds of wordless debate, the two looked back and Renevin exhaled the last of his cigar, “Alright, show us the way.”
The small man hurried to the door, the Praxians lumbering behind. Hondros nearly walked into the group as he was entering the bar, “Woah, leaving so soon? Did I miss the dinner bell, what’s going on?”
“We got hired to be nanny’s” D’Bran answered.
“Well, not nanny’s. Nanny’s keep babies out of trouble, this one is already in trouble,” Renevin corrected.
“Post-nanny’s?” D’Bran was cut off by Hondros.
“D’Bran, Renevin!”
“We are saving this drunk’s son from some thugs,” Renevin clarified, “We can hop onto Orriyix after.”
“I don’t remember you getting promoted,” Hondros crossed his arms, “But you must’ve with all these orders you’re taking and giving.”
“Hondros,” Renevin pleaded, “It’s literally written in stone; we help.”
“Doesn’t say anything about stretching ourselves thin, though,” Hondros sighed and waved for the old man to continued walking, “Let’s just make this quick.”
Up the road a ways and down a steep grassy slope was a large wheat plantation. The sun glinted over the horizon, threatening to set in the next few hours and casting a long shadow over the front of the stone and lime building. A windmill creaked in the distance and a group of four soldiers stood silent by the door of the estate. The Praxian’s footsteps were muffled by the growing wind, giving them an almost ghost like descent to the soldiers. Finally a stray twing snapped under Hondros’ boot and everyone looked at each other.
“What’s going on?” Hondros opened with.
“Who are you?” A bearded knight answered.
“We are Praxians, the old man sent us,” Hondros nudged at the shivering father.
“A heap of faith, that one,” the knight cursed, “We have this under control.”
“Our client thinks otherwise,” Hondros pressured, “What’s the situation?”
“You have no jurisdiction in this matter, mercenary,” the Knight pressured, “This is a case of banditry on Lord Hephatos’ fife, not some stray pigguts who stole a cat.”
Hondros and the knight stared at each other, eyes like daggers. Eventually Hondros cleared his throat and Renevin sighed, “What’s your plan, then?”
“That’s not for yo-” The knight began.
“We are going to storm it,” one of the other soldiers cut him off meekly and the knight gritted his teeth
“You can’t!” The father huffed, “My boy is in there.”
“And I bet they have him by knifepoint,” Renevin added, “Waiting for you to storm. As soon as they see you they are going to cut the boys throat and run.” He paused, “But you already know that, don’t you? Why else would you still be waiting outside looking at your feet.”
Hondros grinned as the knight’s face turned red with anger and shame, “By void, fine. What do the most holy and great Praxian’s suggest?” He sneered, “Scare them away with bedtime tales?”
Hondros groaned loudly, “I don’t have time for this!” He pushed past the knight and walked up to the estate. He slammed a fist on the door, “Hey assholes! Give in now or face punishment!”
“Fuck your mother!” Came from past the door and Hondros shouted back.
“So be it, then!”
The Praxian ripped the crossbow off his back and looked at Renevin, “Use the stones, wait for my shot.”
“The stones?” Renevin’s eyes widened.
“Braman is going to kill us if he knows this is what we used his stones for.” D’Bran added.
“You wanted the job, we are doing it right. Use them,” Hondros pushed past the others and disappeared around the flank of the building. The knight and his two squares stared at the Praxians and Renevin shrugged of his bag. He produced one of the lightning filled orbs and handed it to D’Bran. The blue glow caused the onlookers eyes to grow wide with wonder. D’Bran ripped his short sword from his belt and nodded. Renevin procured the dark inky orb and ripped his own blade free.
In the distance there was a sudden twang and a fleshy thud. Renevin crushed the glassy orb with a squeeze of his fist, the glass dissipating into nothingness. A dark, light stealing miasma began to spill from his hand.
Inside the estate, a group of seven men listened carefully. One scraggly bearded bandit stood near the back of the large foyer, a young dark haired man tied to a chair. The bandit held a large curved knife to the sitting man’s neck, the nervous shaking of the bandit causing the blade to nick his throat. The man whimpered, eyes closed. The other six stood near the door, maces, woodcutting axes and even two swords held ready. The entire room was turned upside down, with furniture flipped, and estate papers everywhere. Shafts of light cut through the many --albeit very thin-- windows, motes of dust dancing in the skinny spears of the sun. A servant lay slumped against one corner of the room, dead and bloody. Without warning a accented voice suddenly erupted past the door.
“Hey assholes! Give in now or face punishment!”
One of the bandits near the door looked at the others, who gave him a resolved look. He sucked in a breath, “Fuck your mother!”
“So be it then!” The voice called back, and then footsteps faded from the door. The bandits tightened their grips, leather straps straining. The bearded bandit by the tied up man sucked in a breath and held his blade firm against the tied up man’s neck, pressing it in dangerously. A few silent seconds passed, the only noise being the haggard breath of the hostage.
THWACK
Suddenly a bolt smashed through one of the windows, miraculously slipping by the thin frame and slamming into the ear of the man with the knife. There was a skull cracking snap and his head snapped to the side, the bolt all but disappearing inside his head with an explosion of gore. The bandit slammed into the ground, dead on impact. The blood covered hostage screamed and the other bandits’ hearts lurched.
The door flew off its hinges with a loud slam, and instantly an inky blackness swallowed the room. The bandits yelled as they rubbed at their eyes trying to see. There were two faint sounds of glass shattering and suddenly two swords cut through the darkness, crackling with blue electricity. Electric eyes stared past them and they began to cut through the bandits. The blades hummed as they passed by the first bandit, the cutting edges cleaving into his neck. The other bandits fumbled their weapons forward in the magical darkness, but it was too late.
With mechanical precision the blades found their openings in the pitch black. Unseen blood was burnt to the gruesome wounds by arcing electricity, muscles spasmed uncontrollably and blackened burns jumped over the bandit’s seizing bodies. Two by two they fell in a matter of seconds, their corpses wriggling on the ground, until all that remained was one tied up man struggling against his constraints and two crackling blades of blue. One of the blades arced down, slicing the ropes from the man’s wrists, the other swipe the horizontally, the tip snagging and cutting loose the bonds on his ankles. The rescued man yelped and scurried forward in the darkness, blind but free. A gruff hand wrangled the collar of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. With a hard push, he was thrown into the outside.
Light assaulted the man’s eyes as he landed in the sunny grass of the outside. He turned behind him to see Renevin and D’Bran emerged from an inky black miasma that held the estate in its grip. Their eyes buzzed with electricity for a moment before fading to normal. Suddenly the man’s father jumped out from behind a knight and two squires.
“Basil!” The father cried and Basil scampered to his feet, dodging the embrace.
“F-father!” Basil looked at everyone with wide eyes.
“The Praxians came, boy, they saved you,” The father tilted his head at Renevin.
“O-Oh,” Basil stammered, and as the father once again went to hug his son, Basil retreated, “Uhm, that’s okay.” He put his hands up, “I need to-- process.” He turned around and walked off towards the fields, hands gripping his hair.
“He’s an odd one,” Hondros remarked as he rejoined the group, his fingers unstringing his crossbow.
“Takes after his mother,” The father grunted, “But thank you, I don’t know what would’ve happened--”
“The very same thing,” The knight defended, “I will be adding this gross display of insolence to my report.” With little else he turned on his heel, “You will learn your place.” As he began to walk, one of the squires secretly pumped Hondros’ hand.
“Thank you, I will make sure our lord hears the real story,” He smiled and Hondros bowed his head.
“Squire!” The knight barked and the young soldier hurried off. Once everyone was out of ear shot, Renevin turned to the father.
“I suppose that’s it then.”
“I suppose it is,” The father hummed and tilted back and forth on his heels, “I suppose it is.”
“No need to PAY us,” D’Bran hinted loudly.
“Our order doesn’t require payment, but it does enjoy DONATIONS,” Hondros cleared his throat.
“Ah very good then,” The father smiled a thin lipped grin and began to toddle off, “I’ll make sure everyone knows the kindness of Ampexida’s oldest heroes!”
“VERY GOOD,” Hondros all but growled. The group grumbled as the old man slammed the door behind him, having retired to his estate, the miasma having disappeared. They stood there for a moment in wonder, and then Basil reappeared from around the corner of the estate.
“Hold,” Basil ordered as he jogged up to them with a small bag in his hand.
“Better not be a-” D’Bran began but was cut off by the young man as he hefted the heavy bag into his arms.
“Consider it a donation my crazed father would never give,” Basil conspired, “I’d give you more, but the rest is for me. I got to get the void away from here before the old madman’s dealings get me into another mess.”
The young man shook his head with exasperation and once again wandered off seemingly aimlessly. Renevin blew an exhale through his lips, “Must run in the family.”
“Look at this,” D’Bran suddenly huddled over the bag as if protecting it from outside view. The other two bent their heads to see, their eyes growing wide. A small pile of golden coins stared back at them. D’Bran shut the bag quickly, as if they were about to fly away.
“Add that to the dragon ransom, and we have a refreshed order,” Hondros smiled greedily.
“And finally some real food,” D’Bran grumbled.
“New pillows,” Renevin added and the others groaned, all three chanting in admiration, “New pillows.”
On their way back to get to wagon from the stables, the day dreaming trio was suddenly stopped by a strange looking man.
“Hold, Praxians,” The mustachioed gentleman commanded, “I hear tell that you are in the market for grade A chickens!” He beamed a white smile, with only one tooth missing from the back.
Hondros glared at everyone involved and sucked in a deep breath, “SON OF A--
The boys are at it again (not that half of you know who the boys are or what they are at) and they stop by Paulos’ pub to get some information on dragons. Unfortunately Renevin and D’Bran’s cover of chicken farmers follows them and Hondros gets into a spat with a proud chicken seller. While this goes on Renevin swipes a rare treat: tobacco, from a drunk patron and shares it with D’Bran. They have an exchange and then turn back to Hondros who is now talking to the bartender. They find out the dragon is taking roost in an abandoned fort named Orriyix. Hondros leaves to pee and check on the wagon. While gone, Renevin and D’Bran take up a job to save some dudes son from bandits. Hondros isn’t too happy about it but goes along with it.
They find the place in question, argue with the local authorities, then go in anyways. They subdue the bandits, save the son, and get a sizable donation for their troubles. Then they get mistaken for chicken farmers again.
K'nell stood in a vast emptiness, or at least that's what it looked like to the untrained eye. A certain emotion was in his soul and a certain thought was on his mind as he snapped his fingers. Slowly the world around him changed. While the world remained a certain black, rock formed under his feet and far in unseen distances. He could hear the dripping of water, an ocean forming around his stony island. If not for his godly perception, he would have been lost in a creation of his own. He went to sit down, and as he did, a porcelain throne came forth to greet him. He jutted his chin upwards, and a much larger throne appeared opposite of him. He patted his jacket, finding his tin. Pulling it out, he knew only one thing was missing.
"My dear Architect of Galbar," K'nell said out loud, to seemingly no one, "You have my cordial invitation to what I can only hope is what you find to be an adequate setting for -- well nothing but a chat, I suppose."
The words echoed through the endless hall, the dreamscape a perfect replica of the Architect's own throne room save for one detail--here, the wound in the ceiling above yet remained, and the night sky was still exposed. Though the echoes soon died and a disappointing silence seemed to be K'nell's only answer, there soon manifested a gigantic and disembodied eyeball. It came from somewhere up there in the skies above above, dangling in the air for a few moments before finding its place not upon the greater throne but directly above K'nell. And It stared. K'nell's smile remained as strong as it was polite, with only his eyebrows betraying his surprise. He cleared his throat.
" Welcome to the palace," K'nell offered, sliding his silver tin back into his pocket.
The Eye had strangely distorted perceptions. It (and the emptiness and darkness of the air around it, if air was truly what dreamers breathed) seemed to flit in and out of existence as if the dream struggled to reconcile itself with the presence of whatever outside force gazed in. But the Architect's speech remained clear. 'You desire answers.'
"In a way," K'nell looked down, his form flickering. Slowly he looked back up at the eye, his eyes spirals and his smile unending as it wrapped around a pale skull. He looked as he did when he entered Galbar for the first time, purple dots dilated at the vortex of his eyes, "Before I get to that, would I be mistaken to assume you have seen my works?" His voice swirled between them.
'My gaze has never left you.'
"Then you know that I have trapped myself," K'nell offered, "That through my birthing stupidity, I gave into my own damnation and I have committed a grave sin. In the first eons I created a life with no plan beyond my own weakness, and she named herself Hermes. I granted her the one boon of not knowing her birth, and through her actions I had built myself. Though my initial reasons were selfish, I grew to love her as my own child, but as my compassion grew, so too did my awareness of my own sin. I have done what you had done, except I am not wiser for it, nor do I have the answer to it: I had created life for my own purpose, but gave them no end and no escape." K'nell's eversmile shrank a little, "She now dwells in a world that hates her as much as it loves her, and I am to blame for any of her suffering."
The Eye did not blink, and nor did the void of its giant black pupil betray emotion. 'That one has nonetheless served my purposes well. She is an entity of value, sufficient to carry out your will as well as my own. Whatever happens afterward may happen.'
"I see," K'nell composed himself, "Then I suppose I should ask: do you feel love?"
'Why should you ask such a thing?'
There was a gentle pop of light as K'nell took the form of an experienced Dreamer gentleman. He wiggled his mouth, as if shaking off the strain of his previous eversmile and then raised his brows, "If you could pardon my inference but if this is not a topic you are comfortable or willing to discuss, we may bury it. I am not on a mission, as it were, to force words and complicate emotions."
The Eye continued to bombard K'nell with its stare, but for all its unwavering and unblinking watch, there was a tiny and almost imperceptible twitch. 'Many questions cannot simply be asked and answered, for there are some truths that words and thoughts could never convey. One must come to realize such truths of his own accord.'
"One such being the..." He mulled over his words carefully, "Status, as it were, of your sense of love and all that it entails?"
In an unprecedented feat of generosity, perhaps rooted in a mere whim, the Architect offered K'nell a morsel. 'Every entity is sustained by something.'
"I suppose it would be foolish of me to ask what you mean by that," K'nell pondered out loud. Silence answered and K'nell cleared his throat, "By which I mean to say, I suspect we are now talking of metaphysics rather than your capacity to feel or, dare I say, be love. I do not assault the topic change, of course, but I am merely pointing out an observation."
Though it wasn't readily visible, from the perturbations in space and reality (or whatever equivalent existed within the land of dreams) there formed a Maw. From above there came the sensation of falling water droplets, but of course, the Eye was not crying. It could not cry. Thunder came into the form of words, from deep within the maw above rather than from some stormcloud, "Your actions have been acceptable, and your role fulfilled to my satisfaction."
"Forgive me, but are you suggesting that my actions sustain you?" K'nell stared into the Maw.
"I offered the answer to another question. I was here long before you. I did not need you to sustain me then. and I do not now! Your discerning mind will eventually realize the reason behind my works here, but it will not come from any words. You would not understand."
"I suppose that's it then," K'nell folded his hands, "And in time perhaps I will come to realize greater things, but then again, perhaps not. Who's to say how much time I have left, let alone time to think."
And the Eye dissolved into tears that the Maw drank, and then the Maw devoured itself and all was silent.
So I guess K'nell wanted to talk to Archie and the fat bastard actually showed up. K'nell actually talked about his feelings but that lasted all of a hot second since Archiie doesn't really give a flying fuck how you feel and then the conversation devolved into a shit show of vagueness and perhaps this perhaps that. In the end we all learned that K'nell was better off keeping his shit to himself and that according to Archie, everything is sustained by something -- and whatever it is you wouldn't understand so fuck off. The end.
Hoshaf looked down at his hands. His right knuckle was crusty with scabs, and a sharp pain radiated whenever he made a fist. He had smashed it repeatedly in anger that morning, having heard of Antorophu’s suicide. To him, he knew it wasn’t because she didn’t want to be with him, but because she knew she wasn’t clean enough for him, not worthy of his strength; it was that and nothing else. Others had started to become scared of him, he could feel it -- he could see it in their eyes, and they had every right to be, he was strong -- he was the chosen leader.
He sucked in a breath and let his hand fall, he had been waiting. All around him was flattened grasses, he stood on top of a sandy sloped hill overlooking the tribe of the Opporu -- the Grottu’s southern neighbor. It was a smaller tribe, with tiny pits dug into the sandy bay. Reeds and piles of grass covered the pits and served as sleeping huts for the selka. A purple ocean pushed and pulled at the flat sandy beach, old fish bones and scales scattered about.
Beside Hoshaf stood two of his most zealous followers, their bodies wrapped in the skin of sharks, and in their hands were the pikes of the bloodkin. Blood still covered their fingers, having put down naysayers only hours after the news of Antorophu. Hoshaf’s only regret was how thin his tribe has become over his time spent as chieftain: but today he was going to make it bigger, and stronger, like himself.
“Kirron’s smile on us,” A wrinkled Selka approached from below. He, like most selka, was naked and would have been indistinguishable if not for the patterns of dull purple painted on him from old berries -- a strange Opporu custom.
“More than just his smiles, Chieftain Jorhuffa” Hoshaf grinned a toothy grin and his zealots chuckled, “Kirron and his bloodkin have offered us tools of strength, and gave us the right to lead.”
“Oh,” Jorhuffa furrowed his grizzled brow, “Well, strength to you, then.” He paused and eyed the weapons with a certain mix of fear and wonderment, “And- and what have we the Opporu done to… well why are you here?”
“The Grottu have been given a purpose,” Hoshaf answered, “We are to unite the selka into one tribe, one tribe guided by one chieftain.”
“But Hoshaf,” Jorhuffa gestured with his hands, “We selka are already one tribe, with Kirron as our chieftain.”
Hoshaf narrowed his eyes, “I don’t know who told you that, but it is a lie. I am the strongest, the Grottu are the strongest, and Kirron and his bloodkin themselves granted us that strength to unite the selka under the Grottu and the Grottu’s chieftain -- me.”
“Are you sure this is about Kirron?” Jorhuffa asked suspiciously.
“What are you say-” Hoshaf scoffed and grabbed one of the pikes with his left hand and shook it, the zealot still holding on, “Do you think I had made this? It is not wood, it is not stone, it is the bones of Kirron’s bloodkin themselves.”
“Perhaps to use in fis-”
“Do you think me stupid,” Hoshaf jabbed a finger into Jorhuffa’s chest, “You are greedy, you want the Opporu all to yourself. Willing to deny holy gifts for it. Guilty.” The zealots eyed Jorhuffa with dangerous intent and the old chieftain stumbled on his words.
“I- this is-! What-- by Kirron!” He slanted his brow, “Leave, this is not the land of Grottu. I will hav-”
“Just you or all the Opporu?” Hoshaf pushed the chieftain backwards.
“None of us would ever follow a leader such as you,” Jorhuffa hissed.
“Then you oppose Kirron’s will.”
“This is not Kirro-”
“And now you deny his chosen,” Hoshaf glared. The scene fell silent as Jorhuffa’s jaw hanged, looking for more words to say. Hoshaf chewed his cheek in thought.
“Go down to the village,” Hoshaf finally spoke, “Talk to your people, and if they feel as you do, snap a stick in half and hold both ends up for me to see. If they do not feel as you do, hold up a single stick.”
“Hoshaf.”
“I will wait here.” Hoshaf’s crazed eyes dug into Jorhuffa. The old selka scoffed and stomped away, but before he was down the slope, Hoshaf called out.
“Jorhuffa.”
The old selka turned and Hoshaf tossed him a long branch, “Tell them the truth.”
“Oh I will,” Jorhuffa narrowed his eyes as he caught the branch, “I will.”
Hishaf watched the selka skid down the rest of the hill, leaving two ploughs in the sand. His eyes squinted as Jorhuffa became surrounded by other grey figures. They all began to talk and Horshaf turned to one of his zealots, “Kirron is with us,” he all but whispered, “Yes or no, the Opporu will bend to his will.”
“The others are ready and willing,” the zealot nodded before turning back to watch the scene. In the distance Jorhuffa turned back to face the zealots on the hill. With a satisfied look on his face he held up the branch as high as he could shove it into the air. A smile began to form on Hoshaf’s face, only to turn into a disgusted frown as Jorhuffa threw the branch on the ground and stomped it in half. Other Opporu selka stood beside Jorhuffa, chests puffed and fists clenched.
“As if he expects me just to leave,” Horshaf’s brow furrowed and his thoughts raced. As if he expects me to lay down, as if he expects Viyoh, Thumfatem and Antorophu’s deaths to be meaningless and without a divine purpose. As if he thinks I’m weak. The chieftain grit his teeth.
“Show them the will of Kirron.”
The zealots leveled their weapons and began to hollar as they sprinted down the hill. From the brush behind Hoshaf the rest of his zealots suddenly bursted out, clubs, spears and pikes of iron in hand. The swarm of Grottu warriors spilled down the hill and Jorhuffa’s face seemed to lose its colour. The army of Hoshaf was almost as numerous as the tiny tribe of Opporu alone.
Down on the beach some of the selka began to run in retreat while others grabbed whatever was close to them. Driftwood, rocks, sticks, the Opporu braced themselves. They threw stones, some catching the faces and heads of the Grottu, some hitting knees and causing them to stumble, but those who were spared broke the foot of the hill even and scattered through the village.
Screams grew next to the roar of the Grottu as iron weapons slinked and stabbed through rubbery flesh. Crimson flew as thick clubs beat in skulls and hobbled limbs. Jorhuffa was the first to fall when four Grottu ran him over with spears pointed. Though he lay dead on the ground, the flurry of stabs didn’t stop, the sand churning with blood and gore.
Suddenly from one of the pits, an abnormally tall selka emerged. He wore the purple of the Opporu and in his hand was a notched club. The giant charged, club swinging madly a curdled battlecry on his whiskered lips. Before he could get close, he was hedged by the Grottu pikes, a point sifting through his gut and stabbing at his spine. Another sliced through his thigh, severing his artery. He screamed in pain, only to have a third pike slam through his open mouth and out the back of his head.
The rest of the Opporu scattered, some being chased down and beaten to death, others mauled by stabbing points, while fewer still actually managed to evade the onslaught. It was only when the sand was pink and crusty did Hoshaf descend from the hill, hands up. His warriors ceased and those yet still alive looked up, eyes missing and teeth knocked out.
“Let all of selka know,” Hoshaf declared, “That the Grottu are the chosen and the strong. All may join our tribe, or perish as is the will of Kirron.”
There was a great cheer that broke the wails of the dying and Hoshaf smiled, if only Antorophu could have seen him now.
Almost to that climax.
Hoshaf meets with the leader of the Opporu, Jorhuffa. Jorhuffa doesn’t agree with Hoshaf and says his tribe won’t join him on his quest of blood. Hoshaf gives him a chance to ask his tribe if they feel the same way, and when they do, he orders them all killed in a bloody battle. At the end he declares, “All may join our tribe, or perish as is the will of Kirron.”
Another nightmare ended, and once more Karamir jolted awake. He found himself on his belly, facedown, a thin string of drool connecting him to the umbrella’s fabric.
With a groan, he rolled onto his back, and then rose into a sitting position. His eyes immediately met Diana’s. Her eyes were wide and staring, a small curl at the edge of her mouth, as if she had something to say but was holding it in. Karamir frowned. He met her gaze and held it for several long moments. And then, at last, he spoke.
”What did you do?”
“Nothing!” Diana’s face broke into a big smile, “I did nothing, and you can count on that.” She gave him a reassuring nod.
”That is the last thing I can count on,” Karamir muttered. ”What did you do?” he repeated.
“Oh come!” She flicked her hand, “You shouldn't accuse a lady like that.”
”And you shouldn’t keep secrets from someone you spent weeks at sea with,” Karamir argued.
“Well I never,” Diana scoffed, “I told you I didn't do anything, and so I haven't.” She crossed her arms, “However, since you bring up secrets, I suppose the umbrella has one that you may find tantalising.”
Karamir was silent. And then a realization dawned on him. Perhaps nothing had been done, and this was merely an attempt to make him think that something had happened. That was a definite possibility - did she seek to drive him paranoid? Or had she actually done something after all? Karamir realized he might have no way of knowing. He decided not to voice the concern. ”What is it?” he asked instead, moving on to the topic of the secret.
“Oh my,” Diana pressed a hand to her face, as if hiding her smile, “You really don't know, do you?”
Karamir’s frown deepened, and he gave her a hard stare. At least her previous attempts had been upfront. But this?
“Listen,” Diana scooted close and cupped her hand to her own ear, as if instructing him to do the same.
Karamir did, unsure of what he was supposed to be listening for. It trickled in slowly, but he heard it faintly: waves crashing, a distant bird call. Diana's smile widened and a light cackle came from her throat, “You hear it?”
Karamir’s eyes widened in surprise. ”I do.” An uncertain pause. ”How long until we get there?”
Diana cackled and shivered with a certain joy, “That's the best part.” She let her cackle die down and hummed a small smile, “We've been stuck on a little reef for a day now.”
”Fuck!” Karamir fell backward. He sighed in frustration, and then stared at the sky in resignation.
“There he is,” Diana teased and sat up proudly, “You've been having so much fun, I couldn't bring myself to dislodge it.”
”I thought you wanted off this umbrella as well?” Karamir asked, not getting up. His eyes focused on a small distant cloud.
“I'm not one to ruin the fun,” Diana shrugged. She placed her palm flat on the umbrella next to her and there was a small smacking sound and the umbrella lurched.
”How long until we get there?” Karamir repeated.
“Again with the questions,” Diana rolled her eyes. She looked down, “Oh!”
”What?” Karamir asked, unmoving.
“My nail,” She held up her fingers to her face, “It's even.” She slipped her finger between her teeth and started nibbling on her nail. A few clipping sounds later and she gave a satisfied sigh.
Letting her back rest against the wall of the umbrella, Diana closed her eyes and smiled, “Isn't this just splendid? I just adore the long anticipation.”
”I suppose I didn’t have anything better to do before I came here,” Karamir responded, finally sitting back up. ”At least here I feel like I’m moving somewhere, even if I don’t know where.”
“Oh foo,” Diana didn't even open her eyes, “It's all the same, I suppose.”
”In what way?” he asked.
“Well,” The Deviless opened her eyes and tucked her knees up, placing her dream orb on her lap. Her fingernails clicked against it, “What do you mean when you say ‘I’m moving somewhere’?”
Karamir’s eyes widened. ”If we are back at Kalgrun, I will throw myself into the sea,” he vowed.
“Oh my!” Diana looked up from the orb and at Karamir with a pleasantly surprised face, “I wish I had thought of that, that would have been absolutely grand, don’t you think?”
Karamir was suspicious. Surely she knew that he had wanted to be away from Kalgrun? She had known everything else. If her goal was solely to make him miserable, then she would have in fact brought him back there, but she hadn’t. So he had to assume she didn’t truly want to go to Kalgrun either, which implied that she had a specific destination in mind. Either that, or they were actually back at Kalgrun, and this was all a build-up to the inevitable disappointment when he figured it out himself. Which one is it… he wondered to himself as the waves grew louder.
Diana hummed over his thoughts, her witching eyes boring into him. Suddenly she stopped short and tucked her orb into her hidden pocket. She laced her fingers together over one knee and a curl took her lips.
”What?” he asked her, after it had gone on for what he felt was far too long. Diana rolled her eyes and a second later, the umbrella suddenly made a soft scraping sound. Diana hopped to her feet and stretched her arms to the sky, a seagull flying overhead.
“End of that chapter, I suppose,” She let her arms fall back to her sides with a slap.
Karamir was astonished. His previous question forgotten, he rose to his feet, and walked over to the side of the umbrella to peer over the edge. Stretching far inland was a long shallow beach of sand. Shells of all shapes and sizes littered it, and the calls of the gulls crowded the air. For the first time in weeks, the scent of fresh plants was carried on the salty breeze, a treeline of green in the distance.
The umbrella suddenly shook and shivered, forcing Karamir to scurry over it’s webbed wall, falling into the warm sand. Looking back he saw Diana swing a regular sized umbrella over her shoulder, its fan hiding her face from the rays of heliopolis.
Karamir picked up a handful of sand, and watched it fall through his fingers. Was this a dream? Once again, doubts began to set in. Was she building up to another act of cruelty? Giving him hope before she could rip it away? How could he be sure? He looked to her, as if he was about to voice his thoughts, but instead remained silent.
Diana remained under her protection of shade, her pointy smile flashing. “How sweet of you,” She mused, “You’re going to miss me.”
That took Karamir aback. ”Miss you?” he asked, his eyebrows raised in puzzlement. ”What do you mean?”
“Oh?” Diana asked, “I suppose I simply assumed you were going to scurry away.”
”And if I don’t ‘scurry away’? What happens then?” Karamir asked. Strangely enough, despite his resentment at the weeks of misery, nightmares, and abuse, he didn’t quite feel ready to leave. He couldn’t explain it.
“I suppose that means we can keep having fun together,” Diana beamed, “Oh, and with so many new things around us I’m sure we will get into many little situations.” She suddenly scrunched her nose, “Now if only the weather would cooperate.” She pulled her umbrella closer, blockading herself from the smooth midday breeze and its summer smells.
Karamir considered his options. Assuming that this was not truly Kalgrun, then he was in an unfamiliar land, which meant unfamiliar plants, unfamiliar animals, and unfamiliar dangers. Miserable as it might have been, none of what he went through with Diana had been fatal. Therefore, it stood to reason that he would be safer, if perhaps less comfortable, with her than he would be without her. At least for the time being.
Karamir rose to his feet. After weeks on the umbrella, his legs were shaky, and unsteady. They nearly threatened to give way beneath him, but he managed to stand somewhat firm. He took a few tentative steps, and then, confident that he could still walk, he turned to Diana. ”Let’s go.”
“Of course, of course!” Diana tugged on her dress with one hand, lifting the hem from the sand as she walked inland, “Oh I hope they have nettles and little biting things.”
Flying over the great green forest a massive red figure could be seen with its wings outstretched. Fleeing from the disaster that was the battle of Shengshi’s arc, a lone dragon found itself flying for miles on end from the east. It hadn’t stopped for a break, let alone had anything to eat, and it was utterly exhausted. Yet it wanted to fly as far away from the massacre as possible, less it vowed for certain death by the gods. It already abandoned the giant hydra’s authority and had ultimately deserted from the grasp of the mighty Sartr.
Now it was alone. It had no idea where others could be found, yet it didn’t care. It wanted to achieve only one thing. Peace. And if it meant that it’ll had to issue a traitorous withdraw then so be it. With its wings growing ever so tired, the famished dragon slowly descended into the tree line as it issued a groan of discomfort. It needed to find food immediately. Yet even as it walked upon a sea of noise and commotion, none of the immediate animals around him would suffice his hunger pains. They were either too small or out of reach, or in some cases both. It was already smaller than most of the dragon companions it fought alongside with, but alas it was still too bulky to run after these smaller critters. The dragon began to sniff the air, attempting to catch the scent of anything of value around it.
And then it caught whiff of a certain smell. It was a foreign smell, yet one that smelled just a familiar. It smelled of those white pale apes that were on Shengshi’s boat. It had heard that they were called “Servants” and it had shared a morsel with another one of its fellow dragon, literally ripping it in half as they both bit both sides of the creature. It was a only small morsel, but it tasted like soggy sand. But this one smelled different. It smelled as if blood was on its hands. But whether it would have to relive the grinding taste of sand or not, it wasn’t going to give up on this opportunity.
It followed its nose northwards, periodically sniffing the air, before stumbling upon a sandy beach. And from the deep foliage, it could see two figures walking upon the sands… alone. The dragon’s mouth opened slightly as its long tongue licked the chops of his mouth. For mere snacks, they looked rather tasty. And the best part, one of them seemed to be walking at an unnatural pace - as if its legs were wobbling around. It could hardly stand.
Yes. This one would be easy pickings.
The dragon began to slowly move through the bush, lowering his body as he attempted to be as stealthy as possible. Despite his rather large size, it could still maneuver efficiently through the foliage with minimal disturbance. It continued to eye the crippled man as it locked onto him with pinpoint accuracy.
Once in position, it rose its back legs, crouched its torso on the ground with its tail held up high…
And pounced at the vulnerable Karamir!
There was a gentle “Whoopsie” and the world turned black.
The dragon peeled its eyes open, and a woman’s face was inches away. Her skin was pale and held a sickly blush, her lips revealing a toothy grin. Over her head she held her umbrella. It took the dragon short time to realize he was laying on his belly, a grainy burn from a skid rashing his underscales and a mouthful of sand clogging his maw. His brain buzzed, and he knew that feeling, he had just woken up from a sudden, very uncomfortable, nap.
The brown-haired man stood several feet behind her. ”It’s bigger than most creatures I’ve seen…” he noted in an analytical tone. ”But I’ve seen at least one beast that was larger.”
“But it’s adorable,” Diana defended, poking a finger at the beast’s yellow teeth, “So hideous.”
”Kalmar might like it. I don’t know if he would call it adorable, though. I’m not sure I would either...”
“Oh huff and fluff.” Diana waved her hand dismissively.
The dragon groaned weakly as a light stream of fire steamed from its nostrils. It bore its teeth as it struggle to get up on its feet, yet it felt too weak to get up even a foot off the ground. It wobbled from side to side, hoping to gain a good position, but all it could do was release another screech straight into Diana’s face, her smile widening.
“I think it likes me,” She charmed. Diana paused in thought for a moment and turned to Karamir, “Do you think we should take it with us?”
”Can we?” Karamir asked skeptically. ”It just tried to attack us.”
“Oh foo,” Diana huffed, “I suppose you’re right.” She sighed and ran her chipped nails down its scaly cheek, “Oh well.” She suddenly perked up, “A parting gift then.” With a sneering smile she tapped the beasts forehead, a red spiral forming, “So you never forget me.”
The dragon’s teeth snarled out of their gums as it struggled to break free from his dazed state. He flinched when he felt something forming upon his scaly forehead, jerking his head as he nearly snapped at Diana’s hand. Still, it was simply too sleepy to battle the two properly, as it continued laying on the shore with disgruntled growls emanating from its maw.
Diana gave it a friendly wave of her hand and looked over at Karamir. With a big smile she ushered him onward, inland to the Dragon's Foot.
Karamir is like fuck! And wakes up from a nightmare. Diana is all happy so he gets suspicious but she swears she didn’t do anything. It is then revealed that they’ve been near land for a day and Diana knew but didn’t want to interrupt all the fun Karamir was having.
She boots the umbrella towards land and they… land. She gives him a chance to leave but he denies it and continues with her. Her saves him from a dragon and when she realizes she can’t keep the murderous lizard as a pet she curses it so it will never forget the time they shared together.
1 fp spent on censure, cursed with nightmarish sleep paralysis to the dragon and all who rest near it.
Qiang Yi, Zhen-zhen and Zeng En sat drinking happily around the water hole, cupping their hands into the still lake and slurping loudly as they marvelled in the odd sights of the continent. The first mate sat staring smugly as the quartermaster playfully chewed out the captain, who dove for cover behind his hands.
“Look, I respect your enthusiasm, cap’n, but you can’t make such decisions on behalf of the crew - we ain’t even landed for five minutes and already you’re sendin’ us out again.” He snickered and slapped the captain on his boney back, eliciting a dry gasp from Qiang Yi. The captain grimaced a little at the smirking two.
“It is a god-given quest - of course, I accepted! His Holyness K’nell won’t receive a ‘no’ from us little becks just because we’ve just set foot on land again! No… No, no, no, we are taking on this second quest - I will accept no--”
“My, always so serious, captain,” Zhen-zhen snickered. Qiang Yi deflated and rolled his eyes. “We will go, of course,” the first mate laid down in the pink grass and continued, “but there’s no need to hurry everything along. This is our first break since we left the ship - let us have it without thinking of what comes after, alright?”
Zeng En grunted in agreement and laid down, as well. Qiang Yi sat upright between them, eyeing the two with furrowed brows. “You two are much too relaxed. I know that’s what His Holyness K’nell ordered us to do, but--”
“The Sovereign of Sleep did not order us to do anythin’ except to never travel to the centre of the continent. You’re thinking too seriously again, cap’n,” Zeng En mumbled with a smile. Qiang Yi straightened his lips, shrugged and got up. “I will take a walk - gather some inspiration for the poetry I will write once my hands grow back.”
Zeng En waved and pulled his banana down over his eyes. Zhen-zhen squeezed Qiang Yi’s calf and clicked her tongue. “Have a nice walk, captain,” she said giddily. Qiang Yi looked down at her with a raised brow, blinked twice and slowly began to shuffle off towards the outer plains.
The servants had organised themselves into small circles around the water hole, occasionally being visited by curious trees or critters. Voices grew loud for a few seconds as one of the trees presumably tried to dig its roots into the body of one of the servants, but these shouts were quickly replaced with laughter as the trees were chased off. Some of the Noble had brought along their instruments and played soft tunes that complemented the dancing shine of Heliopolis across the rosy grasslands. A group of the Strong were practicing their martial arts in the caressing breeze, their gis and belts moving as much with their movements as with the wind. They jabbed, kneed and hammered at the air in front of them in a controlled and impressive dance. At the end of every fifth or so strike, they spun around and began boxing and kicking the shadows in the opposite direction. The Skilled had found themselves some sticks to whittle and mostly sat drawing schematics in the mud by the water hole. The captain scanned his crew with a content, wry smile before he strolled into the woods.
As Qiang Yi crossed into the wood border, he found himself under the assault of a flying piece of moss. At first, the captain nearly tossed himself to the ground to avoid it, but then found himself chuckling as the moss slapped against his arm and began to lick at his sandy skin. Qiang Yi pulled his moss off with ease and lobbed it aside, chortling to himself.
“Is anyone there?” came a feminine voice. Qiang Yi sucked in a silent breath and froze, rolling clumsily into a bush behind him. Footsteps approached. “Hello? Please, come out and show yourself. I mean you no harm.”
Qiang Yi peeked out slowly. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and stood up. When he opened his eyes, his jaw dropped. Opposite from his was none other than Xiaoli, her hands full of fleece and her eyes wide as saucers. The captain cast himself to the ground and Xiaoli felt her brow moisten.
“O holy First of the Court, this servants named Qiang Yi greets You with utmost humility.” Xiaoli blinked and bowed uncertainly.
“A-and I greet You with utmost respect,” Xiaoli returned, seemingly not quite over the initial shock. “H-has His Lordship sent you?”
“He did, My Lady. We came by ship, the Zhengwu, to deliver a most sacred gift to His Holiness K’nell.” Xiaoli nodded slowly. “The crew is currently resting on the plains beyond the woods.”
“The crew, huh… How many are you?” she asked carefully and adjusted the wool in her arms a little.
“We are thirty individuals on the plains, My Lady,” the captain said swiftly. Xiaoli gaped.
“... I see…” Xiaoli said and made a frown, mumbling something to herself. Qiang Yi blinked. “Forgive this servant, My Lady, it did not catch that last part.”
“What is your rank, Qiang Yi?” Xiaoli asked.
“This servant is the captain of the vessel, My Lady.”
“I see. Do you have any lieutenants, captain?”
“Three, My Lady: Zhen-zhen of the Noble, my first mate; Li Shan of the Skilled, the master carpenter; and Zeng En of the Strong, the quartermaster.”
Xiaoli nodded. “Bring those three here, please.” Qiang Yi looked up with a raised eyebrow, but was not about to question a request. He got up, bowed and set off into a sprint.
In mere moments, he was out of the woods again, charging towards the water hole with gasping breaths. Zeng En was the first to look up as he presumably heard Qiang Yi’s loud stomps. The quartermaster scratched the head under his bandana. “Is everythin’ alright, cap’n?” he asked uncertainly.
“Yes! I mean, no! I mean, absolutely! Have you seen Li Shan?”
The quartermaster made a face and pointed a finger to his left. “Y-yeah, he’s right over there. Did anythin’ happen--?”
“No time to explain. Wake up Zhen-zhen and head for the forest border! I’ll fetch Li Shan!” With that, Qiang Yi set off over towards Li Shan. Zeng En watched the captain zoom off and shook his head briefly. He poked the small, curled up girl, who only seemed to curl up tighter as a result. Zeng En grunted and jabbed his finger into her side.
“Ow!” Zhen-zhen exclaimed and nearly flew into the air. Zeng En squeezed her shoulder and stood up. “Cap’n wants us to head to the woods,” he rumbled. Zhen-zhen smacked her lips together and stretched. “Did he find a funny frog or something?” Zeng En shook his head and helped the girl to her feet. “Doubt it. This seemed to actually excite him.”
Zhen-zhen scratched the side of her face, which was covered in pink grass. “Frogs excite him, don’t you know? In a real funny way, too.” She gave him a smirk, which was returned with a frown. “I did not need to know that,” Zeng En muttered at Zhen-zhen’s smug smile. “Yes, you did,” she snickered as the two strolled off towards the woods.
Qiang Yi stood panting next to a ring of rather confused carpenters, among whom Li Shan sat sketching some sort of contraption that likely could not be realised.
“Li Shan,” he managed through his heavy breaths. “You must come with me.”
“Is-... Is anything wrong, captain?” said the carpenter
“No, nothing is wrong! Just come along now.”
Li Shan looked at the others and shrugged. He stood up and followed the captain towards the woods. “So… Captain,” he began, “care to share what’s on your mind?”
“Lady Xiaoli is here,” Qiang yi said quietly.
“LADY XIA--”
“SSSHHH! Be quiet! We cannot let the others hear. She only invited the officers.”
The carpenter nodded slowly. Soon, they came upon the already kowtowing Zeng En and Zhen-zhen and a smiling Xiaoli. “There you are,” she said softly. Li Shan gaped for a second before he, too, cast himself to the ground.
“Blessed Lady Xiaoli, First of the Court,” Li Shan said into the ground. Xiaoli nodded. “You must be Li Shan. The others have already presented themselves. An honour to meet you.”
The carpenter nodded. “Likewise, O sacred spirit.”
Xiaoli eyed the servants. “Well, it would seem that we are all here. Come along now. I’m certain you’ve missed the taste of food.”
The servants all looked at one another with wide eyes and suppressed their giddy giggles. They followed Xiaoli over stock and stone, under tree and branch, until they came upon a clearing broken apart by a tall wall. They marveled at the construction as Xiaoli turned the corner. When they followed suit, they were greeted by a colossal black obelisk. A small stone bowl had been placed in front of it, little colorful pebbles offered into it. The servants recoiled a bit upon seeing the menacing structure, but Xiaoli beckoned them along.
“They’re with me,” Xiaoli said to the obelisk. “Come on in. Mind your head in the doorway, master Zeng En.” She entered through the mansion gates.
There came suddenly the sound of a door closing shut and then, exiting the master house, came a girl of white light holding a basket full of clothes. She wore a simple white dress, fashioned by Xiaoli. Arya did not notice them at first and began to walk towards the gates before her eyes met Xiaoli and the strangers. Where then she stopped in her tracks like a statue. She did not move, nor blink, nor even breath (if she actually breathed at all). Zhen-zhen stopped in her tracks and looked back, inciting Zeng En, Li Shan and Qiang Yi to halt as well. Xiaoli slowed down a little ahead, eyed the four individuals and sighed.
After several moments of this, tears began to well up in her eyes and she dropped the basket onto a stone tile. The girl then fell to her knees and kowtowed towards the newcomers. She then spoke in a shaky voice, her words Shengese, ”This servant is so, incredibly sorry for what she did. She does not deserve to be in the presence of those whose kin she murdered without thought of consequence. This servant has shamed herself, and can only ask for forgiveness from those she hurt, if they have any to spare, oh the most noble servants of his Holiness. This servant apologizes profusely.” Arya finished, daring not to move.
Qiang Yi and Zeng En looked at one another quizzically. “M-my Lady, You may have us confused fo--”
“No… She knows who we are.” Zhen-zhen put on an uncharacteristic somber tone. “You three used to work in the palace before the Gift, right?” Qiang Yi nodded. “Well, technically, I worked in the larders,” Zeng En corrected. “Kitchens,” said Li Shan. Zhen-zhen grit her teeth and sucked in a deep breath.
“Few of us remember anything from before the Gift, My Lady,” she said as she squatted down in front on Arya, her arms leaning on her thighs. “It’s weird to think back on it, actually. It was like dreaming, but also a bit like being drunk…”
“We didn’t really have what can be called ‘minds’, you see,” Qiang Yi added. “We were more like one simple consciousness divided among ten thousand individuals, giving each of us very little actual cognitive ability.” He put his hands on his hips and looked at Zeng En. “... I cannot believe we used to explode upon standing still…” The quartermaster nodded with his arms crossed. “Was always a wet mess on the kitchen floor…” Li Shan mumbled with a headshake.
“Yeah, what he said.” Zhen-zhen thumbed over her shoulder. “Now, having said that, there is one thing I strictly remember - one event that shook the ship deck so severely that not even the individual servant could forget it.” She pointed a lazy, bent finger at Arya’s downfacing head. “That would be your tantrum,” she said flatly.
Arya's body visibly trembled as her worst fear began to realize. They remembered what she had done and the pit inside of her deepened.
“Zhen-zhen!” Qiang Yi exclaimed. “Be quiet! We are their guests!” Xiaoli crossed her arms over her bosom and frowned.
Zhen-zhen remained unmoving, though moisture had seemingly found its way into her eyes, condensing as tears in the corners. “A lot of good souls swam ahead that day… Simple souls, sure, but good. I reckon I'd be one of them if not for…” She scratches her chin and made a pensive face. “Huh… I don't even remember what kept me away from my post in the guestrooms. Probably some errand.” She shrugged. Qiang Yi stormed over and pulled Zhen-zhen to her feet, receiving surprisingly little resistance from her. Zeng En and Li Shan flanked them on each side.
“That's enough, Zhen-zhen!” he snarled at her expressionless face. “You have no right to scold our host that way. On your knees and apologise this instant!”
It was then that Arya spoke, not even lifting her head up to view them. Her voice was meek and strained, ”No. She has every right to scold this servant. For this servant is merely a guest in Lady Xiaoli’s house. This servant does not deserve an apology, for there is no offense.”
The captain blinked first at Arya, then at Xiaoli, who approached slowly with her arms still crossed. Zhen-zhen looked up at her, then glanced to the side. Xiaoli gave her a sad smile and squeezed her shoulder. Zhen-zhen looked back up, then turned to Arya and sighed. “You know, while you did almost kill me, I--... No, we actually ought to thank, no, be appreciative, no… Show some gratitude.” She smiled wryly, nearing her usual smirk. “Had it not been for your tantrum--” Zeng En poked her hard in the side. “... Apologies, your accident, His Lordship may not have given us the Gift before much later.” She hesitated. “... If ever.” Qiang Yi raised his fist, but Zeng En grabbed it and shook his head, joined by a frowning Li Shan. The captain backed away a little and muttered.
Arya looked up at Zhen-Zhen, black tears staining her face. With sad eyes she took a gasp of air and began to break down. ”I-I'm so s-sorry.” she cried softly, ”It w-was a m-mistake and I hate myself b-because of it.”
Zhen-zhen shrugged. “I once almost killed the whole crew because I was reading on steering duty.” She strolled over and sat down on her knees in front of Arya. “I haven't forgiven myself for that, either. I kind of hate myself for it, too.” She leaned forward and squeezed Arya's shoulder. ”Talking about it helps, though, so if you ever need to talk about what you did, I can be there for you to listen.” She smiled. ”I'd rather that happen than see you break down like this every time you'd lay eyes on my people. Seriously, stand up, it's weird for someone to kowtow to -us-.” Zhen-zhen stood up and reached out a hand.
Arya took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She wiped her tears away from her face and began to nod her head. ”O-Okay.” before taking Zhen-Zhen's hand. Once standing up she dusted off her dress. She then looked at Zhen-Zhen and then others with a soft smile in her eyes and said, ”Thank you. I...This helps, in more ways than you know.” Zhen-zhen gave her a wry smile.
A loud wail pierced the air followed by a second one and a very loud groan, “XIAOLI!”
Xiaoli winced and sighed. “Alright, you four can move to the dining hall. I'll be there shortly. Arya, dear, could you make them some tea? COMING, SWEETGRASS!” With that, the river girl jogged swiftly into the private house.
Arya composed herself then said, ”Please, follow me. Lady Xiaoli and Hermes are rather… occupied at the moment.” she finished with a smirk.
As the servants lined up to follow, they stared quizzically at the private house. “Forgive me for asking,” Qiang Yi began, “but what were those noises?”
Arya giggled, ”Why, they're babies of course! Lady Xiaoli and Hermes welcomed two baby boys not long ago. The first dreamers, twins! Wenbo and Chagatai are their names. They're quite healthy and precious little gems, but they're always fussing.” Arya mused.
“Oh, what a stellar miracle!” the captain exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air. “Congratulations are in order when the Ladies join us, for certain!”
“Babies already? My, eagerness if I ever saw it,” Zhen-zhen mused with a smirk.
“How did you even make it into the Noble, Zhen-zhen, I must ask,” Zeng En said with a snicker. Zhen-zhen shrugged. “No idea, but I've reasoned that His Lordship is secretly making a special impolite servant unit for those who cannot adjust to the Flow's ways.”
“Those exist?” Li Shan asked with a raised brow. Zhen-zhen nodded ominously. “Apparently so… Imagine that! Guests who don't want you to kowtow and obey their every order.” The other three shuddered. ”I'd rather not imagine that,” Qiang Yi muttere. ”Lady Arya, if I may ask, what is your perspective on all this, being a non-Servant student of the Flow?”
”Hmm,” Arya began, walking inside to the dining room, ”In my travels, I've met those that do not understand the Flows inner workings. What to do, what not to do, what to say, what not to say and the list goes on. Some gods prefer the politeness of servants, others do not, or care not for such things. As such, you learn quickly to do what you can to please others, even if it means going against the flow. Sometimes, you just have to imagine that you're talking to an equal. As we are, now.” she said softly before gesturing for the servants to sit.
”Make yourselves at home, I'll make the tea. Have you tried the sweetgrass yet? Just wait until you drink it.” she said smirking again.
The servants sat down in seiza positions. “No, I don't think so,” Qiang Yi said. ”Is it a local speciality?” Zeng En, Li Shan and Zhen-zhen all seemed to be waiting intently for something.
”You could call it that.” Arya mused. ”Here,” Arya began, walking over to the table with a handful of grass. ”Try it, it's very good.” before she went back to making tea.
The servants did not move, though they occasionally looked at one another, the grass pile, and then back to Arya. Zhen-zhen shuffled around her position a bit. Zeng En scratched his neck sheepishly and grunted. Li Shan and Qiang Yi both stared holes in the grass, yet none of them touched it.
Arya noticed the awkward silence in the room and the grass that still layed untouched. She squinted her eyes at the four of them before saying, ”What's the matter? Can't eat or something?” she said with a laugh, before it began to dawn upon her. Her laughing stopped and she suddenly sighed, ”You can't eat can you?”
All four of them make varying faces between frowns and smirks. “N-no, rest assured, we are perfectly capable of eating,” Qiang Yi said with a sheepish smile. “We do it all the time! Breaks up the monotonous taste of water,” Zeng En added.
Arya frowned, ”You'll have to forgive me, but what might be the problem then? Please speak freely.” she said crossing her arms.
“Well… As you are no doubt aware, having studied the Flow diligently, we may not begin to eat until the Ladies of the house arrive,” Qiang Yi explained. “Tea is fine, but the law dictates that we cannot eat until the most important individuals are seated.” The other three nodded.
Arya shifted her feet and said, ”Oh, of course. Silly me, I guess it slipped my mind.” she paused going back to making the tea, ”We’ve never had guests before, and I've always eaten with them. Thank you for the reminder. Now, let's get the tea then! I'm sure you'll love it.” she finished chipperly.
The servants all patiently waited as the tea first was poured through a makeshift filter into the serving cup, then from the serving cup into the drinking cups, the portions quite small. The four picked the cups up in unison, briefly wiffed the steam, hummed and took a sip. They rolled the tea around in their mouths and swallowed simultaneously.
“Quite good, lady Arya,” Qiang Yi said happily.
“I like the, the sweetness,” Zeng En said with a blush.
“Better than what Zhen-zhen makes, that's for su-Oof!”
Zhen-zhen shook the pain out of her fist and gave Arya a satisfied smile.
Satisfied with their compliments, Arya sat down as well. She poured no cup for herself but looked at them with curiosity. After a moment she said, ”So, tell me about yourselves. What brings you to Tendlepog?”
“A sacred mission, my lady. We were tasked with bringing a gift of wine to His Holiness K'nell. It's been a long and arduous mission, but we finally made landfall roughly a day ago.” Qiang Yi smiled proudly.
Zhen-zhen sighed and smirked. “Well, the whole story is a bit longer…”
Xiaoli pushed through the interior sliding door. Inside the room was messy, with a set of clothes on the ground and a few stained towels. Hermes sat on the edge of the bed in a wrinkled gown, a baby in each arm and all three of them crying. Hermes turned to Xiaoli, eyes red and the twins screaming, “I just got them to sleee…” she sobbed helplessly.
Xiaoli huffed and went over, taking Chagatai in her arms and rocking him gently from side to side. She hummed softly, if not a little pleadingly, to the screaming child. “Have they eaten?”
“Plenty,” Hermes sniffed, “They were just about to slip off when there was shouting outside.” She rocked Wenbo in her arms, the baby turning towards Hermes.
“One goes off and they both do,” Hermes used her shoulder to wipe the side of her face.
Xiaoli pursed her lips at the tiny baby in her arms. “D'aaaw, widdle Chaggy so angwy… Yesh, he is…” Chagatai paused momentarily, but then began to wail again. ”... So demanding…” Xiaoli muttered and leaned him against her shoulder and she bobbed her torso up and down.” Do you want me to get the flute?”
“Careful,” Hermes eyed the clump of clothes on the ground, “He's been very.. Spit-uppy.” Wenbo seemed to calm down, rolling close to his mother. Chagatai let out a scream and Wenbo seemed to respond with his own new flurry of wails, “Okay!” Hermes frowned, “Flute time.”
Xiaoli smirked and went over to deposit Chagatai in his crib. She wiped his mouth a little with the sleeve of her shirt and took a moment to smile at the confused little creature with a face like a red plum and wildly kicking legs. “Chagatai will be a runner, I'm sure of it!” she said happily and looked at Hermes. “Oh, right, flute.” She strolled over to her drawers, pulled out the top one and rummaged about. “Should be in here somewhere…”
“Back left,” Hermes peeked over, leaning to put the struggling Wenbo in his own crib. Xiaoli dug a little more to the left and eventually pulled out the silvery instrument. “Ah! Here it is!” She dusted off the top and blew some test breaths through it. “Alright, here goes.”
Xiaoli began to play a sweet lullaby, one that likely would have been sleep inducing even without the magical effect. The near liquid notes filled the room like a tranquilising fog, making limbs and eyelids heavy. A cloudling fell out of Hermes’ knotted hair and the screaming instantly stopped. A second later and there was a tiny chorus of soft baby breaths and sleeping pops. Hermes put her hands on her hips and looked to Xiaoli, ragged and worn, “Is this cheating?”
Xiaoli waved dismissively. “It's creative use of a sacred gift. The children should feel honoured!” She walked over to Wenbo's crib and stared affectionately at him. “Ooh… Look at his little hands… Can't stay frustrated at something like that…” she whispered with a grin.
“I guess not,” Hermes admitted with a exhale and plopped onto the bed, hands folded on her lap. She blew at a long strand of hair, “What was with the noise outside? Did you bring a tree-eater home with you or something?”
“Hmm? Oh! No, I found some Servants in the tree-eater fields and invited them home to have dinner with us. They found Arya outside and, well…” She sighed and folded her arms. “You know her story with His Lordship and the way she left…”
“Ohh,” Hermes whined as she rubbed her face, her tangled hair curtaining her visage, “Xiaoli your generosity stole my heart but I swear to you now I'm not putting on pants.” She sighed and looked up, “How's Arya?”
“She's better. The servant who remembered the incident the most vividly seems to have offered the cup of peace, so I reckon that they will be friends soon enough.” She gave Hermes a wry smile and eyes her up and down. “You certain you'd rather not be with us? The air in here is pretty close, and you…” She paused and sniffed the air. ”... Could use some time outside.”
“Fine,” Hermes poked a finger, “but no pants.” She stood up and shuffled over to her dresser, “Think anyone would notice if I just tossed my cloak over my gown?” She asked as she flicked through the woolen apparel.
“Why do you insist on no--... Alright, fine, just look presentable. I'll do your hair.” Xiaoli went back to the drawers and pulled out a stone comb.
“Says the River-Girl who never wears pants,” Hermes looked at Xiaoli's skirt and raised a brow. The dreamer pulled out a long fur trimmed dress and pressed it against herself “Pbbt, good enough,” she raspberried and threw it over her head, wiggling her arms through the elbow length sleeves. She pressed it over her lap, and presented it to Xiaoli, “And no more gown to be seen.”
Xiaoli eyed her up and down again and shook her head hopelessly. “Well, if you didn't care about appearances before… Well, it'll do for a crowd of lesser rank, especially this kind. Come on, they're waiting.” Xiaoli beckoned Hermes towards the door, which she slowly pushed open to avoid waking their sons.
Hermes tugged at a knot in her hair and narrowed her eyes at Xiaoli. She picked up the comb Xiaoli had discarded and made quick work of her tangled hair. When done she gently placed the comb back down. Her hair changed to the colour of midnight and her tired face magically changed to one of perky alertness, cheeks filled with a touch of color. She slipped out of the room, her hand catching Xiaoli's on the way out.
“Doesn't care,” She mimicked with a tiny teasing jeer.
Xiaoli rolled her eyes playfully. “Right, hair… Sorry.” They hurried over to the dining hall, mostly due to Xiaoli’s incessant pulling, and shoved the doors aside.
“... And that’s how we ended up here,” Zhen-zhen finished with a smile. Qiang Yi, Zeng En and Li Shan all blinked at the arriving two, shuffled away from the table and kowtowed. “Ten thousand years and more to the First of the Court and the Love of the River!” Zhen-zhen scrambled into a quick excuse for a similar position and echoed the words at a slight off-beat. Xiaoli blushed and scratched her head sheepishly.
“It’s… Really weird to hear that here… Not unwelcome, though,” she added with a grin.
“Oh for you,” Hermes nudged Xiaoli gently and smiled wide at her guests, “Did you all leave a pebble for the house guardian?”
“Pebble?” the captain blurted out quizzically
Xiaoli gulped and rubbed her face with her palm. “Right… Pebble… I’ll be right back.” She hopped out of the building again and headed for the gate.
“I was hoping it would catch on,” Hermes watched her partner hurry off and smiled to herself.
“If I may, Lady Hermes, is it there a question of a toll? If so, I’m certain we have brought stones along to offer,” Qiang Yi proposed. Li Shan stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out a stick of charcoal with a shrug. Zeng En produced a shiny black grain with a grin. Zhen-zhen patted her dress with a frown.
“I like to think of it more as a gift,” Hermes explained, “To show appreciation to the guardian, give it something to wonder at.” She paused, “On your way out, maybe, to show thanks.”
“Oh, of course! Only natural for guests to leave gifts,” the captain said with a smile. “Oh, forgive these servants - we have yet to introduce ourselves. This one is named Qiang Yi; that girl is Zhen-zhen, my first mate; then we have Zeng En, the quartermaster; and finally, Li Shan, master carpenter. We are honoured to be invited to Your holy abode, lady Hermes.”
“It’s nice to have you,” She smiled and looked out to the door. Xiaoli stepped back into the house and dusted herself off a little.
“There, found some nice piece of granite for him.” She sat herself down by the table and let out a content sigh. Hermes pulled her dressed under and sat down next to Xiaoli.
“Oh good, I like to think he likes the shinier ones,” She mused. Xiaoli shrugged and smiled.
“He said it looked nice, at least. Now, uhm… Dinner, right!” Xiaoli got back to her feet and straightened out her skirt. “Oh!” She snatched a piece of sweetgrass and put it in her mouth. “Please! Feel free to try some!” The servants all grinned from ear to ear and grabbed varying amounts, from a single blade to a handful. They smelled them, licked them and tasted them respectively, all in unison like creatures of one mind.
“Mmm! Truly, your recommendation was warranted, lady Arya,” the captain said with a smile. Zeng En and Li Shan both helped themselves to some more. Zhen-zhen put some in her tea and slurped quietly. Qiang Yi’s eyes blinked suddenly. “Oh! Yes, this servant wishes to express its most joyous congratulations to the Ladies of the house on the birth of your children.” He bowed sitting.
“Oh, how kind! Thank you so much!” Xiaoli said with a grin as she peeled a radish with a stone knife. Hermes beamed.
“If they weren’t sleeping I’d say you should take a look at them, they are beautiful.”
“I have no doubts about that. The children of two pinnacles of beauty such as the two of you are bound to reach standards unequalled in other races,” the captain proclaimed proudly.
Zhen-zhen snickered. “Would you not agree, lady Arya?”
Arya had simply been sitting quietly, smiling as the servants chatted with Xiaoli and Hermes. Her mind however was abuzz with thought at the fact their ship had been attacked by a leviathan angler, one of the creatures her father had made. Kalmar had explained to her well enough what they were capable of. She was just glad they were fortunate enough to escape.
So when Zhen-Zhen spoke to her, Arya snapped back to attention suddenly and said, ”Beauty? Huh, I suppose they are. But their souls are far more beautiful, and pure. And that’s all that really matters.” she finished softly with a warm smile.
“Awh,” Hermes patted Arya’s hand, and gave her a smile “That’s so nice of you. I’m glad we have you around, too.”
”I'm just happy to be here.” Arya replied in a kind voice.
“You've been wonderful to have around the house lately,” Xiaoli giggled from the stove. “With the children having been born, having you do the laundry really frees me up.” She chopped up some cabbage and chives and lobbed them into the bubbling pot. “I hope it's not too much to ask.”
Arya turned to Xiaoli and said, ”Of course not Lady Xiaoli. Both of you took me in when I needed help. Helping the both of you, is the least I can do.” she paused then said, ”It's nice to be… a part of something.”
Qiang Yi slowly sipped his tea, eyeing Arya intently. “Say… Lady Arya, are you fond of adventures?”
Arya caught Qiang Yi’s gaze and giggled, ”Life is an adventure! It's been a journey just to get here and even that was an accident. You never know where it's all taking you. So yes I suppose I do.”
The captain nodded. They other sailors looked at him expectantly. “How stellar. You see, we have received another mission - one on which we would need to increase our numbers. Tell me, have You ever wanted to be part of something legendary? Something which will be remembered in poetry and songs until the end of time?” Hermes brow furrowed slightly and she looked over at Arya.
Arya looked at the captain quizzically, her mind abuzz with emotions and thoughts. She turned her head to look at Hermes, with a calm look in her eyes. She then turned away to look back at Qiang Yi and took a deep breath before saying, ”I'll do it.”
“Are you sure?” Hermes squeezed Arya's hand.
Arya returned Hermes squeeze and said, ”I'm sure.” she turned to look at Hermes, again saying, ”I need to do this, Hermes. If they need help, then who am I to refuse? Besides, I've always wanted to sail on the ocean.” a sad smile crossed her face but her determination was absolute.
“Alright,” Hermes resigned with a sigh, “Just don't forget to come home, okay?”
Arya scooted closer to Hermes and gave the woman a tight hug, ”Thank you. I won't forget, not ever.”
With a small smile Hermes wrapped her arms around the girl and gave her a loving squeeze, “Good.”
Xiaoli sighed into the casserole. “Are you certain you wouldn’t want more time to think about this, Arya? Life away from home can be quite daunting and… Well… Dangerous. Are you willing to risk your life bringing… What is it you’re bringing?”
“His Holiness K’nell did not specify and it was not this servant’s right to inquire further,” Qiang Yi answered diligently. The others nodded - as did Xiaoli.
“Naturally, yet the fact remains that lives will be at risk… Are you certain you’re willing to do that?”
Hermes seemed to pale slightly at the mention of risk and she looked over at Arya almost pleadingly.
”I know, perhaps we all do, that life is unpredictable and dangerous. But I'm willing to risk my own, in debt to those no longer with us and for those going. It’s the right thing to do.” Arya said passionately.
“Her life will be paramount, naturally,” Zeng En added.
“And please, do not consider it a debt to our people. Do not feel bound to join us if guilt is what drives you,” Qiang Yi insisted.
“It ain’t a good motivator,” Zhen-zhen said as she inspected her nails.
She listened to them speak and knew in her heart what they said was true. Her guilt was a driving factor, but that was not the only thing. The servants were but a group of mortals in a world with gods and dangers so great they could be wiped out in an instant. They needed her help, for Arya knew that quests gods gave, were seldom without challenge. Xiaoli and Hermes could not join them, not with the twins. It was up to her. She had to prove herself, and not just to them…
”Even without my guilt, I would join you, Captain. Quests are a challenge, I know all too well what they bring. It'll be fine. I'll be fine. “ she finally said.
“I guess we can't stop you, if this is what you want to do,” Hermes sighed, “I'm sorry, it's just -- you're like a daughter to me, and I'd hate for anything to happen.” She looked over at Xiaoli as if asking for help, “Maybe Arya can use the flute until she gets back, just in case?”
At the mention of daughter, Arya's eyes went wide and she attacked Hermes again with a hug, burying her face into the woman's chest, causing the Dreamer to give a startled yelp. Hermes brought her arms around Arya and gave her another squeeze.
”I'll be fine. I have something to come back too, after all.” Arya murmured.
“And you always will,” Hermes tightened her grip and then released the girl, “Right, Xiaoli?” She looked over at her partner with a mirthful grin.
Xiaoli faced away from the group, but could not help but let out a somber sniff. “Y-yeah, you always have a home here, dear…” Xiaoli turned around, revealing a pair of misty eyes, and fished the flute out from her dress. “Here… You’ll need this on the journey.” She sat down next to her and offered it with two open hands.
Arya tentatively reached out and took the instrument. It was smooth, she found, and light.
”Thank you, Lady Xiaoli. I will make sure to keep good care of this. It’s very beautiful.” she said with wide eyes.
“It will put dangerous beasts to sleep,” Hermes patted her partner’s back, eyes on the clearly upset Xiaoli, “Use it as often as you want, please. Better safe than sorry, too!” Hermes paused, “Oh no, I sound like…”
“A mother?” Xiaoli proposed with a sad smile. “Yes,” Hermes gave a wink and looked back at her guests, “I’m sorry to put you all between family matters, uh.” She looked over at the casserole Xiaoli had been working on and slowly began to rise to her feet, but Xiaoli rose up faster.
“Don’t worry, dear, I’ll get it.” The river girl shuffled over to the casserole, grabbed a stone spoon and stirred around a little.
The captain waved in a friendly, dismissive matter. “Oh, no! Nothing to worry about. We hope we are not intruding.” He put his teacup down and smiled warmly at Arya. “We are more than grateful for your aid, my lady. Of course, Your quarters shall be the finest aboard the ship. Li Shan will personally make you a proper bed.”
With a happy heart, Arya turned to the captain and said, ”Though I have no doubt of Li Shan’s expertise, all I require is modesty. I do not need my quarters so fine, I’m perfectly happy making do with what you all use.”
Li Shan hung his head. Both Zhen-zhen and Zeng En made brief, slight frowns. Qiang Yi blinked at the carpenter and sighed. “W-well, if that is Your wish, then of course, you, too, shall have a hammock - though I estimate that you may be a little too…” He rubbed his fingers together pensively. “... Tall to fit.”
Arya flinched at their responses and mentally sighed. Right- Servants. ”Hmm, well, if that’s the case, then a bed will have to do.” she said looking at Li Shan with a smile.
The carpenter beamed. “It shall be a work worthy of Your holy being,” he said with a seated bow. Xiaoli by the stove snapped her fingers and bowls floated from the shelves on the walls over to the table and placed themselves comfortably in front of each seated guest. Xiaoli picked up the large casserole and patrolled around the table, serving a bowlful of a reddish-brown stew to each guest.
“Hermes, would you fetch a bottle of strawberry juice from the shelf over there, please?” She pointed to a shelf on the opposite wall crowded with bottles as she replaced the casserole on top of the dying embers of the stone hearth.
“Yup yup,” Hermes chimed as she rose to her feet and quickly swiped the bottle. She pinched a cluster of thin stone cups together and brought the entire assembly to the table. She passed everyone a cup and handed Xiaoli the bottle, “There you go!”
“Thank you, sweetgrass,” Xiaoli said with a loving smile and unwrapped the cloth cover around the mouth of the bottle. She poured everyone’s glasses approximately seventy percent full with mechanical accuracy.
“Oh, Hermes! We should begin to plan the wedding feast! We ought to start preparing food and drink.”
“O-oh,’” Hermes froze mid-sit and slowly descended, “Right…” She looked embarrassingly at the eyes that now bore into her. She weakly smiled and cleared her throat, “What, uh. What's it suppose to be like?”
“A wedding feast?!” Qiang Yi blurted out with a grin; Zeng En sighed happily; Li Shan joined in; Zhen-zhen smirked. “To think we would have the honour of hearing such--”
“Captain Qiang Yi,” Xiaoli said warmly, though her voice was tainted by a cold, stern tone. “If you and your lieutenants would be so kind and cooperative as to not share these news with anyone, we would be eternally grateful.”
Qiang Yi looked dumbstruck for a second. “B-but My Lady, tradition encourages--”
“One to invite peoples of all four winds - yes, I am quite aware of the tradition. However, we…” Xiaoli sat down next to Hermes and put her arm around her hip. “... Have our reasons to keep the guest list as short as possible. So we are thankful for your willingness to keep it a secret.”
Qiang Yi shook his head and frowned. “With all due respect, My Lady--”
“We are thankful - for your willingness - to keep it a secret,” Xiaoli said with ice in her voice. The captain gulped and put his teacup to his lips, his eyes darting all about to avoid the murderous stare of the river girl.
“N-naturally, My Lady,” he eventually mumbled. “Not a soul shall hear of it from our lips.”
Xiaoli smiled warmly. “Fantastic. So, Hermes, we, of course, need to provide wine and meats in great quantities. I reckon that if we set perhaps a few barrels of cider to brew over the next few months, we could have a decent tasting welcome drink for when the guests arrive - however, as the feast likely will last a day or three, we will naturally need much more than that…”
Hermes put her hands over Xiaoli's grasp and nodded, eyes still flecked with concern over the guests, “Hey Xiaoli?”
“Hmm?”
“Remember when I said food was stressful?” She mused with an overwhelmed sigh, “Maybe we can talk about it later, in our room. We do have guests.” She defended.
Xiaoli blinked over at the nigh-shivering captain and sighed. “Alright, you’re right. Forgive my tone, captain. I should not have brought it up.”
“Th-there is nothing to forgive! Th-this servant stepped out of line and inquired too much. It should ask for forgiveness.” He tipped forward curtly. Xiaoli nodded.
“Well, let us eat some, shall we?” she said and ate a spoonful of stew. Upon seeing her eat, the sailors all dug in with gusto. Hermes let out a relieved sigh and in tandem with Arya, they all began to eat.
Hermes: The Martial Artist, The Scholar, The Dancer, The Mother, The Quick 3+35=38
Arya: The Learner, The Martial Dancer +20 Prestige Starting +1 For Minor Role +1 For Major Role +1 For Jolly Collaboration = +23 Prestige Ending
+6 Prestige on Fighting +6 Prestige on Dancing +6 Prestige on Martial Dancing. +1FP for flight. +2FP for ‘evil eyes’ ability. Causes nightmares to those that distress Arya.
boat boys on no longer on a boat! They are chilling at the ‘Pog when captain bumps into Xiaoli. The three first lieutenants get invited over for dinner -- they bump into Arya. She’s all, fuck I killed your progenitors and they are all shit son you did but it’s cool. Hermes is all stuck in her room like why the fuck do babies never shut the fuck up, so they magic the kids to sleep and go get some taco bell.
At the local taco bell, the three lieutenants, the captain, Arya, Xiaoli, and Hermes talk. Arya decides to join them on their next mission, Xiaoli gives her the flute, and Hermes informs Arya that she is now adopted. The end.
“You’ve go to run!” Yupilgo hissed, the skinny hunter’s face red with adrenaline. Antorophu nearly dropped the fish she was descaling. She sat outside her dwelling, a pit dug in the ground and covered by reeds. The salty sea air screamed in bursts around them, kicking up dirt from the rocky shoreline.
“What?”
“I overheard,” Yupilgo puffed for air, “They are coming for you -- going to kill your children.”
“What!?” Antorophu stood up in horror.
“They’ve gone too far,” Yupilgo pushed past Antorophu, “Thumfatem is dead, Hoshaf wants you -- clean.” The hunter tore off the reeds, revealing two scared looking selka pups, one barely a toddler and the other standing with wide worried eyes. Antorophu quickly rushed between her children and the hunter.
“How do you know all this, what’s happening?”
Yupilgo grabbed Antorophu by the shoulder and held her tight, her face paling, “Grab you children and ru-”
A spear whizzed by, clanking off the stones, and in the distance a group of shouting selka were running. Yupilgo pushed Antorophu and the woman clamored for her youngest, scooping him up in her arms. Yupilgo wrestled the squirming and scared older son in his own, enduring several nasty bites.
“Dradinku,” Antorophu went to correct her child, but a stiff hand from Yupilgo pushed her forward, “Move!”
The two began to run. The rocks shifted under their feet, but their trained legs quickly found new ones as they bolted. The shouts grew and the occasional spear whizzed by, but Yupilgo wove in zig zags, goading Antorophu to do the same. Their shins shredded as they cut into the thickets on the edge of the beach. Boughs slapped at them and they ducked their heads, covering the children and their own eyes. The sounds of the other selka erupted as they too entered the thickets, their voices louder and closer.
The two dodged trees, juking left and right. Antorophu began to slow down, while Yupilgo kept his hunter’s pace. Then there was a curdled scream and Yupilgo skidded to a halt and turned. HE saw Antorophu on the ground, her body covering her baby, blood pouring from her thigh. The white of her bone was exposed, and a stone tipped spear laid next to her, having rebounding out of the wound. Yupilgo dashed towards her but hesitated as her eyes met his. The group behind her was closing in and he could see her wishes. He sucked in a breath and held Dradinku close. Sending a shivering gulp down his throat, he turned and ran.
The group of warrior selka quickly surrounded Antorophu as she sat up. She held her motionless baby in her lap, and the spear in her arms, blood pooling off of her. One of the selka took a step forward, and with hate in her eyes, she plunged the head of her spear into her stomach. She coughed, eyes wide as the other selka stared on in shock. Slowly she slumped over to her side, her child slipping off her lap, as motionless as her.
Yupilgo’s legs began to tire but he kept running. He couldn’t see or hear them anymore but he didn’t want to try his luck. One leg after the other he ran and ran. Thoughts raced through his mind, and just as he thought he may be in the clear, he heard a shout and his blood ran cold. Not wanting to see where the shout came from, her kept his eyes forward and pumped his legs.
The ground flew by underneath him as he ran, trees cutting past his vision and his face red with strain. Branches slapped at his arms and cut up his legs, but he kept Dradinku safely tucked under his forearms. Foot after foot, leg over leg, he ran, until suddenly the ground was gone. He broke through a dense thicket, only to find that he had ran off a small bluff. He felt his heart in his throat as the world slowed down. All he could feel was air rush past him, air and the tiny heartbeat he held safely against him. Closing his eyes, he tucked his body into a fetal position, attempting to maneuver Dradinku to the safest place he could think of. The wind howled, and there was a splash and a crack.
Loud crying woke Yupilgo up, a warm pool forming on the back of his head. His fingers ran through what he could guess was the moss of a river bank. He could hear the water, but he couldn't see it. He opened his eyes, but they were already open. He reached around, brow furrowing. The world was colorless, Dradinku was crying.
Yupilgo, one of Panganeem’s old friends warns Antorophu about the danger she is in. She doesn’t believe him at first but soon gets the message. Yupilgo snags her eldest son while she grabs her baby son. The two flee a mob but Antorophu and her baby are caught.
She commits suicide and her baby is crushed
Yupilgo escapes with the eldest son: Dradinku, but becomes blind after smashing his head off a rock
The wagon bumped as it hit a clump of dirt in the road, causing Renevin’s bag to shift. It sat between him and the young driver, the dark farmhand’s eyes widening as the treasures inside the bag twinkled.
“Spellsword stones?” The farmhand asked incredulously, eyes bouncing from the road and back onto four palm sized orbs. Three of them held the chaos of a lightning storm behind their glass viel, the fourth a certain darkness that swallowed the midday sun. Renevin tugged the bag closed and nodded curtly.
“Don’t think too far into it,” Renevin advised, but the farmhand’s eyes were already twinkling. He shifted closer, causing D’Bran and Hondros to twist in their seats on the bed of hay from behind. Hondros cleared his throat.
“Trinkets, really,” He defended.
“So you guys really are Praxians!” The farmhand seemed to have ignored their advice, “Oh, wow. I thought you guys were a myth.”
D’Bran scrunched his nose, “Legends maybe, but a myth?”
“We told you who we were when we paid your father for the wagon,” Renevin furrowed his brow and tapped his dark runic armor.
“Well yeah, but I just thought you were a bunch of--” The farmhand bit his tongue as he saw Renevin’s brows slant, “What I mean to say is, I hear a lot of stories.”
“Either way,” Hondros commanded from his nest of hay, “Let’s keep our wits, we are paying you for a ride, not a chat.”
“Remind me why we are even doing that?” D’Bran groaned.
“Lightyr,” Hondros reminded, “He figured horses would be too expensive, between feed and stalling.”
“True,” Renevin shrugged, “This is cheaper.”
“Hey!” The farmhand made a face.
“Relax, we aren’t calling you cheap,” D’Bran scoffed, “Just your… you know... job?”
“D’Bran,” Renevin scolded. The wagon fell into a certain silence, the sound of the wheels grinding over the dirt road conquering. Birds chirped in the distance, and on all sides there was green, sun soaked fields. The four sat still, eyes glazed over at the sights until finally the farmhand peeped, “Sooo… did you guys really fight alongside the gods?”
“Well that’s a casual question,” Renevin sighed and D’Bran leaned forward, but before the sandy cheeked man could speak Hondros butted in.
“Not personally, but our order did,” Hondros answered, causing D’Bran to roll his eyes, “The first Cacophony,” Hondros droned, “The Brother’s Harmony was at the rift in the veil, holding the tide against the forces of the Taint, and you know who was standing there with them?”
“The Praxian Storm Guard,” The Farmhand’s eyes glistened.
“Makes sense when you think about it,” Renevin offered, “Considering Prax is the name of one of the Brother’s Harmony.”
“Allegedly,” D’Bran cut in and leaned up from his seat, “Prax could have just been a powerful warrior king, and Solam the same.”
“But--” The farmhand looked confused, “They are gods!”
“History is funny like that,” D’Bran offered, a sigh coming from Renevin.
“Kid,” Hondros waved a hand at D’Bran urging him to sit back down, “You’re going to meet a lot of people in this world.” His eyes drifted to the endless fields and rows of crops, “Or maybe not, but the point is… everyone has their theory. Now if you ask me, it is as the story goes: The Praxian Storm Guard stood beside the Brother’s Harmony and aided them in the fight against the Taint.”
“And the pacification,” Renevin added.
“They say on the mainland of Yzaille, the Serenists believe different,” The farm boy looked at Renevin, “and that the pacification was the true salvation.”
Renevin cocked a brow, “You’re going to meet a lot of people.”
Hondros snickered and squinted his eyes, “Say boy.”
“Yeah?”
“What’s that on the horizon,” He pointed with his gloved hand at the dark line appearing on one of the hills. “Paulos’ tavern, beyond it is the village of Tephni.”
Hondros nodded, “Tephni, someone there ought to know where our mark is.”
“What’s your mark again?” The boy looked at Hondros, who stuttered.
“Chickens,” Renevin grinned.
“Big ones,” D’Bran added.
The boys are back and out looking for a dragon. They chat with a local, and go into the lore of the Praxian Storm Guards. They also reveal that they have "spellsword stones" They pull up to an inn for info. Sorry it's a short post. Been busy and just wanted to get something out.
The bedroom was dark as usual, but the atmosphere was far from somber. The dull light of the Garden shone through the paper window and streaked across the bed in a fuzzy circle, but by the wardrobe stood what could in many ways be described as a second source of light, just from all the happiness radiation.
Xiaoli could barely stop herself from shaking with joy. Finally, o, finally - it was her turn to dream! So excited was she that she put on her night shirt the wrong way and turned to Hermes with a broad grin.
“HERMES!” she all but shouted. “Can you believe it?! Aren’t you excited?! We get to see the Palace - together!” The river girl skipped around in circles with bubbly giggles and squeals.
Hermes was splayed on her back, her eyes watching Xiaoli with a certain amusement and a soft smile, “Don’t work yourself up too much or you’ll never get to sleep.”
“I know, I know! It’s just--” She took a deep breath through the nose and let out a quiet squeal as she pressed her arms against her chest and hopped up and down a few times. “I have to get it out! I have been waiting for this since the day you first told me about your dreams. I want it to be…” She slowly pushed her palms down and outwards while breathing out. “Perfect.” Then she promptly hopped onto the bed.
“Well,” Hermes scooted over and closed her eyes, “I don’t want to get your hopes up but -- a dream can show you happiness in its purest form.” She smudged her face between a pillow and Xiaoli’s hair, “But you already got that, yeah?” Her voice muffled.
“Yeah, that’s the soul of my excitement - oh, I cannot wait to see what the Palace is like. Will it be prettier than Jiangzhou?” She shuffled a little closer to Hermes, taking her rightful place as the little spoon.
“Mm, I don’t think it’s wise to answer that,” Hermes’ ended her sentence with a slight yawn and a ‘ppbt’. Xiaoli giggled knowingly and turned her head on the side. “Yeah, better not.” She gave Hermes a grin, adjusted her posture just enough to face her and planted a peck on her forehead. “Will you be waiting for me there, my love?”
Hermes opened her eyes and gave Xiaoli a swift kiss on the tip of her nose, “I will be.” She closed her eyes and buried her face, “Now, let’s sleep. The twins --” She yawned, “Drain… ing…” There was a hot burst of air as Hermes gave a sleep sigh, inching closer to sleep.
Xiaoli smiled warmly at the woman. She reached down and gently caressed her protruding stomach. “Yeah… I imagine they are,” she whispered softly to herself. Then, eventually, Xiaoli closed her eyes and let out a quiet gurgle.
It all swirled together. Greys and blues mixed. The void speckled with colourless whites, and a freezing warmth washed over Xiaoli. It took a matter of seconds, but each tick of the clock felt like an lifetime, until finally Xiaoli’s vision focused. Golds and whites bobbed to and fro, forming the dresses of the countless dresses in the gilded ballroom. The gurgle of melodies sharpened, and her ears were disarmed with the pleasant symphonies of the string.
She stood in the middle of the ever flowing flood of dancers. Under her was a gleaming marble tile, and before her, through the pairs of dark dressed gentlemen and their sharp partners was a dias. Up the steps of this center-room dias was a massive piano, a throne beside it. At its keys the Lord of Dreams himself played, letting loose echoing notes that tugged on Xiaoli’s heart for reasons she wasn’t totally aware of. A swell of warmth spilled from her chest and curled in her throat. A cough formed, and happy tears wet her eyes, blurring her vision once more.
A gentle hand came to her face and wiped her eyes clear. Her vision sharpened once more, peering directly into the smile of Hermes, her body dressed in the flowing cream-coloured dress of a dancer. Over Hermes’ shoulder Arya could be seen among the other dancers, in the very same dress she had worn at the estate, if not a little brighter and a touch more otherworldly. The rhythm of the dance controlled her very being as she weaved through the crowd, her dress like a thousand shooting stars.
Xiaoli gulped and looked down at her own gown, its sky blue cotton fabrics extending a little outwards over her hips, with frills around the edges. Her arms were bare, the dress stopping at the frilly shoulder straps, and her hands wore white cotton gloves. She tapped her feet against the tiles, hearing the unfamiliar slap of hide against stone. She discreetly stuck her foot out from underneath her dress and blinked at the black leather shoes. She took a few steps and felt her legs buckle ever so slightly.
“Th-this is somewhat unusual,” she mumbled as she approached Hermes with the steadiness of a toddler.
Hermes snaked a hand around her waist, a chuckle on her smile, “Do you want to try a different outfit?”
Xiaoli gave her a look of resolve. “N-no, this is fine! I’ll mana-WOAH!-manage.” She shuffled carefully closer to K’nell and knelt forward to kowtow. However, she realised that her dress was quite a lot roomier than usual, and the skirt did not fold properly under her knees. As she leaned forward with her torso, the skirt sprawled in all directions, making her look a little like a wilted blue flower.
“Your Holiness K’nell - it is an honour to be allowed into Your palace. This servant has waited a long time for this.” Her firm, determined voice contrasted the overall silliness of her clothes combating her culture.
“A pleasure to have you, my dear,” K'nell's voice swirled by her ear yet he continued to play, “I do hope you find your time enjoyable.”
A warm hand pressed lightly on Xiaoli's back and Hermes scooched down, hanging her voice below the sound of the music, “Xiaoli?”
Xiaoli shot a sideways look upwards. “Hermes, what have we discussed about interrupting my kowtow?”
“I know,” Hermes nodded, “But let K'nell play his music, he will address us when he is done.”
“It's quite alright,” K'nell stood up, his piano still playing. He took one step down from the top step of the dias and flashed a cheshire smile, “This is Xiaoli's first dream, what kind of host would I be to neglect her so immediately.”
“O-oh,” Xiaoli eventually whimpered. Her forehead once again fell to the floor. “This servant apologises profusely for its insolence in interrupting Your Holiness’ musical performance!”
“It's of no issue,” K'nell waved a hand, “Come, stand and enjoy the ball, I implore you.”
Upon hearing the imploration, Xiaoli rocketed to her feet. “O-of course, Your Holiness. Th-thank You.” She then bowed and walked backwards for a bit until she had reached the centre of the floor. She straightened herself up, cleared her throat and blinked.
“H-Hermes? Arya? Wh-what do I do now?”
Hermes snagged Xiaoli's hands and pulled her close. A smile formed on her lips, “You dance, have fun and relax. The night is ours.”
”Lady Xiaoli!” Came Arya’s voice, distant at first but gaining until the girl was dancing around them. ”Oh you look amazing, Lady Xiaoli. You too Hermes! I’ve never been in a dream with others before, this is so much fun!” she said, twirling with laughter before settling her eyes back on the pair, ”Well? What are you waiting for! Go on and dance!”
Hermes cocked a curious brow at Xiaoli, as if waiting for the stunned river-girls response. Xiaoli blinked, the memories of the many nights on the beaches alongside her love slowly returning to her mind. She placed a sheepish palm on Hermes’ shoulder and laced her other with Hermes’ hand.
“C-could you lead?” she asked with an embarrassed smile.
“Of course,” Hermes leaned in, pressing against her partner as they slowly melded with the melody of the piano and string. Their dance was slow at first but slowly sped up, until the momentum carried Xiaoli in many colorful swirls. Xiaoli struggled a little to keep up, her leather-soled shoes slapping against the tiles in disharmony with the rhythm. Little by little, however, she was entranced by the music, her partner’s movements and Arya spinning in orbit around them.
“Hey,” Hermes suddenly whispered in Xiaoli's ear. The pair spun through a gap between two other dancers.
Xiaoli broke out of her trance and blinked. “Y-yes?” she said faintly.
“Want to see something amazing?” Hermes looked over Xiaoli's face with an adventurous grin.
Through a snort and a giggle, Xiaoli managed to squeeze through an “okay” and gave her a wink. Hermes’ grip tightened on her hand and the woman quickly danced Xiaoli over to the large door that stood sentry over the ball room. Its massive stature was lined with intricate carvings that reflected the lights of the ballroom. A tiny wisp of a weaver floated by the two and Hermes smiled.
“Door, please.”
The great door cracked open, just enough for the Dreamer to slip through, tucking her dress close. She turned to Xiaoli and held her hand through the opening, “Come on.” The river girl hesitated a little and looked over her shoulder for a moment. She quickly turned back, though, took her hand and skipped through the door.
Xiaoli nearly bumped into the smiling Hermes as she slipped through. The two stood in an unending hallway, studded with doors and strange art. Xiaoli could hardly describe it, but wherever she wasn't looking, things seemed to disappear, making her peripherals a tad fuzzy. She felt Hermes squeeze her hand and then there was another tug followed by an energetic laugh from the Dreamer.
One of the doors opened wide and Hermes pulled Xiaoli through. Inside there was a spiral staircase cut out of a single blue stone. Its stretched further up than even the avatar could see. Circular brick encased the stairwell and Hermes’ eyes sparkled.
“It's just up there,” She informed, tugging Xiaoli's hand again.
“A-alright, alright!” Xiaoli said through her laughter. “Be careful with the twins, though--” As they began to run up the stairs, she let out a hum. “Can they be affected by anything in the dream, actually?”
“No,” Hermes looked back at Xiaoli with a wink, “Dreams are safe.” Despite the size of the staircase, somehow the next few steps brought the pair to another large door. A weaver popped out of its keyhole.
“I want to show Xiaoli the observatory,” Hermes squeezed the river girls hand. The weaver zipped back into the lock and there was a loud clang, the door swinging open.
Inside a vast black onyx floor stretched. Great twisting pillars rose from all sides, coming together directly above in a dome, housing webs of crystal clear glass between them, and revealing a sight that stole Xiaoli's breath.
Above was a great void that would have sucked her vision clear if not for the great alien bodies that swirled in it. Distant orbs of unimaginable scale floated, their bodies wrapped in clouds and colours. Beside them sparkled marks of even further bodies that decorated the black canvas. A great shimmering veil seemed to snake and weave between each of them, creating various sections of sky that rivaled the celestial map of Galbar itself.
Xiaoli stood slack-jawed at the sight, her legs seemingly forgetting their main purpose as she took a few buckling steps forward. The blinking lights twinkled against her skin of sand and struck her watery eyes with a streaking shine not quite unlike the reflection of the Lustrous Garden upon the water holes of the tree-eater plains. She turned to Hermes, her dilated pupils nearly filling her whole irises.
“H-Hermes, I… This is…” She looked back up at the skydome, struggling to produce adjectives worthy of painting the sight.
“I know,” Hermes smiled and looked up, “it's almost as beautiful as you.”
Xiaoli turned to Hermes in a flash of motion, her face a dumbstruck, silent ‘oh’. She then let out a snorting giggle and hid her blushing face behind her non-existent sleeves. She then inclined her head forward a little and gave Hermes a flirtatious look, her eyes staring upwards through her brow and the right edge of her lower lip trapped by a gentle bite. She took a few exaggerated slow steps towards the Dreamer, placing a soft, gloved hand on her cheek once close enough.
“... And as opposed to this skydome, I am -all- yours.” She then leaned in and pressed her silky lips against hers. The moment having seized Hermes’ mind as well, she didn’t even blink, but instead closed her eyes slowly and pushed gently back. Xiaoli’s undressed arms snaked their way behind Hermes’ back, tickling her with their grainy texture. As their breaths grew ragged and their faces hot, their grips around one another grew near desperate to the point that the presence of the bump between became very apparent to them both. Xiaoli blinked and looked down with a quiet snicker.
“... Oh, what are we doing, acting like this in front of the twins?” she mused and leaned down a bit, placing her hand on Hermes protruding belly.
Hermes placed her chin a top Xiaoli’s shoulder and gave a mirthful sigh, “I don’t think they mind; they can’t see.” Xiaoli giggled again.
“Maybe not… But I think they might feel it when our hearts beat like this,” she said with a sweet hum. She cupped Hermes’ chin in her hand and pulled her in for one final peck.
“I hope Arya’s not feeling left out,” she then said.
Hermes nodded, “I know, me too -- but.” She let her hands fall into Xiaoli’s, “It’s nice sometimes, when it’s just us... like before everything got busy.”
Xiaoli squeezed Hermes’ hands affectionately. “I think so, too, dear… We won’t have long left now with just the two of us. Arya is, well, free to come and go if she should wish, but the twins will always be there.” She looked down at her belly again. “It’s funny, almost. When you were blessed with fertility and I with compatibility, I could not wait to have children - now in hindsight, maybe we could have spent more time as just the two of us…”
There was a pause. “Oh, listen to me ramble,” Xiaoli eventually mumbled as she played with a lock of Hermes’ messy hair.
“I don’t regret it,” Hermes fell into a wide, plush cherry-wood chair that neither of them had noticed before, “But I think you’re right.” She fiddled with a knot in her hair, “Then again, even if we waited, it feels like the world wouldn’t have given us the time, anyways. We even had a God come after me.” She patted the cushion beside her and Xiaoli plopped down into it. She adjusted herself to the odd sensation of a soft chair and eventually laid her head on Hermes’ shoulder and closed her eyes. She sighed softly.
“If you don’t regret it, then I’m happy,” she whispered. “... I just… Hope we can keep having moments like these when nobody else looks.” She laced her fingers with those of Hermes’ nearest hand.
Hermes folded her fingers around Xiaoli’s and let her cheek lean against Xiaoli’s head, “I think we will… You would have told me if this was all too much for you, right?” Hermes suddenly asked.
Xiaoli’s hair rubbed back and forth against Hermes’ cheek, indicating a nod. “Of course, I would, dear, though I don’t think there’s any need to worry when it comes to that. You’re pretty easy to handle.” She looked up with a smug, playful smirk. “I’m more concerned that I’m too much sometimes.”
Hermes looked at Xiaoli and softly shook her head, “No, I don’t think so. We’ve both had our moments, but I wouldn’t go so far to say that you are too much. I think you are just right… I couldn’t have asked for a better partner in life, you know.”
“Oh, Hermes…” Xiaoli said with quivering lips. She took a deep breath, then another. “We-...” She paused for a third. “We should get married.”
“Married?” Hermes furrowed her brow. Xiaoli blinked, sat up straight and stared at her with raised eyebrows.
“You-... Don’t know what marriage is?” she asked slowly.
Hermes frowned and shook her head, “I never heard of it.”
Xiaoli blinked again, cleared her throat and shuffled her feet a little. “W-well, marriage is… When two people love each other very much, and decide they want to live a life together, they make sort of a-... A sacred vow, if you will: one to bind them together in the sight of gods and mortals. His Lordship intends it to be a rather important part of mortal life, once, well, mortal life comes along.” She prodded her index fingers together. “I’m just thinking, you know, since we want to stay with each other for life, we may as well swear it in the face of the Exalted Creators.”
“I-” Hermes bit her finger, “I want to… but I have one question.”
Xiaoli looked a little anxious for a moment, but nodded. “Yeah, go on.”
“Well,” Hermes sighed, “You know how Vakk tried to kill me, and all this other stuff. I guess I’m a little worried of bringing too much attention back to our home. I love you so much and yes I want to get married, but I’m a little worried -- or anxious… I guess, about these things. I guess that wasn’t really a question.”
“O-oh, that’s what you wanted to say. Oh, phew.” Xiaoli grinned. “For a moment, I was afraid it was going to be-.. Okay, it’s not that important. Either way, what’s great about a Shengshese wedding is that one can choose what gods to tell of the ceremony - well, as long as one at least includes His Lordship, as it is a Shengshese wedding - so we could keep it a secret from everyone except His Lordship and His Holiness K’nell!”
The Dreamer seemed to relax at this and sunk back into the chair, “Oh good. I’m not going to lie, ever since… well the incident, I’ve been a little anxious. It’s good to know I have control over something for once.” She leaned against Xiaoli, and gave a happy sigh, “Let’s get married.” Xiaoli beamed into the air and leaned her cheek against Hermes’ hair. “Yeah.”
“Arya,” K’nell’s voice swirled as the last song ended, the ballroom starting to clear. The dancing had been long and vastly energetic, but now only the lingering vibrations of the string filled the halls, the piano vaporizing into nothingness, and leaving the throne dias free.
Arya had danced and danced to her hearts delight, having lost herself in the rhythm long, long ago. It had just seemed like a moment ago Hermes and Xiaoli had scampered off, Arya smiling as they disappeared, and then groaning at the thought of what they were doing. This didn’t deter her however, and she let them be, doing whatever lovers do.
Now when K’nell called out her name, Arya found herself practically alone on the dance floor and twirled to a stop, looking up to the gentleman.
”Yes K’nell?” she asked out of breath.
“Have you enjoyed yourself, my dear?” The God slowly sat in his throne, a chair appearing near Arya.
”Yes! Though I wished I could have danced with Lady Xiaoli and Hermes.” she said sadly, sitting down in the chair and crossing her legs, chin resting on the palm of her hand as she looked up at K’nell again.
“You’ll get your chance,” K’nell waved a hand, “I can only imagine how much those two needed a little… rendezvous away from it all.” He smiled and shook his head, “Ah, but I do have a question for you, my dear. It had occurred to me that I should give you yet another choice.”
”Oh don’t get me wrong, though I am sad, I am also happy for them. But another choice? What might that be?” she asked curiously.
“Would you like me to contact your father on your behalf, and let him know that you are safe?” K’nell folded his hands, “I need not tell him where you are, or anything of the matter. I could even do it anonymously, as easy as breathing. I figured it was a choice worth knowing that you have.”
Arya blinked, then shifted in the chair, looking away from K’nell to the floor. That was certainly a choice to make. She didn’t know if it was even a good idea. Would her father even care? A part of her strongly wanted to tell K’nell no, but the god had told her not to give up on her father. Perhaps, she shouldn’t be too hasty.
Arya looked back up at K’nell and said in a soft voice, ”Okay, do it.”
K’nell blinked, “You know, dear,” He started, “it wouldn’t be beyond reason to want to take some more time to think about this, but if you are absolutely sure -- a simple please and I’ll make it happen.”
”I know, i know.” she sighed, ”I’m sorry K’nell, that came out… quickly. If you would please contact my father, I would be thankful. After all, someone once told me that, I shouldn’t give up so easily. Even for the smallest of chances.” she said with a playful wink.
“Very well,” K’nell smiled his unending smile, “Then perhaps you would like to wake up, good news radiates in the land of the awake.”
”I’d like that.” Arya mused.
There was a snap, and the world awaited.
Xiaoli is fuckin excited to sleep bruh, and Hermes is like WOAH PATNAH you’ll never fall asleep bouncing like that. Eventually she leaps into bed and they fall asleep. In the dream they find themselves at the ball with Arya. Xiaoli is dressed in a dress. Anyways she tries her kowtow stuff while K’nell is playing music and while he doesn’t seem to mind, Hermes suggests maybe letting him finish before interrupting him.
K’nell doesn’t care too much and welcomes her to the dreamscape. The two dance for a while and then sneak aaway to have some alone time. They find an observatory and makeout, they talk about life, and then decide to get married (yeah that simple).
back at the ball, K’nell asks Arya if she would like him to contact her father, she agrees.
the end.
Hermes: The Martial Artist, The Scholar, The Dancer, The Mother, The Quick, The Big Spoon (joke) 3+29=32
Arya: The Learner, The Martial Dancer +16 Prestige Starting +1 For Minor Role +1 For Jolly Collaboration = +18 Prestige Ending
+6 Prestige on Fighting +6 Prestige on Dancing +6 Prestige on Martial Dancing. +1FP for flight. +2FP for ‘evil eyes’ ability. Causes nightmares to those that distress Arya.
The sea danced as a dark purple, the dawn just touching the horizon. A lone selka fisherman sat in a canoe. The base had been burned to fell the tree, and the inside had been set ablaze and carved with rocks, making it a seamless tube for the old selka. He sat adrift with no tools but a humming smile, two round eyes set longingly on the horizon. A certain thump was in his heart and a certain warmth heated his soul.
“Oh ocean... my sea, Entrapped... beauty,
Colours of night, Colours of day, Steal my heart away,
A blue so bright, A ripple in sway, Steal my breath away,
Oh ocean… my sea, Entrapped… beaut--y?”
The man’s hum was cut short as his black eyes spotted two strange figures harassing a whale’s corpse on the beach behind him (his canoe having spun around during his idle singing). He strained his old ears as he paddled towards the scene.
“No Juttyu,” The more grizzled of the two chastised, “We want the big thick jaws, less perforated.”
“I’m just saying,” Juttyu, the giant of the two, debated, “These are massive, how are we going to--” He looked at the fisherman, “Uh, Panganeem?”
“Hm?” Panganeem looked up from the corpse and flinched, the fisherman having snuck onto the shore unnoticed. He squinted and rose from his inspecting position to greet the man, “Hail, friend. I’m Panganeem, this is Juttyu -- the giant.”
“I can see that,” The fisherman blinked as he witnessed the sheer size of Juttyu, “I’m Ippino, the fisherman.”
“Well met,” Panganeem nodded and looked around, “Is it just you around these parts?” “Yes,” Ippino nodded, “I’ve left my tribe behind in search of solitude.”
“Solitude?” Juttyu asked in his echoing voice.
“Yes, solitude,” Ippino said, his left eye closing as it caught the midday heliopolis, “You see, I’m from the Hyummin tribe.”
“I’ve heard of them,” Panganeem announced, “Aren’t they--?”
“The biggest of tribes? Yes,” Ippino nodded again, “But size isn’t everything and the many families of the Hyummin have made their own lands unbearable.”
“How so?” Panganeem cocked a head and leaned against the dead whale.
“They quabble and squabble,” Ippino threw his wrinkled hands in the air, “Even my own son! Argue and debate, gnash their teeth and go behind each others backs. It is madness and I simply wish to fish, enjoy my loving sea and be well.”
“Perhaps we can help,” Panganeem nudged Juttyu, who nodded.
Ippino looked at them in shock for a while, “How?”
“Well,” Panganeem crossed his arms, “I’m not sure… yet. But it is what we do, we are out to make the selka stronger in all ways by any means, and if unity is what you need, unity is what you’ll get.”
“Right,” Juttyu agreed with a heavy nod.
Ippino narrowed his eyes, “I’m an old man, so you’ll have to spell this out to an old jade, but why?”
“Because,” Panganeem started.
“We are k’nights!” Juttyu finished, soliciting a tiny glare from Panganeem.
“Kah-nights?” Ippino mouthed, “What?”
“It’s a work in progress,” Panganeem parroted Gralph, “But yes, we are K’nights and by holy decree and mortal wishes, we are out to make the selka strong.”
“Holy decree?”
“Father Kirron, you see,” Panganeem answered. “Ah, Kirron,” Ippino nodded, “Yes I know Kirron, he is the creator of the selka.”
“Yes,” Juttyu nodded.
“Husband to Delphina, too.” Ippino sighed, “Oh how I envy him.”
“Delphina?” Panganeem cocked a brow.
“Goddess of the Sea? Bride of Kirron?” Ippino looked shocked, “Come now, you must know of her.”
“I suppose I do,” Panganeem gave Juttyu a confused look, “Now, at least.”
“Mm,” Ippino folded his hands behind his back and waddled over to the lapping sea, “She pulls at my heart with her unending beauty.” His old eyes glazed over the horizon, the gentle waves pushing and pulling from the shore. A toothless smile formed on his face, “She inspires me, brings me joy. If my boat could go further, I’d find her heart, you know.” He turned to the other two and Juttyu pulled a hand from his nose, and Panganeem straightened his posture.
“Oh?” Panganeem asked as he turned to the jawbone of the whale.
“Yes,” Ippino nodded solemnly, “I’d find her heart, find her ear, and I’d whisper my poetry to her. I’d thank her for her bounty, praise her for her beauty, and then I suppose I’d not know what to do with myself any longer.”
There was a loud snap as Panganeem ripped the mandible from the skull, bits of rotten flesh hanging off of it. Juttyu looked it over, “We still need to shorten it.”
Ippino rolled his eyes, “I have tools back at my little hut, come with me. After we can discuss more about k’nights and what exactly you intend to do!”
“There,” Ippino pushed the mandible -- now cut into two clubs -- across his table to the two k’nights. They sat in a squat hut filled with fish parts and stone tools, as well as several older canoes and a plush dry grass bed. Panganeem soaked it all in when he had arrived, but was now absorbed into his new bone club.
“I think this is what Gralph had,” Panganeem smiled wide and looked to Juttyu who matched his smile.
“So,” Ippino wiped bone dust from his table with an idle hand, “You’re hunters from Grottu, intent on becoming K’nights on the idea that if you do and strengthen the selka, you yourself will be strong enough to go out and find your daughter's killer.”
Panganeem’s smiled faded, “That’s what I said, isn’t it?” Ippino held up his hands and Panganeem shook his head, “I’m sorry.”
“No,” Ippino shrugged, “I know what it is like to lose a loved one. Though he isn’t dead, somedays I feel like my son is already swimming in another life.”
“You mentioned him earlier,” Juttyu pointed out.
Panganeem nodded, “Yeah, so what has happened to the Hyummin?”
“Five families,” Ippino sighed and crackled his knuckles, “The descendants of Lornun, Kilppundu, Korsachi, Punuphu, and Gorjapi.” He paused and tugged an old whisker, “I’m a son of Gorjapi and so is my own son. He thinks it is his duty to see the Gorjapi line rise to chieftain. The problem is, every family thinks the same about their line. Oh, we are great hunters, oh! We are the best fishers. Oh! We are warriors.”
He shook his head, “When one makes a decree, the others do the opposite, when one family agrees with another, a thousand disagreements oppose them. When a family splits, even then they argue. We have no system, no chieftain. We are weak despite our size because we are divided.”
“Then it is settled,” Panganeem’s fist thumped the table, causing the other two to jump. Juttyu looked at the hunter in earnest curiosity and Panganeem smiled wide, “We will unite the families and make the Hyummin as strong as they should be, so may be blessed Father Kirron and his k’nights.”
Juttyu slammed his own fist in agreement, a crack creasing the edge of the table, “For Father Kirron and the Selka!”
The two hunters gave a tiny “rryeah!” and the old fisherman shook his head, “If you intend to do this, you will need me. They will not listen to two strangers, not alone. I may be in exile of my own choosing, but I am known as old and frail as I may be.”
“Very well,” Panganeem stood from his seat, a new energy filling his chest, “This shall be our first mark.”
There was another, quieter “Ryyeaah!”
Ippino, an old fisherman sings to his beloved sea, only to be interrupted by the vagabonds Panganeem and Juttyu The Giant.
Turns out Ippino is a self exile from the largest of Selka tribes, the Hyummin. The Hyummin have been experiencing infighting among their five families and Panganeem and Juttyu declare that they will fix it.
I'm not really a bird.
[center]-0-
Where did I play,
A land of twisted branches,
A kingdom of clay,
A swamp of memories,
A never-ending day,
Where did I run,
Across the dawn,
Through the sun,
Across the sky,
Through laughs and fun,
Where did I walk,
Pristine grass green,
White cliffs of chalk,
Pools of sky so blue,
Orchard stones that talk,
Where did I sit,
By the gates of silver,
Near endless pit,
By forever horizon,
You may remember it.[/center]
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">I'm not really a bird.<br><br><div class="bb-center">-0-<br><br>Where did I play,<br>A land of twisted branches,<br>A kingdom of clay,<br>A swamp of memories,<br>A never-ending day,<br><br>Where did I run,<br>Across the dawn,<br>Through the sun,<br>Across the sky,<br>Through laughs and fun,<br><br>Where did I walk,<br>Pristine grass green,<br>White cliffs of chalk,<br>Pools of sky so blue,<br>Orchard stones that talk,<br><br>Where did I sit,<br>By the gates of silver,<br>Near endless pit,<br>By forever horizon,<br>You may remember it.</div></div>
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