Chapter 29: The Uncaring World
“When fears become reality, what do we have left to fear? When you do everything right, to the best of your abilities, where no fault can be found. Yet we can still fail.”
***
Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Waiting D.41, Goblins
Ilgor
The thing in the corner, there it was again. That woman, that corpse again. Staring at me, through me, into me. It's a cracked smile, somehow sweet. It tried to speak again, though all that came out was coarse croak. If I had been anymore exhausted, I wouldn’t have caught that she had turned away quickly to cover her mouth in embarrassment.
Though I was dreaming, and I knew it, I still found her rotten tail curled around me comforting. I couldn't explain it, she had been looking more alive these last few months. Less like a corpse and more like a victim of starvation. Her hair having regained some of its length and color as well. No longer did I feel threatened or scared of this specter any longer, I had simply gotten used to her.
She whipped her head around to a sound I could not fathom. I never heard it, the lucidity in my dream having only gone so far, she did it again. Looking down to where I lay, she struggled to form words, her skin paling with her effort. Sitting up, placing my hand on her tail I encouraged her to speak.
“What is wrong, spirit?” I had asked, only to receive the more heartbreaking look I had ever seen.
“You need to wake up.” My mind melted at her words, warm and all consuming. Something else entirely from the first time I had heard her speak during my Ceremony. It sounded true… Sonorous, mellifluous, a song I didn’t know I needed to hear.
“You need to wake up, you need to help her down.” She said again, clearly holding back her voice this time. The cold sweat beading on her face was obvious enough, but I didn’t understand.
Her hand was cold when she touched it to my cheek, pervasive melancholy in her eyes. “She needs you, help her down.” Then I heard it, in the waking world. A coughing, phlegmy, painful. A retching noise.
My eyes shot open, bloodshot and dry. Whipping the heavy blanket off me, not particularly caring about the thin dress I wore as the winter air blew through the cave mouth. Kari, Mother. Many of the others of the Family had woken up from her pained coughing. A few beat me to getting to her, propping her head up, turning her on her side so her lungs could drain better.
***
Yvet
“Did you need me to grab more Yarrow? Y’vthch compound?” I asked her. The bags under her eyes had only grown darker these last few days. Her lips moved in silent prayers as the cave filled with pulses of her power. She eyed me with a quick glance, shaking her head in such a small movement that I would have missed it if I wasn’t watching her.
I was one of the first to begin helping her with Mother, rushing to grab whatever she asked for. I had given her my heavy jacket when she started, that thin dress not stopping much. Sitting besides her, joining in the prayer that I thought she was on. An old story, one she had loved when she was just a kid.
It told of an ancient hero that had bested a Wyvern that was harassing the clan for years. This hero had done all this without The Great Father’s assistance, back when the mountains were young and green. Before the seas had names, before the skies had mended. The small smile on her face as I guessed correctly the verse she was on made my heart flutter.
Even in this circumstance, I couldn’t help but look at her closely, she had already lost some weight. She hadn’t eaten since she began, Kari’s breathing only stabilized, but never got better. She wouldn’t leave her side, and refused to. The air was warm next to her as her magic flowed endlessly into Kari, I felt as if she were the only thing keeping her alive. Once Illy’s magic stopped, so would Mother.
“You need to rest, I can watch over her while you sleep.” I said, barely a whisper.
Her voice sounded broken, dry, desert sands given song. “I’m fine, I’ll be alright. It won’t be much longer until she’s doing better.”
My heart broke as a shock ran down my skin. She really believed that? Everyone in the Clan knew Kari wasn’t getting better, that it was only a matter of time. We would all grieve her loss, but Illy, she… I wrapped my fingers through hers, only the slightest break in her chanting told me she wasn’t expecting it. But, she squeezed my hand back, a mournful knowing look in her eyes.
I should have been happy that she didn’t reject that, but all I felt was… I don’t know. Some mix of elation, back lit by the cold reality of this being the absolutely wrong place at the wrong time. Far more worried about what she was going to do when Kari… “You’re right, I think I can hear her breathing ease a bit.”
I knew I shouldn’t have, such a simple lie. But, Illy looked a little more alive at my words.
***
Ilgor
Opening my eyes, head bouncing off my chest, groggily forcing my focus. I started where I thought I left off. Not exactly remembering where I was, the magic pulsed from my hands into her chest once more. Her breathing eased a bit, not registering that she was staring up at me.
The scene before me shifted, slightly, it felt familiar. Kari was the one on the prayer mat, hot wax dappled across her skin in the runes the family wished to see her become. Around me the family slept, confused. My hands were not my own, they were a much older pair, the skin not the same hue I was used to.
“Misry, make it stop.” Kari whispered in her sleep. What was happening? I only now noticed that Mother looked far younger, younger than me, the age worn canyons on her face gone. The speckled array across her shoulders were gone, one turn too far.
The corpse woman sat besides me, staring down at Kari. Glancing over to me she tried to speak, coming out a dry croak. “He demanded this, he mocks this ritual too?”
Visions of countless others swam past my eyes, lives I never lived, thoughts I never had. Her own ceremony, the blessing of Bhal gifted to her by the Mother before, Misry. The floor opened below me, the Corpse women trying to grab my hand to keep me from falling. It didn’t help, her rapidly shrinking form told me as much.
“Who mocks what?” I asked to the open air, voice lost in the rushing air.
I landed hard, my ribs screamed at me for using them to cushion my fall. I was still in the cave, kari still on the cot I had set up for her. Finding just a bit more effort I pushed myself up off the floor. My side had a different opinion about what I should have been doing, but I needed to check on Mother.
Reaching her side, she still stared up at me, glassy eyes. “Mother? Mother!” I yelled. She didn’t react, voice on tired ears, dead eyes. Her lips moved, a wave of relief was washed away by horror. It wasn’t her, a man's voice in place of hers. Her eyes burned in their sockets, it spoke again as I stumbled back.
“Two to one, one too many. Echoes heard in the lost, to whom has she spoken? You, you need to wake.”
“Ilgor, Illy!” Cori’s voice screamed into my ear, the world jostled around. I was being shaken awake, fervently so apparently. The icy maw of winter’s cold bit into my skin. The icy hanging off my hair was my give away, that nightmare. I had lost control in my sleep again.
With a forceful pull, painful in my chest as I did so, I halted the blizzard I had summoned into the cave. Like flowers poking through the spring grass, did my Family uncurl themselves around each other. Shielding themselves from my loss of control, I thought back to when I did this not long after my own Ceremony of Bhal. At least back then it was the middle of summer, not the dead of winter.
“I’m sorry, Cori…” Heat from my face steamed in the cold air, touched by shame I turned back to Kari. My eyes went wide as I saw Yvet holding her, both wrapped in several layers of blankets and a mighty count of cloaks.
“It’s alright, Illy. I told you I’d watch after her so you could sleep. I think you still should.” He said, that boyish smile plastered on his face again.
Smiling, I crawled into the blankets with him and Kari. Resting my head on his shoulder, placing my hand over Mother, I prayed. The air growing warm as my healing magic took hold once more, I closed my tired eyes feeling Yvet rest his head on mine.
***
Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Waiting D.41, Ahmir
A full Galus Battalion was stationed on the dockside port, soldiers ushering townsfolk away from the harbor. All other vessels were boarded and secured while they pulled in, sailors throwing towing rope down to the waiting Military escort. Looking up to Captain Arash, a heavily decorated Officer saluted him. His medals pomp reflecting the light in a dazzling array of directions.
“Ahoy, Your Excellency. It has been many years since I last laid eyes on you.” Arash greeted the man.
“Salut, Al Arash. Many years it has been since I last saw you and that smuggling ship.” The same said in return, a tired polite look on his face.
“General Lafayette, you’ve grown old.” The Captain said, not bothering with the gangplank, merely hopping overboard to land in front of the General. Noting the several revolvers and a mostly hidden bandolier of extra ammunition belted to the man, Arash peered around. A small look of surprise as the obvious finally became apparent.
This wasn’t just some escort that had greeted them at the dock, this was the General’s personal Guard, as well as the Legion of the Griffon. The famed unit of the Fedro-Calphiti war who broke the walls of the Song of Bhal during the insurrection. “And so have you.” The General commented, shaking his hand.
The Delegation was being escorted down the dock as they spoke, Advisor Ahmir eyeing the pair as they conversed. Deciding it was best to speak with whoever was in command, he headed over to them. He had overheard the familiarity they spoke to each other, the man seemed familiar. The memory a distant image on the mirage of desert heat, he didn’t recognize the General until he spoke.
With a low bow, in the custom of the Calphiti, spreading his arms wide and returning them in a circular motion. “Advisor Ahmir, many old faces I see today. And one I knew was coming, though to see the Hero of Bhal in the flesh once more is a treat indeed.”
“General Lafayette!” Ahmir grinned wide, remembering the sheer amount of assistance the man had given the revolution in its fledgling states, brought a joy to his heart.
“How I wish you were here for more pleasant reasons. Though, to look a storm in the eyes is to know the course of the wind.” Lafayette shrugged, then clapping the man on the shoulder, he directed down the dock.
“Given the look of you and the Delegation, you’d think you stepped off the great market squares in the city. Why are you dressed so lightly for the winter?” The General asked.
I have no issue with it, it’s the others that is the issue. Unlike Arash and I, they have never been to Galus before, they know naught the folly of this endeavor yet.” Ahmir said, pulling a heavier cloak from a pack at his side.
“I see still you refuse to allow anyone to carry your things, friend.” Arash noted.
“Why bother his soldiers with something so trivial as my luggage when I am capable of carrying it myself?” He said as the trio watched the Delegation hand their belongings over to the covered carriage, shooing away soldiers from inspecting the silk cases and heavy mahogany travel wardrobes.
With a shake of his head, the General turned away from the scene back to the other two. “Arash, I hate to make this sound like what it is. But, I need you to leave Galus as soon as possible. Take your ship back to my own personal marina and restock there, you need to leave. While we appreciate the help you’ve given us for safely transporting the Advisor, much of the Citizenry of Port De Renard have built up quite a bit of animosity toward the Caliphate in the wake of the current political discourse.”
Turning to Ahmir, he continued. “The Casques have had their hands full with quelling the embers of a riot when they heard the Calphiti Delegation would be coming here instead of Glaion.” Waving a hand toward the Battalion stationed at every entrance, alleyway and doorway, “Hence the additional security.”
“I see, very well. I didn’t realize we would be this unwelcome.” Ahmir spoke with a certain sense of finality. The Captain had whistled, the crew still on deck began unmooring the ship for its departure.
Arash had nimbly clambered back onto the ship as they hauled the gangplank away from the dock. Turning back to the General and the Advisor, he cupped his hands around his mouth and spoke over the din of his steam engine. “May you find peace in the warm sands of Bhal.”
“Don’t you wish that on me, Arash!” Ahmir hollered back at him, smiling, though a strange feeling sat in his gut. Seeing the sad look on the Captain's face as the vessel pushed away from the dockside.
“We need to discuss your route, Ahmir.”
“I gave my full plan to your man back on Estile. Was there more to discuss?” Ahmir asked, just wanting to rest his tired eyes.
“Yes, to give you a quick synopsis of the events going on locally on the Peninsula. That route you have chosen does go through mostly safe territory, though there is an issue.” The General had begun walking toward the carriage, with a motion of his hand his coterie of Guards followed in rank behind him. Eyeing everything that moved with distrustful glares, a few of them aimed at Ahmir himself.
“We have information that the clan of goblins in the area are going through a certain amount of discord. They are typically inactive during the winter, though we have seen incongruous activity as of late.”
“What do you mean? I thought they weren’t enough to pay attention to, an annoyance and threat to the local populace, but not enough to warrant any real action taken against them. Or am I misinformed?” Ahmir asked, not meaning to sound harsh, but said it anyway.
“What I mean is this; we don’t know if the route you have chosen is actually safe any longer. There are too many variables at play for us to definitively say. I’ll tell you this, there seems to be two factions among the goblins at this point. One led by a young female who seems far more civilized than their current regime, and a brute of a goblin who wants to keep things the way they are. There is some friction there that we don’t know when it is going to ignite, and we’d rather not put you at risk.”
“You failed to mention why though. Why does Galus care about the goblins now? You’ve never cared about them until they cause significant economic damage, I just don’t…” Ahmir started, but shut his mouth before he could even finish as the blindingly obvious became apparent to him. “I see. You’re paying attention strictly because of us.”
The blank stare he received from Lafayette was all the answer he needed. “Thank you for your hospitality, I truly hope the last leg of our journey will be uneventful!” Ahmir piped up a smile, and extended his hand out to the man.
“No no no, It is I who should thank you, you have journeyed from across the world, to meet with mighty nations that are not always on the best of terms to avoid yet another conflict. I respect the amount of effort you and the Delegation have put in.” He responded with a dry smile of his own, shaking his hand.
Ahmir laughed, a deep chuckle from his gut. “I’ll try my best, though I don’t think much will come of this. I believe that this is simply a matter of discussion, I’m sure we will be able to avoid this unfortunate situation with a civil talk.”
A crow squawked at the pair standing on the pier before flying off in the direction of the storm brewing on the Southern Seas. Lafayette turned back to Ahmir, “I have a specially selected group of guards to bring you to Glaion. I'm going to ensure your safety on the roads, I want no chances. Consider it your diplomatic Right in our country.”
The wagon was heavily armored, thick steel plates covering nearly every surface as the boiler hummed in its neutral position. Though the clear glass windows were full of vibrant colors from the garments the Delegation wore. The bright Arcane light in the vehicle only added to the liveliness of it. Three soldiers hopped onto the top to sit inside a low pillbox built into it, their rifles poking through.
The engine hissed with a gout of steam as the wagon began to move. The Gatling gun mounted on top spun with its piped connection to the boiler, the ammunition rattling as it trundled along the cobblestone roadway. The crowd parting with the direction of the Guard walking in front of the thing, directing the citizens off to the side.
Their highly decorated uniforms overstating their authority over the Casques of the city. As they passed through the main portcullis of the gates, Ahmir noticed a small camp off to the side. A group of children being accosted by the City Watch.
“What’s going on over there?”
“A group of street urchins, they’ve been told to stop panhandling right next to the gates again, so it would seem.” The officer walking next to the window told Ahmir.
“Please stop the wagon.”
“Yes Sir.” With a whistle the vehicle came to a stop, rumbling then with a jerk stopped entirely. The Guard encircled the wagon, eyeing everyone who stopped to watch. Setting up a quick defensive position, the Officer that spoke to Ahmir opened the door and helped him down off the high step.
Walking over to the group of City watch and the children, the Officer barked an order and the Casques backed off with an annoyed glare at the Advisor. The kids huddled together in a tight group, not knowing what was going on. Only that a richly dressed foreigner and a Galician officer had just just called off their harassment.
“What are you doing out here?” Ahmir said softly, a kind smile on his face.
Presumably the oldest of them spoke up, his face dirty, his hands and arms scrapped up. “Nothing, we just. We don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Where are your parents?”
“Dead, they died a long time ago. We found each other out here and we try to look out for each other. Those Pigs won’t leave us alone, and they won’t let us back in the city. They keep saying they won’t let thieves back in, but we haven't stolen anything!” The boy said, his face going red with anger.
Looking back over to the Wagon, the Guard patrolling the now stationary vehicle. Reaching into a bag slung over his shoulder, he pulled a handful of gold coins out and handed it to the kids. “Officer, could you please tell me your name again?”
With a raised brow, eyeing the wide eyed kids who likely have never seen that much money in their lives, responded. “Officer Reginald, First Class of General Lafayette’s royal Navy.”
“Well, Officer Reginald. Could you please have one of your Guard lead these kinds to a comfortable inn, and get them a warm room. Please see to it that they get enough provisions for a month.”
The youngest of them stepped forward and hugged Ahmir tightly, the older boy spoke again, a little lost for words. “Thank you mister. I”
“Think nothing of it, I need no thanks. I just hate seeing children suffer like this.”
With another whistle, one of the Guard ran over, Reginald relayed the instructions to him and sent him off with the kids and their meager belongings. Ahmir walked back to the wagon signaling to the Officer again to continue on.
“Why bother with the trivial issues of this country?” One of his Delegation said to him.
“I’d give them a home if I were able. This is the best I could do given the situation. I’d have thought Galus would be more kind to their most vulnerable.”
“That doesn’t answer the question Ahmir.”
“Simple, I can’t stand by and do nothing.”
***
Year of Wrath 1231, Season of Waiting D.41, Gjorn
I felt as if my bones were groaning in protest, my joints popping like a soggy pine log in the fire. That pinching in my back had returned, resting my back against the tent poles I sat and waited for Halgier to return back to his bunk. “Why is it every time I go back there, I feel thirty years older than I am?” I asked to the open air, the dark corners illuminated by the lanterns light from the encampment. I watched in idleness, a spider crawling its way along the top of the canopy.
I thought back to what Alnya had told me, I had asked many seasons ago. The time was similar to the first time I met her, tearing her way through my mind and soul trying to understand more. I had told her to stop, despite her being a goddess, she did. Smiling, she waited until I was ready again. The thought has been something subconscious, not words spoken to it, she answered my question.
“It’s because you are one of the Shadow Touched. It’s because you are not even the same thing I had made, your very being here fights and endeavors to infect everything. The weave of your self, your being, your concept is antithetical here. As we would be in the Shattered Lands.” While her voice was monotone, it had no malice, no blame. As if she were perfectly understanding that we were the problem.
I knew it was no small effort for her to keep me there, powerful divine intent keeping my essence from seeping into The Elsewhere. “I know you feel bad about it, but don’t. I shouldn’t have told you, it is not your fault but mine and my siblings fault.”
I grunted my reply, not willing to commit more energy than that while she plucked at the strings of my soul. She stopped without me asking, tired eyes opened to see her hands in her lap. “I just want to stay in your mind a little longer…”
My reverie was broken as I heard boots crunch just outside the tent, followed closely by one of the pole lanterns that served both as the streetlights and personal illumination in the Dwarven mercenary camps. With a flip the tent opened for a gust of wind as Halgier saw me sitting in the middle of the quarters.
“Just sitting here alone in the dark?” Halgier said, without much reaction at all. Hanging the pole lantern from the hook atop the thing from one of the supporting poles, he walked around to his desk and began rummaging through paperwork.
“What has happened to the Rhjoic while I was away?” I asked, I knew how my voice sounded.
Handing me a strong glass of bright amber liquor, “Aye, has that mistress of yours finally brought you to your knees?”
“She is no mistress.”
“A rose by any other name, Tch. We took a contract on behalf of the Galcian military.”
Drink still to my lips, I twitched at that. “Did we now.” It wasn’t a question. I didn’t feel like arguing, I should have thought Halgier would try something like this. Always in pursuit of funds for the city. “What did we agree to?”
“We will be training their officers as well as acting as a Cavalry Vanguard should they need additional support in the next few months.”
My eyes closed on their own, “I hope they are paying us well this time.”
I didn’t hear him tell me to get some sleep before my mind was wandering off to my most recent orders from the Queen. We stood on the bright sunlit balcony that sat at the crown of the Cathedral. Odeza sat atop one of the many spires that ringed the Goddesses home. She happily chirped out all the latest news she had garnered.
Alnya patiently smiled up at the fairy, letting her speak till the sun sank low in the horizon. It wasn’t until the cool night air blew past the balcony before Odeza apologized for using up so much of the Queen’s time. “Think nothing of it, sweet child. It still brings joy to my heart to see my Sister’s children happy.”
The God’s Eye floated down to hug the queen. “Thank you for being patient with me.”
“Gjorn, Scout Realm, I need to confirm again. You two are absolutely sure? This is a risk that we have been waiting for, but I want to know before we set the gears in motion.”
“Yes, Mother.” Odeza answered before me, “What I saw during her dreaming, was witnessed by the other God’s Eye’s as well. They can all vouch for it. We witnessed her interact with the fallen Quartet. Their shades left in the world, what we weren’t expecting was to see the Great Mother interact with her in a much more coherent manner. Warmth and the Father were far less sociable.”
“But why, how?” Alnya crossed her arms, eyes still closed.
I spoke this time, before Odeza could interrupt me. “I believe this; after having only spoken to her on a few occasions. I believe she shares the same talent composition as the Brownies. The Great Mother lost to the void, heard her voice and recognized amongst the distorted mockeries of the regular goblins.”
“So you think she is happenstance.” The Queen said with a questioning palm. “That my sister would just happen to find this girl, a perfect vector of recovery. A shining light in the endless night?”
“You always told us that the Quartet refused to create destiny. Fate holds no weight, you never wanted a predetermined path for anything.” Odeza said, hand on her hip in an annoyed look at the Goddess. “So why ask us if it’s coincidence, when you never made fate?”
“I don’t know what the Shadows have done with our world. That was the whole point of the watchers. My eyes in the world.” Alnya said flatly.
I blurted out my own objection. “But, those Shadows can’t create.”
She opened one of her eyes just the barest slit to look down at me. The divine fire licking its way out to continue in infinity. “Strange then that they can change to the point of making something new. Isn’t it Dwarf?”
I promptly shut my mouth, understanding what she meant. Only to respond to her original question. “We are certain The Great Mother has chosen her champion.”
