| Salaam, and welcome to my long-awaited sequel story! This one begins about a year after the epilogue of Sun Garden. This is why it has been placed in Stylized; I wanted to avoid setting any canon that writers in MSGC might feel obligated to follow. CoT also makes one major break from the rules of MSGC -- I'm sure that you'll figure out which one pretty quickly. That said, it is far from my intent that this story exist in a vacuum. I fully intend to reference other stories as opportunities arise, I'll just be doing so from the perspective of characters who remember those stories as events from the past. And so, without further ado, I present to you City of Thorns. Back to the show! PROLOGUE: KEEN LOGIC AND A DEEP SENSE OF HUMOUR KATANA AND AMETHYST Amethyst: Thank you all for coming today. We gather to celebrate our father Antonio Miguel Warren, a truly great man. Katana: Or, as he would say, an ordinary man who lived an extraordinary life. Amethyst: You know my father as the Darkstar, a great entertainer, but only those closest to him know of his true calling as a scholar and teacher. Katana: He certainly taught us on many occasions. Of all the lessons he taught us, the one that my yearmate and I remember most is the Lesson of the Horse. *** KATANA It was the hottest part of the day when the caravan neared Gray Gardens. The Sun tried its best to pummel us into submission, but its efforts were in vain. Despite what the nomads believe we Gray Gardeners are no pampered city folk. My sister and I smiled at each other as the caravaneers grumbled about the heat. One of the Bloodscale soldiers, a battle-scarred sobeket, brought her horse up alongside mine. “Lady Katana, Lady Amethyst,” she said, “The heat of the day is upon us. Would you care to rest and set up a shade tent for an hour or two?” “I think that will be unnecessary,” said Amethyst from my other side. She caught my eye and winked. “We are less than two hours away from our destination. I will not presume to speak for Lady Katana, but I can take a little heat if it gets us home faster.” “My sister speaks truly,” I replied, “Besides, our sire survived the Curse of a Thousand Dawns. It takes more than one noon to wilt these desert flowers.” “As you wish,” said the soldier through gritted teeth. My yearmate and I grinned at her discomfiture – not charitable, but we were young and foolish yet – but we were not without mercy. “Still, it would be wise to spare the horses,” I said, “Take the caravan to half speed. It will add an hour to our travel time, but mother is forever reminding me of the value of patience.” “Yes, milady,” the Lizardman said with visible relief. She turned her mount to relay the order to the rest of the caravan while Amethyst and I reined in our own horses. We spent the rest of the trip at that leisurely pace. Amy and I passed the time chatting about home, wondering how much our little sisters had grown in the year we had been gone, and speculating about which patrols had come back with husbands. The day was noticeably cooler when we neared the farms of Gray Gardens. The field hands didn’t look up from their work as we approached, but three figures on horseback waved. “That is father on that chestnut mare,” I said, “A blind man riding a horse does not strike me as the best of ideas.” “And mother and Mama Beset are sharing a black stallion,” said Amy, “No, that is not symbolic at all.” We rode up opposite our parents. Mother and Mama Aneksi tried to look serious, but father made no effort to hide his glee. “Hello, mother… mama… father,” I said. Amethyst bowed. Her expression matched the solemnity of our mothers’, but I could hear her purring. “Katana, Amethyst,” said my mother with a nod, “I am pleased that you are well.” “I, too am happy to see you both,” said Mama Aneksi, “It seems that your time with Clan Bloodscale has agreed with you.” “This foster year was an excellent idea,” said Amy, “I do believe that our younger sisters will enjoy it.” “I am glad that it went well, then,” my mother said, “It is important that we keep our ties with the Bloodscales stro…” “Enough formality, already,” father roared, “You cubs want to give your old man a hug? You have to catch him first!” He wheeled his horse around and gave it the spurs, and the surprised animal took off at full gallop. Despite the speed of my and Amethyst’s reflexes he got a good six lengths away before we started giving chase. Amethyst shrieked, “Father, stop! You cannot see!” “Good,” he bellowed over his shoulder, “If I could, I’d probably be terrified!” He laughed like a madman as the horse slalomed between grain-laden wagons. I could see that he was making no effort to guide the animal – which was good, as his guidance would have been worse than useless. Instead he focused all of his efforts on keeping his seat… but his full effort wouldn’t be enough if the horse had to stop suddenly or jump. We had to stop the horse, and soon. Amy spurred her horse to overtake father’s, but the animal’s eyes widened as the shifting winds carried her carnivore’s scent to its nostrils. The horse turned out of reach and pulled away as panic lent it speed. Fortunately for us the horse’s attempt to evade my sister brought it closer to me. I reached for the reins, but they remained tantalizingly out of my grasp. I leaned out of my saddle in a way that my riding instructor had told me never to do – which of course meant to do it only if I really needed to. My first grab missed, as did my second. On the third try I missed the reins again, but chance granted me a fingerhold on the bridle. I pulled the animal’s head to me and yelled in its ear. “Whoa, you stupid nag!” The horse took this to mean, “struggle to escape” and veered the other way… and in so doing, she pulled me from my saddle. Thank the Ancients that my mother raised no children who were slow on the uptake! I did not wait to be pulled to the ground. I jumped. I dug my feet in and exerted my full mamono strength. One hard yank brought the horse’s ear level with my mouth. “I… said… STOP,” I snarled. The horse finally got the message and ceased its headlong flight. I allowed myself a brief moment to rest while Amethyst helped father down. The sound of hoofbeats at an annoyingly sedate pace announced the arrival of the sharif and the priestess. “Well handled, daughters,” said my mother, “That was most impressive.” “And you did it without killing the horse,” said Mama Aneksi. “Or father,” Amethyst said with a giggle. “I will take care of that later,” mother said under her breath. I smiled at that. The stage whisper was pitched for yinepet and harakhtet hearing, but the blind man with his well-trained ears probably heard it just fine. His laughter seemed to indicate so, at any rate. “That was fun,” he said, “Again, again!” “I think you have had enough excitement for one day, my husband,” said the sharif with just a hint of frost in her voice. “Okay, okay,” he replied, “But gimme a break. I haven’t gotten to mess with them for a whole year. And you know how I like to play with my cubs.” “Cubs no more,” said the priestess, “They are grown now, beloved. Fostered and trained, as per our agreement.” I perceived that I would get no better opening than this, so I decided to exercise the boldness to which I had been groomed. “Speaking of agreements, father, did you not promise to declare us the official heirs on the day of our return?” “Did I, now,” he teased. “Yes… now that you mention it, I might have said something to that effect. But if I was going to make such an announcement, there’s no way I’d do it on an empty stomach. Come on, we’ve got a celebratory meal prepared for you.” Amethyst’s ears perked up. “Oo, a party? For us?” “I wouldn’t call it a party,” said father, “More like an intimate dinner with the family.” He grinned his you-didn’t-think-that-was-all-did-you grin and added, “And your school friends… and the tower guard… and the whole freakin’ town.” Amy squealed in delight and pulled father into a bone-wrenching hug. I stiffened as I watched this display of affection, but then I felt my mother’s hand on my shoulder. “Go ahead, Tana,” she whispered, “No one will think less of you if you hug your father in public.” “You never hug him in public,” I whispered back. “I make up for it with what I do with him in private,” she responded, “Go ahead, he has missed you.” While I argued with myself over whether or not warrior women could be openly affectionate my father, bless him, decided the matter for me. He extended his hand in my direction and asked, “How come I’ve only got one daughter over here?” I stepped into his arms and let myself be folded into a three-way embrace. Once there I wondered why I had ever held back. I nuzzled my father’s face and let my cares dissolve in the man-smell of him. “I missed you, my dear ones,” he crooned. “We missed you too, Daddy,” said Amy. I didn’t worry about her speaking for me. I was too busy dripping tears of joy onto my father’s shoulder. Then I felt the thump as Amy pounded on his chest. “But what were you thinking? You could have been badly hurt pulling that stunt!” He chuckled. “Sometimes you have to trust the horse.” Father kissed my cheek and then Amy’s, and then turned the three of us toward the tower and started walking. “As much as your mothers and I would like to keep you to ourselves for a while, your sisters are dying to see you. We’d better get back before they explode.” Ancestors, it is good to be home, I thought. I took a deep breath and let the sounds and smells of Gray Gardens wash over me. After a year away I was more than ready to spend the rest of my life in this place. *** KATANA AND AMETHYST Amethyst: It was hours later when we realized the rest of the lesson. For neither Mama Beset, who was always fanatically protective of my father, nor my mother, who was worse, made any move to save him. Katana: Which means that father had planned that little dash and told them what he intended. Amethyst: And that, friends, is the Lesson of the Horse. Sometimes you trust the horse because you have no choice… but trust is easier when you have carefully selected the horse, cinched up your own saddle, and can choose when the horse is going to run. Katana: As they say where father came from, the secret to being a successful gambler is leaving nothing to chance. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| Cool, nice to see you writing again. I'm curious what you do with the stylized freedom. Also, I should remind everyone that even with the story being stylized it is still possible to do cameos, so long as the interaction does not break the rules of the more restrictive story. That being said... I hope we can still do what we had planned ;) |
| I don't have to know what I'm looking for. I just have to know when I find it. |
| Woot a new story by Tyger :-) And what a lesson we got... though, given that horses are both smarter than cars and most humans, I was fully confident in the horse's ability not to kill him/herself and the rider :-P That gambler remark though that was a new one for me :D And we immediately got a honorary MG introduced here? If I'm not mistaken a sobek is part crocodile part human, right? |
MetallumOperatur said: And we immediately got a honorary MG introduced here? If I'm not mistaken a sobek is part crocodile part human, right? Nope. Sobeket is Old Tongue for lizardman. I will also occasionally use the Old Tongue terms for other MGs -- harakhtet = werecat family, especially sphinx; yinepet = werewolf family, especially anubis; manjet = beetle family, especially khepri; nagaina = lamia family. I will be introducing at least two new terms as well, but I'll let their appearances in the story be the first looks at them. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| CHAPTER 1: IMPUTATIONS OF EVIL AMETHYST Katana and I stood in the middle of a loving knot of family members while the assembled party guests raised their voices in song – most with more enthusiasm than skill. “Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…” My trained ear easily picked out the harmonies sung by my father and my sister Topaz, and of course the tone-deaf warble from our perpetually tipsy doctor. My yearmate, ancestors bless her, picked up on something else. “But… it is not either of our birthdays!” “Of course not,” I whispered, “We were away during our birthdays.” “…happy birthday, Tana and Amy, happy birthday to yoooooooou!” The crowd – for such it was, with the entire population of Gray Gardens crammed into the tower – broke out in raucous cheering. My aunts Nefret and Bahiti even blew a fanfare on their trumpets. “Do you not think that this is a bit much, my Captain?” said Mama Beset. “Nonsense,” Father replied, “Nothing’s too good for my girls.” “I hope that you remember saying that when it is time to pay for my wedding, Daddy,” I cooed. Mother giggled, and Mama Beset smirked. “Like I said, nothing’s too good for my girls… but I’m glad that I raised sensible girls who know better than to break the bank.” “And besides,” Topaz interjected, “It is not as if it would be just your wedding.” Ah, Pazi. Even in the desert, I can count on you to rain on my parade. “That is not certain, Topaz,” Mama Beset scolded, “While it is true that the current Captain of Gray Gardens is husband to both the sharif and the priestess, we have not yet decided if we will keep that as a tradition.” “I’m still not a fan of this hereditary aristocracy thing,” Father grumbled. “And yet here you are, a hereditary aristocrat,” Mother teased. “Hey! Nobody died and made me Captain. I earned my title.” An unfamiliar voice sounded from behind us. “An excellent point, Darkstar. A quest in which your daughters prove their worthiness to lead Gray Gardens would be just the thing.” The speaker, an elegantly dressed Anubis with auburn hair and golden eyes, stepped up before the family. “Beset, daughter of Brian, and Aneksi, daughter of Amunet, I am Huda, daughter of Khadija. I greet you in accordance with the Way.” “Greetings to you, Huda, daughter of Khadija,” the sharif intoned. Her tone was polite, but her posture bespoke wariness. “Welcome to Gray Gardens. What can we do for you?” Mother’s eyes narrowed. “And what is this quest on which you expect us to send our children?” Huda laughed. “Ah, motherly instinct. Have no fear, I mean no harm to your firstborns. But perhaps we should discuss this after the celebration is concluded? I admit that I have been looking forward to experiencing Gray Gardens’ fabled hospitality.” Mama nodded. “Very well, then.” She gestured to one of the servers and said, “Xanthe, please see our guest to a seat and inform the chef that we have one more for dinner.” She then turned to Huda and added, “After which, we will discuss – in detail – who you are and what authority you have to send our children on mysterious errands.” Huda bowed and followed the server to the guest tables. When Huda was safely out of earshot Father asked, “Am I the only one who thinks she seems a little shady?” “I would not trust her as far as you could throw her, Father,” said Katana. “But we’re going to listen to her pitch anyway, aren’t we?” Jade inquired. “If by ‘we’ you mean your father, your mama, and I, yes,” said the priestess, “That is the best way to find out what she is up to… but it is no matter for cubs.” “It is a matter than concerns Katana and me,” I declared, “So we should be there.” “Kid’s got a point,” said Father. “Very well,” said the sharif, “Katana and Amethyst shall join us. The rest of you pass the word to the guards that Huda’s retainers are to go nowhere in town unsupervised. For now we celebrate… but we will not be careless while we do.” My younger sisters nodded and moved to follow instructions. Father turned toward Katana and me. “Congratulations, you two. It’s your first courtly intrigue.” “Surely these things are not as annoying as you say,” said Katana. “After a few of these, you’ll be nostalgic for your first assassination attempt,” Father replied. “Now come on. Dinner first, then meeting.” Tana and I each took one of our father’s hands and proceeded with him to the head table. *** Katana and I hurried to beat Huda and her bodyguards to the audience room as soon as the party broke up. This was no small task in light of the sheer number of well-wishers, and the little sisters who had not seen us in a while did not help. We barely managed to reach the family entrance to the meeting chamber as Father was being led to his chair at mama’s left hand. Mother sat at her right. All three had changed into full audience regalia, probably right here in the chamber – I sensed Zahra’s hand in that. The honeybee handed formal cloaks to my yearmate and me and retreated behind the sharif’s throne. I straightened my cloak and gave a last tweak to Katana’s just as the main door opened to admit our guest. I watched Huda carefully as she approached. Her loose-limbed stride spoke of confidence and a sense of security – she definitely wasn’t nervous about being here. Yet her movements were as tightly controlled as one would expect of a warrior, and the glint in her eye suggested copious humor leavened with a measure of cruelty. This woman was sure that she could take the sharif in single combat. She did not look arrogant or stupid enough to think that she could take both the sharif and the priestess, but that was no doubt what the hulking mummies guarding her flanks were for. Well, one of them, anyway. The other was surely there to cover my sister and me. “Good evening, sharif,” Huda said, “This is where I would normally give a long-winded speech of greetings and false praise peppered with subtle bragging and veiled threats, but do you mind if I skip that and get right to business?” “As long as you begin by telling us who sent you, I do not mind at all,” said Mama Beset. This drew a laugh from Huda – a rather pleasant one, judging from the subtle shift in my father’s scent. “And what makes you think that I was sent, O sharif? I could well be here on my own authority.” “Not likely, O messenger,” the sharif replied, “I am the sharif of Gray Gardens. I have a militia over a hundred strong at my disposal, and we are dug into one of the best fortifications on the island. No one who did not outrank me would dare to come here with an assignment for our children without an army to back her up, and you brought none.” She leaned forward and added, “And no one who did outrank me, and had an army at her disposal, would have come here herself without it. So, I know that you were sent. I remain curious as to who sent you.” Huda nodded as if in approval. “Very good. The reports of your sagacity were refreshingly accurate.” She bowed at the waist, and the mummies mirrored her. “I am here on behalf of my liege Yabhoudi, shaykh of this province and patron of the arts magical. My lady sends her greetings and this token.” The yinepet pulled a scroll from her sleeve and held it out. Zahra flitted forward, took the scroll, and handed it to Mama Beset before returning to her place. The sharif opened the scroll. As she read my father got an odd look on his face. “Wait a minute. Yabhoudi… shaykh… Shaykh Yabhoudi? SHAYKH YABHOUDI?!?” His composure dissolved in gales of laughter, much to the obvious annoyance of Huda and Mama Beset. “Why do outlanders always do that?” Huda asked. “I cannot say, my honored guest,” the sharif replied, “But please forgive my husband. I fear that he had a bit of a misadventure earlier today.” She glared and added, “We may yet find that he has taken a bump on the head.” Father got the message and got his merriment under control. He couldn’t quite wipe the smile from his face, though. As for me, I am glad that all eyes were on him. That way no one noticed the smile on my face. Those that think me irreverent, blame my father for teaching me enough English to know what was so funny. Mama Beset rolled up the scroll and set it on the arm of her chair. “This seems in order, and as a loyal officer of the province I will of course heed my shaykh’s call. Tell me, sister Tomb Guardian, what does our liege require?” Huda nodded. “I have mentioned that the shaykh is a patron of the magical arts. You are, of course, familiar with the Oracle of Lost Ruins?” “We are,” said Father, “This is about one of her prophecies?” The messenger acknowledged Father with a nod – rather coolly, I noted. “Indeed. What do you know about Dendra?” Mother perked up. “The First Oasis? It is among the oldest of legends, the city whose exiles went on to found the Old Dynasty.” She got a faraway look on her face. “The scrolls speak of groves of trees as thick as jungle, some of types that exist on the island no more. Many wonders had Dendra before the city fell into wickedness and the desert swallowed it down.” “Quite so,” said Huda, “And now the oracle says that the desert is about to spit Dendra back up. The shaykh wishes to send a small team of scouts to observe the situation and report.” Mama Beset stroked her chin. “I see. And why, precisely, does this require our firstborn?” “Because the oracle has said that they are destined to succeed where others would fail,” Huda replied. “The oracle’s prophecies are rarely so clear… but we have never known them to be wrong.” Katana chose this moment to step forward. “Moth… my sharif, I am willing to perform this task for our shaykh. As Father has said, we have not earned our place as the heirs to Gray Gardens. I, for one, would welcome the opportunity to do so.” “As would I,” I added. There was no way that I would allow my yearmate to proceed into danger – or to glory – without me! “It is settled, then,” said Huda, “Assemble your team… no more than ten including yourselves… and meet with me in the morning. I will brief you and provide a map to your destination. You must leave as soon as possible.” She turned to Mama Beset and said, “I trust that the sharif can arrange for horses or other transportation?” “Actually, I’ve got an idea for that,” Father announced, “Zahra, send Liam and Mami to my office when we adjourn here, please. I have a message that needs delivering.” Huda bowed and backed out of the room with her bodyguards in tow. The sharif stood and went out the back way followed by the captain and the priestess. Katana and I hung back, and I grasped her hand. “So… we have a quest,” I said. She smiled. “Yes… it seems that we do.” |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| There is one thing that actually puzzles me. Why is "Captain" hereditary noble title? While in the history all officers were automatically nobles, not all nobles were officers and received the military title associated with that. Considering the position, noble title would be something like Duke, Viscount or similar (or rather any Arabic variant, considering the setting), but not Captain. |
| Signature removed. It was too good for this cruel world. |
beast_regards said: Why is "Captain" hereditary noble title? It's certainly not a traditional title, but it's what Tony is called. Thus it is assumed -- mainly by Beset and Aneksi, who are quite comfortable with hereditary aristocracy -- that the title will be traditional for Tony's successors. It remains to be seen whether or not the Captain will be the husband of both the sharif and the priestess; it's really only required that he be married to the sharif (which, coincidentally enough, is a roughly equivalent title for a civilian authority). |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
echoes_guy said: I AM curious if all the children will go through similar trials. Not all, no. I have a major story planned that will star Falcata and Beryl, and another starring Jade (with major roles for Topaz, Misericordia, and Ruby). There is also a vignette planned for Shotel. And of course, Sapphire is the female lead in MoniStar's current story. I'm not sure yet what to do with Talwar or Balisong beyond supporting roles in other stories. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| I am also curious of something and that is, question of when. There is a time difference between the first and the last story at least thirty or so years. Clarux_Nox and Monistar already met Tony's daughters as adult, which suggest that your first story is taking place several years in past. However, there must be some stories that took place in the same time as your first story, aren't there not? Yet, I don't recall any other stories which experienced time shift as long as fifteen or more years. How is synchronization carried out? Which events happened during Tony's rule? |
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Malise said: How is synchronization carried out? There isn't one and you already know this. |
| Signature removed. It was too good for this cruel world. |
tygertyger said: Nope. Sobeket is Old Tongue for lizardman. I will also occasionally use the Old Tongue terms for other MGs -- harakhtet = werecat family, especially sphinx; yinepet = werewolf family, especially anubis; manjet = beetle family, especially khepri; nagaina = lamia family. I will be introducing at least two new terms as well, but I'll let their appearances in the story be the first looks at them. Ah I was under the impression you based those terms on ancient Egyptian deities. You designed the Old Tongue yourself then, or is it based on something else? Also great new chapter. Somehow I got the feeling Yabhoudi's dad was also an Outlander, or else it's really (un?)fortunate naming :-P |
MetallumOperatur said: Ah I was under the impression you based those terms on ancient Egyptian deities. I did. "Harakhtet" is from Harakhte (Greek: Harmakhis), which is the proper name of the Great Sphinx of Giza. "Yinepet" is from Yinepu, which is a variant of Anpu (Greek: Anubis). "Sobeket" is from Sobek, the crocodile-headed god of the Nile. "Manjet" is from manjet-boat, the vehicle which bore Ra across the sky -- a job that is also ascribed to the scarab god Khepri in some versions of the lore. "Nagaina" is the oddball; it is the Hindi term for a female naga. Also great new chapter. Somehow I got the feeling Yabhoudi's dad was also an Outlander, or else it's really (un?)fortunate naming :-P I suspect the latter.* *No, I don't know every detail of my own setting. Some of that is deliberate; I have to leave room for future creativity. And some of it is from following intuitive leaps without knowing in advance where they'll lead me. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
Malise said: I am also curious of something and that is, question of when. There is a time difference between the first and the last story at least thirty or so years.[snip] How is synchronization carried out? Which events happened during Tony's rule? That's a puzzler, for sure. There are a couple of fixed points in time, however, and those provide some stability. 1) The epilogue of Sun Garden I takes place 16 years after Aneksi and Beset announce that they're pregnant. This fixes the age of Katana and Amethyst at 15 at the end of that story. Also, Tony specifies that Misericordia is 11 at that time. 2) Sapphire's age at the start of MoniStar's current story is stated as 17. Since she and Cordy are the fifth pair, that puts her age at four years younger than Tana and Amy. That makes them 21 as of the start of that story. 3) The prologue of CoT states that Tana and Amy have been away from home for a year. Future events in story will state their age when they left. So, not quite a time difference of 30 years, but a significant chunk of time. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
tygertyger said: The epilogue of Sun Garden I takes place 16 years after Aneksi and Beset announce that they're pregnant. This fixes the age of Katana and Amethyst at 15 at the end of that story. Also, Tony specifies that Misericordia is 11 at that time. I swear there has been a story that jumped the said 30 years, even. Or wasn't there? Embarrassing as it is, I don't know which story it was, so I can't so anything else that humbly apologize for my mistake. Are there stories which take place in same time as your first one then? |
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Malise said: I swear there has been a story that jumped the said 30 years, even. Or wasn't there? Embarrassing as it is, I don't know which story it was, so I can't so anything else that humbly apologize for my mistake. Are there stories which take place in same time as your first one then? Well perhaps you were thinking of Mdude's stories. His first and second story are 30 years apart. |
Malise said: Are there stories which take place in same time as your first one then? Several, in fact. Pantsman's story: some of the characters from that story (the minotaurus doctor, her lamia friend, and the little fox girl) are the first refugees to arrive at Gray Gardens. Dcw's story: Sebastian, the father of our favorite dhampir, attends Darkstar's concert while on the errand that takes him to Charisse. Yudahito's story: this is the guy who knocked Tony and Sekhet down while running from security. Emeraldtryst's first story: the War of the Sun Gods was happening while this story was happening, so there is some overlap. Beast Regards' story: see above. Clarus Nox's story: this is a special case. The crossover between these stories occurs about a year after the climax of Sun Garden I. However, the crossover of this story and dcw's may have caused a continuity glitch. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| CHAPTER 2: NOT MEANT THAT WE SHOULD VOYAGE FAR KATANA Amethyst and I both wore calm expressions as we left the audience chamber. I was quite proud of us for that, for I knew that she was as excited as I at the prospect of this trip. “So,” she said, “It seems we have a quest.” I could not hold back a smile, but I kept it small. “Yes… it seems that we do.” I shrugged out of my cloak – a pretty thing, but too heavy for the heat of our home – and added, “The first thing we must do is decide on the chain of command.” “Oh, that is easy,” my yearmate supplied, “You are the heir to the sharif, and this has been explained to us as a military matter. You should command this mission.” That got a bigger smile from me. “What, you do not think that the discovery of the First Oasis is clearly a lore issue, and therefore a matter for a priestess?” “Lady Huda is sending us on a scouting mission,” Amy said, “Which means that she and the shaykh are expecting trouble. Reconnaissance is a military matter, and thus the province of the sharif.” “As Father would say, ‘eminently logical,’” I replied. “So, who should we take with us?” “No one, yet,” said a cheerful voice from down the hall, “You are not leaving without your presents!” Beryl and Falcata trotted up to us with the rest of the sisters in tow. “We saved up our allowances for months to get you these.” The thirdborns extended silk-wrapped packages to us. I accepted my gift – which was quite a bit larger than Amy’s – with a bit of confusion. “But we do not get allowance. Father says we should work for our money.” “Yes, well…” said Talwar, “Our show work is so easy or so fun that what we get paid for it might as well be an allowance.” She prodded the package and added, “Go ahead, open it.” I unwound the cloth – which was a gold color that would look sensational against my skin – and found an exquisite sword. The blade was slightly curved with a squarish point, and the dark metal had a curious swirly pattern to it. The black leather of the handle matched my hair “This is beautiful,” I said, “Is this metal what Father calls Damascus steel?” “Indeed,” said Topaz, “We knew that you would want a practical gift, but we all agreed that it should also be attractive.” My yearmate grinned. “I cannot help but notice that the sword is a katana.” She liberated her own package from a length of purple cloth that matched her eyes and found an ornate dagger of the same metal. “Oo, that is a nice knife.” “And I cannot help but notice that the rather large jewel in the pommel is an amethyst,” I said. I turned to our younger sisters. “Thank you all for these wonderful gifts.” I gave them my best predator’s smile. “I would say that I hope we never have to use them, but I would be lying.” “So speaks the warrior,” said Amy, “I will say that I hope we never have to use them. From a priestess that is the truth!” We all got a laugh out of that. “So, are you going to tell us what happened in the meeting?” Jade asked. I shrugged. “Nothing much, really. That Huda woman works for the shaykh of the province, and the shaykh has a scouting mission that the oracle says only Amy and I can accomplish. Frankly, I think the shaykh just does not want to risk any of her own people.” Shotel frowned. “I am not so sure. The oracle is never wrong, and bad things happen to people who misrepresent her prophecies. If Lady Huda told you that the oracle said only you two could perform this task, rest assured that only you two can succeed.” Jade rolled her eyes. “Says the magic nerd.” She elbowed her yearmate in the ribs, and the normally unsmiling Shotel smirked and elbowed her back. I could see my younger siblings winding up to full-on pillow fight mode, but Amy and I did not have time for that. “That is enough, you two,” I commanded, “Amethyst and I must get a mission roster together, and I suspect that Father would like for all of you to help with clean-up. We should get to work.” “We hear and obey, O sharif,” said Talwar. The remark was sarcastic, but her attitude was all affection. “Come on, troublemakers. We must leave the heirs apparent to their work.” My little sisters filed out two-by-two on the way to their assigned tasks. I turned back to Amethyst and said, “Now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” Amy replied in mock seriousness, “You, O sharif, were about to tell me what a great idea I had when I suggested Daphne for the military part of this mission. We will also need a medic, and I have the perfect person in mind…” Amy proceeded to name several excellent candidates for the mission, and I had only a few minor tweaks to her list. If, as Mother said, the secret to being a good leader was choosing good advisors, having Amethyst at my side was going to make me a great sharif. *** Mid-morning found my yearmate and me back in the audience chamber with our parents, Lady Huda, and most of our team. I had to admire Huda’s efficiency; she kept the briefing short and information dense. “…And the target area is here, about three days’ ride south-by-southeast of the Lake of Glass near the Amarante border.” Huda rolled up the map and handed it to me. “We have no idea what Dendra’s exact location is; you might well have to cross into Amarante. If so, tread lightly. We have no diplomatic sanction for cross-realm operations.” “Understood,” I replied. “Now I would like to review your personnel assignments,” said Huda, “I understand that the sharif has approved your selections, and I will not presume that I can improve on them; you know your people, I do not. I merely want enough information to take a report back to the shaykh.” “Of course.” I gestured for the team to stand. “The priestess-candidate and I selected five additional team members. Daphne, daughter of Selene,” a blond blue-eyed Lizardman stepped forward, “Is an experienced warrior and a former member of the Sandwalker Company.” “The company that evacuated five-hundred civilians from Lost Ruins during the civil war? That was an impressive feat,” said Huda. “Not as impressive as we would’ve liked, ma’am,” said Daphne, “When we started, there were six-hundred.” “Still more than anyone else did,” I injected. I waved her back and beckoned the next member, a golem with light brown hair and deep black eyes. “Chavaleh Clayborn has no military experience beyond Gray Gardens’ patrol schedule, but she has the benefits of the immense strength and limitless stamina of her kind.” “And having a party member who requires neither food nor water reduces the amount of supplies that we must carry,” Amethyst added. I nodded and waved the next member forward. She was a swarthy black harpy, and someone who focused on her quiet demeanor might easily miss the razor sharpness of her claws. “Inez daughter of Rosalinda has been performing scout and messenger duties since before she arrived here.” “Her nest was affiliated with the Sandwalkers,” Amy offered. The fourth member, an ignis with red-blond hair and glowing yellow eyes, floated forward on a pillar of heat haze before I prompted her. “Ana daughter of Revati is a skilled pyromancer and part of our scholar-warrior program. We are bringing her along for magical support.” The last member also didn’t wait to be beckoned, nor did she wait to be introduced. “Jameelah daughter of Qirat, ma’am,” said the olive-skinned raven-haired khepri, “One of the doctor’s apprentices. I am ready to serve, though I hope that I am not needed.” “Ancients grant your wish,” said Huda. She looked around. “This is only seven. Sharif Beset, you told me over breakfast that there would be nine. Where are the other two?” “They should arrive this evening,” Mother answered, “That is, if my husband’s plan works.” “It’ll work,” said Father, “Mami’s flighty, but she knows her stuff.” Huda narrowed her eyes. “I hope for your sake that all is as you say, Captain,” she said, “I have mentioned that time is of the essence.” “Relax, milady,” said Father, “They’ll be here as advertised. The team will be ready to go at first light tomorrow, and they’ll be at Dendra day after tomorrow.” “Truly?” Huda asked. “And how do you intend to achieve such speed? Alchemically enhanced horses?” “Better,” said the Captain, “We Gray Gardeners know how to travel in style.” He gave Huda his most disarming grin, but she seemed to be immune. My smile grew to match my father’s however; I had just figured out what arrangement he had made for us. I decided that I wouldn’t spoil the reveal – seeing the smugness wiped off of Huda’s face promised to be worth it. *** The sandskiff pulled up outside of town an hour before sunset. I know enough about such craft that I noticed how its lines differed from those of similar craft. I made a note to ask the crew about that later. The boat’s name – Opportunity’s Knockers – shone in gilded letters on the prow. Whether that name referred to the crew or to the impressively mammalian proportions of the figurehead was left to the viewer’s imagination. As I expected, Huda’s jaw dropped when she saw it. “I am… impressed, Captain,” she said, “I knew about your ties to Clan Redblade, of course, but I had no idea that you had a sandskiff already on the way.” “We didn’t,” Father said smugly, “But sylphs can fly at the speed of the Jetstream. Flying on her own Mami can get to Redblade Keep in about two hours. Then the Redblades would’ve gotten a boat ready to go by nightfall and shipped out at first light.” “I am amazed that they could provision for the trip so quickly,” Huda said. “Oh, they didn’t,” the captain admitted, “My message said that we’d handle that here. All they needed to do was get the boat and the crew ready. Speaking of the crew…” Father paused as two small figures leaped over the rails onto the sand, “…come and meet my goddaughters.” Father extended a hand, which Amethyst took, and the two of them led the way to the side of the boat. I felt my face spreading in a most un-sharif-like grin as my godsisters ran over to us. One of the two identical redheads scooped up Father and Amy and twirled them around without apparent effort. The other bounded up and enfolded me in a bone-crushing hug. “Papa Tony!” the first one cried, “It’s good ta see ye again!” “It’s good to see you too, shortcake,” Father said, “But ease up on the ribs! I like to breathe, y’know!” The girl laughed and put my father and sister down. “Lady Huda, may I present Fritzi and Frieda of Clan Redblade, daughters of Master Windmistress Siglind of Clan Redblade.” “A pleasure,” said Huda with a bob of her head that could possibly be construed as a bow, “But… which is Fritzi and which is Frieda?” Father shrugged. “Beats me. It’s not as if I can see the difference.” Huda was the only one present who didn’t laugh at this familiar joke. I decided to rescue my fellow anubis from her discomfiture. “This one is Fritzi,” I said as I untangled myself from the girl hugging me, “And the other is Frieda.” “And they both be powerful hungry,” Fritzi declared, “Where be those provisions we were promised, eh?” “The dockworkers will get the supplies aboard,” said Amy, “And Tana and I will get you two loaded up.” She winked. “But not too loaded. You do have to sail tomorrow, after all.” “Mum always says she sails better after a beer or two,” said Frieda. Father narrowed his eyes. “You’re sixteen. You’ll sail better after a fruit punch or two.” The twins sighed and answered in unison, “Yes, Papa Tony.” We started walking back to the tower just as Liam ran up to the boat. He trembled with anxiety as the dockworkers lowered a limp green form over the side. “Is Mami all right?” Amethyst asked. “Oh, aye, just tired,” Frieda replied, “Poor thing worked herself ta tha bone givin’ us fair winds tha whole way. That little one’s a trooper, she is.” “And after we’ve filled our own holds, we’ve business ta discuss,” Fritzi declared, “I understand that we be goin’ ta find lost Dendra. It just so happens that Clan Redblade be interested in acquirin’ the rights ta any unique sources o’ lumber we might discover.” She hooked her arm in Huda’s and starting towing the yinepet toward the tower. “Shall we discuss it over a fruit punch, milady?” “Uh, yes,” Huda said. I have to say that the look of discomfort on her face was well worth the effort of holding my laughter in. My father’s lunatic grin suggested that he agreed… and since he couldn’t see how discomfited Huda looked, I had no doubt as to who had mentioned lumber rights to Clan Redblade. Father rarely allowed himself petty revenge, but he made exceptions for bullies and for those as casually arrogant as Huda. *** The following sunrise found me and my team gathered on the deck of Opportunity’s Knockers. The entire town had turned out to bid us farewell. Mother, Father, and Mama Aneksi stood at the head of the crowd flanked by the house guard. Huda and her guards – a full twelve mummies – stood to one side of them. The cheering was too loud to make out individual voices. Mama Aneksi and my aunts were leaping and gesticulating. Mother and Father were more sedate, but I could see my father’s smile from fifty paces away. Mother stepped forward, and Zahra handed her a voice pendant. “Farewell, brave voyagers,” she intoned, “Return victorious, and bring glory to your clans. Return successful, and bring honor to your families.” Father leaned down by the pendant and added, “But most of all return soon, because we’ll miss you.” The cheers briefly transmuted to laughter, and the sharif favored the captain with one of her rare smiles. Fritzi and Frieda took this as their cue to weigh anchor. Frieda bounced from one side of the command deck to the other frantically working levers and throwing switches while Fritzi manned the wheel. They had wisely stationed the tireless Chavaleh at the tiller. The boat slowly gained speed as the sails filled. Inez’s nestmates flew alongside us for the first two miles, but Opportunity’s Knockers soon outpaced them. Fritzi turned the prow south and called, “Full sail!” Frieda threw a series of switches that unfurled more sails. The boat leaped forward like a horse eager for racing, and Gray Gardens soon disappeared in the distance. “If we keep up this pace we can be in the target area by sundown,” Frieda announced, “Best get yourselves some rest while ye can.” “You heard the woman, people,” I said in my best command voice, “To your hammocks!” A chorus of scattered aye-ayes preceded our not-so-mad dash below decks – except for Inez, who just had to get all clichéd and fly up to the crow’s nest. “Wake me if there is any trouble,” I said to the twins. “Be sure of it,” Fritzi replied. The cool shade below decks was in sharp contrast to the glaring light and blistering heat above. I found my hammock – hung next to Amy’s, of course – and climbed in. The night promised to bring plenty of work, and I intended to meet it well rested. I wrapped myself in the hammock’s gently rocking womb and let tension fall away with the miles. |
tygertygerJan 28, 2017 9:26 PM
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| Here we are, the third chapter and the last post before the New Year. Enjoy! CHAPTER 3: A MOUNTAIN WALKED AMETHYST I rolled out of my hammock as daylight surrendered to dusk. Katana still slept – of course, as I had much practice getting up without waking her – with her brow creased in the worry that she would never show to the rest of the team. I smiled down at my older sister. How someone so capable and caring could doubt herself so was a riddle no sphinx could unravel. Up on deck I could feel the wind of our passage and smell the cocktail of scents that it brought. My keen eyes also picked out hints of movement to the west. I padded up to the command deck and stood next to the wheel. “Good evening, Frieda,” I said. The dwarf nodded a return greeting, but she kept her eyes on her steering. “There is a nomad pack west of us,” I announced. “Aye, I seen ‘em,” she answered, “They’ll be no trouble, though. Inez says they be on camels. Too slow ta catch us.” My eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Inez is already awake?” “For nae ‘bout two hours,” said Frieda, “Been spellin’ Fritzi on the riggin’, she has.” She grinned. “The birdie’s a natural on the ropes.” “Bayet are known to be fast learners,” I acknowledged. “But manjet have better memories,” said Jameelah. Frieda jumped as the khepri glided up behind us. I silently chided myself for failing to give warning. In my defense, I was used to being around girls whose hearing was as good as mine. “Don’t be sneakin’ up on a body like that,” Frieda growled. “Sorry, sorry,” Jameelah said, “I just had to speak with our priestess.” I took note of her use of “our priestess” rather than “Amethyst” and discerned that this was something official. “Is it an important lore issue, Jameelah?” “I think so,” said the khepri, “I have been looking over the scrolls on Dendra. What they say about the city’s defenses is rather disturbing.” “Looking over the scrolls?” I asked, “When did you find time for that?” “Oh, I have been awake for three hours. I do not sleep much.” She smiled teasingly. “You would know that if you came to my sleepovers.” “No one at your sleepovers gets to sleep much,” I said wryly. “But tell me, why is a problem with the city’s defenses a lore issue rather than a military one?” “We be talkin’ magical defenses, that’s why,” said Frieda. Jameelah nodded. “As the Captain would say, ‘Got it in one.’ The Dendran government apparently encouraged its citizens to learn magic and rewarded them well for contributing to the city’s welfare.” “Like Michiko is reputed to do now,” I said. “Do the scrolls say anything about the exact nature of these defenses?” “Nothing specific,” Jameelah answered, “Which is to be expected; we are talking about lore that is over twelve-thousand years old. But even the hints and snippets give me pause.” “Hints an’ snippets such as…?” Frieda prompted. “Well… I am particularly concerned about three things,” said Jameelah. Katana, Daphne, and Ana approached as she spoke. “The Hand of Dendra seems to refer to a group of powerful warriors who guarded the city. Descriptions of their prowess suggest that they were as potent as a battalion of sobeket.” “That doesn’t sound too bad,” said Daphne, “We could take them if we could split them into small groups and engage the groups one at a time.” Jameelah shook her head. “The scrolls are vague on their number, but most estimates put it at five. That would make sense, as even among mamono a hand usually has five fingers. So, one small group as powerful as a battalion.” Daphne’s face fell. “Oh. Yeah, that could be a problem.” Jameelah continued as Inez fluttered down from the rigging, “And they are the last line of defense. Before them is the Fangs of Dendra, war-beasts of surpassing power and ferocity.” Katana said, “Let me guess; creatures of a type no longer found on the island.” “If the scrolls are to be believed, they were of a type not found in nature,” Jameelah corrected, “No two descriptions are alike, but all of them mention combinations of features that suggest that the Fangs are the products of sorcery.” “Let us hope that they are just a myth, then,” I said, “And the third item?” “That would be the Scales of Dendra,” Jameelah said. At confused looks from Ana and Frieda she elaborated, “No, not scales for weighing. Scales as in a crocodile’s hide. The scrolls say that the very bones of the earth were Dendra’s armor, and entire armies were ground to dust between them.” “’Bones of the earth?’ What does that even mean?” asked Ana. “I am not sure,” Jameelah replied, “But I have an idea, and it is not a pleasant one.” Fritzi ambled up to the group rubbing her eyes. “Of course ye got bad news for me soon as I wake up,” she said. “Jameelah was just telling us how we’re totally screwed,” Inez offered. “And not in the good way,” Daphne added. “Oh, poo! I am not saying that the mission is too dangerous and we should turn back,” said Jameelah, “I just think that we should exercise some caution.” “Caution for what we might be up against,” said Fritzi with a contemptuous snort. “Jameelah is right,” said Katana in her the-argument-is-over tone, “We were not sent to defeat monsters or risk our lives in pursuit of treasure. We are a scouting mission. Our duty is to gather information for the shaykh and return home to deliver it. We are not here to look for trouble.” Daphne arched her eyebrows. “What if trouble finds us?” Katana bared her fangs and grasped the handle of her new sword. “Then we deal with it.” “That’s all I wanted to hear,” the lizardman said. She headed back to the bunkhouse and said over her shoulder, “I’m going to check my weapons, just in case. Who’s with me?” “Got mine,” said Inez as she drummed her claws on the deck. “Me, too,” said Ana. She held out her hand and manifested a tiny ball of fire. “Show-offs,” Daphne said with an affectionate grin. She continued below while the rest of us gathered around Katana. My sister turned to address the helmsman. “How soon will we be in the target area?” “We been in it for the last hour, by my reckonin’,” said Frieda, “But the target’s pretty big. No tellin’ when we’ll be at the site proper.” “We should know when we are there,” said Ana, “A magical field as big as that much magic would produce will be easy to detect for magic sensitives, and that’s half our group. Jameelah especially should be able to feel it.” At that moment I felt a sensation like an ice cold rake running down my back. I gave out a yelp of dismay similar to the one that I saw my yearmate stifle. Ana clutched her belly and moaned, and Jameelah fell to her knees crying out in pain. The sensation passed quickly, but the nausea that it left in its wake persisted. “Ana,” Katana croaked, “We have got to work on your timing.” “Offhand, skipper, I’d say we be in marchin’ distance o’ Dendra,” Fritzi quipped as she helped Jameelah to her feet. “If that is so, the Scales should soon make their presence known,” said Tana, “Helm, sound the alert!” Frieda grasped a bell rope that hung next to the wheel and gave it three vigorous tugs. “Battle stations, ye sluggards!” A deep rumbling ground its way up from the earth as everyone rushed to comply. Inez flitted up to the crow’s nest while Jameelah and I scurried halfway up the rigging, I in the fore and she aft. Ana jetted to the bow watch. Katana took the starboard watch, and Fritzi went aft. Daphne would be up in short order to take the port side… … or at least she would have if the ship hadn’t given a sudden lurch. “What was that?” Ana squeaked. “We hit somethin’, or somethin’ hit us,” Frieda announced. “Ahoy, aloft! Keep a weather eye!” “Aye, helm!” Inez yelled. There was more rumbling as the raven girl scanned the ground before us before pointing with a wingtip. “Rocks dead ahead! Big ones!” “How big?” Katana asked. “Ummm… boat-sized?” said Inez. “No, strike that! Bigger than the boat!” “Bones of the earth, indeed,” I breathed. “Ancients and ancestors,” Jameelah whined, “I hate it when I am right.” “Ye just had to put ‘bigger than the boat’ in with ‘strike that,’ didn’t ye?” Fritzi groused. “Enough chatter,” yelled Katana, “Helm, evasive action!” “Aye, skipper!” Frieda spun the wheel, and Opportunity’s Knockers danced around the obstacle. “Not too bad so far.” Another chorus of tectonic grinding sounded in front of us. “Two more just popped up,” Inez bellowed, “One dead ahead, one off the port bow!” “Still not impressed,” said Frieda. She worked the wheel, and the ship turned to starboard. “Three more! Starboard bow, then port bow, then dead ahead!” “That be a bit more of a challenge,” the dwarf admitted. “Chavaleh! Hands off the tiller, take the port watch!” Frieda turned port to avoid one rocky spire, then quickly starboard to dodge the next. She continued the motion to maneuver around the third. The noise was almost continuous now, and we had to shout to be heard over it. “Six more,” the harpy yelled, “Alternating port bow and starboard bow!” Frieda didn’t spare the energy for a quip. She worked the wheel violently and slalomed through the rocks accompanied by a sound like the entire island groaning in pain. It seemed as if we’d gotten through unscathed until another violent impact shook the boat. “That weren’t no collision,” Fritzi said, “Somethin’ hit us in the keel!” Katana looked over the side and yelled, “A really big one, right under us!” As we watched a monolith rose from the sands like a great stone phallus. Opportunity’s Knockers sailed up the slope bleeding off speed to the steepening incline. The boat skidded to a stop a hair’s breadth from the end of the spire. I guessed our altitude at thrice the height of Gray Gardens’ tower. Frieda wiped her brow. “Whew! That was a close one. I thought for sure we’d go over the edge.” As if on cue the monolith began to shake violently, and the end crumbled to dust. Our vessel tipped forward so suddenly that my shipmates and I lost our footing, and I lost my hold on the rigging. With nothing to grasp but empty air I was helpless in the grip of gravity. Then the bow pointed itself at the earth and the boat began to fall. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
tygertyger said: Clarus Nox's story: this is a special case. The crossover between these stories occurs about a year after the climax of Sun Garden I. However, the crossover of this story and dcw's may have caused a continuity glitch. I find this topic interesting because I planned to use the alternative history thing in my story and there are tons of possibilities. MoniStar's part 3 story is also MSGC which means it is set in "present day" e.g. along with Clarux_Nox's and dcw2021's stories. If Sebastian witnessed the concert before birth of Veronica, it would also mean that Clarux_Nox either travelled in time cca 15-17 years or spent same time in coma as a result of injury. And in "present day" Grey Gardens are already established power and it would also mean Yudayahito's Haktiva led war for another 15 years. Unsure what might happened to others like Beast_regards' group in the meantime as it hasn't been established in any story yet. EmeraldTryst's stories employs enough time skips combined with epic magical powers that it can easily fit almost anywhere unless other story jumps in. Also does this story means the expedition to the far lands possibly beyond the ocean or it should be a hidden island somewhere off-coast? |
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Illustrated and all-covering moment incoming  |
| Signature removed. It was too good for this cruel world. |
Malise said: Also does this story means the expedition to the far lands possibly beyond the ocean or it should be a hidden island somewhere off-coast? The expedition is to the southern part of the island near the border with Amarante. This is the area where desert starts to give way to grassland; the climate there is more tropical than arid. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
Look like Dendra hired Toph for their first line of defence. Dang! That's going to be a tough nut to crack...  |
| Oh yes, I do so love when the cliffhangers are over actual cliffs. The magic sensing hairs on the back of my neck have been itching like crazy too...and maybe some bored/angry gnome(s) having a go at the team. Guess we'll find out next year =P |
| CHAPTER 4: ELDRITCH CONTRADICTIONS OF ALL MATTER KATANA There was no time for deep thought about our predicament. There was only that strange slow-motion sense of time that comes when the situation is very, very bad. My world compressed to a series of vignettes brief enough to fit between heartbeats. THUMP. The deck shook like a rat in a jackal’s mouth. The entire ship lurched. THUMP. Amethyst was thrown from the foremast, and most of my courage with her. THUMP. Jameelah lost her grip on the aft mast. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Inez catapulted from the crow’s nest. Ana fell like a meteor from the bow. THUMP. Fritzi and Chavaleh came cartwheeling down from the stern. The golem snapped several lines as she fell through the rigging. The dwarf barely got her feet under her before she slammed into the aft mast. Frieda held onto the wheel by dwarven strength and sheer stubbornness. THUMP. I spared a thought for Daphne, not quite safe in the bunkhouse, as my own feet left the deck. Gravity and despair joined forces to pull me down… THUMP. …But I remembered that I am a Warren, and we do not give up so easily. The first problem was getting down safely. Frieda had a solution for part of that. She let go of the wheel with one hand and slapped a large red button. Spring-driven horizontal sails unfurled from the vessel’s flanks. Fritzi and Frieda’s innovation might be enough to save the boat… and if the boat was saved, so was anyone who managed to stay on it. Stray lines whipped around me as I fell further away from the descending sandskiff. I grabbed a rope as it whipped within reach and swung myself aboard. That was me, the twins, and Daphne safe. I looked around to see how the others were doing. A plume of flame reminded me that Ana was never in danger. She roared skyward on a column of fire – away from the boat, so as not to torch the sails. Her fiery form could not carry anyone else, but at least she did not need rescue. Jameelah stopped caterwauling as her wing-sheaths snapped open. Translucent wings blurred to invisibility as she spiraled down to a safe landing. Alas, Jameelah was equally incapable of carrying someone else. Amethyst, unfortunately, could neither fly nor glide. Fear gripped me as she flailed helplessly against empty air, but a black arrow swooped down to intercept her fall. Inez, unlike Jameelah and Ana, could carry someone else. My yinepet ears picked up a stream of impressively creative curses from the bunkhouse. Daphne was having a rough ride, but now that the boat was safe so was she. That was everyone accounted for except… Chavaleh! I could do nothing but watch as the golem plummeted to the ground. Jameelah screamed and angled toward her friend, but she was as powerless as I. At least I was spared the sight of Chavaleh hitting the ground as Frieda hauled back on the wheel and brought Opportunity’s Knockers back to level. The boat briefly gave the illusion of a stately glide before a bone-jarring impact announced her reacquaintance with the earth. A second impact followed the disintegration of the skids. The vessel ground to a halt in a cloud of dust like even the Lords had never seen. Fritzi jumped down to the deck with a thump. “Look after the others, skipper,” she declared, “I’ll see to the boat.” Sound advice, that. I vaulted over the side to where I guessed Inez and Amy would land. The harpy released my sister two body lengths above the ground, and Amethyst landed with her usual catlike grace. Inez glided to a perfect touchdown before dropping to her knees panting. I squeezed her shoulder before wrapping my sister in a much-needed (by me) embrace. Amy and I held each other hard enough to have injured our father. “Do not ever scare me like that again,” I whispered. “I would prefer not to scare me like that again,” she replied. We broke the embrace and turned toward the dust cloud that marked where Chavaleh had come to earth. “Golems are tough,” said Amethyst, “She might have…” Jahmeelah’s arrival interrupted her hopeful speculation. The khepri hit the ground in a clatter of wing-cases and bolted into the dust. “No, no, ancestors, please, no…” she whimpered. The ever-present desert wind scoured the dust cloud away to reveal a crater. In that crater knelt a much-the-worse-for-wear golem with hairline cracks running up her body from ankles to cheeks. Chavaleh stayed dead still with her fists and jaw clenched as if force of will alone held her together. Jameelah fell to her knees before the golem and wept openly. “Chava! You are alive!” “Barely,” Chavaleh whispered, “I will not last much longer.” The tortured sound of her voice, as if she had been gargling gravel, made me fear that she was right. “You will be fine,” Jameelah said, “Just hold on while I get my pack, I will fix you good as new.” Chavaleh smiled. “You mean the pack you left back on the boat? I won’t hold together long enough for you to get back with it.” She gently stroked Jameelah’s cheek, and her fingers came away wet. “I have loved you from the day we met, Jameelah daughter of Qirat. Thank you for being my friend.” Ceramic crumbs fell from Chavaleh’s body, and Jameelah started to cry in earnest. I felt my own eyes misting up before Daphne saved me from making a fool of myself. “I hate to interrupt this lovely death scene, but… well, no I don’t.” The lizardman swaggered over to Jameelah’s side and held out the medic’s pack. Jameelah let out a gleeful yelp and snatched the bag. In seconds she produced what looked like a ball of roiling black smoke. “Here,” she said, “Inhale. Mix it with some of the semen in your tank. That should repair you.” Chavaleh shook her head. “I can’t take your sekha, Jameelah! You have been saving it for your wedding night!” “Oh, pooh!” Jameelah’s wings buzzed in irritation. “I brought this stuff specifically to heal you! I can make more sekha! I cannot make another you! INHALE!” The khepri’s rarely used command voice startled the golem into obedience. She inhaled the ball of demonic energy and shuddered as it suffused her body. Her skin glowed with amber light as the cracks started sealing themselves. “She will be very… sensitive… once the healing is complete,” said Jameelah. “Some privacy would be helpful.” “I’ll clear the bunkhouse for you,” said Daphne. As the lizardman spoke I noticed her condition for the first time. She was covered with cuts that had only recently stopped bleeding. None of the wounds were terribly deep, but some of them were quite long. “What happened to you?” “I got bounced around inside a room full of blades.” Amethyst choked back a laugh, and the soldier glared. “Laugh it up, tabby.” “I am sorry,” said Amy, who looked anything but, “But it really is your own fault for laying them all out before you sharpened them.” Daphne sighed. “Yeah, I know.” She moved to clap Chavaleh on the back, but a glare from Jameelah turned that into a pat on the shoulder. “Glad to see you’re still with us, Clay Pigeon.” She turned back to the boat and went off on her promised errand. I turned to address the others. I reached into Jameelah’s pack and pulled out a rag and some disinfectant. “I will see about cleaning Daphne’s wounds,” I said, “Is there anyone else who needs treatment?” “There’s some therapy I could use if we find a man in this ancients-forsaken waste,” Inez offered. “Mind out of the gutter, Inez,” I scolded. “So mine can float by,” Amy said under her breath. I rolled my eyes. “If you two are well enough to make jokes, I will check on Fritzi and Frieda.” I turned and went back to the boat. Once aboard I could see that Opportunity’s Knockers hadn’t fared as well as her crew. Fritzi and Ana finished tying off the lines that could still be tied off, and then Fritzi walked over to her twin and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “The boat is safe, darlin’. Ye can let go now.” At these words Frieda’s eyes unglazed and she released her deathgrip on the wheel. The dwarf collapsed into her sister’s arms and shook as the adrenaline wore off. “Everything okay here?” I asked. Fritzi nodded. “We’ll be all right, skipper. We just need a mo’.” “The boat is in bad shape, though,” Ana said, “We need to replace almost half of the rigging, we have torn sails, and the aft mast is cracked. It could use a brace.” “It could use replacin’, but where we gonna find a log that size out here?” said Fritzi. “In Dendra, perhaps?” I said with a sly grin. Fritzi answered with one of her trademark contemptuous snorts. Daphne strolled onto the deck and announced, “Bunkhouse is ready.” I nodded. “Good. Now get over here and let me clean those cuts.” Daphne came over and offered her arms, which I liberally dabbed with antiseptic. She endured the sting with the usual stoicism of sobeket and only flinched slightly when I cleaned the deepest wounds. She gave a quiet grumble when I moved to her legs. “What is this, a crack in the mighty Sandwalker façade?” “Never,” said Daphne with a grimace, “Just a waste of good alcohol if you ask me.” She raised her arms when I motioned for it, and I started cleaning her belly and flanks. “So, it looks like one of Jameelah’s predictions came true.” “Considering how that turned out for us, let us hope that she is wrong about the other two,” I said. “Yeah…” said Daphne, “The problem with that is, she’s never wrong about this stuff.” “Then let us hope that she has some good news to share soon,” I said. “Seconded,” Daphne replied. She twirled so that I could reach the cuts on her back and flashed a wicked grin over her shoulder. “So, if I’m feeling ‘sensitive’ after this, will you take care of me like Jameelah’s taking care of Chavaleh?” I splashed a bit of antiseptic directly onto one of the deeper cuts, and Daphne hissed. “I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ Too bad. All work and no play…” “…Makes Katana the sharif,” I finished for her. I wiped a last bit of blood from her armor and bundled up the rag. “Go arm yourself – you have first watch. Wake me for second watch. It may be pleasant weather for sleeping on deck, but that is no reason to be careless.” Daphne’s eyes narrowed. “You expect the Fangs to show up that quick?” “We do not need the Fangs of Dendra to make this a short trip,” I declared, “There could be nomads out there… or worse, Dal Shafar. There could also be nothing. But whatever awaits us, we should be ready for it.” “You got it, chief,” the lizardman agreed. She turned to retrieve her weapons, but a shout from Ana interrupted her. “Katana, you need to see this!” Daphne and I ran to the bow with Fritzi and Frieda close behind. The sight that greeted us stopped the breath in our throats and drew gasps of amazement even from the hard-to-impress dwarves. “Ancestors and ancients,” I whispered. “Blood and ash,” echoed Daphne. “By Gudrun’s Hammer,” said Fritzi. Frieda merely nodded in awe. The city shimmered in the last light of the setting sun. Reds, purples, blues, and yellows flashed like fireworks. The riot of glorious colors was almost painful to eyes that had seen little but the gold of endless sands. The hue that stood out the most was green – the green of emeralds, the green of deep, mysterious seas, and most of all the green of rich, succulent leaves. Even from this distance, a good day’s march, I could see more vegetation in this one city than in all the rest of Ahmose that I had seen in my life. Even to one who had grown up with the relative riches of Grey Gardens, this place presented a wealth of resources that brought drool to the lips and tears to the eyes. Inez looked up from where she stood on the sands next to Jameelah and Chavaleh. “I’m no loremaster,” she quipped, “But I’m pretty sure we’ve found Dendra.” |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| Dang, how high was that pillar? |
| Have you ever considered giving Fritzi heavy German accent? |
| Signature removed. It was too good for this cruel world. |
beast_regards said: Have you ever considered giving Fritzi heavy German accent? Heh! I see what you did there. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| Maybe this is just an impression I get from the deep desert setting, but I feel like seeing that much green has to also be an indication of great potential danger. People flock around oases for a reason and that this isn't (any longer) a bustling metropolis seems telling in the most intriguingly nail-biting of ways. Adventure, ho! |
| I'very caught up. Let us hope this does not turn out like the green vault in fallout. |
| I don't have to know what I'm looking for. I just have to know when I find it. |
| CHAPTER 5: A DREAM OF STRANGE CITIES AMETHYST Amazement. That was what I felt as a little girl the first time that I saw an audience that had come to hear my father. It was what I felt as an adolescent when I saw a dragon in her ancient form. And it was what I felt as a grown woman as I saw Dendra glittering on the horizon like the jewels in an empress’s crown. A canopy of trees provided an embarrassing wealth of shade to the city streets. Outside the city, perhaps half a day’s walk closer to our location, vast fields overflowed with enough crops to feed all of Ahmose. The city was easily the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I stood spellbound watching Dendra beckon to the thirsty, hungry, and lost with its promise of blessed coolness until the last light of day fled before the swift-falling desert night, and then the city vanished as if it had never been. “Wha… it’s gone!” Inez shouted, “Was it a mirage?” “So it would appear,” I replied, “Or disappear, as the case may be.” Jameelah rolled her eyes. “Of all the qualities you could have inherited from your father, you had to get his sense of humor? Truly?” “At least she didn’t get his love of puns like Talwar and Jade did,” said Inez. The khepri nodded. “Yes, there is that.” “If you are finished bantering,” Katana said in that mock-sweet tone that she uses before she starts breaking heads, “Get back aboard. I want everyone on the boat before anything else suddenly appears from nowhere.” Inez flew up to the deck immediately. I waited while Chavaleh struggled up the ladder with Jameelah clinging to the hull beside her. I came up last, and only saw how serious my sister was about potential danger when I stepped onto the deck. Daphne and Katana both stood at the rail with bows at the ready and arrows nocked. “Is something amiss?” I inquired. “No,” Tana answered, “But as Father says, it is not paranoia if they are really out to get you. I would rather be overly cautious than… insufficiently cautious.” “Sensible,” I agreed, “Would you like a recon sweep, then?” My sister shook her head. “No one else in the group has your night vision – though mine is close – and I am not sending you out there alone. Nor would it be wise for me to accompany you; that risks both of us.” “I could light the navigation beacon,” Frieda offered. “And announce our presence to every marauding band and wandering predator within a hundred miles? I will pass, thank you,” I said. “So what do we do, skipper,” Fritzi asked, “It’s a good bet we’re not sailin’ anytime soon.” “We will do what repairs we can to the sails and rigging,” Katana answered, “And wait for daylight to assess the damage to the skids and keel.” She gestured toward Jameelah. “Get Chavaleh settled, then come out and help with repairs. Ana and I will work until Jameelah comes out, then we are going to bed.” “Huh? Why me?” “Because you have third watch,” said Tana. Repairs ended up taking most of the night. Replacing the snapped lines in the rigging was not too bad – harakhtet are excellent climbers, and manjet are even better. We spent the most time replacing the torn sails. We could not simply discard the old sails. They were still good for making patches if the need should arise, so we had to store them carefully. Then, just as carefully, we hung the new sails and left them neatly furled. Alas, the biggest obstacle to getting Opportunity’s Knockers sandworthy still lay ahead of us. We spent the last two hours tidying up the mess that you can’t avoid when a vessel nearly upends itself. By the time we finished the Sun was peeking over the horizon. The first crimson-and-gold rays illuminated a varicolored paradise – the city was back, and it was even more breathtaking in the light of the rising Sun. “Ancestors, that’s gorgeous,” said Ana, “If we find a way to make it stay, can we move our town here?” “After what they went through to win Gray Gardens, my parents would never stand for that,” I said, “Which is a shame. Those crops would make our lives a great deal simpler.” Ana’s brow wrinkled. “Nobody goes hungry at Gray Gardens,” she said, “In fact, we have enough extra to hold feasts for guests.” “For now,” I said. I gave Ana a “wait” sign and paused while the twins went below decks – they had gotten no rest during the night or the previous day, yet they insisted on working until the boat was in order. When they were safely out of earshot I told Ana, “Gray Gardens is not as prosperous as we would have people believe.” “How can this be,” the ignis asked, “The fields produce more than enough!” “For a population of two-hundred, yes,” I said, “And they must have looked like endless wealth when fewer than twenty people lived there. But there are now nearly four-hundred souls that either call Gray Gardens home or live close enough to depend on the town’s resources to survive, and more arrive every month. Desert Rose brings in enough that we don’t have to import food – yet – but that state of affairs will not last.” Ana frowned. “You are telling me that we are one generation away from being poor dirt farmers, little better than the nomads and raiders that surround us?” “No, Ana,” I said with a sigh, “I am telling you that we are already poor dirt farmers, and we are one generation away from becoming nomads and raiders. Only the success of Desert Rose – especially those ‘benefit shows’ for which the poor are allowed to pay in produce or livestock – allows us to present the illusion of being otherwise.” I have always believed that Ana is an intelligent girl. The worried look on her face confirmed my suspicions. She asked, “Who else knows about this?” “My parents told me and Katana,” I said, “Shotel figured it out on her own. The Tower Guard and the militia officers also know. And if the recent increase in her drinking is any indication, our good doctor has her suspicions.” I paused to entertain an unpleasant thought. “It would not surprise me if Shaykh Yabhoudi and Lady Huda also know of our predicament. That could well be why they have taken a sudden interest in us.” Ana favored me with a solemn look and held it for a long moment. “You have entrusted me with a great secret,” she said at last, “Thank you for showing me such trust.” “If my sister and I did not trust you this much you would not be here,” I said, “We considered telling you all up front, but we decided to wait until we were on the march to Dendra.” “’On the march,’ not ‘sailing…’” Ana mused, “Which means that Fritzi and Frieda are not to know.” “Correct. Clan Redblade is a friend to us, but they are merchants first and foremost. They might well stand by us if they knew of our problem, but the sharif and the priestess prefer to not take that chance.” “The sharif and the priestess…” Ana mused, “What does the captain think?” “He prefers that we not get into the habit of keeping secrets from our closest friends – he says that it ‘will turn around and bite us’ – but he was outvoted.” The ignis nodded. “So when do we tell the others?” “We will tell them tonight after we have left the boat,” I declared, “Our main mission is to gather information for the shaykh, but if we can find treasure to help our home we should. That task will be easier if we are all looking.” “All right, then.” Ana huffed out a puff of smoke. I was sufficiently familiar with the nature of elementals to recognize that as a sign of how agitated she was. “For now, only one of us is on watch. You should get some rest.” “Good advice,” I said, “I will see you at breakfast.” I followed Fritzi and Frieda below decks and availed myself of my hammock. I expected that I would be sleeping rough for at least a week, so I would enjoy these softer accommodations while I could. *** We finished our preparations to leave an hour before sundown, but the coming night didn’t promise to be as black as my sister’s mood. Katana ran her palm down her face and squeezed her eyes shut, and if she had heaved that sigh any harder it would have landed somewhere near home. “Tell me once again why we need to split the group.” “Like I said, skipper, we lost all four skids when we took that little bump,” said Fritzi, “We need to jack the keel up to put new ones on. We’ve got spares, but me and Frieda alone can’t lift the boat.” “Not even if we unload it first,” Frieda added. “So you are saying that you cannot get the skids repaired,” said Katana. Anyone who knew her well would have chosen their next words carefully upon hearing the icy calm in her voice. “No, boss, we’re saying that we need some extra hands to get the skids repaired,” Frieda replied. “This party is minimal as it is! We cannot spare anyone!” Tana growled and began to pace. “Ancients and ancestors, why now?” Chavaleh laid her hand on the yinepet’s shoulder. “I can stay. I am stronger than any three of you combined. With the twins’ help and a good lever I can lift the boat.” My sister did not look pleased about losing our strongest member, but really, what was there to be done? Tana took a deep breath and tried to exhale the tension. “How long?” Fritzi combed a hand through her hair. “Well… even with Chava’s help, we’ll need to unload the boat to make it light enough to lift. Then we need to set up a lever – we might be able to rig up something from the broken skids. I figure a full day for all that. Another two or three days to get the skids on.” Katana contained her frustration with visible effort. “All right. Chavaleh, join us as soon as you can. We will leave markers for you to follow.” Our leader shouldered her pack, and the rest of us followed suit. We said hasty goodbyes to the twins while Jameelah wrapped Chavaleh in a somewhat more than sisterly embrace. Then we turned southeast and marched off single file to the south. Katana set a hard pace; it was our goal to reach the outskirts of the city by daybreak. Four hours of jogging – soaring for Inez – brought us to the area where we believed the fields started. Here we took our first break. Daphne broke out her field rations, so everyone else did likewise. “Jerky, jerky, and more jerky,” the sobeket grumbled, “I guess we’ll be living on this for a while.” “At least it’s meat,” said Inez, “Smart of our fearless leader to bring mostly carnivores on this trip.” “The fact that all of you can live comfortably on meat alone was a large factor in your selection,” Katana agreed. She covered a demure belch and stretched to work out kinks she would never admit to having. “We will rest another half-hour to digest our meal, then we will push on.” “Sounds good to me,” said Daphne. She lay across the sand with per pack as a pillow and closed her eyes. Inez followed suit. Jameelah leaned against her pack in half-lotus position and hummed to herself. That brought a smile from me – as a Warren, I was born to music. My mind searched for a suitable melody without conscious effort on my part, and I began to sing. What would you do if I sang out of tune, Would you stand up and walk out on me? Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song And I’ll try not to sing out of key… Inez sat up when I started singing, and she and Jameelah joined me on the chorus. Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends, Mmm, I get high with a little help from my friends, Oo, gonna try with a little help from my friends, Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends. On the second verse Katana joined her alto to my soprano. Jameelah and I kept time by snapping our fingers. What do you do when your love is away, Does it worry you to be alone… Daphne and Ana joined in on the second chorus, and by the third verse we were all grinning like schoolgirls. Jameelah and Inez started playing around with harmonies on the bridge. Do you need anybody? I need somebody to love. Could it be anybody? I want somebody to love. On the last verse Inez, Jameelah, and I alternated lines with Katana, Ana, and Daphne. Would you believe in a love at first sight? Yes, I’m certain that it happens all the time. What do you see when you turn out the light? I can’t tell you, but I know it’s mine. By the next chorus we were swaying in synch with each other and beating out the rhythm however we could – feet on the sand, hands on thighs, or drumming on packs. We sang the chorus one more time and let the sound roll out across the desert carrying our tension and tiredness with it. …I get by with a little help from my friends, With a little help from my friends! There was no audience to applaud our performance, but that was all right. We applauded ourselves and each other. A paying audience is nice to have, but sometimes all one needs is the joy of the song itself. When we came down from that shared peak I turned to Daphne. “You surprise me, warrior. I did not know that you had it in you.” “You kidding? Sergeant Simrit teaches singing as part of our physical training,” the lizardman said, “She says it’s good for learning breath control.” She stood up and stretched. “Chief, I know you said we’d break for half an hour, but I’m feeling energized now. What say we get back on the road?” “I’m okay with that,” Ana said. “Me, too,” said Inez. “Me three!” Jameelah chirped. The rest of us groaned. “Complain all you want, but I was going to use that! You have no idea how long I have been saving it!” Katana chuckled. “Very well, if it will forestall any more bad jokes, we can continue.” We all hefted our packs and resumed our travels. The pace was just as fast, but our steps were lighter now. We kept up our march until the first rays of dawn crept over the horizon. Dendra appeared almost dead center in our path – a testament to my sister’s orienteering skills – and it was even lovelier up close. We paused to quickly look for possible areas to begin our search. When the city faded from view Inez furrowed her brow in concentration. “There is a something green on the eastern edge of the city. Looks like a patch of grass and a single tree.” Ana frowned. “I see nothing.” “Of course not,” Daphne said, “You don’t have those super-sharp bayet eyes. A harpy can see a rabbit moving through underbrush from three-hundred paces up.” “True,” said Katana, “Inez, take point and lead us to this patch of green. I want to know why it stayed when everything else went away.” The harpy nodded and took to the air. We resumed our march once again, at a more cautious pace this time, and spread into a wedge formation. Katana and Daphne readied their bows while Jameelah and I drew our knives. It took about two hours for us to reach our target. As Inez predicted there was a circle of grass roughly fifty paces across. In the center of the circle there was a tree so gnarled as to have stolen the curves from the rest of the landscape and left nothing but straight lines. At the base of the tree I spied what I first took for a pile of rags. On closer examination I saw that it was a figure wrapped in a tattered cloak. The cloth looked as ancient as scraps of Old Dynasty tapestries that I had seen during my schooling. Then the figure looked up, and the deep lines on her face made me think that Old Dynasty was too recent. Ancestors, I thought, She is as gnarled as that tree. The old woman’s cracked lips bent in a gap-toothed smile, and she beckoned to us. “Come closer, my dears, I shan’t bite,” she said, “No longer have I the teeth for it.” She cackled at her own joke and waved us over. “Welcome to Dendra. I am Meshara, and this…” she patted the tree, “…is Nuesh. We have the answers that thou sleekest. Come, sit. Spare a few sips of water for an old woman and her tree, and we shall tell thee all.” |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| Hmm an old woman and a named tree, could it be we have an ancient dryad here? |
| It's a possibility... ;) |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| Somehow I never pictured your group to pretend they have more than they do. |
| I don't have to know what I'm looking for. I just have to know when I find it. |
| When I think on it, it really does seem like overpopulation would be a serious issue in the case of an oasis like Gray Gardens. Sort of surprised you haven't turned it into a huge tourist trap on the back of Darkstar's popularity. Then again...I doubt discussions of ways to solve those financial issues really became a hot item until it was already a problem. Really excited about what this old lady is going to have to say =) |
| CHAPTER 6: POISON CITY OF MADNESS KATANA The old woman appeared to be harmless, so I relaxed the tension on my bowstring. On the other hand, my stepmother appears to be nothing more than a flighty courtesan, yet she has killed over a dozen people. I left the arrow nocked just in case. “Greetings, honored elder,” I said. I was glad now for my mother’s lessons in diplomacy. “I am called Katana. These others are my sister Amethyst, warrior Daphne, scout Inez, scholar Ana, and healer Jameelah.” I indicated each of my companions as I introduced her. “Amethyst, give her some water. Ana, water the tree.” Daphne raised her eyebrows. “Water the tree? You’re kidding, right?” “I am not,” I declared. “Go ahead, Ana.” “He liketh it poured slowly over the roots,” said Meshara. Ana shrugged and complied. Meshara nodded in approval. “I thank thee for thy generosity… and I commend thee for thy caution. Thy introduction was enough to be polite without revealing thy full names. Thou hast clearly had instruction in magical theory.” “My mother is a necromancer of no small skill,” I said. I felt no shame at being proud of this statement; the sharif of Gray Gardens may have little talent for curse magic, but her ability to control mummies is the stuff of legend. Amethyst handed Meshara her canteen. The old woman accepted it, took a few dainty sips, and handed it back. “Thankee, my dear.” She settled her back against the tree and took a few deep breaths. “Well, now… thou two art sisters, thou sayest? And yet neither of thee smells of coluine, who call themselves echidna. This means that thy two mothers have learned to share. Commendable, that.” I bowed my head to acknowledge the compliment. “As commendable as one of the renenet, who call themselves dryads, keeping such a long vigil in defense of her city.” The dryad chuckled. “Thou hast misunderstood my dedication, I fear. It is true that my vigil has been long, but I seek not to defend the city. I intend to destroy it.” That got reactions from all of my compatriots. Amethyst quickly hopped back to the group. Daphne drew back her bow, and Inez and Jameelah assumed guard positions. Ana’s constantly flaming aura flared brighter. I alone remained relaxed… in posture, at least. I gave two quick flicks of my ears in one of the signals that we had arranged in advance. Wait. My teammates all remained combat ready, but they held their positions. “Ladies, please, I mean thee no harm,” Meshara said, “Quite the opposite, in fact. Dendra is a wicked city – surely thou hast heard the tales that are no doubt legends by now? Its denizens mean no good to any save their own.” She reached into the rags covering her scrawny frame and pulled out a rough-edged stone. “Thy rather adventurous entrance into Dendra’s border marches should be proof enough of their hostility, I should think.” “You saw that?” Jameelah asked. “I did not need to,” said the dryad, “I could feel the rumbling as the rocks surfaced from here, even while I was Between. Also, the mana sinks have been depleted.” She sighed. “A shame, that. All that power would have been most useful to me. Alas, I shall have to find another way.” Ana pointed at the stone in Meshara’s hand. “That is the same kind of stone that the Scales of Dendra were made of.” The elemental narrowed her eyes. “There are magical practices in which a small stone like that could be used to control larger ones.” The dryad laughed. “My, thou art a suspicious one, little democrine! They chose well when they chose to bring thee.” She turned the stone over in her hand, and her eyes unfocused as she gazed at it. “’Tis true, there art magicks by which this sliver could be used to control the whole from which it was chipped, but I know them not. I am but a simple hedge wizard. A working of the magnitude of the Scales of Dendra requires at least half-a-dozen geomancers of master skill or better. Any less and the strain would kill one or more of them, even with the mana sinks. By myself I was hard pressed to anchor my grove to this spot, and it has taken me more than a thousand years, my time, to drag this patch of grass from the jaws of the Between. No, these old bones offer no threat to thee.” I nodded. “I sense that you are telling the truth, and getting a lie past a Tomb Guardian of the Pharoahs is no small thing. But you have yet to explain why you wish to see Dendra destroyed.” Meshara smiled one of those finally-a-good-question smiles that my father used when he was trying to teach us something. “A fair question, young one, and I shall provide thee with a fair answer. Or rather, Nuesh shall.” At her words a cloud of pollen burst from the tree. My friends and I tried to spring into action, but drowsiness overtook us and we sank to the ground. Daphne’s bow discharged harmlessly into the grass, and Ana’s flame damped down to a mere smolder. A giant’s fingers pressed my eyes shut, and I slept… and what dreams there were to fill that sleep! *** The city gleamed in the sun like a well-polished jewel. Each tower was a facet carefully shaped to bespeak wealth and power. The treasures of entire cities were inlaid in the city’s roofs, and even the cobbles of Dendra’s streets glittered with powdered gemstones. The city was a weapon aimed at the pride of all who saw her, and her every aspect said, “Bow before us, for we are greater than you.” The city was also cool despite its location in the deep desert. Every house had trees in its yard, and the public buildings all had hanging gardens. Greenbelts were sufficiently large and numerous to support wildlife as large as deer, and the great swaths of farmland outside the city could have fed armies. Teams of hydromancers and aeromancers, directed by their outlander husbands, herded clouds over the mountains to the east and provided the city with rain. The green of the city said, “Envy us, for we have plenty which you will never enjoy.” But Dendra’s greatest treasure was her people. They were great in number and varied in type – draconics, serpentines, giants, and elementals mingled freely with majin, bestials, fey, and succubi. The most numerous by far were the plant women. They lounged in the gardens and held court in the parks, growing in greater numbers than they did anywhere else on the island. Their flowers decorated the entire city, and the city’s air was heavy with their perfume. The glorious scents and colors of them said, “Love us, for we are beautiful beyond compare.” Alas, of Dendra’s three messages it was the second that the other denizens of the island heard the loudest. Armies they sent against the Shining City, in legions so vast that even Dendra’s vaunted fields could not have fed them all. When they reached the outskirts of the city great stones erupted from the earth and smashed them like insects. The few that survived marched on. When they reached the city limits they were set upon by beasts of shadow and smoke. Those who weren’t torn apart, fools that they were, marched on. When they reached the heart of the city five warriors, women seemingly made of living tar, rose up and smote the handful that remained. None of the invaders survived, or even died in one piece. Then Dendra sent forth its own armies. Thousands of troops, of every type on the island and some that live there no more, swept across the sands to pillage at will. Of those who opposed them the fortunate died in battle. The unfortunate went to the Shining City in chains. So great was Dendra’s cruelty that the gentlest of her own people could not abide it. They fled into the desert to make their own way, and Dendra left them alone in hope that her lost children would someday return to the fold. In time Dendra’s queens – there were two, for the Shining City was too great a realm for just one ruler – sought to take their place among the Lords. For their arrogance Lord Charisse herself led an army to take the Shining City. But Dendra’s sorceresses were wise. They gathered all the power in the city’s stores of magic and used it to shift the city out of the world and out of time… but they vowed to return when their enemies in the desert were no more. The city’s departure left a lone figure beside the last tree in the desert. In her eyes was the glint of determination, and in her hand was a knife that hungered for the city’s blood. She sat down next to the tree and began to sharpen her knife, and a year fell away for each stroke of the whetstone. She, and the tree, knew that the knife would be sharp enough to cut ideas by the time the city returned. *** I awoke to the sound of a low, throaty growl. I almost chided Amethyst for the lapse of self-control before I realized that the sound was coming from me. I schooled myself to stoicism and levered my body to a sitting position. A quick glance showed that Ana was already up, and the others soon followed. Jameelah seemed to have been hit the hardest, while Daphne had already retrieved her arrow and had her bow leveled at Meshara. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t perforate you,” the lizardman snarled. Meshara sighed dramatically. “Thou sawest the vision, lacertine. Thou knowest that I am not thy enemy.” She hauled herself to her feet with visible effort. “I have been patient with thee because I know that thou art but children, but I am an old woman. I have little time, and I shan’t have it wasted on these games. LOWER. THY. WEAPON.” The command tone in the dryad’s voice was unmistakable… and I could feel the force of some kind of enchantment behind it. Daphne lowered her bow and eased the tension on the bowstring. Ana’s flame dampened again, and Jameelah actually dropped her knife. I still held my bow ready, but it took all my strength of will to do so, and I could see Amethyst having a similar struggle to keep her knife raised. Meshara gave an approving nod. “Thou two art strong. That is good. I have need of thy strength, for mine own is insufficient for the task at hand.” “We are not your lackeys,” Amethyst said through clenched teeth. “No,” the dryad acknowledged, “Thou art no doubt here on behalf of some noble who believes that Dendra’s riches are ripe for plunder. There art too few of thee to be treasure hunters, however. Thou wouldst be the scouts, I should think.” She sat back down, and the relief on her face was plain. “Still, each of thee has talents that will make my task easier. I dare say that without thee I would surely fail… and the vision thou hast been shown should be proof enough that I should not be allowed to fail. But honor demands that I offer thee, if not choice, some benefit to thyselves. So, if thou would willingly aid me I shall direct thee to treasures that thou canst take with thee when thou leavest. Have we an agreement?” I looked to my sister; this seemed a good time to seek her input. “It would appear that we have little choice,” Amy said with her voice. With her tail she gave three quick flicks left-right-left. Danger/suspicion. I dipped my ears slowly down-up to signal agreement. “Very well, then,” I said, “We agree to your terms. But at the first sign of betrayal, our alliance is concluded.” “I expect nothing less,” said Meshara, “Now sit there at the edge of the grass… and it would be nice if one of thee helped me over there. I will teach thee the layout of the city.” “Will you also be teaching us what you meant by, ‘Between?’” Ana inquired. “Oh, yes, my dears,” said the dryad with her eyes agleam, “That is the most important thing that thou must know. It is that knowledge which will allow us to destroy Dendra once and for all.” And with that she began to draw in the sand and showed us how to kill a city. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
tygertyger said: Alas, of Dendra’s three messages it was the second that the other denizens of the island heard the loudest. Armies they sent against the Shining City, in legions so vast that even Dendra’s vaunted fields could not have fed them all. When they reached the outskirts of the city great stones erupted from the earth and smashed them like insects... While I do admire this story and its writer, I must to say one thing - MSG(C?) universe has an awful amount of intense warfare for something that doesn't try to label itself as dark fantasy. |
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Malise said: While I do admire this story and its writer, I must to say one thing - MSG(C?) universe has an awful amount of intense warfare for something that doesn't try to label itself as dark fantasy. Tolkien isn't dark fantasy either, but there's plenty of intense warfare in Middle Earth. But in this case, it's useful to define "an awful amount." The civil wars in Charisse and Kaori are recent developments. Before that the last major wars on the island were the Dragon Wars abut 10,000 years ago. The wars started by Dendra are at least 2,000 years before that. Contrast this with the real world, in which there have been several major wars every century. At the rate currently portrayed the island is a good deal more peaceful than the world we live in. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
tygertyger said: But in this case, it's useful to define "an awful amount." The civil wars in Charisse and Kaori are recent developments. What I recall from the various stories, many flashback sequences, memories etc. often refer to some war in the past each with widely different background, most likely set in different time periods each and probably waged over different reasons, for example trade related one referenced in Emeraldtryst story or at least two separate conflicts in mdude009's story. Human uprising seems to be very common, they might not be counter as wars though. Perhaps better to drop the topic though, can be sensitive area. |
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| No need to drop the topic; there's no sensitivity on my part. I have no problems with discussion. :) On dark fantasy: I think that depends on the writer. I certainly don't write the setting that way, nor do Em or Pantsman or Kami. Beastie, OTOH, goes pretty dark in parts of his story, mdude's work is consistently darkly humorous, and Su's story contains the most horrific rape scene that I've ever read. And your own story? The only reason I don't call it dark fantasy is because I think it qualifies as horror. On war: As I mentioned in my previous post, there's actually not that much war in the setting's timeline. The truth is, if you go by the number of major wars, medieval Europe makes the island look positively idyllic. But we writers do tend to focus on the interesting parts of the setting, and that typically means an emphasis on conflict. So the few wars that occur in the setting will tend to loom large. It's also worth noting that the mentions of war in various stories tend to be multiple mentions of the same few wars. The Dragon Wars have come up in lots of stories, and several stories have used the recent civil wars as major plot points. The Flowering War (I just thought of that!) is a new addition that got added to the timeline with my latest chapter... and since this is Stylized, writers in Collaborative are under no obligation to regard it as canon. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| CHAPTER 7: BLACK SEAS OF THE INFINITY AMETHYST The following morning found us arrayed at the edge of the grass waiting for dawn. “Remember, eyes on the horizon,” said Meshara, “Do not look into the sky, or thou wilt regret it.” “That means you, Inez,” Katana said sternly. “I know, I heard her,” the harpy groused. Daphne shifted her feet and fussed with her weapons – patience was never her strong suit. “Any last minute advice before we go, elder?” The sarcastic tone in which she spoke the honorific escaped no one, but Meshara let it pass. “Thou knowest all that I had time to teach thee,” the dryad replied, “I say again only this; mind that thou art not caught in the city after nightfall. If that should happen thou risketh being lost in the Between.” Meshara’s nostrils flared as if she had caught a scent, but I smelled nothing. If my sister’s behavior was any indication her more sensitive nose was equally confounded. “The way will open in moments. Be ready.” We prepared ourselves to move quickly. The city blurred into existence all around us as the first fingers of daylight fastened on the horizon and pulled the Sun into view. When the vision stopped rippling a wave of floral scent washed over us, and we heard the bustling noises of a populous community. Katana barked out a command – “Move!” – and we leaped from Meshara’s little patch of grass into the sea of color that was Dendra. The jolt when our feet hit the ground was mild compared to the shock of sudden silence. The noises of the city did not just stop; it seemed as if something had snatched the sound away. The scents of various flowers likewise vanished to be replaced by an absence of odor that was itself somehow malodorous. We found ourselves about midway between the center and the edge of a circular patch of sand. Inez took a visual measurement of the space and said, “This is bigger than Meshara’s little patch.” Katana spun around slowly, noting both the sand on which we stood and the trees that rose up around us; we seemed to have landed in one of Dendra’s parks. “So it is,” she said, “Perhaps it contracted when she wrested it from the Between.” The wealth of plant life around us demanded that we pause and admire despite Meshara’s admonitions to haste. “This grove is quite pleasant… like that place our parents showed us, remember, Amethyst?” “You mean Honeymoon Grove?” I said, “That place has nothing on this.” Despite the strangeness the proliferation of flowers and fruit trees made this the most beautiful place to which I had ever been. If my parents had conceived me here, I thought, I doubt that we would ever have left. Daphne, who was never one to be swayed from duty, started forward. “We’re burning daylight, boss.” Katana sighed. “As much as I would like to stay and enjoy this place, I fear that you are right. Let us find our first target.” We spotted the carnelian-topped tower to which Meshara had directed us and started off. The going was easy once we cleared the grove. The narrow footpath opened onto a broad tree-lined street – and, just as in the vision, the cobblestones glittered. The wealth on which we trod would have fed Gray Gardens for years to come. That thought was no doubt the cause of the furrow in my sister’s brow. Jameelah was in altogether more jovial spirits. “We are on your street, Amy,” she said with a giggle. I looked down, and sure enough, the street on which we walked contained powdered amethysts. “Where we need to be is the Street of Rubies,” Katana reminded us, “Inez, take to the air. Meshara said that we would be alone in the city, but I want eyes in the sky anyway.” The harpy saluted and took off. “Daphne, take rear guard. I will take point.” We settled into our new marching order and resumed our trek. We walked for nearly an hour before the cobbles started sparkling in red. “This is the street,” said Katana, “Look for the tower with the black stone.” Daphne shook her head. “We’ll have to get pretty close to see a tower twenty paces tall past these trees.” “We will search behind every tree in Dendra if we must,” Katana declared. “We should probably start with those,” said Ana. She pointed to a stand of liana-draped cypresses off to our left. Jameelah raised her eyebrows. “All right, I will bite. Why those?” The ignis replied, “Because there is a heat source behind them.” Daphne and Katana went for their weapons, but Ana made a calming gesture. “Nothing alive – at least, I don’t think so. It isn’t moving, and it’s bigger than any desert animal should be. It’s cooler than blood temperature but warmer than the air.” Katana frowned. “Hmm. Jameelah may be our doctor, but I think a second opinion is in order.” She raised her hand and spun it in a wide circle. Inez soon landed among us in response to the signal. My sister pointed toward the trees in question and asked, “Inez, what did you see beyond those trees?” “A short tower like the one we’re looking for, surrounded by a moat,” the black harpy replied, “I can’t see a black stone, though; the trees are too thick and too close.” “It could be the right tower, but we will have to get closer to be sure,” I said. “Let’s do it, then,” said Daphne. She drew her sword and strode forward. “I’ll take point this time.” Katana did not object – rather, she drew her own sword and fell into step behind the lizardman. Jameelah and Ana followed, while I drew my knife and brought up the rear. Inez took off again to cover us from the air. We came out of the trees a mere six paces from the edge of the moat. There was no bridge, but the water was shallow enough to wade. The stone was a huge ebony cabochon with a diameter equal to Katana’s height including her ears. Its surface rippled like a sheen of oil on water, and it radiated a hum so low that it grated on the nerves rather than the ears. The totality of it gave the impression of great power and equally great unwholesomeness. “That’s definitely the source of the heat,” said Ana. A strange look came over Jameelah’s face. She walked into the water as if in a trance and stopped within arm’s reach of the stone. She extended a hand toward it, but she pulled it back even before Katana spoke. “Jameelah! Do not touch it!” “This is full of mana,” Jameelah said, “Enough to make sekha for a hundred clutches of khepri.” “You should have sensed that much energy from much further away,” I said. Jameelah shook her head. “This is very well insulated. The loss rate is so low that, even at this range, I would not be able to sense it if I could not see or touch it.” “In other words, the kind of loss rate one would want for something that is designed to store mana for decades or even centuries,” said Katana, “This is definitely our target. Ana, Jameelah, you may begin.” Jameelah backed out of the water to Ana’s side, and the two linked hands and began to chant in the Old Tongue. Nothing happened for nearly a minute, but then the swirling of the patterns in the stone quickened. The hum rose in pitch to become a soul-scratching whine, and waves of power like nauseating heat haze rolled across the moat. The chant heightened in speed and pitch, and the ignis and khepri both looked flushed. The stone flickered campfire-quick as the chant became a wail of ecstasy. Light flared from the girls’ linked hands, and a tongue of flame speared into the moat. The water instantly flashed into steam that obscured the tower. When the cloud cleared we saw the crack that bisected the stone from top to bottom. Ana and Jameelah slumped to the ground, hands still linked, and panted for three dozen heartbeats. I went over and checked them both. They had no visible injuries, but I did not like their color and liked the look of their eyes even less. Both girls’ pupils were contracted to pinpoints despite the gloom in the shadow of the trees, and they showed clear signs of arousal. The effect was uncomfortably similar to that of apophis venom. “They seem unharmed,” I pronounced, “But I do not think they should do this again for at least three hours.” “Agreed,” said Katana, “We will rest here for as long as needed before proceeding to the next target. Two for today should be enough.” Jameelah and Ana needed two hours before they were well enough to travel again. Jameelah spent the last half hour weaving a rather large and unusually complex sekha from the energy she had retained. “Ana must burn off some of this energy, too,” the khepri said, “She should probably fly with Inez instead of walking.” When we resumed our travels the ignis took to the air alongside the harpy. “Next stop, the Street of Sapphires,” said Katana. Jameelah giggled. “It seems that we will be visiting all of your little sisters. The sphinxes, anyway.” “Something tells me that the Street of Topaz will be the most ornate,” I said. “And the Street of Beryl will be the most airy,” Katana added. “The Street of Jade will probably be where the black market is,” said Daphne. “I keep telling you all, she did not steal that necklace!” Katana protested. “Oh, she most definitely stole that necklace,” I said, “Probably just to see if she could get away with it.” “Judging by the way the spanking the captain gave her, I’d say she didn’t,” said Daphne. A dreamy look stole over Jameelah’s face. “The captain can give me a spanking any time.” “Hey! That is my father you are talking about!” Katana protested. “He is not my father,” Jameelah replied. This banter lasted us until we reached a street where the cobbles sparkled in blue. Ana and Jameelah were back to normal by then, but that normal did not survive destroying the second stone. They needed three hours of rest afterward. With the two of them sweating like overworked horses – and my nose assured me that it was more like lovesweat than worksweat – we set out to return to where Meshara’s patch would be at sunset. We had covered most of the distance when we heard the howl. The sound pierced the air and lodged in the ears like a thrown spear. Katana frowned. “That was no wolf, nor even a jackal.” “Even if it was,” said Jameelah, “Did not Meshara say that there would be no animals here?” Her question seemed to be the trigger for a second – and noticeably closer – howl. “Maybe we should move a little faster,” said Daphne. The group’s response to that was to break into a jog. We had not even reached the next street when Ana swooped out of the sky to flit just above our heads. “I don’t know what that is, but I don’t like it,” she said, and pointed behind us. A glance over my shoulder revealed a mass of blackness and deep grays like an inverse cloud. It was easily a thousand paces behind us, but I could tell that it was gaining. “I have no desire to be caught in that,” I said. A chorus of howls from within the cloud elicited nods of agreement from my companions. By unspoken consensus we picked up the pace. Jameelah opened her wing-sheaths and broke into the leaping gait of which only insect mamono are capable. Katana and Daphne shifted to a loping pace that compromised between speed and endurance. I, unfortunately, had the most difficulty; sphinxes are fast, but we are sprinters rather than marathoners… and there was still quite a way to go before we reached the grove. Baying sounds erupted behind us and to the right. We of course veered left. More howls sounded from in front of us on the same side, so we turned left again. But when the spectral hounds called again from close on our right flank Daphne snapped, “Don’t turn! They’re herding us away from the grove!” Jameelah yelped as another howl sounded from almost close enough to touch. “Don’t turn? Do you want to be torn apart?” “Better that than an eternity of darkness,” said Katana. She accelerated to the front of the line and drew her sword without missing a step, then she made a show of turning right. Daphne’s teeth showed in a feral grin that no doubt mirrored my own. We drew our weapons and turned to follow our sharif. Jameelah, amid much grumbling, did likewise. The baying intensified as we ran toward it. We ran anyway. Nothing pounced at us from the blind alleys or the shadows of the trees, and part of me suspected that Katana somehow knew that it wouldn’t. The sound was still unnerving. I could smell the fear wafting off of Jameelah, and Daphne was beginning to look nervous, but Katana continued to run a straight course toward our destination. I felt the pressure as the wall of roiling darkness closed in on us, but I refused to look back. A yelp from Jameelah warned me of the pseudopods of darkness creeping up on either side and overtaking us. Before we knew it there were twin walls of shadow at our flanks. Katana signaled Inez and Ana down without stopping. “Go on ahead, don’t wait for us,” she shouted, “Jameelah, you too!” Inez took off hawk-quick, and Ana blasted away in a plume of fire. Jameelah leaped up to the nearest rooftop and bounded roof-to-roof past obstacles that Katana, Daphne, and I would have to go around. Despite my caution I could feel my endurance flagging. Katana and Daphne began to pull away, and the darkness around me grew closer. I could feel its hunger as cold fingers reached out to caress my legs and back. Rest, the darkness said, We will hold thee. I realized that the stitch in my side had grown into a dagger, and my steps faltered. My knees hit the ground hard, but numbness spread so quickly as the darkness washed over me that there was no time to feel pain. That came later when I saw shadowy tentacles reach out to enfold my sister and her soldier. The world became dark beyond black and quiet beyond silence, and two voices speaking in unison licked my ears with icy tongues as the night wrapped around me. Ours now, they said. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| Nice chapter. Seems Amethyst is in trouble, I eagerly await to read what will happen. Also rather curious about the architecture of the city. Somehow I keep imagining Dendra's architecture to be similar to Angkor Wat... Some questions: The party refers to Katana as the sharif, is that simply a title for the leader of a group, or is that due to her being the oldest child and thus the future sharif of the Grey Gardens when she succeeds her mother? And lastly is sekha such a ball of demonic energy that Khepri's tend to collect? |
MetallumOperatur said: I keep imagining Dendra's architecture to be similar to Angkor Wat... I kinda based it on Bablyon, so the older parts of Baghdad might be a better fit. The party refers to Katana as the sharif, is that simply a title for the leader of a group, or is that due to her being the oldest child and thus the future sharif of the Grey Gardens when she succeeds her mother? A bit of both, actually. is sekha such a ball of demonic energy that Khepri's tend to collect? Yes, indeed. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| CHAPTER 8: HIDDEN BEAUTY AND ECSTASY KATANA I felt the first glimmer of fear when the darkness swallowed my sister. Then the shadows reached out for Daphne and me, and I had no attention to spare for Amy’s plight. There was a brief moment when, wrapped in black tentacles, I had an inkling of what being a kraken’s plaything must be like. Then the darkness covered me and I lost all sensation except for a feeling of cold. I admit that it was… peaceful… on some level. I could not feel the street beneath me, the clothes on my body, nor even my body itself. There was only the silence, the darkness, and the cold. Even the fear slowly drained away to be replaced by calm lassitude. All thought of resistance faded with the last of my body heat, and I felt myself becoming one with the darkness. This is what the dead must feel, I thought. I closed my eyes – for all the difference that made – and prepared to surrender myself to the dark. And then there was light. Ana appeared between me and Daphne, and she burned brighter than I had ever seen before. The energy that she had absorbed from the mana stones flared into blue-white incandescence. She hovered there, clad in nothing but light and the glory of her own femininity, and offered herself to the world as a second Sun. Ancestors, she was beautiful. Twin screams of rage sounded in my mind as the darkness retreated before her. Sensation flooded back into me as awareness of the bruises from having fallen onto the cobbles. There was also searing heat where the cold had been; Ana’s light came at a price. “Hurry,” the ignis said, “I can’t keep this up for long.” I struggled to my feet – I would berate myself for my weakness at having fallen later – and helped Daphne up. Then each of us grabbed one of Amethyst’s arms and we carried her between us. Our progress wasn’t nearly rapid enough for comfort, but it was better than lying there waiting for the darkness to come back. By the time the patch of sand was in sight we had thawed out enough for our near-crippled shuffle to become a limp. I could also feel my hair crisping in the heat that Ana gave off. She hovered a few steps behind us, far enough away that we didn’t catch fire but close enough that the shadows couldn’t close in front of us, and lashed the darkness with whips of radiance. Inez and Jameelah rushed forward and took Amethyst, and then we all retreated to the presumed safety of the bare circle. “How long until sunset?” I croaked. “Any minute now,” said Inez. We had to wait quite a bit longer than a minute… at least, it felt like more. The darkness gathered at the edge of the circle waiting for Ana’s light to falter, but the ignis did not rest until the desert flooded back in around us. Ana collapsed onto the grass in an exhausted smolder while the rest of us heaved a collective sigh of relief. “Thou could have cut that a wee bit closer,” said Meshara. The sarcasm in her voice could have carved granite. Daphne flashed her don’t-mess-with-me smile. “Oh, I’m sorry. We were a tad bit busy running for our lives from a threat that some ‘wise woman’ told us wouldn’t even be there.” The dryad’s brow furrowed. “Running from… ?” “A cloud of darkness!” Inez yelled. “With tentacles! And baying hounds!” I have to say that seeing the color drain from Meshara’s face was most gratifying. “Oh, dear. They were not expected to appear so soon. Breaking the stones must have awakened them.” Jameelah took a moment to glare at the dryad as she tended to Amethyst. “Knowing before we went in that there was someone to awaken would have been nice.” “Indeed,” I snarled, “So much for, ‘thou knowest all that I had time to teach thee.’” “Ah… yes…” Meshara said, “There were a few points on which I was somewhat less than forthcoming.” “Time to correct that, I think,” said Daphne. Her tone made adding “Or else” quite unnecessary. “Quite so.” I sheathed my sword, put myself close enough to Meshara that we were breathing the same air, and gave her the smile that reminds everyone that yinepet are cousins to wolves. “Let us start with who it was that we awakened, and exactly what they can do.” Meshara deflated as the haughtiness left her. “Their names are Gizzal and Hilimaz. They are the queens of Dendra.” I nodded. “Sisters?” “Twins,” Meshara confirmed, “More than that, identical twins, and shared souls, as well.” “What are they? I mean, what species?” Meshara’s expression turned thoughtful. “I know not the word in thy dialect. In my time we called them narumine. That is a kind of plant-woman.” “Alraune, probably,” said Daphne, “But that cloud was a lot more mobile than you usually see from flowergirls.” “A casting that far-reaching requires at least master ability,” said Jameelah, “But I could not even guess which school of magic that was.” “They are both grandmasters of several schools,” said the dryad, “No one but them knows how many. What thou described sounds like a combination of aeromancy and necromancy.” My eyebrows shot skyward at this. “Combined magics? Is that even possible?” “Only for grandmasters of the Sixth Degree and above,” said Meshara. “So, Lords and wannabe Lords,” said Inez. Jameelah finished checking Amethyst and moved to tend Ana. She reached into her bag and pulled out a bottle of amber liquid. “It takes decades just to become a First Degree grandmaster,” said the khepri, “The Sixth Degree would take centuries.” “Perhaps not,” I mused, “My aunts Bahiti and Nefret are also shared souls, and both of them can play any song or instrument that either of them has learned. If Gizzal and Hilimaz can do that trick with magic, all they needed was enough time to become Third Degree grandmasters.” Meshara nodded in approval. “That would explain much. I am impressed, young one. Thou hast, in but a few minutes, solved a riddle that hath long confounded the scholars of Dendra.” “The scholars of Dendra did not have aunts who took turns attending music lessons,” I said. I turned to Jameelah and asked, “How are they?” “Ana is fine, just tired,” said the khepri, “I do not yet know the extent of Amethyst’s wounds – I fear that the damage is more metaphysical than physical.” “I will assist thee,” Meshara said, “For her condition can rightly be blamed on me. Besides, I would welcome the chance to learn thy ways of healing.” She reached up her hand, and Nuesh dropped a scattering of what looked like dried herbs into it. “Have her chew this.” At my narrowed eyes the dryad put a hand over her heart. “I swear that this medicine shall not harm her.” I stepped aside – my eyes no less narrow – and she proceeded to administer the medication. “Tell me, healer, what is that draught that thou gavest the elemental? I was given to understand that herbal medicines had no effect on them.” Jameelah looked to me before answering. I gave my permission with a curt nod. “It is lamp oil,” the khepri said. “Ah.” Meshara chuckled. “A simple solution. So simple that the erudite would never think of it.” Jameelah smiled. “Our doctor back home is anything but erudite, but she gets the job done.” Daphne flopped down on the grass and started cleaning her sword. “I’d like to hear more about those hounds that we heard but never saw.” “Oh, that is obvious,” I said, “Those were the Fangs of Dendra.” Meshara said, “Quite so. I did expect them to appear, but only as distant sounds. No doubt the awakening of the queens gave them more direction.” “No doubt.” I sat next to my sister and draped an arm over her shoulders – even unconscious, she might find my touch comforting. “You said the Fangs would be trapped in the Between until there was enough of the city back in this reality to guide them home. Destroying the towers was supposed to prevent this, was it not?” “It was.” The dryad grew thoughtful. “For them to make such a powerful apparition would require another anchor.” “Like your grove, maybe?” said Inez, “Or am I the only one who noticed that there are suddenly trees all around us?” I looked around, and sure enough the area of grass was much bigger and bordered by trees. “Where did all this come from?” I asked. “I did tell thee that I had anchored my grove to this spot…” Meshara said. “…but you did not tell us how big your grove was,” Jameelah finished. “Is it just this clearing and a few trees around it, or the whole park?” “The park entire,” the dryad confessed, “Plus the aquifer beneath it. Enough to sustain a small community if I can get the rain towers working again.” “So you intended to live here after you had seen to the destruction of Dendra,” I surmised. “Well… I did not plan on spinning off into the Between when the deed was done,” she said. “And you just assumed that the queens wouldn’t notice that bit of magic?” Daphne said. Meshara’s face paled as the verbal arrow struck home. The lizardman shook her head. “Mages. No sense of tactics. That’s why you’re mages and not generals.” I cursed in the Old Tongue as a new thought occurred to me. “If the Fangs are now anchored here, this is where they will emerge into the world. Right here in this grove.” “Not all at once,” said Meshara, “They will come through a few at a time. But the rift will grow larger with each use, allowing more with each subsequent passage.” “That would’ve been really good to know this morning,” said Inez. “I intended for thee to have destroyed all five stones before the rift was wide enough to admit any of them!” the dryad exclaimed. “But with the queens awake there will be Fangs stalking the streets of Dendra before thou hast destroyed the fifth.” I cursed again, and asked, “How long?” Meshara performed some mental calculation. “A day, perhaps two, before the first arrive. The pack entire, more than two-hundred strong, should come through within eight days.” Daphne whistled. “I don’t have enough arrows to kill two-hundred hounds, boss. We should probably get the city sealed off before we have that many to deal with.” “Agreed.” I turned to Meshara. “I take it that the original plan to destroy the stones is still on?” The dryad nodded. “Good. Tomorrow we go into Dendra as planned and destroy the third stone. Meshara, make us some dinner. Everyone else get some rest.” Inez raised a wing tip and asked, “Umm… what about the Hand? If the Fangs are coming out of the Between, won’t they be coming, too?” Meshara grinned evilly. “Worry not, child. Destroying the stones will deal with them.” I had a nasty suspicion about that, but I kept it to myself for now. I promised myself to discuss it with Amethyst when she was feeling better. “Meantime, I should get that dinner ready.” The dryad pulled a previously unnoticed basket out of Nuesh’s branches and went into the grove, no doubt in search of ingredients. Daphne gave her enough time to get out of earshot before speaking up. “Interesting how she can pull all that stuff out of those branches,” she said, “I wonder if she has any weapons in there.” “Almost certainly,” I replied, “I have heard that a dryad keeps an entire house inside her tree.” “I think she may be keeping secrets inside that tree,” said Jameelah. “For sure,” said Daphne. She cracked her knuckles and smiled. “So when do we start prying those secrets out of her?” “We do not,” I declared, “Meshara is our host, and we will be good guests as befits our station.” That got frowns from all three of my currently conscious companions. “But boss, we need a plan in case that tree hugger tries to double-cross…” “Enough!” I bellowed. “I will hear no more against our host! We will conduct ourselves as women of quality, and we will complete our mission without any unnecessary unpleasantness! Is that clear?” Daphne glared at me – I had never before raised my voice to her like this – but she grumbled assent. Inez and Jameelah merely nodded in shock. Dinner was a tense affair that was mainly conducted in silence. Daphne’s resentment was plain on her face, and Jameelah made no effort to hide how hurt she was. Inez gradually thawed as we prepared for bed – trust the scout to be the first to figure out what was going on – but she said nothing. She merely caught my eye and brushed the first joint of her wing, the one that served her as a hand, across her forehead… our sign for understanding. I left the girls to climb into their tents while I wrestled a still-sleeping Amethyst into ours. We had a busy day ahead of us tomorrow, but sleep eluded me. To a girl who had grown up with the constant song of a river the sound of wind through leaves seemed more ominous than comforting. When I finally drifted off my suspicions as to what the trees were whispering about followed me into my dreams. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
| The ending of the previous chapter was pretty dark, but luckily there is an Ignis to save the day ;-) Kinda curious as to why they actually agreed to help the Dryad with undoing Dendra? Can't imagine they're stone cold mercenaries who do anything as long as they're getting paid. Helping undo an entire city isn't something that one does lightly. Perhaps finding the city nearly deserted helps not thinking about the questionable morality of their actions. Also they would be entirely justified in letting Ahmose do the dirty work, it's her territory after all. The whole talk on magic mastery levels got me thinking: With the ages the Mamono can reach it is theoretically possible for them to have studied every single relevant book on a certain magic school, leaving them eventually in "uncharted territory" so to say. Which got me wondering whether there is some sort of organised research into magic, or if all "research" is done by unorganized self acting individuals? Who then might decide to write a tome on the results of their research or not. Also magic is supposed to be somewhat unpredictable, which raises questions on the reproducibility of the complexer spells, as well as the dangers because of either backfiring or undesired and unintentional side effects. Would there be some sort of upper limit where the magical research becomes too dangerous to proceed? (not that it would probably stop everyone, leading to their inevitable undoing) |
MetallumOperatur said: Also magic is supposed to be somewhat unpredictable, which raises questions on the reproducibility of the complexer spells, as well as the dangers because of either backfiring or undesired and unintentional side effects. Would there be some sort of upper limit where the magical research becomes too dangerous to proceed? (not that it would probably stop everyone, leading to their inevitable undoing) While I am not really enlighten to answer the question, according to my understanding I got from emeraldtryst's story, magical grimoires do exist, high level tier magic can backfire (it's main focus), but very old and very experienced mamono can mitigate the risks coming from those. (those who can count their ages in millennia Emeraldtryst stories) There are also standardized spells that actually have names and are known to those in the craft, instead of instinctive handling. According to Elisabeth Lord and Michiko Lord , there are actual universities for mages which in my opinion suggest both research and some level of spell transcription/standardization. Mages can over-text themselves and end bad, probably. It probably can cause the something like Chernobyl distaster with magic. So far there were few evemts,world still looks fine |
|
| Two excellent observations! I'll tackle them one at a time. MetallumOperatur said: magic is supposed to be somewhat unpredictable, which raises questions on the reproducibility of the complexer spells, as well as the dangers because of either backfiring or undesired and unintentional side effects. Which is why even powerful casters like the queens of Dendra have loopholes in their spells that allow for beings of far less power to defeat them. That's also why no spell is perfect; they all have energy requirements, material requirements, and time-to-cast requirements. Cutting corners or making substitutions can be disastrous. Malise said: According to Elisabeth Lord and Michiko Lord , there are actual universities for mages which in my opinion suggest both research and some level of spell transcription/standardization. Quite so. My stories assume -- though it doesn't appear onscreen -- that there was a good bit of magical education available in Charisse, too, but that it was actively restricted to those within the temple education system. BTW, for those who are wondering how the ranking system works, the degree is the number of schools of magic that a practitioner has mastered to the stated level. Thus, a Third Degree Master is a master of three schools. And the ranking system I'm using goes Apprentice, Adept, Master, Grandmaster. Malise said: Mages can over-text themselves and end bad, probably. It probably can cause the something like Chernobyl distaster with magic. So far there were few evemts,world still looks fine There is one possible magical disaster from which the island is still recovering; whatever created the Demon Gate. If that was the work of mamono it's a good bet that it wasn't intentional. |
| "When you have bought your own load of hooey, you know exactly what it is worth." -- Bruce Sterling |
tygertyger said: Malise said: According to Elisabeth Lord and Michiko Lord , there are actual universities for mages which in my opinion suggest both research and some level of spell transcription/standardization. Quite so. My stories assume -- though it doesn't appear onscreen -- that there was a good bit of magical education available in Charisse, too, but that it was actively restricted to those within the temple education system. Education in Magic isn't the same as organized systematic research. Even though our Universities provide usually both education and research, they do not necessarily have to provide both functions in the MSG world. The research on magic we encountered so far in the different stories, was mostly done by self acting individuals. Hence my question. tygertyger said: I was under the impression that the demon gate has been there for at least as far back as the lore goes. If I remember correctly Akuma (or Akama, whatever her name was again) was imprisoned/sealed underneath the demon gate, so that means it was already there during the Dragon Wars.There is one possible magical disaster from which the island is still recovering; whatever created the Demon Gate. If that was the work of mamono it's a good bet that it wasn't intentional. |
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