Zion: Light of the New Moon, Ch 4.1 Myrh
Zion - Light of the New Moon Chapter 4.1
Myrh Fallen From Grace
The contributing readers have all decided: this post will include a short focus on each of the pairings and give a little insight into all of the discussions.
If the battle against the undead in Ashlai had lamed the caravan, the encounter with the basilisks all but killed us... those were Yearl's thoughts, at least. With almost every combat-capable guardsman, yeoman, and able-bodied laborer injured, it left us with a limited supply of defense, and that bothered him a great deal.
"We don't have enough healers." he mumbled, pacing back and forth in our tent. Technically, I suppose it was HIS tent, but he told me that I wasn't able to leave his sight. Part of me wondered if maybe he was worried I'd consider plying my trade around camp, but that was thought purely out of humor; I realied he was concerned and didn't want me in any danger.
I looked up from the cloak I was mending with needle and thread, "Yearl... you're going to wear a ditch in the ground if you don't calm down."
He let out a heavy sigh and walked over to his cot, flopping down onto it with a grunt, "We're not in the condition we need to be in, Thera." he stated, as if talking to one of his military advisors. On one paw, it felt good to be addressed with such trust and forwardness, but, I realized, that I was way in over my head if he was going to be seeking council from me on matters of defending the wagons.
"Maybe there's someone we could talk to about it." I offered, "Someone who could help, maybe?"
"I'm just complaining." Yearl waved the thought away, "It's nothing."
"I'm just trying to help, Yearl. You men and your unwillingness to ask for aid." I chided, setting aside my sewing.
"I suppose I could take it up with Priestess Fanewatcher..." he shrugged; the comment struck me immediately.
Even with my eagerness to redirect his target for assistance, I carefully measured my next words, stating calmly and casually, "No... she's busy, I'm sure."
"I suppose so..." he nodded again, "she's overseeing the healing. It would be counter-productive to interrupt her."
"Exactly." I confirmed, standing up. I walked over to where he reclined on the cot, and took a seat on his thigh, "What about the quiet man in black?"
"Why does Anya bother you so much?" he asked abruptly, catching me by surprise. I should have known better; Yearl was never one to be easily manipulated.
Truth has many levels, and I decided to start with the top one, "She scares me." I admitted.
"She makes a lot of people uneasy." he acknowledged, "But there's more to it, isn't there?"
Once again, he was not about to fall for a simple ruse like half-truths, "She has ulterior motives." I added.
"Everyone does." he acknowledged, "You know that as well as I do..." he reached over and grabbed hold of me by the wrist, "what is this really about, Thera?"
I sighed, deciding to offer my last bit of resistance before coming clean. "It's probably nothing... but there are a few things I heard her say that make me question her motives." It was the complete and total truth, I just omitted the specifics of what I heard her say. To be honest, I didn't know the significance of the jackal's words and I wasn't sure what to make of them at that point... but I knew that she hadn't meant for anyone to hear them, and spreading them could have been dangerous.
"Alright." he nodded, easing his grip on my paw, "Just know that you can tell me when you're ready." Yearl did not press for the information... he did not encourage me to talk or demand to get answers... he just left it at that.
"Thank you." I noted.
"You're welcome." he responded, without even needing to ask why. We shared a soft kiss, "I thought of something you could do that would help." he murmured. The words sent a little shiver up my spine and my paw slowly slid down his abdomen to his trousers. He chuckled, grabbing my wrist, "Yes, that too... but something a little more pressing first."
"What could be more pressing?" I offered in my best lady-of-the-night tone.
"I need to find out how our wounded are doing." he answered, not rising to the humor.
"And I'm your messenger now?" I countered with a smile.
"Well..." he answered, smiling back, "You DID say you wanted to help."
"You are a wicked, wicked man, Yearl Rakken." I countered, but relented. Despite my flirty demeanor, I really was worried about his mental well being, and relented the point. If knowing how well the injured were healing would make him feel better then it was a simple task I would be happy to do.
Having to choose between seeing Brother Farstrider and Priestess Fanewatcher, the choice was pretty simple. After a goodbye kiss to my lion, I went to the wolf's carriage where I saw Beo seated on a crate outside the door. "Everything alright, Magus Kyr?" I inquired, offering a faint curtsy. Despite my preliminary fears of being around him, once the need for my illusions were gone I was finally able to enjoy his upbeat, positive, friendly attitude.
"Go away." he stated flatly. Well... it wasn't upbeat, positive, and friendly at that moment, considering the injuries everyone had sustained, and the vigil he was watching at the Farstrider carriage obviously hinted at his concern for Jerard.
"I'm here to check in on the patient." I noted amicably.
"There isn't any change." Beo noted, crossing his arms, "Brother Farstrider said he'd get me when there was."
"If that's the case, then why are you waiting around here?" I asked, "You could be getting some rest."
"It's called courtesy." he replied snidely, "This way he won't have to go all the way across camp to find me."
"Ah yes..." I noted simply, "how silly of me." and I slipped by the black-furred husky and ascended the three hanging steps to the carriage door, "Brother Farstrider?" I called, and knocked on the door.
"Come in." the calm voice called from within, and I slowly opened the door, mindful to make certain there wasn't anyone or anything in the way of its arc. "I'm busy at the moment, but I'll be with you in a--" he said, glancing over his shoulder before he stopped, mid sentence, "Ah... the elusive heroine of Ashlai." he smiled in a friendly manner, and it left me feeling much more welcome than Beo had.
"I didn't really do anything... Artemisia--" I tried to object, but he spoke over me.
"Everybody has a part to play, madam, and without you fulfilling yours we would not still be here... so, that makes you worth thanking." he inclined his head, then looked back to the collection of furs, blankets, and linens gathered on the cot in front of him.
I have to admit that my curiosity got the better of me, and I invited myself over before he could, "Captain Rakken asked me to see how everyone was doing..." I provided my credentials.
"He'll live, if that's what the Captain is concerned about." Brother Farstrider confirmed, "The Goddess has given him her favor, and he has a strong heart... both are an excellent combination for survival."
"That's good to hear." I smiled, "and I'm sure the Captain will be happy to hear it as well."
"Speaking of people happy to hear good news, is the black husky still outside?" the priest inquired.
"He may start growing moss soon." I smiled, "I don't think he's going anywhere."
"Hmm..." the priest nodded thoughtfully, "They are quite fond of one another."
"I came to the same conclusion." I acknowledged.
"Yes... well this one's subconscious is awash with words, promises, warnings, vows, and any number of other tidbits of personal dialogue." Priest Farstrider noted, taking a damp cloth from the human's forehead before exchanging it with a fresh one.
"Oh, the many secrets priests become privy to." I smiled.
"You had a few of your own, madam." he pointed out, then laughed when I froze up, "I let them flow out of my mind as nonsensically as they flow into it... don't you worry." his tail wagged casually, "These whispers are as much imagination as they are reality and I pay them no mind."
"You are a fine priest, Brother Farstrider." I acknowledged, feeling, for some reason, that I really did have no reason to worry about what the wolf might know; he actually felt genuine.
"So I'm told." he smiled, looking back to his patient, "But I never tire hearing it." his tail continued to flow from side to side, "Good evening, Madam."
"Good evening, Brother." I acknowledged, finding my own way out of the carriage.
"So?" Beo was right at the steps waiting for me when I came out.
"He's going to be fine... the Brother says he just needs some rest." I took a moment to look the black husky over, and didn't miss the bandages mostly covered by his loose clothing, "Which brings us to you."
"There's nothing wrong with me." the magus objected... right until he yelped when I poked him in the shoulder, and followed it up with a growl, "What was that for?"
"You should be resting... you're wounded." I stated.
"It was a rock wound... some jagged piece of something-stoney jabbed me when I got crushed by that basilisk's tail." he huffed dejectedly.
"You make it sound like it's just another day in your life." I bemused.
"I'm not all that worried about all that... I just hate it when a perfectly good evening is interrupted by a bunch of six legged draconids."
"You have a funny way of looking at the world," I noted, making my way past the husky, "But don't lose it... I've seen many men in life obsess over the small things-- meeting someone who doesn't let the specifics get in the way of living is a fresh change of pace for me."
"Glad to be so entertaining." the husky sat back down with a scowl, angrily jabbing his finger at the air, creating little sparks and tracers, forming some kind of picture. Unable to put off a visit to Anya's quarters any longer, I left the magus to his drawing which, I realized as I turned away, appeared to be some kind of lewd stick-figure picture.
I approached Anya's all-black pavilion, stopping at the entrance. Taking a deep breath, I just summoned up enough courage to tap claws against the canvas when the flap opened up before me, and I stood face to face with the priestess. "Um... Priestess Fanewatcher, I--"
"You're right on time, Thera Vaan." the jackal spoke to me, her all-black eyes gazing straight at me, the eerie reflection of the sickle moon creating the faint impression of a silver iris... but not quite. With nothing more to be said, Anya slid back into her tent, her thin tail whipping the canvas flap to accentuate her next point, "Do come in."
I slowly followed her into the dimly lit, cavern-like pavilion. The entire setup was far more basic than I had expected; aside from a few decoratively hung sheets of silk, the only accouterments were a simple chest and a large bed; at the time, almost two thirds of the latter was taken up by the large form of Artemisia... the dragoness who I'd come to understand was the Demon of Ashlai. Although the inside of the tent was almost pitch black, a single gray candle burning on a stand beside the bed gave me the view of Artemisia.
Seeing her unmoving on the bed was unnerving... almost as much as the fact that she was practically naked, save for several strips of linen tied around her to keep the bleeding to a minimum. Two broad strips of black silk were laid across her, one at chest level, and one across her hips. Despite the eeriness of the situation, I had to admit the affect was quite fetching, and promised myself that I'd remember the pose and props for future reference.
"Yes..." Anya spoke up, answering an unasked question, "You may let Yearl know that she survived, and is expected to make a full recovery."
"That's a good thing." I answered, hoping to get a better read of the priestess' emotions; as usual she said everything without any change in tone, and it was almost impossible to tell if she was pleased that Artemisia would live or not.
"Indeed it is." she confirmed.
"Well then..." I noted, stepping from foot to foot uncomfortably, "I suppose I'll go tell--"
"Oh, before you do..." the priestess spoke up, and her words froze me in place. She made her way over to me, a bundled-up collection of cloth in her paws. When she drew closer I recognized the robe immediately; she had been wearing it when the caravan faced the basilisks.
"Y-yes, Priestess?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even.
"I know you are thankful that Artemisia is alive as well." she rested a paw on my shoulder. It should have been a comforting type of gesture, but from her it felt like the foreboding promise of doom.
"Of course I am... she is a fine warrior." I offered.
"I was in reference to the connection you share with her." the jackal smiled... but it was without emotion. It certainly wasn't without a certain element of fear induction though.
"The... connection?" I asked. Did she know about it?
"I know many things." the priestess spoke, as if reading my mind, "And... since you and I are sharing a few secrets... I'd like you to have this." and, with that, she opened the folded cloth, revealing the enormous tail ring she had taken from the slain basilisk, "I know you had your eyes on it earlier."
"Why me?" I hesitated, keeping my paws at my sides.
"Because, Thera Vaan... we are sisters in understanding, you and I. We have more in common than you might imagine."
"I doubt that." the words escaped my muzzle before I could quiet them.
Anya's laugh scared me more than any prior one had... it almost sounded like there was real humor within it. "Here..." her paw on my shoulder spun me around, and then grabbed my tail in a vice-like grip, "Let's see how it looks on you."
I felt my heart beating a mile a minute as the cold metal of the ring closed around my tail. It was far too large, and I was just about to mention it when, to my surprise, the ring slowly contracted, shrinking until it felt snug, but not tight. "It's lovely." she whispered into my ear.
"I... don't know what to say." I answered.
"Then you don't have to say anything." the priestess' chuckle was once again flat, "But, while we're on the topic of secrets, and, based on the lack of understanding you have regarding the history Lady Artemisia and I share... perhaps I could enlighten you."
"You really don't have t--" I went to pull away, but her vice-like grip remained on me.
"When life force changes from one being to another, sometimes visions... memories... glimpses of a psyche or personality shine through. If the moment is one of heightened emotional significance, then it can be even more pronounced... both in the likelihood of being transferred, and in the clarity of the vision." the priestess stated, her voice still a whisper.
"Is... that what this is about?" I asked, "The connection she and I share?"
felt far less warm than it should have been.
The darkness of the tent around me grew fuzzy with a strange fog, and I swore I could hear faint voices, speaking as if from another place or time. One of the voices was familiar. "Do you know how the most powerful priests and priestesses of Myrh gain their ability to alter the flow of life and death, Thera Vaan?"
I shook my head, unable to answer as I continued hearing the voices. At one time they sounded nearer, but the harder I strained to hear the further away they went. One voice, I realized, was Artemisia's... but the other I couldn't tell.
"Artemisia gained her power from a ferret who never made it as a priest... it was stolen power given to an untrained initiate." Anya spoke.
"Did she tell you this?" I asked, finding it hard to believe that anyone would confide in the priestess.
"No..." Anya answered, slowly pulling away and releasing my arm, "He did."
I turned and looked back at the jackal, trying to understand what game she was playing. The voices were a little clearer... one voice was male... it sounded like it was in pain. I could hear the sound of his heart beat... FEEL the flow of his life ebbing away in my own veins, "He..." I paused, "he gave her his power when he died." I realized.
"Yes... he did." Anya nodded.
"Then how could he have told you? When could he have told you?" I asked. It made no sense.
"Many years ago." the jackal noted, "I was much younger, of course." her black-as-night eyes continued gazing at me... the only way I could see them in the darkness was because the reflection of the sickle moon still shone in them despite the fact that it did not shine through the pavilion's canopy, "I was in the grave yard... and I was trapped in a mausoleum..."
I took another step away from her, backing away, unable to look anywhere but at her, "Then he....?"
"He was not alive when we spoke." the priestess noted, one of her ears turning ever-so-faintly, the first change in her expression I had seen that seemed anything close to involuntary. "He told me things... he... showed me things..." I could see her paws quivering faintly, and I finally recognized the blank expression on her face for what it really was.
"He did things to you..." I whispered.
"Many things... and more." she answered, her voice as crystal clear as it had always been, despite her body's quivering, "And that is when I learned about Artemisia, the Demon of Ashlai... though she still had yet to earn that title during the time Justin knew her."
When she spoke the name, a thousand flashes of images flew through my head. There were feelings of camaraderie... acceptance... a feeling of belonging. Other emotions, perhaps? They were too hard to make out with the speed at which they came at me... but the final one I saw was of an unmoving ferret laying lifeless in the mud, a crossbow quarrel sticking out of his chest, but a strange, serene smile on his muzzle.
"when life transfers from one being to another, sometimes more than energy is shared." she whispered... but I didn't wait for her to say anything else... I ran. I ran out of her tent, trying to escape the feelings and thoughts and images she had stirred up in me... things that connected her to me through the undead ferret that had done something to change her for life... through his last-living connection to Artemisia... and through the dragoness to me. It was that very same connection that carried the priestess' disembodied words to me, "Be careful of what secrets you choose to share, Thera Vaan... not all will bring comfort in their telling..."
* * * * * *
The Myrhean Caravan is still suffering heavily from wounds sustained during the last two encounters. Having decided it would be best to have their warriors recover before the next deadly engagement, Captain Rakken relies on Thera to help him get reports on the status of the troops. She finds, perhaps, more than she bargained for.
Any contributing reader that wishes to spend a willpower may be the central focus of the next post. In the event of multiple characters expending willpower, the one who uses it first will earn the right, unless whomever else that wants the focus is willing to spend more.
Contributing readers may also spend a willpower point at this time to further develop character relationships.
You have until Thursday August 4th to make your vote and willpower utilization (if applicable). Midnght (PST) as usual