A Reunion Amidst the Mire (closed to Karuka)

[Storm Veritas]

(Following the “Might of Moxie”; Closed to Karuka/Taische)

The jungle had not been kind to him, but then Dhethain in general was unpleasant. He had spent too much time already here in the Fiorair rainforest, and had plenty of days walk left to the city of Talmhaidh.

Storm was making slow pace through the forests, and as the trees grew, it became more and more difficult to navigate. It is certainly hard to follow the track of the sun in the land of constant shade, although tiny fragments of light spilled through the tree cover enough to give him a basic understanding of north. The swamp had to be close. Three long days walk with only a cask of mead, and a few dead snakes to eat felt like a month.

Why couldn’t the gods just gift me with f*cking flight? Hell of a lot of good the bolts do me down here.

His stomach screamed at him, but at least he had managed to seal the wound. Tobias Stalt had tried to help him, but was too small to carry the tall magician to safety. It was still an act of kindness, if an ineffective one. There weren’t many in all the six lands that Storm owed favors to, so adding one more would be an easy enough task. That is, should he ever escape this godforsaken isle.

Ahead of him, he saw a break in the tree line. A mucky oasis, the jungle was yielding to the swamp lands in a small clearing, a perverse coastline of tall grasses and cattails springing from water that was very likely beast-ridden.

As good a place to hunt, eat, and sleep as any.

With a smile, he dipped his hand in the edge of the water, expecting an exploratory bite. When nothing came, it was a mix of relief and fear, since his stomach yearned for both medical care and food. No matter; a deep breath and Storm clenched his fist, sending a large pulse of electric energy through the water. Two small hideous brown fish and one fat frog floated belly-up to the surface.

Gonna have to cook the shit out of these ugly bastards to keep away a case of the trots.

Within a few minutes he had a small fire going and three carcasses turning on a spit a few inches above. Dinner was served.

[Karuka]

The wind had been blowing from the north for several days, pressing encouragingly at the backs of a tall, slender woman and her child.

When Karuka's feet stepped into the rich swamps of Fiorair for the first time in nearly a decade, an old scar on her belly tingled and a wave of warmth flooded into her body. Though she'd wandered far around the wide world of Althanas, this... this was home. She was bound to it, part of it, and it embraced her like a sister. The little waif beside her had paused too, eyes widening with wonder. Though this was the first time in her little life to meet the jungles, they were her home, too, and she could hear them singing.

Taische looked up at the phoenix on her mother's shoulder. "Do you feel it too, Ta?" The bird couldn't speak to her, but he kakked at her happily.

"Taodoine wasn't more'n a few weeks old th' last time I was here, wee bit. An' you weren't so much as a glimmer in my eye. It's wonderful though, isn't it?"

The little girl nodded, taking a few more steps into the jungle, followed closely by her mother. Just because it was home didn't mean it was safe, after all. "It's about time t' look fer a place t' settle in fer th' night. Gettin' late, an' Tao and I still need t' hunt. Where d' y' think we should go, wee bit?"

The little girl frowned, digging her toes into the loam and feeling with all her might. When she felt like she had a spot, she grinned up at her mother, shoving her thick black hair out of her face. "Over there!" She pointed and started to sprint, bounding through the thick ferns and leaf litter like there was nothing in her path.

And so it was that a small brown child crashed through into a strange man's camp, where she stopped short, utterly surprised.

Her mother stepped through a moment later, the same tall, golden-skinned redhead she'd been in Fallien several years earlier... just more mature. Her eyes widened, first in recognition, then in concern.

"Storm. What happened t' you?!"

[Storm Veritas]

It was easy to understand why frogs’ legs are considered a delicacy. Lean, sinewy, and just the right amount chewiness; they carried a light, pleasant flavor. Better still, when cooked the skin developed a crispy texture that made them absolutely perfect.

The rest of the frog, on the other hand, was an abortion of food. Storm forced down the rest of the terrible frog, along with the two salty fish which were slimy, grisly, and authentically horrific.

Tastes like I want my stomach to just leap through the wound. Absolutely –brutal-. Maybe that big, stony asshole should have just finished me off…

The sun was starting to fade out as he propped his back against the tree, hoping to nap or sleep or rest as long as his body would allow. His ass was wet in the swampy mud, and his core screamed at him, but fatigue was overwhelming. He began to nod, his stomach burning from the inside and skin slowly healing on the outside. Just before the early evening took him, an unmistakable voice rang through the humid air.

"Storm. What happened t' you?!"

He lurched forward hard enough to hurt his stomach. Had he poisoned himself? Was he hallucinating?

What… in… the… actual… f*ck?

His head craned to the side, rolling curiously to understand what lies his ears and eyes had to be telling him. A bemused smile crawled across his face as he considered the beautiful redhead alongside an adorable little girl. She looked like his old love Karuka; perhaps the only woman on Althanas he’d hope to avoid in this state. The only woman whom he would actually feel a sense of embarrassment before.

…Impossible.

“You… What did you say? Stay back, ladies, if you want to stay whole.”

A sneer; he managed to stand and snapped open his right hand, bursting to light with electric energy.

“It’s a vile witch to play a trick on a man out here. You could have taken me in my sleep, but that ship has sailed. Move on, sweetie… Let’s not make today your last.”

[Karuka]

Taische looked up at her mother, eyes wide and uncertain. Her hands came up warily, but she didn't know what she was supposed to do here. Taodoine crouched on his master's shoulder, talons digging into the vlince of her shirt, wings stretched a little and ready to launch. He let out a warning hiss.

"Taodoine, éasca." The bird grumbled, but flapped to the nearest branch to be a mere observer. Karuka nudged her daughter behind her, and though both of their feet were bare and covered with muck, neither seemed to have trouble navigating the swamp. The redhead leveled her spear just a little bit, in case she couldn't talk some reason into Storm. The electricity within it snapped in response to the lightning in Storm's hand, crackling up and down the prevalida point. If he decided to let his attack fly with all his power, she'd still feel it, but not the whole brunt.

"Taische, má ionsaithe sé, cnag air amach," she instructed. "Má." If he attacks, knock him out. If.

The child nodded, never taking her eyes from the thin man's hand. "Beidh mé, máthair."

Instructions given and acknowledged, Karuka turned her words back to her old lover. "I thought y' were ay sorry t' have zapped me th' last time, Storm. Now, yer not in any sort of state t' be jumpin' up an' threatenin' t' kill an old friend. Fer one thing, y've prob'ly got enough of a fever t' not have any idea where yer aimin'. Fer another, if y' try, I'll come on over there an' make y' sit still, b'fore yer body decides it's just had enough o' yer nonsense an' takes y' down on its own."

Her free hand moved slowly to her neck, grasping a jade charm and pulling the necklace that it hung on off. A flick of her wrist sent it flying through the muggy air to him. Though it had been a very long time since he'd given it to her, she was sure he'd recognize it. "I'm real enough. D'y' not remember?" Did he not remember, her voice seemed to ask, the long, hot camel ride to Irrakam, did he not remember running through the cold desert night after a young redhead with more temper than sense? Did he not remember the night in his room, after he'd found her again?

"Breathe, Storm. I can help y'."

[Storm Veritas]

If it was a witch that approached, alongside the small girl and the large orange bird, the witch had done her homework. The beauty and the grace could be duplicated easily enough, he surmised, but the second language was altogether different.

That crazy jibber-jabber language… so far from common tongue… it HAS to be her. How?

Storm slowly allowed the energy to fade from his fingertips, reapplying a small buzz to his still-healing wound. This was it; he’d have to lay faith to the fates. If this couple of strangers were aggressive, they’d picked the perfect time to attack.

His eyes studied the duo as he remained speechless, soaking in the words of the elegant Karuka, alongside a small, delicate girl that joined her. The girl appeared young, and healthy; the type of simple-skinny that seems impossible as we age. Her hair was also black with a few red highlights – the black of which caught his attention immediately.

…uh oh.

No, one impossibility at a time. He couldn’t overreact just yet, drawing conclusions was dangerous. First things first; he lifted his arms to welcome an embrace.

“Karuka… is that… could that… Holy shit, tell me it’s really you!?”

Skepticism still lingered in him, as she looked up and (hopefully) considered meeting his embrace. Was it possible that here, at the edge of humanity, he had found one of the few friends he could trust? Before she could move towards him, Storm nearly bit through his lower lip, hiding the pain she could obviously sense.

“Tell me…” he began, speaking deliberately. “It’s been YEARS. Did you ever get to Alerar, like you mentioned? Did you ever sell off that ice orb we found?”

It was a simple, straightforward test. He had to be sure. This wasn’t the same weak rookie he had traveled with so long ago, but he was nearly convinced it could be no one else.

[Karuka]

Karuka raised an eyebrow, eyes narrowing a little so she could scrutinize Storm. It was definitely him; his aura shone brighter in her True Sight than any ghost or illusion could, and no shapeshifter could duplicate the unique way he crackled. He also had a nasty black gash across his stomach. Well, that would be the death of him if it wasn’t treated properly very soon. If he was doing badly enough, that could explain why he had the details of how they met wrong.

Or he was testing her. The redhead had no illusions as to the intelligence of the people she met compared to her – most of them were far smarter. Many of them were far cannier. Few of them could call upon their environments to do her harm, fewer had more command over it than she did, and fewer still could successfully get the drop on her.

“I don’t r’member tellin’ you anything about Alerar. It’s a mis’rable land an’ I don’t intend t’ go back if ever I can help it. An’ we didn’t find any such orb. It was a wee fire egg, an’ that’s where I got him.” She nodded to the phoenix who still crouched above their heads, watching closely. “An’ no, b’fore y’ ask, she’s not yours. Would that she were, but she’s not.”

She closed the distance between them, moving through the throngs of swarming insects to meet his arms…gently. “C’mon, y’ great, silly man. Let’s getcha t’ someplace higher up an’ take a proper look at that.” Her right hand gripped his wrist and her left arm slid around his waist; he wasn’t being allowed to argue. “Taische, go on ahead a few yards. I’ve got t’ help yer Uncle Storm so he doesn’t kill ‘imself tryin’ t’ move.”

At her mother’s words, the child bounded from her semi-concealed position in the foliage. She took a moment to kick out Storm’s fire and take her mother’s spear, then scrambled up a small, muddy ledge to get to a more sheltered space between the broad roots of some ancient trees. The phoenix chattered, then flew after the child. Karuka could take care of herself, but that wasn’t always the case with her daughter.

The woman maneuvered Storm delicately through the muck, pausing once to pull a little bit of lichen from one of the trees. “Chew this. It tastes awful, but it’ll help t’ numb th’ pain. Y’ look like hell. What happened?”

A warm light sputtered into being ahead of them, sending a sweet fragrance wafting on the slow breeze – the little girl was wasting no time setting up camp and dealing with the overwhelming numbers of insects that Fiorair had to offer.

[Storm Veritas]

A crazed, manic smile came across him when she rightly corrected him. Only Karuka would know that they had never adventured in Alerar, and that it was a fire orb that they had secured. It wasn’t valuable enough to be famous, but too useful to be forgotten. The young girl hopped off and about to stomp out his fire; it seemed like the wrong move but he was in no position to argue.

Aside from them, the big red bird swooped smoothly to another branch on a tree just a few feet from them. Its feathers seemed to flicker as it soared; Storm considered that he might have already died and was enjoying some ethereal hallucination.

As the redheaded vixen extended her hand to help him, Storm considered that there would be far worse ends; particularly poor deaths which he deserved. He happily took her hand as she led him to the shelf of slightly drier earth.

“Karuka, my girl, you are a sight for sore eyes.” He was guided, soothed, like a boy; never more helpless outside of a fight. It had been years, and yet his edge faded from him like a blade left out in the rain. Her charm was as lethal as her magic.

Of course, her painkiller still tastes like a sautéed skunk’s asshole.

He grimaced and swallowed, craving the swamp frog remnants that he found so terrible minutes ago. Here, now, chewing the fungal formula provided, that cooked croaker was ambrosia.

Get over it.

Storm pulled at his shirt-tail out as he sat down, lifting his blood-stained dress shirt and displaying his fetid wound. As he saw it, he felt the pain blossom wildly and his concentration waver. He hadn’t forced himself to look hard at his splayed belly, and things were coming along worse than he expected. The wound, nearly a foot long traveling from right ribcage to left oblique, was seared black from his electric flame cauterization. Peeking out from either side, running the length of the tear was a deep red mark. It was the clear cause of his favor.

“Shit… infected. Looks bad. Tried to seal the sonofabitch up right away; must have been too late. I was down in the tomb, looking for an easy score and strolled right into a trap. Big rock bastard popped up… nothing nice. It’s gone, now… and all I got was this stupid blood-stained shirt.”

He laughed at himself, bemused by the reference Karuka would never understand. His left hand also instinctively felt through his left hip pocket for the ring he had found, tracing over the small hard bulge to ensure the ring was still safe.

“Do you have any medicine? I don’t know what works for shit down here. I could reopen it and burn it over again, but would probably pass out long before I can seal the whole thing. If I make a fresh fire, can you cauterize me after I go down?”

Flipping out one of his prized daggers, Storm held it in front of his face as he immediately electric-burned the blade again. It would have to be sterilized before he dared to slash away at the scabbed-over wound. This was going to be very ugly work. He was glad the girl was out of sight; this wouldn’t be work for the faint of heart.

[Karuka]

Karuka was already taking things out of her bag as he spoke - a jar of some blue stuff, a mostly-full canteen that sloshed invitingly, a needle and thread, a knife, some clean rags. She poked at the wound, unapologetic at his pained grunt.

"Stop th' dramatics with th' 'fresh fire' an' 'reopenin' th' wound.' Fer one thing, Taische's got th' fire handled. Fer another, yer not reopenin' this. Lucky fer you, I have a healing spell, I have liviol balm, an' I trained t' be my clan's cunnin' woman from th' time I was younger than my daughter is now until just about a year b'fore we first met. I know 'what works fer shit' out here. I'm going t' open this a wee bit t' drain the infection, it's going t' hurt a lot, but I'll heal y' up an' you'll be right as rain in th' mornin'. Put yer dagger away."

He blinked, but obeyed. This was a side of Karuka he hadn't seen before. They hadn't needed him to see it before.

While he was musing, she'd already opened the flask and started soaking the needle and thread in a bitter liquid that was obviously alcohol, then poured liberal amounts on the lowest section of his wound, her hands and her knife. "Just so y' know, cauterizin' wounds can also lead t' infection, if y' don't take care of th' burn right. It's damn hard t' take care of a burn out here where it's humid. Come t' think of it, how long since yer boots were off? Gotta air out yer feet if y' don't want 'em t' rot. Lean back a little, Storm, so yer restin' against that tree, there, an' spit out th' moss. Taische!"

The little girl popped up from the brush, cradling an armful of firewood. She quickly set it down and went over to her mother, who held up her hands. "If y' please, wee bit."

Tiny, dark brown hands slid beneath larger, golden brown hands. Flame flashed, burning up the alcohol on Karuka's hands. The elder's lips tightened at the brief, tingling burn, but it was the best way to keep infection out of the wound. Even if she was healing it right up, there was absolutely no call to make a sloppy job of it. "Good lass. Give yer uncle a good swig of what's in th' canteen - don't smell it! Y' won't be gettin' any of that fer nigh a decade, now."

The scotch hit Storm's tongue, then his throat, bitter, burning, beautiful. The child was more generous with it than any barkeep would have been, and the the first good drink he'd had in days did more to revitalize him than a dozen frog's legs would have.

"Light, please, Taische."

The girl knelt on the other side of the pale, skinny man from her mother, trying to keep out of the way. Her tiny fists clenched just inches from his belly and a bright, barely-warm flame roared to life on her hands. Karuka hadn't been kidding about her daughter having the fire taken care of. She also wasn't even trying to hide the surgery from her. The newly-sterile knife slid into the swollen red and yellow wound, opening a cut barely an inch long and less than a quarter inch deep. Green ooze, rank with the scents of long-dead fish and rotting meat, immediately started flowing from the incision.

"Gyah!" Taische pulled back, face wrinkling. That was gross.

"Hold yer bile, wee bit. I need th' light. Y'll see worse'n this b'fore y' hit yer teenage years, I'd lay good odds." The redhead was using one rag to catch the pus, and another to push it from the top of the wound out to the bottom. It would be slow going; the wound was large and had been festering for days. There was nothing soft about Karuka at that moment. Her daughter's disgust, her old lover's pain, she couldn't afford mercy for either of them. There was a life at stake, after all. The moment would pass; death was permanent.

Several minutes passed, the child struggling not to breathe and the man struggling not to scream, but at last the infection was out to Karuka's satisfaction. She wiped her hands clean and tossed the rags aside to burn, then washed them with alcohol again and reached for her needle and thread. She made a few small, neat stitches, then covered the entire black burn with a tingling blue balm. Finally, she touched the middle of the scar with a gentle fingertip. Her blue eyes glowed gold, and slowly she etched a shape onto the still-tender flesh. A stylized B, a pair of interlocking wedges.

Immediately, some of the pain dissipated, and Karuka kissed his cheek and Taische's head. "There y' go. See if y' even feel it in th' mornin'. Good job, wee bit. Take care of th' fire an' water, keep an eye on him, here. Taodoine an' I'll be back soon with some food."

She grabbed a falconer's gauntlet from her pack, snatched her spear up from where her daughter had rested it, called her bird, and vanished into the forest like a faerie out of myth.

Taische pouted, striking at the pustulent rags with a burst of flame then pulling an empty clay jug over, starting to congeal water from the incredibly humid air. "I never get to go on the hunt."

[Storm Veritas]

There were two very different varieties of magic Storm had encountered in his travels. There were unique abilities – like his electrical proficiencies, or Karuka’s eclectic mixes and ability to heal. There were also natural magics: music, sex, drugs and alcohol all came to mind. Very few were unfamiliar to the injured mage, and his experience would tell them they came in the wrong order tonight.

Karuka’s scotch had that oaken fire to it that he had missed while traveling out here on his own. His throat squeezed it down despite the natural inclination to retch. It was smooth as whiskeys went, but still hadn’t quite taken root when the knife slid into his tender, squalid sore.

Relax. Sit still. It gets worse.

The pain was excruciating, but it was also expected and welcome. The poisoned pus oozed out in a satisfying flow; thick and olive and brutal.

“Hoo…. Shit… there it is.”

The magic was sealed with an expert hand, and he felt a wave of relief set over him. His flop-sweat, which he had thought was simple humidity, immediately began to abate. Indeed, distilleries had nothing on Karuka. After all, there was magic… and there was MAGIC.

As Karuka trotted off, leaving him with the young girl, Storm realized how real the trust she had in him must be. Even injured, people in Talmaidh would isolate Veritas as a monster based on his reputation. To see that she lay at his feet this innocent babe several years since they last met was staggering. People made fine livings by making a point of not trusting Storm Veritas.

…you have no idea what type of danger some would say you’re in, do you? Most little girls lose their shit at ghost stories of men like me. Here, face to face with the “boogeyman” and you’re just upset you can’t help fetch dinner!?

“It’s alright, honey. Based on the fire-bird that your mom just walked off with, I’d have to guess that the hunt won’t be much more than fish in a barrel, anyway.”

He smiled, catching eyes with the lovely young girl. She had shown grit, and courage, and competence. She had elements of Karuka’s beauty, with some other man’s features peppered in. It was an unexpected, bizarre tug that Storm felt looking at the girl, a paternal longing he’d never experienced. She wasn’t his; so why did he suddenly feel regret that she wasn’t?

“Besides, I can pop up a few more fish with little more than a dunked hand in the drink over there. I guess, in fairness… it’s not great eating.”

She didn’t respond, but kept laboring at the camp setup work that was decidedly a feminine instinct. She was clearing brush, moving water from the floor, and preparing water with her condensing jar. It was an attention to detail he couldn’t be bothered with. It was a campsite more quickly becoming pristine than he could have imagined.

It is f*cking awesome.

“So… “ he began, hoping to get a word from the shy cinder ella. “What brings you two out here? I can’t imagine that the Crown sent out a rescue party for me, but don’t think I’ve warranted a bounty of late, either.”

He took another pull from the abandoned scotch as he looked curiously at her. Karuka, as he remembered, wouldn’t need much drink to get the job done. This mouthful was much smoother, and danced on his tongue before settling quietly in his stomach.

[Taische]

By then, Taische had a second fire built. Some feet away from the first, it was bigger, hotter, less smoky, and set up with sticks for cooking meat. “That’s for medicine, not for drinking,” she scolded, sitting down and starting to peel some of the reeds from Storm’s original campsite. “Though you did eat the nasty mudfish and left the reed roots. You might be sicker than my máthair’s medicine can help.”

The child’s expert hands wrapped the roots in their leaves and stuck them under the cooking coals. Then she took one of the bare shoots to Storm, trying to trade it for the canteen, which Storm was utterly unwilling to relinquish. “These are crunchy and a little sour. They aren’t really ready yet, but I like them.”

She sat beside the lightning mage, munching on one of the other shoots. She wasn’t concerned about him being a threat if her mother wasn’t. Besides, child’s logic told her, she could take care of herself just fine. “I got into a fight in the big pyramid in Radasanth,” she explained, starting to answer his question. “I kind of won and I kind of lost. Before that, Uncle Mal’s friends thought he’d want to see me, so they took me to Salvar without asking my máthair first. He didn’t want to see me, and my máthair didn’t want me with him. I think they aren’t friends anymore.”

Little bare heels scraped at the moss, wiping some of the day’s mud away. “She thought it was time to go somewhere less crazy. She was always talking about how she’s part of Dheathain, so we came here. We’re actually going to an old castle a few days…uh…that way.” Taische pointed south-west. “But we have a compass that lets my máthair know if she has a friend near, and it found one, so we came to see who. You got lucky. You could have died.”

Taodoine flapped into the clearing at that moment, bearing a bundle of meat in each talon. Taische bounced up to grab the larger bundle and start putting the slices over the fire. Judging by the haunch in Taodoine’s other talon, it was some sort of huge, fat lizard that was endemic to the jungles. “Máthair’s getting the rest of the meat and looking around, Ta?” The bird fluffed and shook, which the girl seemed to take as an affirmation.

When the meat was on to cook and the phoenix was happily tucked into his raw share, Taische turned back to Storm. She hadn’t forgotten something he’d said. “Why would you have a bounty, Uncle Storm? Are you a bad man?” The questions rolled off the little girl’s tongue with innocence and without fear. “Are you bad like Uncle Seth, or are you bad like Uncle Mal? Uncle Seth uses bad magic and makes bad decisions, and Uncle Mal is an empty man who has fire magic and boring stuff and doesn’t like anyone. What kind of bad are you?”

It might well call into question some of Karuka's life choices if one of her friends revealed he was a criminal and her child was so casual about him just being another one. Of course... with such a notable villain as Storm gentle as a housecat with her, Karuka wasn't exactly an average woman.