The Echo of the Enemy

[Storm Veritas]

(closed)

Coronian mornings were growing on him. The sun rose slowly in front of a pink sky, painting the clouds that beautiful silver-gray-and-purple that laid across the heavens above like tattered ribbons, frozen in the breeze. The crisp morning air was a welcome reprieve from the hot days which always followed, and any semblance of shiver he had to suffer due to cold was easily offset by the small campfire that roared before him. Attila brayed contently only ten feet away as he chewed on the tall grass behind the stick/rope/leather pack tent that the aging wizard had simply constructed.

“If everything wasn’t so goddamned wet, I could get used to this. Well, I suppose we could use some coffee out here…

“And ass! I could definitely use some ass out here. And based on how ornery you’re getting, I suspect you could use a filly of your own.�

The horse did not respond, despite Storm’s insistence that his joke had earned a good hoof-stomp from the dumb mountain of equine muscle. Actively avoiding the dew-covered grass, Storm periodically rotated the small rodent he had blasted that morning on the small spit he had suspended above the campfire. A nice thin char had established around the sinew while the skin and digestive tract burned harmlessly below. It had begun to waft a pleasant scent from the spices he had pressed into the stripped meat; breakfast was nearly ready.

“Fine, you stubborn bastard. Maybe I’m not funny, but lest you forget, without me you’d be at best dragon food… and at worst, glue.�

The gleaming brown marbles shined back from Attila to his master as Storm spoke, an intelligence in the great horse’s eyes as he appeared to process the conversation. Perhaps the old magician was losing his mind on his own, but the deliberate silence from the stallion seemed to imply a sort of kinship.

A few minutes later, a single black bead appeared upon the horizon from the east, tiny clouds of dust appearing before the sound of hooves approached. Storm quickly rose to see more clearly, standing from a fallen trunk which had made a perfectly comfortable breakfast chair. As he picked a few more pieces of long, gamey meat from the skeletal remains of his prey, his deep set eyes squinted into tiny gray shards to more closely see the unexpected visitor.

Short mare, rider’s clothes. Too thin to be a warrior… no weapons visible. He’s moving fast, but not racing. Messenger.

He waited patiently as he massaged the mane of Attila, who had turned quickly to face the approaching rider. A tall, gaunt man of about fifty slowed down as he approached, empty hands visible in a non-threatening gesture. As he neared, wide hemispheres of sweat appeared as relic traces about the rider’s neck, chest, and armpits. He had been riding in these clothes for a while.

“Morning! Sorry for the interruption, but I believe that you’re the man I’ve been sent to deliver this letter to. Storm Veritas, yes? Apparently your last supply run up near Radasanth got you spotted by someone with deep pockets; thank the Gods for your big, beautiful horse that made you a little easier to track.�

Storm didn’t move with even a modicum of fear, but instead traced his left hand on the long, thin dagger behind his back. His middle finger danced a delicate circle around the rounded end of the weapon, however his signature was all the traveler had requested. Only moments later, the blade was out – this time to break the wax seal of an official letter which arrived in a suspiciously pristine envelope. Quickly reading the contents with avarice, his heart pounding. His eyes devoured the last of the letter as it fell from his shaking fingertips.

Holy shit…

[Taische]

"What about this one?" Taische pointed to a mushroom growing in the moss. It was a little brown thing with a smooth, cup-like top and ridges growing along the bottom, and to the little girl's eyes, it looked like any other common, edible mushroom. Though dawn had barely broken, she and her mother were awake and moving, working on both eating apples and some necessary education along their roadless route.

"Poisonous." Karuka tossed the core of her apple to the base of a nearby tree. It would be a treat for a swarm of ants or anything else that came by it.

"What about this one over here that looks like it's in a shroud?"

"That 'un y' can eat, so long as y' aren't drinkin' anything stronger than water fer a few days. They don't taste very good, either."

"Oh! What about acorns?"

Karuka laughed, looking up into the great oaken branches above their heads, where their phoenix was chasing a family of chattering squirrels. "It's not th' right season fer acorns, wee bit. But where I come from, we crack 'em out of their shell, grind 'em down, an' soak 'em fer a day. Then we let 'em dry out an' cook with 'em. I'll teach y', if we're still here come th' fall."

"Where will we go if we aren't? Back to Dheathain? Back home?" Big blue eyes looked up from a dark little face, asking the same question they'd asked every day for a hundred days. When could they get out of chilly Corone and go back to the sweltering familiarity of Jalaan?

"Oh, wee bit." Karuka's golden hand reached into Taische's thick black hair, brushing it back. "We go where we need t' go, an' that's somethin' y'll learn t' do in time. Maybe someday that path'll lead us home. Maybe it won't. Th' future is rarely clear."

Taische pouted, crunching on the last few bites of her apple while stomping through the thick, loamy leaf litter. They'd spent the last two months walking through the wilderness in Corone. Her mom had fought some bandits a couple of times, they'd helped a town overcome a pestilence, and they'd even visited some of her mom's old friends. Sometimes those friends had kids about her age to play with, but they were never in one place more than a couple of days.

The child liked being outside. She liked having the clean air and the starry sky and living, growing earth beneath her feet and between her bare toes. That felt right. But Corone itself felt stale and dried up, like a piece of bread that had been left out a day too long. It didn't excite or interest her, really, though she could see that her mother took to it like it was home.

Maybe Corone feels more like where she grew up. But I'd rather be at home, or at least in Dheathain.

The two broke out of the dense forest and into a large, grassy meadow just after the dew had evaporated from the ground. Taische breathed deep, soaking in the scents of sun and wildflowers. It was a welcome break from the heavy, musty smell of the deep forest, where leaves obscured most light and beetles and fungus broke down dead things so that they could breathe new life into the trees.

Taodoine erupted from the canopy, flying high and happy now that he could taste the open sky, then he folded his wings and plummeted down, scaring a flock of quail into flight. He wasn't hungry and Karuka and Taische wouldn't stop to eat until evening, but it was never too early to play with his food.

Taische's eyes tracked the startled flock, and she ran forward to watch them better. While her mother was a diviner - one who took the runes and saw what they told her - she was an auger - one who saw glimpses in the future in signs the world gave her. The birds twisted and turned in their numbers, fleeing the phoenix who could have easily brought down five of them in a swoop, before flying north when the predator bored of the game.

"We need to head south!" Taische looked earnestly at her mother, sharp-featured face a little pale and drawn. "We need to! Or someone's going to die very badly."

Karuka looked at her daughter, then at the sky. She tucked a lock of deep red hair behind her ear, then pulled a couple of little clay tablets from a pouch at her waist and nodded. "Then we're off south. C'mon, Taodoine."

[Storm Veritas]

He scrambled to grab the letter before the morning dew could ruin its message, before the wind could take the incredible away from him, on a wing of disbelief and doubt. No, he had to see the words again, let them wash over him, and confirm that his eyes hadn’t lied.




The Office of Chancellor Tyllan
32 Brookings Rd
Radasanth Upon Corone

Second Day of BloodMoon, CP847

Mr. Veritas,

It is with some considerable hesitation that I write you, however my advisors have informed me that my intentions and information are not ill-founded. Although the city of Radasanth still has within its statute of limitations several warrants for your arrest, as a pragmatist I understand that the considerable time and your recent improved behavior in the eyes of the state warrant some form of reconciliation.

Reconciliation begins with trust, which is extended greatly in this offer. Should you use this notice to bring any subterfuge to my office, your warrants will be immediately called forward. I recognize that you are, in fact, a scoundrel, however feel that are mutual interests should lead to my problem solved and your reconciliation in the eyes of the state.

I would propose terms for a reconciliation of your warrants and writs. Our town has very recently been attacked by a subtle threat, one which must be handled with a certain delicacy and lack of any official presence.

The expansion efforts of the Radasanthian infrastructure requires the claiming of adjacent lands. Schools are needed, and new roads must be built to accommodate our bustling economy and growing populace. Unfortunately, not all land owners whom claim lands surrounding the city have accepted reasonable terms to relocate and allow for the public growth.

The single Lord who owns the most critical lands is your old friend, Letho Ravenheart. Letho, “The Red Marshall”, a hero in the eyes of many in Radasanth, has refused any terms to relocate his considerable lands away from the western perimeter of the city’s reach. As a result, he has hamstrung growth for the greater good.

Letho Ravenheart is a dangerous man, one whom the city cannot be seen to visibly pressure. He is also a man without kin. Your task is simple; find a way to relocate Letho to clear the first ten acres from the western perimeter of the reach of Radasanth. The means of his relocation, as well as the methodology, are up to your discretion. Should you successfully relocate Mr. Ravenheart, you shall be compensated with 500 crowns in addition to a reconciliation of outstanding warrants.

This offer expires 26 days from writing, at the end of the Blood Moon.


Respectfully,
Sir Edgar Tyllan

Letho F*cking Ravenheart… you’ve got to be shitting me.

Storm grinned insidiously at the very thought, remembering an endless set of adventures and wars with the gallant warrior. Letho had taken far too much from him, leaving him a villain in the eyes of many. He had always been so pious, so holy, so pure… it was exhausting. The prospect of using this one opportunity to end the legend would taste as sweet as any twice-distilled mead. It was far too good to be true.

Although it was typically too early to smoke, this occasion warranted some celebration. Producing his small red clay pipe, Storm pressed a thumb’s weight of dried tobacco into the small space. He squatted to shield the morning wind as he rubbed his thumb and index finger, effortlessly sparking the bowl. Rolling the paper into a thin scroll, he dipped the edge into the fast-fired orange chamber, watching the corner catch.

Attila brayed nearby as the document blazed in the wind. Thoughts of a trap filled the wizard’s mind as he contemplated the offer. He was skeptic, but the proposal of locating and eliminating the sworn enemy was simply too good to pass up. As the tiny fragments of red-orange ash floated harmlessly towards the city of Radasanth, Storm immediately began disassembling his simple tent. Looking up at his mighty horse, the magician smiled as he spoke through clenched teeth, popping smoke around the sides of his teeth.

“It’s time to get to work, big fella.”

[Karuka]

Karuka strode through the woods alongside Taische's anxious scurry. Her daughter had been more and more concerned with the wellbeing of others over the last few weeks, and while it made the older O'Sheean immensely proud, she didn't quite understand it. What had changed in her little girl? Taische hadn't yet gone through the selfish preteen years; had something happened during one of the interludes when her mother left her so she could deal with dangers far beyond the child's reach?

If she keeps on like she does, I might not have a choice but t' settle us down fer another couple of years or t' start takin' her along. Or... Well, it's high time she really learned th' healin' arts an' how t' handle beasts. Th' child'll be ten soon enough; I've only a few short years left with her an' ay so much t' teach her.

Where had the years gone? Hadn't it only been a heartbeat ago that she was crouched in a birthing tub, trying to breathe between contractions and push at the midwives' urging? When had that tiny, sweet baby had the time to grow into a curious toddler? When had that toddler found a moment to grow into this beautiful, vivacious girl?

Next time I blink, she'll be handin' me my granddaughter.

"Slow down, wee bit. Rushin' won't solve this problem y' see if y' get yerself hell-bent on goin' th' direct way." Karuka didn't mind traveling through dense brush, like the thorny brambles impeding their path through the dense woods, but it would take them at least a day extra to go through, and not nearly so long to edge their way around.

"But... then how?" Frustrated blue eyes looked up into the redhead's face, and in return a gentle hand stroked back the thick black hair.

"Here." Karuka pulled a lodestone pendant from around her neck and gave it to her daughter. "Y'know what this is, right?"

Taische frowned. "The pendulum you got from your mother."

"Ay. As she got it from her mother, who got it from hers, who got it from hers. Someday it'll belong t' you, an' then t' your daughter, an' then t' hers, each in their turn. We've used it t' guide our choices an' our steps fer long generations, an' it's time y' started learnin' how t' use it. Stand. Close yer eyes. Breathe. An' then ask, with all y' have in ya, 'where do I need t' go?'"

The child looked skeptical, but did as she was told. She'd rarely seen her mother use the pendulum; Karuka seemed sure which way her dharma was directing her more often than not. After more than a minute of standing still and just asking, the pendant started swinging of its own accord, east to west, east to west.

Taische snapped her eyes open and looked down at the first swing, then watched it for a while. "But... does it mean east or west? And why not south?"

"Look fer which way it swings harder. An' keep askin' every now an' again. It'll lead y' right."

Taische watched the necklace swing a few more times, then started walking west. She didn't understand, but her mom knew what she was doing.

[Storm Veritas]

Attila had grown up a bit, or so it appeared. The mighty steed had traveled with him across the world with him, and had moved a bit from the world’s largest mule into something less stubborn. He was still temperamental, and would be prone to fits of anger, but with Storm had grown a real kinship. The mountain of jet black muscle marched towards Radasanth without any sort of fight this morning, something which the wizard found to be almost alarming. People would describe the horse as great, beautiful, powerful and fast, however obedient was a term that was entirely foreign, and set his master’s nerves on edge.

“You must remember Radasanth, or just needed to walk. Stay rested, big fella; stay strong. If we see that ornery sonofabitch, I’ll need every shred of your speed.”

It really hadn’t dawned on him what exactly Storm planned to do should he encounter Letho Ravenheart. The almost comically noble hero had bested him more than once, and while Storm Veritas had grown into a force of his own accord, taking down Letho had proven to be akin to tackling a tree. Still, there were too many nights broken from the terrible memories. Too much potential had been robbed by Ravenheart. There was a blood tithe to pay.

And besides, any detour through Radasanth gets me an excuse to visit their bars and brothels. Not that much excuse is needed.

He fantasized a bit as he rode the horse, thinking back to times long passed. Adventures, battles, even wars were fought against Letho. In truth, a large part of Storm’s own strength was drawn from forcing himself to grow stronger in an attempt to kill the mighty Marshall. Different scenarios played out in his head as his horse steadily walked the worn path between the tall grasses. The trees had become a bit more dense now; the forests surrounded the town in a bit of a protective ring. It made for premium ambush territory, for any who traveled through the area high on saddlebags full of goodies, or simply let the drink catch up to them before stopping to set camp.

“So we need to find him, track him, mark him, then what? I suppose the big idiot would still rather make it a dick-measuring contest and duel at high noon, but that’s no damned use. Could we sneak up on him? How do we get the information we’d need to be effective here? He’s probably alone out at his farm like a goddamned hermit; intel on him is probably as detailed as tracking a f*cking ant…”

Attila didn’t respond to the strategic discourse, but kept marching ahead. He did stop following Storm’s idea surrounding the concept of ambushing Letho to move his bowels in a thick pile that eliminated the last vestiges of morning odors; those of honey-dew and local pollen-rich daisies.

“Point taken. Let’s see what we can learn in town; we’re not far now.”

Radasanth appeared on the horizon, popping up in the afternoon sun like a great stony titan. The largest buildings – either governmental or church based – appeared first, their tall steeples of stone and shale appearing as bleached-white towers with shiny, glowing auburn caps. It was beautiful from afar; one would never know the stench of hedonism that lived within the pits of such an impressive backdrop.

[Karuka]

A day of walking took the O'Sheeans to a broad, empty road. Taische still held the pendulum, and a wide grin split her face when it pointed definitively down the road. The travel would be much easier without having to ford streams or go around impassably thick brush. Her bright eyes skimmed her surroundings, taking in the bright purples and oranges of the local wildflowers, then the direction that the road led.

Her face fell; she had few good memories in that direction. "...Radasanth? Oh..."

Karuka chuckled, pulling a confused twig insect from her daughter's thick black hair and releasing it onto a branch. "Dharma won't always take y' where y' think y' want t' go, wee bit. But d' y' want t' turn back? Y' saw th' signs, this'll be yer call." The redhead watched her daughter closely; would this newfound sense of responsibility take her somewhere she actively didn't want to go? Or would she turn away despite knowing that someone would die if she didn't? Her runes had told her what the birds hadn't told her child; she knew who it was who might be walking to his doom.

He damn well d'serves it, too.

Taische frowned in the direction of the still unseen city. What would her mother want her to do? Obviously, she'd want to save the life. Her mother was a hero. What did she want to do? She didn't want to go to Radasanth. Radasanth was big and crowded, dirty and smelly, and it was where Uncle Storm was from, and he'd been more mean than kind.

What's the right thing to do, though?

Her eyes slid away from the bend in the road and down to the lodestone pendant that dangled from her hand. It pointed resolutely toward the city. Which way did she need to go? The exact way she didn't want to.

With her course set, Taische's little brown hand slid the divining tool back to her mother. She didn't need it anymore. Her little bare feet hesitated for one more moment, still reluctant to go back, but then her toes dug into the dirt and she started marching.

Karuka smiled proudly at the back of her daughter's head, completely unseen. While her very powerful, very impulsive child had a long way to go, and while she had a lot to worry about when it came to Taische's rearing, she was growing up in the right direction. At just nine, she'd chosen to save the life of some unknown person, despite dearly wanting to do something else.

She'll be just fine, my wee bit.

[Storm Veritas]

Radasanth seemed to be a living animal to Storm Veritas. It was familiar, but never precisely the same. Perhaps it was the flow of seasons, which morphed the energy of the people in the streets. The pleasant spring had yielded to the unforgiving summer, and with it came a certain omnipresent lethargy Heat was a funny thing; it seemed the Radasanthians yearned so desperately for it in the harsh cold of winter, yet loathed it when it finally arrived at their doorsteps. Heat slowed you, made the hangover linger longer, and made that acrid urine smell from the alleys around the city’s pubs sting with more bite.

The big horse had moved slowly, and they had camped out in the grasses outside of town for one final night before entering the city. He roped Attila to a stand-pole in the shade near the town gates, as the great beast happily drove his face into the mighty trough of drinking water with a satisfied bray. Summer mornings weren’t as bad for most. The morning brought less scrutiny, as people moved from home to work with a quiet focus, scanning through newspapers as though in a world of their own.

Damned people with their head in the papers, wandering through the world like the undead. The whole world passes them by while they read stupid gossip about their neighbors and ignore the real people around them. Shit, don’t they know the –real- news just walked through the town gates?

It had been months since Storm had rampaged through the streets of Radasanth, assassinating multiple politicians and engaging in wild battle in the streets. It made for rampant news for several weeks, but then a couple of royals had gotten in a fight and the papers seemed to completely forget about the wizard who flipped the city on it’s head. For good measure, he’d let his stubble run thicker, and wore more pedestrian gear than the dress-nines he’d normally embrace. The thin cotton shirt was much appreciated in the heat.

Flipping a silver crown to a boy at the paper stand, the magician stood and scanned the local paper with a flippant disgust. The headline featured some petty quarrel between some pompous bard and his attention-drowned girlfriend. It was trash.

“Redundancies, clichés, and mixed metaphors. I’d swear, the local pens are manned by people that barely qualify for the top ninety-fifth percentile. Barely literate, it’d be funny if it weren’t so sad.”

The merchant responded to him with a wide eyed nod, as his mind was likely still stuck back upon “redundancy”. Storm’s first exchange had not been with Corone’s most cunning linguist, and he realized he’d have to keep moving. One couldn’t draw blood from a stone, he reasoned, and getting salient information from this dunderhead was a wasted effort.

Idiot. You’d think the paper merchant would be literate. Where the hell am I going to get the information I need? Bars aren’t open, and the streets are littered with the brainless.

Scanning through the paper, the electromancer sought shelter in the shade, choosing to read updates in the Radasanthian Register and scour for mention of Letho Ravenheart, the Marshall, or better yet Storm himself. If the paper could speak, Veritas wondered if it would sound more like the lonesome howl of a wolf or the simple drone of crickets. Either way, there was nothing here for him.

Absolute trash. Probably would have been more useful before my morning dump; at least the paper feels softer than those leaves.

The tall villain cast the newspaper roughly into the trash outside of City Hall, a satisfying thunk sound bouncing back to him. He thought for a moment as he gazed up at the massive granite structure, cut without cost in mind from giant blocks and marble facades. Going into the town hall months after a killing spree should have been absolute insanity, however Storm relied on the fickle memory of jaded citizens and the collective stupidity of Coronians.

These imbeciles won’t even look up from their papers, how could they ever spot me?

As he entered the town hall to seek land registry maps, the wizard considered he had placed an awfully large wager on stupidity.

[Karuka]

Taische's bare brown feet tapped the rutty wagon road in a quick staccato, forcing her mother to lengthen her stride to keep up. Karuka seemed focused to her nine-year-old eyes, but there was no urgency in her posture. Was that because she knew it would be all right, or was that because the redhead was following the little girl's lead? Or was it because...?

"Mom?" Taische shoved a mass of unruly black hair out of her face and peered up with eyes that matched the summer sky. "Radasanth is a really big city, right? The biggest in all Corone?"

"Aye, it is." Karuka reached out to brush a low-hanging branch aside, earning a cranky hiss from the phoenix who had perched there. She was slightly taller than the average Coronian man, and so frequently found obstacles at head height.

"And people die there every day, right? Sometimes because they're great-great-great-great-great grandparents and have lived a good life and they just die because they're very old, and sometimes because of accidents, and sometimes because they're sick, right? But also, sometimes they die in terrible ways. And that happens every day?"

Karuka paused. She'd never bothered to hide the sometimes brutal truth of mortality with her daughter; she didn't want reality to come as a sudden shock. But something about Taische's ability to take what she knew, apply it to a broad range of people, and then vocalize it unsettled her. Why should dark truths come from such innocent lips? And how much did Taische really understand about what she was saying, and how much of it was just an abstract concept.

"Aye, wee bit. People die in Radasanth every day. Sometimes in awful ways."

"Then..." Taische frowned deeply, rubbing her cheek. "How will I know who we're looking for? And why did I see the death of this one person, and not all the others? Why not all the others, all over the world? Don't we care about all of them?"

Karuka's golden hand clamped down on the little girl's shoulder, stopping her and turning her. She crouched down, putting herself at her child's eye level so that she could be sure her words were getting through. These were important questions, and the answers she gave - and the way that Taische understood those answers - were absolutely critical.

"We care about them, of course we do. Anywhere th' strong or powerful are oppressin' those who can't fight back, anywhere an innocent is gettin' hurt or harmed, we care. But Taische, we're only two people. I'm very strong an' very powerful, I've a lot of experience fightin' fer and helpin' people, but I can only be in one place at a time. In yer time, you will grow so much in power an' wisdom, beyond my ability t' see or yer ability t' imagine right now. But even you can't be in more'n one place at a time. No matter how much we care, we can't do everything. We jus' have t' do what's in our power t' do."

Taische's shoulders drooped a little; what use was everything she was learning if she couldn't do very much? Karuka frowned slightly and pulled her daughter into a hug.

"Th' lives y' save, th' people y' help, y' change th' world fer them, wee bit. Y' save th' world fer them. Sometimes y' can save many jus' by bein' there, lookin' evil in th' face, and askin' it if it really wants t' tangle with y'. Sometimes y' can fight with all th' strength in yer body fer one life, an' y' lose 'em anyway. Y' keep goin' b'cause y' never know if y' don't try. Y' keep goin' b'cause it's th' right thing t' do. An' th' victories are worth th' defeats, wee bit. They're worth it."

The little girl leaned into her mother's shoulder, gripping tightly around her neck. "And why did I see this one?"

Karuka shook her head. "Y' don't always find out, Taische. Sometimes y' see a life t' save b'cause their time hasn't come. Sometimes y' see somethin' that can't be avoided. Sometimes y' see someone who'll become important t' you. I'll ask y' again, wee bit... what d' y' want t' do here? This was yer vision, this is yer call."

The little girl stood silent for a few moments, feeling the weight of her choice despite the shelter of her mother's arms. "...let's keep going."

The redhead kissed her daughter's forehead and stood, taking the little hand in hers as they resumed their journey.

[Taische]

The next dawn saw them in the big city, where the trickle of people had yet to become a thronging crowd. Still, Taische stuck close to her mother's side; her last memories of Radasanth were far from pleasant. Both O'Sheeans had donned their boots just prior to stepping through the gates; the weight of industry and civilization drowned out the song of the earth. The leather dampened that sense and helped them blend in - though how well a pair of brown-skinned, blue-eyed women traveling alone could blend in when one was abnormally tall, had dark red hair, carried weapons, wore vlince, and traveled with a bird as orange as fire was debatable.

On her own, the child might have appeared slightly more normal, despite being dark in a land of fairly pale people. All she seemed to have was a walking stick and a satchel; the green cotton dress that came to her knees looked little different from any other girl's clothing.

Despite the foreigners' unusual appearance, citizens paid little attention to Karuka and Taische. These men and women had jobs to get to and families to support, and so many would-be adventurers wandered through Corone's largest port that one or two more weren't really worth their notice if they weren't actively making trouble.

The little girl munched on a hot fruit bun while they wove their way to the heart of Radasanth. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, or who, or where, or when, so she assumed she just had to go the direction that felt right and that things would work themselves out. Sometimes a clairvoyant just had to trust they'd end up going the right way.

She hoped she was going the right way. Usually, the interior of a city was well-policed, and people didn't dare be bad when they could be caught and punished. With every step, Taische's head told her that they couldn't possibly be going the right way. A different sense entirely kept her walking.

Finally, as dawn's dusky pink was warming into morning's gold, she caught sight of a tall, thin man with a rough growth of stubble. Taische froze at the sight of him, then quickly whipped around and scurried out of his view. She'd only seen him so disheveled once, but she knew who it was immediately. Her "uncle," Storm Veritas. And she was pretty sure he hated her. At the very least, he'd been incredibly vicious the last time she'd seen him.

She peeked around to see that her mother and their pet bird had not followed her and were still standing in the mouth of the little alley they were walking through. Both of them had turned to look at her, though. Beyond them, Storm was absorbed in a newspaper, a contemptuous scowl plastered upon his face. He hadn't seen any of them.

"...it's him, isn't it?" The question came, though the child didn't need to ask. "He's either going to kill someone really badly, or he's going to get killed really badly. What do we do, mom?"

"What should we do, wee bit? What's right?"

Taische looked down, scuffing her boots in the trash that had accumulated along the sides of the narrow stone pathway and pushing her hair out of her face. Her big blue eyes peered into the refuse, looking for some pattern that might make sense to her.

What was right?

[Storm Veritas]

Storm strode out of the town hall with a smile on his face, broad and aware of the power the paper in his hands held. The zoning map was a simple enough thing, printed on a large scroll of thick, durable paper which had been since waxed to improve its weatherability. If felt like a weapon in his hand, the tautly rolled parchment no less powerful than a well folded katana. The words which he had focused on were indelible in the grand scheme.



Ravenheart Estate (under lien)

They were magical words to him; verification that the lands just outside the town walls were both legitimately disputed and belonged to the man that had taken so much from him. Storm leaned against a stone pillar, closing his eyes and allowing the morning sun to wash over him as he enjoyed the moment.

That old, sanctimonious dickhead. I can’t wait to see the look on his face when he sees me ride up on him. Fat, rich, and slow; he won’t have a chance to deal with the hell I bring to his f*cking doorstep.

The magician didn’t wait long to strategize; the morning bustle would calm soon, and his face couldn’t linger long in town, regardless of his disguise or the lack of novelty a loose killer had amongst the jaded, blackened civilization which pretended to exist within the walls of Radasanth. He had waited years for the opportunity to exact revenge on Letho Ravenheart; he saw no good reason to wait another moment.

Wait too long, word will spread. For all the holier-than-thou act he put on, he was always well connected.

As Storm returned to the stable to untether Attila, he pocketed the paperwork and took a last, rich breath of the acrid air. A generally unpleasant odor of wet fur covered the morning with the dew, which was beginning to lift with the rising sun. Soon enough, the familiar aromas of horse manure and stale booze would dominate. His body ached a bit as he pulled himself up into the saddle, whereas the great beast beneath him relished in the chance to move.

“Easy boy, it’s not a long walk. Two, maybe three hours. Easy work.”

The adventurer moved slowly through the crowded streets, looking down to the curb’s edge as his great mount strode powerfully. Any time one rode in the street, you were bound to get attention; today was no exception. Worse, he felt extra eyes upon him, as someone was near him. He whipped his head around frantically, but didn’t find any onlooker amongst the crowd. Was it paranoia? Steeled by his bloodlust for the Red Marshal, Veritas pushed ahead, marching to the city gates.

[Taische]

Taische led her mother through the tame woods and cultivated fields that surrounded Radasanth. Their brown skin and plain clothing let them blend easily into the bracken of the forest, and anyone who observed them through the meadows would see no more than a bobbing black dot that skimmed just above the tall grasses and a vivid red wave that flowed just behind it.

The two half-wild O'Sheeans had no need for the roads that wound Storm out and around before bringing him back to his target location, so though they didn't have Attila's long stride or speed, they shouldn't arrive too far behind the temperamental lightning mage.

Truth be told, Taische wasn't sure if she really thought it best to intervene in her uncle's affairs. If they stopped him from doing something bad to someone, he would just hate them even more. He would yell and swear again, and he might even try to hurt them.

If he hits me or mom, mom will probably kill him, and he'll die terribly, and then I haven't stopped the thing I saw. The little girl cast an azure glance back at the woman who followed just a stride behind her unshod heels. But what if he's the one who's going to get killed? Is he trying to kill someone who isn't trying to kill him and others? He's a violent man, and he hates us. No, I think he doesn't hate mom. Just me. Maybe we should leave him?

Her mom had said they couldn't save everyone, and that sometimes bad people had to die so that innocent people could live. Taische had even seen that in action a few times. She'd witnessed her mother kill people in combat, but those people hadn't given Karuka any choice. Was her Uncle Storm not giving these people a choice? What if they were protecting people? He definitely had a dark side.

Maybe everyone can live. Even if Uncle Storm hates us now, he'll be alive to maybe not hate us later.I think that would be best, if everyone can live.

Behind her, Karuka walked with the same confident, unfaltering stride that she always had, but Taische saw something simmering in her mother's expression. She'd seen the firmly set brows and unwavering gaze before, usually when her mom had a goal, but the hard line of her pomegranate lips was something new entirely. Would it be better for her to decide that they shouldn't go after all?

They walked until morning had nearly waxed into noon, when the redhead suddenly put a hand on the little girl's shoulder, stopping her cold. The two stood for a few seconds in the dim green light that filtered through the thick canopy. The only sounds that trickled into the dense grove around them were the rowdy territorial disputes of songbirds and the ever-present drone of insects. They couldn't hear combat, or anguish, or even the rhythmic strides of a horse.

"Wait here, Taische."

The child whirled around, eyes wide in surprise. "But I thought this was something I had to do, because I Saw it!"

Karuka shook her head slowly. "Wee bit, y' saw death. Y' saw violence. Where y' see violence, y' might well have t' participate if y' go t' seek it out. Y' might walk int' a situation where y' have t' kill t' stay alive." The older clairvoyant looked down at her daughter with a serious and sad expression. "Y've seen violence. Y've seen death. Y've seen some ay horrible things. Some of those things I vowed t' protect y' from, an' I didn't. Some of those things y' walked yerself int' despite me tellin' y' t' not. But until yer old enough, I'll keep y' from th' worst of what th' world has t' offer as best I can."

"But-!"

Karuka stood straighter and her eyes flashed cold fire. "This isn't up fer yer arguments, an' I wasn't askin' if y' wanted t' stay behind. I've only a few short years left t' protect y', and I will damn well do it if I can. Wait here. If y' aren't in this grove when I come back, I'll find us a house an' we'll not leave its walls fer a month."

Taische set her jaw and sat down, kicking at a root. One hour, her mother was teaching her things so she could grow up, the next, she was treating her like a defenseless child. "I've been in fights before," she pouted. "I can hold my own."

"Not t'day. Taodoine." The phoenix pulled its gaze away from a family of scurrying squirrels in the branches, paying keen attention to his master's call. "Stay here. Make sure she doesn't go anywhere."

Taodoine obediently hopped to a branch and clacked his beak at Taische, trying to get her intention and invite the sullen girl to play. It didn't work.

"I'll be back soon. Stay put." With that, Karuka vanished into the forest, leaving her daughter tucked away behind a wall of greenery and thorns. With any luck, trouble would keep clear of the child for once.

[Storm Veritas]

Attila was a great horse, and moved effortlessly with Storm on his back as though he were carrying little more than a saddle upon his hard, broad back. The wizard had worked hard to break the contentious beast, whose power and will kept any ranchers from bothering with him. Recalling his own relationships, Storm Veritas thought the whole thing sounded entirely familiar. A smile crept across the face of the aging magician; perhaps both he and his stallion were just general pains in the ass.

�Chuff…. Whee!�

In uncharacteristic fashion, the horse bucked slightly and looked off at the woods on Storm’s left side. The brush was thick, dense, and unpassable; this stretch of forest would slow him from the well-beaten road. Something over there had caught the attention of the great horse, an excited bray as though it was an old friend.

“Easy, fella. Probably just a goddamned squirrel or boom-beetle zipping down the poplars. No reason to get your nuts in a twist.�

The large farmhouse of Letho Ravenheart had popped on the edge of the horizon, a brightly lit outlier behind rows of untended grass fields. The unkempt greens were disheartening; the home wouldn’t be much of an ambush spot if the Marshall had already skipped town.

�Son of a bitch… stay here, big fella. Stay safe and keep those ears perked.�

The magician’s whispers left the ebony hued Attila satisfied, as the tall horse remained at the forest’s edge, sniffing around and happily seeking the welcome disturbance somewhere within the brush. For a loyal steed, Attila barely noticed as his master slipped into the grasses.

The electromancer took sight of the farmhouse as he approached, skirting the edges of tall grasses to avoid detection. Toppling tall grasses would catch the eye of even the laziest of lookouts, but the rich, warm aroma of grain doubled as a wonderful cover as he moved ahead quickly. As he closed, the house appeared better tended, in spite of the lien placed by the city and the untended farms.

Not paying the town, and not leaving. Enough money to keep the farm kept up without bothering with the fields. Letho always seemed to prideful to let the fields run wild; he must be laid up.

Mixed feelings twisted his stomach in knots as Storm moved forward, contemplating his path of action. What precisely he planned to do upon arrival eluded him; he was torn between conversation and carnage. The pendulum swung rapidly from vengeance to fence-mending, as Letho Ravenheart had been both a friend and enemy in times gone by.

“Always looked down at me for my selfishness, like he wasn’t a man of needs himself. That big prick –DID- save my ass a time or two, at least before he tried to erase me.� The whispers he offered himself helped his thoughts process more quickly; and it was a necessity. He hadn’t hesitated to seek some sort of conflict with the legend, but hadn’t bothered in his infinite wisdom to finalize a plan. Veritas continued to proceed with caution, moving swiftly across the soft road that cut between fifty-yard squares of tall grass.

Not much activity at the house; only one horse out front. Do I knock on the door and come direct, or wait him out?

Storm’s eyes took a keen gaze on the outhouse, a small wooden construction some fifty yards behind the farmhouse. Every man would visit at some point, and no one was on the top of their game when they had to pay homage. It was settled, and he remained in his deep squat some hundred yards from the house as he planned out the best-fit path to work around the house.

�Click-chick!�

“Real slow, don’t move. Keep those hands out wide and slow, and don’t think about anything cute with that lightning bullshit of yours.�

Someone had gotten the drop on Storm, as he felt the cool metal barrel pressed firmly against the back of his skull. Where the stranger had come from was a complete mystery, but at this point it didn’t much matter.

Shit.

[Karuka]

The sinister silence held for several seconds, letting Storm's stomach sink and giving his assailant time to savor his victory over the electromancer. Then vines erupted from the ground, wrapping around the men like rope and wrenching them apart. The firearm let loose a crack as loud as thunder as the ambusher reflexively tensed up, but the bullet burrowed uselessly into the soil instead of fatally into its target's brain.

Startled screams and swears sounded from around the field, telling of nearly half a dozen others who had come for Storm's head. Grunts joined profanity as the men started struggling against their binds, but the sounds of effort turned to pain as the vines clamped down ever harder.

"I'd stop strugglin', if I was any of y'. Th' harder y' fight, th' tighter yer held. These vines can break bones, if y' resist too much." The voice traveled from the edge of the field, rolling and lilting without warmth. Its owner walked up the path with the graceful confidence of a lioness strolling into a clump of gazelle fawns. Stray bits of grain and grass caressed her face, hair and shoulders as her long, toned legs devoured the ground between her and her quarry.

Eyes as blue and cold as Berevan ice scanned the unkempt field, skewering each man in his turn with a form of disdain. The expression only hardened when she reached Storm and the man with him. Her left hand rose slowly, making the vines holding them twist and rise up so that the electromancer and ambusher were both at her eye level.

She spared Storm the intensity of her glare for the first moment, instead skewering the unshaven man beside him. "Understand this. I've come a very long way in th' last few days, an' I've no patience fer games or lies. If y've evidence of crimes this man has committed or a legitimate grievance with 'im, then of course he must answer t' y'. But he'll damn well first answer t' me."

Her eyes shot to Storm for a second, then went back to the bandit, whose apprehensive hazel eyes had fixed themselves on the redhead's golden face. He opened his mouth to speak, but she didn't let him get a word out.

"Which of ye bastards is in charge?"

[Storm Veritas]

Given the options, Storm wondered temporarily if he’d have preferred taking his chances with the gunman to listening to Karuka’s admonitions. The gunmen, since there were roughly a handful, and they all stupidly came after the electromancer with their thick, metallic weapons. It was as futile a strategy as shoveling sand against the sea; Veritas was soured of the opportunity to see the look on the face of his trapper when the gun flew out of his hand as though pulled by the invisible hand of the Wind God.

Could have fried these bastards like marshmallows over campfire, and figured out where the hell Letho actually is. None of that shit’s going down with Madam Manners sitting over my shoulder like some glorified, judgy cricket.

Karuka, on the other hand, was entirely more frustrating to deal with. She was wildly powerful – much more gifted in diverse magics than he was – and held onto that annoyingly rigid moral code. It wasn’t as though she were some prudish priestess, however she held an inflexibility when it came to the greater good that stood firmly in the path of progress. The newly-entangled, farmhand-dressed contractor looked at Storm with wide eyes, as though the magician would lend him some guidance in dealing with the scarlet haired beauty that had burst seemingly from the clouds upon them.

Good f*cking luck, there, Jackson. You figure out how to deal with her, I’ll be taking diligent notes.

“The lady asked you a question. I wouldn’t recommend making her angry.” In spite of the cold glare that O’Sheean had originally shot his way, Storm remained defiant with his charming tone.

“Well, you can tell her I got two big nuts here that she can suck on. Do your worst – our lot aren’t some group of soft-spined rats like your type.”

A fantasy instantly filled the mind of the wizard as the possibility of exploding upon this band of merry idiots flooded his front brain. To flash and dance amongst them, spraying blood like an abstract artist, dashing with bolts of white and blue between swiping drags of titanium and steel. To watch them twist, squeal, and beg for their lives. To watch a man cry like a child as Storm pulled the iron from his blood through his skin. It was a lovely dream, and one he wouldn’t have a prayer of enjoying in the presence of his beautiful, would-be better half. Instead, he stood motionless, thoughts migrating to Taische.

Where’s the little one? Hasn’t been that long since they were reunited; I expect that she didn’t spend much time hunting out a babysitter. Of course, that gods-forsaken bird is hard to miss, and I don’t see him.

Patient, Storm bit his lip and avoided either beheading the bold fool who spoke against Karuka or laughing at him. How she reacted to the imbecile would certainly hint at the location of the daughter that Storm had begrudgingly grown to adore.

[Karuka]

Karuka’s eyes hardened when her demand was met with an insult. Her fingers twitched ever so slightly. The vines around the speaker twisted hard, and a series of loud, wet CRUNCHes and POPs sounded from his right arm. For a second, the man merely looked at her with bewilderment. Then the pain hit and he started screaming.

“I’ve said I’m not in th’ mood fer games. Perhaps y’ didn’t b’lieve me, but I hope y’ do now.” The redhead let the man fall to the ground in agony, though vines still slithered over him like sinister constrictors. She planted the butt of her spear into the ground and crouched over him, glaring prevalida daggers into a face that had gone pale and clammy with pain.

“I’ll ask again, though I think I know th’ answer.” The accent dropped from her voice, taking it from a rolling growl to a tone as flat and harsh as a serrated blade. “Do you have legitimate, legal proof of grievance against this man, or do you not? Choose your words with care. The next thing I snap on you will be much more precious than an arm.”

The man shook in fear, starting to hyperventilate. If he didn’t answer her soon, Karuka knew he would soon be too shocky to answer her at all. Fortunately for that poor soul, and possibly the souls of his companions, he had a few moments of clarity left in him.

“H-hired! We were- we were hired. I can’t say by who. The contract’s in-”

“I don’t care.” Karuka stood up. “Leave now. All of y’. Take th’ way north. Go west or south, an’ I’ll kill ev’ry single one of y’. Any man doubles back t’ try an’ fill his contract, I let this smug bastard here kill ev’ry single one of y’.” She obviously meant Storm.

“If y’ understand me, say yes. If y’ don’t, I’ll repeat it. If y’ don’t understand because y’ intend t’ fight, I’ll kill y’. If any man bends fer his weapons after he’s released, I’ll kill him. Do all of y’ understand?”

A chorus of ‘yes’ and even a lone ‘yes, ma’am’ erupted, and Karuka released the binds on all but Storm. One of the men did bend for his pistol, but the vines whipped around so quickly and viciously that he didn’t even see what took him down. The rest of the ambushers wasted no time in clearing out, and the redhead’s eyes tracked them into the cover of the trees. Her earth-sense tracked them further. Once they were out of sight, she freed Storm as well.

“Taische saw yer death a few days ago, though she didn’t know it was yers. She dragged us all th’ way down here t’ keep that from happenin’. But what’ve you done, Storm Veritas, t’ get yerself int’ so much trouble out here?”

[Storm Veritas]

Sufficiently more pleasant than having Karuka rain hell upon him was to watch her do her dirty work upon others. She was the most caring and selfless soul he’d encountered in all of his travels upon the great mystical plane, which made her penchant for savage violence all the more satisfying. All the same, while she had certainly saved him again, she had let the attackers leave far too easily.

A few beads of sweat ran down the electromancer’s forehead as he looked up at the statuesque redhead. She was magnificent; an image of power, grace, and intelligence covered carefully behind the adorable shucksy dialect from some God-forsaken land. His stomach turned in a mix of reverence, appreciation, and selfish annoyance.

You could have either killed them all, or let me know who hired them. Either way, there’s a chance for me to put an end to this nonsense and figure out who came out to take me.

I mean, shit… I’ll find out who sent them either way, but this will be a hell of a lot tougher.

Rubbing the back of his skull, the depression in his hair from the butt of a pistol reminded him of the absurdly idiotic trap he had walked into. Like a novice, he had failed to vet the area, expecting the abandoned farmland was, in fact, vacant. The wind moved the tall grasses around them in a gentle dance as the aging wizard opted for some much-needed humility.

“You should know by now that my… ahem… ego can run a lot larger than my brain sometimes.” His eyes danced around for Taische, certain the girl wasn’t far from them. The doe-eyed savant was the only girl in the world that Storm would censor himself for.

“I was contacted, contracted, and shipped out here to settle a debt. It’s a long overdue one, a blood-feud that began long before I met you and became all respectable.”

Standing, he brushed the dirt from his knees and straightened his dress clothes, pulling taut the linens and leathers that made him look like the world’s richest ranger. His daggers were tucked neatly in the small of his back, his fingers slicking his hair back against his head. A sheepish grin crossed his face as he eyed Karuka; her wisdom catching the absurdity of his statement.

’Respectable’ my ass. She knows you’re every bit as trustworthy as an old man’s fart. She may have pulled you back towards something that could be described as “human,” but let’s not go crazy.

“Thank you.” His statement was simple, his right toe tucking behind his left ankle as he bowed from a tall stand, one arm across his chest and other extended wide into the warm air. The gesture was dramatic, but perhaps not unwarranted. “I’m sure you’re getting tired of saving my scrawny ass by now.”

Seeking the tree line, he searched briefly. Attila was likely still in the brush, and if the big stallion was, there was really no mystery regarding the location of the little magician with impossible potential.

One more smile as Karuka sized him up, deciding on if she would kill him or kiss him.

“Safe to presume the little one found her pony?”

[Karuka]

Karuka’s jaw dropped in a sort of resigned indignance at Storm’s admission to his purposes at the abandoned Ravenheart Estate. He had walked into an obvious trap like some foolish teenager for what?

The redhead gritted her teeth so hard they threatened to crack, then a long sigh, as sad as it was outraged, escaped through her nose. “I wonder sometimes, what could we have been if yer lust fer...fer violence and vengeance, gold an’ glory, wasn’t more powerful than yer… than what y’ feel fer me.”

She couldn’t call his feelings love, though she had believed it not so long ago. He’d run into a fight that wasn’t his on her behalf, and Karuka hadn’t known what she’d call love if it wasn’t risking one’s own life for someone else’s well-being. But he’d never actually said the words, and now she wondered if it wasn’t simple jealousy, a hoarding of people he viewed almost as possessions. When he slipped back toward the thoughtless hedonism that had defined his own youth and she pulled away, he had become petulant… and possibly even cruel to the one person toward whom she would tolerate no abuse.

She shook her head to forestall anything he could say, sending her red locks flying around her head and shoulders. “If th’ horse an’ th’ girl are t’gether, it best’ve been him that found her. If she’s not where I put her, there’ll be a reckoning. Come. Though she fears y’ an’ is convinced that y’ hate her... or us, she’ll want t’ see that y’ escaped the binds of yer own makin’. After that, what y’ do will be on yer own head.”

[Taische]

Taische sat in the thicket after her mother left her, sulking silently. Taodoine wouldn’t let her wander and she’d rather sit still outside for an hour than have the run of a mere four walls for an entire month. For days her mother had asked her what she wanted to do about the signs she’d seen in the bird flock. DAYS! She, Taische, had led the way. She, Taische, had made the decisions, from which way to go to what to do. And then, at the very last minute, suddenly it was too dangerous!

Dangerous! As if she hadn’t been in the middle of a great battle. As if she hadn’t ducked and dodged from two powerful elemental magic users when they were angry. As if she hadn’t knocked Rayse on his butt! As if she couldn’t have sent Uncle Storm back into the drink! She could have! She had just chosen to back down because maybe one day he could stop hating them if she backed down, and he couldn’t have if she’d carried out her threat.

She could handle herself if it got dangerous. She couldn’t even remember her first staff lesson, and she could barely remember her first magic lesson, they’d been that long ago. And she had a really heavy yo-yo as a weapon, too. She was strong enough to face some danger.

But she’d go crazy if she got locked in a house for a month, so all she could do was pout.

It wasn’t too long into her wait that a horse’s snort and whinny broke through the branches, and the faint clip-clop of hooves stopped just on the other side of the brush. Instinctively, the child ducked deeper into the greenery to hide from any bad guy who might have found her, and the phoenix flattened against his branch with wings outstretched and feathers bristling. His job was to protect his little sister, and nothing was going to get past him.

They both straightened up at the voice that conversed with the horse, and Taische would have stood up if not for Taodoine’s warning hiss. Part of her wanted to burst out of the bushes and tell him he was going to be in trouble if he kept on, and part of her feared what he’d do to her if he caught her on her own. Before she could decide, Storm had decided for her, and left the horse and the woods for the dangerous fields.

With the road silent, except for Attila’s sniffing and searching, Taische crept forward. Her little brown hands burrowed through the bracken until she found herself nose to snout with Storm’s big black stallion, and she kissed his nose before he quite realized he’d reached her.

Attila snorted, backing up a couple of steps in surprise. When he saw the girl properly, he tossed his mane and bobbed his head in a happy greeting, and Taische giggled, starting to come out onto the narrow dirt road.

Taodoine landed between them in an angry orange heap, clacking his beak at the girl and raking his claws through the air to keep her back.

“Ta!” Though irritated, Taische stayed in the bushes so that her pet didn’t tackle her into the clearing. Attila snorted and stomped his agreement with the child’s complaint, but a flap and a grumble from Taodoine explained the situation. Attila thought about it for a moment, looking between the bird and the girl, then in the direction Storm had gone. The muscles along his neck and withers rippled and he let out a low neigh before turning his muzzle to the tender shoots of grass. The matter was settled; Taische couldn’t leave the thicket.

“Ugh!” Taische huffed, foiled. She just wanted to say hello to her horse friend before her uncle got back and they both went away again. A silence pervaded the forest for a moment, and then she shoved some hair out of her face and looked at the phoenix again.

“Okay Ta, mom said that I couldn’t leave the clearing. She didn’t say that Attila couldn’t come in. And even though she didn’t say he could come in, she knows and likes him, because he’s a good horse. So would that be okay?”

Taodoine thought that over, then flapped back up to a branch. Attila looked at Taische, then looked pointedly toward the Ravenheart farm. He also had someone to wait for.

“You can get out when he comes back. There’s an entrance for a horse only just up a bit, if you look. Besides… I have oatmeal cookies.”

The thought of treats and scratches was too much for the horse to resist, so he made his way into the little clearing to spend time with his girl. True to her word, Taische fed him cookies, and an apple, and some carrots, and some of the flowers that she wound into his mane. He even let her stand on his back afterward so that she could reach the bright yellow summer plums that grew wild in the grove. A little teamwork would get them both a sweet treat, and the famously cantankerous horse was canny enough to know when to work with someone, instead of against them.

[Storm Veritas]

The hesitation Storm felt when dealing with Karuka proved well founded. She was a nearly perfect character, but willfully shortsighted when it came to matters of tolerance, understanding, or adaptation. The world was black and white to her, and the greyscale universe within which Storm traveled could just as easily have been the Astral Plane for all she understood it. Moonwing herself could descend down upon them once more and be defeated more easily than she could grasp and process the complexity of a man who wrestled with the demons of human desire. Her words and lack of recognition regarding his affection broke loose some connection that tethered him to any sort of reason. Her words barely finished when he burst out with a frustrated spray of words.

“Enough! Gods, enough! Shit!”

Standing in the tall grasses, Storm’s eyes affixed themselves upon the empty farmhouse, now clearly sun-bleached and abandoned, a totem of broken promises and unfulfilled possibility. There was nothing there for him, although the words of O’Sheean reminded him that perhaps there was nothing for him elsewhere.

You pull away, forcibly separate yourself, thrust that sweet little shit of a kid upon me and get angry when shit goes sideways. Then poison her mind with the affirmation… ‘Yes, Taische, the bad man -MUST- hate you, because there’s no way he’d be mad at the situation otherwise.’

His hands sat on his hips as the breaths came fast and hard; he struggled not to pop off emotionally despite her baiting. Karuka was all but taunting him at this point; short of physically poking him there was little more she could do to force him to lash out. At some point, the strain of managing her broadly swinging attitude proved too much.

“You’re too smart for this blend of bullshit, and you know it. I know you -have- to see it; that the drinks, the throwaway women, the combat… they’re the only outlet I have left.

“I mean, shit… I don’t know ass from elbow on raising a kid, certainly not a magically gifted one with a penchant for stirring up hell and causing chaos. Nevertheless, I did my best to manage her, did my best to care for her, watch for her, and make her feel special. New dress, delicious foods, a day in the city. When things didn’t work, you were quick to cut bait and decide me a failure.”

His breathing fought to race on him, his heart thumping hard against the front of his chest. The wizard’s nostrils flared and fingertips hummed as his body reacted to the sensation of conflict. There was no violence pending, but his frustration, his anger, it was very real. Only the one he loved could hurt him so easily.

“She thinks I -hate- her? Are you f*cking kidding me, Red? Look inside yourself and tell me for a second that you think I’d hesitate a moment to skin any man alive that dare lay hands on her. Hell, I damned near killed the boys that tried to hurt her, and that was while pulling punches in a half-assed street fight. I got angry BECAUSE I cared; if you don’t see that then for all your magic you need to recalibrate those eyes of yours.”

It was likely that she was going to grow as upset at him as he had become, or possible her own words were simple venting. Regardless, he wouldn’t stand for his sacrifice not being recognized.

“And you!! God, Karuka, how do you not see it? How do you not see that EVERY. GODDAMN. THING. I’ve done has been either for or because of you?”

His eyes blazed white in the spite of the bright sun, a fire lit within him that demanded he speak his peace. His temper had been blown, but he would channel it. He would be heard.

“Going back for you in Dheathain. Traveling to that disaster of a city that is Jormungstandt to fight Moonwing. Back over to Corone and through the woods to meet with Seth. Doing my damnedest to take care of that sweet little magical monster of yours. Do you think ANY of that was done for my health, or for the massive windfalls of cash that became them?

“No. Of course not. I did them because of YOU. Because YOU give me purpose, and challenge me, and actually cared for ME, and not just my wallet or my connections. Wherever we’ve traveled, you’ve been an anchor for me. A compass, showing me the path. A lover, and an actual, no-shit, honest-to-God friend.”

His tongue flicked quickly over his lips as he raced, looking down at his toes as he’d been carrying on too long already. He had to finish; she couldn’t interrupt. These were the thoughts he’d practiced in his head a thousand times.

“There are two types of actions I have here in this awful, f*cked up world. The actions I perform for purpose, for my O’Sheean ladies, those are the actions that have a mission behind them. Aside from those, there are just fillers. If I’m not working to build something with you all, then I’m drifting, and looking for action to either fill my pockets or invent some sort of purpose. SOMETHING to give me a reason to move forward. Shit, ANYTHING to keep me from thinking about what you’ve taken away.”

Resigned, exasperated, and exhausted, Storm inhaled deeply as his eyes studied the sparsely seeded grasses that danced between them, indifferent to the outpouring the normally introspective electromancer had just spewed. As the magician finished, the wind whistled through, breaking any silence with an eerie whisper.

[Karuka]

Karuka let the singing wind have its say in their conversation, absorbing Storm’s words and thinking them through. She heard his pain, his frustration. She heard the deep, soul-crushing loneliness that had clamped itself to him like a yoke upon his throat. Her heart ached for him, and in that moment she missed him like a caged bird misses the free sky.

“Y’ can’t think it was easy t’ tell y’ t’ leave, Storm.” Her own voice was quiet, like the summer wind after a raging thunderstorm. “After all we’ve been through t’gether, from th’ time I was barely more than a girl myself…”

She shook her head, an expression more of regret than of rage. “We stayed three days where y’ left us. At any moment, if y’d decided that y’ wanted t’ be a family with me an’ with my so-small, so-willful little girl, we’d have welcomed y’ back. But I needed t’ know that the man who should have been her father would be a father to her. That y’d seen she’s not an easy child t’ handle on her best days, that y’d be ready t’ step up an’ handle it. An’ maybe that wasn’t fair. Maybe I could’ve set y’ up better t’ succeed. Instead, I trusted you. I trusted yer judgment. I trusted you with th’ safekeeping of th’ life I value more than anything in this world or any other.”

Karuka drew in a shaking breath and looked up at the cotton ball clouds rolling across the afternoon sky. “Gods above, Storm! I forgot, fer a day, where I ended an’ you began. That’s my fault, not yers. I took a hard line b’cause I was angry an’ disappointed, an’ b’cause I thought that either y’d come back after a few days, head clear an’ heart ready t’ make us work, or y’d realize that y’ weren’t ready t’ be anything more than a free spirit, unburdened by responsibility. Unburdened by anyone who expected anything of y’. Have y’ any idea how I hurt when y’ never came back? An’ then t’ find out y’d taken up company with a man who’d as soon sell a person as a cow!”

The redhead sighed and her shoulders slumped. “When I heard that, I felt like such a fool. Such a fool t’ hope that y’d grown beyond th’ handsome, lecherous brute I met on th’ boat t’ Fallien so many years ago. But there’s always that one th’ heart can’t let go of, isn’t there? An’ we dare t’ hope fer that one. We dare t’ try.”

She tilted her head to lead him back through the fields and woods to where she’d stashed her daughter. “How are we t’ know how y’ truly feel, Storm, when y’ve shown us yer back so often? Thrice, since we met in Dheathain, y’ left of yer own will. Once, I sent y’ away. But we’ve been dancin’ this dance fer an ay long time, Storm. We meet, we love, we save each other, we part. We can’t keep doin’ this. We need t’ be t’gether, or we need t’ be apart.”

The redhead turned her eyes back to the villainous, heroic electromancer who had meant so much to her over the course of her entire adult life. “D’ y’ dare t’ try, Storm, t’ really make us work? Or shall we part as no more than friends?”

[Storm Veritas]

His hand found the back of his neck, warm and beginning to develop the heat of an early burn as he finished speaking. Pressing tired fingertips into the notches between his spine, he traded glances with the incredibly charming Karuka, the vacant periphery, and his now-dirty shoes as he took a turn to listen. She had let him speak his peace, not interrupting as his temper bubbled right to the surface of his lips before offering her own perspective. With the stain of gunpowder still leaving a fresh scent in his hair, a chance to speak was the least he could give her.

How do you hide such a magnificent brain beneath that ludicrous twang? You’d think you were raised on one of the moons with that outrageous accent.

Despite his entertainment, Storm allowed his tongue to feel the pinch of his teeth as he gritted through and listened to the heartfelt logic of a mother, pleading desperately for the welfare of her beloved girl. Storm and Karuka could allow themselves to bounce between each other forever, but the complicated relationship was unfair and impossible for the child to process.

As the beautiful O’Sheean finished, Storm did something altogether out of character. He stood, placed his hands on his hips, and waited. He sought to choose his words carefully, wholly aware of how important his rebuttal would be. He looked deeply into the glistening aquamarines that shone beautifully within her tanned face, and took one more breath of the humid air before he licked his lips and began.

“I’m not good at it.” His voice wavered slightly as the weight of his words came off his chest. “I’m a terrible role model, an inexperienced caretaker, and probably too foul a human to deserve the warrant to oversee a goddamned chicken, let alone a child.” The wind hummed about him as Karuka’s face began to drop.

The electromancer continued, his chest puffing with a growing confidence as he spoke with a renewed resolution.

“I’m not good, and I know it, which is why I pushed you both away. You’re a perfect mother, and great for that girl. Your instincts are flawless, your judgment beyond reproach, and your history relatively spotless. We both know the warts I bring to the table, which is why I wanted to insulate her from me, to keep her away from the stain I leave on everything I touch.

“But I learned when I watched her that day that even with those warts, there are things I can deliver to Taische. I know I can help her, and there’s nothing I want more.” A smile spread on his face as he noticed Karuka’s eyes open a touch.

“I can teach her from my mistakes. I can teach her the elements that I know, and how to read people. I know the hearts of flawed men, because I have one. Most importantly, I can give her protection better than most. I can give her perspective. I can give her love.”

The last word tripped him a bit as he said it, his hand moving to his stomach as the words emerged. There was no hesitation; there was no second guessing his adoration. Taische had him wrapped around her tiny fingers, just like that damned horse was consumed to her bidding.

“I love that f*cking kid, Karuka, and I love you. You both make me better, even if that’s a light order to fill. Without you, I’m rudderless, and too damned dangerous to keep drifting. Let me drop anchor, and have a purpose to serve. As good as you are for me, I know I can be good for you.”

Too tense, wrap it up.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he smirked, too uncomfortable to avoid breaking the tension of the moment.

“Shit, at the very least, give me a place to spend all this money. Two women seem like a hell of a way to blow a fortune.”

[Karuka]

Karuka laughed. It was a bright sound, made of equal parts surprise and joy. She’d been certain that whatever Storm felt for her and her child, he wouldn’t be able to give up the freedom that let him commit a crime in one nation and then travel to a different country on a whim to do something inadvertently heroic. She hadn’t known how much that life, where he was as free and directionless as a spinning seed in the wind, was wearing on him. But maybe the timing was right, or maybe the people were right. Maybe he was just ready to find someone to call home. Maybe he was ready to root himself.

At the very least, he’d been ready to say that so-short, so-powerful word that she’d been dying to hear from his lips. A large part of her had expected that he never would, or never could.

But that was Storm. Just when she thought she knew him, he’d go and do something utterly surprising. Just when she thought they were done, he’d do something that won her heart all over again. It was one of the things that kept drawing her back to him, however many times they split, however many years passed between the times they saw each other, however badly they fought sometimes. In return, she was a beacon of light in the turbulent sea he cast himself into.

Her arms wrapped around his thin shoulders, and in return, she felt his arms wrap around her waist and back, holding her with a mix of strength and tenderness that Veritas showed no others. Their lips met, sealing their reconciliation with unspoken apologies and binding promises.

“Fortune or famine, we’re fam’ly either way.” She pressed her forehead against his when the kiss broke, savoring the moment. “There are places I want t’ show y’, Storm. Lands far beyond th’ seas y’ know. Maybe we’ll stay there a while, maybe we’ll find other shores. But come. I’ve left Taische alone longer than I really trust her t’ stay put, an’ she’ll find trouble if she wanders far.”

With that, Karuka took her lover by the hand and led him down the western road. With the ambush settled, there was no need for them to stalk through the brush and branches. Besides, if the bounty hunters after Storm’s head decided to come back for him, the last place the redhead wanted to lead them was right into the grove where she’d stashed her child.

Said child was actually right where her mother had left her, popping the poisonous pits out of grape-sized plums and splitting them between Attila and herself. Taodoine had found himself a squirrel to snack on, and neither animal reacted much when Karuka and Storm walked from the road and into the thicket. The phoenix looked up for a second and the horse’s ear twitched, but overall they were far more interested in their treats than in the familiar humans. Unconcerned animals meant an unaware Taische, so her full focus was on keeping her fingers out of the black beast’s mouth while he snagged another bite of fruit from her hand.

[Storm Veritas]

The reception of his outpouring was a welcome, wonderful departure. The wizard was well known for his sharp tongue, but typically hid emotions and genuine feelings behind a wall of sarcasm, cynicism, and wit. He had only poured himself open for Karuka because the stakes had never felt higher, despite the absolute vacuum of physical danger which they found themselves in.

Her kiss was as magical as ever; butter-soft lips met his with an urgent tenderness that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The pressure of her fingertips against him, and the feel of her body beneath his hands were otherworldly, taking him to a higher plane of existence from which he dared not retreat. When she pulled away, only the promise of many such reunions to come satiated his desire to pounce upon her like a plains drave.

Her words, tying him to her “family,” suggested a commitment none had ever offered the adventurer. Despite the primal passion ignited with her kiss, the paternal instinct in him kicked on like a dim campfire, rustled from a pile of stirred embers.

Taische. Probably none too happy to see me these days. Looks like I have some pretty serious fences to mend.

The path Karuka led him down was a simple one; now devoid of further ambush it led quickly to the precocious girl literally allowing the great Attila to eat from the palm of her hand. The metaphor wasn’t lost on Storm, who laughed in spite of himself.

“You fat-assed traitor, Attila! I leave for fifteen damned minutes and your allegiance pivots like a well-oiled weathervane. Don’t think I’ll forget this one!”

The relatively censored choice of words he used came from his throat automatically, a surprise betrayal of his normally vulgar vernacular. Nonplussed, he smiled a politician’s grin as he greeted Taische, whose mixed emotions were worn as clear as the tunic on her back. Mild relief was always offered for the return of her mother, but confusion or discomfort regarding the man who’d not-long-ago chastised her was to be expected.

Break the ice. Make it easy on her.

“Good morning, sunshine! You know, you and your mom should get in the rescue business. Heck, just saving my bony butt could be a cottage industry for you.”

Heck? Butt?! Dial back or she’ll call you out for being disingenuous. You haven’t said “Heck” since before Radasanth had whores.

Squatting down, he looked at the little magician from eye-level, feeling the soreness in his hips creak up at him. Getting old was impossible to forget, given the incessant barrage of reminders.

“Listen, kid. Thank you, and thanks to your mom for coming here. With all the shit we’ve been through already, I’m lucky to be the least mature one in the group. How’d you like to ride Attila back to town with us? I figure even if that damned bird of yours wants to hitch a ride, it will be a break for the big fella, and I could certainly use the exercise.”

[Taische]

Taische bolted to her feet at the sudden voice, pressing close to Attila’s side. The horse looked down at her, not certain why she’d spooked, then took his chance to bury his nose in the small pile of sweet plums she’d left unguarded. From his perspective, he’d told his rider that the child was there; it wasn’t his fault if the hard-headed human hadn’t listened. He was entitled to some time with his favorite tiny human, especially if she had treats for him.

With the massive horse uninterested in her anxiety, the girl glanced at her mother for guidance. Karuka had come up on Attila’s other side to brush the dirty footprints from his saddle, but she didn’t seem concerned about Storm approaching her child. Some of the tension had actually left her back and shoulders, like it only did when she wasn’t the only adult on guard.

So they made up. Her bright blue eyes focused on Storm, noting the fake smile, watching him come down to her level, observing the tension beneath his relaxed body language. He’s never offered to let me on Attila before, because he and mom agreed that he’s too much horse for me to handle. And he’s said two bad words when he might have said three if he was in a good mood, five if he was in a normal mood, and ten if he was in a bad mood. And for Uncle Storm, those aren’t really bad words. What is he doing?

When her “uncle” stopped speaking, Taische looked back up at her mother, looking for further guidance. The horse now had his head pressed into Karuka’s chest so she could scratch behind his ears, easily as happy to be back with the O’Sheean women as Storm was. The redhead looked down at her daughter and gave her a little bit of a smile, and after a moment something clicked in the child’s head.

He’s trying. They’re back together, and he’s trying. Mom is happier when he’s here than when he isn’t. So I should try, too.

Taische took one tentative step forward, then a second, bolder one to close the gap. Her little arms wrapped around his shoulders in a hug, though she did her best to keep her fingers, sticky with the juice of a dozen tiny plums, off of him.

“I missed you, Uncle Storm. Can I really ride Attila?”

“If he letcha stand on ‘im, I doubt he’ll throw y’ if y’ rode him.”

“We were just working together to get the late little plums. It was his idea.”

[Storm Veritas]

The little girl with the big gifts was joining the dance; it was immediately clear to him as she responded with the sweet, high-pitched voice of a child that instinctively drove the dimples deep aside his mouth as a genuine smile spread. Yes, she was acting a bit, but the phrase “Uncle Storm” still hit him with a pleasant reminder that she trusted him, at least to some degree.

But not a soul on this foul, f*cked up earth trusts me as much as that horse trusts her. Gods, it took me a week to break that big bastard enough to ride, and months to win him over for good. She’s owned him from the jump; it’s always been so easy for her.

The contractor - whomever it was that set him up in the first place - was distant out of his mind now. Vengeance would be a long time coming; he knew not the messenger nor the real author of the letter that sent him off on into the snare Karuka had rescued him from. Here, with the sun on his face and his de facto family beside him, the wizard allowed the heft of his anger to fall off his shoulders like a heavyweight cloak.

After striding only a few minutes, the euphoria of rekindled love was extinguished by the sour, acrid taste of reality. For all their frolicking, the sun hadn’t yet set on the danger before them. The tall, thin traveler balled a fist against his chest, thumping it gently to tamp a brutal reflux that had awakened his inner cynic.

Shit. No gold at the end of this rainbow. Not yet.

“There will be more, I’m sure.” His words were directed at Karuka, but not beneath the level which would keep his words silent from the girl. Taische needed to hear it, to understand the situation. “This wasn’t any type of accident, and I’m sure as shit that they didn’t walk me in here to have me roll back into town. We won’t be able to be that careless, not now.”

He stopped, noticing the lithe and athletic heroine stop beside him as Taische rode forward. Her little head had popped up as he spoke, but she didn’t turn about to view him as she continued to rub the muscled, ebony neck of her great equine friend. She had probably heard enough scare tactics in her time to not be bothered by new ones, as horrific as it all sounded. The stamp-swish of Attila’s hard iron shoes on the gravel road moved ahead as the little magician marched ahead to nowhere.

“Can’t hit town. I’m sure the ones you released got word back quick; the pros are probably shitting bricks and hiding, but they could just as easy be setting a new trap for me. Well, make that us.”

The electromancer’s chin felt rough beneath the soft skin of his fingertips, a beard beginning to peek through what had recently been a clean facade. It seemed no matter how hard he tried, the ugliness would keep coming back for him. He wouldn’t let that same ugliness spill back over the O’Sheeans, not so long as the blood still fired through his veins.

I’m going before you ladies, that’s for goddamned sure.

[Karuka]

Karuka’s eyes followed her daughter, though she listened intently to Storm. The little girl was a very inexperienced equestrian, and even though Attila liked her, he was a gigantic horse who liked to test even the most skillful of riders. Taische hadn’t even learned to move with her mount yet.

“I’d much prefer t’ not go t’ Radasanth, if I’m honest.” Her lips curved into a frown. “If we cut south an’ east, we’ll be int’ th’ plains by dawn th’ day after t’morrow. We could go t’ Jadet, catch a ship t’ Fallien, then head east from there.”

Storm nodded. If Corone wasn’t safe for him and his ladies, he’d rather be anywhere else. If they could be gone in a week, so much the better.

“Taische!” Karuka’s voice cut the distance like a knife, calling out to the equally untamed reddish-black head in the shadow-dappled distance and the midnight-black horse she rode. “Bring ‘im back, we’re goin’ th’ other way.”

“Okay!” Taische leaned back and pulled on the reins like she’d been told. “Stop, Attila. We have to turn around.”

The horse snorted at the inexperienced and slightly rough hands that pulled on his mouth, even though he’d claimed the bit for his own almost before the girl was in the saddle. He shook his mane to express his displeasure, sending a few blue and purple flowers flying. The movement traveled down his powerful back and gave the little girl astride him a jolt that almost sent her to the ground. Only her hands quickly burying themselves into his mane kept her in the saddle.

“That wasn’t nice, Attila,” she pouted, shoving a thick mass of hair out of her eyes. “I’m just learning. I haven’t ridden a horse before, you know. Now come on. We have to go back.” Her little hands tugged the reins again, attempting to turn the horse around, but he just started walking backwards. It was more a case of the horse being obstinate and playing his idea of a joke than complete disobedience, but it frustrated Taische nonetheless. She pulled harder to the right, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“Mom! How do I get him to turn?”

“How d’ y’ get him t’ do anything, wee bit?” Karuka leaned on her spear, watching her daughter try to handle a beast twenty times her size.

“I don’t have any more oatmeal cookies, and he knows it! He’s doing this on purpose!”

Karu chuckled and shook her head. Given time, she had no doubt that Taische and Attila would move as one creature, with one mind, no language needed between them. But that wouldn’t be while they still walked on Coronian soil. No, they would be far away before the tiny little clairvoyant had enough mastery of herself to master the horse.

“Attila, tar ar. Uimh nÃ*os mó ag magadh.” She didn’t raise her voice, but her tone suggested no room for disobedience or delay. The horse’s ears perked and he looked strangely at Karuka, then turned around and trotted back to her and Storm. He made sure to give Taische a bounce with each step, just to hammer home his point.

Karuka rubbed the stubborn horse’s nose when he reached them. “Come now. We’ve many miles t’ go t’day, an’ y’ve a precious burden t’ bear.”

[Storm Veritas]

Watching Karuka and Taische work with the mighty stallion was a sight to behold, and never failed to humble him. He had worked to break the great horse, fighting like hell to assert himself atop the great black horse and convince the mighty beast that he, the little human, was dominant. It had taken days, along with a full layer of skin sacrificed off his entire backside to get there. These women treated the horse like a child, scolding him and speaking that absurd vernacular that he responded to with a raised ear and a twitching tail.

Magic. It’s got to be part of their nature-based magic. That dumb shit of a horse hasn’t ever shown half a brain to listen to a man in his entire natural life. Either they get through magically, or he has some predisposition to those ladies.

In either event, he was happy to see the little one happy, and the mother pleasantly in control. They were still moments from the wake of the great ambush, but couldn’t feel more comfortable or secure here in their element, away from Radasanth and any awaiting ambushes.

“You’re a natural, Taische. I don’t know what type of witchcraft you and your mom work with, but it does wonders with that god-forsaken horse. He’s happier than a pig in shit with you up there, little one.”

He wasn’t sure precisely where Karuka was directionally leading them; the sun had raised to full height and the shadows had all but disappeared beneath them. The smell of the long-grained grasses was a sort of pleasant, flour-like scent, and the whistling winds whispered the suggestion to stay, relax, and think things out.

But we can’t sit idly, and you damned well know it. The men that ambushed you will be waiting in Radasanth, and it won’t be long before they send a few friends to watch the ports. She knows it just as well as you do; may as well come out with it.

“So we’re not heading to Radasanth; not sure if you want to head back into the forests, take your chances in Concordia, or move off the island altogether. I’m more than due for a vacation from this place, if you have any ideas.”

Except Salvar. What a f*cking dump.

They walked for a bit, small talk and jokes being the order of the day. The graying wizard produced some dried meats from his satchel, offering a bit of jerky to the ladies, who took small bites and tried not to visibly grimace at the sight of it all. The beautiful, ugly orange bird tried to pull more from him, and he graciously flipped a few small bits in the air to the phoenix. Taodoine obliged, squawking some chirpish, asinine sound that forced a smile from the electromancer.

[Taische]

“Attila only lets us tell him what to do because you told him he should, Uncle Storm.” Taische’s feet played in the shortened stirrups. “He knows you’re his human. He’s a smart horse. And I don’t think he’d let me ride him if you hadn’t put me up here, even though we’re friends. He’s very picky about who he lets on his back.”

The horse bobbed his head and snorted, as if in agreement with his tiny rider. He might have simply been in agreement with the easy pace and the cool, clear weather, but if so he had picked an interesting time to show it.

“Where are we going, mom?”

Karuka rolled her shoulders and whistled to Taodoine to keep up. The phoenix was playing in the sky, intent on chasing down the puffy clouds that floated high above. “I thought we’d board a boat an’ see if we can’t catch th’ risin’ sun.”

Taische frowned for a second. The horizon fled every time they got near; people only met the goddess of dawn at home in old myths. How could they catch the rising sun? They’d have to go east forever to…

We have to go east. We have to go east.

“Are we going home?!” She didn’t wait for an answer. “We’re going home! We’re going home, Ta!” The phoenix warbled at his human sister’s excitement, landing gently on Attila’s big rump.

“We can show Uncle Storm our house! You’ll like our house, Uncle Storm! It’s all big and made of sandstone and sweet woods, and it’s so big that you could sleep in a different bedroom every night for almost a market cycle! You’ll probably just sleep in mom’s room, but you could. It has to be that big because sometimes we need to have village elders over for meetings, and the furthest ones have to walk a whole day just to get to us. And we have a great big garden that has a little stream through it, and the jungle comes right up to the rear wall. We can show you the jungle! But you shouldn’t wear boots in the jungle, because a nasty fungus will turn your feet yellow and then make them rot off. We’ll get you the right shoes. And the right clothes. I know Corone is cold, but you will die in Jalaan if you wear your normal clothes. You’ll just melt into soup and then the cats will drink you.”

Karuka laughed at her daughter’s description of the tropical heat. “Maybe we’ll see if there’s another land that’ll call t’ us when we set foot on its soil. Maybe we’ll go home. But if we do, y’ know that th’ Duke will be on me t’ give y’ away.”

Taische rolled her eyes. “Ohtli is only just turning eight. He can’t be formally engaged until he’s thirteen, and can’t get married until he’s fifteen. That’s like forever. And besides, he’s going to want to marry Yolotli by then. You’ve already told Duke Tlacalel that.”

“Y’ know he’ll have none of that, though.”

“Doesn’t matter what he’ll have or won’t have.” Taische patted Attila’s neck and raked her hair out of her face. “You said it would be wrong for you to choose for me, so it’s wrong for him to choose for his son.”

“That’s th’ way I b’lieve, wee bit. It’s what I think is best fer you. He’s also tryin’ t’ do his best fer his son. That’s somethin’ y’ll understand someday, when y’ve a little one of yer own.”

Karuka didn’t add that he was also trying to do his best for his bloodline and his people; a Duchess with powers on Taische’s level and future heirs that had even a fraction of that power would strengthen Jalaan exponentially. But Taische was not fit to be the broodmare for a man of power, not when she could be so much more on her own.

[Storm Veritas]

The excitement offered by the beaming little prodigy was quickly doused by a bit of cold water. Taische appeared to have been tapped to become a princess, a duchess, or some other form of royalty that Storm didn’t fully understand, but seemed wholly disappointed by the process. Unless things were different in their homeland, royalty was generally accompanied with riches, power, and prestige. While the reintroduction of the lovely O’Sheeans had reminded him that there were more important things, money and power certainly solved more problems than they created.

Doesn’t want to be a princess? Be waited on hand and foot? Never worry about money? Gods, does the little prince have an older sister?

He smiled at the situation as he strolled, dimples sprouting about the sides of his mouth as genuine happiness washed over him. He was hot, sweaty, and smelled. He had been held at gunpoint and likely found his face back up on the wall at the post office. Still, in spite of his soreness and physical misery, a sort of contention would not be settled at the thought of seeing this sandstone and sweetwood home. The teenager in him took a gratuitous leer at the taut, round bottom of his athletic love, and longed for an exploration of all these bedrooms that little Taische was babbling about.

“Taische, kiddo, you don’t strike me as much the princess type, but wealth and security are not the worst curses a girl can suffer. Either way, I need to see this palace of yours; I didn’t realize I was saddling up with a sugar mama in this whole situation.”

Another smile towards the beautiful, olive skinned Karuka, who laughed a bit in spite of her knowing much better than he did regarding her child’s welfare. They both knew that magic was the real curse that the little one suffered, which would terrify the ungifted that an un-checkable power had assumed control over their little fiefdoms.

There was a brief quiet as the trio walked, some thought and introspection of respective situations. Lives were taking dramatic, dynamic turns; the entire framework of their plans had just changed courses entirely. Chatter and small talk were expended quickly; the magnitude of this collaboration settled upon them. There were concerns that the lithe wizard had around such the logistics of their plan, but such details could be overcome with improvisation and simple cash.

“Let’s charter from Yanbo Harbor, north of Jadet and Capitol City. Whomever tried to set me up will probably try to send a couple clowns down to intercept me at the bigger ports. We can bribe a fisher for a private shot to Scara Brae, then get a better ride to your home from there.”

Attila brayed at this, as if the big pile of muscle and anger understood the strategy offered. The concept of fitting the big horse onto an inferior ship didn’t sit well, and Storm hoped that some combination of whiskey or O’Sheean witchcraft would be sufficient to sedate the ebony monstrosity enough to ride with relative comfort.

Might be a long ride for you, big fella, but sure as shit I’m not leaving you behind.

Together, Storm Veritas and the O’Sheean ladies continued to march eastward as the sun climbed directly above them. The walk would take them a good stretch of time; that their feet, backs, and stomachs were largely content remained critical. Delaying to rest, recover, and give those ambushers time to regroup was completely out of the question. A few drops of sweat ran coolly down the outside of his hands as he flicked them away from his fingertips; this would be a difficult march for the fair-skinned magician. A few hundred yards before them, a handful of large carrion birds swirled and searched the ground from the comfort of great elevation.

Oh, screw you relentless bastards. I’m not going to make food for you any time soon.

[Taische]

Karuka tilted her head, considering Storm’s suggestion and the reasoning behind it. They could catch a ship out of Jadet and go directly to Dheathain without need for any delay; taking a little fishing boat to Scara Brae instead both exposed them to another potential source of danger - putting Storm in any city when he was feeling bold, or introducing Taische to a new environment was just begging for trouble - and it kicked up a nervous feeling in the redhead’s stomach. The great sailing ships were so small and so fragile compared to the ocean’s wrath; tiny scows seemed like they’d tip over at the slightest wave.

Maybe her reservations came from a traumatic boating accident when she was a very small child, but the Tenalach liked to believe she’d left that in her past shortly after her first meeting with Storm. More likely, she told herself, she just didn’t like being out of contact with the earth. Anyone would get uncomfortable at the thought of having their hearing taken away for even a few days, let alone a few months.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable takin’ a tiny wee boat. They might be fine fer a day out in shallow water, but on the open sea? We’d sink if th’ horse spooked, much less if th’ water got rough. I’d not be opposed t’ seein’ Scara Brae again, though… if th’ both of y’ promised t’ behave yerselves.”

She fixed both her lover and her daughter with a stern look, half forgetting that trouble followed her just as closely as it did them. A mere decade earlier, she’d have disregarded many potential dangers, but motherhood had changed her.

“We could get a good ship out of Scara City, in any event. Queen Valeena owes me a very large, very old favor. Charter t’ th’ east isn’t askin’ much.” At the age of sixteen - a lifetime ago - she’d both retrieved an ancient Scarabrian artifact and had revealed a traitor in the Queen’s Court. She hadn’t thought of that debt in many years, but it would make for an easy way to get where they needed to go. And just maybe, if Storm was lucky, he’d get a rare chance to see her dressed in something other than her travel and combat vlince.

“I always behave myself.” Taische stood up in the stirrups to give her buttocks a rest from the horse’s constant bouncing. “Sometimes I just don’t behave myself the way you want me to.”

The little girl looked down at her mother and Storm. “I think we should get a bigger boat out of a bigger city. That way we can walk Attila around and he won’t get so cranky. And besides, even if the bad guys show up, they’ll only be ready to maybe take on Uncle Storm. They won’t be ready for all three of us.”

“Y’ mean they wouldn’t be ready fer th’ both of us. There’s no way in th’ TÃ*r fo Thuinn that I’m lettin’ you get in on th’ fightin’.”

“But-!”

Karuka’s eyes pierced her daughter like a pair of frosty spears, and Taische dropped back into the saddle with a huff. Just because there were few individuals in Althanas that could challenge the nine-year-old in raw power didn’t mean she could challenge so much as half the world in wisdom, and the older O’Sheean wasn’t about to let her child challenge decisions about her wellbeing.

“Yanbo’s a large enough harbor t’ have passenger ships leavin’ fer Scara Brae ev’ry few days. We can have Taodoine scout ahead b’fore we enter town t’ see if there’ll be a ship goin’ th’ day we arrive. We can make camp outside th’ town if not. Does that sound reasonable, Storm?”

[Storm Veritas]

The aging wizard walked and listened, an annoying twitch in his foot as a small pang began to walk up and around his arch. He had probably stepped on a rock, and his shoes hadn’t done their job. As he listened to the ultra-powerful heroine, it struck him that these nuisance injuries hit him far more frequently, and that trend wasn’t likely to change course. If age had saddled him with physical idiosyncratic peccadillos, it had at least granted him the wisdom of knowing when to shut up. His hand rubbing the hot skin on the back of his neck, he managed a smile as he craned his head over towards the emerald-eyed magicians.

“It’s reasonable enough, we can roll Yanbo to Scara Brae. I agree we can’t exactly pop Attila into a dinghy, the poor bastard will fall out if the high winds hit us. I hadn’t factored in the bird as a scout.”

He caught the peculiar, curious phoenix peering at him, the red hooked beak angled toward the horizon as Taodoine appeared to listen. Storm wasn’t specifically certain what the damned thing even was, but the fiery flier had proven himself loyal and helpful on more than one occasion.

“It’s schedules I worry about. Charters that take names and log passengers, anything that sails into formal ports; can’t trust a damned one of them. They won’t let us on or off without accounting for our identifications, which could feed well into whomever set me up and is likely expecting me to get out of town. Taodoine is gifted, but if they know where we’re coming, he’ll never spot people waiting calmly inside the local pub with an eye on the shoreline.”

The gallop-clip of Attila’s steady hooves on hard packed earth continued to drone beside him, with the inquisitive prodigy listening intently. Attila and Taische presented two problems; the vile electromancer refused to put the girl at risk, and knew that the horse couldn’t swim for a shit.

“I think our move will be to hire one of those formal charters, and then bribe the captain to land us off-port. We certainly have plenty of options to drive such a coercion. Those boats sail all day port to port, and never veer off course. We have him pull a hundred feet from shore, and dump his precious cargo in shallow waters.

“...way I see it, if there are people waiting for us, they’ll have to come at me in the open, not bottlenecked on the boat. Good luck to the damned fools that try to take me alive at that point.”

It wasn’t perfect, but it would likely be good enough. The salt air made its presence known with a warm, briny odor that filled his nose. They’d made their way to the shoreline, and it wouldn’t be long from here to Yanbo.

[Karuka]

Even with the course altered to reach Yanbo instead of Jadet, they had at least a day and a half of travel left to reach the coast. They had managed to stumble across a brackish marshland, and with the wind blowing in from the south, it did smell much like the sea.

Karuka led them around areas with soft ground; a blind monkey could have followed the tracks of a man in expensive shoes, a bare-footed woman, and a massive horse if they went through the mud. They traveled until darkness was already upon them, then set up camp in a sheltered nook in a dense copse of trees. A rock wall reinforced one edge of their campsite, making it highly defensible if any sort of pursuit came at them in the night. The redhead doubted that any of Storm’s pursuers would hunt them down so soon, given how far they’d traveled and their distance from a road, but she didn’t know if whatever it was tracking her and her daughter was gaining on them.

Taische practically fell from the saddle as soon as they stopped. Riding Attila was fun, but her body wasn’t used to the demands of it, and she was sore all over.

“Find somethin’ t’ give him a brushin’ with while yer sortin’ out kindling an’ wood fer th’ fire.” Karuka smiled at the incredulous look Taische gave her. Just because the child was aching didn’t mean she was exempt from camp chores. “He took care of you all day, y’ have t’ take care of him, too.”

She looked at Storm. “D’ you want t’ set up camp an’ I’ll take th’ bird t’ find some food, or d’ you want t’ hunt while I set up here?” He wasn’t exempt from camp chores, either.

[Storm Veritas]

Storm smiled, a bit of self-awareness present as Karuka used a little less subtlety than she might normally offer. It was good; a certain frame of normalcy in her direct message. There was comfort and trust in candor; there was no need for false pretenses. Shadows were just starting to grow a bit longer now, but the wizard felt an ache from the soles of his feet up through his calves. It was wise to start setting up camp from a defensible position.

“You can let the bird rest for a bit; I’ll take care of the food out here. If you can get a good dry patch out here, I suspect four hands are better than two at setting up the tents.”

Hopefully it’s “tents,” at least. Would love to get that little one down and feel mama’s mile’s worth of legs wrapped around me after this bitch of a day.

The soil around the brackish marsh was soft, yielding to tall reeds about him as standing water stood in spots. It was a short walk of maybe three minutes before he found his ideal locale. He had hunted in waters like this before all about the world; small standing pools were about the easiest eating that a man like him could find. With both feet ankle deep in cloudy, mud-hued water, Storm lowered his palm beneath the surface of the swampy waters and unleashed a mid-sized pulse of electric energy. A soft sizzling, bubbling sound was followed by that all-too familiar whiff of ozone, and two small fish and a long snake floated lifelessly to the surface.

Bingo, bango, bongo, bitches! Easy eats, courtesy of the electric chef.

He pulled a long, thin reed from the water, satisfied by its sharp point and straight nature. The two fish were on the smaller side, barely longer than his hand. Both were already stiff as bricks, as he effortlessly pushed the reed behind the eyes and out on each side. The eye sockets made fine hanging hooks, and the dead fish were in no position to argue. Pushing them down the length of the reed, the tall adventurer fixed his focus on the dead eel, or snake, or whatever the hell it was. He strode twice to it, his third step knee deep and just about reaching the floating protein.

“WHORE!”

With footing less sure than butter-coated ice, Storm felt his shoe slide helplessly beneath him, his entire heretofore dry clothes being dunked in muddy, lukewarm, very suspect and salty water. He managed to keep his head and the reed above the water level, grabbing the serpent as he raced to stand, his tailored and clothes now free of sweat but freshly treated with a thick spread of mud, floating weeds and general debris. One shoe was hopelessly lost in the deep, opaque and unforgiving mud; the food well secured but his general demeanor miserable.

Ten minutes later, the wizard walked the hundred yards or so to the campsite, dripping with a green-brown slime and a sneer. A burned splotch of black on his shirt marked where he incorrectly hoped he could flash-dry the clothing with his electrical capabilities. It was obvious by the look on both of the female faces turned to him that their ability to suppress laughter would be stretched.

[Karuka]

A hundred yards is not a long distance, and both mother - setting up the little, low tent that she and her daughter shared when the weather was foul before working on Storm’s larger tent that reeked of pipe smoke - and child - who was roaming a little bit afield to find sticks, branches, and small logs - managed to get the majority of their snickering out of the way before the soggy Storm came squelching his way back into camp.

Taische turned her face away when she saw him, pretending to work very hard to build the fire. The corners of Karuka’s mouth twitched up slightly, but she approached Storm. “Y’ made quick work of it. Here. I’ll take care of those, an’ y’ get cleaned up. Maybe I should hunt from now on, though. Th’ big tent’s a bit heavy t’ deal with myself.”

It was a lie he’d see through just as easy as he could tell a lie, but it was also one he might well choose to believe. The truth was that he was physically stronger than she was, and the extra reach his height and longer arms gave him was helpful in pitching the tents. The other truth was that she could often find choicer meals than fish and snakes fresh from the bog water.

Karuka sat down to prepare the food while Storm went to clean up and change clothes, and Taische took a handful of kindling and blew on it, igniting it as casually as a normal child would blow out a candle. “Mother,” she began in Gaelic, “why…?”

“Because sometimes we tell little lies to help the people we love feel better about themselves. If you acknowledge the qualities someone else has that you admire or that are better than yours, they’re much more willing to help you in the ways they feel noticed. Meanwhile, if you tell them they’re bad at a job, they’re not going to want to help at all. And he wasn’t bad at this job. He’s just not got grip in those smooth-soled shoes of his.” Karuka peeled the snake’s skin from its long, muscular body.

“We haven’t had him help much before. Why now?” The little girl stuck the tinder beneath the kindling, encouraging the little tongues of flame to lap the twigs and sticks she’d set up.

“For one thing, Taische Asthore, he does the majority of setting up camp when we stop in cities. Yes, it only takes gold to hire rooms and buy food, but it’s been his gold. It’s only mine when we’ve been without him. Remember that. I am not the only one who provides. For another thing… Storm and I have been together, apart, together, apart, since many years before I had you. Before now, I had us setting up camp, hunting, everything except what he offered to do, because I expected that he’d be gone any day. But the last time, days turned to weeks, then weeks to months. He left only because I sent him away. We’re keeping him this time, for a long time. Maybe forever, if intent becomes reality.”

The redhead skewered pieces of meat onto sticks so they could roast. “When everyone works together, it bonds them tighter. It makes it so that you’ve helped this person, and they’ve helped you. You forget how many ways you rely on each other, your lives are so tightly interwoven. For that reason, I’m treating him as one of us now, instead of as a lover who might be gone the next time the moon turns.”

Taische frowned slightly, but just got up so she could start brushing down the horse.

[Storm Veritas]

Watching the whole operation move was impressive; he moved into the creeping darkness behind some less-muddy grasses to unearth what he could from his satchel. Decision making was difficult here; his shirt and pants would be soaked in near-perpetuity as they were, and he didn’t want the bog-smelling sour mud to contaminate the entirety of a pack that served him so faithfully. He found a pair of light pants that would service him for now, leaving his torso uncovered for now as he found a few thick reeds to suspend near the fire as accelerated air-drying.

This barefoot business is for the goddamned birds.

Silently, he marched back into the marsh from where he found the evening’s dinner. With the soft glow of lightning buzzing from his outstretched palm, he found the footprint and delicately - almost with impossible care - retrieved the lost shoe. It was more mud than shoe at this point, but it would help him down the road. It sickened him to wash the thing clear of mud in salty water nearby, knowing well that the leather would never be the same.

Does Taische know that these shoes cost me three hundred f*cking crowns? Lucky she didn’t laugh…

His temper began to fade as he washed mud from his forearms and returned to camp, which Karuka and her kin had set up artfully. A few downed logs were already dried around a robust, nearly smoke-free fire, and sitting by the fire, his skin began to warm and dry immediately. They were good teammates, and better people; certainly better than he had expected to travel near. It took a moment for the wizard to catch the prodigy staring at his stomach.

“They say each scar tells a story, kid. I’ve got plenty of stories, but not for now.”

Embarrassed, Taische averted her eyes, but the thin electromancer bore no shame or anger at the leers. His body was athletic and looked younger than his years would suggest, but his skin was objectively ugly. Many long, trailing scars dragged a map of battles lost across his frame, marking him in perpetuity for his stories. Sitting up, he never felt those wounds anymore, and realized that with the luxury of life, he could reinvent those stories to suit him far more favorably.

The snake meat was well prepared, and he watched as the two sets of gleaming white teeth carved through them as the two ladies each devoured their share. The O’Sheeans were efficient, precise, and generous, but the lack of hesitation to show their animalistic sides provided a small window into their capacity for carnage. The “delicate flowers” facade was simply that, and the adventurer smiled as he chewed through his own gamey bites of protein.

“Well done. Of course, had I known we’d be chased half across the goddamned country and have to cook barbecue snake, I woulda packed us some salt. Shortsighted there - that’s on me…”

His joke produced a laugh from the little one, although it was likely the overt swear that he knew would generate a glare from Karuka. She knew his mouth well, for better and worse, and still would try to keep it under wraps. This was a benign barb he had offered, after all. The three sat by the fire as they began to pick clean the shrapnel of fish and snake alike, sharing a canteen of water that was a fixture within that lovely satchel. Seated closely, Storm produced a second flask - a far more interesting drink, and shielded it from Taische behind the small wall of crackling fire. The small steel cask was tapped gently against the shin of his love, as he looked up at the unpredictable savant with a wink.

[Taische]

Karuka rolled her eyes a little at Storm’s game. He knew that Taische drank new beer when they stayed in towns; it was safer by far than the often-infected water or even cow’s milk, which sometimes carried consumption. The little girl had yet to develop anything but disgust for hard liquor, which burned her mouth and tasted sour and bitter all at once. Even so, the redhead palmed the flask and took a quick sip before passing it back.

“We’ve a little salt. I rubbed some int’ th’ meat along with a few herbs from around camp, but if y’d like a bit more salt, y’ can have some.” She took another bite of meat, then poked into the fire with a stick to turn some sizzling roots.

“I’ve got them.” Taische reached into the fire with her hands, turning them easily with her fingertips. She didn’t turn into a mass of boils and burnt flesh like an ordinary person might; she didn’t even seem to notice that the fire was warm.

“Mom, will I have scars when I grow up, like you and Uncle Storm?”

Karuka shrugged. “No tellin’, wee bit. Y’ll certainly see yer share of fights, but yer already learnin’ how t’ heal yerself. By th’ time yer old enough that we jus’ let y’ hold yer own, y’ might well be able t’ heal as fast as y’ get hurt.”

“If I get scars, I want ones like your fancy ones.” Taische pulled her hand out of the fire and went back to her food.

Karuka frowned. Her “fancy scars” were patterns engraved into her flesh by very powerful, very painful magic. “Y’ might get those, even if I hope y’ won’t. If a wild enough land chooses y’ at a time when yer about t’ die, it puts its mark on y’. Those’ll stay with y’, even if y’ heal. But if th’ land is strong enough an’ yer too weak, it’ll keep y’.”

Taische frowned, thinking about that. “So you’ve almost died four times?”

Karuka snorted. “I’ve almost died more times’n I can count. I’ve been chosen three times. Dheathain put two marks on me at once. But y’ don’t choose yer scars, Taische. They choose you.”

The girl frowned a little, then shrugged and seemed to forget the conversation. “I think there are bears around here. I saw a paw print while I was getting fire wood. It had five fingers, and it was as big as both of my hands stretched wide.” She held up her hands, stretched out with the thumbs touching, to demonstrate how big the print was.

“That’s good. Healthy forests have bears. We’ll not leave any meat fer them t’ smell, an’ they’ll leave us alone.”

“Oh!” Taische hopped up. “If we find a baby bear on its own, can I keep it? You have Ta, Uncle Storm has Attila, so I should have a pet, too. I can take care of it!”

“No, y’ may not have a bear cub. Taodoine thinks I’m his mother, Attila is a cantankerous, dangerous beast of a stallion, but he’s still a horse. A bear b’longs in th’ wild. If we get a pet fer you, it’ll be something that b’longs with people - or something that chooses you itself. But not a bear. Not at this time of year.”

Karuka stood up and stretched. “I’ll go get th’ worst of th’ mud out of yer clothes, Storm. It’ll only take a few minutes.” She ruffled Taische’s hair and moved into the brush.

[Storm Veritas]

With the dark of night came the cold, and the travelers were grateful for the fire. Karuka had left for only a moment when the shirtless old adventurer leaned forward, rubbing his hands near the fire. The mud quickly dried and flaked away; in its wake was a pair of powdered, roughened mitts that had clearly seen better days, years, and decades.

“I’m getting old fast, kid.” He smiled a half-cocked grin towards the fire as the orange licks lit a falsely sinister gaze upon his face. “Your mom’s been the star of the show for a while, now, but if I don’t start taking care of myself a little better, you’ll leave me in the dust, too.” The echo of the oaken flavor of whiskey kicked up his throat with a small, silent, undetectable belch. His body agreed.

Don’t be too quick to disagree, kid. Feel free to chime in.

Taische remained a bit withdrawn with her mother away, perhaps feeling a bit predated upon by the miserable older man. Their adventures in Radasanth had not precisely gone according to plan, and their shared frustration in the day lead to a patient nervousness.

“Not that old…” the wise little prodigy proffered. “I mean, it’s not like you’re FORTY or anything.” Her face remained unblanched, unapologetic, and unaware of the implication.

“Yes, another… hell… year and change for that, I guess. I’m a regular sprite about these parts. Hell, maybe you can teach me some tricks with that yo-yo and I can be the cooler old guy.” His inflection and tone made it clear that he was joking; finally the cute young magician succumbed to a smile.

“Listen, I know I’m not your dad. You’re probably smarter in a lot of ways than I am already, right? I don’t care if you call me Uncle, Storm, or ‘hey asshole’ - well, so long as your old lady’s not around - but I want you to be comfortable with me.”

The girl looked up at him finally, her mother’s beautiful eyes nearly glowing with innocence and a benevolent brand of lethality.

“But for the record, I know that you’re a kid, and while I was mad, it was a short-term type of anger back in the city. You’re okay to be pissed at me, too, but when you come around I’m here to help, kid. Fair enough?” His voice had grown remarkably smooth and diplomatic. He could almost feign a hint of paternal instinct in the whole exchange.

Sheepishly, Taische returned her eyes to her feet, her cheeks popping a bit rounder with a smile she wished to disguise. Storm wouldn’t get the satisfaction of penance, but progress had been made.

Breaking the silence only a moment or two later, the spectacularly beautiful Karuka returned, her lithe and athletic form cutting a striking silhouette against the darkening sky behind her. The wizard’s mind grew very dark in a fun form and way before she tossed a clean, wet shirt to him. The tunic landed across his lap, literally pouring cold water on his excitement.

Leaning forward, he wrung out the last free fluid from the shirt, batting droplets of water off his leggings in the process. He looked above to a star-riddled sky, the brilliant white pearls against a sea of perfect black foretelling a night devoid of rain. He propped the tunic over a three-point pop stand of reeds to dry near the fire, looking forward to the scent of campfire on his shirt for days to come. As he turned back, Karuka was moving into the tent he would share, rolling her side away from him and motioning for her miniature version to enter the tent right beside her. A quick glance showed two fully separate bedrolls in his tent, with plenty of real estate between the sleeping couple.

I guess that answers my other question… Guess that cold water came at the right time.

[Taische]

Taische frowned into the fire after Storm spoke. He thought their day in Radasanth was the problem? Was he completely forgetting about Lounton? Whatever had happened in Radasanth, when her mom had sent Storm away, was between the two of them. Yes, he’d gotten mad at her. He’d failed her numerous times. But she’d been deliberately pushing the boundaries, and she knew it. He shouldn’t have ever crossed her path in Lounton. That was where the damage was done.

Even so…

“You’re not my dad now,” she acknowledged. “But my father has no place for people in his life, especially not a child, so he’s nothing more than blood. Blood doesn’t make family, Uncle Storm. I know that and I won’t even be ten until spring is almost summer. So maybe, if you stay and make sure I grow up okay, you’ll become my dad.” She looked at him, at the scars and the wrinkles and the dark expression. “But if you want to stick around, maybe you shouldn’t breathe so much poison. It’ll kill you, someday.”

Storm didn’t have a chance to respond before her mother returned from the rushes to order her to bed.

“But!”

“Don’t argue, Taische. We’re makin’ fer th’ coast with all haste in th’ mornin’, an’ we leave with as much light as th’ sun’ll give us.” Karuka’s head turned pointedly to the little tent, and Taodoine hopped to its entrance, looking to his girl.

“I’m always awake at dawn anyway!” Taische protested.

Karuka raised an eyebrow. “Fine then. Don’t sleep. Get int’ yer bedroll an’ count t’ a hundred.”

“Which lang-”

“You choose. Get in.”

Taische grumbled and stomped into her tent. She wasn’t a baby to be sent to bed, but she was nearing the end of Karuka’s patience. As any child with a mother knows, that’s a dangerous place to be.

[Karuka]

A moment of silence passed after that, then Karuka crouched to start banking the fire. “She’s exhausted. She’ll not even make it t’ thirty.” A glance at Storm told her everything she needed to know about his disappointment.

“D’y’ think we’d not wake her? An’ even if we didn’t, d’y’ think y’d be up an’ movin’ quick enough in th’ mornin’?” The redhead brushed some hot ash from her hands.

Storm leaned in a little bit, trying to catch the dying fire’s last flicker of warmth. “I thought it was because I’ve been a bit…” his hand waved back and forth, trying to wordlessly express his behavior without words.

“Inconstant?” Karuka flipped her long braid over her shoulder, getting it out of the way. “We’ve been lovers in fits an’ spurts since my eighteenth summer. If I couldn’t forgive you bein’, well... you, we’d not’ve been lovers again when we met in Dheathain. If I’d not accepted who y’ are an ay long time ago, we’d never have been in this corner of C’rone t’day t’ begin with.” Karuka sat beside Storm, looking at him in the soft shards of moonlight that pierced the pitch-black of their campsite.

Her hand found his shoulder, tracing a magic-infused design onto his skin to help ease some of the aches that came with being a bony older adventurer. “But this time, y’ve committed t’ stay, an’ I’ve committed t’ keep you. In light of that, what’s a day or two, t’ make sure we’re all safe?”

[Storm Veritas]

He chewed on the last tiny tendons by the fire as he smirked at Karuka, gently touching her hand as she healed his pain. Her blend of delicacy and ferocity was genuinely unique in this world, and it made her a true diamond in the rough. Looking at the sharp contrast of his sunburned, red-flecked ivory skin against her smooth cappuccino flesh seemed to epitomize the fire and ice that somehow worked between them.

How the hell did I ever trick you into caring so much for me? You’re too bright to be such a damned fool.

Those big emerald eyes looked down to him with a brightness, but with the sharpness that admonished any ambitious ideas he might have had. She was right, of course; with the young one right there beside them, two small flaps of burlap would not be sufficient insulation for long-overdue lovemaking.

“I’ll be in there shortly. Going to have a smoke to smooth the stomach; it’s been awhile since I’ve been this full.”

The red cherry bowl was still warm when he packed a small pinch of tobacco into the chamber. With a snap of his fingers, a small spark burst above the leaves, erupting in an orange glow almost instantly. The first pull - always the best one - filled his lungs with a warm massage, as if tiny hands rubbed their way around, dancing. The flavor was smooth and mild, his mind instantly cleared.

So now we charter a small one to Scara Brae - try to find ourselves a fishing ship or something short and quiet. Get a proper ship to sail the long haul; probably won’t be much attention paid. Sounds good, -if- we get that far.

Another pull from the smoke, and a stare back in the direction from whence they came. Memories of the ambush rang back into his head; he’d felt so safe walking in to settle the score with Letho.

Maybe they’ve already followed me. Maybe they’re already marking all the ships. If that’s the case, I’m already as good as dead, even with these two world-wreckers with me. The assassins get paid enough to make their families rich for lifetimes. They won’t even bother attacking me, they’ll just sink the ship once we’re too far to swim.

The thought of it - the thought of losing Karuka and Taische because of his sins - it sickened him. The finest tobacco in the world wouldn’t settle his stomach now. His eyes moved across the periphery, studying the stars above laid upon the great blanket of black. Wind cool at his back, fire warm in his face. How long would he be able to keep them safe? How long would he wait until he brought death to the door of the only two he cared for?

Better off to wait twenty minutes, hitch Attila and break for it. Leave them behind. They’ll hate me, but they’ll live.

The selfish pang won the battle over his own knowledge. He needed the love, even with the risks. Finishing the pipe, he tapped out the residual ashes over the fire, and crept in for a restless night of sleep.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

Judgment


Foreword

Firstly, allow me to thank you both for allowing me to judge this epic. I very much appreciate the time and patience you gave me to finish it, which I hope I have fully re-invested as effort into the commentary and feedback. Whist I have made every effort to give a full and thorough account of the thread as I see it, its sheer size means that I have had to be somewhat selective about the length of my commentary to ensure you receive your scores and rewards before we migrate to Althanas 4.0.

If you feel that you need extended commentary, I would be more than happy to provide you with this later or edit it into the judgment. For the purposes of finding a balance between timely scoring and meaningful feedback, I hope the below suffices.



Story: 20/30


Plot: 6

Throughout the thread there were three elements for the reader to consider; firstly, Karuka and Taische’s relationship, development and journey together. Secondly, Storm’s own agenda with Radasanth’s law enforcement and Letho Ravenheart. Thirdly, the amalgamation of the three plots. Each element deserves its own appraisal so that’s what I aim to achieve below.

Starting with Karuka and Taische, I thoroughly enjoyed the development of the mother / daughter relationship throughout the thread. The posts focused mostly on life lessons with everything from simply learning about nature (early posts) to wrong versus right, the life cycle and the way of the world, so to speak. After Taische’s development and the meeting at the farm, the thread shifted focus onto Karuka and Storm’s relationship and even the workings of the triumvate. Even if it was accidental, the structure and order of the posts formed a well-written continuity that seemed to have a purpose in mind without giving the reader mindless filler. One criticism is that parts of that continuity became a bit wobbly after Storm was ambushed at Letho’s farm, and your final post seemed a little abrupt, but not enough to spoil the overall experience. This is something I’ll touch upon in pacing but I believe the length of the thread might have had more to do with this than anything.

Storm’s side of the plot was intriguing from the get-go. My first impression was that the letter was from Karuka, so I was nicely wrong-footed when I was proven wrong. Though the idea about a trade-off with Radasanthian law enforcement for the removal of Letho was in itself fantastic, I predicted almost immediately that it would be a trap to lure Storm out and catch him off guard. In that respect, although the build up was written brilliantly, I was a little disappointed that you didn’t work a twist in to throw me off the scent. One element I found myself querying was whether or not it was ever resolved that the gunmen were hired by Sir Edgar Tyllan. I still think that was never truly answered; more implied.


Setting: 8

Setting was, undoubtedly, one of your greater strengths.

You are both exceptional at describing your character's surroundings. You both incorporated setting into other elements of your storytelling which enhanced the entire experience for me beyond just the plot and reinforced what you were trying to show the reader. Examples of this include Taische contrasting between the earth beneath her feet feeling right and Corone feeling very stale to her. In Storm’s third post, you describe Radasanth in such a way that puts it on a pedestal and yet shows it up for what Veritas knows it to truly be. These types of moments, and there were probably too many to list, truly did improve the overall experience for me. There were very brief instances where I felt that setting was lost to action, especially at the farm, but those were few and far between really.


Pacing: 6

As mentioned above, pacing was an area that could use a bit of attention and I feel I can attribute my issues with this to two different, but equally important, areas.

Firstly, while the early action and overall dialogue kept me hooked, I felt as if you were both operating on different speeds or levels of escalation. It wasn’t exactly horrendous, but it was noticeable. Storm, I must admit I felt that a few of your posts, however good the intention or quality, struggled to enhance or advance the story when needed, not so much early on but perhaps mid thread before the farm. During this section of the thread, Karuka’s posts always felt like they were addressing a plot point in terms of development of either her relationship with Taische or general advancement towards the story's goal.

This brings me to my second point, and perhaps the reason why the first one stands out so much. The thread was epically long. It is often difficult, unless you are both operating in perfect synchronization, for two writers to make every post plot relevant and filler free for an extended period of time. Taking this into consideration, I think you both did a good job (despite how the feedback reads) in keeping on track.


Character: 23/30


Communication: 8

You both performed well in this area. Storm’s colourful dialogue and logical thought process stood out in this thread, especially in the way you allow his emotions to bleed through via the dialogue and liberal use of internal thought. This allowed the reader to delve into the inner workings of Storm’s mind and this was delivered in a way which many try to emulate but few can actually do. I like the way he modifies his behavior and usually abrasive attitude when around Karuka; this shows good levels of character development and attention to detail.

One of the things I enjoyed most about this thread was how Karuka sews little flecks of her culture into her dialogue. All too often I find myself advising people in this area to give their character something to make them stand out from the generic; a little twist on their speech, or a particular habit or action that puts that little trademark on them. You do this brilliantly, placing emphasis on her accent to give her a southern Irish drawl (that’s how it sounds in my head, anyway) that distinguishes her from the masses. I really enjoyed the lesson she taught Taische about distinguishing which mushrooms were poisonous and could almost picture myself getting the lecture in that heavy accent.

With Taische, there were one or two lines I had to re-read to make sure I fully understood the difference between an intentional child-like play on words (“Someone’s going to die very badly” was a zinger) and a genuine mistake. Now, I have to be careful about sending misleading signals here or giving contradictory feedback, but whilst there was strength to be found here, I found that your talent with Taische lies more in her childlike actions rather than the dialogue. Whilst Karuka’s lines are always interesting to read (if not sometimes a little hard on the eye), Taische, I felt, leaned more towards the generic I talk about above. This is by no means a criticism; perhaps just an observation that your weakness, if it can even be perceived as a weakness in the traditional sense, in communication is your strength in action and therefore evens itself out over the course of the thread. I still very much enjoyed reading her lines; I just believed Karuka’s dialogue was perhaps more of a standout because of the sheer intensity of the accent.


Persona: 8

Storm is a character that, when the mood takes him, can provide the reader with a wealth of dimensions but when it comes down to it he is who he is. In this thread, the lightning mage’s history with Letho Ravenheart really brings the best out of him, even if the end result wasn’t quite what he expected. Reading Storm’s reaction to that letter was priceless; I could almost feel the smarm oozing from the post but it never felt like too much or too little.

I am a massive fan of how Taische and Karuka were made to be their own characters and their separate personalities are clearly distinguished here. Being mother and daughter there are both realistic differences and similarities between the two that allow you to put each on their own suitable, individual podiums. The first instance of this was during Taische’s nature lesson, where she only longed for a return to Dheathain because she had grown bored of Corone, whereas she understood that her mother probably like Corone more because it seemed liked her natural home or environment.

One thing I really liked was the way Karuka nurtures and helps Taische to grow through the journey, ensuring that both characters got an excellent level of development that not only felt natural and un-forced but was pleasant to read. As I touch upon in other sections of this judgment, it seemed like each post was a nicely paced step that formed an ascending staircase of growth. Master writers can bring each and every character to life, even if elaborate backstories are not provided, and I felt you both achieved that.

Action: 7

I felt that your characters' decisions made sense, and reflected who they were. For example, I appreciated the way that Karuka merely constricted the gunmen in post six without resorting to killing them. This demonstrated her strong moral compass, without being showy about it, or shoving it down the reader's throat. Actions were, overall, logical and were consistent with personalities without revealing anything too special.

There were not as many of these notable moments as I had expected towards the latter part of the thread. The ones that were present were to be expected, which, like the predictability of Storm’s side of the plot, was precisely the problem. However, I felt that you did both work together nicely to ensure that transitions of moods, which can often be difficult to portray, went smoothly. As mentioned in communication, what I felt Taische lacked in dialogue (compared to Karuka, anyway) she more than made up for here. You really did a great job in bringing through her childlike behaviour in the form of little actions, such as her stomping her feet or sulking.


Prose: 26/30


Mechanics: 9

You both produced a solid and well written piece; one, I would point out, whose only real error was in the third post where a sentence was missing a full stop (“The pleasant spring had yielded to the unforgiving summer, and with it came a certain omnipresent lethargy Heat was a funny thing; it seemed the Radasanthians yearned so desperately for it in the harsh cold of winter, yet loathed it when it finally arrived at their doorsteps.”). Sentence structure, grammar and spelling were otherwise nigh on perfect, hence the high score and the limited feedback here. Sorry I can’t give you more, but there simply isn’t anything else I can add other than well done here.


Technique: 9

The one thing I liked jointly about your writing was how you both introduced an entire spectrum of literary devices to give the reader a complete picture of your story. You marry vivid description with easy to understand terminology that brought scenes to life and made the piece very easy on the eye. As the reader, I noticed subtle contrasts between your styles. Karuka lends herself more to vivid description of both action and setting, whilst Storm’s style combines an eye for small details and the employment of clever little metaphors and similes. Together, perhaps without realising it, you both give the reader nicely contrasting posts that come together to form a thread that is very well executed.

There is only a small adjustment to the score to reflect one minor annoyance. A habit of repetition crept in a little bit (“small rodent he had blasted that morning on the small spit” is one such example). Given your excellent command of the English language, I found this to be a little grating. Then again, I am probably also nitpicking a bit. Also, Karuka would have benefited from breaking up her dialogue in some places to ease the burden of trying to understand what she is saying. This is touched upon below in clarity


Clarity: 8

The only real issue I had with clarity was having to re-read parts of Karuka’s dialogue in an attempt to understand what she was saying. This particular section early on was one example where my eyes were screaming to be thumbed out:


"Th' lives y' save, th' people y' help, y' change th' world fer them, wee bit. Y' save th' world fer
them. Sometimes y' can save many jus' by bein' there, lookin' evil in th' face, and askin' it if it
really wants t' tangle with y'. Sometimes y' can fight with all th' strength in yer body fer one life,
an' y' lose 'em anyway. Y' keep goin' b'cause y' never know if y' don't try. Y' keep goin' b'cause
it's th' right thing t' do. An' th' victories are worth th' defeats, wee bit. They're worth it."

Ouch.

Everything else, though, was good. There is very little else to say here.



Wildcard: 10

Given some of my critique above, you may wonder why I believe this warrants a full ten. Category by category analysis of the rubric doesn’t always paint a full picture of threads, because one thing that is missing from our judgments is the enjoyment factor. I thoroughly enjoyed the read from start to finish. You are both exceptionally talented writers and some of the criticisms above are nit-picking at an otherwise solid performance for the sake of adhering to our official rubric.

Total score: 79

Storm Veritas receives 5005 EXP and 300 GP!

Karuka receives 2785 EXP and 190 GP!

Taische receives 1425 EXP and 145 GP!

This thread will also be nominated for a Judge's Choice award.

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

All standard rewards added, pending JC decision.