"How do you judge a monster? Is it in the length of their claws? The point of their fangs? Perhaps it is in the fierce form they wear? I have traveled seas and have seen monsters. But the greatest of them never appear so threatening. No. The most powerful monsters I know take the form of children." -Journal of Narav
6th Ashan
Night was deep now, a long draping sheet that hung quietly over the graveyard. Narav dusted his hands slowly, considering the looming shapes of dark clouds against the night sky. A light rain would fall, and soon, he could smell it on the wind. Edalane had left nearly a break ago, their work done. Here, beneath the night and the moon, Narav had chosen to stay for a time before the sun would rise. Just as it had been, arcs ago in the graveyard, so it was now. He would stay to smooth the signs of their passage. The gravedigger's shovel perched against Godryn's tombstone, now filled with the appropriate body. His muscles ached, exhausted and still injured from his fight with Fridgar. The powder the Iron Hand had provided him was long gone and no succor from the pain would find him.
For the first time in a long time, Narav felt a sense of peace settling on his heart. Godryn was buried in his rightful grave. It did not expunge the sin of murder on Narav's soul, of course, but it had eased some of his demons into a quiet reverie. He took a seat on the gravestone and examined the blade he had elected not to bury with the knight. Rynmere steel, arcs in the ground, and not a touch of rust upon it. He lay the blade flat across his knees and picked the mud from the damaged scabbard. He'd need to get that replaced, surely. Narav hadn't decided if he intended to give the blade back to Allan, or if he would keep it. Certainly the steel was heavy, but he would grow accustomed to it in time.
Sliding it back into the sheathe, he lay it against the grave beside the shovel and slid down to the earth. It was damp, a thick and heady smell. He couldn't detect the whiff of decay any longer, swallowed by the grave they'd dumped the body into. Godryn's face was the worst, a profusion of decayed flesh and thick mushrooms that crowded for purchase against his crushed skull. Strangely, the image wasn't as haunting as Narav assumed it should be. There was a bleak pleasure in being so thorough.
Lisirra's work, no doubt.
In several breaks time, the night would end. By then he had to be away from the graveyard and back to his skiff. Would he follow Edalene to another city? All the way across the sea? He'd never been to Viden before, only heard tell of its impressive University and lost lore to discover. In his heart, part of him wanted to go, to lose himself in that willowy girl and forget.
But the game.
Neither Danielle nor Edward had made passage here. No one remembered the Deliverance, the Dancer, or any of them coming to look for help. They hadn't made Rynmere. That was two places off the list...their home, Ne'haer and Rynmere. Unfortunately, that left the rest to guesswork. Narav couldn't fathom where the pirates might have taken Edward and Danielle...Scalvoris maybe. If they were dead, surely Lisirra would be here to mock him and given that he saw no diminutive figure skipping along the gravestones, he counted himself fortunate. Viden was as good a guess as any, perhaps, although he could try Ivorian...given that they were closer there than anywhere else.
"Damn this game," Narav muttered, running his dirty hands through dark hair, "I can't very well travel as quick as Lisirra, so how can I expect to find them before her?"
An Arc had already passed since the incident. An Arc for them to get anywhere. Yes, if they had survived and kept their freedom, they could be anywhere at all across all Idalos.
"Damn it," Narav muttered, "Damn it all."
6th Ashan
Night was deep now, a long draping sheet that hung quietly over the graveyard. Narav dusted his hands slowly, considering the looming shapes of dark clouds against the night sky. A light rain would fall, and soon, he could smell it on the wind. Edalane had left nearly a break ago, their work done. Here, beneath the night and the moon, Narav had chosen to stay for a time before the sun would rise. Just as it had been, arcs ago in the graveyard, so it was now. He would stay to smooth the signs of their passage. The gravedigger's shovel perched against Godryn's tombstone, now filled with the appropriate body. His muscles ached, exhausted and still injured from his fight with Fridgar. The powder the Iron Hand had provided him was long gone and no succor from the pain would find him.
For the first time in a long time, Narav felt a sense of peace settling on his heart. Godryn was buried in his rightful grave. It did not expunge the sin of murder on Narav's soul, of course, but it had eased some of his demons into a quiet reverie. He took a seat on the gravestone and examined the blade he had elected not to bury with the knight. Rynmere steel, arcs in the ground, and not a touch of rust upon it. He lay the blade flat across his knees and picked the mud from the damaged scabbard. He'd need to get that replaced, surely. Narav hadn't decided if he intended to give the blade back to Allan, or if he would keep it. Certainly the steel was heavy, but he would grow accustomed to it in time.
Sliding it back into the sheathe, he lay it against the grave beside the shovel and slid down to the earth. It was damp, a thick and heady smell. He couldn't detect the whiff of decay any longer, swallowed by the grave they'd dumped the body into. Godryn's face was the worst, a profusion of decayed flesh and thick mushrooms that crowded for purchase against his crushed skull. Strangely, the image wasn't as haunting as Narav assumed it should be. There was a bleak pleasure in being so thorough.
Lisirra's work, no doubt.
In several breaks time, the night would end. By then he had to be away from the graveyard and back to his skiff. Would he follow Edalene to another city? All the way across the sea? He'd never been to Viden before, only heard tell of its impressive University and lost lore to discover. In his heart, part of him wanted to go, to lose himself in that willowy girl and forget.
But the game.
Neither Danielle nor Edward had made passage here. No one remembered the Deliverance, the Dancer, or any of them coming to look for help. They hadn't made Rynmere. That was two places off the list...their home, Ne'haer and Rynmere. Unfortunately, that left the rest to guesswork. Narav couldn't fathom where the pirates might have taken Edward and Danielle...Scalvoris maybe. If they were dead, surely Lisirra would be here to mock him and given that he saw no diminutive figure skipping along the gravestones, he counted himself fortunate. Viden was as good a guess as any, perhaps, although he could try Ivorian...given that they were closer there than anywhere else.
"Damn this game," Narav muttered, running his dirty hands through dark hair, "I can't very well travel as quick as Lisirra, so how can I expect to find them before her?"
An Arc had already passed since the incident. An Arc for them to get anywhere. Yes, if they had survived and kept their freedom, they could be anywhere at all across all Idalos.
"Damn it," Narav muttered, "Damn it all."
