What Does This Button Do?

[Yanahalqah]

Ashan 20 Arc 717

If there was one thing Yana could say with certainty about Viden, something that was completely within her expectations, it would be that the city of Eídisi was cold. As in really cold. The weather did not really help matters along; it had been snowing for a while, and it still was. People said the snowfall had grown lighter though, which was a good thing. Rumor had it the supply of salt was running low, and that if things continued this way soon the streets as a whole would be transformed into an ice-skating range. Even with the salt keeping the roads from freezing over completely, Yana had felt her boots slip on a hidden patch of ice a couple times, sending her waving her arms around in a desperate attempt to maintain her balance. Sometimes it worked, allowing her to somehow hold herself upright. Other times she just smacked backwards into the stone of the street, displeased and embarrassed. This trial, it was the latter.

Some people cracked a smile at the sight of her, others just stared at her with a blank face for a couple trills before turning away and continuing about their business. No-one would come extend a helping hand towards her, it seemed, but that was fine. That way she did not have to interact with anyone, nor have to admit that she was entirely unused to the treacherous nature of the Videnese streets. Sure, she could hide her embarrassment well enough, but that did not make any interactions any less awkward. Besides, it made her feel like a toddler, and that was never a good thing.

The Yludih pushed herself into a sitting position before placing her knees underneath her body. From there she worked herself into a crouching position, then slowly standing up and dusting off her clothes. She sighed deeply, part of her trousers already sporting wet spots where it had come into contact with the snow. It probably wasn’t wise to stay outside for too long now. It wasn’t likely the spots would freeze, but they were cold and drained her energy.

Her first steps were taken with utmost care, and only when she believed to have left the danger zone did the Yludih’s pace pick back up, walking through the streets and rounding corners with large strides. It was only a matter of time when someone appeared from behind a bend, someone she had not seen, nor anticipated. It could have resulted in a collision, but both parties managed to stop in their tracks just before they ran into each other. Unfortunately, the treacherous underground threw a spanner in the works, and Yana felt her boots slide from under her once again. She reached out for the closest thing to steady herself with, which happened to be the shoulder of the cloaked individual in front of her.

It only served to pull them off balance as well, and before either of them was aware of it, they both were struggling to stay upright, both tugging at each other. Resistance was futile though, as soon one leg got stuck behind those of the other, and when one fell, so did the other. Yana cursed under her breath as she and the stranger collapsed in a small heap of limbs. Contact was brief, the stranger quickly getting off of the Yludih, looking quite annoyed with the whole situation. The hood of their cloak had fallen off, and their muffler had untangled, revealing a woman’s face. A fierce-looking one with tattoos. She reminded Yana of the swordmistress she’d encountered seasons ago. One of the Naerikk, perhaps? What was she doing here of all places? More importantly, would she be willing to help?

“Say,” Yana began, having risen to her feet again, “you are a Naer, aren’t you?”
The other woman did not reply, instead fixing her muffler and putting her hood back on. Yana wished she’d brought such a cloak or bought a bonnet to wear this trial, she’d be able to keep the cold from her face that way too.
“Could you maybe spare a moment to--”
“No.”
That response was just as cold as the ice underneath their feet.
“It should not take long,” Yana tried again, “It is just a simpl--”
“No.” Annoyed glare. “I don’t have time.”

With that, the woman left, speeding away with quick steps. Yana frowned. She knew that the Naerikk weren’t all that welcome here in Viden, but that did not mean they had to react so bluntly to a simple request. Hell, she hadn’t even listened. The Yludih considered her options for a moment; she could just walk away, but this was probably one of the ten Naer in Viden. It would be pretty hard to find anyone else capable of helping her identify some gadgets. She’d tried bringing them to a gadgeteer, hoping he could appraise them. Unfortunately, he had never seen anything like it before, leaving Yana’s curiosity unsated. The next dozen had given a similar apology, unable to help. She’d sought out engineers, craftsmen and artists alike. None was any help. None had a clue as to how to operate the devices, nor to what they would do upon activation. Even here in Viden, she hadn’t been able to find anyone that could help her. Until now.

The gadgets had come into her possession by looting them from the corpse of a Naer, and the Naer had used one of the devices in combat; a switching sword. Thus, it was likely that the previous owner could use the devices. Perhaps another Naer could too. And if they could, they could tell Yana how to use them. This was her last hope, really. If after a couple seasons of searching she couldn’t find anyone able to identify the objects, then she never would. That, and her enthusiasm of solving the enigma was starting to wane. Sure, a bit of mystery was fine and dandy, but only in moderation. Hopeless tasks were not appealing. If the Naerikk couldn’t help, then it was likely no-one could. Then the gadgets probably weren’t of Naerikk make, and Gremielle had stolen them, or received them as a gift or something… either way, she’d be one of the few able to operate them. Sadly, she was dead, and could no longer answer questions.

However, the Naer from a few moments ago was very much alive and kicking. Yana decided right then and there that she would follow the woman, and bother her until she gave in. Identifying did not have to take very long; Yana had the switching sword on hand. It was the only gadget she’d managed to figure out (or more accurately, had dared to try and activate) because she’d seen it being used before. If the Naer could use it without a second thought, it was likely she could use the other gadgets as well. Meaning that the Yludih would at least be one step closer. She could then go find a Naer with time, and a will to lend her aid. It was a plan, one that did rely a bit much on hope and speculation, but it was something at least.

Determination settling on her face, Yana started to walk in the same direction the Naer had, hot on her tail.

[Linika]

The trials dragged on, one into the next, with no returning joy in being a member of the superior female race on the horizon. Though she had been released from the holding cell where she'd undergone a violation beyond the scope of naerikk racial memory, it made her sick to her stomach that members of other races would consider her lucky. She had been marked by Yvithia, the most hated enemy of the Immortal she worshiped with all her heart, Great Mother Audrae.

It was only the fact that her experience with cosmetics allowed her to cover the "stain" of the claim the Great Enemy had made upon her soul, as well as her face, that allowed her to function. The mark was a blue vertical streak across her right eye, extending from the top of her forehead to a mid-point on her cheek on that side. She had only just gotten to where she no longer felt her spirit crushed at morning's first sight of it in the mirror. She'd learned to hide it with cosmetics, but the damage was done. The alleged "Blessing" was more truly a curse for one of her race.

There was the aspect of challenge, in the form of trying not to cry with the knowledge of how she could never go home again, bearing such disgrace. But she'd lost that challenge too often to ever take pride in the few instances where she held it back. Her mission could never succeed now. Her work at the Viridian Wing of the Academy was no longer a point of pride, so much as a mockery of the strides she'd initially made in her mission for the Great Mother.

It was true she'd genuinely advanced her chemistry skills, but that was to be her qualification to eventually gain entry to Viden's inner circle. She'd known well ahead of time that it would take arcs for such a thing to even become possible. But Audrae had all the time in the world, literally. And Linika had all the time of her life, and had been entirely willing to spend it in such a worthy pursuit.

But now Yvithia was completely aware of her presence there, so there was no longer any possibility of gaining ground on her mission. The only shred of accomplishment she still retained was the knowledge that she'd kept secret the fact that she'd been assigned this mission, and that it was not just the city in which she chose to hide, in order to avoid Augiery's hunters, wishing to track down an exile for their own glory.

Yvithia herself had spoken in terms of Linika having been abandoned and wrongfully exiled. This was obviously the way in which the Ice Queen had hoped to drive a wedge between Audrae and her loyal servant. It was a test of Linika's acting skills to respond with emotions consistent with that being the truth; a blend of anger and denial had kept this truth concealed.

Her exile was truly just a cover story. Her mission was to uncover what was going on in the secret facility known to exist on Viden. It was a source of excruciating frustration to great Mother Audrae that such a secretive installation was entirely beyond the scope of her rightful domain. Linika had been completely willing to become an alleged pariah to her own people in order to aid her Matron in discovering what was up in Viden. She had to suffer the barbs of hatred inflicted on her by naerikk and non-naerikk alike, none of whom knew that she was only an exile in cover story.

But this was an ordeal she'd been quick to accept if it meant the possibility of advancing her matron's agenda for the world. And last arc she'd been instrumental in uncovering the plot by the three mongrel Immortals, Lissira, Aelig, and Syroa, that traitorous bitch that had supposedly been an ally, only to turn against Audrae in favor of the other two. It was an unfortunate side effect that Yvithia's agenda had been peripherally served by the turn of events orchestrated by Audrae's cunning. But it had turned the Ice Queen's eye upon the naerikk "exile".

Linika had been certain that her superiors in Augiery would understand that even though Yvithia was her sworn enemy, it could not be held against any mortal to fall prey to the power of an Immortal. Yvithia's stabs at the appearance of disloyalty and abandonment on the part of Augiery was only additional insult. There could be no truth to such hateful accusations, the naer told herself. They were just tools of the enemy. How could any inferior race hope to use the concepts of deceit successfully against the children of Audrae? Linika knew desperate lies when she heard them.

But she also knew that Augiery must be aware of what had transpired regarding her exposed position. To suggest otherwise would be to deny Audrae's reign over the field of secrets. Augiery had to know that the exile was, through no fault of her own, no longer able to further her mission; and that it had only been because of the necessity of exposing the plot destined to be foiled in Oscillus, that this was so.

Seeing that the events in Oscillus had been a great triumph for Audrae, it stood to reason that Linika had great renown awaiting her at home. Yvithia had been infuriatingly confident that there would be no such loyalty shown. Linika had been just as certain that her reward would be forthcoming, and had said as much. She had basically staked the credibility of her beliefs in her home culture upon this certainty. The unspoken "Time will tell" had hung in the air between them.

It was true that this certainty had waned just a bit in the intervening trials, as she awaited some word of her recognition. But with the arrival of a naer on the most recent ship, it was surely going to be made completely clear just who was right, and who was the fool. As yet, Linika was unaware of this development. She'd become aware of a degree of heightened awareness, regarding what motivated and gratified those around her. But she knew this was a feature of her "curse" and she would not lower herself to use it.

But at the back of her subconscious was the ever-present naerikk desire for anything to impart confirmation of superiority over others...

[Yanahalqah]

Following the woman proved to be something of a problem. Not because there were a whole lot of people out and about, but because of the brisk pace with which she walked. It did not pair well with the snow as far as Yana was concerned. It made her attempts at catching up to the Naer woman an ordeal in of itself. One wrongly placed foot could send her stumbling or falling towards the floor. Near the walls of the houses though, the footing was a lot less slippery, and even if she did begin to fall, she could easily steady herself by clinging to the wall.

With this insurance, the Yludih grew a lot more comfortable walking around, speeding up as much as she could without breaking into a run, hoping to catch up. It was a tricky thing; tailing someone was an artform. Too close and they could spot you, noticing you’d been following them around. Perhaps at first they’d think it a coincidence, but then they’d be on guard from that moment onwards, especially so if they had something to hide. That is not to say that Yana thought the Naer had some secretive business to take care of, not at all. Sure, the woman was wearing a hooded cloak, that fully hid her features, but it was cold as hell here in Viden, and such things were not uncommon. Besides, she was a Naer, and from all the Yluidh had seen, Naer weren’t particularly well liked in these parts. It made sense to hide your identity.

Either way, following too close was a bad idea. Too far was as well, but only because it made it easier to lose track of the person you were trying to follow. The idea was to find the middle ground between the two, staying far enough behind so you wouldn’t be noticed, but close enough they would not escape your sight. A tricky thing indeed. Especially so when you’d lost sight of them from the start. From that moment the subtle game became something more akin to a wild goose chase, with the stalker looking franticly for their target when they reached a corner. Did they go left, or right? What was that over there? A cloaked figure just rounding the next corner? Right it is! Quickly now, quickly close the gap! Shit, too close! Veer off to the side, pretend to look at a wall or something while observing the target from the corner of your eye. Let them put some distance between the two of you again, then get moving once again. Slow down at corners, take an inconspicuous peek around it first, then follow them into the next street.

It was a tricky thing to be sure, and Yana started overthinking things soon enough, second guessing herself multiple times. The movement of the hood, did it mean the Naer was looking her way? Had she seen her? No? Yes? Probably. Better wait a few moments. Fuck, too long! Lost sight of her! Quick, speed up the pace! Need to catch up! Shit, she’s just behind the corner, abort! Abort! Just keep walking past that street then, but keep an eye out. She’s moving again? Good. U-turn and resume tailing.

Things continued in this fashion for a while, and Yana was sure she’d been spotted at least a dozen times. Still, the Naer did not stop to turn around and confront the Yludih, and Yana hoped that to the Naerikk all Eídisi kind of looked alike enough that she hadn’t noticed she’d been followed. Did it matter if she were to be discovered? Yes, yes it did. She’d just be given the cold shoulder again and the Naer would make sure to shake Yana off her tail. As long as she wasn’t discovered though, the Yludih could follow her to whatever the destination was, and trap her there. That, and there was the nagging suspicion that the Naer wasn’t up to much good. Perhaps it was just Yana’s imagination, but the woman seemed to be looking around as inconspicuously as possible from time to time. It wasn’t a conscious observation though, just something nagging in the back of her mind that kept her from revealing herself. Perhaps she recognized herself in those mannerisms, as if it was her there, looking for a safe place to shift into her alter ego. She wouldn’t want to be followed then either.

When two others, cloaked and hooded, joined the first Naer, Yana’s suspicions were growing into the front of her mind now too, into the conscious part. It could recognize trouble, and was debating what the best course of action was. Three times the eyes meant three times the chance of getting spotted. And if they were about to do something that shouldn’t be seen, and discovered Yana… It was her curiosity that kept her where she was though. Rather close to the trio, but not as close that she could hear what they were saying. And even if she could, the language they used was foreign to her. What she could do from her spot was see one adjust her cloak, a metal shimmering in the light. A blade? Yana frowned. This was probably going to turn ugly. Maybe she should turn around and leave. This had nothing to do with her after all. She’d lose her lead, yes, but it was better to lose a lead than to lose her life.

However, it was the approaching person that kept her in place. Not an Eídisi, no. A Naer. Another one. This must be Yana’s lucky trail. Or unlucky trial, depending how one looked at it. Either way, it was a Naer walking right into what looked to be an ambush. Yana scanned the area quickly, unable to spot anyone else besides the five of them. It was too early for people to be outside already. Yana had been on her way to the academy, where she was supposed to arrive early, but everyone else was still sleeping soundly. The perfect time for an attack. Yana frowned. What to do, what to do? If she stepped in, she could potentially turn the tides for the ambushed Naer. She could maybe ask a favor in return for her help… On the other hand… no, these assassins probably wouldn’t share their time and secrets with the Yludih. She’d get rejected again and again. If she could even find them at all after this was over. If she walked up to them right after they had done their business, she’d be a witness, no doubt. Witnesses tended to vanish. The lone Naer was her last chance then. Her only lead. She couldn’t let her lead be snatched away, not after all this time.

Yana nodded to herself, grabbing hold of the hilt of the switching blade. It looked like a harmless rod now, but if the Yludih wished it, she could turn it into a twinblade (which she couldn’t wield at all) or a longsword. It was too long for her to use properly, as she preferred to fight with shorter blades, but it would do. Besides, if she went about this the right way, she’d have the element of surprise. And if worst came to worst, she still had her hand-to-hand combat training to fall back on. Not that she fancied her chances against three armed opponents though.

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Sorry for the late reply!

[Linika]

Linika turned a corner to find purpose and vindication once again restored to her heart and mind. A trio of her Naerikk sisters stepped forth to greet her. Not blood sisters, of course; but all naer were sisters beneath the Great Mother. Linika wished she could have done more than cover the Xypha mark with cosmetics. She knew they would see it eventually. She bolstered her joy with the certainty that they already knew.

Linika would look back later and curse herself for her foolishness. For even at the very outset of this reunion she had felt just a mental inkling of contempt coming from the newly arrived trio. But in her gladness and certainty she assumed it to be contempt for the people and city they'd been forced to enter to bring the false exile word of her rightful renown. She had wanted so strongly to never use any of abilities given by Yvithia's mark, that she quickly shut it down.

As they hugged, and names were given, it happened again; a sense of questioning if something was to be done immediately, and a response to wait, accompanied by an image of being at sea. Happiness soared within Linika's heart, obscuring the ensuing detail of a body being dumped into the aforementioned sea. She took it only to mean that her welcoming committee wanted to wait until they were away from this loathsome place to better enjoy the moment of her rewarding.

The three formed a triangular escort formation around Linika and the four of them began to make their way toward the docks. There were a few questions asked, inviting Linika to regale them with her great accomplishment in warning Audrae of the three Immortal's plot against her agenda in Treidhart. There was a genuine moment of confusion as one of the three seemed suddenly to generate some doubt about their mission.

Linika took it to mean it was the lowest ranking of the three, not understanding the fact that The Great Mother had agendas in every corner of Idalos; and that even something that benefitted other Immortals was not necessarily a departure from her plan. She was confident the other two, higher ranking, sisters would straighten her out. She very nearly spoke about the slight bit of mental awareness in those within close range that she'd gained from her branding by Yvithia, but hesitated for some reason. But she did mention having been so inflicted.

It was not until Linika expressed her joy in being able to have the Great Mother remove the cursed witch brand that the Ice Queen had inflicted upon her, that doubt began to creep in. It was to be expected that a feeling of utter disdain for Yvithia would rise from the three escorting her. It was expected that a shared sense of joy would follow. What was not expected was the sudden rise of impatient anger that formed a mental aura about them.

The docks were before them now and a alarmed confusion came to Linika's mind. This was not one of the externally originating impressions she'd been getting since she'd been marked. This came from her own observations and knowledge of Viden culture and customs. There was no boat to account for how they were supposedly going to leave! It would be many breaks before a common-fare ship would be departing. Why were they going this way? Why weren't they heading to her home to await the departure time in relative comfort?

A homesick dread stabbed her heart. She knew how her sudden suspicion could be tested. She stopped silently, removing her gloved hands from their pockets. Now an external sense of alarm came from her escort as they too stopped. An puzzled unspoken question of why had 'she' stopped flashed through her mind from outside. It was followed by an impatient urge to act...now. Peripheral vision caught the hints of the movements of the naerikk racial sign language around her.

It was too far into the margin of her field of vision to read what they were saying, but the betrayed grief and fury she felt did not require any translation. She could feel the intent brewing in the minds around her. She stepped back suddenly, colliding and feeling the arm position of a person drawing a weapon from up their sleeve. Tears of heartbreak and rage combined to blur the image of the other two shocked expressions as she screamed and stomped her right foot onto that of the woman behind her.

The other two recovered quickly as she spun to see the agonized face of the woman whose broken foot bones were being further crushed as she shoved into her, taking the one forearm in her own two hands and plunging her enemy's own knife into her enemy's own chest. The feelings of hurt dissipated in her enjoyment of the look of dumb horror on the face of the dying, would-be assassin as she trampled over her.

She felt another knife swish her hair as she ducked and surged across the one dying assailant, who conveniently fell prone on her back. Linika could already see the splotches of discoloration on her face, heralding the use of "Stain" poison on the blade. There was no time to try to dislodge the firmly sunk steel, so she ran back the way she'd come, looking for any good impromptu weapon, as the other two naer gave silent pursuit.

[Yanahalqah]

Yana had not been expecting the reaction of either party. She had not expected the four Naer to hug and smile and greet each other as if they were all close friends. The Yludih frowned at the sight, pondering whether or not she’d been seeing things earlier. Maybe the trio hadn’t been wearing blades at all. Maybe it was something else… No. Impossible. She would not mistake a blade for something else. Besides, it was only natural for strangers in an alien city, a city where they were mistrusted and hated, to be armed. If they were not planning anything, then why had the woman she’d followed made sure to check the surroundings every so often? It was possible she’d known on an instinctual level she was being followed. Maybe. Or, all four of them were up to no good. The fourth just being the agent planted in the city ages ago. Perhaps.

If that was the case, there wasn’t really anything Yana could do. If she was discovered, she’d probably be killed on sight. They wouldn’t let her live, let alone ask for favors. If she left though, she would leave with her life, but she’d lose her lead. She’d need to do some more digging until she could unravel the mystery of the gadgets. A minor setback, if compared to death. Though the Yludih was growing less and less interested in those curiosities with each passing season. Some mystery was good and all, but too much… Besides, she wasn’t obsessively curious anyway.

Objectively speaking, leaving would be the safe option. She could just turn back, go about her business, and let the Naerikk do whatever mischief they were up to. What they did was not her problem. Sure, it was possible that Viden would take a blow, but its protection was plenty, and Yvithia was more than capable of dealing with such nonsense. Yana needn’t get involved in any way.

However, she kept watching. It was difficult to let go of a perfectly good lead. Besides, something was nagging in the back of her mind. Yludih were liars and top-class actors. Yana was too. Liars were good at sifting out liars. They could recognize the little things that made dishonesty obvious. It wasn’t always accurate, she couldn’t always tell when someone was lying or why. But more often than not, the people who did not depend on the art of lying to survive were not immune to her keen eye. Most importantly though, the Yludih was observing from afar, unable to hear what was being said. She only had body language to help her try and follow what was going on. A spoken lie was easy to mask, and even the facial expression was –though harder—also possible to control. Body language though… body language often revealed the truth. It were small things, details that just did not fit. Space between two people when they spoke, the position of their feet.

During the short interaction, Yana saw many things. She saw honest joy and warmth. She saw happiness. She saw one Naer treat the other three as if they were old friends, or even family. Those other three however… They did act the part, yes. They returned the hug, the smiles. But there was a stiffness in their movements as they spoke, contrasting greatly with the enthusiasm of the other Naer. One of the three fidgeted, casting glances to the other two every so often. The other two were much more composed, looking relaxed and calm, but all three their bodies spoke of impatience, and of a distance between them and the other Naer. Yana had seen them speak to each other before the fourth Naer had come. They’d been standing way closer together than they were now. When hugging, the women had done it in such a way that they still stood not too close.

Something was definitely off here.

And thus, Yana followed.

They led her to the docks, quiet and almost deserted, and it was there that Yana’s hunch was confirmed. The fourth Naer stopped in her tracks instead of following, much to the displeasure of the other three. Sign language Yana couldn’t understand –it wasn’t Common Sign, it seemed—was exchanged, and a battle ensued. If they’d had the element of surprise, the fourth Naer would have perished without a doubt. She’d probably have died before realizing it. Now though, the roles were reversed. Within trills one of the assassins was falling to the ground with a blade stuck in her chest. Yana curled her fingers around the hilt of the switchblade, but did not let the blade spring forth. She did not leave her hiding place just yet. The Naerikk were a warrior race. Even though Yana had received combat training in the Iron Hand, even if she was more skilled than an ordinary knight, she did not think her chances of beating two highly trained assassins to be worth betting on. She needed the element of surprise.

With no weapon, the fourth Naer came running back the way she’d come –heading in Yana’s direction. The two assassins were on her heels, and Yana did her best to stay as much out of sight as possible. It shouldn’t be hard. In theory, those two assassins should be too focused on their mark to spot her. The same could be said for the mark herself. Yana let two of them pass, preying on the last of them. Her actions weren’t fancy, nor elegant or pretty to look at. But they were bloody effective. She kicked her leg out as the last Naer was passing by, tripping her. The speed with which the woman moved only made her fall inevitable. She collided hard with the floor, sliding a little further in the snow. Yana wasted little time. She closed the distance before the woman had a chance to stand back up, stomping the Naer on the shoulder blades when she tried. Then, she brought her foot down again, this time aiming for the neck. A Yludih body had many advantages. It was tough, and more importantly, dense and heavy. Yana placed all her weight on her foot when it hit, feeling the neck break under her boot. Leaving her alive was too risky. Yana did not trust her own ability of knocking the woman unconscious. It was possible she’d have enough time to recover and come back to bite her in the arse. Killing her was safer. Besides, she did not have time to be careful. There was still a second Naerikk assassin to deal with.

[Linika]

A strange joy surged through Linika as she zigged and zagged to betray any predictable pattern. This was living! The thrilling fear of death, tempered by its manifestation as challenge! As well as the freedom to kill her pursuers with no cry of 'foul'. The best game in the world, with your lives at stake. As well as whatever you could loot off the body as spoils. It simply got no better than that!

She saw what she was looking for, at the same time that she noted the eidisi assail one of the two. There was no time to see how exactly it had been finished, but she knew there would many easy ways to dispatch a fallen foe at your feet. Fates! Your feet alone would be one simple way. Any other time, the addition of an eidisi into a fight would surely count as one more enemy. But now she was faced with only one.

There was just a twinge of disappointment in the loss of odds against her. I would diminish her triumph. But this sentiment was immediately crushed under the recurring realization that her sisters had come to kill her. Clearly there was to be no grand return to Augiery's cheers. No recognition of any triumph. Disappointment turned to black anger; based as much upon the sense of Yvithia sneering 'I told you...' as any loss of earned praise.

But she compartmentalized this feeling as just a freak thing. Surely these were simply free agents who had not known of her actions last Vhalar, acting only upon her initial cover as an exile. Surely...agents...not knowing...of the events that had nearly torn the entire world apart? Her rationale soured in her mind.

An instinctive alarm went off in her mind, and she realized she'd been running straight for too many steps in a row as her mind had been distracted. There was also the slight stutter-step sound from behind her. She recognized it as the sound of the swift repositioning of the feet one does while running to throw a knife. She dove and rolled, hearing the blade go skittering off the stone ahead of her.

She bolted to her feet to act as if she now believed her enemy would be disarmed. Of course she knew this would not be the case; her enemy was already pulling a second blade and advancing with a contemptuous grin, Grovokian hissing through her lips, "Eill..." the assassin started, labeling her target with the term to be applied to all traitors, cowards, and undesirables even below the rank of slave. "Your cover is blown...traitor!"

Now Linika was stunned. This agent was obviously up on her cover story, and had still defamed her as a traitor. "What is this?" Linika cried back, her own Grovokian coming easily since being given the mark,"You know I am here by assignment? Then you know that my cover is only blown by my duty to the Great Mother. My warning of the plots of the three served her, but exposed me!"

"No excuses, Eill. Our matron does not need the aid of such as you!" the other naer hissed. This operative clearly did not now want to end this with a thrown blade. It would be over too fast. Linika was already in the position she wanted, the wet discarded board, lying slightly elevated at her feet, one corner perched upon a rock. She opted to feign anguish and desperation to explain.

"But she can not expect me to overpower Yvithia mind-to-mind! None of you can. Enemy or not, she is an Immortal too!" Linika flung her arms up in supplication. It was not entirely a feigned maneuver. The hostility did take her by surprise. but mostly she was trying to draw attention away from her feet, now ready to act. But if the woman would just move another step to her right...

"Do not speak her name, bitch! the last service you will be allowed is to die silently! Perhaps then I will tell our sisters you did not die begging!" the hate in the assassin's voice was beyond measure. Linika was truly disturbed that such loathing would be directed at her. Excuse or not, it was unfair to think a mere mortal could overpower the mind of the Immortal of Intellect.

"But this is unfair! I HAD to send warning to Mother Audrae. And it was this which exposed me. Should I have let the three have their ambush? Was it worse to blow one long-term assignment to prevent an immedi-..." the assassin took the awaited step and Linika kicked the board up between them.

She knew from training that wide flat items would catch air and slip off on a plane to the right or left. You prevented this by immediately stepping into it to back it up with forward inertia and a solid mass behind it. Linika slammed into the woman full on, hearing a satisfying 'oof' from the other side of the board, as she completed her impromptu shield-slam.

She directed downward force in accompaniment with her body weight to crush the woman beneath her. She then quickly rolled off to the side in anticipation of the woman throwing the board off. Having no other weapon but he boots she crushed the first woman's foot with, she decided this approach would work well enough on this last woman's head.

But she noticed the blade sticking through the board. It made her suddenly aware of a slash she'd gotten on her arm as she'd crashed into the woman. At the same moment that she felt it suddenly getting very difficult to breathe, she also saw splotches of discoloration on her arm and a bloody grin of triumph on the face of the woman at her feet. Though she'd landed several well-placed kicks, and could have triumphed with only a few more ticks, she felt all the strength leave her as she fell choking onto the cold stones of the street.

She was "stained". She was as good as dead. She had perhaps a single bit. And most of that would be unconscious anyway. Only if the woman had an antidote could she be saved. But what would prompt this assassin to now save her life? No, it was over. But the knowledge that Mother Audrae had truly rejected her made the thought of death welcome to her.

[Yanahalqah]

With one enemy taken care of, Yana turned in the direction she had seen the other assassin chase her mark. They hadn’t gone too far, merely several dozens of meters ahead, one still chasing the other. There was an obvious change in the behavior of the assassin’s prey, the woman no longer weaving and bobbing as she ran, instead heading straight. Had she exhausted herself? Was she tiring quickly? This could turn the tables in the assassin’s favor, which would be a most unfortunate outcome. Yana cursed under her breath as she suppressed the urge of making sure the Naer was well and truly dead, and then loot the corpse, in favor of breaking into a frantic dash. There was no telling if she was going to get there in time. Maybe not, but then maybe she’d still have the option of barreling straight into the assassin’s back. In the most favorable worst case scenario, she’d at least be able to kill the Naer before she could kill Yana.

For a moment things seemed to be turning back around. The hunted woman had a strategy she was executing, with the hunter falling for it hook, line and sinker. Only, there was no chance for her to finish it, as she stared with disbelief and then just fell over. Seriously now?

The assassin freed herself from the board, standing up rather unsteadily, but eying the approaching Yludih with hatred and challenge in her eyes. Yana slowed down, beginning to approach more carefully. Charging at an aware target like a bull was a bad idea after all. The woman sneered, speaking in tongues Yana did not understand. However, the Yludih recognized the tone of voice easily enough. Provocation, taunts. Mocking too. The assassin spat a bloody blob on the ground at the end of her rant, knife at the ready. Yana wished she’d brought her shield. Or her bow. She could have sniped this woman from afar. Now she was undoubtedly going to injure herself again. She had to, even, since she did not think she could beat this woman if she didn’t. The element of surprise was probably Yana’s favorite concept to exploit. She coupled it with psychology if she could, but that meant getting hurt. Lull the enemy into a sense of superiority, deceive them, let them grow cocky. Then exploit that and end it in one shot.

She did not have a lot of time though, the Naer on the ground was forming strange discolorations on the skin. Poison seemed to be an obvious culprit. It would make sense for an assassin to use poisoned blades. It made the killing easier. Good. Yana could use that. She charged, eyes on the knife. One hand came up to grab the wrist of the Naer, the other readied a punch. It was easily dodged though, and Yana had to retreat quickly to avoid being cut. The assassin grinned mockingly. Yana frowned and tried again, getting in close to deliver a flurry of attacks. Punches, kicks, elbows and knees. None landed, all deftly dodged. The Naer launched a counterattack, unleashing a series of attacks of her own. Slashes left and right, swift and tight. There was little wasted motion, she was completely balanced. Yana could only barely dodge, not even having to pretend having difficulty. There was a break in the attacks then, a pause. Was she being careful or fooling around? Yana stumbled backwards, wide open as she lost her balance.

Before she knew it, the Naer was in her face, a blade in her stomach. Yana winced, yelping when the pain burned through her crystals and seared in her consciousness. But this was the opportunity she needed. Her hand shot out, grabbing the wrist of the Naer as she was about to pull it out. The grin on her face disappeared when the grip was not weak and loose as expected, but tight as a vice. Yana’s other hand had grabbed her by the collar of her clothes. A mighty pull to bring her close, a headbutt to send her reeling. She released the knife as she staggered backwards, the blade still lodged in Yana’s abdomen. The Yludih still held her wrist in a grip. The assassin seemed quite distraught at the lack of discoloration on her skin, the poison clearly not working. Speaking of which, there was no time to waste. The Yludih stabbed a metal rod at the assassin’s belly, willing the blade to form. It pierced through skin and internal organs, and Yana made sure to cut some more for good measure.

The assassin dropped, and Yana released the blade. She didn’t know how much time she had, but it probably wasn’t much, though Yana wasn’t really a font of knowledge and expertise when it came to poisons. Either way, she assumed the assassin would have some antivenom on her person in case she accidentally used it on herself, or if she was on the receiving end of the poison. Yana searched the dying Naer as quickly as she could, focusing her efforts on finding a small vial or something along those lines. It was found not too much later, though Yana wasn’t too sure if “not too much later” meant “in time” or “too late”. Nevertheless, she hurried over to the victim, uncorked the vial, and realized she had no idea what to do. Was she supposed to make her drink it? Smear it in her wound? Inject it in the bloodstream?

Unable to determine what the right call was, Yana opted to smear part of it in the wound, and pour part of it in the choking woman’s mouth. She’d seen a neat trick once, one to forcefully make someone swallow what was in their mouth. She pinched the nose shut, tilted the head backwards, and poured. The liquid made her unable to breathe entirely, so she swallowed. The remainder of the antidote was smeared into the wound, and then sealed off with improvised bandages made from the assassin’s cloak. Only then did Yana tend to herself, gritting her teeth as she pulled the dagger out of her body, flinching as she applied pressure with a futile hope of preventing any light escape. It simply leaded out from between her fingers. Due to lack of needle and gut she simply bandaged herself up as much as she could, deciding to depend on her body to seal the wound as quickly as it could.

She decided not to move the Naer too much, mostly because it hurt too much to do so. She did manage to maneuver her somewhere with less snow, somewhere less visible. That was all however, as Yana feared she’d be undoing her body’s efforts if she did anything else that intensive. Then it was only a matter of waiting for the Naer to wake up. If she would wake up. Yana sure hoped she would, it had cost her a little too much already. In hindsight, she could have handled things a little better, but still, she’d rather not see this investment to have been in vain. If there was anything the Yludih hated to bet on, it would be the wrong horse.

[Linika]

In what Linika believed to be her final moments, she could not deny the surprise that her complete weakness was not exploited by her enemy to do some horrifically agonizing last gesture; something to take home as a trophy to her sisters in Augiery. She expected to feel the blade shear through the cartilage of an ear or her nose, or create the start to allow her enemy to peel back a section of scalp, or to feel some sharpened metal scoop go to work on an eyeball.

There was certainly still enough sound of scuffling to suggest the lingering presence of her enemy. But her ears were starting to roar with the internal gasping for breath through her swollen throat. She felt her skin burning where the blotches of color were, as if she was lying upon a random array of small heated pans. If she had the strength, or the wind available, she would have screamed in pain. The inability to divert the body's senses to one's own screaming to distract it from pain, was an agony in itself. She simply had to lay there and feel every excruciating bit of it.

Finally, mercifully, death took her before her enemy subjected her to any final disfigurement...

Death...yes...a rather loud oblivion it seemed. Oddly similar in ambiance to the cold alley she'd just left. Of course, she'd never really considered how oblivion might sound. She'd supposed there may be vile laughter as the more brutal dead took out their frustrated anguish on weak newcomers. She vowed she would not be one of the victims...

Curious...Linika had not given the subject of lucid thought any...well...lucid thought. How was it she could think in actual cohesive terms? Were the dead allowed to retain identity? She still knew herself as Linika. For a moment, it settled her confusion that her dead self still seemed to be able to feel sensations. It explained why she'd assumed that dead spirits would be able to scream or laugh depending on their status among the damned...

But No! Everything still felt as if she was lying on a Viden street. This was not adding up!...If the laughter of the dead ought to be present, then where were they? Something grabbed her arm! Some spawn of Famula, come to punish her for her devotion to Audrae. She tried to cry out, and at the same moment that she remembered her swollen throat would never allow such passage of air, she heard her voice emit some feeble mockery of a cry.

A strangled, quivering whimper of pathetic wheezing, not even recognizable as a word. But it was sheer beauty to her! The slight, gasping gurgle, embodying her next inhale, was a symphony of resurrected salvation. She was NOT dead! Her arm burned where the poisoned wound had been. But not the same burn. This was healing warmth, not corrosion of tissue.

Instinct took over though, warning her of revealing her state to the enemy that must still be nearby. But no...she knew how long 'Stain' took to run its course, in the cases of non-lethal dosage. The very fact that she could collate this information in a mind that only moments ago had sunk into the dark embrace of nevermore was the last piece of this puzzle. The ambient light beyond her closed eyelids had not changed. Either no time had passed, or enough to bring the grey of dusk to replace that of dawn. Neither of those spans of time were correct. So very slowly she opened an eye, being ready to lock it into a death-like stare should her enemy still be gloating overhead.

But instead there was an eidisi woman looking down upon her. She looked almost as relieved as Linika felt. No, wait...not just any eidisi woman. This was the one that had assailed the second of the three naer that had come for her. She opened both her eyes now more fully. They were still little more than slits, but the eidisi's eyes were locked on them all the same.

The effort to begin to even attempt to sit up was crushed by a wave of nausea that could have submerged an Orm'del island. It actually became a matter of fair importance for her to roll herself to the side to vomit without choking on it. And the same wave of nausea perpetuated the ugly cycle. She was unsure of how many heaves she endured before her body became accustomed to this new position.

But there was information to garner, even in such demeaning positions as lying on one's side in the gutter, trying to avoid soaking in your own vomit, while the movements necessary to prevent it only bring more up. The taste! if one wanted to call it that...

The acidic sour of stomach acid, present in most "upheavals" was replaced by an odd chalky, mineral neutrality of flavor. Linika would have laughed if it would not have made her seize up again. The eidisi had given her the antidote by mouth! A blood poison? Stymied by something ingested? It was absurd. Ingested poisons and antidotes both needed stomach acid to trigger; at least partially.

Well, obviously this woman did not know anything about compound blending and triggering reagents. Didn't it occur to her that something that has to go through the timely process of digestion is not going to get into the bloodstream anywhere near fast enough to counter a toxin put into the veins as directly as through a wound.

The puzzlement of wondering how she had then been saved naturally followed this line of thought. Then she recalled the burning on her arm. That explained it! This eidisi had apparently not known what she was doing and simply covered all her options. If it was not for the debilitating effect of "eating" a blood-poison antidote, she'd have hugged her for playing it so safe. She was alive, after all. Sick, but alive. Not only that, she had not avoided the contents of her voided stomach all that successfully. The eidisi would probably not appreciate being hugged right now.

She laughed at the grizzly humor of it all, choking and retching emptiness as she did. Fortunately, the actual voiding had been done so quickly after ingestion that full recovery did not take long. Those garments soiled by the ordeal, were conveniently able to be switched with corresponding items, not soiled by blood, upon the persons of the naer assassins.

As Linika gave her impromptu accessorizing as critical an eye as the situation allowed, she gave a smile to the eidisi. "I must confess I am at a bit of a loss. I do not generally find eidisi willing to help strange naer. Nor, to be honest, able to kill trained naer. They tend to focus so much more on intellectual pursuits that they...well...in my experience...up until this moment...are not ready for a fight."

She checked her hand casually for vomit. Finding none, she extended it to her unexpected savior, "I must also confess I am delighted to find this exception to the rule...both rules, actually. Who are you, if I may not be considered too pushy to ask. And why do you help me?"

[Yanahalqah]

Yana was not necessarily an impatient person, but now there was no denying her anxiety. She wanted the woman to recover and wake up as fast as possible. She knew that medicine could not be rushed, and recovery was often a slow and steady process. Nevertheless, she wanted to get off the streets as soon as possible. She wasn’t sure just how far the Videnese hatred of Naer went, but she suspected that it would not keep an investigation at bay. If she was seen here, it was possible she’d face trial, or at least be questioned for an extensive amount of time. Time she could use for more proactive activities. She’d have carried the Naer to her room if she could, but she’d rather not risk straining herself. Not that the pain in her abdomen would even allow her to carry out such tasks anyway.

It was with no small amount of relief that she saw the Naer regain consciousness, an eye opening just barely. Barely was enough for Yana, barely meant she had done something right at least. Whether it was the oral intake or smearing it in the wound, one of the two had clearly worked. Probably the smear, considering the Naer was vomiting her guts out. That, or maybe it was just a side effect of the recovery. Yana didn’t know, nor did she care. The Naer was alive, which was the most important part.

Still, she was very sick, spilling all her stomach’s contents, and then just continuing to retch without anything coming out. Yana raised an eyebrow at the laughter cut short by more retching. The humor of the situation escaped her, but she assumed the Naer was just glad to be still alive. As she should. When the worst had passed and the woman was looting the corpses for new, unsullied clothes, Yana slowly got onto her feet, groaning and grunting as her wound burned and stabbed. This had been a costly victory indeed. She hoped the result was worth it.

“Racial stereotypes cannot be applied to all individuals of a race,” Yana shrugged, ironically aware of her definite status as non-Eídisi. “They hold truth, but not the whole truth, nor a universal one.” She gave a tiny smile. “That said, racial stereotypes are also the reason I was victorious, and you are alive. If it were any other Eídisi, I assume the outcome could have been less than favorable.”

She shook the extended hand briefly when it was offered to her. It did not last for longer than necessary, and oozed business-like formality. It was a handshake molded and shaped by countless interactions with her peers. It was a handshake a father would teach his son, a handshake he would be proud of. Not weak or flimsy, nor delicate and fragile, but strong and firm. A soldier’s handshake.

“Saeri LaChasse,” Yana answered, suppressing the habit of falling into a salute. “Steward of the Iron Hand. And you are?” Usually it was considered polite to introduce oneself before asking the name of another, but well, Yana wasn’t really one for etiquette when it wasn’t necessary. “We would better leave first. We can talk while walking. If anything, I would rather have the corpses be found when I am not around.”

She didn’t really wait, instead she slowly started walking, feeling her movements twist and stretch her tummy with every step, causing stabs of pain again and again. She pressed a hand onto the wound as if it would help. In the meantime she considered going about this. She’d rather not beat around the bush, lying would complicate matters. Clear talk might be appreciated, she thought.
“Why help you?” she echoed the question from a bit or so ago. “Simple. Self-interest. I have a favor to ask, and now I have leverage.” She counted on the gratitude of the Naer to comply with her request, but if that failed, then perhaps the rumored pride of the Naerikk would help. “You were fortunate I need a Naer, and that I was around. And that your assassins did not want to give me time of day,” she spoke honestly. “If you had been anything but a Naer, I would have stayed out of it and left you to die.” It was said rather nonchalantly, almost as if she were speaking about the weather.

“I am telling you this because I do not feel like lying about it,” she preempted the question she felt was coming. “That, and it is said that honesty is the best policy.” All good relationships –be they personal or business—were based on honesty, were they not? “Either way, the favor is but small. Nothing to it, really. But it would help me out immensely. I have some items in my possession which I believe are of Naerikk make. I have tried to find someone able to identify them, and explain how they work. Who better to ask than a Naer?”

[Linika]

Reality does not temper it's harsh clarity with compassion. Linika's thrill over her salvation passed quickly into despair, as the very nature of her love of battle recalled the many ways in which naerikk society embraced this combative culture; the culture that was now represented by three sisters-turned-would-be-killers. It all flooded back to her with Yvithia's assertion that Audrae would not give her a chance to explain, and would send killers to dispatch her.

She might not have felt the mockery of the world in her heart had it not just been soaring with the satisfaction that she'd proven the ice Queen wrong; and that her naerikk sisters had come to carry her home to the glory she should have won for her timely warning of Lisirra's, Aelig's and, worst of all, Syroa's, treachery.

Yes, she'd had to surrender her hope of accomplishing her original mission; an extremely long-term, infiltration type of covert operation, under the cover of being an exile. But the warning was so vastly important that it could very well have been the mission she'd been sent to perform, given its global ramifications; and how it had allowed her matron Queen to triumph against the three traitors. Nor had she revealed her original mission, even under the tortures of Viden's 'Intelligence Authority'.

Instead, the three naer had been sent, as her great enemy had predicted, to kill her. The mark of Xypha, defacing her proud naerikk honor, burned suddenly with tears of betrayal. She tried to tell herself, as the eidisi yakked on about stereotypes, corpses, self-interest and leverage, that these must have only been some rogue team that had only heard of the exile status of her presence in Viden, and was not representative of what her home truly thought of her.

Her heart clutched eagerly at this rationale and she was able to wipe away most of the tears, forgetting that the Xypha mark was now plainly visible. She would need to return home and reapply her cosmetics. She turned to the eidisi, wanting to cover her loss of control with some explanation. Her mouth gaped aimlessly for a moment as any take on her situation struck her as still somehow classified.

Some of the other woman's words came back to her now, however. They did not foster a mood of generosity. A cold smile of understanding crossed her face as the context of 'leverage' found purchase in her mind. "I see..." she muttered, salvation turning suddenly to coercion, "So, not the 'do-gooder' one might have thought. And you would have me think twice about stereotypes, would you? Here I am, a naer in dire need, and you, an eidisi, will help me only at cost of recompense. What a complete departure from the anticipated sterotype." she sneered, her sarcasm withering.

Again, though her bitterness would be understandable, her pride, and her need to believe in her people forced her into contrition. She could not play this part as anything but a true exile, who would not really have any cause to withhold a favor to a citizen, as she currently thought this eidisi to be. "Well, I would not have it said that a naer would not value her own life enough to pay for it. If it matters, I am Linika Amarinthine, exile of Augiery. I'd give you a tale of wrongful accusations and crushed hopes for vindication, but I suspect that isn't part of the bargain."

How much of the initial meeting, or her joy at the onset of it, that this eidisi had seen, Linika had no idea, but any further comment could only lead to information she should not reveal. She was on the verge of asking what it was she was now obliged to do when one more thing the woman had said came back to her; 'Steward of the Iron Hand'. Her contact in Andaris, the one who had relayed the very warning that should be cause for the renown she had thus far been denied, had mentioned this 'Iron Hand' in a missive or two. "That is an Andaris organization, isn't it? City Guard, Royal Guard, or some such?"

She wondered briefly if this Andaris contact of hers was suffering some similar reversal of gratitude as a result of saving the wretched world from the machinations of the three monsters. It did not consciously register that she was developing a deeper hatred for those three than she still held for Yvithia. Again, she choked off her desire to ask about her messenger in Andaris. It would not fit her cover to act as if it mattered to her.

There was just an odd mental twitch though, from the woman. Linika sensed it through her mark. Just the bare hint of apprehension over this last question. She assumed the woman had been disgraced or something, possibly dismissed, rather than any worry over her race possibly being revealed. It served to bring her just a slightly more positive assessment of the woman's motivation. 'So she too, is a reject from some place of accomplishment, eh? Putting up a tough, uncaring front?'

The naer found that the thought that this spawn of Viden had had to go elsewhere to gain rank, and then had had to return here, brought a measure of identifying empathy to her heart. She gave the woman a little closer look now...And saw the Switching Sword!

Her world reeled for a moment, as she staggered between notions that this was either a dread enemy, or someone she should be kneeling before. She stammered, "O-o..only a...naer...may c-carry one of those! You have killed a Swordmistress? What do you need of me, then? That it be worth the bother of saving my life?"

The woman explained about having a few items she needed to learn the functions of. Linika was torn with the thought that she may truly be committing an act of treason by giving any information to this woman. "I admit, my curiosity screams at me to comply. But I must first know how you came to possess that sword, as well as whatever these other items are that you need to learn more about. I must know that I am not aiding an enemy of Mother Audrae."

Glancing around with sudden concern, Linika found that a more private venue would be preferable after all. "Yes, let's remove ourselves. I think you are not all you seem, and I would know more in exchange for information." Again that twitch of apprehension came from the eidisi. Now curiosity bloomed full in the naer's mind. "I think you need not worry too much about the guards. They will be easily persuaded to assume self-defense on my part; more easily than you'd think, I'm sure. Yvithia herself will no doubt be celebrating the event."

Several tangents of thought converged, and it occurred to her all at once that the Xypha mark was in plain display on her face. She smiled at the irony of having just told the eidisi that she thought she was not all she seemed. No doubt the eidisi would be thinking the same of her.