• Graded • [Fishing in the debris]: A race to Desnind

[Sel'ma]

It sure was Sel’ma the naer had spotted among the people on the deck of Wind Spirit. The sevir had been following the latest events of the naer’s attempts at escaping with increasing indignation. When she saw Linika hit her unsuspecting company in the head with an oar she shouted loudly, just like the other people who witnessed it.

The stolen canoe moved forward at a slow and unskilled path that revealed the naer’s somewhat lacking competence, and as several small boats were now approaching, it looked bleak for the naer. Sel’ma with her experience of Linika and how far the naer could take things was however not so sure they really would succeed to catch her. She wanted to say it, wanted to make people understand that they were dealing with something dangerous beyond what they were aware of.

There was something extreme with Linika, extreme beyond what could be understood, thought Sel’ma, as she watched a few boats start to move on the direction of the hijacked canoe that carried Linika and her unvoluntary unconscious passenger. She had learnt during this day that naer was capable of anything, anything, including brutal murder of innocent children and she didn’t doubt that the man in the canoe had seen his last day. Linika might look like a beautiful human girl with colorful eyes, but Sel’ma knew better.

Just like sev’ryn physically looked like ordinary humans but weren’t, the naerikk looked like ordinary human’s but weren’t. Sel’ma recalled the alien mental scent, the vague sensations of a reddish quality she for one had found repulsive, the naer’s peculiar refusal to listen to logics and common sense in favor of stubbornly going to any length, do get things her way or die trying. She figured that if people didn’t realize that, they could underestimate the madness of the naer, and thus fail to catch her.

There was no way Sel’ma could tell people about all this, in the broken common she mastered at this age. It would have taken long time and been totally unclear, and she knew it would be just be mistaken for the confused babbling of a native girl full of suspect ideas and imaginations. And she didn’t want Linika to get the slightest chance to get away after all she had done, so Sel’ma was going to take this to extremes too, and follow. She couldn't speak much, so she was going to act instead.

When one of the boats that were going for the canoe was approaching, aiming to sail past the big shop and persecute the naer, Sel’ma grabbed a rope that had been left hanging over the side of the ship, held on to it and jumped over the ship’s side, and then she climbed down, pushing off with her feet against the hull while moving her hands down the rope. She had done similar things many times in the wilds, and this part of her wilderness experience was useful here too. Despite being tired, and paying no heed to the upset shouts from above, she made it down and jumped onboard the smaller boat.

The sailor was surprised when she entered, but as he could see it was just a sevir, he didn’t stop to bother about Sel’ma. And so she was on her way, in one of the boats that were soon to catch up with Linika and her latest victim. Sel’ma cheered the sailor on, in the hopes of getting to be there when Linika was seized, and help with what she could, if anything. She felt a bit like Linika was “hers” and she was entitled to be there personally at the end of the near hunt. Exactly what she planned to do was unclear to her, but she wanted to be there.

It actually seemed like it would soon be over now, and justice would prevail.

This would surely be the end of Linika Sharksoul !

OOC: And yeah, I read up about the naerikk lore, so bring it on

[Linika]

Linika continued to row, seemingly oblivious of the narrowing corridor of water that she could travel without colliding with some other vessel, many of which contained several armed and angry sevir men-at-arms. They probably did not know the specifics of what the person in the boat had done, but it was clear that she was not to be allowed to escape. Because such rowing was done with your back toward the bow, the naer target had to look behind her from time to time to mark her direction, and make whatever adjustments she chose.

Common sense would have told anyone in the naer's position that there was no escape, that there were more than enough boats capable of the equally quick adjustments necessary to cut her off, no matter which path she chose across the bay. Yet she persisted, her looks over her shoulder displaying casual disregard for reality. The men in the hostile boats could only shake their heads at her denial as they closed in.

Suddenly she stopped rowing and let the oar drop. The boat drifted on, closing the gap now without diversion. The security forces in the boats also let off on the labor of hurried pursuit, thinking that the criminal had finally accepted defeat. Several of them now called messages of assurance to their quarry, assuring her that she was doing the right thing; that she would be fairly treated and that cooperation would surely lessen any penalties that might be assessed against her. They told her to simply remain seated and be prepared to be boarded. They acknowledged that manacles would be placed upon her, but that she would be allowed the dignity of walking to the cells. Nor would any corporal punishment be inflicted upon her.

Linika ignored them, except for the aspect of knowing how close they were getting. Their words were irrelevant, the bleating of sheep. Her mind was across the continent from them, her focus on a regimen of discipline known only to herself and her sisters in Augiery. 'Mother's Blessing', 'Mother's Revenge', 'The Gift', whatever you chose to call it, it was only bestowed upon the children of Audrae. And only with strict meditation, and understanding of its potential backlash. The closer she let her adversaries approach, the more potent would be the effect, and the less debilitation upon herself.

Her mind reached to depths of her physical self, seeking to feel the beating of her heart, not just the slight sense of pulse, but the actual lurching of muscle tissue, the alternating pressure on different ribs from the pulling and pushing of the organ against the bounds of its chest cavity. But more, the timing of the brain's impulses to send the energy to empower this function. Then followed the similar mental alignment with other functions; the impulse to breathe, the steadying of bone and tissue structure against the rocking of the boat. The flow and flux of fluids in her inner ear, the signal-gathering functions of eardrum and nostril, tongue and eyes. All gathered in a central knot of ever-building, pressurized stasis, as her body prepared to unleash the flash of overload.

It was as if by denying herself all the stimuli of living, she could build it to a greater and greater backlash of overload. The closer her targets got, the more severe the impact upon their own functions. the closer they got, the easier it got to actually align her patterns to them, giving her even harsher impact upon them. And they were now so very close. She felt the pressure building, as if she were holding her breath but trying to scream, the way a child will make their face turn red during a tantrum, but encompassing her entire body, and now the bodies of two or three sevir as well.

And then...she screamed...finally...and felt herself empty of all energy in a flash of hate and mental violence. All patterns of energy in those anywhere near her fractured into shivering disruption. For a moment she was deafened by the backlash against her own body, and for even longer she was effectively paralyzed. But the screams, the terror, the wailings of unknown affliction rebounded on these same senses, filling her with the balm of satisfied hostility. She believed the boat was still moving forward, she felt it impact with something and heard cries and splashes of unbalanced enemies hitting the water.

She lay in a near swoon, but knew the excitement of triumph. Never had she been called upon to perform 'Mother's Gift', but she knew she had done it to near perfection, and tears of gratitude to her matron, for this last, great retribution against the enemy, filled her with heaving sobs. She could not move, but it seemed as though she could make use of a single sensation, and it seemed that she could affect a choice of which one it was to be. Naturally, it was hearing she chose, the better to enjoy the floundering bleats of those that had sought to ensnare her, as they cried in fear and frustration; their cries now clearly all coming from one side of her. She was through! She was past!

One last gift from Mother Audrae found her rejoicing ears; that one voice, that same broken common, fluctuating with the hated tongue of Desnind, the voice of Sel'ma, she was sure of it, cutting through the din of fear with pure anguished fury. It was all she could do to restrain her laughter. Not only did she have genuine concern that it might overpower the last reserve which kept her conscious, and she wanted to hear her foes vent their rage for as long as she could. But she also knew that if she laughed aloud, it might mark her location enough for blind pursuit to remain troublesome once the effects of the gift wore off.

She tried to rise and continue rowing, but she could still hardly move. So she lay and reveled silently in her enemies waning cries. Finally they were silent, and she allowed herself to laugh. It was pure rapture. Not only did she give vent to a scorn she had had to repress while she was on the docks, but she could feel her body laughing! All was working, hugely diminished in capability, but functioning nonetheless. She laughed herself to sleep, drifting out of the harbor toward the open sea, the device still safe in her pocket.

[Sel'ma]

Sel’ma had no sight. No hearing. She couldn’t feel her body anymore, not smell anything or feel any taste on her tongue. The naer’s scream had made those five senses people used to take for granted withdraw and close down. All the constant perceptions they had used to continuously give Sel’ma was gone.

Her five physical average human senses had been blocked out. There was a moment of profound darkness and silence where she existed in nothingness, like a soul without a body. As she had no contact with her physical body she was also unable to move. She didn’t know it, but she sat as paralyzed in the boat, empty-eyed and void of reaction,as did the other few who had been closest to the naer and taken the brunt of her terrifying gift.

Those who had been at the periphery of Linika’s range had been hit milder, but it was only the direct effects that were milder, while the consequences in practice were worse. Being totally blocked, like Sel’ma, meant sitting nicely in the boat like an abandoned vegetagle. The ones further away from the epicenter of the scream were nearly, but just nearly blinded, and nearly but only nearly deaf. It was the same with their ability to move; they were nearly but only nearly paralyzed, but still able to exercise some small amount of control over their bodies and move with a feeling of terrifying slowness that otherwise only occur in nightmares. They were able to feel fear, could see vague shadows, hear the shouts of themselves and others like distant, ghostly sounds. Some of them were screaming in shock and terror, some were panicking, and despite how painfully slowly they moved they managed to fall in the water.

The people in the boats that had been late to the attack were few, and they had to focus all their efforts on saving the afflicted people who risked drowning. Going after one single naer at the expense of a lot of lives wouldn’t have been in line with nature’s best. Saving as many lives as possible came first to the sev'ryn. But as Sel’ma was just sitting there, immovable, she was left to sit there for time being, while people were being hauled up from the ocean.

And in the absence of what used to be called “ the five senses” by the humans, the special sev’ryn spiritual awareness that normally was overridden by these, emerged and came to the front of her mind. Unrivaled by “the five senses” now, her still young and growing spiritual perception shone with a sharpness and clarity she had never experienced before.

In her inner vision she mentally saw and heard the chaos around her. She “saw” in all directions at once, as this wasn’t the sight of her eyes and it wasn’t dependent on the direction she face. She followed the rescue of the people who had fallen in the water, and in parallel she could also see the “picture” of the naer who was disappearing with the stolen canoe, just a reddish shadow that sailed into the greater darkness of the evening and was gone.

Sel’ma watched this, with a kind of sight that wasn’t sight, but a kind of perception that could be called “sight” in lack of more accurate words.

Unable to feel her body with the normal physical sense of feeling she was also unable to react with the kind of mental feelings that were connected to the body. Her reaction when the naer seemed to be getting away was as “other” as her other sense of “sight”. The mental “feeling” could be described more of an intuitive insight than what normally was called emotion. She didn’t feel rage. She didn’t feel hate or vindictiveness. Instantaneously, an “insight” emerged, about something else; it was perhaps righteousness.

Set things to right. This was her purpose. She would set things to right. This she knew with total conviction.

Although she wasn’t able to feel or control her own tongue or the rest of her organs of speech, she shouted these words as a message after the disappearing naer: Things would be set to right. It was her own voice that resounded over the water, somewhat hoarser than it used to be, hoarse like the call of a crow. She perceived this voice in her mind as a soft flutter of wings as it flew through her, using her physical body as a passive channel, an instrument played by another presence. It was her voice, but she wasn't the one speaking.

For a fraction of a trill Sel'ma suddenly felt she knew who she would be when she had found her familiar and become whole, but then then the insight vanished like a fading dream. The world was going black. Again, there was the soft flutter of wings in her mind, like a voice without sound. “This is the deep sleep” it said. “One day. One day you will sleep and we will fly. Recall. Remember me.”

The rescue operation was in full swing around her and eventually she was taken care of and brought back to Desnind, where she like all others was left in the care of healers who supervised her until the effect of the naer’s “gift” receded and she came back to the five human senses again. She was told the story about what had happened. They hadn’t found Linika and it was assumed that the naer had sailed for her secretive home city Augiery.

There was something in her clothes. She picked out the small item and investigated it. It was a flute, a small flute, made of some kind of white metal. Sel’ma vaguely recalled how she had happened to get hold of it when she pushed away the corpse in the water at the wreckage. This seemed so long ago now, and nearly dreamlike, but the flute in her hand was solid and the clear tone when she blew it tentatively was as clear as the singing voice of little Be’rine. The events at the wreckage had been as real as the flute was.

And so Sel’ma told the whole story, beginning with how she had gone to Wind Spirit looking for a job onboard and continued to the beach and found the naer. She told every detail of it as well as she could recall it, and put great effort into getting it correct, in her way of thinking. After this she answered questions, and told some parts of her story again.

People were sent to look for the lost sevirs. Sel’ma sat alone. In the silence she searched inwards for the soundless voice of fluttering wings, but it was gone now, like it had never existed. But she knew it existed. She was sev'ryn and didn't doubt it had been her familiar. One day. One day she would find it, wherever it was ...

[Linika]

Epilogue: Linika

The sun sent stark streaks of light through the darkness of the grotto. Linika sat, trying to resist the grim hollow of sudden loneliness. She had returned with the news of the failure of the mission. It had really only been necessary to fill in the details. Her disheveled appearance had been enough to fuel the overall assumption that the device remained untested. Her briefing had been harsh, but some vindication had been granted by her retrieval of the rudder snare device.

A slap had thwarted her complete surrender to tears, such behavior being seen as weakness, and utterly out of place for the briefing chambers. Again, however, allowances were made in connection to the sweeping loss of her entire clique. And though the loss of such a sisterhood was admittedly a terrible thing to bear, she was still ordered out of the chamber and told to return when she could conduct herself properly.

She returned a break later, in control of herself, and gave an accounting of all that had occurred. She actually ended up receiving praise for her daring in returning to enemy ground to retrieve the rudder snare, despite the town being alerted to her presence. Her use of the gift was viewed with understanding. It was judged to have been completely necessary and justified. As a result, she was given a leave of duty for ten trials. This was not only to give her time for solitary grieving, but also due to the debilitating effects of the gift on the performance of such duties. The fact that she had already had ten or twelve trials of recovery time while sailing the boat home also affected the length of this term of leisure.

Everyone knew it would be a full cycle before she could be expected to perform up to the level of her assessment prior to using the gift. But the subtle disdain that would begin after her leave of duty would motivate her to improve. By the time the after-effects of the gift fully ran their course, the efforts she would have been goaded into making would bring her to surpass her current grade. And the anger at the mockery of her peers would help her overcome the sadness of her loss. It was tough love at an extreme, and she took it this way. But for now she was off duty, sitting in 'The Grotto of Heart's Armor', thinking back on what had happened after she'd cleared the harbor of Desnind.

By the time she had regained some control of her body, after dispensing 'the gift', she'd found herself far from land, and had returned to the north coast of the continent. By the time she'd oriented herself, she realized she was well past the point where her sisters' bodies had been broken and discarded on the rocks and in the tide pools. She thought of trying to back track and find them, but the need of fresh water overrode this idea. She found it very difficult to even climb from the outrigger to make her way ashore to search for a stream or pool.

Seeing the boat, when she returned, also brought on the return of the sorrowful memories of the deaths of both her sisters and Be'rine. But the swiftly triggered memory of Sel'ma and Jao'vier, allowing that pearl of a girl to be lost, gave her the angry strength she needed to press on.

Still, she'd had to make another stop for water, and another after that. Signs of the storm followed her the entire time. Inwardly, she was disgusted with herself for not making an effort to search any obvious wreckage for the bodies of her sisters. She rationalized this failing as stemming from her need to return to Augiery and give her report. Her poor sailing skill gave some legitimacy to this cover, seeing as it was taking her so long to make any progress by boat. But such a trek overland would have been much worse.

Her third stop for water, however, brought her to be noticed by a reconnoitering squad of sisters, who came to her aid, giving her tonics for recovery and boosts of strength. It was everyone's good fortune that one of this group was an accomplished sailor, and they made good time after that, arriving at the hidden entry to the port a mere three trials later.

Perhaps surprisingly to some, but not to her, there was regret expressed by her superiors, at her briefing, at the loss of 'this prospect, 'Be'rine'. Her description of the child's intuition, and cool under pressure, vindicated her assessment that Be'rine could have been made into a fine naer. This, probably more than anything, gave her heart the lift it needed to begin healing. At the same time, it solidified the wall she built to armor the loathing she held for Sel'ma. Joa'vier had been a male, and therefore, not of enough relevance to earn true contempt.

It was time to begin making new friends. She imagined that Be'rine looked in on her from some spiritual sphere of existence. This was not precisely in line with Naerikk cultural thinking, but it gave her an odd comfort. She had no doubt that Be'rine shared her disdain for Sel'ma. She grudgingly accepted that the girl would be unlikely to include her own father in this judgment. She was not born a naer after all.

In the meantime, she had discovered that she still possessed the woman's amulet. She almost threw it away in loathing, but stopped herself. Somehow, it struck her that keeping it would mystically improve her chances of seeing the sevir again. She would return the amulet then. A hard grin grew across her face like the shadows of approaching evening. 'Oh yes, she would give the bitch everything she was owed...'

[Nymph]

Sel'ma

Withheld due to retirement. Please contact me if Sel'ma is brought out of retirement.

Linika

Skills

• Tactics: 2
  Socialization: 2
  Stealth: 1
  Observation: 3
  Seafaring: 5
  Swimming: 2
  Melee Combat: 1
  Strength: 1
  Acting: 2

Knowledge: Basic

• Stealth: Nighttime over Daytime
  Melee Combat: Everything is a Weapon

Knowlege: Specific

• Resilience: A Form of Strength
  Mother's Gift: How to Call Upon It
  Mother's Gift: The Price
  Be'rine: An Angel
  Sel'ma: A Demon

Loot

• Sel'ma's Amulet remains in your possession

Side Effects

• Any memory threads that occur in Ymiden 704 will result in skills being deducted by half due to the presence of the side-effects of Mother's Gift.

If you have any questions, please contact me and we can discuss my grade.