"You almost died?! And you saw a vision of your great-dragon ancestor? What the hells happened behind that mirror?" Dounia realized they hadn't properly talked about the time they'd been separated in the first room. "From our point of view, you two went in the mirror and within seconds copies of you started coming out. You were only gone maybe 20 seconds or less before you came out too."
***
"Time for my confession. Turns out our good friend Tandyraman did a bunch of research on me! He figured out my mom is a potter in Ciriya. I have two brothers, an older brother, and a twin! He didn't figure out who my father was, so I guess mom and pop aren't married. And, get this, no mention of a sister." Dounia said this all very fast, and kept her eyes on the images over the lake, so nobody could tell if there were tears in her eyes.
"So anyway, who knows if any of this is true, and obviously I have to talk to Tandyraman some more. Anyhow, those pale ladies? There are five of them, and they used to be one lady! Sounds like she was a nasty piece of work, betraying people to get rich, and Hallwyn tricked her into a wish that divided her into 5 people. Now they want to get turned back into one person again."
”There are connections enough for a skald’s epic between us four,” Tymythy said. ”The first time I met you, Cairee, as you reached out to heal me, I saw in your amulet the image of a starling – a messenger of the Black-Winged Lord, the very same creature that had guided me on this vision quest. Coincidence? I doubt it - I know not who guides your steps, but I know I am here for a purpose, and you three are part of my fate."
Cairee's hand went automatically to the pendant at her throat. It was just a stone she'd found in the woods behind her house as a child. It had looked like a bird's wing, so she'd kept it, and later learned how to secure it with strips of leather carefully knotted to create a necklace. Strange that it should mean so much to Tymythy as well. No, not strange, she corrected herself. Perhaps it is fate.
"I'm a descendent of Silimiel...I saw him during the second challenge...when I almost died."
Cairee was still sitting with Zahra, who had been comforting her during her difficult story. Now it was the cleric's turn to comfort her friend. She put her arm around Zahra's shoulders and gave her a squeeze. The image of her friend being stabbed by a double and falling to the floor played before her eyes. She had been so close to death. It had taken all of the healing strength Cairee had left to revive her. She shuddered, and squeezed her friend tighter.
"Time for my confession. Turns out our good friend Tandyraman did a bunch of research on me! He figured out my mom is a potter in Ciriya. I have two brothers, an older brother, and a twin! He didn't figure out who my father was, so I guess mom and pop aren't married. And, get this, no mention of a sister."
"Cyra's not your sister?!" Cairee blurted out loudly. Good thing they were in their quarters, where no one could overheard her outburst. "But then how...who..." She stopped herself. Of course Dounia had no answers. She must be overwhelmed. "Did he say if they're still alive or how you came to be with Cyra? When we're done with this 'party' we'll help you find them."
"And then there's the fact that we may not get to choose first. So I guess that we should rank our choices. Personally my choice is Portcullis, Mirror, Escutcheoned, then Ash."
"That's fine with me. I'll do my best to prepare some spells that will be helpful based on the little we know about the challenges. And of course we should purchase some boons with the funds Yoy'ya has procured." She turned to their benefactor. "You had mentioned I should upgrade my armour. Do you have any recommendations? I need something that won't impede my ability to connect with Saiph."
"You almost died?! And you saw a vision of your great-dragon ancestor? What the hells happened behind that mirror?" Dounia realized they hadn't properly talked about the time they'd been separated in the first room. "From our point of view, you two went in the mirror and within seconds copies of you started coming out. You were only gone maybe 20 seconds or less before you came out too."
”For me, nothing much happened,” Tymythy said, surprised to hear about Zahra’s tale of a near-death vision. ”The place felt… wrong. There was no one particular thing to cause concern, but… there was something in the air. The place felt strange, alien. I did not wish to spend any more time there than necessary… but there were no direct threats. Likely to try and lure us into taking our time before returning, so more of those shape-stealers could be swanned by the magic of the mirror. I got down to the ground, saw the glint I had spied in the mirror was another part of that strange silvery key. The moment I touched it, the gravity flipped. A painful experience for us, true, but we decided if it happened on one side of the mirror it might have happened on the other side as well, and if you were still waiting by the mirror on your side… so, we rushed back. Too late to do much to help with the shape-stealers, I am sorry to say, as you had had to deal with a number of them before our return.”
"So anyway, who knows if any of this is true, and obviously I have to talk to Tandyraman some more. Anyhow, those pale ladies? There are five of them, and they used to be one lady! Sounds like she was a nasty piece of work, betraying people to get rich, and Hallwyn tricked her into a wish that divided her into 5 people. Now they want to get turned back into one person again."
”Blood of my ancestors,” Tymythy breathed, not doubting Dounia’s words, as impossible as they sounded. He had seen enough and more of strange magic in the last couple days that he was willing to accept pretty much anything happening, even more so with they Fey influence all about them. ”What is our host, in truth, to be able to wield all these powers?”
"Time for my confession. Turns out our good friend Tandyraman did a bunch of research on me! He figured out my mom is a potter in Ciriya. I have two brothers, an older brother, and a twin! He didn't figure out who my father was, so I guess mom and pop aren't married. And, get this, no mention of a sister."
Zahra gasped. Before she could speak, Cairee asked the exact same question in the exact same manner that she would have. How was is that Cyra wasn't Dounia's sister? Did that mean that Dounia had been taken from her family when she was really young? If so, why?
That is both exciting and upsetting news. Maybe that's who you saw at the opera. I think we need to speak with Tandyraman to find out where he found this information. It will give us somewhere to follow up when we get back. Cairee is right, we'll help you find your family." Seems like they'd be in the people finding business for the next little while after this birthday party was over.
As for Dounia's other revelation, Zahra felt bad for the women but didn't really think there was anything they could do. They couldn't fix the consequences of everyone's choices. But it did serve as a cautionary tale that a wish could have unwanted and unforeseen consequences.
And of course we should purchase some boons with the funds Yoy'ya has procured.
"And healing. If there's an elixir or tonic that we can carry in an emergency, that would be great."
"... I think I was captured by the slavers on the day of Ti 66. That would be about 45 days ago ..."
Prem, "By the sun, the moons, and all their batty children! Captured by slavers?! What have you been through???"
-
The sorceress gave Yoy'ya a small smile, "And it's Silimiel. I'm a descendent of Silimiel. I'm not sure if that should be common knowledge but I am proud of that from everything I have been learning about them."
Yoy'ya, "Ummm, ok. You're a descendant of a dragon named Silimuel. I'm afraid it's as much a mystery to me now as it was when I heard the rumour last night. What it means to me is you sound like you have a lot to live up to. My guess is it has a lot more to do with your life after this party. Spirits! I just remembered, this is a birthday party."
-
”Blood of my ancestors, What is our host, in truth, to be able to wield all these powers?”
Yoy'ya, "I don't know, but I'm starting to suspect he's a lot more than just another leader of just another secretive society. Is he even the leader. People are talking about a nine foot tall blue woman who fought off the ... the ... I don't know, ogres and magic people, last night. Maybe she's in charge."
Yoy'ya, "I don't know, but I'm starting to suspect he's a lot more than just another leader of just another secretive society. Is he even the leader. People are talking about a nine foot tall blue woman who fought off the ... the ... I don't know, ogres and magic people, last night. Maybe she's in charge."
”Like attracts like, and our host seems to gather those with power to him like a mongrel gathers lice,” Tymythy sighed. ”Not that we are in a position to do anything about it, except our best to survive. And speaking of… we should put the gifts given to us by our audience to use, as you have suggested. If we can’t carry that favor with us when we leave, we might as well invest it in ourselves. And those spheres of gold and pearls we got earlier… this would be something we promised you a share of, is it not? A tenth of the spoils of war? So, how do you want to do this? One of the pearls and all three of the golden balls fall a bit short of the amount, I believe? Should we just set aside two of the pearls and see what we might add to the pile from the next challenge? That way, at least, you wouldn't be left without your due.”
Yoy'ya held one of the pearls up and rolled it between her finger and thumb. Then she held one of the gold balls in her hand, feeling its' weight. "Yes, one pearl and three gold balls will work. By my estimate you owe me just over two pieces of gold. But this will do for now. I really thought there'd be more opportunity for collecting coin in the challenges. Nothing is ever sure when it comes to money."
Yoy'ya, "I don't know, but I'm starting to suspect he's a lot more than just another leader of just another secretive society. Is he even the leader. People are talking about a nine foot tall blue woman who fought off the ... the ... I don't know, ogres and magic people, last night. Maybe she's in charge."
Dounia said, "Not, that blue lady IS Hallwyn. That's what Tandyraman said. He's a djinn. I guess that's why he does all the wishes. Though....I think I wasn't supposed to mention that...."
"By the sun, the moons, and all their batty children! Captured by slavers?! What have you been through???"
Cairee couldn't help but giggle a little at Prem's exclamation. How would The Adherents react to Leila's children being called batty? "It was a dark and scary time. But it led me to Zahra, Tymythy and Dounia. And now to you and Yoy'ya. As Tymythy says, our fates must be entwined."
She watched as Zahra handed over a pearl and three gold balls to Yoy'ya. "We should offer the same to you," she said to Prem. "I don't know what we'd do without your guidance and support." She looked at the Blackbirds for their approval.
She turned back to Yoy'ya and Prem. "What can you tell us about how other teams opened the remaining doors? I'm particularly concerned about the portcullis gate. It looks like it needs sheer strength to lift all six."
She watched as Zahra handed over a pearl and three gold balls to Yoy'ya. "We should offer the same to you," she said to Prem. "I don't know what we'd do without your guidance and support."
Prem, "I couldn't possibly." He looked a little embarrassed. "Actually, I've been doing very well. I've been taking every bet against one of you surviving ... erm ... I've parleyed my entire hundred and thirty-three crowns into what, for me, is a sizeable fortune. Seems like I'm at an end though. People are starting to get shy about betting against your ... sorry, your lives." His ears turned a little pink over his natural grey.
She turned back to Yoy'ya and Prem. "What can you tell us about how other teams opened the remaining doors? I'm particularly concerned about the portcullis gate. It looks like it needs sheer strength to lift all six."
Yoy'ya, "The escutcheoned door. It seems to be another of Iolantha's devious devices. None of The Adherent's tricks worked on it. They did a lot of chanting at the door, then a lot of yelling at it before giving up.
"It doesn't seem trapped, just locked.
"The Sisters of the Silken Scroll used a silver key. The key was strange. It had moving parts, parts that could be spun around the shaft. They still had to use some elaborate lock picks to open the door, and it took (whatshername) Candor nearly a half hour to unlock it.
"What I can gather is every other challenge has a silver key in it. Join them together and you get a kind of skeleton key. If you have all five you can open the door relatively easily. If you don't have all five keys you'd better pull some lockpicking genius out of your but."
Yoy'ya, "The mirror door hasn't changed since yesterday. It just pushes open. No traps ... so far.
"The double ash doors aren't trapped but you have to answer a riddle just to get in. The riddle has been different every time.
"The gates are heavy. You'll have to lift one to get access to the second. Then you'll have to hold two up to get access to the third. Once the third is up you'll have enough room to drop the first.
"If you can get through all six gates in under a minute you get extra points. No traps on that one either."
I've been taking every bet against one of you surviving ... erm ... I've parleyed my entire hundred and thirty-three crowns into what, for me, is a sizeable fortune. Seems like I'm at an end though. People are starting to get shy about betting against your ... sorry, your lives."
Zahra smiled, "I'm glad that us not-dying made you money and that those with the audacity to wager for death lose coin. If they lose enough, maybe they'll think twice about placing that kind of bet in the future."
---
Talking about the doors triggered a memory for Zahra. "Oh! Guthan had told me some things about the Portcullis Door when we were all in the arena. He said to be careful of the portcullis door. That there are four gates, although there seems to be more now, and that we can pick which one opens first. After that, if we don't make a choice in time, a second gate will open on its' own at random regardless of whether we've defeated our first foe or not. If we find where the secret is we'll have a choice of things to pick...I guess to help us fight. Maybe a sword, a scarf, or a helm. When we pick one the other choices will 'go away'." Her brow wrinkled, "I'm not sure if that means they all actually disappear or we just think they do." She shrugged and continued, "When they did the challenge, the items were embedded in soft stone. When the orcs did it, the items were in glass on a raised stage. So I guess we need to be prepared that it will be difficult to get at those items."
”On the first day of the games, I overheard that riddle the bird statue perched on the door posed to the challengers,” Tymythy mused. ”That one seemed simple enough – riddles are common enough games to pass long stormy nights when families gather indoors, something to keep the mind engaged while the hands are busy with carving or knitting or with other simple tasks. I am looking forward to that one… although riddles can be tricky, and even a familiar enough a riddle can be presented in any number of ways one has never heard before. Also… I wonder if anything that can satisfy the question will be accepted, or if only a particular answer is being sought. I hate it when they do it that way,” he grunted, recalling many heated arguments in the past, voices raised in protest over unfair treatment.
"Oh! Guthan had told me some things about the Portcullis Door when we were all in the arena. He said to be careful of the portcullis door. That there are four gates, although there seems to be more now, and that we can pick which one opens first.
"Do we actually have the hold the doors up," Dounia asked rhetorically, "or can we jam them in place?" She was pretty confident she could get at least most of the doors to stay open without brute strength being needed.
She pulled out the key pieces she had so far, checking to see how they went together. "I'm sure I can make this work with my tools. Hopefully we find another piece tomorrow, whichever door we end up with."
"Honestly, the mirror door scares me the most. Cyra used to tell me all sorts of scary stories about ghosts that could make fears come true. Or make people believe they came true, which is just as bad. I think we'll need to tie ourselves together so we don't get separated. And find a way to protect the mind of whoever is in the lead." She wasn't sure how to do that, but hopefully that was a problem for the day after tomorrow, or the day after that.
"Honestly, the mirror door scares me the most. Cyra used to tell me all sorts of scary stories about ghosts that could make fears come true. Or make people believe they came true, which is just as bad. I think we'll need to tie ourselves together so we don't get separated. And find a way to protect the mind of whoever is in the lead." She wasn't sure how to do that, but hopefully that was a problem for the day after tomorrow, or the day after that.
”The past can be a fearsome place, and if there is a magic that opens mental scar tissue and brings back our worst memories - or senses our fears and shows what shape the future might take, if built around those terrors…” Tymythy muttered, shuddering as he could very easily think of one day such magic might force him to relive.
When The Blackbirds and their accomplices left the suite and re-entered the arena it was just the late song of four. Another great meal would be served in two hours but everyone here, especially the unwise, continued to eat as they liked from the ever-flowing food tent.
Many of the guests had found places to rest, lay back, some even slept out in the open arena as they found chairs or soft sand.
People swam in the viewing lake wearing small clothes (or nothing at all) even as images of Arnie and Mar continued to be viewed in the lake.
... The Sisters of the Silken Scroll hadn't finished yet and no image was yet to be seen ...
The Adherents of Aureolus were out and showing little ware. They had a look about them like they'd been on a sprint and there was damage to their robes, but little else. Yoy'ya asked one of the crowd how the Adherents had done and got an enthusiastic 'Well, once they got into the challenge it was quite exciting! They were able to levitate through much of was before them. They did have some trouble in 'The Gauntlet', the hallway the young girl demolished. All in all, they did very well. Twenty-three minutes. That is, once they got in. They argued about the first lock mechanism for over an hour.'
The Hazard Guard were likewise out of the mirror maze but they looked horrible. Some were wounded like they had been in a massive melee. Some sported burns from fire or acid. Most were terribly disoriented. All were being treated in or around the tent of healing.
A group of twelve porters dressed in dark aubergine robes with silver details were standing and sitting on a raised platform in the northeast corner of the upper bowl, not far from the food tents. They were already playing music from gleaming instruments.
The music was soft and it felt like they were warming up.
Dounia said, "Not, that blue lady IS Hallwyn. That's what Tandyraman said. He's a djinn. I guess that's why he does all the wishes. Though....I think I wasn't supposed to mention that...."
Prem looked confused but Yoy'ya looked frightened and her eyes darted about like she was looking for a way out. She was actively trying to calm herself down.
Prem, "I don't understand. What's a djinn?"
"What's a djinn? One of the djinni, a genie I think they're also called? Ancient, powerful beings capable of granting wishes and changing reality to suit their whims. Which I guess is pretty obvious. Cyra used to read me a tale about one who had been trapped in an perfume bottle, and would grant wishes to anybody who squirt the perfume. I wonder if we could trap Hallwyn in a bottle...." she trailed off, her eyes dreamy.
Snapping out of it, she says, "He's not even trying to hide it! He's the Marid of Daw’alnihar, isn't he? That's what a marid is, a water djinn. There are other kinds, earth, fire, air, maybe others. He wears his species like it's a title. Cheeky!"
”These lands host strange spirits,” Tymythy sighed after Dounia's explanation what a Djinn was. ”But if that is our host's true form, why would he bother to hide his nature? Other than to amuse himself by keeping people guessing. He has power plenty. He is power. Were he to reveal himself in my people's land, the shamans would either build shrines to appease him, or try to bind him to the land by rituals, to make him harmless. We can't do anything to him - his power eclipses ours like a sun does a candle's flame. But I wonder if there are those among his guests who might match him, alone or as a group? Would it amuse himself to expose himself to danger? The ways of the spirits are hard enough for the wise ones to graps, let alone the likes of me, but what is existence without any risk? The longer one's life, the more it takes to move one, I think.”
Yoy'ya, "No, no, no, no. He's a wizard, a magician, or a spirit like one of these fey creatures maybe. These heads of the magical orders are powerful and wealthy, capable of performing what appear like miracles to us. They call themselves all sorts of things: Storm of the Sworded Coast, The Demon's Eye, Bearer of the Uppity Flame of Grandioseness! ... 'The Marid of Daw'alnnihar'. I might joke about Hallwyn being something more, but I'm joking.
"A Djinn? Djinn are maniacal, dark souled creatures born of the ether. They are fables, deamons of a watery heaven. And here we are, amongst his followers in his place of power." She began to hyperventilate.
Prem, "Yoy'ya, breath. I'm not really grasping what's happening but, Tymythy is right, our host does have a lot of guests here connected to great power. Prince Keone Maegan alone is protected by the High King of Eotengaerde, his father and one of the most powerful people alive. The Adherents are members of the great order of Seven-times-seven and it's army of magi. The dwarves come from Beinn Seanfear in the seven peaks, one of the largest of the citadels of dwarven-kind.
"We may be in dangerous company but I don't think we're in danger. He hasn't done anything aggressive so far. I think he just wants people to play his game, gamble on the outcome, and enjoy the pleasures of his palace. If we don't stir up trouble we should be ok."
Yoy'ya, "Yeah, yeah. That's right. Listen, I'm going to see about having food taken to my room and stay in tonight. We'll do some more planing tomorrow morning. I will see what I can get from your sponsors and have it ready."
"Oh! Guthan had told me some things about the Portcullis Door when we were all in the arena. He said to be careful of the portcullis door. That there are four gates, although there seems to be more now, and that we can pick which one opens first.
Honestly, the mirror door scares me the most...
The past can be a fearsome place, and if there is a magic that opens mental scar tissue and brings back our worst memories - or senses our fears and shows what shape the future might take, if built around those terrors…
Zahra looked at Dounia and Tymythy and back again. Even after everything that had happened in the last little while, Zahra couldn't help but add, "But the scary pales in comparison to the goodness in the world. There couldn't be that much that they could use against us, if that is indeed the case, right?"
As the Blackbirds re-entered the crowd after their private discussion, the musicians caught her eye. She clapped her hands in delight, "Music! That probably means that there will be dancing later. This is going to be so much fun!" She looked at Tymythy and Prem, "May I ask that you both save me a dance later?"
She looked at Tymythy and Prem, "May I ask that you both save me a dance later?"
Prem answered a little too quickly, "Of course (clears throat)", but it was only a little too fast.
As the Blackbirds re-entered the crowd after their private discussion, the musicians caught her eye. She clapped her hands in delight, "Music! That probably means that there will be dancing later. This is going to be so much fun!" She looked at Tymythy and Prem, "May I ask that you both save me a dance later?"
”I do not think I will know the music the skalds are likely to play here, but I think I can at least promise not to step on your feet,” Tymythy replied, smiling. ”Perhaps you can take the first dance, so I can stand back and observe for a bit,” he nodded to Prem. He eyed the various forms of entertainments and refreshment with what at this point was grudging acceptance. The sheer excess would not stop rubbing him the wrong way, but as his senses were constantly assaulted with so much variety and stimulus he found his stubborn will being gradually ground down. These were not his people, this was not his land, so even though their host kept, in his opinion, wasting money that could surely be put into more productive use, there was no point in getting bent out of shape if his displeasure would not change anything.
So, he did as he had promised, and spent some time watching the dancers and listening to the tunes to which they moved their bodies, trying to familiarize himself with the steps. And he availed himself to some of the simpler dishes and milder beverages – he idea of excess appalled, and he had no wish to partake even though it was not his place to deny it from the other guests. The wine flowing so freely was the worst of it – he had never approved of drunkenness among his own people, as the idea of intentionally putting oneself in a situation where one’s judgement was clouded warred against every fibre of his warrior’s discipline.
Zahra beamed at Prem and Tymythy, "Wonderful! I would have hated being the only one without someone to dance with."
Then she realized what she was wearing and looked a little mortified. "I think I have time to change back into my dress from the first night. I'll be back." And with that she turned back towards their quarters to go get changed for the evening party.
Prem and Yoy'ya took their leave, and Cairee was grateful for some time alone in their quarters. She still had sludge caked all over her body from the 'carpet' swamp she'd stumbled into. An attendant drew her a steaming bath with eucalyptus oil and salts that fizzed against her back. She soaked in it for almost an hour, amazed that the water didn't lose any heat. When she finally pulled herself out, sleepy and pruned, she found her robes had been cleaned and laid out on her bed.
After she had dressed the attendant returned, offering to brush her hair. The poor girl seemed desperately bored so Cairee agreed, and quickly found herself the recipient of a make-over. The girl curled and styled her hair, buffed her nails, and added a little colour to the cleric's cheeks and lips, chatting a mile a minute the entire time. Cairee laid back and let the pampering and gossip wash over her, surprising herself by enjoying the experience.
It was just past the song of six when Cairee finally re-entered the arena. Zahra was near the musicians, dancing and laughing. Cairee looked to the lake to see if Arnie and Mar were still at their challenge, then looked around for Dounia. She wanted to check in with the young thief. The revelation of her family must have been quite the shock, and Cairee wanted to see how she was dealing with the news.
Everyone stood about in wrapt attention to the lake as Arnie and Mar Steelheart were reflected so that the lake was nothing but them. Everything was at one-sixth speed as, finally, after what was seven hours (about the late song of five), they had lured their prey into a trap.
Arnie had wandered off alone to create an enticing target. When he came to an area where the ceiling rose to fifty or more feet, the creature stuck. And the creature was wonderous! Great leather wings, a lion's body, and the heads of a lion, a horned goat, and a midnight-blue scaled dragon.
The creature disgorged a long bolt of lightning from its' dragon's head and it scorched Arnie's great club, blistering the skin of his right arm. Arnie grinned and began weaving between the pillars of this underground colonnade. The beast swooped and wove behind.
Arnie dove.
Another blast of lightning.
And then a flurry of arrows from behind. Mar stood partially covered by a pillar and launched two arrows in quick succession.
The creature's left and right wings were pierced straight through and it tumbled and flew closer to the ground.
Arnie's great falchion came out and with a single blow cleaved the goat's head clean off.
The lion roared in pain. The creature landed and bit Arnie's waist sideways. The dragon's head tried to re-ignite its' breath but couldn't. Two more arrows struck its' body.
Arnie was flung about in the lion's mouth as he flipped his falchion about and stabbed downward.
Another bolt of lightning shot out at Mar and she took it full and centre, falling to the ground. She rolled over onto her back and shot two more arrows from the paving stones, but awkwardly. One shot too high but the other hit its' mark.
The creature tried to get a better hold of Arnie which gave the boy a second to wriggle free and slash. The lion's lower jaw fell to the ground.
The creature thrashed. The dragon's head bit Arnie's leg. Mar kneeled up and fired twice again. The beast fell. The twins converged, badly wounded but taking their time to end the creature.
The entire slow scene blurred, returned to the beginning and replayed it all at normal speed.
-
It took Arnie and Mar more thirty-nine minutes to find the way out. When they were back in the arena they shunned healing to stumble, bleeding, to the scoreboard. They looked it over and were obviously pleased. Arnie looked about the arena. He was looking for something. His pleasure seemed to turn to disgust.
Arnie and Mar walked to the tents of healing.
Noting the twin’s hunt becoming the highlight of the viewing portal (were they the only team still mid-challenge? Tymythy hadn’t bothered to keep track, but if the two had been trekking overland the Ravens had, earlier, it only made sense they’d be the last team to finish), Tymythy fixed his attention to the images, nodding grudging respect at the battle prowess the pair displayed. The beast fought back fiercely, but to hunt a foe as formidable as this creature straight out of legends seemed to be, wounds were to be expected, and seen not as a sign of weakness but as a badge of honor. At least, that’s how he and most of his people would see it.
And what a foe the three-headed chimeric was! It would have been glorious to match his own spear against its claws and teeth... and indeed, something inside him seemed to respond to the sight of the creature. He stopped, momentarily concerned. The sensation had felt strange, alien... was the Black-winged Lord watching through his eyes and displaying His displeasure? No, surely not... magnificent as the foe the twins found was, it seemed a mere unthinking beast – not that Tymythy was the best judge of such things, but the creature made no attempt to speak as far as he could tell, nor did it carry any equipment fashioned by will and intent. A powerful beast, yes, but something worthy of the attention of a Great Spirit? Unlikely.
Perhaps, then, it was Kizu'gina who felt through him... the frightening seer had mentioned she was the bane of wyrms and yearned for their blood. Had the sight of the dragon’s head on one of the beast’s shoulders been enough to rouse the spear from her slumber? If so, the hunter felt doubly regretful of missing that particular fight.
***
It took a long while for the wounded pair to push open the doors and emerge from their challenge. Tymythy was close enough to notice, and saw the male twin’s eyes scour the arena. He did not know what Arnie was hoping or dreading to find, but as the twin’s gaze passed him the young hunter gave him a respectful nod. The two seemed like trouble even without all the things Cairee had shared, but there was no denying their skill. And skill merited recognition.
The orcs were where they loved to be, in the upper stands not far from the food tent surrounded by platters of food. They were mostly quiet but every once in a while someone recalled part of a challenge and they all broke out laughing. It was hot and cold. They were often completely quiet as they ate or boisterous and audible from across the arena. It got worse when they discovered they didn't have to get their own food. Three porters were kept busy with The Bonds of Gruumsh alone.
Jad, the crone of the group, saw Tymythy first and she kicked at Tyerror with her toe. The much younger orc turned about and laughed, "HA! I was sure you'd be dead!" He moved to one side and made a space.
-
The music began to build.
Several of the guests had gone out to an open space near the performers and started to dance. When Zahra returned to the arena she noticed Prem waiting.
Prem, "I think I have a promise to keep. I wouldn't put a black mark on the day by not keeping a promise. Not if I can at all help it." He was in his regimental dueling club armour, wore off-white cloth gloves, and his wings were folded back. His skin was grey, seemed course but warm, and his breath had the odd but faint smell of freshly scythed grass.
-
Cairee couldn't get the young woman's voice out of her head even as she left to join the others.
When she came back to the arena to see Arnie and Mar just leaving the tents of healing. She could see the dancing getting underway with several couples doing some sort of lively parlour style dance. Zahra was standing before Prem who's hand was out, ready to lead her to the floor.
Tymythy was crossing the upper bowl on his way to where the orcs sat.
Dounia was was sitting in the lower bowl facing the escutcheoned door but with a look a million miles away.
Jad, the crone of the group, saw Tymythy first and she kicked at Tyerror with her toe. The much younger orc turned about and laughed, "HA! I was sure you'd be dead!" He moved to one side and made a space.
”No death awaited us, only fell spirits who yearned to steal my likeness,” Tymythy said with an easy grin. Of all the people in the arena, despite the hue of their skin, with the loud and boisterous orcs he felt most at home. ”And who could blame them?” he went on with mock seriousness, bringing up his arms, fingers trailing his trim figure like the hands of a blind sculptor feeling the form of a statue of a hero he had just finished carving, seeking for flaws and finding none.
A chair was kicked in his direction, and a plate of food haphazardly nudged his way. He caught the chair with one foot and sat down with a nod of gratitude, breaking bread with the fierce warriors, again sharing freely his tale of the latest challenge. ”Not one for a warrior to shine in,” he admitted, his gaze seeking Dounia for a long moment before he spotted her staring holes in one of the doors to the challenges. ”Glory to those who earned it - without her we would have taken hours, and many and more wounds, forcing our way past all the traps and contraptions”
Zahra emerged from their quarters feeling more like herself. She had spent some time in the baths which did wonders for her mood. She felt lighter and at peace.
She had needed to do some magical cleaning of her dress and a bit of mending. Now her outfit was as good as new and the sorceress was ready to have some fun. For the evening she didn't have to worry about anything but having good food, good conversation, and a good time.
Catching sight of Prem, she moved over to him and stopped to give a small curtsy.
"You look quite dapper this evening, Prem." She gave him a winning smile, "Consider your promise kept." She covered his outstretched hand with her own, "I leave myself in your capable hands."
"You look quite dapper this evening, Prem." She gave him a winning smile, "Consider your promise kept." She covered his outstretched hand with her own, "I leave myself in your capable hands."
Prem's grey ears went a little pink, "You're very sweet to say so." He led her into the dance zone. "And might I say your dress ... it's very ... well, what I mean to say ... you're very ... it's just, perhaps, the tayloring is very ..." He was fighting a wreck he couldn't escape as the one word he intended not to use escaped his lips, "accurate." His mouth was getting dry and it was clear that he jumped on a caravan he didn't know how to get off. "I mean ... your dress is lovely."
His dancing was much more confident as he read her movements through her hand so that Zahra couldn't tell who was leading. His left hand was in a loose fist behind his back and his right fingers were in her left. The dance was a simple country waltz. One long step then one quick step forward, turn to face your partner, one side step, change direction.
Prem, "Tell me about growing up in Zhayalammar. I'd like to know what young Zahra was like." Unfortunately, the question was jammed in between steps and made it awkward to reply.
... ”And who could blame them?” he went on with mock seriousness, bringing up his arms, fingers trailing his trim figure like the hands of a blind sculptor feeling the form of a statue of a hero he had just finished carving, seeking for flaws and finding none.
Tyerror, "Baaaah! If I boiled you down there wouldn't be enough meat to make broth."
”Glory to those who earned it - without her we would have taken hours, and many and more wounds, forcing our way past all the traps and contraptions”
Batbayar appeared to still carry wounds from the last challenge, though he'd obviously been tended to. "We could not watch your challenge. It is a shame. The Blackbirds and The Sisters are the only teams worth watching and we are denied both. The only other thing worth being here for, beside the challenge itself ... and perhaps the food."
Nergui, "The food comes too easily. What's the joy of meat you don't have to chase."
Jad, "The hunting is hard and it will be hard again. A fool alone doesn't know when to enjoy a free bounty."
Batbayar, "Don't be hard on the boy. He's young. I'm growing old and wouldn't mind getting fat, and lazy."
All of the contestants had finished their challenges by an hour at least, except for the Sisters of the Silken Scroll.
And the lake was black.
As soon as she got onto the dance floor with Prem, Zahra was momentarily unsure about herself. It had been a while since she had danced but thankfully Prem seemed sure of himself and guided her well.
She laughed lightly as Prem finally got his compliment out about her dress. "Now it is you who are kind to say so."
"As for young Zahra, you would probably find her quite uninteresting. I don't have any siblings to make things interesting like Cairee or Dounia. My father is a spice merchant." Her voice puffs up with pride as she continues, "His spice blends are renowned, especially his za'atar. I always enjoyed visiting him at the bazaar and helping where I could because I liked meeting all the different types of people who visited Zhayalammar. So many fascinating stories about interesting and unique people."
They changed directions and she grew quiet for a moment to focus on what her feet were doing. "The magic was a surprise. And for the longest time I had to keep it hidden because of all the rules in the city. But my friend and mentor, Haseena, took care of the issue and now I can use magic in public without putting my family in danger."
"How about you, Prem? What stories do you have to tell about where you live?"
Everybody broke up, to go and talk to others, to get ready, or for a few minutes of privacy. Dounia found herself wandering through the arena, her stomach full of lobster, and not wanting to talk to anybody.
Well, she wanted to talk to the sisters, but the lake was still dominated by Cairee's awful siblings. Finding a quiet step, Dounia sat down and watched them fight.
Wow.
They might be awful, but you had to admit, they were good. And there was only 2 of them! She was pretty sure the 4 blackbirds would have struggled with that monster.
Eventually, they came out of their door, and seemed happy with their score. Then Arnie looked around and immediately looked angry. Dounia tried to figure out what he'd seen to irritate him.
Still no sign of the Sisters. Dounia stayed put, staring alternately at the lake, and at the escutcheoned door. She realized her neck and back were tense; she was worried. It did not occur to her that focusing on her rivals was helping keep herself from thinking about her own sister. Or not-sister. Dounia was definitely not thinking about that whole situation at all.
"As for young Zahra, you would probably find her quite uninteresting ... How about you, Prem? What stories do you have to tell about where you live?"
The dance slowed down and everyone switched to a standard waltz position. Prem quickly moved his hand to the small of Zahra's back and held out his left hand for her right. One two three, one-two three, one two three, one-two three,
Prem, "You were as open hearted as you are now. It was the first thing I noticed about you. I think I would have like to meet younger you. I'd like to hear the story of this Haseena sometime. It sounds like you've been through a lot. Magic here and those practitioners in the north seem quite different. The church has it's boot on the talented and curious so that there are three types of 'users'. Those who work for the church. Those who hide their gifts and learning in basements. And those who run with the street gangs and fight magical duels in back alleys."
Zahra could see Jhohaness Kingsworthy dancing with the woman he'd been with in the foyer. His right ear was heavily bandaged. They were spinning slowly to the music and moving closer. The woman released Jhohaness hand and gracefully forced her way between Prem and Zahra, while Jhohaness tried to take Prem's place with Zahra.
"Oh orange I never get to work with orange hair...ooooh that Arnord Steelheart well I'll tell you who's heart he can steal do you think he's nice I think he looks nice..."
At first Cairee felt like Dawandi's captive as the young girl chattered on. But it quickly became obvious that no reply was expected or wanted. So Cairee relaxed into her chair and let the words wash over her as she cleared her mind and mediated. The mention of her brother being 'nice' brought made the cleric snort a little, but Dawandi didn't notice.
The Attendant finally held a small silver mirror up for Cairee to see the results. The curled hair and light make-up made her a little uncomfortable. Was it appropriate for a Representative of Saiph to be so adorned? Dawandi waited anxiously for approval, so Cairee smiled and thanked her, pressing a few coins into her hand.
Finally back in the arena, she saw Arnie and Mar exiting the healing tent. She took a wide route around them to Dounia, sitting in the seats, staring at the lake.
Cairee took two mugs of steaming tea from a porter and offered one of the mugs to her friend. The two sat in silence for a while, sipping tea and watching the black lake.
"Today was... a lot. Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"
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Zahra was too stunned at the audacity of Jhohaness and Rhitta for her to put up a serious fight as suddenly Prem was gone. What could this man possibly be trying to accomplish? And why was his supposed companion helping him to act like such an entitled ass?
Not wanting to make a scene, Zahra couldn't bring herself to run off the dance floor. However, she was also not pleased by the turn of events and she certainly didn't want this cad touching her.
Her smile immediately disappeared and the air around her cooled significantly. She focused the ice-cold anger that she felt against Jhohaness into her hands. If he insisted on forcing himself on her then she would make it as physically uncomfortable for him as possible.
As if her demeanour wasn't sufficient to tell him that he wasn't wanted, she glared at him and said through clenched teeth, "What do you think you are doing?"
Rhitta twirled away with Prem who's eyes seemed desperate for some control over what was suddenly happening. Jhohaness grabbed onto Zahra and pulled her in close as he smiled roguishly, ready for Zahra to be charmed by the audacity and the grace with which he and his 'wingman' pulled off the trade.
Jhohaness, "This! Now this is how it should be! My heavens your eyes ... they're so beau ... are they turning white???" The silver of Zahra's dress dulled as it frosted over and then was replaces by sparkles of ice flecks. Ice formed on her hands and wrapped around his. "Ah ... ow ... ow! ... OW! ..."
As if her demeanour wasn't sufficient to tell him that he wasn't wanted, she glared at him and said through clenched teeth, "What do you think you are doing?"
Jhohaness pulled away from Zahra, breaking a thin layer of ice between them. He took a step back, frightened, slipped on the frost that had already built up under Zahra's feet and fell backwards on his ass. Quivering he scrambled backwards in a backwards crawl, finally gaining his feet again, and hurried off the dance area. The musicians stopped. Some muffled laughter followed him as he failed to regain any dignity.
Rhitta released Prem and went to check on her friend. With everyone a little shocked, Prem walked over to Zahra, held out his hands and with a gentle grace (and without cracking a smile), "Silimiel must have been one hell of a dancer ... or do you get that from the other side of the family?"
The musicians started playing where they left off and everyone began to dance once more.
Dounia made a face when it turned out that Cairee had handed her tea, instead of something stronger. However, she had to admit the milky hot beverage was pretty good - probably the best she'd ever had. And after her last experiment with alcohol, it was probably wiser to stick with tea.
"Today was... a lot. Is there anything you'd like to talk about?"
Dounia let the words drift over her. Still nothing from the Sisters. Finally she said, "Not yet. I want to talk to Tandyraman again. But maybe tomorrow. How about you? Are you okay? You were pretty hurt today."
She looked over at Cairee, and nearly spat out her tea. "What happened to you?! You're so fancy!" She laughed at Cairee's expression and added, "In a good way! You look great!"
The sorceress looked down at Jhohaness as he scrambled away from her on the ground. "Next time you touch a woman, you ask her permission."
Zahra felt unsettled by what had just happened and a little lost by what to do next. Thankfully, Prem was soon by her side and offered her a hand to anchor her. She gave him a grateful smile, "I honestly wish I knew. What I do know is that I hate bullies and I'm pretty sure Silimiel did too."
Prem began to guide her again in the dance but her steps were initially hesitant. "I hope I didn't over-react. I feel like everyone is staring. I was wanting fun, not drama."
Prem, ”A lucky hit? It seemed more effective than you intended. Mostly, I think you startled the man. Looks like everyone’s gone back to enjoying themselves. Let’s keep up, shall we?”
Zahra relaxed into the dance and allowed herself to be expertly led. Her smile returned, "Yes, we shall keep up and we shall enjoy ourselves. I just hope that that man finally got the message that not everyone finds his tactics charming."
"So, you were about to tell me about yourself, yes? You've done so much to help the Blackbirds since we met yet I don't feel like I know much about you."
Batbayar appeared to still carry wounds from the last challenge, though he'd obviously been tended to. "We could not watch your challenge. It is a shame. The Blackbirds and The Sisters are the only teams worth watching and we are denied both. The only other thing worth being here for, beside the challenge itself ... and perhaps the food."
”You honour me,” Tymyhty said, not in false modesty but to state a fact. Most of the other competitors he did not know nor understand. These orcs, at least, he felt he could claim to have an inkling of what moved them, what they sought. And recognition of a group of skilled warriors warmed his heart, young and far from home as he was.
”And speaking of honour, or lack thereof...” he muttered as his eye was drawn to a spot of unexpected movement on the dance floor. He watched the braggart, whose meeting had set the tone of the celebration, steal Zahra away from her partner – a slick move, one Tymythy instinctively attributed to the arrogant man’s own partner who was not whirling away with the startled Prem in her arms. The hunter was of a mind to join the contest and see if he could replicate that neat little feat and perhaps land the loudmouth with some old widower for a dance partner who might be more amenable to his advances... but it seemed Zahra needed no help. He could tell exactly what she did, but for some reason the man flinched away from her, a look of horror on his face, before he slipped and fell, to scamper away as if scared for his life.
”Hmh,” he muttered, impressed despite himself. ”So for these people, even a dance can be a field of battle.” Unexpected... yet perhaps it shouldn’t be. He had already seen his share of veiled threats and conflict, and knew he had missed much more, never even realizing some slight change of posture as an insult aimed at his way. An interesting idea, though... for him, dances with such intricate patterns like the ones he had seen here had had their roots in either rituals to revere the spirits, or as patterns of moves and countermoves during battle. The dances done to amuse and celebrate and pass a long summer night had been much simpler affairs, requiring stamina rather than skill.
For a change, he found himself approving of an idea introduced to him here.
”Apologies, I made a promise and it will soon be time to fulfill it,” he said, rising to his feet. ”Hunt well tomorrow.” With one last nod to the orcs he made his way to the side of the dance floor, leaning against an ornamental pillar, waiting patiently... and keeping one eye on the audience, just in case he spotted the Kingsunworthy lout. He had been embarrassed in front of his peers. He might not be a man to take such a slight without attempting retribution... after all, he had already got into another scuffle with Prem, as his first encounter had been interrupted by the Ravens’ arrival.
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The orcs did not remark at Tymythy's leaving but simply let him leave.
Prem twirled the two around as everyone on the dance floor became a huge whirlpool of motion. Zahra's gown belled out at the bottom with the vigorous exertion as the waltz turned into a show of wide grand movements.
Prem, "I'm from Ischolt, the southern-most country in Eotengarde. It's a very modern place but my people are a rural people. Luckily, my parents saw in me something a little bit more, and also worried that my curiosity (or my mouth) was getting me into trouble. They saved up enough to send me to one of the duelling academies in Sutence. I had a very good education there. Manners, geography, heraldry, world religions, some of the higher languages. I hope to make my name at court as an ambassador's advisor some day and pay my parents back."
The dance began to slow down and people prepared for the next musical piece, trading partners or repositioning for a folk dance or leaving the dance area for rest and refreshment.
Prem released his partner and made a little space, "I don't think I can monopolize your dance card." Seeing Tymythy nearby he bowed and nodded to the young man as he passed.
A woman came from the food tents. She was just more than five feet tall and had powerful bare legs. Her skin was lightly tanned and her clothes were similar to those the porters wore, except her's were golden yellow with details of red. She held a quarterstaff with a small purse tied to one end and went to the centre of the dance space.
One of the musicians yelled out joyfully, "THE BYGDYDANS!" and the other musicians (and a smattering of the crowd) returned with a hearty "HURRA!"
New dancers rushed to the dance floor, mostly young and fit guests. Some of Hallwyn's porters joined in. People started to arrange themselves into lines of two couples as one musician stepped in front with a mandolin-like instrument. She put two picks in their fingers near the knuckles and began picking. The music started quietly and then built up like it was going to crescendo but then dove back down. Music to get the blood up.
Dounia let the words drift over her. Still nothing from the Sisters. Finally she said, "Not yet. I want to talk to Tandyraman again. But maybe tomorrow. How about you? Are you okay? You were pretty hurt today."
Cairee considered the question. "I'm all right. These games are more than I bargained for. And four more days of it. It's hard to imagine. But, I'm here with great friends, and there's good food and music. Let's enjoy it as best we can."
One of the musicians yelled out joyfully, "THE BYGDYDANS!"
Cairee grinned and jumped to her feet. "I know this one! Come on, let's dance." She held out her hand to Dounia, who made a face. "You'll love it. You get to kick things!" She grabbed the thief's hand and pulled her to the dance floor.
They took their place in line. "I'll lead, you kick."
The name of the dance meant little to Tymythy, but the staff and the thing holding from it... there was something like that back home, a playful competition of sorts where one attempted to kick a tassel made from horse’s hail and suspended from a long rope through hoops set on top of poles of varying sizes – the higher the pole and the smaller the hoop, the more points for a successful kick. Perhaps this was something similar to it?
He saw Cairee dragging Dounia to the floor and nodded at Zahra, smiling. ”Shall we show those two how to do this thing I have no real idea how to do?”
He led the pair to the middle of the line of dancers, to give him some more time to watch others perform and see what the actual objective here was. It immediately became obvious the point was, indeed, to kick the low-hanging purse, but the fact he could see nothing to kick it towards kept confusing him, until after a few apparent successes – judging by the applause – he realized merely hitting the purse was enough. Likely the woman holding it on a pole would make things harder as the dance progressed, by lifting it higher or perhaps making it move around?