[center] [h1] A Reunion [/h1] [/center] [hr] The chorus of soft wooden steps parted the tall grass, a low, harmonious tapping among the rustle of wavering stems. Split could barely hear them when she tried to. Most of the time, she simply forgot about them. The peoples of the beaches and rivers they had met had told her that this happened to all of them with the rush of the water, near which they spent all their lives, and that was one of the few times when she really had understood these strange, flabby creatures. The murmur of a river or the crash of waves on a strand were always alien and baffling to her, and a little frightening for someone who had only known water in small dirty springs, but then they felt the same about the wooden march. This made them even. Now, the breathing of the sea was within earshot, and that was what she listened to. It was faint, far away, and anyone else would not have caught it over the rhythm of the mannequins’ procession. Sometimes, a cricket or some other nocturnal insect screeched nearby, and then she had to strain her ears to hear the waves again, but that was not often. The column was large enough to scare away most animals, to the point that she had to make some wide circles to catch anything. Even the bird she was skilfully plucking and cutting open as she walked on three hands had cost her a short detour before sunset. Damocles’ – a name still difficult to roll off her tongue, maybe because she almost never called it – following had grown much since the first night she had seen them. The way it did had mystified her at first; in the first few villages they had come across, she had followed his purposeful movements gaping as wordlessly as one of the dummies, only throwing confused looks at the terrified beings that either ran or crowded around her. Luckily, when he had deadened the limbs of the first to fail his judgment before her (someone who either hoarded food or took mates with an unfair contest, she did not remember now), she had understood the why well enough not to hew him in half. It wasn’t hard to grasp, if she looked at it, and it was fair. She would not have done much differently if it had been up to her. She still didn’t know why really it was up to Damocles to decide, no thanks to him never saying much, but he was good at it, which was enough. Someone had to do it, and it was better this way. As soon as she had realised that, she had stopped trailing him every time, expecting to catch him in a mistake, and taken to milling around with the rest of the villages’ people. It did not take long for them to stop being afraid, maybe because she was grey like them, and got more so as her age started to show. They looked funny, with too few eyes and four stubby arms, but they could do a lot, and, when she started to understand them better, had a lot to say. Almost always, they could use a hand with something, and she was happy to stretch her arms for some fish and a few stories about the place. Both fish and stories blended into a nondescript fog in her memories after a while, but it was good to have friendly if strange faces to talk to – she had only realised that some time after leaving the spot of her first conversation in many years – and leave knowing they might live a little better off for a bit. For all it felt good when things were done fairly, it was better when the dummy didn’t have to do anything, and so that night Split’s mood was high. They had left the last place the day before without adding another wooden figure to their number. With no newcomer to study, she busied herself with the bird, snapping its ribcage open and licking up the innards before they spilled to the ground. The only part that still bothered her about eating as she walked was having to stop when she dropped something. There came a moment where a dot upon the horizon could have been mistaken for a bird, except it grew in size as it approached, forming into a tall figure of radiant white. The figure flew leisurely, as if it didn’t have a care in the world, or it wasn’t paying attention. As it came closer, more details emerged. The radiant white that adored it was actually armor, and covering its head was a helmet of wings. It had been flying directly adjacent to them, but with a turn of the head it began its descent to their location. The puppets gave the figure no mind, as it, or she (for the armor was form fitting), landed across from Split, as the puppets continued on as they always did. The glowing woman was tall, taller than even Split but not as tall as some of the puppets. At her side she carried a sword, but gave no move to grasp it. Instead, she looked at Split and tilted her head. The kostral blinked with her fore-eyes, pulling back the hand with the bird. One of her arms went to the haft of her axe, strapped over her back with a belt of some beast's leathery hide, but stopped midway. Her gaze ran over the newcomer as though seeking a certain particular, and a light of distant remembrance seemed to flicker through its murk, as though she might suddenly recall something gone by long ago. But the light passed, and she looked old as she blinked again in confusion and asked "Who're you?" in a worn voice. There was a concert of creaks as the marching parade of mannequins suddenly all turned their heads towards the standing figure, including the blank face of the leading puppet. The ensemble stopping to bear witness as they surrounded the scene. [Color=ivory]"Oh Split…"[/color] came a sweet but sad voice. The woman's helmet then turned to mist to reveal familiar black eyes, wide and brimmed with black tears. Her face was small and dainty with high cheekbones and small lips leading up to a nose. Features that at one point in time, had never existed, but now seemed to fit just right. [Color=ivory]"I never thought I'd see you again."[/color] she said. Split’s eyes narrowed to slits as she struggled with the haze of years over her memory, then widened as recognition finally flitted through them. She pushed herself up to two feet, letting the rest of her arms fall down her sides. “Akhrya? That really you?” The long unused name came out distorted by the harshness of kostral speech. “You’ve been-” Words were lost in a dry rattle in her throat and sought another way through the first thing she could pick up on. “You got a mouth now?” The woman began to laugh. [color=ivory]”Split!”[/color] Arya’s demeanor changed to happiness as she made her way over to the kostral. [color=ivory]”Come here you!”[/color] Arya said, hugging her even if she resisted. Split stood stock-still, craning her head to follow her. One hand clumsily laid itself over Arya’s back. “Spit, girl-” The hand suddenly shot up and cuffed the back of Arya’s head. “What’d I tell you?! Stay back, di’n’t I?!” The kostral breathed out in a hiss and grasped her back with full three arms. “You coulda been dead all I knew!” [color=ivory]”I’m sorry.”[/color] Arya cooed into Split. [color=ivory]”I’m so sorry. It hurt Penelope… I had to… I’m sorry Split. I should have listened.”[/color] Arya said, her voice thick with emotion. “You spitting right should’ve,” the kostral grumbled, buffeting her again, though far more lightly, for good measure. “You’re lucky you got to learn that on your skin and came out of it. Better remember that,” she eyed Arya’s sword and tapped it with a finger, “Or this works too. Wised up about always having a cutter at hand, hrm?” A creak sounded behind Split, the many empty faces still staring. [color=ivory]”Oh yes.”[/color] Arya chuckled before stepping back, reluctantly letting go of Split. She put her hands on her hips and looked the kostral over, before looking over her shoulder to the puppets. [color=ivory]”That’s uh… Quite the crowd you have. Who are they?”[/color] she asked. “That’s,” Split scratched her teeth and corrected herself, “used to be people.” She twisted her head, looking for something among the wooden crowd, then pointed towards one particular shape. “That’s Damocles. We’re clearing this place up.” She nodded at the massed dummies. “People here live together, get each other to run things. We see if they’re doing good, and if they put their arms on other folk’s heads, they get made like this.” With a heavy breath, she dropped back to four hands. “Better than killing.” Arya looked concerned for a moment, before nodding in approval. [color=ivory]”That’s something, I suppose. Still… Are they really alive after turning?”[/color] Arya said, looking back at Split. The sword that hung above Damocles twitched and a sound akin to a branch straining creaked eerily in the air, "...yes..." Arya turned back to look at the leader, Damocles with a surprised expression on her face. [color=ivory]”Who created you?”[/color] she asked. "We..." The creaking sounded again, "Have... A... Task... To... Do..." The many faces shifted in unison to face Split. Arya turned to look at Split again. The kostral rolled her shoulders in a sequence of what looked like shrugs. “He’s always like that. Haven’t got much more out of him in years.” Her side-eyes ran along the circle of eyelessly staring heads. She made some quick, dry gestures in Damocles’ direction. “Don't think he gets that I'm not made of wood either. Never lets me get a break. Want to come along with us a bit?" Arya eyes the puppets skeptically before wrinkling her nose and turning to look at Split. A smile crossed her face and she nodded. [Color=ivory]"I'd love to! We have so much to catch up on."[/color] she said excitedly. "Lots of talking," Split made another sign at the dummies and began to pad ahead, the shambling procession continuing its march, "Never thought I'd need much of it, but go long without any, then more with just him, and spit if I feel it." She took a bite from the bird, which had now been shaken back and forth a good deal. "You know what's been of the rabbit?" At the mention of Penelope, Arya shook her head sadly. [Color=ivory]"I haven't been able to look for her, or for you, otherwise I would have found the both of you years ago. I was hoping Penelope might have been with you… But that doesn't seem to be the case. I… I hope she made it out alright."[/color] Arya said walking along. "Let's," Split assented, "She'd got that far with us." The bird was quickly disappearing into her mouth. "Where've you been all this time? I can't get around easy as that, but you got that. The world out there really that big that you'd gotten lost too?" [Color=ivory]"Do you remember the God I told you about, K'nell? I found myself bleeding out upon his continent, Tendlepog. I was found by Hermes, a Dreamer and one K'nell created personally. She and her wife, Xiaoli, avatar of Shengshi took me in and nursed me back to health. I… I stayed with them for a long time. Looking back on it now, I should have searched for you when I had the chance… But I grew comfortable there. And then they had babies and another quest and then I found my sister or she found me and and… And… I'm sorry Split."[/color] Arya said, her head hung low. Damocles seemed to regard Arya for an uncanny moment, his head spun completely around on his shoulders as he walked forward. "Don't beat yourself on me, girl," the kostral grumbled, loping up to give Arya another affectionate cuff, "Right as guts, looking after a nest's important, I'd know that. I'm old enough to stay whole on my own, hatchlings ain't." She ruminated on something as she plucked the last bones dry and threw them away. "Don't know what any of them are, but they sound lively. Which of the two got to be mother?" Arya gave a small smile and then said, [color=ivory]”Hermes I called mom, Xiaoli I called mother. Both were females. They had a beautiful life.”[/color] Arya said forlorn. "How'd you say, both?" Split blinked, befuddled, "How's that work? It's already weird that some people can lay the hatch and stay alive both," she gestured in the broad direction of the last village they had left, "But you're saying the two of them laid it together?" Arya scratched the back of her head. [Color=ivory]"Well uh, beats me Split. They never told me how they were able to do so. I kinda just figured that some sort of blessing or divinity made it work. It's just one of life's many questions and one that will probably never be answered."[/color] she finished with a sigh. "Lots of things in the world we don't get," Split thoughtfully looked at the dummies surrounding them, "Guess they won't tell us now they're dead. Didn't know that happened to godly things too." [Color=ivory]"Not dead… Well… I guess dead. But they went… Somewhere else. Hard to explain. But yes, I suppose godly things can die."[/color] Arya said shrugging. "If they're still somewhere, can't be that bad, long as it's not this way," Split's hand slapped the wooden flank of a dummy. The figure trudged forward without even turning. "Be good if there was a real death for the bigger ones too, though. Sometimes this," she nudged her head at the dummy, "can't cut it, you know." [Color=ivory]"Not bad."[/color] Arya agreed. [Color=ivory]"Well… Not everyone deserves death. Some just need help to see the error of their ways, you know. Death should only come as the final, last resort."[/color] she said softly, the faceless Damocles seeming to stare. “Maybe you’re right,” the kostral’s look was still pensive, “But you’ve got to deal with some things good. There’s not always time to think. Or there is and it doesn’t help for spit. You got this for a reason.” She pointed at Arya’s sword. “Might’ll get to it that it’s you or them, and I’ll rather have you around.” Arya looked to the ground, wrinkling her nose as she did. After a moment she looked up with a small smile. [Color=ivory]"Thank you Split. I know things can get fast suddenly, and we don't have a choice, but it never hurts to try, within reason of course."[/color] "...Choice..." A lone creak sounded. It seemed as if there might be more to it for a lingering moment, but then nothing more ever came. "Yeah, choice," Split waved her head, "We always got that, you know. Can be anytime that we'd choose to just lie down and die," she stepped down louder than usual with one hand, "But that wouldn't be a right one. Gotta always mind what's right. Not that hard if you got a bit to think about it." [Color=ivory]"That's true."[/color] Arya said, stretching as she walked. [Color=ivory]"So, how did you end up here, on this continent?"[/color] Arya asked. "Can't really say. Was a gutted long time ago," Split gritted the sides of her mouth against each other, "Think I was back in those tunnels of Chop's, then I just wasn't. Bet that thing's made to pass easy. Being here, that's been the hard part…" [hr] The night dragged on along with the steps of the cortege. Without clouds to obscure the sky, its progress was clear to anyone that cared to look up, but none did; neither the blindly tireless dummies, nor Arya and Split, caught in each other's tales of the years since their descent below Galbar. The Garden had passed well over half its course when the memories finally ran out. For a bit there was silence, much like on the nights of their first voyage, save for the rhythmic march to their sides. Split did not hear it, and reminisced. "All that," she mused, scraping an elbow against her side, "and walking at night's still the same." [Color=ivory]"It is."[/color] Arya agreed, as the chorus of night took over. After a brief moment of silence between the two, Arya looked towards Split and said, [color=ivory]"So… What now? Will you continue on with Damocles or… Or maybe you could come with me, to the Eye?"[/color] Arya asked sheepishly. The kostral let out a whistling chuckle. “I can’t fly, girl. I’d slow you.” Her head motioned at the dummies, or perhaps the spaces past them. “‘Sides, there’s still a lot left to do here, and other places after that. Someone’s got to keep the world clear.” She propped herself up on two limbs, and laid a hand on the back of Arya’s head. “We’ll get to where you’ll be someday. Who knows as maybe I’ll be the one as needs your help then.” She chuckled again. Arya looked into Splits eyes and nodded slowly. She sighed and said, [color=ivory]"A most noble quest, Split. I wish you could come with me though… The Eye is a beautiful place. But I understand, I do. But when the day comes and you need help, you'll know where to find me."[/color] she kicked a stone as she walked and looked at the ground again before looking back up in thought. [Color=ivory]"You know… They don't expect me back at the Eye for awhile. I could stay a couple days before leaving. If you want."[/color] “Think I’d chase you off?” It was not easy to tell if Split was ever smiling, her mouth being hidden and voice coarse, but she was trying to make it perceptible now. “Stay long as you want. You’ll see us working.” She walked on on her two arms, staring away with her opposite side-eye. “Then we’ll see that Eye you got someday. We got time for everything.” [Color=ivory]"Perfect!"[/color] Arya said, flashing a toothy smile. "...A.... Task.... To... Be... Done..." Damocles seemed to agree in his own way. [hider=Summary] Split and Damocles wander all over Selka territory on Atok, weeding out the bad guys and turning them into Puppets. After some time, Arya shows up and the two have a very fond reunion. They talk some more about life, and Arya stays with her friend for awhile. [/hider] [hider=Prestige] [b][u]Arya:[/u][/b] The Learner, The Martial Dancer, The Compassionate, The Wanderer, The Teacher, The Sailor, Last of the Zhengwu +50 Prestige Starting +1 For Major Role +1 For Minor Role +1 For Collaboration. = +53 Prestige Ending [b][u]Split-Tooth:[/u][/b] The Butcher +25 Prestige Starting +1 For Major Role +1 For Minor Role +1 For Collaboration. = +28 Prestige Ending [/hider]