Member
Lord Zee
Frettzo
Eviledd1984
King of Rats
Vec
Alby47Cadien
&
Carn
“Father?” Carn asked, astonished.
“In a sense, yes,” the towering figure replied, “but not the one you know.”
It took Carn a moment to process those words, and once he did, the implication struck him like a hammer to the chest. “C-Cadien?”
The god nodded.
“Am I dead?”
The god shook his head.
Carn stared at ‘Cadien’ in shock, until finally he once more found it in himself to speak. “Why?”
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific than that,” Cadien said sadly.
Carn felt a sudden surge of frustration. “Why did you save me?”
“Because you were going to die. Because it would be wrong for me to stand by and let you. Because despite all that you have done, you may still do some good,” the god answered.
“All that I have done?” Carn asked, aghast. “All I have done is what you told me to!”
“Did I?” Cadien asked, raising his eyebrows. “I did not tell you to abandon Gibbou’s avatar. I did not tell you to go cavorting with Qael’s girl. I did not tell you to kill Lothar. I did not tell you to charge Ketrefa’s walls without a plan. I gave you instructions. How you chose to carry them out, and your failure to do so, rests on your shoulders.”
“You set me against my own brother! Those gifts that he had - you gave them to him, didn’t you!?”
“I did,” Cadien nodded.
“Why!?”
“Because Ketrefa had to change. If not by your hand, then by Brundt’s. It could have even been both. You did not need to fight each other. You both chose to do that, because you saw no other way.”
“You didn’t tell me there was another way!”
“Did I need to? Did you not resent what little sway over your life I already held? Did you not chafe knowing you were being watched? I could have been with you, whispering in your ear after every step and attempting to dictate your every action, but I did not. I trusted you to use your own judgement. You were of my blood, born by my avatar, raised by good parents, and already experienced in command. You were given gifts by three different gods. You had everything you needed to succeed. And yet you sit here blaming me for not providing more help than I already had - help that you yourself already resented!”
Carn rose to his feet. “You told me to attack Ketrefa. Attack! How else was I supposed to interpret that?”
“War is not just blindly charging into battle,” Cadien reprimanded him. “You understood this. You still do. And yet, you did it anyway. Why?” Carn said nothing. “You wanted to lose. You wanted to die.”
Carn’s fist lashed out against Cadien’s cheek. He felt his knuckles crack against the god’s cheek, but Cadien did not move so much as an inch. Carn lashed out again, but this time Cadien caught his arm in an unbreakable grip.
“It’s the truth,” the god said. Carn began to tear up. “You are my creation and my champion. You are standing in my realm, directly in front of me. Your connection to me is as strong as it can possibly be - you can hide nothing. You sought no alternative, because you wished to die.”
“I wanted to be free of you!” Carn shouted.
“You had freedom. What did you do with it? You roamed the Highlands breaking skulls for greedy fops. I tried to give you a purpose. You rejected it, to run off with that red-haired witch. You became a leader - that was admirable. But you became obsessed with her, and when she left you turned your back on what you had built. If I had not contacted you, to bring you back onto your path, you would have wasted away into nothing. Then you met her again. She was no longer the woman you once knew, but you were too blind to see it.”
“SHUT YOUR MOUTH!”
The God’s voice became soft. “I would have given you your freedom back, in the end. Had you made the right choices, you would have reunited with your brother and made yourself a hero to the people. Hearing of your victory, your other siblings would have joined you. You would not have liked what one of them had become, but in time she might have changed. From there you would have been free to do what you see fit - rule the city, or seek a life elsewhere. Perhaps even with that Aurielle girl, if she had not chosen such a dark path.”
The god released his arm, and Carn dropped to his knees. “You’re… you’re cruel…” he whispered, tears running down his face. “None of this… none of this had to happen. You knew things I didn’t. You could have done things I couldn’t. You could have dealt with Ketrefa yourself! There didn’t need to be a war. Armies didn’t need to die. Thyma didn’t need to burn, and I didn’t need to lose my FAMILY!”
“You have my condolences, for your village,” Cadien whispered. “That was not my doing. I would have stopped it, had I known, but not even a god’s attention can be everywhere, and by the time I took notice it was too late.” Carn grit his teeth as he felt the anger return. “But… yes, you did not need to suffer as much as you did. There was more that I could have, and should have, done.”
The god crouched down, so that they were almost at eye level. “For that, you have my apologies.” He rose to his feet. “Think on what I have said, my son. I will speak with you again. Until then, you have free roam of my realm.”
And with those words the god of Perfection turned away, the hall silent save for the clinking of his armour and his footsteps on the thick carpet. A door opened, and closed.
Then Carn was alone.
He had knelt there for what felt like hours, unable to think of anything but what had been left behind. The hundreds of men, killed under Ketrefa’s walls. Aurielle… her laugh, her hair, her smile. His brother… his visible reluctance to fight, which had turned to sheer rage after Carn killed a soldier who must have been particularly close to him. He thought of Ingrid and Yarwick - what had become of them? He thought of Titania… abandoned because she was too stubborn, or perhaps simply too good, to accompany him on his quest. He thought of Lothar, the treacherous bastard who…
No. Lothar was not a traitor. He was a monster. A monster that sought redemption, but still a monster. And yet… wasn’t Carn one as well? How many men, how many women, how many children had he killed over his life? Directly or indirectly? Countless. How many excuses had he thrown together? How many times had he thought: ‘better him than me’ or ‘they deserve it’ or ‘it’s for a higher cause?’
He thought of Cadien’s words. Some part of him had wanted to die. That much was true. But it was Cadien who put him in that situation, who could have stopped the very same decisions which supposedly led to his downfall. Knowing what he knew now he would have done things differently, but how could a god fault him for not having perfect knowledge and judgement. It was an unjust world.
He wrestled back and forth with his thoughts, an internal debate waging within his mind. Hypotheticals were raised, pondered, and dismissed. He levelled accusations against himself and others, testing the weight of such claims, and wondering what they might say in response. Were these the desperate mental gymnastics of a man who was too stubborn to admit he was wrong? Or were they the thoughts of a victim who had seen so much torment, he no longer knew who to blame for what?
Or was he simply mad?
A burning in his throat told him he was thirsty. He rose to his feet on unsteady legs. He needed to find water…
He emerged blinking into the courtyard, and at once was greeted by the sight of Meliorem’s dual fountains. He rushed over to one and dunked his head in, sucking greedily, as the cool water felt refreshing against his skin. He stopped only to come up for air, before drinking again.
Once he had his fill, he rose to his feet and took a few moments to examine his surroundings. Next he needed to find food.
So he walked through the portcullis, and as he began to descend the steps he saw an island in the distance, with lush trees and a colourful village. At first he hesitated. Then his stomach began to rumble, and he decided to carry on.
He crossed the bridge unchallenged and unacknowledged. He could hear singing off in the distance, unlike any which he had heard before. Was some sort of celebration occurring? That could wait. He veered off the main road and carried on toward a tree located off to the side, several oddly-coloured fruits scattered at its base. He picked up one and bit into it, pleasantly surprised by its taste. Then he finished it, tossing away the core, and moved onto the second.
He was about to eat his third when he was finally interrupted. A single tendril snaked from the tree and wrapped about the odd fruit, plucking it right out of his hand. “You took one without asking, and I turned a blind eye. You took two, and that was getting rude. Three is too much. You could at least have the common decency to acknowledge me. Men!” Came the petulant melody. “And who goes plucking fruits and eating them right away anyway? And you really need a bath, just so you know.” The owner of the voice emerged from the thick branches above and landed in a soft flurry of red inky hair on the ground near Carn before biting into the piece of fruit she had taken. She eyed him with eyes of roiling turquoise, a pout on her lips and a swirl in her flowing brows. “Well, you’re odd. Not a Songman, and certainly not our Lord...” her frown deepened and her eyes narrowed, “you’re not some conniving casanova who snuck in here now are you? Because if you are you’re in for it.”
Carn sighed, staring at the fruit that had been taken from him. “It’s not like I chose to be here. I was brought here by your… lord. And you’d be hungry too, if you just fought and lost a war.”
The song raised her eyebrows and her lips curled in amusement as she took another bite from the fruit. “War? My, that’s a tad melodramatic - are things so bad between you and your lady? At least you had the good sense to lose, no point drawing these kinds of things out.”
He shook his head. “No. I meant an actual war. I was storming the city of Ketrefa, and I lost. Struck down my own brother. The lady I love was supposed to be right behind me, but I didn’t see her…” He suddenly felt worried. “I have no idea what happened to her.”
The song cocked her head and glanced thoughtfully to the side, then her eyes returned to his face and seemed to take his features in anew. “Ketrefa… ah. So you lost in the end! My goodness, this is going to make for great material! I’m Shae by the way, come!” And with that, she dropped the fruit and took him by the hand before hurrying off. “So you must be Carn right? Our lord told us so much about you! Goodness, you did some pretty bad things - foremost being that woman!” She laughed at her own joke. “But don’t mind me. Now look, the first thing you need is a good long soak. By the time you’re done with that you’re going to be hungry, so we’ll have cooked something up for you.”
She came to a stop before the bathhouse, releasing a sonorous chant to let everyone know that they had a guest. “You go in, relax, enjoy yourself and get all those years of exhaustion out of your body. And while you’re at it, just let your mind roam down memory lane so you can regale us with everything.” Her turquoise eyes had shifted to a passionate orange that seemed to harbour a liquid flame, and even her hair seemed to curl up and rustle as if alight. She leaned in slightly, her eyes on his. “You know… I always wanted to go down there. I guess you’ve come up here instead.” She chortled slightly, joy sloughing from her and pervading the very air around them both. “See you in a bit!” And with that she turned and leapt gracefully away, her hair streaming behind her.
Carn was left alone, feeling a sense of profound disappointment. Even up here everybody already knew about him. And the flippant way she had talked about his life… it was not the first time a singer had wished to make a song about him, but he always found the experience to be grating. What would they sing about him now, that he was a failure? And even if he were to leave this world and go back to Galbar… would he ever escape his reputation?
A few other songs were soon by his side, one hooking her arm in his. “We’ve never had a guest before,” she whispered, eyes wide. “Oh my lord, I’m going to burst from excitement.” And with that the beauteous sirens led the weary warrior into the bathhouse, their melodious voices whispering sweet nothings about how dashing one exploit or another of his had been. “I always wanted to play the role of Aurielle, but Shae always gets it.” The one on his arm complained euphoniously. It did not really matter what they were saying exactly, Carn found that their voices - their very presence - seemed to relax him and knead the tiredness and years of travel from his form.
“She does have the hair for it,” Carn said with a trace of old wit, before trying to shake the feeling off. Is this your plan, Cadien? Throw me into your realm with some beautiful women in the hopes that will cheer me up, and make me forget her? The thought made him feel bitter. It would have been an effective tactic against most men, but Carn liked to think he had more sense than that.
The bath that followed was quite unlike anything he had ever experienced before - it seemed like that blissful state between sleep and wakefulness, sinking in beautiful faces and beautiful voices, steaming water and perfumes grinding the dirt and blood and wounds away, the vibrant walls seeming to erupting into life all around him. Perhaps this was paradise.
“That was…” Carn said afterward, at a loss for words. For him a ‘bath’ had always been taking a dunk in a stream or a lake. Now, he felt cleaner and more rested than he ever had in his life. He was clad in a loose but comfortable robe, of a material he couldn’t quite determine. “I don’t know how to describe it…”
“I could give you some words,” Shae laughed, clearly amused by his reaction to their guest-cleaning ritual, “but perhaps some things are best felt rather than described.” She breathed him in. “And you smell human now - maybe even slightly divine. Keep this up and you’d be a man after my own heart.” She took his hand and led him away from the bathhouse, and once they were out of earshot she shot him a purse-lipped glare. “You didn’t get up to any funny business in there now, did you?”
“Of course not,” he almost scoffed. “If you know as much about Aurielle as you seem to imply, you know why that would be a bad idea.”
“Well, to be completely honest, I only know tidbits. Like, I know she’s destroyed a few cities in her time, really going in on the slaughter. I know she’s mastered the whole magic business - and I know she’s got the hots for you. Beyond that, it’s all quite spotty. Our lord can only tell us so much. But now I have you, so I guess you’ll be able to tell me a little more.” She paused. “And I’m glad you didn’t get up to anything, even if fear of your partner isn’t exactly the most noble of reasons.”
“You could say I’m more concerned about what she’d do to you than what she’d do to me,” Carn said, an ambiguous-yet-truthful answer to the statement; although he doubted there was any real chance that Aurielle would ever be up here, given how much Cadien seemed to disdain her.
“Oh, don’t worry yourself on my behalf - we songs are under the protection of Lord Cadien himself.” She assured him.
“She once got jealous of a suit of armour I had worn, and tried to destroy it.” Carn continued, causing Shae to cock her head and give him a quizzical smile.
“And you didn’t think that was a tad weird? I mean, a suit of armour?” She shrugged and chortled melodiously. “But the context always helps explain things like this, would love to hear the details.” She paused before a great doorway and looked inside. “I’ve brought him. We’ve gotten rid of those god-awful clothes he was wearing. We’re here for the good stuff, Saluna.” Shae walked into the small clothier’s workshop, gesturing for Carn to follow. It was an open, relatively high-ceilinged room with all kinds of fabrics strewn across a number of tables, with doors leading to storage rooms where even more fabrics were piled high. Seeing him staring, Shae smiled. “Silks, mohairs, cashmeres, cottons, wools, and linens woven into damasks, brocades, satins, velvets, muslins, moleskins, taffetas, lawns, sheer fabrics, broadcloths, chintz, gauzes, himroos, and lamés. The soul’s desire and the eye’s delight, or so they say.”
Most of it was more luxurious than anything Carn had ever seen in his entire life.
The clothier, Saluna, stepped forth and surveyed Carn, then turned her eyes on Shae. “You look like you’ve been climbing trees again,” the inkwoman sighed, her melody coming oddly sharp. She reached out and inspected the hem of Shae’s flowing dress. “You’ve ruined the brocades, idiot.”
“I did ask for something more sturdy.” The impenitent Shae responded.
“You’re beyond help! I’ve no idea where you went so wrong.” Releasing the hem she brought Carn to her, inky strings marking the breadth of his shoulders, the girth of his neck, chest, and hips, the length of his arms and legs, as well as his general height. Fabrics rose up behind her on threads of ink, and Saluna plucked them from the air as they came and placed them against Carn as she whispered to herself with furrowed flowing brows. “Right, you sit tight and I’ll be right back.” She intoned, before half-floating and half-walking into one of the storage rooms. Shae wandered about, flicking through some of the fabrics and picking up some of the dresses. “Keep your dirty little hands to yourself, Shaeylila!” Came Saluna’s voice from inside, and Shae exhaled loudly and dropped the fabrics.
“Fiine,” she muttered, turning to Carn with rolling eyes and pursed lips. “This is boring as all hell, and she’s as salty as salted fish, but at least you’ll look somewhat presentable when she’s done with you.”
Soon enough Saluna was back, carrying a pile of neatly placed clothing on her arm. She handed Carn a set of loose beige trousers and some silken undergarments, ordering him to put them on. She placed the other items on a nearby table and leaned back against it, watching Carn.
Well, it was better than the robe he currently wore. He looked at the undergarments with brief confusion, but it didn’t require much intuition to realize what they were for. He put them on underneath the robe, then the trousers as well, before finally taking the robe off. He gave her an awkward nod. She eyed the trouser for a few seconds, then smiled.
“Good, perfect fit. Naturally.” She said it with unveiled pride. “And now for… this.” She handed him a fine long tunic of gilded silk and cotton, helping him get it over his head and wriggle his arms through. It was a tailor fit, and she busied herself with buttoning the cuffs before turning to the half placket and doing the same. She gently pulled the long tunic down around his broad chest and bent down slightly to ensure it hung just under the knees, before stepping back and regarding him. Seeming pleased, she turned to the next item, an extensively embroidered pair of slip-on leather shoes of a refined golden hue - Carn was pretty certain that they may have had actual gold in them, though how that was escaped him. Saluna bent low before him and tapped his right foot. “Up,” she said, and then slipped on the first, before turning to his other foot and doing the same. “Go on, have a walk-about, see how it feels.”
So, he did, doing a quick circle around the room. He wasn’t used to clothing or footwear so comfortable. “I’ve never worn anything like this before,” he said, looking down at himself.
“Of course, there’s probably no one on all of Galbar who could make you something like this.” Then, with a more hushed melody, “why, I don’t know if even the gods could clothe you as well as I. But don’t tell them I said that!” She laughed slightly, then turned to the last item, a great golden long, thick and metallic, boasting golden beads and ornate depictions of arches and golden flowers and carefully detailed geometric patterns. Saluna stepped to his side and ordered him to stick his hand out, and when he did she slipped on the first sleeve, and came up behind him so he could get his other arm through. She turned him towards her and ensured it was on right. Unlike the tunic underneath the long jacket, the placket was covered by a flap and Saluna set to carefully buttoning and straightening it until it hugged his frame completely. She passed an ink hand through his hair, the strands seeming to stick to it and yield completely to her touches. When that was done, she placed her hands on his shoulders and smiled. “And how do you feel now?” She spoke low, as though she already knew the answer. “Because I can tell you that, now, you look like a man.”
“Yes yes yes, clothes make the man and all that. Are we done already?” Shae asked, pulling her away from him with a small scowl. Saluna righted herself and glared at the other song.
“Yes, we’re done. I was thinking an earring might be quite stylish, but we’ll leave that for another time. Can’t give everything all at once after all.” Shae nodded distractedly and hooked her arm in his, dragging him out of the workshop. She glanced behind her as they walked away, and once they were once more out of earshot she glowered at him.
“Well, you seemed to enjoy that.” She spoke accusingly.
Carn furrowed his brow. “You were the one who brought me there.” Then he paused. “Is there some sort of issue between the two of you?”
“No,” Shae spoke simply, looking away from him as they walked into the theatre. A number of songs were already gathered, reclined on cushions with a great spread of fruits, sweetmeats, and drinks before them, instruments on their laps or at their sides. A gentle song was emanating from them all as Shae and Carn walked into the great space and joined them on the cushions. Shae picked up a sweetmeat and placed it into Carn’s hand. “Try this, I don’t think you have its like down on Galbar.” The gathered songs, men and women, slowly paused their conversations and looked to Carn.
“The great Carn himself!” One of the songmen declared, strumming a few strings. “Looking as regal as a god. It’s quite different to have the real thing among us.” Shae glanced at Carn with a satisfied smile, leaning in and whispering into his ear.
“See, I set you up rather nicely. Imagine if you’d come in here like I found you!”
“Ah, I see Shae’s already whispering and scheming into your ear. You better watch out from that one - there’s a reason she’s not found herself a songman yet.” The same man replied.
“Yes, and that’s because you’re all poor sods who could never handle the likes of me. True art is fated to never be understood. Oh!” Shae responded melodramatically, falling into Carn’s lap and settling there reclined with her head on his thigh. “Can’t you sing us something Haerid, you’ve been doing too much of this chattering recently. I worry you’ve forgotten how to sing.” The songman in question harrumphed at the accusation and began strumming his lute more fervently, nodding to the others to join him. Drums slowly sounded, their beat growing louder and more insistent, flutes hummed and cymbals were struck ever so gently. The voices of songs joined the flowering sound - some deep, others high - and once the prelude had built up to a small climax Haerid’s voice cut across warm and steady.
“The breezes of Melioriem
Come soft and calm today
They bring with them a hero who
Never fled from the fray
The battle god smiles on victors
Or at least so they say
But tomes are writ that praise and laud
The victor’s noble prey!
Oh sing along oh sing along
Here’s one who bravely fell
The fright of war never scared him
Nor raging battle’s knell
He leapt in there, a wild lover,
Whose heart with battle swells
And now with him gone from the fray
War pines for him and yells!
O sing along, oh sing along
A heated battlesong!”
Come soft and calm today
They bring with them a hero who
Never fled from the fray
The battle god smiles on victors
Or at least so they say
But tomes are writ that praise and laud
The victor’s noble prey!
Oh sing along oh sing along
Here’s one who bravely fell
The fright of war never scared him
Nor raging battle’s knell
He leapt in there, a wild lover,
Whose heart with battle swells
And now with him gone from the fray
War pines for him and yells!
O sing along, oh sing along
A heated battlesong!”
Shae glanced up at Carn as the song continued, plopping sweet fruits and bits of fruit now into her mouth and now into his. But Carn raised a hand up to stop her.
Memories of the battle he had fought and lost only a few hours ago flashed before his eyes. He suddenly found it difficult to breathe. As the music continued, it eventually became too much to bear. He soon found himself almost unconsciously rising to his feet and make his way toward the exit.
“Way to go Haerid,” Shae’s voice sounded, and she was soon by his side. “Come, let’s go get some air away from these dunderheads.” She motioned for him to follow her as she cut between the buildings and was soon outside the perimeter of the town. She headed up a steep hill and came to a stop at a humble cliff overlooking the endless ocean. She sat herself there, her legs dangling over the edge, and looked back at him. “Come, sit with me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“You wouldn’t understand,” he said, not meeting her gaze or moving to sit with her. Everything about this place was just… too happy. Too peaceful. “Has anyone here ever seen a battle? When was the last time you were in danger?” She leaned back until she was completely on her back staring at the heavens.
“The last time we were in danger… well; have you ever felt the world end all around you? Everything just falling apart completely - the sky hurtling down, the earth surging up, waves of world-stuff crashing all around you. The full force of a god trying to obliterate you. That was the last time I was in danger.” She paused for a few seconds. “But that was some time back. Now we’re safe here thanks to Lord Cadien - and so are you. So, go, try me. What are these deep, harrowing thoughts that I wouldn’t understand?”
“I may be here,” he said. “But the men and women who followed me… they aren’t. Where is their paradise? Their song? I’m not some hero. I went there to save my brother, and it turned out he didn’t need saving. Everyone else who followed me paid the price.” He sighed bitterly. “I should have died.” Shae turned over and placed her chin on her hands, looking at him with slightly pursed lips.
“You don’t have to be a hero - or think you’re one - for others to consider you as such. If you thought you were a hero, I’d have seconds thoughts about whether you are.” She paused for a few seconds. “Heroship is just thrust on you, you don’t get to choose - you’ll just find it creeping up on you whatever you do. You went off selling your services for money - you didn’t think you were a hero, didn’t want to be a hero. But before you knew it you had people around you and a cause that went beyond you or them. It was a cause they believed in so strongly that they were willing to die for it. They knew what was at stake when they followed you, they knew victory wasn’t guaranteed, they knew they could die. And they followed you anyway - because you were their hero, and because they were willing to die. You can’t go blaming yourself because what they knew could happen did happen. I don’t know what happens to the dead - Lord Cadien probably knows, you could ask him - but here’s the thing: you’re not dead. And there is no point wishing you were. I’m pretty sure any one of your dead companions would just about slap you or punch you for saying something like that.” She rolled on her back again and sighed. “But that’s just me, what would I know, right?”
Carn slowly lowered himself into a sitting position in the grass. She had a point, that much he had to concede, but it still felt wrong to just casually move past something so recent. “How am I supposed to just go on after everything that happened?” There were a few moments of silence, and then Shae rolled to her knees and came over to him and looked him in the eye.
“You’re going to go on one second at a time, one minute at a time, one hour and day at a time. And you’re not going to think about how much it hurts, or how long this hurting will go on for. You need to live in the moment and find yourself again. That’s what you need right now, Carn. You can’t be thinking and worrying about others when you need to worry about you for a change. Right now the only person you can help, and the only person you should help, is you.” Her eyes had faded to a dim blue, her hair likewise had settled in a roiling purple and her face had grown pale. She looked to the side, a knot in her brows and lips slightly pursed. “Gee, now I’m all upset too.” She said, shaking herself from it. “You should cheer me up,” she flicked his forehead lightly, clearly trying to lighten his mood.
Carn found himself smirking despite all that still weighed on his mind. “Oh?” he asked. “How would you suggest I do that?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you could carry me back to those sweetmeats, I hadn’t had my fill. Or we can go tree-climbing and give Saluna a heart-attack when she sees your clothes.” She smiled mischievously. “That’ll show her.” She fell on her back again and lay there, listening to the waves crashing against the cliffs far below. “W-wait.” She shot back up into a seated position. “Do you know how to swim?”
“I do,” he nodded reluctantly. “Not particularly well, though. Why?” Her eyes brightened at his response.
“Oh my oh my oh my! Alright, let’s go! You need to teach me.” And without waiting for any protests or agreement, she shot to her feet, grabbed him by the hand, and leapt off - dragging him along near-airbound. “There’s this really nice alcove I found - no one will disturb us there!” And they disappeared over the hill to the sound of her euphonious chattering and laughter.
