Themerlinhawk
Sir Garrett looked up and then looked down at his plate again at the question. Without meeting the prying gaze of the maids and Marianne he set down his utensils suddenly much less interested in his food. This was a story that really wasn’t meant for the dinner table and he had the feeling that if he went down this road it would make the maids less keen to let him near Marianne.
Do I really care enough? And if I do care that much. Why am I going to tell her?“So.”
Sir Garrett paused as he let his eyes wander again not making eye contact some more before he finally focused in on Marianne figuring he at least owed her that. “Before you get to hear that story you need to hear another part of our culture. We have something similar to your practice of a Knight's trial. Only ours is the first 20 years of our lives. When we are born we are sent to live with the nomadic portion of our culture. Part of my people live in strongholds across the hills of Velt. The rest of us move about living like we did in the past. Part of it is preservation of culture and training for the young. The other part has to do with the Barrows which we use to bury our dead. They must be cared for and properly maintained. If the clan fails to take care of the resting places the dead awaken and begin to haunt the traveling groups and begin to acost those who are traveling near the Barrows. Occasionally a Barrow will go unattended for too long due to a particularly difficult winter or the loss of a particular nomadic group. We then have to go to the Barrow and subdue the undead there.”
Picking up his drink he took a long draught of the water; pretending it was something stronger. “When my younger sister was born she was born frail. Born a Keeper; however at the time we were still traveling. I was three at the time that she was born. My older brother was five. Sheliana Thorn. She was nothing but a joy for my brother and I. Regardless of her status as a Keeper she always did her best to help with chores. Time passed and we added two more younger children to the Thorn siblings. When I was twenty we were finally called to subdue a Barrow. Bare in mind that my entire life I was taught not to rely on magic. It was too easy, a cheat that we did not need to live an honorable and fulfilling life. Those who relied on magic were squandering their potential. Ana was an exemplar Keeper. Not only did she excel at her training there was talk that she would become a Shaman when she was older. Beyond the diplomacy, reading, writing, magic, she was also accomplished with the horses.” Staring into his cup he looked up again “She could hit an apple at twelve meters with a knife no problem. Well, eventually we were called to reclaim a Barrow. A feat few have ever accomplished. It was the ancestral burial ground of our family.” Trailing off Sir Garrett ran his finger around the edge of the goblet. “Well….one of them. My family is quite prominent. Suffice to say we didn’t need the Barrow but my uncle convinced that if they let Ana help we could take the Barrow by storm. Ana of course was thrilled; the rest of my siblings were happy to have our baby sister. We didn’t even think twice.”
“When we got to the Barrow we went right in not thinking twice. It was a trap. It turned out that the reason the Barrow was so problematic had to do with the fact that a Shaman had been buried there. A Shaman who had aspirations beyond the grave. Ana went in with use wielding earth magic and fire magic that would make most sorcerers quiver in their boots. It seemed as though it would be a simple cleansing with the five of my siblings cutting down anything that even moved towards our baby sister. That was when the Shaman chose that moment to possess our sister. She turned on us and slaughtered a dozen of the warriors with us. The five of us managed to subdue her.”
Sir Garrett finally snapped his gaze back up to Marianne. “We took her back to a stronghold hoping that a Shaman there could help her. The Shaman claimed he cast out the spirit. I don’t know if he just said so because he thought he had or if the spirit did something to him. In the end it doesn’t matter. My sister razed the Stronghold to the ground. Most of our nomad group survived because we were outside the Stronghold at the time. As if that were not bad enough; my sister started raising the dead to fight alongside her. Of Course my siblings and I went in after her; we found the Shaman. He claimed her had a way to force the spirit out of her, we took his word and we took the herb he gave us and coated our weapons in a paste made of it. Ana fled and we chased her. I caught up to her a several kilometers from the stronghold. The spirit had given her an unnatural vigor; we fought and I cut her. The Shaman had lied and instead of forcing the spirit out it killed the spirit outright. I don’t know what happened but just when I thought I had my sister back the night had one more surprise for me. When she opened her eyes their was no sign of the ghost light that had blazed in them. That was when she cut me open and left me to die. She claimed that the spirit had shown her what she was really meant to do and that we had been holding her back for years.”
Slowly closing his hands into fist Sir Garrett looked back down at his food.
I can’t waste such fine food Picking up his fork Sir Garrett went back to slowly eating occasionally flicking his gaze to Marianne to take in her reaction to the story. “I apologize for the morbid story, but ever since them I’ve been incredibly suspicious of all magic users. It also is my explanation for my opinion of Tyeathe.” Finally he fell silent as he finished off his meal.
@harinezumikouken
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