A/N: My second RS story. I and roomskape dot tumblr dot com started fangirling about Sliske and this was born. Check out our Tumblrs (mine is saiansha dot tumblr dot com) for more RS-related stuff, and enjoy and review! Thanks to everyone who commented on The Hands of a Mahjarrat - I received way more reviews - and all of them encouraging - than I had expected for such a small fanfiction fandom. I wish I could've replied to the guests as well, but your support is what counts!
There was a blinding flash, brighter than the lightning that dominated the stormy skies. And then a resounding boom, louder than the shrieks of the Muspah. And then there was only smoke. The Ritual Marker was one Mahjarrat less. There were no Muspah to destroy, no Mother to rejuvenate, and yet, Shyasana was dead.
No wonder our numbers dwindle by the day while the Mahserrat and Chelon-Mah finish off the rest of us, Wahisietel thought.
"See, that is the problem with you, brother." A voice came from the empty space to his right. "You think, and think, and think, but you never do."
Wahisietel looked straight ahead neutrally, waiting for Azzanadra and Temekel to dismiss the rest of the tribe away.
"Let this traitor to our ways be a reminder to you all of your worth should you decide to go down the same path as her. On your way, now!" Temekel boomed and the rest of the Mahjarrat began filing away, some bored, some gleeful, some neutral, or some, like Wahisietel, merely otherwise preoccupied.
Wahisietel too began walking, not bothered at all by the fact that he still had a conversation to finish with his brother, or that the said brother was nowhere to be seen. He was used to having his brother speak from the Shadow Realm. He was also used to neither hearing nor seeing Sliske for long periods of time because he had to hide from the wrath of a Mahjarrat mother whose whelp he had scared beyond consolation by whispering strange nothings to it from the Shadow Realm.
"What has got you in such a huff today?" Sliske's voice echoed by his side.
"You know better than to sneak up and act like nothing is amiss when Temekel and Azzanadra are as angry as… as…." Wahisietel fumbled for a powerful analogy.
"As Mother Mah spewing lava?" Sliske suggested.
"Hmph."
"Oh, come on. Surely you can't be taking this pagan madness to such extent that now you even refuse to create witty analogies? I am disappointed, brother."
"Will you stop yelling into thin air? Do you want to see me on the Marker next?" Wahisietel swung around and tried reaching into the Shadow Realm.
His efforts were rewarded by a cackle. "Oh, don't you dare make this about me, Wahizzle. I knew you were attached to Shyasana. I knew you spent journeys on end talking to her. Perhaps if you had not been so selfish you would have spent some time telling her to keep her mouth shut instead of opening it in the first place. But no! You just have to learn theories and whatnot, don't you?"
Wahisietel snarled. "That is not my fault. She had a good mind, a sane mind, but if she was not smart enough to be more discrete, then just as well she died before anyone could raise a suspicion about me. I am far more upset that a mind with original ideas had to die and that there are so few of those as it is."
"There, there." Sliske materialised back onto Freneskae and patted Wahisietel's shoulder in a gesture of mock comfort. Wahisietel was not too slow to shrug off his brother's hand. "A pair like us is more than what this tribe deserves. As it is, I wouldn't be surprised if you did have your claws in sharing some of these theories on Shayasan's behalf with Azzanadra and the other overseers – only once you'd learnt all you could from her, of course."
They were walking back to the current site where the tribe was camping. The lightning, the bubble of the lava and the whistling of the smoke punctuated their conversation. It was tricky at the best of times to cross the perilous grounds of Freneskae, but it was especially difficult this moment when he was obviously deeply rattled while Sliske did precious little to help (as always).
"What makes you think I would do something like you would do, Sliske?" He schooled his expression.
"You are my brother, of course, Wahisietel. We aren't all that different when it comes to survival."
"See, that is the problem with you, brother." He threw Sliske's own words back at him. You think, think and think, but all in vain. Not everyone is as manipulative as you."
"Not everyone, no." Sliske agreed. "But you can come pretty close."
Wahisietel let out a huff and hastened his pace. There was little point arguing with Sliske, especially when he was in the mood to twist and warp whatever words you uttered. He needed to think in peace. He needed to assimilate what was happening. The most recent of the Mahjarrat who believed that the Ritual of Rejuvenation was indeed a tool of political control had become a victim of the same play of politics. He was clever enough to maintain peace with almost every member of the tribe, but he did naturally have a less superficial bond with those whom he had discovered shared his ideas. No one, however, could say that he had anything more than a casual bond with Shyasana's predecessors.
But Shyasana had been different.
It had been noticed that these two would often confer well and often, and someone associated this closely with him being sacrificed also raised questions if he'd known what "traitorous ramblings" she had had on her mind. Just as well she was dead, though. While she certainly viewed the Ritual as a form of control, she was surely going to cry "heresy" if he'd told her that he believed that even Mah was a figure of legend and imagination.
But this turn of events made him question his own ideas and thoughts. He had nothing at all to prove that Mah and the Muspah were legends, or that the Ritual of Enervation was merely a custom and not a reprieve from the earthquakes and so on. What did he have to support him? Mere observations? Mere cynicism? This was nothing better than what the rest of his tribespeople had. It was as substantial and prolific as the charred soil, as weighty as the smoke.
He needed proof. Conclusive evidence. But how was he ever going to get that? Especially now that Temekel was surely going to keep a stricter eye on him. He had seen that flicker of suspicion in Temekel's eyes at the Ritual itself. He may never present his findings to his tribe, but he needed it for his own sanity of mind. He needed it so that at the very least he could declare that he wasn't being unreasonable.
"Have you been listening to anything that I've been saying?" Sliske suddenly piped up.
"You haven't been saying anything, Sliske." He said shortly.
"Oh, alright, alright, I swear I won't mention Shyasana again, if that's what it takes to get you talking. I also won't even suggest that the reason why you chose to talk to her in the first place is not just because she may have had a good mind, but also because you needed to get all the information on her as you feared that she might be a rival."
Wahisietel never denied that.
"So what are you going to do now, brother? Whom are you going to send to the Marker next?" Sliske asked.
They had reached back into the settlement. Both brothers went separate ways to find out if there were any chores that needed to be completed, before reconvening in the Shadow Realm.
"I need proof. I fear I am going as mad as these zealots." Wahisietel said.
"Proof of what?"
"Proof that indeed Mah and Muspah do not exist, that the Rituals of Rejuvenation and Enervation have nothing to do with her but the fact that we can't stand the sight of each for longer than one journey to a new settlement."
Sliske chuckled. "And why do you need this proof? You have never doubted yourself before."
"It is not a matter of doubt, but a matter of certainty. Without knowledge, I fear I shall be as misguided and no better in my approach to life than Temekel and Azzanadra."
"Is my word proof enough?" Sliske asked, perfectly serious. "I do not believe you are wrong."
"Your faith is touching," Wahisietel rolled his eyes. "But I need concrete proof and not the words of a trickster."
"Well, for all its worth, I do find your ideas more compelling than the drivel we were brought up on. But yes, proof shall certainly make this much more worthwhile and interesting for me to actively dwell upon. Any ideas?"
"You… you want to help me?" Wahisietel gawked. "Why?"
"Because you're my brother, Wahizzle." Sliske reached out to stroke the bone ridges on Wahisietel's head. His display of affection was not well received.
"Blood ties have never prompted such… loyalty. I have seen daughters drag fathers and brothers drag sisters to their deaths. Why should I trust you?"
"Well, you are the only one who can keep up with me so I find you interesting. Plus, you are the only one who can actually attempt to come up with a halfway decent solution to a problem. Oh, and also, you are the only one who will not actively try to kill me or send me to my death. And, of course, you can put up wards against me from trying to snatch you into the Shadow Realm. I can respect that. Are those reasons enough for you to assure you that I will not betray you? I hope you do not expect me to declare undying fealty to you."
"Don't worry, I know you are utterly incapable of providing the last one."
"Well, what matters is that you believe me on the other fronts, Wahizzle."
"Sliske, don't call me that."
"I have a nickname for everyone and everything. I shall be delighted and honoured if you return the favour."
"Very well." Wahisietel sighed. "What do we do now? I do not think I shall be able to go up to the volcano myself. I need to make sure that Temekel does not suspect my loyalty and faith."
"As always, you make the younger brother do all the work and then you claim that you're better than me." Sliske sighed. "Oh well, it shall be fun at least. But I need you to do something for me."
"Oh, here it comes," Wahisietel snorted. "I am actually surprised you didn't bring this up before. Am I actually having a positive effect on you, brother?"
"Oh stop giving yourself so much credit. It is for the plan. I need you to fake a Chelon-Mah or Mahserrat raid for me."
"What?" Wahisietel yelped. "Why?"
"Because things are boring and I need a believable reason to go up the volcano. Considering the success ratio of Mahjarrat embarking on that journey and returning, I find it hard to believe that the tribe would be happy to let its best Shadow Realm controller to go there without a battle-related reason. Also, like you mentioned, you can't go there either because you have to make sure your reputation is stable enough. But you can go scouting and stir up a tizzy and fight in the army. That shall not only ensure your safety, but also give you a reason to accompany me. Then we can bask in the infinite majesty of Mother Mah together."
"You need not have spoken at such length, Sliske. It might be better if you do not let others see how much you love the sound of your own voice."
"I can't help it, brother. But you should feel privileged enough that I am not asking you anything in return. What I have asked is just a part of the plan."
"Oh, admit it, you are just as curious."
"I am, but that doesn't mean I have to help you without calling a future favour from you. Now, we've spoken long enough. Farewell!"
Wahisietel felt himself being pushed out of the Shadow Realm and back into the harshness of Freneskae. The weather was oddly both boiling and chilling, and he could feel both temperatures hitting his body in highly uncomfortable ways. The weather did nothing to alleviate the worry and despair in his mind. If he were a simpleton, he would've said that he felt something twisted coming. If he were a zealot, he would've said that he felt a horde of Muspah attacking. If he were a leader or a politician, he would've said that it was the payment of all his sins and treachery being met out to him. But since he was Wahisietel, he would not say any of this, as he simply does not know.
He does not know, he cannot know and he has no means of knowing and this was why it worried him beyond reason.