A/N: Guess who's writing a one-shot now?
Unlike the previous three, this is not a contest entry for the Redwall Abbey Community Forum. But this makes for a good tale anyways.
Like Take Your Place is to A Realm Reborn, this is sort of a Pre-Prologue to the Old Thordan Prequel, or Arcana - its official title. So with regards to Heavensward, it's a prequel to a prequel (Arcana) to a prequel (A Realm Reborn)! Brilliant!
I would like to apologise for the (relatively) lowered quality of the story. I was under quite a bit of writer's block while this was finished, and I hope to make up to it with Arcana.
MAY YOUR HEARTS BE YOUR GUIDING KEYS!
Thaumaturgy
THE SKEIN OF SEVERANCE, THE WINDSHARD
Matoya walked down the corridors. The ratmaid huddled in her black cloak as the room got closer and closer.
Yashtol was dead. Her friend was gone forever. She was loyal to the Convocation, she had been loyal to the Ward, she had been loyal to Minfille, yet she died insane, screaming for destruction, and rotting from the inside out.
In a sense, she had been a puppet of the Ward. Who was she supposed to be?
Who am I supposed to be?
The ratmaid paused and looked around. It was the Skysent's good fortune that there were few paths that lead to nowhere in the fortress of sorts. The Skein was all white, either wrought by Conjurers from the whitest of marble, or Veiled to look like it. Probably the latter. Aside from reflecting light right into the eyes of both Landborn and Skysent, it also did not help with navigation - all halls looked the same. Luckily for Matoya, she had lived here for all of her life - no night was not spend under these walls.
Unluckily for Matoya, it was significantly less convenient to leave. All Skysent that even had the slightest chance of using the Ruin were confined here, and Yashtol had been one of them. She exceeded the Blessing's scales by a level, and rapid use had left to prolonged exposure to the Contamination. Her vulpine friend had to die, and Matoya could do nothing but weep.
But there was, like many other little things, a problem. If all the Convocation feared was Skysent getting evil and snapping the world into little pieces again, then why keep them alive?
Tancred kept secrets about Yashtol, and hid them from me even when I asked about them. As Haumeric, he is also privy to the dealings of the Ward and the Convocation alike. He is the only one who knows the truth.
If only there were another…
Seeing a white cloak in the Sitting Hall, Matoya dashed forward, almost tripping on her cloak twice in the process, and earning a chuckle from her Bonder. The otter graduated from the Scholasticate as one of its best, and so his future among the Convocation's elite was all but secure. His destiny lay elsewhere, however, for Zephirin, having observed Tancred's exceptional Conjuring abilities, bid him join the Heavens' Ward. A Landborn of strong and unbending principles, the newly dubbed Haumeric has long strived to walk the righteous path, and so he holds beasts who dwell in what is evil (like Charibert, for instance) in great contempt.
"Tancred." Matoya could have counted herself lucky for getting an Bondbeast who actually understands her. That already was rare, but the otter had actually grown to like her.
"Hey." Normally, the otter would have been more enthusiastic, but the days have not been good on them. After all, their friend was dead, Minfille's getting more and more distant, and Matoya herself was about to hammer the final nail in the coffin.
"Have you known about Yashtol all this time?" Matoya was all too tempted to cross her paws, but she held herself back at the last minute.
"No." The taller Landborn knelt to meet her eyes. "Not all this time. Not from the start."
A long, tense silence followed, and Matoya took two steps forward. "You knew that I'm a Thaumaturge, right? Just like she was." There was no reply.
Paws were finally crossed. "But the Convocation tried to get us out of the way, right? To all of you Landborn, mice, squirrels, otters, hedgehogs - all of you! We are just tools!"
"That's not true-" Tancred stammered forth just before he realised that it was true. "Alright. You win. But finding out the truth won't make you happy."
"And suddenly you're so sure about that! I have the right to know the truth! What's wrong with wanting some answers?"
Tancred sighed like it was the only thing he could do. "Matoya."
"I need to know. I need answers. I need a purpose." The ratmaid turned away from her former friend. "And somebeast will give it to me. Somebeast else."
She heard pawsteps converging on her, and lifted a claw towards the shocked Tancred. "I need to know. Where I'm headed to doesn't matter. I am done with this. I am done with you."
She turned, and ran.
Packing up was the easy part. Matoya never had anything much on her anyways.
She had thoughts of staying before her last conversation with Tancred, but that was thrown out of the figurative window. Now, she scrambled to put as many canteens of smallbeer into a bag.
She had no idea where she was going - the world is large and diverse, and not everybeast would tolerate a Skysent roaming around - some of the most hard-headed Landborn still called beasts like Matoya 'vermin'.
Being a Thaumaturge made things much, much worse. The Windshard had been tainted by some pollution, which Zephirin has creatively dubbed 'the Contamination'. Thaumaturges like Matoya were feared more than hated - though she has not went off the deep end yet.
All Thaumaturges, all Skysent who had the gift of magic, were all turned (or turning) into vile shells of their own self, capable of nothing but evil. For mastery had brought pride, and pride had its price.
The ratmaid had only ventured into the Ruin, the Source of all Thaumaturgy thrice, and the ensuing sickness led to… consequences. But to find herself, to free herself, Matoya decided that she would raise the stakes.
Picking up her staff from the wall, she sighed. Stardust might not have been an Amplifier, but Matoya found it a good thing to whack beasts on the head with.
The bets were made, and the die has been cast, and she sprinted from the confines of her room for the last time.
Escape from the Skein was never heard of before. After all, all vermin there were treated well by their Bondbeasts. As far as Matoya was concerned, she could even be the first.
But she had steps to take before figuratively running away. The library was the place she had to head to. She just has to know all about what she can do.
Funnily enough for her, there was no one stopping her. Could it be that Zephirin wants me free? No. 'All Thaumaturges are a blight to the world' and all that. So why isn't he here?
As if on cue, a tingling sensation filled Matoya's bones. They're coming!
Shadows pooled on the ground, and Matoya was no stranger to the ones that walked through them. Creatures welded and summoned by Conjuration.
Matoya made no guess to whether they were Dancers, Berserkers, or Myrmidons - she ran. None of the three - none of the Arcane could run, and for once, the Skysent was gald about a design flaw.
Skidding to the right, Matoya panted. She was here.
The Skein library was the biggest in the whole of the Windshard - after all, the rest have been ruined by Thaumaturges who have been Contaminated. Most have been burnt to a crisp, and the rest are immersed in a fine layer of toxic gas, enough to kill a full-grown beast, though not enough to deter any others from venturing in.
Pawsteps were heard, and Matoya hid behind a corner.
"Are you sure that your Bonder has not released her Bond yet?" Zephirin. The head of the Ward was a stern shrew, with all the strain a position of leadership had brought on him etched on his face. He may not be tall by any means, but his mastery of Conjuration more than made up for it.
"No. The Bond doesn't tell me her exact location though. I know for sure that she's here in the Skein, but it gets fuzzy from here."
"It would simply be illogical to trace her down here - she must have moved forward to the gates now - or close to it." Zephrin scowled.
Tancred, or Haumeric at the moment, smiled at his superior. "Agreed." Matoya sighed silently in relief as she heard the creation of a Pathway, and two beasts stepping away.
The Skysent had heard tales of her kind being amongst the best of thieves. In other worlds, like the Watershard or the Earthshard, 'vermin' always carried that kind of reputation, while in the Fireshard or the Lightningshard, 'vermin' are treated just as well as other beasts - which wasn't too good either. Time changes the world, she supposed.
Her efforts at sneaking were not that good. Tancred's way of thinking was to rush into battle with both chakrams, and that must have rubbed off on Matoya. Taking care to not trip on the tip of her toeclaws, Matoya made her way into the Depository.
The smell of paper entered Matoya's nose with all the subtlety of a mace. Gliding to the Seercraft section, she placed her staff on the racks of books and began piling books into her bag. She needed them, after all. One maid in a whole wide world needs to know how to defend herself - especially with madness creeping over the horizon.
Even if it means becoming a vile husk of her old self.
She could barely hear a whizzing sound emanate from behind her. A Dancer! She barely had enough time to grab its arm before it lashed out at her throat, clipping her ear in the process. The tentacle-like appendage was halted, but it managed to slink away - just enough space for Matoya to whack it hard in the leg with Stardust. Stumbling, the Conjured abomination was unable to react to the second blow to the head. Dancers were tricky beings. They were slender, faceless constucts with flexible jointless appendages. They were exactly like golems, but without any hard part within them. They come out of nowhere, but the tables could be turned.
More will come soon… She skulked through cases of books in what she imagined was a stealthy manner. Dropping to all fours, she surfed on the wooden floorboards. The exit may not be near, but she would make it.
"Leaving so soon?" Matoya turned, and shivered. Minfille. The badger sow had never been the same after Yashtol's fall, and she seemed almost glad to let all the anger within her out. Called Hermenoste by the Ward, her Conjuration-enhanced battleaxe was a weapon of her own making, and it was one Matoya had never dreamed would have been used on her.
Hermenoste's paws were crossed, and her eyes seemed to stare right into the rat's very soul. "As you know, we don't really accept resignations."
"I don't have anything to say to you, Hermenoste." This was the first time Matoya had ever spoken to a Landborn rudely - she only hoped that it would be worth it.
"Then let's keep everything short and sweet." The badger's face was stonelike as she Conjured her axe out of nowhere.
But Matoya was already on her. Charging right into her with Stardust, she narrowly managed to guide the tip of the staff right into the larger beast's chest. With a grunt, Minfille staggered a bit, only to swing at the Thaumaturge.
Spinning towards her left, the weary rat panted. Though she was not yet wounded, she was the more inexperienced fighter, and nothing good can come of fighting against a seer.
She had no choice.
Plunging deep into the Ruin, beyond the oily taint that had accumulated across its surface, she grasped it. Holding the urge to vomit, the ratmaid screamed.
The badgersow could only form a Wind-shield around herself before the spear of ice tore through the air, smashing into the shield. Before the Warder could do more, another cold lance worked its way into the first one, shattering her shield and tearing through everything. The last image Hermenoste saw before slipping under was her broken axe clattering on the floorboards.
Looks like Stardust is an Amplifier after all.
Letting go of the Ruin took another effort not to gag, but soon Matoya was on her own two feet.
"Matoya!" The ratmaid was tired of turning towards the voices of the Ward, so she didn't even respond to Tancred's voice.
The otter glanced at the falen badger, then at the Thaumaturge. "Your mind's made up, huh?" He staggered as he felt the Bond between them slacken and disconnect.
"I won't return. Ever." Matoya hid her nausea for a third time as she opened a Pathway of her own. No angling of worlds was needed, unlike every time Tancred did so. She simply punched through the Rift. "Nobeast would miss me anyways."
"That's not true!" Tancred shouted as loud as he could, but the girl he had raised was already gone, maybe forever. "I would."