Obligations
Those of you who've read Storm Constantine's Wraeththu trilogy will be thrilled to learn that about a dozen years after its publication, there is a wonderfully rich body of fanfic cropping up -- with Storm's encouragement.
This is a Wraeththu story of mine I've already shared within the Wraeththu fan fic community. The storyline is set a few months after the conclusion of Bewitchments and stars, among others, Swift.
DISCLAIMERS & NOTES
Although the characters are all original, this story is set in a world created by Storm Constantine. I make no profit from the writing of this story.
For background on Wraeththu, see the Wraeththu Companion (http://www.ultrago.com/wraeththu/). For fanfic, see Forever (http://www.angelfire.com/ca6/forever/), for the community see the Wraeththu Yahoo! group (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/wraeththu), and for Storm's site see http://www.stormconstantine.com (what else?).
Obligations
by Wiebke Fesch
Oct. 2001
-----Part 1-----
The forest was dense and shrouded in darkness. Somewhere high above, over the tree tops, the sun shone brightly. Swift squinted into the shadows ahead, looking for a path. Only by following Ashmael, on horseback ahead, could he be sure of his next step.
He glanced over to Seel, mounted on the horse beside him. Before he could even form a question, Seel nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. He knows where we're going."
Swift returned his attentions to following the invisible path. An hour earlier he and Seel had been speaking to Ashmael as part of a visit to Fogta, a former Varr outpost, when Ashmael had received an urgent summons via mind message. Two of his soldiers, on a mission to explore the surrounding land, had encountered a situation with which they needed guidance and, just in case, backup support.
In the heart of the forest, with no paths leading to it, the soldiers had stumbled across a small stone cottage. At first they had assumed the home was unoccupied, but as they came around to the front, they saw that curtains hung in the windows. The berry bushes to the left and right of the front door were trimmed and a narrow path ran around to the back.
Curious to learn who might be living in such isolation, the soldiers stepped up to the door to knock. Just as one soldier had his hand poised, both of them were blasted back, stumbling, into the yard by an impressive blast of defensive energy.
"Stay clear, Varr pigs!" a voice screamed from within.
The soldiers were dumbfounded. Inside the house was someone who had enough power to create shields but was afraid of the Varrs -- who no longer held any power! Obviously they were dealing with an unusual situation. Hence they had summoned Ashmael.
Personally Swift wasn't terribly interested in what they might find inside the cottage -- until he saw it, a lone stone cottage stood in a small field. He remembered the old human children's tale of the little boy and girl who had ventured into the forest. Was this the witch's house? It was quite ordinary, yet at the same time, there hung about it an aura of mystery, something that tempted the imagination into conjuring all manner of strange and secret affairs taking place within its walls.
Following Ashmael's lead, Swift and Seel rode their horses to the rear yard. As they passed close to the side of the house, Seel, slightly ahead, Swift felt a wave of menace crashed across him. He shivered and avoided turning his head. Who or what were they going to be facing?
The Gelaming soldiers rose from where they'd been seated in the shade of a giant oak. Brushing themselves off, they sauntered over towards the horses.
"Has there been any change?" Ashmael asked, dismounting and taking a stance, hands on hips, facing the back of the house.
"No change, Lord Ashmael," the taller of the two hara reported. "However, we have received several additional jolts and admonitions to leave."
"It's most disconcerting," the second har added. "Whoever is inside is very angry."
"Angry?" Seel questioned, by now off his horse, standing beside Ashmael. "It can hardly be a Gelaming then. In fact, I wonder if it is not a human."
"Seel, you fool yourself -- when will you ever learn?" Swift stepped two paces towards the house before stopping and turning. "Gelaming have emotions -- anger included -- _especially_ when provoked!"
"Ah, Swift, forever keeper of the Varr flame!" Ashmael chided.
"Don't say that!" Swift shot back hotly. It had only been a few months since he had adopted the customs of the Gelaming, shedding his Varr skin, and yet the name of his tribe was forever being hung over his head. He returned his gaze to the house. "What now?"
"Now we go in," Ashmael said simply, starting to walk across the field. "Ilga, Troniel, wait here with our horses."
"But what about the blasts?" Swift asked, feeling apprehensive after what he'd felt a few minutes earlier but following along nonetheless. True, the blasts were only strong Wraeththu thought magic, but unlike the others, Swift hadn't had years to grow completely accustomed to such phenomena. As a child, practically the only magic he had witnessed had been Cobweb's. No matter the education he had received during his caste training in Imbrilim, he still felt somewhat intimidated by such forces.
Ashmael laughed. "What about them? Do you really think they can keep _us_ out? We three are powerful and unless the angry one inside is Nari-Nuri, _our_ magic will be able to overcome _his_."
Swift gave Seel a searching look but received only a nod in response. He would have to trust in their judgement.
As they once again passed by the house, Swift her Seel softly gasp.
"Do you feel it?" he asked, taking Seel's hand and squeezing it.
"Yes," Seel said. "It's not anger now. It's _fear_."
The three of them crowded around the small wooden front door.
As soon as Ashmael reached for the handle, they were hit with a violent, invisible force. It wanted to fling them backwards, away into the yard. They resisted and returned with their own power, pushing back the shield until Ashmael had the door handle in his hand. He turned it. The door was locked.
"Out of the way, you two!" Ashmael urged sharply. Here was the military commander taking charge. Seel and Swift stepped to the side as Ashmael delivered a swift, ferocious kick to the door.
"We're sorry you're not up for guests at the moment," Ashmael shouted as delivered another blow, "but we really need to meet our new neighbor!" The door cracked in half.
A moment later, Ashmael had thrust himself half-way through the door and was apparently struggling with the strong arms and legs of the defender. Finally Ashmael beat the figure back.
Moving in with Swift, Seel took the remainder of the door and ripped it away.
There, inside the tiny cottage, stood a har with a look on his face that was absolutely heartrending: defeat. He was tall with wide-set eyes, a soft gray blue, and thick, dreadlocked brown hair.
"You broke through my shields," he said simply, bewildered as he stared down at where Ashmael held him fast by the arm.
"You are strong," Ashmael said, "but not _that_ strong. We three are all Ulani, Gelaming."
"_Gelaming?!_" the mystery figure gasped.
"Yes," Seel confirmed. "What did you _think_ we were -- _Varrs_?"
The har nodded nervously and then slowly, tentatively smiled. "This is it then," he announced, his voice full of wonder, the fear vanishing.
Ashmael released his grip and the har took his hand and ran it across the side of his head, pushing aside the strands of hair that were escaping from the top. "I... I have been waiting so long, years and years," he explained in a soft voice. "I knew you would be the ones to free me and I even wanted to meet you, but I had to hide. Now I can finally come out."
He bowed his head slightly for the sake of courtesy. "I am Tarra," he said simply, extending a hand.
All three Gelaming took the hand and clasped it firmly. Tarra was shaking but obviously greatly relieved that he was -- apparently -- not about to meet his death.
"So," Ashmael began. "What made you take to this life of solitude? Were you simply trying to escape the Varrs?"
Tarra nodded uncertainly. Ashmael continued. "I can understand that. The Varrs are gone now, by the way, and we are here only to talk with you, help you, not to harm you. Still, whiel wresting with you I had a strongest sense that you were protecting something within this house, not only yourself but--"
"Dad?" a voice called suddenly, cutting off Ashmael's line of questioning. All eyes turned to a curtained off area in the corner of the main room. "Can I come out now -- since they're not Varrs?"
Tarra's face had frozen and he stared at the three Gelaming before lowering his gaze to the floor. "Yes, Ranat," he said quietly. "Come out to meet our visitors."
After a moment the curtains parted and there emerged a young, blond-haired figure who looked almost exactly like Tarra in the face. Swift knew immediately that Ranat was human.
TBC...
Those of you who've read Storm Constantine's Wraeththu trilogy will be thrilled to learn that about a dozen years after its publication, there is a wonderfully rich body of fanfic cropping up -- with Storm's encouragement.
This is a Wraeththu story of mine I've already shared within the Wraeththu fan fic community. The storyline is set a few months after the conclusion of Bewitchments and stars, among others, Swift.
DISCLAIMERS & NOTES
Although the characters are all original, this story is set in a world created by Storm Constantine. I make no profit from the writing of this story.
For background on Wraeththu, see the Wraeththu Companion (http://www.ultrago.com/wraeththu/). For fanfic, see Forever (http://www.angelfire.com/ca6/forever/), for the community see the Wraeththu Yahoo! group (http://groups.yahoo.com/group/wraeththu), and for Storm's site see http://www.stormconstantine.com (what else?).
Obligations
by Wiebke Fesch
Oct. 2001
-----Part 1-----
The forest was dense and shrouded in darkness. Somewhere high above, over the tree tops, the sun shone brightly. Swift squinted into the shadows ahead, looking for a path. Only by following Ashmael, on horseback ahead, could he be sure of his next step.
He glanced over to Seel, mounted on the horse beside him. Before he could even form a question, Seel nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. He knows where we're going."
Swift returned his attentions to following the invisible path. An hour earlier he and Seel had been speaking to Ashmael as part of a visit to Fogta, a former Varr outpost, when Ashmael had received an urgent summons via mind message. Two of his soldiers, on a mission to explore the surrounding land, had encountered a situation with which they needed guidance and, just in case, backup support.
In the heart of the forest, with no paths leading to it, the soldiers had stumbled across a small stone cottage. At first they had assumed the home was unoccupied, but as they came around to the front, they saw that curtains hung in the windows. The berry bushes to the left and right of the front door were trimmed and a narrow path ran around to the back.
Curious to learn who might be living in such isolation, the soldiers stepped up to the door to knock. Just as one soldier had his hand poised, both of them were blasted back, stumbling, into the yard by an impressive blast of defensive energy.
"Stay clear, Varr pigs!" a voice screamed from within.
The soldiers were dumbfounded. Inside the house was someone who had enough power to create shields but was afraid of the Varrs -- who no longer held any power! Obviously they were dealing with an unusual situation. Hence they had summoned Ashmael.
Personally Swift wasn't terribly interested in what they might find inside the cottage -- until he saw it, a lone stone cottage stood in a small field. He remembered the old human children's tale of the little boy and girl who had ventured into the forest. Was this the witch's house? It was quite ordinary, yet at the same time, there hung about it an aura of mystery, something that tempted the imagination into conjuring all manner of strange and secret affairs taking place within its walls.
Following Ashmael's lead, Swift and Seel rode their horses to the rear yard. As they passed close to the side of the house, Seel, slightly ahead, Swift felt a wave of menace crashed across him. He shivered and avoided turning his head. Who or what were they going to be facing?
The Gelaming soldiers rose from where they'd been seated in the shade of a giant oak. Brushing themselves off, they sauntered over towards the horses.
"Has there been any change?" Ashmael asked, dismounting and taking a stance, hands on hips, facing the back of the house.
"No change, Lord Ashmael," the taller of the two hara reported. "However, we have received several additional jolts and admonitions to leave."
"It's most disconcerting," the second har added. "Whoever is inside is very angry."
"Angry?" Seel questioned, by now off his horse, standing beside Ashmael. "It can hardly be a Gelaming then. In fact, I wonder if it is not a human."
"Seel, you fool yourself -- when will you ever learn?" Swift stepped two paces towards the house before stopping and turning. "Gelaming have emotions -- anger included -- _especially_ when provoked!"
"Ah, Swift, forever keeper of the Varr flame!" Ashmael chided.
"Don't say that!" Swift shot back hotly. It had only been a few months since he had adopted the customs of the Gelaming, shedding his Varr skin, and yet the name of his tribe was forever being hung over his head. He returned his gaze to the house. "What now?"
"Now we go in," Ashmael said simply, starting to walk across the field. "Ilga, Troniel, wait here with our horses."
"But what about the blasts?" Swift asked, feeling apprehensive after what he'd felt a few minutes earlier but following along nonetheless. True, the blasts were only strong Wraeththu thought magic, but unlike the others, Swift hadn't had years to grow completely accustomed to such phenomena. As a child, practically the only magic he had witnessed had been Cobweb's. No matter the education he had received during his caste training in Imbrilim, he still felt somewhat intimidated by such forces.
Ashmael laughed. "What about them? Do you really think they can keep _us_ out? We three are powerful and unless the angry one inside is Nari-Nuri, _our_ magic will be able to overcome _his_."
Swift gave Seel a searching look but received only a nod in response. He would have to trust in their judgement.
As they once again passed by the house, Swift her Seel softly gasp.
"Do you feel it?" he asked, taking Seel's hand and squeezing it.
"Yes," Seel said. "It's not anger now. It's _fear_."
The three of them crowded around the small wooden front door.
As soon as Ashmael reached for the handle, they were hit with a violent, invisible force. It wanted to fling them backwards, away into the yard. They resisted and returned with their own power, pushing back the shield until Ashmael had the door handle in his hand. He turned it. The door was locked.
"Out of the way, you two!" Ashmael urged sharply. Here was the military commander taking charge. Seel and Swift stepped to the side as Ashmael delivered a swift, ferocious kick to the door.
"We're sorry you're not up for guests at the moment," Ashmael shouted as delivered another blow, "but we really need to meet our new neighbor!" The door cracked in half.
A moment later, Ashmael had thrust himself half-way through the door and was apparently struggling with the strong arms and legs of the defender. Finally Ashmael beat the figure back.
Moving in with Swift, Seel took the remainder of the door and ripped it away.
There, inside the tiny cottage, stood a har with a look on his face that was absolutely heartrending: defeat. He was tall with wide-set eyes, a soft gray blue, and thick, dreadlocked brown hair.
"You broke through my shields," he said simply, bewildered as he stared down at where Ashmael held him fast by the arm.
"You are strong," Ashmael said, "but not _that_ strong. We three are all Ulani, Gelaming."
"_Gelaming?!_" the mystery figure gasped.
"Yes," Seel confirmed. "What did you _think_ we were -- _Varrs_?"
The har nodded nervously and then slowly, tentatively smiled. "This is it then," he announced, his voice full of wonder, the fear vanishing.
Ashmael released his grip and the har took his hand and ran it across the side of his head, pushing aside the strands of hair that were escaping from the top. "I... I have been waiting so long, years and years," he explained in a soft voice. "I knew you would be the ones to free me and I even wanted to meet you, but I had to hide. Now I can finally come out."
He bowed his head slightly for the sake of courtesy. "I am Tarra," he said simply, extending a hand.
All three Gelaming took the hand and clasped it firmly. Tarra was shaking but obviously greatly relieved that he was -- apparently -- not about to meet his death.
"So," Ashmael began. "What made you take to this life of solitude? Were you simply trying to escape the Varrs?"
Tarra nodded uncertainly. Ashmael continued. "I can understand that. The Varrs are gone now, by the way, and we are here only to talk with you, help you, not to harm you. Still, whiel wresting with you I had a strongest sense that you were protecting something within this house, not only yourself but--"
"Dad?" a voice called suddenly, cutting off Ashmael's line of questioning. All eyes turned to a curtained off area in the corner of the main room. "Can I come out now -- since they're not Varrs?"
Tarra's face had frozen and he stared at the three Gelaming before lowering his gaze to the floor. "Yes, Ranat," he said quietly. "Come out to meet our visitors."
After a moment the curtains parted and there emerged a young, blond-haired figure who looked almost exactly like Tarra in the face. Swift knew immediately that Ranat was human.
TBC...
