Ashes by Stelmarta
True to my word, here is Chapter 11! I should be able to update next Saturday, but I can't make any promises at the moment. I'm dedicating this chapter to myself, because not only did I do a damn good job on my exams this past week, but I wrote this chapter, an essay, posted another fic, and managed to keep my sanity. :-b
By the way, "Rhys" is pronounced "Reece". Don't ask me, it's a Welsh name.
PART XI – The Plan
The dawn crept slowly into the cell in the dungeon of the Temple of Dust, the morning sun shining through the barred windows onto the wall. Laesha awoke slowly. She imagined that the striped shadows were cross-hatched like the window in her room back home, and that she was in a soft bed with clean linen sheets and feather pillows. The illusion didn't last for long; and soon the reality of the cold dirt floor beneath her brought her to full, and grumpy consciousness. Owl was sound asleep for once. In sleep he looked incapable of making those cutting remarks, and it was difficult for her to stay irritated for long.
Laesha's pendant had crept out from under her shirt during the night. She fingered the cold stone, now strangely smooth. It occurred to her suddenly that she hadn't changed shape at all in the past week. She frowned in puzzlement; she had never gone more than three days without changing in her life. Something must have happened.
Her eyes widened in realization. In the Temple! Brayan had taken the pendant and…. healed it. And said that it was the cause of her problems.
"Well, that makes sense," Laesha said aloud, surprised to find that it did. The fracture in the stone had had something to do with not being able to control her powers. It was so simple that she felt rather stupid for not realizing it earlier.
But could she control her powers now?
The question echoed in her mind, reverberating in every fiber of her being. The desire to know was overpowering, she had to know if she would ever again wake up with hooves, or horns, or a beak. She wanted to know what color her eyes really were.
She squeezed shut her eyes, and forced her awareness down to her fingertips, demanding claws of her mercurial form. She gritted her teeth, held her breath and focused her consciousness to a pinpoint. But maddeningly, frustratingly, infuriatingly, nothing happened.
She was deeply troubled by her failure. How had she done it in the Temple? She couldn't remember but she doubted that it would work anyway. The world was out to get her, after all.
But Laesha, being the stubborn girl she was, would not let it go. So, just to be contrary, she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, clearing her mind and letting the consciousness she had so recently been exhausting flow quietly to all her pores. If it worked in making claws go away, it might work in making them come back.
Once she felt she was sufficiently relaxed, she slowly crept up on the idea, whispering her desire. There was a slight shiver as the message was passed on silently through every atom.
She felt the strangest pulling sensation at her fingernails and slowly, very slowly, there appeared delicately hooked claws. Once it had stopped, she cautiously opened her eyes, triumph setting in as quietly as the claws had. Laesha cheered aloud; regardless that Owl was asleep, that she was in enemy hands, and that there were guards outside.
"I did it Owl! I did it!" she shrieked, shaking him. He blinked blearily, and rubbed his eyes.
"What?" he asked, squinting at her.
"I can control the changes! I did it!"
"That's all? Why'd you wake me up?" he said, and went back to sleep. Laesha was too happy to care.
~*~
By the time Rhys arrived several hours later, Laesha had successfully made her claws disappear and come back several times, her elation dying down to a bubbly contentment as the sun traveled higher in the sky. She had told Owl again, once he had properly woken up and was more receptive.
"Good morning, Rhys!" she greeted with a huge smile as he came in with their plates of gruel for the morning.
He was happily surprised to see that she was in such a friendly mood, and readily returned her smile.
"Hello, Laesha! Nice to see you so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed," he said, giving them each their breakfasts.
"Oh, but I'm happy because I'm not!"
He shot a worried look to Owl, "Is she alright?"
Owl, true to his part, growled at him.
"I'm fine, really, just in a very, very, very good mood. So, how are you this morning?" she asked, ready to start putting her plan into motion.
"Doing well. One of the other guards got the graveyard shift last night instead of me, which was a treat," he smiled, but not with his usual huge, teeth-bearing grin, but just a slight curve at the corner of his mouth, as if knew something they didn't.
Laesha didn't notice this, but Owl did. He stopped glaring at the guard's back, and went on the alert.
"Yeah, I was just wondering," began Laesha trying her hardest to keep her speech smooth and casual as possible, "What brought you to the Order?" she was failing, miserably, and all three of them knew it. Owl reached slowly to his belt for the knife that wasn't there.
To their immense, and joyous surprise, Rhys laughed. "Don't worry, I heard you two conspiring last night," he said, voice lowered, "And I'd be more than happy to help,"
"You would?" burst out Owl, "But—"
"I'm not in the Order because I worship Dust," he cut in with that slight smile again, "I'm here on my own little quest for revenge. But unlike you, Owl, I've decided to bring the Order down from the inside. You see, two years ago, after the War ended, the remaining Zaibach soldiers and refugees dispersed peacefully among the few welcoming places left on Gaea. All but for Cayn and a few others, who refused to accept that the Empire was dead and decided to kill a lot of people on their way out of the west. Cayn began by striking down a runaway, a young woman named Shular. I found her by the side of the road the next morning, Cayn's name carved into her flesh. She was a great friend to me, and it broke my heart to see her like that.
"There is a tradition among my people in Daedalus: when a relative has been killed without a cause, we call a blood feud upon their murderer. After we have killed them," he smiled again, now with a hint of bloodthirstiness, "We return to our homes, and the feud is fulfilled. Because Shular had no relatives able, I went after Cayn. When I finally tracked him down, he had set this cult in motion, and once I saw what it had done already, in the short time that it had been in existence, I decided that I would destroy the Order as well as it's leader."
He gave them each a long look, "I have been waiting for a while now for the perfect opportunity to strike, and you're arrival, and that of Ashes, provides it."
"But how can you stand it? Being here," asked Owl, voice choked, "How can you remember your friend and not strike down Cayn once and for all?"
Rhys cast a look over his shoulder at Owl, a look more sorrowful than even he had managed to muster, "I remember Shular, and I stop myself. She was the gentlest creature ever to grace Gaea. That is why the end of this feud will be sorrowful, because I will think of how she would have reproached me for becoming what Cayn already is. It is her hand that stays mine from a killing blow."
Something in these words struck a chord in Owl. He was silent, and very pale.
Rhys turned to Laesha, "I will gladly help you in any way that I can. Just give me your orders."
~*~
Rhys began speaking to the other prisoners about a revolt in the quiet of the evening, when he did his main guard shift. According to his information, there were ninety-four prisoners in the dungeons, all of who were eager to get revenge. Only eighty-nine, however, would be able to lift a sword. There were only about fifty of the Order, but they had weapons and were in good health.
Rhys began taking all night shifts, telling his commanders that he preferred to sleep through the unbearable heat that had set in. He spent all of it conferencing with Owl and Laesha. Together, the three of them began formulating a plan. On the morning of the eclipse, Rhys would let all the mutineers out of their cells and they would go to the main level of the Temple. From there, a company of seventy would immobilize the sentries, and ensure that the members of the Order would not be able to get out of their barracks. How this was to be done was not discussed, it was assumed that the prisoners would take matters into their own hands no matter what the orders were. The remainder would free Crow and capture Cayn. Laesha didn't dare inquire as to what would happen to Cayn once he was captured.
Now all that remained to be done was preparation; a job only Rhys could accomplish. Arranging convenient unlocked doors, gathering discarded weapons, finding the sentry lists, and a number of other vital tasks. He only stopped by now for a few minutes for meals, any more would have made an already suspicious habit more noticeable. All Owl and Laesha could do now was wait.
There were two more days until the revolt, and Laesha was getting worried about Owl. He had said very little since they began that hadn't pertained to the plan, and had taken to staring out the window for long periods.
He was in one of these episodes now. The moons were hovering just in their view from the cell, and were getting close to being full. Laesha got up from her corner and walked quietly over to the window, placing a hand on Owl's shoulder. He started at the touch, and stared at her for a short moment before turning away.
"What do you see up there, Owl?" she asked quietly, astounded at the depth of sorrow in his eyes.
"I can see them in the stars, my family. The entire village. They're still watching me," he answered, just barely above a whisper, "I tried to kill myself after they died. I went down to where my home had been and pulled a broken dagger out from the ashes, ready to slit my wrists and join the rest of my kind. But I couldn't do it. I saw my mother's face reflected in that rusty blade, remorseful, reproving. She saved me during the attack; she locked me in the root cellar when she heard the Order coming. There was only room enough for one, and not enough time for escape.
"She was so gentle," a tear was snaking its way down his cheek. Now his words were coming faster, but they were still quiet, "Her hands moved like feathers, gently brushing my hair out of my face, or the dirt from my clothing. We had so many animals in the house, because she couldn't bring herself to turn her back on any living thing. Squirrels, foxes, cats, dogs, birds. Father hated it, but he loved mother, and for her, lived with them all with a smile on his face. Jay wasn't any help to father, either. As soon as he could walk he started bringing home pets like mother. He thought father liked it. Kestrel would always turn her nose up at them, but as soon as no one was looking she would be spoiling them all rotten. All of the them died in the attack, when the longhouses were set on fire. My mother couldn't protect them any more.
"I couldn't stop myself from remembering them, and couldn't bring the steel to my wrists. So I decided not to kill myself quickly, but slowly instead, by filling my heart with hatred and revenge, and shoving away the memories of love and warmth. I thought that once I had done that I could finally die without mother, and father, and Jay, and Kestrel, and everyone else staring back at me, begging me not to let their memories disappear. But they almost did. I now I wish I could." He let out a long breath; finally letting those memories out had lifted a heavy burden from his shoulders. He let out a long breath, as if finally unshouldering a heavy burden.
Laesha couldn't find words to comfort him, but somehow, she felt that they weren't needed.
She gathered Owl in her arms and let him cry into her shoulder until they both fell asleep as the sun came up the next morning.
~*~
They were still sleeping, leaning against each other, when Rhys barreled his way in the next morning. He shook them awake, frantic about something.
Owl woke up quickly, "What's wrong?" he asked, sensing his urgency.
"I'm not entirely sure," Rhys was drawn and white, "But I think Cayn found out,"
"What?" exclaimed Laesha, suddenly very alert.
"I don't know," he wailed, "He wants to see me in a few minutes, which is bad, because he never talks to guards unless they've done something terribly wrong!"
"Calm down," said Laesha, "It could be for something else, you never know."
"I dunno," he was getting hysterical, "I'm getting a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I'm going to fail. And failure in this game…."
Owl leveled him with a look that froze the guard in his trembling, "Think of Shular, she wouldn't want you to fear Cayn. She would want you to stand up tall before him and make him fear you."
Rhys looked down at his feet for a moment, "You're right, Owl. Everything is for her. I may not come back," his voice was steady now, "But the plan will continue, do you understand?" he turned to Owl, "And get one in for me 'n Shular, would you?"
He then proceeded to tell them in detail all the things they needed to know, where the weapons were, which sentries to take out first, which cells the prisoners were in, and where the keys could be found. Then he left, giving them both one last smile, almost, but not quite, devoid of sadness.
That was the last they saw of him.
True to my word, here is Chapter 11! I should be able to update next Saturday, but I can't make any promises at the moment. I'm dedicating this chapter to myself, because not only did I do a damn good job on my exams this past week, but I wrote this chapter, an essay, posted another fic, and managed to keep my sanity. :-b
By the way, "Rhys" is pronounced "Reece". Don't ask me, it's a Welsh name.
PART XI – The Plan
The dawn crept slowly into the cell in the dungeon of the Temple of Dust, the morning sun shining through the barred windows onto the wall. Laesha awoke slowly. She imagined that the striped shadows were cross-hatched like the window in her room back home, and that she was in a soft bed with clean linen sheets and feather pillows. The illusion didn't last for long; and soon the reality of the cold dirt floor beneath her brought her to full, and grumpy consciousness. Owl was sound asleep for once. In sleep he looked incapable of making those cutting remarks, and it was difficult for her to stay irritated for long.
Laesha's pendant had crept out from under her shirt during the night. She fingered the cold stone, now strangely smooth. It occurred to her suddenly that she hadn't changed shape at all in the past week. She frowned in puzzlement; she had never gone more than three days without changing in her life. Something must have happened.
Her eyes widened in realization. In the Temple! Brayan had taken the pendant and…. healed it. And said that it was the cause of her problems.
"Well, that makes sense," Laesha said aloud, surprised to find that it did. The fracture in the stone had had something to do with not being able to control her powers. It was so simple that she felt rather stupid for not realizing it earlier.
But could she control her powers now?
The question echoed in her mind, reverberating in every fiber of her being. The desire to know was overpowering, she had to know if she would ever again wake up with hooves, or horns, or a beak. She wanted to know what color her eyes really were.
She squeezed shut her eyes, and forced her awareness down to her fingertips, demanding claws of her mercurial form. She gritted her teeth, held her breath and focused her consciousness to a pinpoint. But maddeningly, frustratingly, infuriatingly, nothing happened.
She was deeply troubled by her failure. How had she done it in the Temple? She couldn't remember but she doubted that it would work anyway. The world was out to get her, after all.
But Laesha, being the stubborn girl she was, would not let it go. So, just to be contrary, she closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, clearing her mind and letting the consciousness she had so recently been exhausting flow quietly to all her pores. If it worked in making claws go away, it might work in making them come back.
Once she felt she was sufficiently relaxed, she slowly crept up on the idea, whispering her desire. There was a slight shiver as the message was passed on silently through every atom.
She felt the strangest pulling sensation at her fingernails and slowly, very slowly, there appeared delicately hooked claws. Once it had stopped, she cautiously opened her eyes, triumph setting in as quietly as the claws had. Laesha cheered aloud; regardless that Owl was asleep, that she was in enemy hands, and that there were guards outside.
"I did it Owl! I did it!" she shrieked, shaking him. He blinked blearily, and rubbed his eyes.
"What?" he asked, squinting at her.
"I can control the changes! I did it!"
"That's all? Why'd you wake me up?" he said, and went back to sleep. Laesha was too happy to care.
~*~
By the time Rhys arrived several hours later, Laesha had successfully made her claws disappear and come back several times, her elation dying down to a bubbly contentment as the sun traveled higher in the sky. She had told Owl again, once he had properly woken up and was more receptive.
"Good morning, Rhys!" she greeted with a huge smile as he came in with their plates of gruel for the morning.
He was happily surprised to see that she was in such a friendly mood, and readily returned her smile.
"Hello, Laesha! Nice to see you so bright-eyed and bushy-tailed," he said, giving them each their breakfasts.
"Oh, but I'm happy because I'm not!"
He shot a worried look to Owl, "Is she alright?"
Owl, true to his part, growled at him.
"I'm fine, really, just in a very, very, very good mood. So, how are you this morning?" she asked, ready to start putting her plan into motion.
"Doing well. One of the other guards got the graveyard shift last night instead of me, which was a treat," he smiled, but not with his usual huge, teeth-bearing grin, but just a slight curve at the corner of his mouth, as if knew something they didn't.
Laesha didn't notice this, but Owl did. He stopped glaring at the guard's back, and went on the alert.
"Yeah, I was just wondering," began Laesha trying her hardest to keep her speech smooth and casual as possible, "What brought you to the Order?" she was failing, miserably, and all three of them knew it. Owl reached slowly to his belt for the knife that wasn't there.
To their immense, and joyous surprise, Rhys laughed. "Don't worry, I heard you two conspiring last night," he said, voice lowered, "And I'd be more than happy to help,"
"You would?" burst out Owl, "But—"
"I'm not in the Order because I worship Dust," he cut in with that slight smile again, "I'm here on my own little quest for revenge. But unlike you, Owl, I've decided to bring the Order down from the inside. You see, two years ago, after the War ended, the remaining Zaibach soldiers and refugees dispersed peacefully among the few welcoming places left on Gaea. All but for Cayn and a few others, who refused to accept that the Empire was dead and decided to kill a lot of people on their way out of the west. Cayn began by striking down a runaway, a young woman named Shular. I found her by the side of the road the next morning, Cayn's name carved into her flesh. She was a great friend to me, and it broke my heart to see her like that.
"There is a tradition among my people in Daedalus: when a relative has been killed without a cause, we call a blood feud upon their murderer. After we have killed them," he smiled again, now with a hint of bloodthirstiness, "We return to our homes, and the feud is fulfilled. Because Shular had no relatives able, I went after Cayn. When I finally tracked him down, he had set this cult in motion, and once I saw what it had done already, in the short time that it had been in existence, I decided that I would destroy the Order as well as it's leader."
He gave them each a long look, "I have been waiting for a while now for the perfect opportunity to strike, and you're arrival, and that of Ashes, provides it."
"But how can you stand it? Being here," asked Owl, voice choked, "How can you remember your friend and not strike down Cayn once and for all?"
Rhys cast a look over his shoulder at Owl, a look more sorrowful than even he had managed to muster, "I remember Shular, and I stop myself. She was the gentlest creature ever to grace Gaea. That is why the end of this feud will be sorrowful, because I will think of how she would have reproached me for becoming what Cayn already is. It is her hand that stays mine from a killing blow."
Something in these words struck a chord in Owl. He was silent, and very pale.
Rhys turned to Laesha, "I will gladly help you in any way that I can. Just give me your orders."
~*~
Rhys began speaking to the other prisoners about a revolt in the quiet of the evening, when he did his main guard shift. According to his information, there were ninety-four prisoners in the dungeons, all of who were eager to get revenge. Only eighty-nine, however, would be able to lift a sword. There were only about fifty of the Order, but they had weapons and were in good health.
Rhys began taking all night shifts, telling his commanders that he preferred to sleep through the unbearable heat that had set in. He spent all of it conferencing with Owl and Laesha. Together, the three of them began formulating a plan. On the morning of the eclipse, Rhys would let all the mutineers out of their cells and they would go to the main level of the Temple. From there, a company of seventy would immobilize the sentries, and ensure that the members of the Order would not be able to get out of their barracks. How this was to be done was not discussed, it was assumed that the prisoners would take matters into their own hands no matter what the orders were. The remainder would free Crow and capture Cayn. Laesha didn't dare inquire as to what would happen to Cayn once he was captured.
Now all that remained to be done was preparation; a job only Rhys could accomplish. Arranging convenient unlocked doors, gathering discarded weapons, finding the sentry lists, and a number of other vital tasks. He only stopped by now for a few minutes for meals, any more would have made an already suspicious habit more noticeable. All Owl and Laesha could do now was wait.
There were two more days until the revolt, and Laesha was getting worried about Owl. He had said very little since they began that hadn't pertained to the plan, and had taken to staring out the window for long periods.
He was in one of these episodes now. The moons were hovering just in their view from the cell, and were getting close to being full. Laesha got up from her corner and walked quietly over to the window, placing a hand on Owl's shoulder. He started at the touch, and stared at her for a short moment before turning away.
"What do you see up there, Owl?" she asked quietly, astounded at the depth of sorrow in his eyes.
"I can see them in the stars, my family. The entire village. They're still watching me," he answered, just barely above a whisper, "I tried to kill myself after they died. I went down to where my home had been and pulled a broken dagger out from the ashes, ready to slit my wrists and join the rest of my kind. But I couldn't do it. I saw my mother's face reflected in that rusty blade, remorseful, reproving. She saved me during the attack; she locked me in the root cellar when she heard the Order coming. There was only room enough for one, and not enough time for escape.
"She was so gentle," a tear was snaking its way down his cheek. Now his words were coming faster, but they were still quiet, "Her hands moved like feathers, gently brushing my hair out of my face, or the dirt from my clothing. We had so many animals in the house, because she couldn't bring herself to turn her back on any living thing. Squirrels, foxes, cats, dogs, birds. Father hated it, but he loved mother, and for her, lived with them all with a smile on his face. Jay wasn't any help to father, either. As soon as he could walk he started bringing home pets like mother. He thought father liked it. Kestrel would always turn her nose up at them, but as soon as no one was looking she would be spoiling them all rotten. All of the them died in the attack, when the longhouses were set on fire. My mother couldn't protect them any more.
"I couldn't stop myself from remembering them, and couldn't bring the steel to my wrists. So I decided not to kill myself quickly, but slowly instead, by filling my heart with hatred and revenge, and shoving away the memories of love and warmth. I thought that once I had done that I could finally die without mother, and father, and Jay, and Kestrel, and everyone else staring back at me, begging me not to let their memories disappear. But they almost did. I now I wish I could." He let out a long breath; finally letting those memories out had lifted a heavy burden from his shoulders. He let out a long breath, as if finally unshouldering a heavy burden.
Laesha couldn't find words to comfort him, but somehow, she felt that they weren't needed.
She gathered Owl in her arms and let him cry into her shoulder until they both fell asleep as the sun came up the next morning.
~*~
They were still sleeping, leaning against each other, when Rhys barreled his way in the next morning. He shook them awake, frantic about something.
Owl woke up quickly, "What's wrong?" he asked, sensing his urgency.
"I'm not entirely sure," Rhys was drawn and white, "But I think Cayn found out,"
"What?" exclaimed Laesha, suddenly very alert.
"I don't know," he wailed, "He wants to see me in a few minutes, which is bad, because he never talks to guards unless they've done something terribly wrong!"
"Calm down," said Laesha, "It could be for something else, you never know."
"I dunno," he was getting hysterical, "I'm getting a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, like I'm going to fail. And failure in this game…."
Owl leveled him with a look that froze the guard in his trembling, "Think of Shular, she wouldn't want you to fear Cayn. She would want you to stand up tall before him and make him fear you."
Rhys looked down at his feet for a moment, "You're right, Owl. Everything is for her. I may not come back," his voice was steady now, "But the plan will continue, do you understand?" he turned to Owl, "And get one in for me 'n Shular, would you?"
He then proceeded to tell them in detail all the things they needed to know, where the weapons were, which sentries to take out first, which cells the prisoners were in, and where the keys could be found. Then he left, giving them both one last smile, almost, but not quite, devoid of sadness.
That was the last they saw of him.
