Chapter 15
------------
Notes: There are several.
Listen, Bullfrog is a really cool bunch of people, and I'm sure they don't mind the extra advertising that I'm giving them in the writing of this fic. ::looks hopeful:: They own Dungeon Keeper and I, sadly, do not.
I'm a weird monkey who really likes the idea of two guys together in a relationship. It's my story, and I can put slash in it if I want to. So there. ::sticks out tongue:: Consider yourself warned and stuff.
If you haven't yet, read the first chapter now.
For a glossary of terms and concepts, as well as a map of this Realm, go to this address: http://dragonnest.freeservers.com/fics/dungeonviewshelp.html
Even though the game is not mine, the story (including many original concepts in it) is, and I would appreciate it if you did not use it without my permission. Ask and ye shall probably be allowed to archive.
As always, I'd like to thank my wonderful beta reader, Vagabond.
Pronunciation Key:
Kaelay: [KAY-lay]
Seiat: [SAY-aht]
Tarkasas: [Tar-KAH-sas]
Ramasha: [Ra-MAH-sha]
Mortagui: [Mor-tah-GUY]
Evain: [Eh-VAIN]
Jensor: [ZHEN-soar] (Note: "zh" is pronounced like the "si" in lesion)
Tukash: [TOO-kash]
I think that's all, so on with the fic!
---------------
Kaelay
This is puzzling. Ramasha seemed quite sure that there was no reason for Mortagui to contact anyone. So what was that sending that Evain informed me of? Is it possible that there may have been someone that the Angel did not know about? It seems unlikely; he was so absolutely certain.
There is always the possibility that Evain is lying to me. But if he were trying to betray me, then I do not think that he would go about it this way. After all, information like this, whether true or false, only makes me more vigilant. Evain is too good a tactician not to know that. So ruling that out, what could it be? Could there be someone else that Mortagui would be sending a message to? But who...?
There is a summoning at my Heart. I will ponder this later.
I speed towards the center of my dungeon, hoping that... yes! It is Tarkasas, coming to report to me as I ordered.
He bows respectfully. "I have done as you asked, Mistress," he says. Good.
How did you fare?, I question. I hope that he learned something useful. For both our sakes.
"Very well." He looks rather pleased with himself. "In fact, I managed to stumble across the local gossip-monger of Evain's Dungeon. Her name is Seeleth, a Troll. She was very informative."
My Gods, is he trying to tease me? I'll have none of this.
No games, Knight. Tell me exactly what you learned and spare me the story.
He looks properly chastised and gets to the point. "She told me that Evain has traced many such messages before, and that there is no logical reason why he shouldn't be able to find out the energy signature of this one. Although he did apparently tell his creatures that he didn't know."
Oh no. Damn! Attacking me when his own Darkness is my ally is foolish, but Keepers have been known to do worse to gain power. If he were to betray me, it would be much worse than Mortagui. Evain is no fool.
Are you absolutely certain, Tarkasas? I ask. He nods.
"She seemed to think it rather suspicious, my Lady."
Triple damn. Thank you Tarkasas. You are dismissed. Please continue this duty.
He looks startled at first, but he bows and leaves. Perhaps I should not do what I am planning. I should really not tip my hand, it is not wise. But somehow...
I'm going to see Evain. I should be subtle with this new knowledge, but what's the point? The longer I wait, the more likely it is that I will get caught in confrontation with Evain and Mortagui at the same time.
I quickly assume my astral form, and send a message to Evain via an energy signal similar to that sent by Mortagui. Might as well use dramatic irony to the best of my advantage.
He arrives near me shortly, looking surprised and a bit harried. Yes? he asks curiously. He's so calm. How can he be so damn calm?
I step forward and slap him across the face with my clawed hand. It doesn't hurt him much, but I think it gets my point across. He looks quite stunned.
You've done traces many times before, on even more difficult messages! I accuse. I'm guessing on this last bit, but his guilty look makes me think that I hit the mark. So why is it that suddenly you are incapable of finding even the smallest clue as to what this may be? I find it hard to believe that your competence just suddenly left you.
He stares at me, blood trickling slowly from a cut that I made in his cheek. For a brief moment I am sure that he will revert to the snivelling coward that he used to be, but he stiffens his spine and looks me straight in the eye.
I understand your anger, Lady Kaelay. He is unusually formal. I assure you, however, that it is unwarranted. You know as well as I that Mortagui is a master spellsmith. Better probably than you or I. His sending was so well encoded and went by at such hyper speeds that it is a wonder I noticed it at all. It was impossible for me to make any kind of an energy imprint to work from. So no, I do not know who the message was aimed for. But for the intricacies of the spells and the direction it came from, I wouldn't even know that it was sent by Mortagui.
A very neat story. Just believable enough. Perhaps he is telling the truth? There is no way to be sure. I wish I could trust your word Evain, I say, but I have been having a little trouble with allies lately. Trust that I have not overlooked the fact that you lied about having experience with Trace Spells. You'll forgive me if I keep a closer eye on you.
He bows submissively, but I can see a flare of anger in his eyes. Yes, Lady Kaelay, he says quietly.
I depart, leaving him standing there. I can only hope that my extra vigilance is unnecessary. Trouble with my allies is all I need on top of this mysterious message (if it exists) and the now-subsided turmoil in the Shadowlands. Not to mention the war with Mortagui. Oh yes, let's not forget about our dear old green friend.
Seiat
I am running on my fifth trip back from the gold seam. Work has relaxed me somewhat. The familiar weight of a pickaxe in my hand, the steady trips back and forth, all are monotonous and good for my peace of mind.
I realize suddenly how much I've gotten Involved. Imps don't normally meddle in the affair of the Bigger Creatures. It's probably because we don't normally have friends among them. Of course, I've always been a little weird for my species. My brothers and sisters don't understand how I can care about the well-being of one of the fighters. They don't understand because most of the warriors are mean to them. They don't understand how I can be worried about Tarkasas. He's my friend. Even more than that, he is one of Keeper's favorite creatures. When he is depressed, Keeper becomes angry. I do not want Keeper to be angry.
My brothers and sisters don't see far enough. They don't understand how Keeper's moods can be related to anything but how well they work. It is how they are built, I suppose. Any one of them has the potential to know these things, and yet none of them ever try to find out. They are all too content with their work. But I want to see things work out. I want things to be good.
I go carefully to the gold pile in the corner and empty my ore into it. The magic of the Treasury changes it instantly into something more worthwhile. Coins, for the most part. They clink prettily as they settle in beside a crown and a jewelled sceptre.
I happen to glance up as a Dragon walks through the door to the adjacent hatchery, and catch a glimpse of a familiar set of armor through the entrance.
Tarkasas!
I run quickly into the Hatchery to catch him before he leaves. He's looking ever-so-slightly dazed, but much better than he did the last time I saw him. Of course, the Angel is here now. Poor Tarkasas, for his moods to be so dependant on another.
I tap his leg (that's about as high up as I reach) and he looks down at me. When he recognizes me, he grins. A happy, friendly grin, and I'm so glad my old friend Tarkasas is back!
"Seiat!" he says genially, "shouldn't you be working?"
I nod rather sheepishly. I should, really. "I know, but I wanted to talk to you about something."
He raises an eyebrow. "Alright. Come on, we'll sit."
We walk out of the middle of the Hatchery, to the place where the dirt chicken floor meets the slightly higher tiling around it. We sit on the edge, and I ponder how to gracefully broach the subject.
"Tarkasas... I saw today that that Angel is here. In our Dungeon. The one you're in love with."
He looks surprised, but not angry as I was half-expecting him to be. "You know about that?" He makes no pretences at denying it.
I nod. "Keeper told me. And, I just wanted to say, well..." I frown. I need to say this in some way that Tarkasas won't be mad at me. He's in love with the Angel. I can't just insult Ramasha to his face. There must be some way of forcing him to be a little less involved with the Angel. Something that gives him enough room to start thinking straight again.
"I think you should take it slower with him," I say. I know that they moved into this relationship quickly. I mean after all, we made the alliance with Mortagui under a week ago. "Ramasha seems timid, not ready for such a strong relationship. If you move too fast, I think you'll frighten him off."
He looks thoughtful, and a little sad. "You're probably right Seiat," he says eventually. "Ramasha shouldn't be pushed into something that he's not ready for. The Gods know he's been forced into enough already."
I don't know what he means by that, but I'm glad he agrees with me. The less he gets involved with Ramasha the less he'll miss him.
Tarkasas
I find Seiat's insight a little depressing, but wholly accurate. Ramasha is... not weak, but somehow broken. It is almost as if some part of him were missing.
Still, I am eager to see him again. I may have to take things a little slowly, but that does not change the fact that I long to see him, and I feel safe in indulging that little bit of longing.
I head towards the Lair. I am not quite certain that he will be there, but it is quite late and most creatures are by now.
When I enter, I glance towards his lair, disappointed when I do not see him there. I sigh and let my gaze wander about the room. It comes to rest on a suspiciously familiar back, in front of an equally familiar (and much more cheering) Angel.
Said back belongs to a certain Dungeon bully. Tukash is a Bile Demon, and not a pleasant one. Few are. He's a high level fighter (seventh, last time I saw him. When did he get to be eighth?) who has a nasty habit of picking on those that are lower level than he is. Unfortunately, he appears to have cornered Ramasha. The Angel is trapped between his arms, practically pinned against the wall.
I stride closer in time to hear him say in a low voice, "New creatures in the Dungeon must pay me a toll, pretty Angel. What do you have to pay me, hm?"
"Get away from me," Ramasha snarls. He is... sixth level, I believe, and probably outclassed, but he's certainly not intimidated. I imagine he's had to deal with worse.
"The pretty Angel wants me to get away," says Tukash. "Why do you want me to get away, pretty Angel?"
Ramasha rallies. "Not the brightest bulb in the box, are you? If you wouldn't mind leaving, I'd like to spare you some pain."
Tukash laughs. It's a nasty, deep, guttural sound that gives you the impression that whatever he's laughing at is causing someone else a lot of pain. "The pretty Angel thinks he can hurt me!" he guffaws.
"Just remember, I did warn you," says Ramasha. He puts his hands together, muttering, and a huge bright green flash erupts between them, scant inches from Tukash's eyes. Ramasha ducks under his arms, whirls around to stand right behind him, and draws his sword. He places the tip at the back of Tukash's neck.
Oh dear. I better stop this.
"Ramasha," I say, unable to keep the pleasure at seeing him take care of the bully out of my voice. "I don't think Mistress Kaelay would like it if you killed one of her higher level fighters."
His back stiffens at my voice, and he turns to look at me. I notice that he does not take the sword away from the frightened Bile Demon's neck.
He fixes me with a look that is half stern, half pouting. Only he could pull it off. "I would feel justified," he says.
I smile. "You would be, but there's no sense in making Kaelay angry right now. She has a lot on her plate."
"Hm." Ramasha doesn't look as though he agrees, but nevertheless he sheathes his sword and walks toward me, apparently losing all interest in Tukash. The Bile Demon, I note pleasantly, has blanched to a pale pinkish color, and sunk to the floor. Good. That should teach him to mess with Ramasha.
I stop paying attention to Tukash in favor of Ramasha, who has just about reached my side. I grin at him. "Come on," I say, indicating the direction of our beds, "it's late. We should probably get some sleep."
He nods amiably, and we walk over to the beds, each sitting on our own. "What did you do all day?" I question him.
Ramasha adjusts the pillows so that they are cushioning his back, and generally makes himself comfortable. "Well, I know where everything is now. And I've begun my duties at the Temple. Lady Kaelay's Dungeon is impressive. I never realized how bad off things were with Mortagui."
"That's good," I say. "I'm glad you're adjusting. Make any new friends?" I grin.
"What, you mean besides that friendly fellow over there?" Ramasha indicates Tukash, who is still slumped by the wall. For Overworld's sake! Ramasha didn't even hurt him! The Angel rolls his eyes. "Yes, in fact. The Angels at the Temple were very pleasant to me. In fact, almost everyone in this Dungeon is somehow... different. Nicer." His face momentarily darkens. "Except the Imps, of course."
I shrug. "Well, Imps are the same no matter whose Dungeon you're in."
"What about you?" he asks. "Where did you spend your day? I didn't see you at all when I was touring the dungeon."
I sigh. "Well, I've been designated... not-quite-spy of Evain." At his blank look, I hurry to explain. "He's the second-in-command of the Red Darkness, and has built a dungeon next to ours in this Realm." Ramasha nods his understanding, and I continue. "Kaelay decided he needed to be... watched. Just to make sure that he keeps things in order."
He smirks slightly, I'm not quite sure at what, and leans back on his bed.
"Ramasha..." I begin. Don't push, I remind myself. But surely one little question won't hurt?
He looks over at me. "Yes?"
"Why... why was it that you left Mortagui's Dungeon? I mean, what made you finally change your mind?"
Ramasha looks down at his bed. He's uncomfortable, I can tell, but he tells me anyway. "He... he wanted me to sleep with him again. Normally that wouldn't really phase me much, but I was so tired, and drained. Upset about you. And when he took me there, to that room, he got some sort of summons to the Heart. And I lay there, thinking, 'what in all the Underrealms am I doing? I'm waiting here for a Keeper that I hate to come and rape me, and yet I have another choice. Why shouldn't I take it?"
He shrugs. "And then you showed up, with impeccable timing, I might add, and it all sort of fell into place."
Great. Just vague enough to keep me still hoping.
"You don't regret it?" I ask.
Ramasha looks away from me quickly, but not before I catch the glimmer of tears in his eyes. His voice is steady when he replies. Perhaps a bit too steady. "I've had several moments. I don't regret abandoning him-" there is no doubt of the him of which he speaks "-but I worry that someone else might be left to take my place. Have... have I doomed someone I know to the same fate?"
It hurts me to see him so worried, so in pain, and I reach out a comforting hand to place on his arm, but he flinches away. Remembering Seiat's advice, I pull back and don't try again. "I'm sure it's fine. He's probably too caught up in war preparations to do anything like that at the moment, and soon he will be dead. We will defeat him, and you will never have to worry about it again."
"Yes," Ramasha practically hisses. He has a particular glint in his eyes that scares me. Such hate...
We sit a short moment in silence, but I can tell that something is bothering him. I wait. If he wants to tell me, he will.
"Tarkasas..." he says eventually.
"Yes?"
"N-nothing. Never mind. I'm going to sleep." And with that he pulls his legs up onto the bed, turns over, and proceeds to do just that.
Ramasha
Too embarrassed. Too embarrassed and too afraid of what that Imp told me to ask Tarkasas if he would hold me through the night. Too afraid. Afraid that maybe he wouldn't want to.
I didn't mean to flinch from his touch, but I cannot get the words of that Imp out of my head. I do not wish to soil Tarkasas. I can't taint him with what I am.
But it hurts. Gods, it hurts me so much to try and stay away from him.
I am not asleep in my bed, simply turned away from him. I listen, and after a moment I hear the rustling of sheets that means he has gotten into bed. Slowly his breathing evens out into the evenness of sleep.
The entire Lair is settling down for the night, barring those few who are nocturnal. Or choose to be. Since there is no natural light reaching down here, one pretty much gets their choice of whether they would rather be active by day or by night. Although the torchlight in the Lair does dim by night.
I briefly contemplate slipping out of bed and padding down the hallways barefoot, but where would I go? In my former Dungeon, I would have gone outside the walls and sat by the river. I could do that now, I suppose. I think I remember where the dungeon lets out, but I decide against it. I would only brood anyway, and that won't do me any good.
Instead I simply turn over slowly and stare at the ceiling. What in the Underrealms am I going to do? I want to be with Tarkasas. I want that more than anything. But is my happiness worth dirtying him? Worth infecting him with my weakness?
Seemingly summoned by thoughts of weakness, I can once again feel the tears pricking at my eyelids. Why must I be so constantly weak? I was strong once, wasn't I?
That thought seems somehow strange. I have never really been strong. Maybe I was not as weak when I first came from the Shadowrealm as I am now, but I was never really strong. Mortagui saw to that.
Then why do I miss it? Why do I feel as though there is some part of me that used to be strong, but was torn away too long ago to remember?
I shudder slightly beneath my blankets. Mortagui. All of this is his fault. I will be glad to see him dead. Something that horrible should not be allowed to live.
I find myself wondering what it is that makes Kaelay so different from Mortagui. Certainly she is a Keeper like any other, cable of being as mean or as ruthless as any of them. And yet... she is pure in the same way that Tarkasas is. She will do anything for victory, but is not... cruel. She is strong, but imminently reasonable. One thing which Mortagui is most definitely not.
Yes. I made the right choice in coming here.
So why is it that I still doubt myself?
Oh God, that was hideous. Take me back.
or
Oh God, that was hideous. Let me complain to the author.