8BTFreek: Hooray! More reviews! Thanks, guys!
REVIEW RESPONSES:
tigerlily98: Don't worry, it's coming this chapter.
Mesoforte: Okay, so I happen to like Kay... What's wrong with that? Besides, Rhoen is not a carbon copy of myself. If I'd had his past, they'd have me as a ward of the state right now. And yes, the plot's coming-slowly... And don't think I couldn't handle Ivan... if Rand were here.
JokersSpecter: O_O I'm on your favorite stories list?! Woohoo! *dances around the room, half-insane* I'm okay. Trust me, though. Most of the stuff in the last chapter? Just background and plot devices.
Wolfy129: That's okay. As long as you read, it's fun, right? But thanks for reviewing anyway. It lifts my spirits.
Rallalon: Yup. Oh, and I envision him as more of a gentleman-more on that this chapter. But other than that... As for the whole Pi(ers/card) thing... "He's going to flip" doesn't begin to cover it. And please don't beat me up for using "Piers." It's just because I have the US version of the game, that's the only version I've played, and I have a preference for that name. It's just me.
END RESPONSES
Nynaeve: YES!!
Freek: Let me guess. You just beat Dullahan.
Nynaeve: No, I beat him while you were writing the last chapter.
Freek: Then why didn't you jump up and scream?
Nynaeve: I was too busy recuperating.
Freek: Ah. So it's the Doom Dragon, then?
Nynaeve: Yes. Anyway, we need someone to do the disclaimer. *Grabs Gannon* You'll do.
Gannon: *sigh* Freek doesn't own Golden Sun, but he does own Rhoen, the land of Q'tlataresh, the language of the people of the land of Q'tlataresh, and the idea of the land of Q'tlataresh, homeland of the Q'tiil. Now then, on with the writing, or I'll knock you upside the head with my trident.
Freek: Eep!
**Chapter 3: Beholder's Eye**
Piers stepped into the inn. Everyone was there. He smiled to himself. This would be important. "Ahem. Thank you for coming. I have something to tell you all. You realize that there was someone who entered town today? A stranger?" They nodded. Garet had cleared the inn beforehand, so only those Piers had invited were there; namely, his travel companions and a few others. "Well, there is something important I must tell you about him. He is Q'tiil." Only Isaac recognized the name, and that was just because he had heard it from Piers's mouth earlier that day. "They are dangerous, violent, crude-indeed, they are like animals."
"How do you know?" asked Garet, his voice popping up from the back.
"Records of them exist from the Golden Age. Back then, they were rude, crude, and violent. It is said that they had thirteen civil wars to determine their leader by the last years of the Age, and that they were growing more warlike with each progressing day. They did not care about taking land-they killed for pleasure. Then, not even a hundred years ago, a Q'tiil warship crashed into our soil. There was only one survivor. He has since been a prisoner. He told us of life there, and it has apparently not changed much. He looked much like this Rhoen, but his hair was brown instead of black, and he had red eyes, not blue. But otherwise, he was the same." He paused for breath.
In this moment, Isaac said, "Then why did you not tell us until now?" The others murmured in agreement. Ivan even went so far as to say, "right!"
"I didn't want to draw unnecessary attention. If the others had known, then it would have done no good. Our wars with them should not be your concern." He paused again, unsure of what to say.
"You've had wars with them? When? How many?" Sheba's voice echoed from the back.
"Only a two or three, and the only recent one had ended a few years before my birth. But still, he is dangerous. I have asked Isaac to post a guard to follow him. I will not let Vale become the next Maren Heights." At the looks of the others, he went into an explanation. "The Battle of Maren Heights, about a hundred and fifty years ago, was fought between the Q'tiil and the Lemurians. It centered around an island in the middle of the Great Eastern Sea. The two armies fought on the island, but the Q'tiil gave our men the slip and slaughtered most of the population. As a final act, they forced the island to sink into the depths of the ocean." The others seemed alarmed. {As well they should. We're dealing with an enemy whose power is limitless, whose force is beyond our comprehension, and whose ethics are nonexistent.} Of course, he had only heard that from his father and his uncle, so he didn't know if that was true about one by himself or not, but he had a sneaking suspicion they were right.
***
Rhoen sighed. "I didn't mean to be a source of strife in your family, Kay."
"It wasn't you. It seems my parent's don't think too highly of my decision. They don't care about the fact that you calmed me down, they think something's going to happen, they-" She stopped in mid-sentence. Rhoen was looking pained. "What? What's the matter?"
"Kay, if you think your family has problems... Honestly, I'd give the world to have a family like yours. They're kind, polite, and well brought up. Whereas my family... I had three brothers and five sisters. One of my brothers was constantly trying to murder me in my sleep, my father was a cold-blooded murderer, and one of my sisters thought it was funny to - to - it's too painful to remember." She brought her arm around his shoulder and hugged him close.
"It's okay. You can tell me. I promise I won't hate you for it." {What could be so disturbing that it would still make him afraid even now?} she thought.
"Okay. Every night, my youngest sister, Essaraa, would sneak into my room. She would strip naked and climb into my bed, after which I would roll myself onto the floor. I think I lost about five years of sleep just through that alone. And when my father found out, the demon made me stay in my bed that night. Of course, I wrapped myself in sheets. What I didn't expect was that the bastard would send all five of my sisters in." She had drawn away from him, her face filled with disgust. "I swear to you, all of what I have said about myself is true. I would swear on my own blood, if it would be more of a comfort for you." He grabbed a dagger and slit his left cheek. "I swear, what I said is true." Blood ran down his face like teardrops. "I swear it, Lady Kay of Vale." She still stayed away, that same disgusted look on her face. "Chae'rynn drazhd! Do you know why I call myself Rhoen? Because that is not my true name."
A look of fright crept into her face. {He's serious, isn't he?} Slowly, she approached him again. "Then why do you call yourself that? What does it mean?"
He spoke in halted tones. "In the language of the Q'tiil, a rhoen is a fool. Not just any fool, though. A rhoen will take risks that no other Q'tiil would take. Facing a man in a fair fight, using honest tactics, helping others with no thought of consequences. Well, that is who I am. And I only knew one other like me-Seren, my youngest brother. Honestly, the memory of him is all that keeps me going, sometimes." He buried his head in his hands. "But he was killed. Murdered by a power-hungry Adept named Alex." She walked back over to him, almost afraid he would hurt her. Slowly, she put her arm around him. "That is why I did not want to come and stay with you. I did not want to share a bed with a woman, even if..." He stopped, leaving it hanging.
{Even if what? Even if he loves me?} "What is it? Why were you so nervous?"
"The only women I knew were my sisters, if whores can be called women. They were not kind or generous. They were typical Q'tiil women - caring only for money, without a concern for others or even themselves. If they die rich, they die happy. I hope that the rest of my blood-kin are dead. The world is better without them." He sighed. "And when I came here, I saw that the stereotypes die hard. A Lemurian was in this town. He tried to kill me because I was born Q'tiil. He's such a blind fool, he wouldn't notice the earth under his feet, and when he did, he would protest it wasn't there to hold him up." He got up. "And now, madam, I must ask you to leave. You said this room would be mine. I wish to be alone with my thoughts now." She nodded, then exited. Through the closed door she could hear his voice cry out, "Take me, Iris. Your light has abandoned me. Even angels fear me. Take me from this cruel world." She opened the door again. He was sitting on the end of his bed, sobbing. Quickly, he sat up. Drying the tears from his eyes, he said, "I thought I asked you to leave."
"I... I heard you talking, so I let myself in. Listen, if you're planning suicide, I'll kill you first. And I'm not about to do that, no matter how lecherous you were in the past." He looked up at her. She looked back at him, then closed the door. She didn't want any more surprises that night.
***
After she slammed the door shut for a second time, he cried to himself. {I knew it. I tell her of my past, and she hates me. She has no idea of life in Q'tlataresh. If she did, maybe she would be more sympathetic. But she cannot find out. She is too innocent. And I cannot risk harming the innocent.} Slowly, he tried to tap into his Psynergy again. Maybe it had grown stronger. "Flare," he muttered. A small flame popped at his feet. "Flare wall," he tried. Nothing. Sighing, he tried again. "Whirlwind." Nothing. "Quake." Even his delicate glass figurine didn't move. "Douse." A small cloud appeared. "Drench," he tried again. Nothing. He kept trying Psynergies, but those were the only two that worked. Douse and Flare. He tried to sleep, but the shapes invaded his dreams again. In his sleep, he muttered, "No. I will not use that power. Never. Not that power."
When he woke up the next morning, the first thing that came to his mind was an old Q'tiil saying. "Truth is up to the beholder's eye." He laughed to himself, trying to picture the fool that would actually take that seriously.
***
Freek: And that's the end of chapter 3.
Nynaeve: Where's RM, Freek?
Freek: Well, I've got him waiting outside for a portal. He's going on vacation, too. But I'm hoping he won't come back from this one.
Nynaeve: Oh. Where's Rand?
Freek: He's on his vacation.
Nynaeve: Mario?
Freek: Getting cream soda.
Nynaeve: Anyone?
Freek: Well, Gannon's playing Monopoly against Alex and BM in his chamber.
Nynaeve: I don't feel like joining them. One more question. Why did you have to be such a bastard to Rhoen?
Freek: It's my fic. Now then, to my readers: Review, or face the wrath of eight of my ten muses! Mwahaha!
Nynaeve: *slowly backs away*
REVIEW RESPONSES:
tigerlily98: Don't worry, it's coming this chapter.
Mesoforte: Okay, so I happen to like Kay... What's wrong with that? Besides, Rhoen is not a carbon copy of myself. If I'd had his past, they'd have me as a ward of the state right now. And yes, the plot's coming-slowly... And don't think I couldn't handle Ivan... if Rand were here.
JokersSpecter: O_O I'm on your favorite stories list?! Woohoo! *dances around the room, half-insane* I'm okay. Trust me, though. Most of the stuff in the last chapter? Just background and plot devices.
Wolfy129: That's okay. As long as you read, it's fun, right? But thanks for reviewing anyway. It lifts my spirits.
Rallalon: Yup. Oh, and I envision him as more of a gentleman-more on that this chapter. But other than that... As for the whole Pi(ers/card) thing... "He's going to flip" doesn't begin to cover it. And please don't beat me up for using "Piers." It's just because I have the US version of the game, that's the only version I've played, and I have a preference for that name. It's just me.
END RESPONSES
Nynaeve: YES!!
Freek: Let me guess. You just beat Dullahan.
Nynaeve: No, I beat him while you were writing the last chapter.
Freek: Then why didn't you jump up and scream?
Nynaeve: I was too busy recuperating.
Freek: Ah. So it's the Doom Dragon, then?
Nynaeve: Yes. Anyway, we need someone to do the disclaimer. *Grabs Gannon* You'll do.
Gannon: *sigh* Freek doesn't own Golden Sun, but he does own Rhoen, the land of Q'tlataresh, the language of the people of the land of Q'tlataresh, and the idea of the land of Q'tlataresh, homeland of the Q'tiil. Now then, on with the writing, or I'll knock you upside the head with my trident.
Freek: Eep!
**Chapter 3: Beholder's Eye**
Piers stepped into the inn. Everyone was there. He smiled to himself. This would be important. "Ahem. Thank you for coming. I have something to tell you all. You realize that there was someone who entered town today? A stranger?" They nodded. Garet had cleared the inn beforehand, so only those Piers had invited were there; namely, his travel companions and a few others. "Well, there is something important I must tell you about him. He is Q'tiil." Only Isaac recognized the name, and that was just because he had heard it from Piers's mouth earlier that day. "They are dangerous, violent, crude-indeed, they are like animals."
"How do you know?" asked Garet, his voice popping up from the back.
"Records of them exist from the Golden Age. Back then, they were rude, crude, and violent. It is said that they had thirteen civil wars to determine their leader by the last years of the Age, and that they were growing more warlike with each progressing day. They did not care about taking land-they killed for pleasure. Then, not even a hundred years ago, a Q'tiil warship crashed into our soil. There was only one survivor. He has since been a prisoner. He told us of life there, and it has apparently not changed much. He looked much like this Rhoen, but his hair was brown instead of black, and he had red eyes, not blue. But otherwise, he was the same." He paused for breath.
In this moment, Isaac said, "Then why did you not tell us until now?" The others murmured in agreement. Ivan even went so far as to say, "right!"
"I didn't want to draw unnecessary attention. If the others had known, then it would have done no good. Our wars with them should not be your concern." He paused again, unsure of what to say.
"You've had wars with them? When? How many?" Sheba's voice echoed from the back.
"Only a two or three, and the only recent one had ended a few years before my birth. But still, he is dangerous. I have asked Isaac to post a guard to follow him. I will not let Vale become the next Maren Heights." At the looks of the others, he went into an explanation. "The Battle of Maren Heights, about a hundred and fifty years ago, was fought between the Q'tiil and the Lemurians. It centered around an island in the middle of the Great Eastern Sea. The two armies fought on the island, but the Q'tiil gave our men the slip and slaughtered most of the population. As a final act, they forced the island to sink into the depths of the ocean." The others seemed alarmed. {As well they should. We're dealing with an enemy whose power is limitless, whose force is beyond our comprehension, and whose ethics are nonexistent.} Of course, he had only heard that from his father and his uncle, so he didn't know if that was true about one by himself or not, but he had a sneaking suspicion they were right.
***
Rhoen sighed. "I didn't mean to be a source of strife in your family, Kay."
"It wasn't you. It seems my parent's don't think too highly of my decision. They don't care about the fact that you calmed me down, they think something's going to happen, they-" She stopped in mid-sentence. Rhoen was looking pained. "What? What's the matter?"
"Kay, if you think your family has problems... Honestly, I'd give the world to have a family like yours. They're kind, polite, and well brought up. Whereas my family... I had three brothers and five sisters. One of my brothers was constantly trying to murder me in my sleep, my father was a cold-blooded murderer, and one of my sisters thought it was funny to - to - it's too painful to remember." She brought her arm around his shoulder and hugged him close.
"It's okay. You can tell me. I promise I won't hate you for it." {What could be so disturbing that it would still make him afraid even now?} she thought.
"Okay. Every night, my youngest sister, Essaraa, would sneak into my room. She would strip naked and climb into my bed, after which I would roll myself onto the floor. I think I lost about five years of sleep just through that alone. And when my father found out, the demon made me stay in my bed that night. Of course, I wrapped myself in sheets. What I didn't expect was that the bastard would send all five of my sisters in." She had drawn away from him, her face filled with disgust. "I swear to you, all of what I have said about myself is true. I would swear on my own blood, if it would be more of a comfort for you." He grabbed a dagger and slit his left cheek. "I swear, what I said is true." Blood ran down his face like teardrops. "I swear it, Lady Kay of Vale." She still stayed away, that same disgusted look on her face. "Chae'rynn drazhd! Do you know why I call myself Rhoen? Because that is not my true name."
A look of fright crept into her face. {He's serious, isn't he?} Slowly, she approached him again. "Then why do you call yourself that? What does it mean?"
He spoke in halted tones. "In the language of the Q'tiil, a rhoen is a fool. Not just any fool, though. A rhoen will take risks that no other Q'tiil would take. Facing a man in a fair fight, using honest tactics, helping others with no thought of consequences. Well, that is who I am. And I only knew one other like me-Seren, my youngest brother. Honestly, the memory of him is all that keeps me going, sometimes." He buried his head in his hands. "But he was killed. Murdered by a power-hungry Adept named Alex." She walked back over to him, almost afraid he would hurt her. Slowly, she put her arm around him. "That is why I did not want to come and stay with you. I did not want to share a bed with a woman, even if..." He stopped, leaving it hanging.
{Even if what? Even if he loves me?} "What is it? Why were you so nervous?"
"The only women I knew were my sisters, if whores can be called women. They were not kind or generous. They were typical Q'tiil women - caring only for money, without a concern for others or even themselves. If they die rich, they die happy. I hope that the rest of my blood-kin are dead. The world is better without them." He sighed. "And when I came here, I saw that the stereotypes die hard. A Lemurian was in this town. He tried to kill me because I was born Q'tiil. He's such a blind fool, he wouldn't notice the earth under his feet, and when he did, he would protest it wasn't there to hold him up." He got up. "And now, madam, I must ask you to leave. You said this room would be mine. I wish to be alone with my thoughts now." She nodded, then exited. Through the closed door she could hear his voice cry out, "Take me, Iris. Your light has abandoned me. Even angels fear me. Take me from this cruel world." She opened the door again. He was sitting on the end of his bed, sobbing. Quickly, he sat up. Drying the tears from his eyes, he said, "I thought I asked you to leave."
"I... I heard you talking, so I let myself in. Listen, if you're planning suicide, I'll kill you first. And I'm not about to do that, no matter how lecherous you were in the past." He looked up at her. She looked back at him, then closed the door. She didn't want any more surprises that night.
***
After she slammed the door shut for a second time, he cried to himself. {I knew it. I tell her of my past, and she hates me. She has no idea of life in Q'tlataresh. If she did, maybe she would be more sympathetic. But she cannot find out. She is too innocent. And I cannot risk harming the innocent.} Slowly, he tried to tap into his Psynergy again. Maybe it had grown stronger. "Flare," he muttered. A small flame popped at his feet. "Flare wall," he tried. Nothing. Sighing, he tried again. "Whirlwind." Nothing. "Quake." Even his delicate glass figurine didn't move. "Douse." A small cloud appeared. "Drench," he tried again. Nothing. He kept trying Psynergies, but those were the only two that worked. Douse and Flare. He tried to sleep, but the shapes invaded his dreams again. In his sleep, he muttered, "No. I will not use that power. Never. Not that power."
When he woke up the next morning, the first thing that came to his mind was an old Q'tiil saying. "Truth is up to the beholder's eye." He laughed to himself, trying to picture the fool that would actually take that seriously.
***
Freek: And that's the end of chapter 3.
Nynaeve: Where's RM, Freek?
Freek: Well, I've got him waiting outside for a portal. He's going on vacation, too. But I'm hoping he won't come back from this one.
Nynaeve: Oh. Where's Rand?
Freek: He's on his vacation.
Nynaeve: Mario?
Freek: Getting cream soda.
Nynaeve: Anyone?
Freek: Well, Gannon's playing Monopoly against Alex and BM in his chamber.
Nynaeve: I don't feel like joining them. One more question. Why did you have to be such a bastard to Rhoen?
Freek: It's my fic. Now then, to my readers: Review, or face the wrath of eight of my ten muses! Mwahaha!
Nynaeve: *slowly backs away*