Spoiler Warning! If you have not read Ghosts of Ascalon this chapter contains HUGE spoilers for it.
Note: I just want to thank the readers for your support. I've been unable to write for a while due to getting a new job and moving to be closer to said job. It's been a crazy month. So, without further ado, enjoy the second act of the Dance of Lead saga!
ACT II: A Bird Drawn in Blood
Chapter 9: Odd Pair
The moon floated low on the western horizon, signalling that in a few hours the new day would rise. Cold western breezes carried the scents of life, cattle, wet earth, and the first blossoms of spring. The wind shifted, blowing from the east, nature's breath, now sinister, carried an evil prescience from where only death reigned. For in the east, running from the distant north to the far south, there was a long, purple scar, The Brand, a festering wound inflicted by the mindless will of an elder dragon.
Where this crystalline desolation and green fields touched, was a bizarre place. Half the sky was peaceful night-time, and half a tempest of inky clouds and lightning strikes. It was near this divide, just a stone throw from the violet hell from which the sounds of corrupted and maligned creatures echoed, a large pile of stones, both branded and untouched, were stacked into a small mound. A grave. From the mound a small, but robust, tree had grown, spreading it's comforting shade, sheltering the monument from the drifting ash.
A cloaked figure dressed in billowing, dark purple fabric, emerged from The Brand. Tiny, leather clad feet stepped over the young grass, as the visitor came to pay her respects.
From under the hood peeked out a greenish, off-white face. Sorrow creased the smooth bark that formed her 'skin'.
"Greetings," she said bitterly. "My name's Rhiannon. You gave me your dream."
She paused as if expecting some sort of reply. Then she removed a glove from her hand, brushed aside a large, pink petal which stubbornly fell out of line with the rest of the lily-like petals which grew from the top of her head.
Slowly, she extended her uncovered hand to touch the pile. Rhiannon bit her lip until golden sap began to seep through her teeth. Her knees bent and she curled down into as small a space she could, keeping her hand on the rocks.
"I thought there was one who I could understand," she muttered to the pile. "But even you have met my good friend, death, Killeen. Now Soundless, I shall ever be."
Hours passed as Rhiannon stayed still as stone, hunched down in a little ball, while her long cloak was tugged and played with by the winds. As the sun rose over the craggy walls of the greenery filled copse, the light rejuvenated her weary body. She opened her eyes and saw what she could not before.
On the burial mound lay a single, withered flower, placed there by someone not long ago. An iris, red as human blood, she had seen many in fields on her journey through Ascalon, hunting for the only one of her kind that did not cause her to fear. Her heart leapt with an almost bubbly joy. She stood up straight, gazing down at the wilted flower. Confused laughter escaped her lips.
"So, though you are now but a dream to me, someone else remembers you!" Her face became thoughtful as she scrutinised the mound. "Is… is this what you wanted me to see Killeen?" She touched the stones tenderly, leaving behind a shell she had picked up the day she departed Urpp and his family to find her only sister born of the tree.
She climbed out of the sanctuary and onto the grassy plains. Her eyes fell on the distant smoke rising in the northwest, signifying habitation. Whatever the place was, she knew that it would be where more of those bulky, feline warriors lived. Unaware of anything better to occupy herself with, she started off towards the smoke, only briefly turning around to wave to Killeen in gratitude.
If someone hears me, there is a sound. I'll find my sound. I'll find someone who hears me. And I will be soundless no more.
Bubbles rose in the vials, flasks and beakers arranged together with clear tubes twisting between them, carrying various coloured fluids.
Seven examined the lab with care. He grunted in approval and opened the valve on the lowest flask, filling a small bottle with pinkish fluid. He carried the new mixture out into the examination room where the old healer was inspecting a young charr's healing wrist.
"Lewis," Seven addressed the healer, "I finished the elixir."
The old man almost forgot to look perturbed at being addressed by name, a fact Seven found pleasing. "Well, give it to him, we haven't all day." The elder human growled.
Seven obliged. The patient looked with suspicion at the fluid, but plugged his snout and swigged it down.
After a few coughs, the charr's face lit up as he moved his wrist experimentally. "You fixed it! I went to every healer I could, but in a couple days you fixed it! I get to stay on the front lines!"
With that, the feline jumped off the bed and lumbered to the door. He turned around just before leaving. "Do I owe anything further?" he asked suspiciously.
Lewis shook his head. "No, you've paid, unless you have any tips."
The charr shook his head curtly but still felt like he had left something undone. Suddenly he straightened his back and placed his arm across his chest in salute.
Lewis stared in confusion. "What's he waiting for."
Seven rolled his eyes as he pounded a fist to his own chest. "For you to salute back."
Grumbling Lewis followed his example, and the charr vanished out the door, eager to re-join his legion.
"Well doesn't that warm your heart?" the old man asked sarcastically, "I suppose you're going to make a ridiculous show of your gratitude too?"
Seven's four ears perked up between his horns. "Oh, that's right! Today is the day isn't it?"
"It should be," Lewis grumbled. "Assuming you healed up correctly from the last treatment. I don't see you limping anymore. Well, come on! Let's get your last exam over with."
Two hours later, as the sun rose high in the sky over the Black Citadel. Seven was in his room, packing his belongings, which were not nearly as meagre as when he arrived in the city. With the money he inherited from Srykar, he had been able to purchase new clothes, including a pale leather engineer's jacket with all the hidden pockets he could desire.
Furthermore, with what he earned from making elixirs and assisting Lewis, he purchased a state-of-the-art monocle, worn like an eye-patch, with special, magic optical filter lenses developed by a quite grumpy, and possibly insane asura. Much to Seven's relief, the monocle worked splendidly and was his go to tool for working with enchanted machinery parts and it had a lens that corrected his off-balanced sight from overuse of his dominant right eye.
All these things were trifles though, and were nothing to the thrill of standing evenly on two feet for the first time in five years. He admired Lewis' handiwork, his left leg had come from being withered and skinny to almost as fully muscled as his right. He could jump, walk with only the slightest limp, and in theory run, though he had not actually tried yet. The Gladium Canton did not provide much running space in the overcrowded huts and scattered potted gardens.
Slinging his pack on his back and strapping on his monocle, he left his room, bare and empty of any sign he had been there, save the stack of elixir formulas on the desk for Lewis. He looked back as he shut the door, paying one last respect to his living quarters.
Seven was not surprised that the doctor was nowhere in sight. He knew Lewis had grown to respect him as a skilled chemist, but apparently not as a friend who would say farewell. Departing the small office, he was confronted by the now familiar sights, and smells, of the canton. In recent times, sylvari had arrived in droves to the under-city, planting exotic flora throughout. No one was certain of their reason for staying, other than simple curiosity. Still, they caused no trouble with their charr neighbours, and helped make the former disease ridden slum into one of the more attractive parts of the city, at least from Seven's perspective, who felt homesick for the wide open fields and cool thickets to the northeast.
His hand drifted to his pocket, touching the letter within. He had read its contents many times, and knew the next steps by heart. With purpose to his stride, Seven trudged through the twists and turns of the slum until at last he took a long system of ramps and stairs and emerged into the fresh, cooler air of the Black Citadel surface level. He came to a crossroads, one route towards the new Asura gate, the other towards the vendors.
I should probably pay one last visit to Wick and Lakka, he decided, taking the wide, cog-paved street towards the eastern part of the city. He would have fulfilled his task uninterrupted had he not heard a commotion from amongst the vending stalls.
Stopping, he glanced over at the canopies of the rustic market. Angry roars seemed to come nearer and he caught scattered commands: 'Get her!' 'Don't let it get away!' 'My leg!' and a plethora of violent expletives. Seven would have just kept walking, certain that whatever was the matter, it was none of his business. But his attention was grabbed by a crashing noise. An entire group of canopies collapsed and Seven snatched a glimpse of a small, dark-clad, probably female, figure leaping out of the falling canvas. She was being pursued by Iron Legion charr, but they were clearly not members of law enforcement, judging by both their lack of uniform, and their grossly rough treatment of the vendors and customers who scurried about to avoid their rampage.
Curiosity killed the cat, he cautioned himself even as he moved towards the chaos.
Panted breaths rattled beneath the midnight purple hood of the pursued woman. Her feet lightly landing on barrels, tables, carts, and the occasional shoulder before she took off as graceful as a sparrow. Violet eyes chanced a glance behind her, seeing that despite her best efforts, her pursuers were tireless, and gaining on her. She was not certain, but suspected that she saw an elementalist among them using air magic to hasten their steps. She turned a corner and a cart was right in her path. With casual grace she vaulted herself over the vehicle and flipped mid-air. However, as soon as her feet touched the ground, the cart burst asunder, knocking her forward and sending her sprawling on the metal plated ground as debris scattered around her.
She brought her arms underneath her and was about to push herself up when a large, leatherclad charr tackled her, flattening her to the ground under his weight.
She looked over at the charr's straw furred muzzle and winced at his hot breath on her face as the feline panted from the exertion of the chase. His fellows surrounded her, ensuring no possibility of escape. His claws dug into her shoulder as her flipped her onto her back and ripped off her hood. They all looked surprised at her pink-petaled head, and pale green skin.
"A. sylvari. eh?" he gasped between pants.
"That is what I am," she replied curtly. "Now if you would unhand me, perhaps we might talk like moderately sentient people."
His claws dug deeper into her shoulder, as he still weighed her down with his abdomen.
"You're hurting me." she declared flatly.
"Like I care!" he roared. "What do you think you were doi-?!"
Her image shattered and vanished, followed by illusionary, violet butterflies fluttering around him as the straw-fur grabbed at his head whilst his mind was wracked to the point of physical agony.
The group of tired soldiers searched around them, nostrils flaring trying to spot, or smell their quarry.
"Attention bookahs!" a bubbly voice called out.
They looked to see the sylvari sitting prim with legs crossed on a balcony overlooking them. "Perhaps you should all excogitate your behaviour? Examine the disarray you've manufactured. Won't your superiors be displeased?"
"Not if we catch you they won't!" one of them shouted.
"Imbeciles all of you!" she called, shaking her head in pity. And with an impertinent sticking out of the tongue, she dropped off the balcony into the jungle of stalls.
The warband rushed her direction.
"I see her!" one shouting, running to the left.
"No, she's over here!" another corrected, pointing right as a pink tufted head vanished around the corner.
"You're both wrong there are two- wait…" several of the dumbfounded felines looked at two perfect copies of the plant woman, who stopped long enough to wave and shout out a couple polysyllabic insults, before they too dashed into the market jumble.
Roars and expletives condemning all mesmeric arts could be heard in profuse amounts over a vast area as they scoured the city for the troublemaker.
Giggles echoed against the dark metal walls of the alleyway. The sylvari stretched to the sky luxuriously and leaned against a wall, looking at the small purse of gold coins in her palm. "So much inconvenience over so little," she muttered.
In the distance she could hear the search parties dying down. Which either meant they had given up, or more likely, their tempers had cooled and they were preparing for a more efficient and organised search.
She remembered Urpp mentioning his mild admiration of the charr reputation of being well organised and hard workers. She sighed, I've gotten myself into a superfluity of trouble. I should alter my methodology of the mission for rememberers… rememberers? That's not a word!
She pouted a moment, trying to think of a better word. She envied the asuran superior intellect and verbiage, two things she had tried to emulate for as long as she could remember.
She was so absorbed in her word-crafting she did not hear the 'snap' and 'chink' sounds before her vision was obscured by netting and she fell to the floor. Panic set in as she tried to get out of the mesh, but she only succeeded in tangling herself up further.
From out of the darkness she saw a short but bulky charr emerge, his silver fur standing out against the dark walls.
"I guess my hunch was right," he said as he approached.
"Get back! I'll shatter!" she threatened.
"I'm aware that you aren't a clone, so I'd like to see you try." he rolled his eyes at the suggestion.
She calmed herself enough to look at the newcomer. He was dressed differently than her pursuers. His clothing was not worn, but new and stylish, even sporting a sky blue collared shirt underneath his coat. A merchant? she wondered before asking,"You intend to surrender me to those thugs?"
"Not sure, depends on whether I believe your story." He reached down to the net. "If you promise not to run, I'll get you out of there."
The sylvari nodded to him, "I provide you my guarantee."
He chuckled, in a way she could only describe as very 'un-felinoid' and 'warm.' "You have a liking of long words." His hand reached for a part of the net and tugged, and almost magically, she found herself free of the trap.
She stood up, nodding curtly towards him, "I appreciate your willingness to understand. My name is Rhiannon."
"When one lives in the Gladium Canton, one learns to not jump the gun. I go by the name Seven Steelwolf." He gestured to a stack of containers, "Care to sit down?"
Rhiannon stared, trying to figure him out. She accepted his offer, dutifully saying, "My pleasure," while taking a seat.
Seven let out a deep, rumbling sigh as he sat, then turned to her. "So, what did all of that," he pointed towards the market, "have to do with this?" he raised the small bag of coinage.
She betrayed the briefest expression of surprise, wondering when he had liberated the purse from her. However, she reigned herself in and began her plea, "I did not steal, if that's what you were wondering. I was merely returning what was taken."
Seven cocked a brow, but remained silent.
"Not two hours ago I was in the market, conversing with a shopkeeper. He was explaining to me the… well that's another story altogether. He was just beginning the fascinating portion when a couple of those brutes showed up and forcefully took the coin from him!"
"Was he late on his taxes?" Seven asked.
"I don't think so. They were mentioning items they wished to purchase with their 'hard-earned money.'"
"And this is where you got in trouble?"
"Affirmative. I informed them what I thought of their actions. The matter would have ended there, had I not insulted their superior… while he was within audible range. Those four auscultators of yours aren't for show! Well, the rest you saw, for the most part. I may have committed a few other acts of… suitable humiliation."
Seven's face seemed both amused and incredulous. His eyes examined hers intently, as if trying to see through any deceptions. "Say, I believe you, where does that leave us?"
Rhiannon grinned, then replied, "The right thing to do is return the money to its rightful owner, then if you wish… I'll turn myself in."
Seven was taken aback. "Wait, what?"
"After all, if I've done something wrong, it would be best that I pay for my actions. I mean, I did cause them to make a mess of the market."
The charr took one look at her small frame and innocent face. He had great faith in the justice system of the Black Citadel, but if he did let her turn herself in, he knew he would end up staying with her, out of a sense of responsibility, to see how it turned out, which would mean he would delay completing Srykar's instructions. I'm such a sucker, he reprimanded himself.
"You aren't registered as a resident here, correct?"
She shook her head. "I just arrived here."
Seven ran a few calculations in his head. As a foreigner, if she was given a moderate punishment it would be banishment from the citadel. An idea formed, and a mischievous gleam sparkled in his eyes. "Hey, Rhiannon, how about we save the Citadel the trouble. Accept banishment now, come with me, and let the soldiers take the brunt."
She grinned at the thought of the soldiers not having a scapegoat. "I knew I liked your cerebellum!"
He blinked and coughed shyly at the compliment, "Alright then, follow me…"
If Rhiannon seems at all emotionally/mentally unstable to you, she is very unstable, just want to clarify that. The last time we saw her, she was naked on the beach newly born. She's had a full year to grow as a person and is still growing. And being only a year old, she still is very much a "child" in the mental sense, though she may be full sized physically.
There's a lot more I'd like to say about her, but I don't want to spoil. Despite her late arrival to the cast, Rhiannon is going to serve as a very central part of the story.
I hope this chapter has been worth the (long) wait!