First Fork's heart tree loomed over me, rays of the dawn sun casting it in warm light. The sapless face seemed kindly today, looking out towards the crowded plaza where the morning bustle was well underway.
My sword, sheathed in lacquered wood, lay in a crook of the roots. I sat on a comfortably large root, occasionally glancing at it.
It was quiet, had been quiet for so long that I thought what happened last night was a dream in truth. I'd felt so irresistibly drawn to that island, it almost felt I'd been watching through my own eyes as my body moved on it's own.
The thought brought back the cold shivers. Was that even me? I remembered stepping outside, the light of the Moon suffusing everything, and then it became a blur.
Something about visiting Grenwin, as if I really thought I wouldn't come back. Why had I felt that way? It doesn't matter where I go, I could always just Travel back home, after all…
Come to think, things had become clearer after I'd returned, like reality had asserted itself. I'd not drawn my sword since, terrified that scarlet-black flame would come back, worming its way through my skin…
Shuddering, I turned away from the blade. Looking up at the face of the heart tree, desperation bubbling away up my throat.
"Who am I?" I asked the face, "Why is this happening to me?"
The face watched the people, impassive. A breeze from the river rustled softly through the tree's crimson leaves.
I thought it through, starting from the first. I woke up in the snow, and I remembered not knowing my name. Maia had felt right, but my childhood memories… They all named me Kasey. I wasn't her, though. She and I, we were similar, but I knew for sure that we were not the same person.
I had thought my bachelor's in sociology had been mine. It wasn't. Like it seemed everything else, it was thrown at me. What made it any different than the lights, giving me so many wonders?
My sword, as well. I thought it tied to a light, yet I could remember watching a young man practicing with it. It had been plain metal then, unlike last night, after I'd watered it with my blood. Mai's memories, then? Why were hers so faint, when Kasey's memories were like remembering a clear dream?
"I don't know what to do…" I whined at the face, embracing a moment of juvenility. That, at least, was my choice. I thought for a moment, pieces coming together. "No, I know what I need to do. I'm going to stay my course, see my people to safety below the Wall. From there, I don't know, but that's my goal right now."
The face did not respond.
"Hullo!" A man's kindly voice called up, followed by surefooted footfalls.
Turning my head, I saw a slender man coming up to the little rise the weirwood rested on. His eyes were shrewd, and I knew this man was dangerous.
I looked over at the sword, trying to figure out if this was my own impulse, or something foreign.
I waved the man over, standing to greet him. "Hello. I don't think I've met you yet. Name's Maia."
The man's mouth curled in a small smile, "Figured, you're the only one with wings around." He looked up at the heart tree, hesitating, before continuing to settle on a nearby root. Looking back over the plaza, he leaned forward conspiratorially. "I'd ask you not to tell anyone else, Maia. My name is Mance Rayder."
I tilted my head, looking him over. He didn't really seem the great man the stories told about him suggested, if he wasn't lying for attention.
"If you were Mance, how did you find yourself here? I find it an unpleasant coincidence after recent events." I watched his face, noticing a hint of affront that was covered quickly. What was that supposed to mean?
"The Antler-Clans gather near the high solstice each year, I'd been told, and I wanted to see the kind of people they were when they come together." He shrugged, "I hadn't expected the Antler-King to have as much sway as he does. You should honor Teagj, he and his people worked hard to bring as many as they had. I accompanied them, curious to see if what they claimed was true."
That tracked, by my reckoning. Not targeted, then. Not more bullshit, just regular human shit.
Relaxing, "You must know how, ah, odd it might seem for a man claiming to be Mance to appear. So, are you going to try to kill me, take my people for your own?" I almost hoped he would try, at least it would be straightforward.
Emphatically shaking his head, "I swore an Oath to bring no harm to First Fork. Trying to kill you and take your claim, well, I think that would make the land murderously upset with me." It sounded a joke, and he paused before continuing more seriously. "I've never seen before what you and yours have built here. I'm envious of your success."
"You've nearly a hundred thousand people following you, I only had to worry about a hundred and a half." I pointed out, entertaining the man's claims.
He nodded seriously, "And each and every one of your people is fed. There was enough food last night that each of us had a full bowl! They're well-clothed, sheltered in something better than tents, and they've repelled the Others not once, but twice!" He quieted, watching me intently.
"So, what do we do, Mance?" I shrugged, "My course is set. I will continue to gather people here, and when we have enough to move below the Wall and establish ourselves, we will do so. I won't move against you, if that's what you're worried about. I don't want your title."
He blinked, surprised. "Truly?" He tapped his chin in thought, "That's a first. What does being Queen-Beyond-the-Wall mean to you, then?"
"Grenwin says it's about being willing to fight for and alongside the people, Ellir says it's a thing to do with the Gods and spirits, and myself? All I know is that I've not had a single night's rest since I've taken the role. I'm terrified that the Others will come and wipe us all out, because they can. Have you seen them, Mance? Have you fought one? I have, and despite losing a hand, it was so beyond my ability to fight that all I did was stall it until something incredible happened."
Mance's eyes widened, and he laughed. It started as a small chuckle, growing until great peals of belly-laughter sounded from him. Calming himself, he wiped tears from his eyes.
"I've certainly not heard that before. 'I'm the strongest and thus I rule,' or 'I was chosen by the Old Gods,' that's what I was expecting." Soberly, he gave me a reassuring nod, "It doesn't get any easier, you know. That weight? That fear you feel? Keep a strong hold on it. Use it to remember how you began when the world itself seems to conspire against you."
…Did I even know anything about Mance the person, and not Mance the King? I could see, suddenly, how he could bring so many together.
"I, ah, I will." I awkwardly affirmed.
He nodded resolutely. His eyes wandered over to where the sheathed blade sat, and his face grew curious.
"I've heard wondrous things about your sword, Maia. May I see it?"
A cold chill ran down my spine. But… What was I so scared of? The sword had healed last night, those scarlet flames feeling warm as sunlight as they wriggled up my arm-
Resolutely nodding, knowing I'd have to face it eventually, I took up the long sheath. I closed my eyes, hesitating before grasping the hilt, feeding my worries into an imagined flame.
The hilt was as warm as the Lodge's hearthfire, and I felt a distinct awareness within acknowledging me. I opened my eyes, unlatching the sheath, steadfastly ignoring the trembles in my arm. The scarlet-black fire dripped from the blade as I drew it a handspan.
Despite the blaze, it counteracted the growing heat of the morning, somehow more personable and comforting than the overwhelming strength of the sun.
Mance's eyes were wide as he beheld the glowing blade and rippling fire, shock warring with hope over his features. He leaned towards it a little, looking closely. At the runes? I couldn't tell.
He whispered something I missed, shaking his head. "Can, Can you put that away?" He asked quietly, transfixed by the rippling flames.
I sheathed the blade, latching and setting it aside.
We sat like that for a while, Mance's eye's locked on the sheathe. Abruptly, he stood, stumbling unsteadily away without a word.
I didn't feel much better off myself, though perhaps glad that the fire had stayed outside of my body this time.
…Fuck me, I met a dragon last night? Wingless, sure, but… Symon had said dragons had been real, before they'd died out. Maybe she had just been a survivor, somehow? Didn't explain why she was a tree, though.
There had been that strange woman who couldn't bleed, too. She had spoken something that sounded like Japanese, but my knowledge was too limited to be sure.
Should I confront Tunerk over this? Something told me he probably didn't know about the dragon that was maybe also a tree. The whole of that volcanic caldera had been large, and I'd only seen a little of the island in the center. It wasn't impossible that I'd just bypassed whoever else lived there, whoever it was that he thought I would meet.
Or, he meant the woman my sword named Okami. There was something about her that was distinctly off, and it was only that heart wrenching scream of hers that convinced me she was human at all.
"You're an interesting girl, Maia of First Fork."
The feminine voice came from the sheathed blade, yet sounded in my head.
Oh, that's where my limit is.
"Nope." I said coolly, "I'm not doing this." Standing, I took the sword and belted it at my waist, ignoring the voice. "I'm going to go fix my goddamn Armored Core. Then, I'm going to find Gren and Ygdis, and then we're going to run the newcomers through how we do things here." Nodding forcefully, I resolved myself.
I made my way down through the plaza, forcing myself to stop and give every person I passed some form of acknowledgement. I paused at one of the food stalls, trading the knife I kept on my ankle for a few skewers of sizzling elk.
Sitting not far from an ongoing boxing match, I took my time savoring the food. The consistent sound of the two burly men hitting each other and the cheering of the other watchers were soothing.
I should do something about Mance. I don't know what, but I could at least have him watched, maybe. If he tries taking any of my people, I'll toss him out on his ass and let it be known he's not welcome back.
I pulled out my tablet, sending his description to Ygdis and the request to watch him closely. He'd asked me not to spread his name, and for my own reasons, I'd keep it quiet. Whatever he went by here, it had less weight than Mance Rayder.
The boxers were still at it by the time I finished my skewers and stood, tossing the wooden sticks into a nearby trashcan. A hoop rolled past me, chased by a group of kids with sticks.
After they passed, I walked through the Lodge to get to the hangar, passing through the doorway that still led to my pocket reality.
The Knight hung suspended by braces of shaped wood, unable to bear its own weight with the left knee blown to hell and back. The incongruity of wooden scaffolding around something so clearly advanced made me smile.
I climbed up to the cockpit, climbing in. Turning on the computers, I kept everything on battery for the moment. It took a little bit of finagling to get the tablet to hook up to the internal systems of the Knight, but I was eventually able to get a detailed damage report.
It wasn't that bad, for how it looked. While the blade-legs those Arachs used were sharp and pierced the armor, they couldn't cut, as it seemed they were designed to do.
Schenburg's borrowed intuition told me they had more in common with anti-infantry MTs than anything else. I wasn't sure how accurate that was, but it did explain the scything motions they'd tried at first, trying to cut through the metal skin.
Each cut didn't do that much damage, not in comparison to AC-grade weaponry. Under the armor, the only damaged components were those directly in the path of the piercing strikes, whereas the rounds the Knight's rifle fired were designed to explode after penetrating armor.
I wondered what the Others must think of us. The first time they come, the people vanish. The second time, the people fight with arms and coordination, and use large weapon to strike the present Others directly. The third time, the Others bring anti-infantry equipment and are faced with the Knight.
Maybe it was for the best that I was a shit pilot. Two hours in the onboard simulator for fun in the days prior to the battle did not prepare me.
Given how much of my time was already occupied, I needed to start looking for other pilots. I half considered Grenwin, imagining her bellowing orders from the towering Knight. Shaking my head, I knew she'd need a clear head for directing battle, and there was too much going on in the Knight to make that possible.
Perhaps we should just run trials with the simulator. I didn't know many people well enough to be able to tell who'd make a good pilot. So, keep it open, maybe just make it an ongoing thing people can do. Test yourself with the Knight and see if you've got what it takes, or something.
I poked my head into the gaping wound of the Knight's knee. From the damage report, the Arach had struck a concentration of power distribution nodes, which somehow caused the nearby thermal regulator to overdraw power and explode violently.
The interior was slagged, but not unsalvageable. Maybe. Most of what I'd been getting from Schenburg's memories were unrelated to repair work, but I should be able to identify, with help from the computers, the components I needed to replace.
Embracing Saidar, I Delved the joint. Examining each and every component, I carefully started scraping away the slag with flows of Fire and Earth. It was tedious work, but I wanted to be thorough.
I tried hard to ignore thoughts of rotten bark.
Once the wound had been cleaned, the full extent of the damage was plainly visible. The knee joint itself had been badly damaged, to a degree I didn't think I could fix by just cleaning out junk. Nor could I just fabricate a new one, as I'd not had the time to take it apart for future spare part procurement.
That meant actually designing a new one, and that meant I'd need to take apart the intact leg to see how everything worked in the first place.
It was a prospect I was excited to tackle.
Checking the time on my tablet, I found I'd been at this for nearly an hour. Sighing, I put it back in my pocket, descending the scaffolding.
Time to find my sisters, and then to start integrating the newcomers. After that…
After, I'd deal with the sword, and get my answers one way or the other.