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Chapter 10: Words of Those Lost
"What is your Purpose?"
"To serve."
"Well… I mean… like… specifically?"
"You should have been more specific in your questions."
"Weren't you a missionary?"
"No longer."
"I mean… wasn't it your job to be… you know… educational? Accommodating?"
"No longer."
"I thought you wanted me to learn about the Truth."
"You should have the opportunity to learn. It's not my responsibility to ensure your conversion. No longer."
Berry Farpaw frowned and returned to her reading. Arenzca inhaled and turned away. She did not want the mousemaid to despair in the darkness. But it was not Arenzca's Purpose to force otherwise. Her experience at the colony taught Arenzca that she could not be distracted from her true goal. Fulfilling God's prophecy. That was what mattered, not scones or education. No matter if one mousemaid despaired in darkness. If God wanted Berry converted, he would send another beast with another purpose, or Berry was strong enough to accept the teachings of the book on her own.
"The River Moss!" called Sparic, pointing his dagger out in the direction of the coast.
Ervanni started yelling directions to the Wordless, and the ship began to turn. Arenzca's journey on the sea would come to an end.
"Do you know why your god sent you here?"
"To serve."
"Is this vagueness intentional? Does your god require it?"
"He requires focus."
"In this book you gave me, this book you said contained all the truth I would ever need, it says that the ability to explain yourself clearly is a virtue. Right here, 'Let them learn, let them see–"
"God spoke to me himself, Ms. Farpaw. He entrusted me with a sacred task, a Purpose of Purposes. Any distraction is sin. 'Let yourself be torn away from duty, let yourself lose sight of your goals, even in the slightest, let yourself face doom'. I could feel the distraction, when I tried to teach your village even for a bit. The ambition inside me, the idea of a goal other than his goal. You are here for yourself, not for me."
"Huh."
They sold The Purpose to a few shrews at the mouth of the River Moss in exchange for some food and maps. It seemed there was no such thing as currency here.
Arenzca and her group walked across what seemed like a vast plain, Sparic running off to scout out the path. Nothing but grass as far as the eye could see, the only thing breaking the horizon was a mountain in the far distance, which Berry called Salamandastron. There was nothing like these fields back home. This new world was strange. But that didn't matter. All that mattered was the house of Red Stone, and fulfilling God's plans. Revenge.
Arenzca didn't see the point of Sparic running ahead to scout. What could possibly surprise them here? Then the ground crumbled beneath her, and the air was filled with the scent of sleep.
"You cannot fail."
"I cannot fail."
"You will not fail."
"I will not fail."
"It all rests on you."
"All of it."
And God vanished, leaving Arenzca alone. Alone in her own dreams.
Fields of grass stretched on forever, a sea of pure green. Arenzca ran. Arenzca looked up. Arenzca dug her claws into the ground, and dug forever, only for the sea of green to wash her away.
The sun faded into existence. It was rising, rising in the East. Arenzca ran towards it. She had wasted time, wasted time digging. She should have been running East, like God told her. Run East and Run East and Run East. She could vaguely sense that, as she ran, the fields behind her changed, and grew darker, and twisted voices called, but she could not look back. She would run East.
Trees burst from the soil. She was getting closer. Trees crowded the space. She ran into a tree, and fell over. Time wasted. A knife appeared in her right paw, and she used to gauge out her left eye. She had to be punished for wasting time. And she ran more.
The trees grew red. The trees turned to stone. And then she was there. The House of Red Stone. She could finally look back, and face herself, and the twisted world behind her.
And there was the Fox. There was her revenge.
She awoke.
"Heehee! Painted Ones caughtye!"
"Hee hee! Flitchaye, Flitchaye, Flitchaye! Makefire!"
"Wattabout dis one? Is she… Painted One?"
"Or… is she Golden One?"
"Golden One is Golden, branchsick!"
"What's Golden?"
Shapes blurred in Arenzca's vision. It looked like rats standing over her, but these rats looked like the rats back West. They were green and yellow and purple, and small, and armed with crude spears. As her eyes began to focus, she could tell the colours were painted, unnatural. The Painted Ones, they called themselves. It seemed like there should be a connection there. Her brain was too groggy to make it.
As her senses started to return, Arenzca realised she was neck-deep in the earth. She couldn't move her arms and legs. She could hardly breath, with all the dirt pressing against her chest. Though she couldn't turn her head much, she saw Ervanni and a few others' heads sticking out. There was no sign of Sparic or Berry, though she thought she thought they could be behind her. She was filled with a strange sense of terror when she realised she could have no means of looking behind her, and started writhing in the soil.
They were underground, she noticed, with fire lighting the caves and the air all hot and dry so she kept trying to breathe quicker and it only felt like her lungs were constantly collapsing.
The rats were starting to hum, a monotonous wail that echoed off the walls. Arenzca heard Berry muttering behind her.
"Father was wrong. Oh, he was wrong. I never wanted to go on adventures. Never adventures. But he made me go. And now I'm here. Because of him. Oh… why? Will he regret it? What about her god? Will he save me? Will he save us? Oh… why?"
Then Berry began to recite the Prayer of Safety, and Arenzca sneered. This child had not followed God. She had not been ordained by a Priest. Such a powerful prayer would mean nothing.
Arenzca realised, with a pang of guilt, that she should be praying, and trusting in God. But the rats' humming was winding down, and they were stepping aside, and Arenzca returned her attention to them.
A rat was walking forward, only slightly bigger than all the others and holding a torch. He wore some type of huge skull as a helmet. Badger, Arenzca thought.
The rat stood in front of Arenzca, towering over her, before speaking. "They go free."
"Did my prayers work?"
Arenzca didn't dignify Berry with an answer. She walked on.
"Did you pray? Did that work?"
Arenzca didn't dignify herself with an answer. She walked on.
"Did God… influence that rat… maybe? The book said he did that sometimes."
Arenzca stopped walking. She inhaled. It was good to be free. Not to be in the caves. Not to have the dirt crushing around her. But she wasn't really free, not yet. She started walking again, and spoke this time. "Listen, young Farpaw. I am… you deserve to be taught. More. Listen."
The party made their way across the Western Plains, meeting up with Sparic, who had completely missed the Painted Ones' trap. They made their way east.
"I am here to take revenge. I am here for Vafir Silvertung."
A/N: This chapter is weird. I'm going to break the pattern and have this as the last Arenzca chapter for a little while.
Again I criticise myself without actually fixing the mistakes (yet): A main problem with these two chapters, and the three Sanlo chapters, is the lack of an overarching goal. Each chapter is its own individual event, which isn't ideal, because the chapters are right next to each other, and not enough happens in each chapter. My favorite chapters have been the Fabian chapters, which are all centered around the funeral.
Another problem is the character of Arenzca (so far). Writing out her backstory was very helpful, but overall I don't think I was very consistent in her traits. Again, I think I did a much better job with Fabian, for whatever reason.
Anyway, this is the last Arenzca chapter for now, instead of sticking with the original plan of groups of 3s. This is because I've realized that making up another, 3rd event for them to encounter on the way to Redwall would just mess up the pacing even more.
