Chapter 4 - A Berserker's End

While the journey till now might have given Varus the impression that the presence of people on the ship was scarce. despite the obvious number of imprisonments recorded in Siwan's journal book. His illusion only truly shattered when he passed towards the Passenger board into the hold of the ship.

Stepping into the compartment proper, he found himself unknowingly observing the room which was filled with people. It was a diverse gathering of sourcerers, encompassing various races and age groups — from children to the elderly — engaged in different crafts, of different mindsets. Some were solitary, lost in their thoughts, while others still maintained a semblance of merriment, smiles adorning their faces. All bound by the collars on their necks, to be surely taken to Fort Joy where an unknown future awaits them.

The sheer scale of the operation awed him, leaving Varus momentarily stunned. Executing an operation on this scale would have required a significant allocation of resources. Sending dozens of ships back and forth suggested a substantial logistical effort. There must be well-defined objectives guiding such an endeavour. He could only hope that these goals were not only clear but also valid and justifiable.

His thoughts were interrupted by the echoes of laughter and joyful chaos emanating from a group of children. At the heart of the commotion stood a graceful woman, playfully engaging in the revelry with an upbeat voice. Her distinctive orange hair set her apart in the sea of faces.

"Lohse, why won't you sing?" He abruptly overheard, discreetly eavesdropping on their conversation. The other children's voices followed, pleading with a chorus of "please, please, please," to which she responded with a touch of flair, "Be good, you scaly rags."

"Why won't you sing? I know you can," another girl uttered, her eyes out of sorts. Lohse shook her head while deftly tying her hair, remarking, "A 'no' doesn't become a 'yes' over time."

As he further approached, the lively scene continued to unfold before him. Lohse, with her keen senses, caught his discreet observation. Twinkling mischievously, she theatrically cleared her throat and, with a playful twirl of her fingers, pointed at Varus, suddenly announcing, "Ah, there you are, *ahem*, husband!"

Absolute pin-drop silence followed.

Varus, unfazed by this turn of events, couldn't help but wonder about this novel bullshit. He raised an eyebrow at her, silently questioning the unfolding drama. Unfazed by his scepticism, Lohse, with a theatrical sigh, continued, "Would you please inform this charming gaggle of not-so-brat-like babes that I am most certainly not this 'Lohse' woman they speak of? Nor do I sing - in fact, I'm deathly, deathly allergic to it!"

It was certainly amusing, Varus decided to join the charade and played along. He took her waist in his hands, looking at the children with an exaggerated grin. "She's absolutely right. You must be mistaken - she's nothing like Lady Lohse."

"How absolutely correct you are, dear spouse of mine! Madame Josephine Gribbles De Peeb is not to be confused with anyone else!" Lohse declared, lifting her head like a proud peacock, eliciting laughter from the surrounding audience. Puzzled, she questioned, "Wait, what? What's so funny?" The pinched seriousness of her face crumbled into an infectious grin as she playfully shooed the children away amidst laughter.

"Yeah, okay, fine, you caught me. Go on, scram, and maybe I'll treat you to a song when I'm good and ready!" Lohse turned to him, her dark eyes and dishevelled hair adding to the comedic flair, smiling with a cheeky wink. "Gotta keep ourselves entertained, haven't we?"

"That's true enough," Varus nodded, offering his hand. "Lohse, I presume?"

Lohse laughed as she accepted his hand, "Then you'd presume right."

"Do you know anything weird happening across the board lately — especially about the murder onboard?", he pondered and asked.

"Nope! Trying not to find anything out, either. Ignorance is bliss, the utter-er, the better," in rapid succession, Lohse spouted these words as if she wanted to stay ten feet away from whatever was happening on the ship.

No problem with that. But something feels off, Varus wondered. "You ought to look around. We can share information. Stranger things have happened before."

Lohse shook her head as she rejoined the kids, "Thanks, but I already belong to an elite and exclusive ship gang. We play ball every day after lunch. You're too soft for it," she raised her hands in a casual goodbye. "You take care though. Good luck, chief."

Suddenly, from a distance, her eyes darkened into an unnatural black. Greyish veins traced down her face, and her mouth tightened into a cruel sneer. As swiftly as the eerie transformation occurred, the clouds cleared, and she smiled as though untouched by any change.

"Well, that's a strange way of getting rejected," muttered Varus looking away.

"I can sense the stench of darkness even from a world away. Tread carefully, mortal," suddenly, his overlord's dominant voice rang in his ears. He refocused his attention on Lohse, who was now going further away.

"Gods, you're back," Varus quipped, his voice perhaps sounding a bit too amusing to her.

"Another idle talk. I do not know about your primitive world, but even the false, unworthy ones who proclaim themselves as false gods-the filthy trash of perverse nature — are not usually idle. And this one is more than a god," the voice proclaimed, and he feigned further amazement.

"Fair enough," He began stepping away from Lohse and towards the other side of the hold. "So, how many problems? "

"Many. That's all you need to know."

Hmm, Varus nodded and began to search for more loot. As he rifled through the belongings, he chanced upon a few crafting books that he was too lazy to care about, storing them for later use. In a drawer, he found a fresh shirt with a cap. While it wasn't armour, it significantly improved his torn robes. Finally, the chilly wind would not compel him towards doom.

As he continued snooping, he found his gaze unwittingly drawn to an alluring elf tucked away in a dark corner, lazily rolling dice onto the surface of an oil barrel. With each roll, her laughter echoed from her fair visage, a mad sound filled with venom, resembling the dry cackling of an old witch.

"Snake eyes," she muttered in her languid posture, then chuckled, "I bet that's just what they will look like."

Still, in the mood for seeking some more indulgence and torture, Varus decided for his second attempt, "Playing alone? May I join you, my lady?"

She shook her head. Varus was beginning to feel that today might just not be his day when she replied, "Game for one, I am afraid."

"Rolling dice," she eyed her dice carefully and threw it again, "Deciding fates."

Looks like everyone has some screw loose here, including me, of course, he now realized. But he felt he was too far into this job, and this fuckery should continue, so he questioned her with another question, "Whose fate are you deciding?"

"Don't worry, honey. It isn't yours," she looked him up and down with the merest hint of a coy smile on her lips as she mouthed the words, "Never say never though."

That did nothing but kickstart another round of dopamine in his brain.

With his mind now racing, he couldn't help but remember what he knew about elves and... rumours about elves.

Continuing the conversation, he inquired, "If you can decide fates with dice, are you implying that you can see through the future as well?"

The lady eyed Varus quite curiously now, shaking her head. However, her eyes carried a glimmer, a knowing look that suggested she knew that he knew about what he thought she knew.

"Not the future, no. But I can read the past in the flesh. One of the perks of being an elf, you see. I'm quite good at it too. I could lick your arm and tell you how you spent the night before last. Shall I?" With a casual air, she picked up a needle from somewhere and began to run it across her long, sleek tongue.

Varus would be lying if he said he didn't want to try it. However, the problem was they were not close enough for him to inquire about where her tongue had been. With his brain still running fast, he settled for the next best thing.

"You don't need to go that far. You know about the murder that put the magisters on edge, right? Lick this and tell me what you know," He suggested as he offered the broken collar. Stains of blood still lingered, dried up remains or otherwise.

She chuckled once more, "That red-cheeked refusal tells me more than any licking you would. But suit yourself; I'll try this then."

She gave the collar remnant a vigorous stroke of the tongue, efficient, like a cat grooming. She closed her eyes as she savoured the taste and the memories emanating from it.

"Speaking of memories, Lady Light," Varus had a smile as he tapped into his inner mind, "Wasn't expecting this from the primitive world, did ya? "

It wasn't every day that he had something to counter her — he better remember this day well.

"Hmm, she does have some interesting anatomy going for her. You call her an elf, but she's certainly no Mer to me — magically attuned as she may be. A certain similarity to Bosmer, perhaps, or perhaps not. Convergent evolution tuned with arcane well has done some interesting things before in many worlds, so this one is not a surprise anymore, " the voice continued as it grew more contemplative. "More than this topic, I may be more interested in what she is going through, how she is going through it. The energy takeout may be enormous across the worlds, but I am in a generous mood lately. Pathfinder, steel yourself, for you are going inside her mind. At my call. "

3…

Wait, what? he stood up. "This is unethical," Varus muttered, attempting to dash but halting as he realized it would be futile.

2…

"...and pretty painful too," he sighed, resigned, and sat back down, bracing himself for the inevitable.

1…

"Shit.", Varus blanked out for a moment, his eyes blazing as he felt a rush of heat and dust coursing through him. If someone were observing him, they would find his eyes emitting rays like glowing marbles in darkness. Tears seeped out, but they evaporated the moment they touched his skin.

As the elf meticulously licked the broken collar, savouring every trace of blood, he sensed her consciousness sparking anew like firecrackers being lit up. Like a blank canvas, new memories emerged seemingly out of nowhere. In a synchronized dance, his consciousness merged with hers, and suddenly, he became she — the elf, Sebille Kaleran.

As her soul felt the dead man's soul embers from his physical remains, despite how tiny it was. Varus could feel her soul enthralled, crying for more - the love and… the accompanying thirst for new memories.

Sebille could feel her consciousness enter what was of the man, as her soul began extracting his story — what was left of it anyway — piece by piece. His memories were for her to experience. Varus as a spectator, could confirm — At this moment, Sebille was now Finn.

His heart weighed heavy. He knew too much; it was all too much. He had met…him. The burden of knowing too much was a harbinger of doom, Finn was certain.

Blinded by a brilliant light, he felt an overwhelming surge of power coursing through his veins, a fiery red glow emanating from his hands as his heart pounded with rage. Yet, his trembling hands betrayed his strength, rendering them nearly useless. Blood pooled on the floor, his vision blurred, and agony consumed him. What good was this newfound strength if he couldn't even wield it?

In an instant, he was back on the ship, curled up in a corner, arms wrapped tightly around his knees, trembling with fear. Despite the cabin's spaciousness, he felt suffocated, trapped in its confines. Darkness crept in from the corridor, threatening to envelop the room. Alone with his thoughts, the only company he had was the sound of rain outside. Everything felt so profoundly wrong. Why had he ever left the comfort of home?

A figure emerged from the shadows—a woman of age, her eyes radiating kindness. "You're too kind," Finn murmured. She stepped closer, offering conversation, a glimmer of hope to ease his pain. As her hand extended, he reached out, clasping it tightly, and breathed a sigh of relief. At last, he was on the path back to where he belonged—home.

The memories concluded. They were no longer Finn. He was no longer Sebille. With a jolt, they both returned to themselves.

"Well, that was interesting," Sebille muttered as her fingers grazed her palm, almost as if scratching. She had most probably acquired that skill, Varus noted.

She looked at him and gave him a coy smile, "The murderer is an old woman with a sly smile to boot. She must be around somewhere, on this deck… At this moment.", she further contemplated as something passed through her eyes.

"Her name was… Windego," she muttered, her fingers instinctively rolling the dice once more.

"How many more secrets do you know, elf?" Varus probed further.

"There, there. I know many. But it does not take to forget any. No need to be a sourpuss or be worried about it, darling; your secret's safe with me." She observed his eyes and remarked with Thespian flair, "Rest assured, I don't lick and tell. "

Varus nodded and stood up, "Fair then, It was good to meet you, elf."

"Aha, I hope so. My reviews are usually on point: They'll take you to the next world," she remarked from behind him.

Without anyone noticing, Varus lifted his palm as red light seeped out for a moment. His nails grew longer momentarily, but he stopped. His body felt like a beast of unstoppable nature, yet he halted the casting at this moment. Now was not the time yet.

"Kaleran was not the only one who learned the move. Let's give it a simple name, as the move is similar," Varus thought as he moved north towards the storage door. "Hmm, Adrenaline Rush will do."